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hedgehog-moss · 3 months

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Inspired by your last ask! What are the best French books you’ve read that have no English translation yet? I read Play Boy and Qui a tué mon père (really loved the latter) last year and it feels so fun to read something that other Americans can’t access yet

I'm too nervous to make any list of the Best XYZ Books because I don't want to raise your expectations too high! But okay, here's my No English Translation-themed list of books I've enjoyed in recent years. I tried to make it eclectic in terms of genre as I don't know what you prefer :)

Biographies

• Le dernier inventeur, Héloïse Guay de Bellissen: I just love prehistory and unusual narrators so I enjoyed this one; it's about the kids who discovered the cave of Lascaux, and some of the narration is written from the perspective of the cave <3 I posted a little excerpt here (in English).

• Ces femmes du Grand Siècle, Juliette Benzoni: Just a fun collection of portraits of notable noblewomen during the reign of Louis XIV, I really liked it. For people who like the 17th century. I think it was Emil Cioran who said his favourite historical periods were the Stone Age and the 17th century but tragically the age of salons led to the Reign of Terror and Prehistory led to History.

• La Comtesse Greffulhe, Laure Hillerin: I've mentioned this one before, it's about the fascinating Belle Époque French socialite who was (among other things) the inspiration for Proust's Duchess of Guermantes. I initially picked it up because I will read anything that's even vaguely about Proust but it was also a nice aperçu of the Belle Époque which I didn't know much about.

• Nous les filles, Marie Rouanet: I've also recommended this one before but it's such a sweet little viennoiserie of a book. The author talks about her 1950s childhood in a town in the South of France in the most detailed, colourful, earnest way—she mentions everything, describes all the daft little games children invent like she wants ageless aliens to grasp the concept of human childhood, it's great.

I'll add Trésors d'enfance by Christian SIgnol and La Maison by Madeleine Chapsal which are slightly less great but also sweet short nostalgic books about childhood that I enjoyed.

Fantasy

• Mers mortes, Aurélie Wellenstein: I read this one last year and I found the characters a bit underwhelming / underexplored but I always enjoy SFF books that do interesting things with oceans (like Solaris with its sentient ocean-planet), so I liked the atmosphere here, with the characters trying to navigate a ghost ship in ghost seas...

• Janua Vera, Jean-Philippe Jaworski: Not much to say about it other than they're short stories set in a mediaeval fantasy world and no part of this description is usually my cup of tea, but I really enjoyed this read!

Essays / literary criticism / philosophy

• Eloge du temps perdu, Frank Lanot: I thought this was going to be about idleness, as the title suggests, and I love books about idleness. But it's actually a collection of short essays about (French) literature and some of them made me appreciate new things about authors and books I thought I knew by heart, so I enjoyed it

• Le Pont flottant des rêves, Corinne Atlan: Poetic musings about translation <3 that's all

• Sisyphe est une femme, Geneviève Brisac: Reflections about the works of female writers (Natalia Ginzburg, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Townsend Warner, etc) that systematically made me want to go read the author in question, even when I'd already read & disliked said author. That's how you know it's good literary criticism

Let's add L'Esprit de solitude by Jacqueline Kelen which as the title suggests, ponders the notion of solitude, and Le Roman du monde by Henri Peña-Ruiz which was so lovely to read in terms of literary style I don't even care what it was about (it's philosophy of foundational myths & stories) (probably difficult to read if you're not fully fluent in French though)

Did not fit in the above categories:

• Entre deux mondes by Olivier Norek—it's been translated in half a dozen languages, I was surprised to find no English translation! It's a crime novel and a pretty bleak read on account of the setting (the Calais migrant camp) but I'd recommend it

• Saga, Tonino Benacquista: Also seems to have been translated in a whole bunch of languages but not English? :( I read it ages ago but I remember it as a really fun read. It's a group of loser screenwriters who get hired to write a TV series, their budget is 15 francs and a stale croissant and it's going to air at 4am so they can do whatever they want seeing as no one will watch it. So they start writing this intentionally ridiculous unhinged show, and of course it acquires Devoted Fans

Books that I didn't think existed in English translation but they do! but you can still read them in French if you want

• Scrabble: A Chadian Childhood, Michaël Ferrier: What it says on the tin! It's a short and well-written account of the author's childhood in Chad just before the civil war. I read it a few days ago and it was a good read, but then again I just love bittersweet stories of childhood

• On the Line, Joseph Ponthus: A short diary-like account of the author's assembly line work in a fish factory. I liked the contrast between the robotic aspect of the job and the poetic nature of the text; how the author used free verse / repetition / scansion to give a very immediate sense of the monotony and rhythm of his work (I don't know if it's good in English)

• The End of Eddy, Edouard Louis: The memoir of a gay man growing up in a poor industrial town in Northern France—pretty brutal but really good

• And There Was Light, Jacques Lusseyran: Yet another memoir sorry, I love people's lives! Jacques Lusseyran lost his sight as a child, and was in the Resistance during WWII despite being blind. It's a great story, both for the historical aspects and for the descriptions of how the author experiences his blindness

• The Adversary: A True Story of Monstrous Deception, Emmanuel Carrère: an account of the Jean-Claude Romand case—a French man who murdered his whole family to avoid being discovered as a fraud, after spending his entire adult life pretending to be a doctor working at the WHO and fooling everyone he knew. Just morbidly fascinating, if you like true crime stuff

#ask #book recs #the book i started reading last night is The Naked Neanderthal by Ludovic Slimak and i also didn't #expect it to have an english translation but it does #i'm only at the beginning and so far it's philosophical ponderings about what kind of creature the neanderthals were #if they were humans in a different way than us. with a different kind of intelligence #and how to understand it without projecting our own way of being in the world onto this other humanity #sorry to quote cioran again but it reminds me of when he said every generation misses the good old days and #if we retrace our steps from regret to regret we'll find the original regret #our nostalgia for a time when humans weren't yet human

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frenchkisstheabyss · 1 year

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♡ 𝟙𝟠𝟙𝟚 𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖 ♡

♡ Mature Content. Minors DNI. Warnings below the break ♡

Pairing: boyfriend!seonghwa x chubby!fem!reader

Summary: You wake up to your loving boyfriend nervously making you breakfast, unaware that he plans to propose. That is, if he can work up the courage to.

Genre: slice of life/fluffy smut

Word Count: 1.4kish

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), a delicious breakfast you never get to consume

A/N: This is my first fic after taking a break from writing for a while so my blog's a bit empty but I hope ya'll enjoy this. Any feedback is mucho appreciated. A special thanks to my bestie @anyamaris for giving me the courage to post again ♡

Rubbing your eyes you drag yourself into the kitchen with all the grace of a newborn dear. Soft classical music fills your cozy one-bedroom apartment, rising all at once only to come crashing back down. You’re greeted with the intoxicating smell of milk and honey, the source of which is only revealed to you when your vision clears up. “I made pain perdu!” Hwa smiles, maneuvering around you with the hot pan carrying a thick, golden brown slice of brioche bread. “So…French toast?” He rounds the kitchen table, scooping the piece of French toast onto a plate already home to three other perfectly cooked pieces. “It sounds fancier in French, my love” he says, darting past you again, only this time he stops to kiss you on the cheek. His soft, pink lips chase off the early morning cold.

It’s only now that you notice what he’s done to the kitchen table. Bowls of fruit as fresh as the day they were picked. Orchids and dahlias bloom in ornate vases. Every breakfast side your heart could desire. “Hwa, what is all of this?” you gasp, only having a second to take it all in before he’s guiding you by your wrists to the oak chair he’s pulled out for you. He stops dead in his tracks, it’s like someone hit the pause button. “I…uh…eat. You should eat.” Hwa sits you down, scrambling to hand you a knife and fork. He trembles so faintly that you might not even notice if you weren’t always so in tune with each other’s bodies.

“Seonghwa…” you say softly, your fork poking at the French toast but your gaze locked on your busy body of a boyfriend. Much too wrapped up in his own head, he goes on rummaging through the fridge for a bottle of wine. He swings open one of the cabinets, searching for the perfect glass. Nothing else will do. “Park Seonghwa!” you shout, careful not to sound angry. As sweet as his efforts are, you can tell that something’s bothering him. Hwa’s shoulders drop, his slick dark hair falling against his freshly shaved chin. You scurry up behind him. The feeling of your arms around his waist, your fluffy cheek pressed against his back, quiets his worries at once. He places a hand on top of yours, drawing in a deep breath.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me” you whisper, your voice saturated in worry. As he exhales he places the bottle of wine on the counter, turning around to catch the concern on your beautiful face. “I’ve never regretted anything I’ve done during this relationship…” he starts and your heart sinks to your stomach. That’s what this is all about. He’s breaking up with you. You knew it was too good to be true. Two years of some storybook romance shattered. He did this, all of this, to cushion the blow of… “And I never want to so… y/n will you marry me?” You snap out of your daze to find him down on one knee, holding up a black rose cut diamond ring. He forces a pained smile, bracing for the possibility that you may not feel the same way. An insane thought if there ever was one.

You clutch your hands to your chest, your heart returning to its home with the force of a rocket launching into space. “Yeeeee” you squeak, unable to make out much else. “Yeeee?” “Ssss…” “Yee…sss?” “Yes! Yes! 100% fucking yes!” Tears are streaming down your cheeks before you can stop them. You imagine what a wreck you must look to him, crying in the middle of your kitchen in an old t-shirt and some beat up sweatpants. But nothing could be further from the truth. Slipping the ring onto your finger, he takes you into his arms, nearly sweeping you off of the floor. He tilts his head back ever so slightly, doing his best not to shed some tears of his own. Hwa kisses you and it is, without question, unmatched by any kiss you’ve shared before this day. His scent is more fragrant than any flower on that table. His lips sweeter than the bottle of red wine sweating on the kitchen counter.

Your shirt lifts, granting him access to the softness of your love handles. The sensation of his hands outlining your body, the electrifying friction of skin against skin, awakens any fiber of your being that could’ve possibly remained drowsy all of this time. “I love you” he gasps against your mouth, lips skimming down your chin to press against your neck. Chills trickle down your spine as he nibbles at the sensitive spot he knows always gets to you. “I love you too” you manage before he lifts you onto the kitchen counter, his hands kneading the pillowy tissue of your breasts. “Hwa, wait. Wait. Hold on.”

“Hmm?” is all he says, brushing his thumb across your nipple as it perks up beneath his touch. You giggle at the spark it sends through your system, “Aren’t you gonna eat your pain perdu?” “It’s just French toast. Nothing special,” he shrugs, bringing a hand down to slip into your panties, the moisture of your warmth welcoming the intrusion, “But you on the other hand…” Hwa takes his time dipping his fingers into you one after the other, curling them each in their own unique way to coax every darling whimper you have to offer from your throat. It’s this unpredictability that has your body too overstimulated to do anything more than fall back and surrender.

His fingers abandon you momentarily, a tortuous betrayal forgivable only because of the speed in which he strips your bottom half bare. Your sweatpants and panties falling to the floor tangled within each other. In seconds his hands are behind your knees, firmly pressing them towards your chest. Hwa can’t resist taking mental pictures of you spread out like this, wet and aching. Begging him to taste you for the first time as his on a level he’d spent countless nights praying you’d let him reach. He buries his face between your legs, his long, curved tongue lapping at your clit. You twist in his grip, hips raising purely out of greed. Instead of pushing you back down, he pulls you closer, locking your legs around his neck and plunging his tongue into the very depths of your center.

“Seonghwa…” you whine, the bottom of your shirt twisted in your fist while your other hand grips the edge of the marble countertop. Hwa’s tongue plays you like one of the exquisite instruments of the orchestra concealing your moans from the neighbors on either side of your apartment. It teases the sweet spot deep within you, flexing along your walls when they clench around him. He slips it between the slickness of your folds, slurping down every bit of you he can catch. What he can’t coats his chin, drops splashing along your inner thigh. Your muscles start to spasm. First, it’s only the ones in your stomach but, as the pleasure deepens, you can feel every singular muscle in your body tighten like the rope of a spinning wheel. It’s so much, too much, and you can’t imagine ever asking him to stop.

You pinch your bottom lip between your teeth, the lingering scent of milk and honey flooding your lungs once more before the universe itself unravels around you. The orgasm pulses through your veins, dulling all other senses not stemming from Hwa devouring you. You come to be far louder than the music, only driving him to go faster…deeper. “Scream for me. Cry for me” his body language whispers and, oh, how you scream. The very decadence of the sound is enough to arouse him to the point of utter madness. “You…you have to stop...I can’t” you stutter, dangling at the apex of euphoria with no end in sight. If you’re spun any tighter you’re positive you’ll break. He goes completely deaf to you again, this time because he’s much too consumed by you.

Using what minimal strength you have you slide yourself back on the counter, separating the two of you and leaving your walls contracting as if he never stopped. Hwa straightens out, licking you from his lips, “I’m sorry. You’re just…” “Bedroom” you say, planting your feet on the chilled kitchen floor and wobbling back towards the bedroom. “And bring the syrup!” Hwa crooks his neck, unsure of what to make of the odd request. “For what, exactly?” “You gotta come find out!” That’s all that needs saying for him to grab the bottle of syrup from the table and rush to catch up to you, his stunning, slightly uncoordinated, incredibly tasty girlfri...fiance.

#ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x y/n #ateez smut #chubby reader #plus size reader #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x y/n #chubby smut #plus size smut

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blacknedsoul-blog · 5 months

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Annabel Lee Whitlock: The Hypocrite, the Vampire and the Femme Fatale. A review of archetypes

Good news: I'm on vacation. Bad news: I'm on vacation.

And that means rest. A positive externality. But on the other hand, it also means that my brain, which is constantly thirsting for stimulation, has lost eight hours of activity a day that it has to fill with something. You know what happens to orange tabbies who suddenly become quiet and behave as if possessed by all the demons of Ars Goetia? Well, sort of.

So my brain in need of stimulation decided to dust off my college notes and talk about archetypes, because it's a thorough enough job to keep me away from climbing walls or checking random stuff on the Internet for 10 hours a day.

What is an archetype?

Just to make sure we're all on the same page, an archetype (a "type character") is a writing model that describes a role and has certain characteristics.

The term was coined by Honoré de Balzac, a French writer obsessed with what he called "micro-history. His life's work, "La Comédie humaine", is a massive collection of more than 80 novels, which, when read, will give you more information about that historical period than any theoretical book on the subject.

You may not know this sir or the protagonist of "Illusions perdues", but you do know the archetype that Lucien Rumempré represents: a young from the provinces, full of dreams, who moves to the city only to discover that the lights are there to dazzle and distract from the misery.

But at the same time, the characters that come to mind are likely to be very different from the good Lucien. This is because the archetype is a different construct from the cliché.

If I had to explain the difference, I would say that the cliché is a recipe, while the archetype is a mold.

If you follow a recipe, you will always get results that are very similar, even if you make small variations in the recipe. But if you have a star cookie cutter, the contents of the cookies can be quite different: no one would dare say that a chocolate chip cookie tastes the same as an oatmeal cookie or a gingerbread cookie. Even if all three are cut in the shape of a star.

So I'm going to do a little review of the archetypes that Annabel notices. The differences, the similarities, and let's see what comes out.

The Hypocrite

Not "hypocrite" in the sense of a personality, but in the sense of a way of behaving in the world: The Hypocrite is a character whose way of relating to the world is a pantomime, whose role is to build themselves up to fit into a system (which, by the way, they despise). If they don't have what you want, they will at least pretend enough to make you think they do. Usually for personal gain.

The founder of this archetype is Julien Sorel, the protagonist of "Le Rogue et Le Noir", the most famous work of Stendhal, one of the most prominent writers of the literary realism founded by Balzac.

Julien is this poor boy, but smart enough to memorize the Bible, which makes him seem educated enough to get him a job as a tutor in a rich house, and eventually a priest's cassock.

A more modern example is Nick Wilde from Zootopia. This fox has decided that if he alone can be a con man, he will be one, though he desperately wants someone to see him as an individual beyond that. He hates the system that condemns him, but he wants to be a part of it and will play by the rules he is given in order to profit.

Annabel, like Julien and Nick, has built her entire identity around being what is expected of her, in her case a perfect Victorian high society lady. Something that has given her a tremendous amount of knowledge about how people move in such circles. And from her point of view, people are the same everywhere (Miss Marple would be proud of her).

And in this oppressive context that fosters an environment where people kill each other, she knows what currency to give in return for loyalty: people will look for a leader, someone competent, someone who knows what they're doing.

Annabel has no idea what's going on, what awaits them outside the Nevermore gate, or even if there's a way to escape. But she can pretend to know. The quietest person in the room wins, and she's the one who takes the prizes to achieve her goal. The performance is justified as a means to an end.

Another thing that characterizes stories with a Hypocrite as a relevant character is the exploration of the consequences of this lifestyle: identity is consumed by the role, the line between actor and character is lost, and the Hypocrite is often faced with the reality that they have put so much of themselves into the character they are playing that once it is exposed, there is nothing underneath, or at least nothing worth saving.

In Annabel's case, this is expressed in her utter horror at not being trusted by Lenore. She puts her hypocrisy at the disposal of her lover and comforts herself with the reward of her affection, but Lenore's love for her is the only thread that binds her own identity: that Lenore does not trust her means that the role has completely consumed her, the complete confirmation that she, as an individual, is no longer a disturbed poseur.

Related to this point, we have the final transversal line in the conflicts that Hypocrites tend to have: loneliness. When all their relationships are based on a carefully rehearsed performance, the Hypocrite knows that they are alone in the world, that no one really knows them, and they are usually so deep in the role by this point that they don't want to (or can't) leave it. The longing for honest relationships overlaps with their self-destructive tendencies.

As much as Annabel insists that it's her and Lenore against the world, that her life is meaningless without Lenore, and that she is enough, these phrases indicate that Annabel is painfully aware of how she is perceived by others, and though she tells herself that Lenore's love is all she needs, it seems more like a mantra to keep her sane than a reality.

As you may have noticed, the main difference from the usual Hypocrite is that Annabel has Lenore. A bit like Nick has Judy. But Nevermore is a story that takes the psychology of its characters much more seriously, so while Nick just needs someone to reach out to in order to form honest relationships, Annabel passes because she has no fucking idea how to form an honest, healthy bond.

That Annabel is extraordinarily self-destructive, emotionally dependent, and so afraid to step outside the box she knows so well are, in this light, natural consequences of the Hypocrite lifestyle.

The Vampire

Here we must make a leap to another movement: during the Romantic period, the Gothic novel was at its best, and it was Edgar Allan Poe who squeezed out the last drops of what this genre had to offer.

Now, looking at the bibliography, Annabel does not have much in common with the gothic heroine (that is something Lenore takes care of), neither on an aesthetic level nor on a value level. To find her in the works that inspire her, one must look in a slightly different direction: the female vampires of gothic fiction.

Aurelia ("Vampirismus" by E.T.A. Hoffmann), Carmilla ("Carmilla" by Sheridan Le Fanu), Clarimonde ("The death woman in love" by Théophile Gautier), the vampire in the poem "The Metamorphosis of the Vampire" by Baudelaire, the three vampire women, and Lucy ("Dracula" by Bram Stoker).

All these characters have something more in common than their fangs: they are beautiful women capable of making anyone who sees them fall completely into their arms, as opposed to their role of making the one they have chosen as their prey "fall".

The Gothic vampire is practically a succubus, but much less sexualized than one might think. Although many of these works, with the exception of the poem by the good Baudelaire (an author who should be fed separately on these matters), spare no pages in describing how beautiful they are, neither do they overly sexualize them, nor are they particularly flirtatious: even Clarimonde is dedicated to simply being there and letting her presence alone do the work.

This is something Annabel shares with the gothic vampire: though physically gorgeous, the framing in the comic doesn't tend to focus on her as an object of sexual desire, her beauty is highlighted, but in a way that is more akin to an ethereal or unattainable entity.

This is due to a mixture of two things: the Gothic novel is steeped in Catholic puritanism, and even if it is to present a villain who uses her attractiveness as a weapon, the erotic component is subtly exposed, and the vampire's angelic beauty offers a contrast to her status as an antagonist: beautiful on the outside, insidious on the inside.

This is another thing Annabel has in common with the gothic vampire: she is aware that her appearance gives her a haughty, elegant, and dignified air, identifiable enough to earn nicknames like "Queen" or "Queenie," and she knows how to capitalize on it. This contrasts with the darker parts of her personality.

Another thing that terrifies romantics about vampires is that these fangirl succubi possess a quality that makes us 21st-century readers raise an eyebrow because it's supposed to make us uncomfortable: a deep, honest, and sincere willingness to be affectionate.

In context, this makes sense: the vampire is a representation of sin, temptation, and lust. So their affection is something that leads the object of it away from the path of morality (this is the 19th century, this is really important).

I understand that because of the vampire's role in all of this, she is a devoted lover. Incredibly devoted, in fact: Clarimonde is Romuald's sugar mommy (no, I'm not kidding, I'm not exaggerating either), and Carmilla never stops showering Laura with affection and attention, satisfying this girl's craving for companionship after living in isolation.

Annabel does something similar: there is a genuine interest on her part to reach out and connect with Lenore, and in scenes like this, she goes out of her way to show her that she is an amazing person in her own right, rather than being her brother's shadow.

All kidding aside, I think of the archetypes I could find to analyze Annabel, this is the one that fits her best, even though she is not, well, literally a vampire. She seems to have several things in common with Carmilla in particular.

The Femme Fatale

We all have a more or less clear idea of what a femme fatale is: this extremely attractive, sexually active, badass woman who is there to make the male character's life miserable and has a 50% chance of smoking fine cigarettes with a cigarette holder. This is…partially true, but also highly inaccurate.

Although these characters can be traced back much further in mythology, this archetype gets its name and very specific form from Raymond Chandler, the founder of the noir novel. I'm not going to go into too much detail on this topic, as entire books could be written about it, so let's just focus on what's important.

The thing to understand about the context to understand the Femme Fatale is that we are in the 30-40's and although she has many more rights than 19th century women, the decadence shown in these works emphasizes that she is in a macho context where every single rule of the game is stacked against her. This is something that Femme Fatale is acutely aware of: no matter how well she plays the game, she will always lose.

This is something that Annabel shares with this archetype: she is very aware of the rules of the game, she knows backwards and forwards how the world works, so she is also aware that they are too heavily stacked against her to ever win. All she can do is resign herself, play the role as best she can, and find small distractions to cling to like a burning nail so as not to lose her head altogether.

Therefore, the Femme Fatale's approach to life is this: if the rules are stacked against her, that means she has the right to do whatever it takes to survive. These tactics usually include manipulation, deception, exploitation, and, of course, making the most of her sexual attractiveness because, unlike the vampire, she knows how to flirt and use sex as a weapon. What needs to be kept in mind here is that for this character archetype, the use of these wiles comes not because she is factory evil, but as a coping mechanism within a system she cannot win against. If this ultimately makes her a villain, it's more about her role within the story in which it plays out than anything about the archetype itself.

Here's an interesting difference between the Annabel we see in Lenore's memories and the one we see in the present day of the comic: Annabel used to be willing to play by the rules, but the thing she learned from Lenore is that cheating is more than possible. As a result, her attitude has become much closer to that of a Femme Fatale, using her extensive knowledge of the rules to her advantage, going with the flow for personal gain. Her methods are much closer to those of the Hypocrite (especially since we haven't seen Annabel use her body or affection as currency yet), but there are definitely similarities.

Another thing about the Femme Fatale (when she is NOT a villain) is that, like the Vampire, she operates within a duality: an exterior built to be sexy in a somewhat intimidating way (which is why the aesthetics of many of these characters can be interpreted within BDSM culture), but with some goodness in her heart. A really clear example of this is Vivian Sternwood from The Big Sleep (the first novel on the subject published by Raymond Chandler): her own father describes her as "rude, demanding, clever, and quite ruthless," and Marlow, our detective, will have a long series of uncomfortable encounters with her. But by the end of the novel, when he is faced with the same choice Vivian must have made in the past, he cannot help but realize that despite everything, this woman would rather keep painful secrets than harm her family, whom she loves dearly.

So if you're wondering why the framing of scenes like this looks familiar, that's why.

Add to that the three layers of how her aesthetic works: an angelic appearance for when she needs to play dumb, her gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlboss bullshit face for when she needs to demonstrate authority, and framing where it should make you directly uncomfortable.

Looks are one of the strengths of Femmel Fatale's performance. And it's one of the strengths of Annabel's performance.

Conclusions

One interesting thing about looking at Annabel in this light is to realize two things: first, that many of the archetypes her character seems to take notes from are often in the role of antagonists or, for that matter, villains.

The other is that these archetypes are quite well ordered and connected: the gothic vampire is the inspiration for the Femme Fatale of Noir (her beta version, if you can call it that), and the Hypocrite shares a historical writing period with many female vampires. From her conception, Annabel is constructed in a fairly orderly fashion, and believe me, that's a huge contrast to what's going to happen with Lenore (which I'll get to soon, but I need to brush up on my picaresque novel notes).

The last thing I want to point out in this review is this: unless you're a Nick Wilde-style Hypocrite, Hypocrites and Vampires in general tend to have utter destruction in store for them. The Noir, for its part, puts us in a situation where the Femme Fatale, even if she wants to change, is generally too deep in this tangle to get out.

So what I find interesting about Annabel in this regard is:

This is actually THE scene that shows us Annabel timidly stepping out of the scheme of things. She doesn't seem to want to change, in fact I'd bet she's terrified to change, but even though she's repeating her father's toxic pattern here, she's also breaking it without realizing it.

It's too early to tell if we'll see Annabel have some sort of redemption towards less harmful behavior, or if we'll end up seeing her become a villain altogether. But I'm really curious to see where this story goes with all of these elements.

#nevermore webtoon #annabel lee nevermore #annabel lee whitlock #So this is about 3000 words long #I want to die #Spoiler with Lenore we'll talk about rogues knights and womens with tuberculosis #femme fatale #hypocrite #vampire

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jamie-007 · 2 months

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💖

À 40 ans Franz Kafka (1883-1924) qui ne s'est jamais marié et n'avait pas d'enfants, se promenait dans le parc de Berlin quand il rencontra une petite fille qui pleurait parce qu'elle avait perdu sa poupée préférée. Elle et Kafka ont cherché la poupée sans succès.

Kafka lui a dit de le rencontrer le lendemain et ils reviendraient la chercher.

Le lendemain, quand ils n'avaient pas encore trouvé la poupée, Kafka donna à la petite fille une lettre "écrite" de la poupée qui disait : " S'il te plaît ne pleure pas. J'ai fait un voyage pour voir le monde. Je vais t'écrire sur mes aventures."

C'est ainsi que commença une histoire qui se poursuit jusqu'à la fin de la vie de Kafka.

Lors de leurs rencontres, Kafka lisait les lettres de poupée soigneusement écrites avec des aventures et des conversations que l'enfant trouvait adorables.

Enfin, Kafka lui ramena la poupée (en acheta une) qui était de retour à Berlin.

"Elle ne ressemble pas du tout à ma poupée", dit la petite fille.

Kafka lui remit une autre lettre dans laquelle la poupée écrivait : "Mes voyages m'ont changée."

La petite fille a embrassé la nouvelle poupée et l'a ramenée tout heureuse à la maison.

Un an plus tard, Kafka est mort.

Plusieurs années plus tard, la petite fille désormais adulte a trouvé une lettre dans la poupée. Dans la minuscule lettre signée par Kafka, il y avait écrit :

"Tout ce que tu aimes sera probablement perdu, mais à la fin l'amour reviendra d'une autre façon."

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anime-rambles · 2 years

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Safe with Us: Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!KiriBaku x Omega!MidoriyaTwinReader

Type: Angst, hurt, forced scenting.

Word Count: 3500+

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support and love for my work, I have been super busy at the moment in my personal life and haven't really ad a moment to breathe but I do have this finished and wanted to share with everyone. Part 2 coming soon. I have a new taglist form follow the link below and it will bring you too it. Much love as always, Tiff <3

Summary: You were Midroiya's twin, Bakugou's mate but life isn't easy and one day you were kidnapped, stripped from everything you know. Many years have passed, Bakugou has moved on but only now have you been able to escape, to return to your family. A family that has moved on.

Permanent Tag List: @jasmine2042003 @jazzylove @amypop122 @misssugarless @plutounderbridges @butterscotch-babie @backoftheletter @gojosslvt @himi-yuu @ebiharachan @black-rose-29

MHA Tag List: @hornehlittleweeblet2 @mystiqueewrites @belzeblitz @moonygeno413 @ace-the-side-character @unlogical-ella @moonseye @vaellee @corruptowlette @pasteldaze @24-7-multifandomsimp @yetoadet @ninetyeightrins @kirissluttypebble @elaineplayz @phantomalchemist @tigerd-draws @kunaigirlx44 @jujutaku @adventures-in-a-heartbeat @cmars59 @upinacloud @yourdragonsfire @uwiuwi @burningbluegalaxy @kirislilwhorewife @kuzusouda-and-terumaru-blog @kat-perdue @ebiharachan @lazyafgurl @bratty-fics @eraserheads-sleeping-bag @eijiandkatspebbleble

TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

There were many things in your life that you thought was unfair, for one, living with your father away from your twin, having a quirk without your twin and being an omega and not being allowed to be an omega. You know nothing of your omegain side, only that it was something to be ashamed of. That you were merely the lowest of the low and even alpha’s, your destined alpha would tire of you and seek other mates, and you had to be okay with it.

Your father brought you to this group of alpha’s, you never knew why but one thing was for sure they were villains. When the time came for your first heat, that was the last time you saw your father. He had sold you to them, and left you behind. For many a year the villains took care of you, but not for free, you cooked, cleaned and just about did anything that was expected of you. There was one alpha in the group, a new guy, who took a shine to you. He often would tell you he would find a way to get you home, to trust him, that you will know when the time is right.

There was an explosion in the compound, it had knocked you straight off your feet. The door to your room, which was more of a cage, unlocked and the door opened slowly. You could hear screams in the distance and you knew it was time to run. A red feather floated into the room and flew around you, pushing at your back towards the door. It is definitely the sign you’ve been waiting for. So you ran, ran as hard as your feet would take you. Your destination? Unknown. You had nothing, no money, no shelter, you were scared of what would happen now, you could embrace your omega. You could hardly remember your mother, or even if she would take you in, your twin on the other hand…

You ran to the nearest phone booth, putting some coins you had found in your pocket and dialing the only number you could remember, hoping he never changed it.

Beep….beep…beep…

“Hello?” A voice croaked out from the end of the phone.

“Izuku” You whispered, tears already filling your eyes.

“Yes, who is it? It's the middle of the night.” His voice sounded impatient.

“Zuzu, I ne-”

“Y/N, YOU’RE ALIVE, whereareyouareyouokaystaythereillcomeandgetyoudontgoanywhere..” Izuku interrupted you and tears flowed down your face, more happy tears than anything.

+++

“So, you’re telling me, Izuku has a twin, that we’ve never met, that you knew of, that your alpha chose and never thought to mention it to me?” Kirishima stood in front of Bakugou with his arms crossed trying to wrap his head around this new information. Bakugou dropped his bag that he was packing and turned to Kirishima.

“Look, I'm sorry Eiji, what do you want me to say? We both thought she died? she disappeared around the same time Izuku dad went missing and we know how that turned out, she was young and already showing as an omega, and yes my alpha chose her, she was my mate, but she disappeared, my alpha disappeared with her and then you came into my life and woke him up again, waking him up with that big stupid grin of yours, and my alpha claimed you as my mate too.” Bakugou made his way to Kirishima and placed his hands on his face. Kirishima smiled up at him, not really bothered about the omega, Kirishima knew that if Bakugou’s alpha had already chosen the omega as a mate that his own alpha would do the same. Kirishima had a lot of love to go around. Often the pair would add an extra member during ruts but no one ever felt right for the red head to let them stay around. Kirishima was actually quite excited to meet her but he wants Bakugou to talk about it, to open up more. Kirishima lent forward to kiss Bakugou.

“I know bro, so manly you are” Bakugou pulled a face and stepped away from Kirishima.

“What did I say shitty hair, stop calling me bro when you are touching or inside me” Bakugou picked up his bag again and Kirishima just laughed smacking Bakugou ass as he left his room and walked into the main area of the den.

Everyone in the pack lived there and had their own rooms, Kirishima also had his own room but barely spent time in there anymore since him and Bakugou began courting. Bakugou could see Midoriya pacing at the door, with Todoroki at his side trying to calm him down.

“God Katsuki hurry up, she’s lost and alone, andprobablythinksweveforgttenaboutheragaingodwearesuchbadexcudsesforalphas..” Midoriya rambled on, and Todoroki tried once again to calm his mate down, he was failing…badly.

“Let’s go nerd” Bakugou grabbed Midoriya’s collar and pulled him out the door with his pack behind him wishing them luck. Bakugou grabbed his car keys on the way out and threw his and Midoriya’s bag in the boot of his car.

Once both alpha’s were settled in the car, Bakugou began to drive to the airport, you weren’t in Japan anymore. Midoriya sat ringing his hands together not speaking, he was afraid and unsure what you would think. His alpha had missed you all these years, his baby omegain sister. Both of you had dreamed of becoming hero’s together but when he had not developed his quirk and you had, you promised him you’d still make his dream come true. Then you disappeared leaving him all alone, Bakugou and him grew very distant, and the alpha’s hate grew and grew and the next moment they were both in UA, constantly fighting each other for no reason. The pain of losing you, almost killed both of them. It was only after both nearly losing each other in villain attacks, was what brought them back together and formed their clan with the rest of the class. Midoriya wanted to talk to Bakugou, he wanted him to say something but he could barely read Bakugou’s emotion right now so he thought it was best to stay quiet.

Bakugou could sense Midoriya wanted to talk but what could he possibly say at this moment. Everyone thought you had died. Mr Midoriya’s body was found years ago and you were nowhere to be seen. The hero’s and police all deemed you dead, as you were an omega without any protection whatsoever. Bakugou blamed himself that he left you all alone, even though there was nothing he could have done, he did not know what Mr.Midoriya was planning on doing. Since that day, the emptiness had taken over Bakugou, his alpha disappeared along with you. It took many hard years of Kirishima constantly working and helping Bakugou that his Alpha came back, but there was always a part missing, that part belonged with you.

It was like any other day, you were in Bakugou’s house learning how to build a nest which you decided needed to be in his room and Bakugou allowed this, he thought it was adorable watching you learn how to be one with your second gender. It was a lot easier for Alpha’s to join with their second genders, where omega’s had a lot of learning to do. They only join fully with their omega when they go through their first heat. Then Mr. Midoriya arrived and he never saw you again. Bakugou rubbed on his neck, on your mark you left on him. The both of you had not joined sexually as you were both young but you both decided to mark each other early so that if something was to happen to either of you the other would have something to hold onto, one last hope. Bakugou hated the idea at the time but went along with it, and now he was so thankful for your brain for thinking about it, as it was all Bakugou had of you. The nest you had built had been taken by police as evidence and any belongings he had or Midoriya had all gone to some police station somewhere.

Bakugou’s auto pilot had brought the pair straight to the airport and by the time Bakugou’s brain caught up with his body they were boarding the plane. Bakugou turned Midoriya who looked like he was going to pass out. He grabbed his hand and they locked eyes.

“She alive, and were bringing her home, that is all the matters, the past is the past,”

Midoriya nodded at Bakugou and the plane departed on its journey to you.

+++

Your father took you far away, to some little town in a European country with the plans to marry you off for a quirk marriage to create strong children. You inherited your father fire quirk and you were quite skilled at creating objects with fires and if you concentrate hard enough you could even make bombs but it took too much energy and often left you dizzy and breathless so you promised Bakugou you would leave all the exploding to him.

Bakugou, you could hardly believe after all this time of hoping and wanting, you could go back to him. Sometimes you would be able to sneak away and see the news, you could see him and Izuku sometimes. You’d often get punished for watching tv but it was worth it, seeing them. You had this longing in your chest to be with Bakugou, a voice inside, telling you he was safe but you didn’t understand what that voice was. All you knew was that you were an omega, that's it, nothing more. Nobody would tell you anything else. You would've been used when you were younger, something about a heat? But you never had one, the alpha’s had said it was because you were already mated to an alpha as you had his mark, that you were only useful to a dominant alpha to break the mark or they could always kill the alpha that marked you but you never told them who it was. You always said it was a nobody, that someone attacked you and they believed you, well all but one alpha, his name was Dabi. He had tried multiple times to get close to you and even one time tried to burn off your mark but it was no use, you had a fire quirk and his flame did nothing to you. After not having your heat because of your joining with someone, they opted to wait for it to come naturally. This would take time. If you were focused to be with an alpha now, the up would not survive, that was also not an option with how powerful your quirk could be.

Dabi was chosen to be your minder and breaker, you either stayed in your cage or in his room. They hoped that with Dabi’s pheromones your omega would choose him. You spent many nights forced into Dabi’s neck breathing him in, his scent made you sick and just the thoughts of him made your skin crawl. Dabi had also brought you to Japan a few times in the hopes you would be able to point out this alpha, one way or another you eventually would be his. But the hero’s always appeared and attacked him which was getting on Dabi’s nerves so he stopped bringing you. It was too risky.

You're not really sure how you escaped. You knew the alpha with the red wings, Tango, he called himself but you felt deep down he was lying. You also knew he was behind it but you were never really sure why he helped you but you were grateful. You were finally going home to Izuku and to Bakugou. You knew after all this time the pair of them had probably stopped looking for you, there was no reason to believe you were alive so you couldn’t hold that against them. You also knew that so much time had passed, you were in your twenties now and Bakugou probably found himself another mate, you made a bargain with yourself that you would take all the comfort you could from him, until he mentioned his mate, then you would back off, it was only fare to whomever his mate was.

You could feel something inside you come alive, but you were unsure as to what it was. There was a deep hunger inside and you started to heat up. Maybe you had caught a cold while running away from the compound. Izuku has mentioned an airport and you had managed to find a way to it, one or two hero’s had helped you along the way. They were friends of ProHero Deku, which you found so hard to believe that your quickless brother was a hero. That his dream came true. You were sitting outside the arrivals section of the airport afraid to go in, you knew no matter where you were standing Izuku would find you.

The main doors opened and a group of people existed. You looked at them, in the back you could faintly see a mop of green hair and blonde hair. Your heart sped up and you panicked, your brian telling you to hide for some reason, that you didn't deserve to be safe and home. So you hid behind a tree, you could hear your name being called and it was getting closer and closer to you but you stayed behind the tree.

Bakugou could see your arms sticking out from behind the tree. He knew you were scared, he could smell it in the air. Midoriya was already crying, he nudged Midoriya in a way to tell him to pull himself together. Both alphas reached the tree and stood still, they could hear your whimpers.

“y/n, there's no need to be afraid,” Midoriya said in a quiet tone. Bakguou placed the bags on the floor.

“Zuzu, Kats, is it really you.” They could hear the tremble in your voice and could smell your fear in the air. Midoriya motioned to his neck, Bakugou understood immediately and started to pump calming pheromones into the air to try and calm you. Even though Midoriya was your brother, your mate would be able to calm you down more. You started to calm down slightly and peaked at them from around the tree.

“There she is, we're here now ‘mega, nothings going to happen to you ever again” Bakugou stared deeply into your eyes, he held out his hand to you and so did Midoriya. You took a cautious step towards them, looking around the area for the villains, for Dabi. They had often used the boys' images to trick you in the past to bring your heat forward but something deep inside was telling you it was them right here in front of you. You held out both of your hands and grasped both of them. You released the breath you were holding and looked at the two, both alpha’s had tears in their eyes but neither moved a muscle.

“You’re both really here” You sobbed and threw your arms around their necks pulling them into you. Both alphas used their arms and held you tight breathing you in.

“It’s been so long, an-an-d I tried so many times to sh-show you I was ali-vvv-e but they stopped me”You sobbed harder into them. Bakugou and Midoriya both pumped out pheromones to try and calm you down but it was no use, Midoriya could hardly breathe himself as he was crying just as hard.

“Y/n, I failed you, I’m so so sorry” Midoriya fell to his knees, and sobbed into his hands. You pulled away from Bakugou and joined Midoriya on the floor.

“Hush now, let's not live in the past, right now all I want to do is go home and I want you to tell me what it’s like being heroes. I’m so proud of you both right now.” You said and held onto Midoriya, once his crying had stopped he pulled you both to your feet. Midoriya let you go and grabbed his and Bakugou’s bag, giving the two of you a minute. You looked up at him and his eyes stared deeply into your eyes.

“Hello you” You whispered, and made your way to stand closer to Bakugou.

“Hey ‘mega” Bakugou wrapped his arms tightly around you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He tucked your face into his neck and you could feel his pheromones were much stronger here. Something inside you said you should kiss his glands, you could see his mark on his neck, the same one you had placed on him all those years ago, binding you both together. At the time it was just you being sappy, what you had not realized was that it was that sappiness that actually saved you all these years.

“Missed you, a part of me died when you weren't here, never letting you out of my sight again, I’ll die without you” Bakguou whispered into your neck. You hummed for a moment, letting the comfort take over.

“I'm here now, Kats.” you closed your eyes and just breathed in his scent, you hummed again and let it take over. Bakugou giggled into your neck.

“You purring ‘mega,”

“Wait what, that's not you making that sound” You pulled slightly in his arms to look at him. He smiled at you.

“Nope, that’s your omega sweetheart, she’s calling to my alpha, her mate.” Bakugou kissed your forehead, you let out an uneasy laugh. Bakugou could read you in an instant.

“Don’t worry, I help you learn about your omega again, don’t expect you know a lot bout it, stupid kidnappers, and beside it’s my job as Alpha to teach you.” Bakugou’s brows creased and you lent forward to kiss them. He stopped all movements which caused you to giggle.

“I trust you Kats, now let's go home yeah?” you asked as you wriggled out of his arms and made your way to Midoriya taking his hand in yours.

+++++++++++

Many many hours later you were back in Japan, sitting in Bakugou’s lap while Midoriya drove you home. On the flight home you learnt all about their pack, and den. You learnt basically everything you had missed over the years. Midoriya told you about Allmight and what happened, how he’s a hero now. Bakugou filled you in about everything else, the little things you might have missed in Midoriya’s mumblings. The boys pushed you to talk about your time but right now you couldn’t process anything about it without panicking so they stopped asking and decided to wait until you were ready.

Midoriya pulled into the driveway of the house, and some of the pack members were already outside waiting. You looked up at them and started to panic, your head screaming at you that this is where you lose Bakugou, that his new omega is up there. Bakugou could sense your panic and asked Midoriya to get the pack inside and he’ll bring you in, in a minute. Bakugou watched as Midoriya ushered everyone inside and he locked eyes with Kirishima who was smiling like a dork to him.

Bakugou pulled you to him and kissed your forehead. “Come one ‘mega, what's going on in your head of yours.” You took a moment to breathe and pulled back to look at Bakugou and spoke.

“I can’t do it Katsuki, I made a deal with myself that I can have you until we made it back to your pack, and I would give you back to your omega but I can't do it , I can't do it, I can't do it.” You sobbed into Bakugou. He released some pheromones and when your crying had slowed down he began to speak.

“Y/n, I never took another omega, you’re the only one for me” Bakugou wiped your tears away. “But, b–ut, Kirishima? You mention him very differently. I assumed he was your new omega.” Bakugou took a breath, “I really didn’t want to do this so soon, but only recently did I start seeing Kirishima, he brought my Alpha back but sweetheart, Kirishima is an alpha and the pack alpha and I love you both so much, in my heart something clicks with it being us three, but we’ll give you time to heal okay, Kirishima agreed to stay away to help.” Bakugou rubbed your neck as he spoke, you stayed quiet. You weren’t quite sure how to react, were you happy? Yes. Were you mad? No. Something inside you was very excited to meet this new alpha, and you could faintly smell something new on Bakugou but you just imagined it was someone from the clan but now everything made sense and you started to smile.

“Let’s go meet everyone then” You smiled brightly at Bakugou and kissed his lips. Bakugou’s smile joined yours and he released the breath he was holding.

#bakugou x kirishima x reader #alpha kiribaku #kiribaku x y/n #kiribaku x reader #alpha kirishima x reader #alpha bakugou x reader #alpha!bakugou #alpha!kiribaku x reader #alpha!kirishima #bnha fanfiction #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou x kirishima #kirishima x y/n #bakugou x reader #kirishima x bakugou #bakugou x you #abo mha #abo dynamics

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lisaalmeida · 4 months

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* Son âme contenait de telles facettes profondes ........ La ballerine, la princesse bohème ........ La sirène, une sirène qui dansait nue au clair de lune aux yeux de la lune .... ...... La déesse sensuelle .......... L'amant au sang noir ........... Et la fille dont les os étaient des cocons pour les nombreuses âmes de papillons perdues qu'elle a sauvées. ..........

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caffedrine · 1 year

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Rio Ortiz - It's Your Fault I'm Lusting - Event Summary

If anyone gets the idea that I know what I’m doing, then we have both made a giant mistake. I do not guarantee anything, much less accuracy.

I think I did pretty decent at keeping it tame this time~

This is set after Rio’s route.

Rio’s extraordinary love for Emma almost always makes her smile. However, there are times when his love makes her anxious as well.

When Rio says her name late in the stillness of the night, her heart beats sweetly. His straightforward expression of love makes her feel embarrassed and shy, but even so, she still loves it. His overexuberance of affection fills her with joy and she is beginning to wish to return this joy to him.

(In full disclosure, this event starts out with Rio already naked, so that's where we're going)

Recently, Emma had all but officially moved into Rio’s room, spending the entire night with him. Even when they don’t have sex, Rio enjoys holding her in his arms while he sleeps. Emma enjoys cuddling with him at night, waking up and having tea together in the morning, and immersing herself in the happiness of being loved.

This morning, Emma wakes up to find Rio already awake and dressed in his formal wear, pouring tea for her. Emma is a little disappointed, she had been hoping to wake up before Rio so she could brew the tea for him this time.

In fact, she actually woke up early, it’s just that Rio woke up earlier. Rio admits that he woke up specifically to watch Emma’s sleeping face, and asks if she wants to go back to sleep. Emma considers this and decides Rio’s tea is more important than sleeping in.

Rio is happy with this response; Emma always knows what to say to make him happy. As thanks, he wants to fix her hair for her this morning. She doesn’t mind; though this reminds her of that time when Rio played her butler back in Rhodolite.

However, anxiety begins to grow in her heart. It feels like recently, she hasn’t been able to dote on Rio the way that he dotes on her. She knows that his love for her was boundless, but she just hasn’t had an opportunity to express her love for him.

As Emma drinks her tea and thinks about other ways she can express her love for Rio, Rio finishes with her hair. He asks if she doesn’t mind if he helps her get dressed today as well, his gaze full of love.

Afterward, with Emma in fresh clothes and light makeup, Rio admires his handiwork. He thinks she is especially cute today and thanks her sincerely for letting him help her get ready this morning. Emma laughs and shyly tells him that he’s exaggerating, but she appreciates his efforts. Suddenly Rio leans forward and kisses her cheek, smiling at her reflection. He assures her that he never exaggerates when it comes to her, everything about her makes him happy. He is delighted at the opportunities she gives him to express the feelings he holds in his heart.

That’s actually a good point. Rio finds opportunities to surprise Emma with joy because he’s not shy or embarrassed about expressing his feelings. Emma needs to take a page out of his book, stop hesitating from shyness or embarrassment, and just be open about how she feels.

Emma catches Rio’s attention and begins to ask about his plans for their day off. As a beginning effort, Emma decides to try using one of the date ideas Rio has come up with in the past.

Today is their first holiday in a long time, and Rio is already in a good enough mood to hum under his breath. They’re walking together through the city when Emma tells him about a café that opened recently, one that has a celebrated pain perdu dish. Rio lights up on this, he’s excited to try it. So excited that he has to spontaneously stop and hug her in the middle of the street.

And then he doesn’t stop. He loves hugging her, to the point that he wants to just stay like this, hugging her forever. Emma appreciates this, but they can’t walk like this, and won’t get to the café anytime soon. The café, which has food that they need to eat in order to live.

They continue walking down the street, arm in arm. Rio admits that if Emma went through all the trouble of inviting him out on a date, he wants to enjoy it to the fullest. Once again, Rio is overwhelmed with his love for Emma. She needs to stop letting shyness get in the way of her expressions of love for Rio.

Continuing down the street with Rio, Emma spies a store selling men’s accessories. She sees a tie clip that would look lovely on Rio in the window and asks Rio to stop. She’s hesitant about just giving him a gift but reminds herself that she needs to stop holding herself back.

She asks Rio to wait for her while she heads inside. Rio doesn’t mind, and with a wink adds that if it’s what she wants, he’ll wait right there forever.

Taking far less than forever, Emma quickly buys the tie pin and presents it to Rio. He looks at the tie pin, very confused, and time around them seems to stop. After a while, Emma prompts Rio to respond, or at least, do something.

Coming back to himself, Rio tells her that he’s so delighted that he forgot to breathe. His fingers trace the tie pin as if checking its quality. Emma doesn’t think he particularly hates it, but he doesn’t seem to like it all that much either.

Rio abruptly repackages the tie pin and shoves it into his pocket, asking Emma if she’s ready to head to the café with the pain perdu. It’s almost noon, they should hurry before the café gets too crowded. For the first time in a long time, he walks just a step ahead of Emma as they head toward the café.

(Rio has a one-track stomach mind)

Rio’s desire level is 100.

In the café, Rio has Emma hand feed him the pain perdu. Emma asks him how he likes it, and Rio exclaims over the fluffy texture and the sweet flavor. Besides that, it’s all the better since Emma is feeding it to Rio. Emma laughs, she’s happy to see Rio so happy, it makes her research into pain perdu cafes worth it.

Rio thought he saw her looking into cafes, he’s delighted that she’s putting in so much effort into making him happy. Emma is happy that she can repay the happiness Rio has brought her in some small way. Leaning forward, Rio admits that this pain perdu doesn’t hold a candle to what Emma makes for him. Laughing, Emma thanks him for his praise, all while mentally chastising herself. She’s trying to make Rio happy not the other way around!

Going on a date with Rio and eating pain perdu isn’t all that different from what they normally do. Emma needs to up her game, she needs to convey her affection and love for Rio more! Maybe she should take another page out of Rio’s book and use her words to convey the full honesty of her feelings.

As Rio happily chews his pain perdu, Emma tells him that she absolutely loves his smile. At Rio’s dumbfounded expression, Emma continues. His smile makes her smile and warms her heart. And he’s so fun to watch when he eats something he enjoys, kind of like right now. His shoulders bounce and his mood visibly improves. She also loves watching him eat something she made, his obvious love of it is so much she feels embarrassed.

With every word she speaks, Emma’s face grows hotter and hotter. By the time she finishes, her face is beet red and hot enough to be on fire. Her gaze drops, so the last bit comes out as if she’s talking to Rio’s meal instead of Rio himself.

It occurs to Emma that she might have overdone it, especially when Rio says nothing in return. Shyly, she raises his gaze to Rio.

Staring at her with wide blue eyes, Rio raised a hand to his mouth in surprise. Making eye contact with Emma, Rio lowers his hand and gives her a smile that makes her want to melt. He loves Emma’s smile too; he would do anything just to see it. It’s so warm and kind . . . it’s hard to describe in words, but he feels like he’s looking at a goddess when she smiles.

Of course, it’s not just her smile that he loves. Rio loves it when she’s thinking with a slight frown, or when she’s wide-eyed and surprised. He loves her no matter what expression she has, he loves her so much that his heart hurts.

With a dazzling smile directed at her, Emma is dismayed to discover that once again she has failed to return Rio’s affection with the intensity that he shows her. Worst of all her face is definitely red right now and boiling hot with a mixture of joy and shame. Suddenly, Rio reaches out to touch Emma’s face. He’s found a new part of her that he loves. He loves how his words of affection embarrass her and turn her face so red.

Yes, Emma has lost to Rio again. Every time she tries to convey her feelings, Rio returns them tenfold more. However, even though Rio is the winner, she can’t help but smile at his words of love. She just needs to try again.

As they leave the café, Emma comes up with a new plan. Even though she feels nervous and embarrassed at public displays of affection, she decides to endure it for Rio’s sake. As they walk down the street, Emma reaches out and wraps her arms around Rio’s, close enough for her cheek to rest on his arm. Reaching down, she entwines her fingers with his, wrapped around him as close as a lover.

At least, this should make Rio happy, right? Feeling her heart pounding, Emma peers up shyly into Rio’s face.

Rio directs Emma’s attention to a nearby shop – there’s a tailor who is selling a lot of clothes that would look good on her.

. . . no response to Emma throwing herself at him?

Emma agrees to go with Rio to look at the store, wondering why Rio doesn’t seem to notice that she’s wrapped herself around his arm. Has he gotten used her to already and just didn’t notice her? Not even a little bit of a reaction?

They look into the window and Rio admires the different accessories and dresses; mentally picturing them on Emma. He considers which ones to gift to her.

Emma assures Rio that if he feels like he owes her something for her present earlier, not to worry about it. She gave him the tie pin just because she felt like it, not because she wanted something.

Rio assures her that he understands, he feels the same way. He’s doing this because feels like it; no other reason. Even though he’s smiling sweetly at her, Emma feels anxiety build up in her heart. Presents, words, physical contact – none of her strategies are going her way. Maybe she hasn’t been trying hard enough?

Giving into Rio, Emma agrees to go inside the shop and see what else the tailor has. She decides to take longer to think of more ways to make Rio happy. From Rio, she thinks she hears him mutter that she’s so cute that it drives him crazy, but she thinks she misheard him.

Inside the shop, Rio is at a loss; everything looks good on Emma. He can’t just choose one or two things; he must purchase the entire store. This is a step too far for Emma, and she demands he stops. Rio backs down and agrees to pick out one thing that suits her the best.

Emma knows Rio enough to know that this isn’t a way of showing off, he honestly is trying to express his love. She realizes that beyond everything else if she wants to match Rio’s level of affection, she also has to think about the magnitude of Rio’s grandiose gestures and adopt them into her plan.

While Emma thinks about this, she doesn’t notice the secret conflicted expression on Rio’s face.

Rio’s desire has reached 150.

Sweet End

At dusk when the world was dyed orange, Emma and Rio finished their date and returned to the castle. It had been a long time since they had a date, and Emma enjoyed it. She was able to plan for and visit a café and did some light shopping.

As Emma watches Rio carefully put away their purchases, she feels unsatisfied. Something had changed after they visited the tailor; as if Rio had mentally taken a step back from her. Wanting to figure it out, Emma gives Rio a hug from behind.

Rio immediately turns away from his task and asks Emma if something is wrong. He turns and hugs her back, holding her against him. Emma decides to go for broke and directly asks him if something happened after they visited the tailor. No matter what she did or tried, something felt off with Rio.

Shyly, Emma looks into Rio’s face, only to see his dazzling smile on her. He tells her that it was just that she was so cute, it drove him especially crazy that day. Emma realizes that Rio noticed that she was acting differently from usual too, which given how attentive Rio is to her, makes sense.

Emma asks if he’s sure that’s it, and Rio assures her that she’s correct. Emma is silent, Rio has given her a clear and direct answer, but she’s still confused. Rio is telling the truth, but there seems to be something else that is hanging between them unsaid. What is it, and why would he hide it from her?

~A few days after the date~

Emma watches the sea from the Benitoite Palace, lost in thought. She doesn’t know why, but she feels like something is going wrong. She has tried various things mirroring Rio’s previous displays of affection, but barely got any reaction to them; nothing that would be comparable to a happy puppy.

Rather, since their date, Emma has only received very calm, mature reactions from Rio.

There are differences between Rio’s displays of affection and hers, and she wants to match Rio’s. What can she do that Rio would like?

Maybe Emma should take a step back; she’s done a lot to Rio in a short amount of time and might have gone overboard. Maybe he’s become numb to her affection?

Jingle-jingle. Someone calls out to Emma, asking why she’s moping alone in a public corridor. Looking around, Emma quickly locates Silvio and wonders how much he overheard. As if to reassure her thoughts, Silvio tells her that she has a habit of talking to herself. A lot.

How embarrassing. Emma apologizes, turning to focus on Silvio.

Silvio asks if she wants to talk about it. Suspicious, Emma asks him what his angle is, but Silvio praises her courage in doubting his good intentions.

Emma backs up; Silvio is acting weird. He wouldn’t just randomly start caring about her. But on the other hand, Silvio is also Rio’s older brother and has known him for all of Rio’s life. She might be able to get a hint of what she wants to know about Rio from him.

(How could anyone believe he is anything other than a sweet and caring brother in law?)

Emma tells Silvio that she’ll take his word for it, you see-

After telling him everything from the beginning, Silvio bursts out laughing evilly, mentioning that he half expected this. He tells her that if pushing all her affections on Rio doesn’t work, she should try pulling back.

Well, Emma is all out of ideas, so she might as well try Silvio. The past few days she’s been pushing her feelings onto Rio, he could probably use a break from her. She can use this break to calm down and think seriously and methodically about what Rio would want. She honestly thanks Silvio, who only gives her a meaningful smile.

~That night~

After finishing their official duties, Emma spends time relaxing with Rio. She comments that he must be tired, she heard that he had a busy day. Rio assures her that he’s fine; after seeing Emma’s smiling face waiting for him after work, his tiredness drained from him completely. Laughing, Emma tells Rio to take care of himself and not overdo it.

Silvio’s advice rings through her head, and Emma decides to give it a try – especially since Rio is tired and could use the break.

To Rio’s surprise, Emma announces that she’ll go ahead and return to her room early today. Normally, she would go to bed and sleep beside Rio at night and wake up to him first thing in the morning. This would be the first time in a long while sleeping apart from him.

Rio gives her a sweet smile and thanks her for thinking about him. But it’s not like that, so she doesn’t need to worry about him and leave him alone.

Oh no! Following Silvio’s advice has only made Rio worry about her! Emma tilts her head as she considers her words and decides to be honest and explain.

Rio has been working hard, and she wants to make sure he can rest. They’ve been together for so long; he must want to take a break and spend some time alone. Rio looks visibly shaken at this, and Emma silently apologizes to him. She wants to stay by his side, but doubtlessly she’ll start trying to do something to him and bother him. It’s best that she let him recover at least a little bit by himself.

Emma wishes Rio a good night, touching his arm and kissing him gently. It’s such a sweet kiss that Emma can’t help but go in for a second one. At a surprised reaction from Rio, Emma catches herself and apologizes, wishing for a relaxing night to Rio.

Emma quickly leaves Rio’s room, heading towards her own before she tries to go in for a third kiss. How embarrassing, Emma needs to go back to her room quickly. Her sense of propriety and distance is unbalanced, especially considering how she’s acted these past few days. If she leaves right now, and if she’s very lucky, Rio might not think she’s strange.

Recalling the look of surprise on Rio’s face when she kissed him, Emma wants to sigh mournfully again. Suddenly Rio runs out into the hallway, calling for Emma to wait.

Rio’s desire level has reached 500.

Premium End

Expecting to spend the night together with Emma, Rio was caught off guard when instead of getting ready to go to bed with him, Emma left. He spent a few seconds recovering from the surprise before running out the door and chasing after Emma down the hall. He recalls a conversation he had with his brother the previous night.

*Flashback time*

Rio is complaining/bragging about how much cuter Emma has been acting and how he can barely restrain himself.

Rio often finds Silvio drinking on the balcony outside and uses him as a source of advice. Since Silvio has such a great history with women and all. This problem is difficult enough that he needs a warm body to at least act as a sounding board.

Right now, he is telling a silent, drinking Silvio about how Emma has been hugging him in front of other people, and how delighted he was to the point of not being able to breathe. He’s caught on that she’s following his example in expressing her feelings, and the results make him very happy, but there’s a new problem.

Every time Emma does something like this to him, evil, perverted thoughts flow through Rio’s mind. What should he do? After a long break, Silvio lets out a long sigh and responds to Rio.

How is it that if Silvio were to search the very corners of the world, he wouldn’t be able to find someone who can make his alcohol taste so bad simply by talking?

Silvio takes another moment to obviously pretend at considering Rio’s question. He asks if that’s seriously Rio’s problem, having wicked thoughts.

Silvio’s advice is to play it cool; make Emma come to him, focus on him, and want him more.

(Source: Dude, trust me, bro)

*Flashback End*

With anxiety in his heart, Rio catches up to Emma and grabs her wrist. He immediately apologizes and explains that he has noticed her showering him with affection. But he had no idea how to react, like when he got that present, the tie pin. He knows how to react when gifted with sweets and accessories that he can wear on special days. Having something that he can wear as an everyday accessory was new ground for him.

And besides that, he had been on a date that Emma had invited him on, so his heart was already soaring with happiness. He belatedly thanks her for that day, explaining that he could hardly breathe from joy. He knows that he didn’t react that well to the gift, and Emma agrees that Rio’s reaction seemed muted. She had been wondering if something was wrong.

On that note, what was with his lack of reaction when Emma had hugged his arm and clung to him? Did Rio not like that? Emma’s expression was remorseful and apologetic, and Rio quickly assured her that she was wrong.

Rio recalls that day when Emma had spoken so sweetly to him at the café. She had been acting out of character as if trying to imitate the way he put his feelings into words. He had thought that she was trying to show him the same affection, which suddenly made her odd behavior make sense.

Rio admits that he loved it when Emma touched him, loved how soft she felt against him. He had thought that if he pretended that he didn’t notice it, she would continue doing it. He immediately apologizes for playing with Emma’s feelings.

Emma assures him that she doesn’t mind, if anything, she needs to apologize for surprising Rio by acting out of character. Really, she’s sorry.

Rio assures her that she has nothing to apologize for, if anything he was happy that she was so lovey-dovey with him. He gently strokes her hair, and the guilt inside his chest disappears. All that he has left is to love Emma. Returning to his room with her in his arms, Rio whispers an apology for making her uneasy.

Come to think of it, why did Emma change up her tactics tonight?

The story Emma tells him is unexpected, and Rio wonders if this is a kind of revenge perpetrated by his brother in retaliation for bothering him last night. Then again, it turned out to be good advice, as they were able to bring their problems to the forefront and solve them.

Since things are back to normal, Emma grabs Rio’s sleeve and asks if she can spend the night with him.

Oh, how cute!

Rio admits that he brought Emma back to his room with that very intention. He can’t just say goodbye for the night after having that kind of conversation, and besides, he wants to convey his love to her. He reaches out to gently cup her cheek and kiss her gently.

Parting, Rio admits that the problem is that he’s not used to receiving this kind of love. He acted that way because he wanted more of that kind of love from her, though he obviously didn’t react well.

Emma agrees to try again, slowly so that he can get used to him. She had wanted to be more proactive in displaying her affection for Rio, so she had used him as an example of how to act.

Rio complains that Emma’s words and actions are too dangerous, his head is spinning, and he is even deeper in love with her. He kisses her again and again. When he pulls back, Emma leans forward, her lips chasing his. Even now, she’s conveying her love for him, and he lets her take initiative, continuing kissing.

He doesn’t want to interrupt Emma’s kiss, but he also wants to do more. He places a hand on Emma’s corset straps, but Emma tells him to wait. This tries Rio’s obedience, and he doesn’t want to ‘wait’.

But a look in Emma’s eyes makes his hands stop. She explains that she wants to do everything tonight.

Rio’s brain goes dizzy with the implications as his imagination goes wild. He cannot refuse Emma anything and asks her to proceed. Very gently, Emma pushes Rio back onto the bed.

Rio’s desire has reached ∞.

(Seriously)

Epilogue

With Emma’s words, Rio sinks into a sea of sheets; not yet used to communicating and receiving love this way. All he can hear in the stillness of his room is the sound of their breathing and the rustling of clothes against sheets. Rio’s heart wants to burst with happiness as he is showered by kisses all over his face over and over again.

Emma stops, pulling back to focus on his clothes again. Very clumsily, she begins to undo his shirt, her face bright red. She kisses him again and again, whispering that she loves him.

Rio feels the same way about her.

Their lips meet again, and he feels Emma’s tongue hesitantly slide into his mouth. He entwines his own tongue with hers in answer, his breathing becoming rough and uneven. He wants to touch Emma even more.

He reaches out his hand, only to have Emma stop him, entwining her fingers with his. She insists that he let her do this. Rio does want to do what Emma wants, but he also is near his limit. Emma’s sweet smell, her soft touch, and her hot skin are overriding Rio’s sanity, and he’s filled with a mix of frustration and happiness.

Rio points out that right now, he’s naked, but Emma is not. He feels embarrassed being the only one, so she should take pity on him and also take off her clothes.

Yes, this makes absolute sense to Emma. Reaching to her corset, she quickly unties it and shucks off her clothes.

Out of patience, Rio reaches up to wrap his arms around Emma. She protests, but Rio apologizes, explaining that he is out of time now, and asks permission to touch her.

They receive each other’s love.

The next morning comes with the sound of chirping birds. Emma wakes up to find that Rio is already awake, albeit still in bed. He admits that once again, he woke up early, but wanted to watch her sleep.

That morning, Emma helps Rio put on his clothes, fastening his buttons and taking care of him. Rio enjoys it, feeling himself helplessly smile like a fool.

When Emma disappears and then reappears from his closet, Rio feels an unusual sense of relief. He remembers the feeling he had when Emma tried to return to her room alone the previous night, and murmurs that he’s relieved it turned out this way.

At Emma’s confused look, he explains about going to Silvio for advice and what they talked about what he said. Emma can’t help but laugh, and Rio pouts; Silvio gave him bad advice, and he was worried that he angered her enough to leave him and never come back.

Emma can only laugh, now she understands that Silvio had actually sought her out to give her ‘advice’ as a sort of revenge. Rio will have to give this one to Silvio; perhaps he was wrong in interrupting his brother’s drink to ask for advice on his sex life.

Suddenly he remembers something and pulls out a package, handing it to Emma. It’s the tie pin she gave him on their date days ago. Emma asks if he wants her to put it on him, and Rio does.

Afterward, Rio checks himself in the full mirror in his room, and Emma leans in behind him to also admire his reflection. Emma admires how the pin compliments his appearance, and Rio thanks her, feeling the warmth of her smile envelope his body.

There still feels like there is something missing this morning. Rio gets an idea, and turns to Emma, asking for a favor. Since they’re getting used to her showering him with affection, it would be nice to practice a little right now, right? He asks Emma to kiss him. Emma looks a little surprised at the request, but she complies.

Emma’s kisses are sweet like milk and tea, wrapped in a mellow tenderness. Rio revels in the feeling of loving and being loved.

#ikemen prince #ikepri #rio ortiz #event

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