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caffedrine · 27 days

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Ikemen Prince Act 4 Prologue Summary

I pretty much have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t trust me, and you shouldn’t either. This summary is not guaranteed to be accurate, it’s mostly written for myself to follow along with all the lore that was just dropped.

Emma has had a recurring dream where she finds a book in a beautiful rose garden and reads it. Unfortunately, the book is unfinished, and leaves her feeling unsatisfied. We then get a summary of Acts 1 and 2 - Emma was chosen as Belle, the woman to choose the next king of Rhodolite from a selection of 8 princes. She also has to go undercover due to the visit of 3 foreign princes. Ultimately, she gets through her trials, chooses a good king, doesn’t get entangled with anyone, and avoids being chained up in Gilbert’s love dungeon. This should count as a happy ending to the story, but it leaves Emma feeling unfulfilled. She wants to have her own adventures, learn more things, meet new people, and maybe fall in love with someone.

Emma eventually wakes up from her flashback nap only to find that she is still in the bookstore, having fallen asleep while reading a book. Just as she starts to get up to close the shop, she realizes she’s not alone.

The shop’s owner and her adopted ‘too young to be a dad’ not-father has returned. He often travels the world, purchasing and selling rare books, and is back from his last year-long trip.

Though he is not a native to Rhodolite, and still wears the beautiful, eye-catching clothes from his native home in Ruby, he has set up a permanent shop in Rhodolite’s capital city. And, he has taken care of Emma since she was a child.

Akatsuki, the shop owner, reveals that he knows all about Emma’s time as Belle, as Sariel had been sending him regular letters. He had hurried home when he heard that pipsqueak from Obsidian had also shown up, but it looks like Emma got through that ordeal just fine without him.

Emma assures Akatsuki that nothing major had happened during her time as Belle, and she had actually enjoyed it. It had given her a new perspective and opened up new avenues of interest for her.

Akatsuki points at the book Emma had been napping on and asks if that’s why she’s changed from romance novels to studying continental history.

This segues into Emma admitting that she feels trapped in a small world since her last experiences and wants to travel the world just like Akatsuki does. Akatsuki offers to take her with him on his next trip.

Emma is excited, and Akatsuki tells her that as his valued employee, it’s time for her to learn how to purchase books as well.

Akatsuki unfurls a map and sits with Emma. While not usually a problem, these days things are a lot more dangerous than they were. Emma asks if it’s the 3-country alliance between Tanzanite, Ruby, and Acroite. She heard about it briefly during her time as Belle.

And yes, that’s exactly the problem. Right now, the countries are not hostile, but this could be the calm before the storm. Akatsuki asks if, despite knowing of the danger, will Emma leave the relative safety of Rhodolite and travel to these countries with him.

If this had been before her time as Belle, Emma probably would have refused. But now, after meeting the princes of Rhodolite, Emma agrees without hesitation.

So, the next step is to choose the country. Each has its own dangers, but it is how Akatsuki will get his rare books. Notably, Akatsuki is somewhat hesitant about going to Ruby.

Since this is her training trip, Akatsuki generously lets Emma choose their destination. To help her decide, Emma asks Akatsuki to tell her about each country.

Tanzanite

Tanzanite is the land of divination and illusion. Everything is determined by the living god.

The living god is a person born with silver hair and silver eyes. But - it’s not just his appearance that is unique - he is clairvoyant beyond anyone in recorded history, each of his prophesies/predictions has come true. He is considered a miracle bestowed upon Tanzanite by god.

Meanwhile, in Tanzanite

In the Tanzanite throne room, filled with people bristling with excitement, a huge moon shines down as if protecting the people.

With one word, the living god Azel is able to silence the entire vast room of people. With a benevolent visage, Azel tells the crow that god has this spoken and tells them to develop the policies to follow the divine will. Or don’t, it’s their choice whether or not to follow divine will. Just don’t make a choice that they will regret. The heavens will be watching.

Finished, Azel stands up and simultaneously the crowd falls to their knees, their heads pressed against the floor. Among the crowd, the King of Tanzanite tells Azel that there is a banquet being held in his honor and asks him to attend. Azel politely declines - he can’t imagine anyone would enjoy their meal if god were to attend. He’ll just quietly return home, no need to see him off. He bids everyone a farewell, praying that god will bless them.

As he leaves the group, Azel finds himself alone in a quiet hallway lit only by the moon, the night's natural calm returning. Or almost alone.

A woman is waiting for him, dressed in provocative dancer’s garb. She is carrying a variety of dishes and asks if he’s in a good mood. Azel thanks her for her consideration, but he must decline. The woman points out that he already declined the banquet held by the king, but after that divination, he must be hungry. At this, Azel’s traitorous stomach growls. Again, Azel thanks her and declines, mentioning that he is actually in a hurry, and could she get out of his way?

The woman moves to block his path completely as Azel tries to brush past her. Azel loses it, calling her stupid and refusing to understand him no matter what he says. He trips the woman over his foot, and she falls to the ground, dropping all the food.

Azel feels so sorry . . . For the wasted food. His eyes full of compassion, he laughs and asks the woman to lick up the food. She is stunned, and Azel explains that it goes against his morals to waste food. He gesture at an upturned bowl of soup and tells her to crawl to it like a dog and lick it up so it isn’t wasted.

Of course, Azel isn’t a tyrannical monster, he’s not forcing the woman to do anything. It’s her freedom to choose to follow the living god’s will or not.

The woman hesitates, but in the end, she brings her face down to the soup and licks it up. Soon, her body grows hot and her gaze clouds with lust, and she looks up at Azel. Azel surmises the soup must have been laced with an aphrodisiac- he guesses the poor woman’s fortune isn’t good at all today.

Or rather, she is extremely fortunate. The living god, Azel, will keep this a secret between them and won’t tell anyone about her misdeeds.

Azel walks past the woman and calls over his shoulder that she can feel free to take care of herself, or any other option she might have available to her. He will take his leave now.

The woman reaches out to try to cling to his legs and tells him that she loves him. She would do anything, give up anything for their living god. She asks Azel if these feelings she has for him truly is a sin?

(Azel does not appreciate his almost-rapist declaring love)

Azel turns around and tells her that god doesn’t love anyone, since it doesn’t give him any advantage. Well, maybe if she gave him the same amount of money Silvio does, he would consider it. But as she is, she has nothing he wants.

Azel thinks the woman still doesn’t understand, so he will say it plainer. Get out of his sight, he can’t stand her. The woman gasps as the compassion drains from Azel’s face. His eyes are as cold as a desert night, and he looks down on her as if she is an insect.

Most of the time, it’s not love that people like her feel, it’s greed drowning stupid women like her. Under the moonlight, Azel laughs coldly and without any sense of compassion.

Everyone in this country protected by god is living a happy dream. On the day the dream crumbles away, Azel wonders when people will get over the shock and laugh with him.

Acroite

The country is built on a steep mountain range where it snows year-round. Everyone follows strict laws, making it the safest country on the continent. The laws are enforced by the Keepers of the Laws, people who can set aside their humanity and rule everything fair and balanced.

Recently, the penalties for lawbreaking have become harsher and more severe, but the country is extremely stable and orderly. If someone commits a crime, the Keepers of the Laws will make you pay.

Meanwhile, in Acroite

Snowflakes, large enough to be mistaken for flower petals, flutter down on the houses, coating everything in a white winter wonderland scene.

The lamp-lit street is bustling and full of people, but unlike other cities, there are groups of people missing. There are no beggars, drunks, or youths itching for a fight. It is because in this country, those activities are illegal, and one can expect to be swiftly arrested.

However, there is a corner where a large group of women have gathered, all jockeying for position. One woman after another asks Matthias to join them at a party, or for dinner. Matthias politely thanks them and explains that he doesn’t want to be late for work.

Matthias Osbrink, the First Prince of Acroite, the Keeper of the Law. He has blond hair the color of the fading rays of twilight and sad eyes the color of snow in shadow. While he has a stiff demeanor- he is still considered very appealing. The women around him gaze at him with enchanted expressions.

He combs back his hair with a sigh, to the delight of the women watching, and hurries away. A fellow judge walks next to him, patting him on the back sympathetically. He teases Matthias for being so popular with the ladies.

Matthias complains that his coworker didn’t help him at all, after all, Matthias is famous for not being good at dealing with women.

The coworker agrees that he knows that, but unfortunately, he is too busy being envious of Matthias’ luck with women to help him out. If anything, he wanted to switch places.

Matthias asks if his coworker noticed the look in those women’s eyes. They were the eyes of a warrior, determined to annihilate the enemy.

The coworker is taken aback, he was certain they were just lovely women.

Matthias complains that he doesn’t care if they are beautiful or not, the problem is that they are not his soulmate.

His ideal woman is someone who doesn’t venerate him, nor does she look at him like she’s preparing for war. In fact, she’s the type of person who would kiss him goodbye in the morning while adjusting his tie. Afterward, she would smile gently as she waved goodbye and . . .

Yes, yes, this isn’t the first time Matthias’ coworker has heard this fantasy. Honestly, he would say it is starting to get embarrassing, but they passed that mark a long time ago.

Quietly, Matthias’ coworker asks if he’s okay. Matthias points out that he’s spent the past ten minutes explaining how he’s not okay and needs to be rescued from these warrior women.

That’s not what Mathias’ coworker meant. The defendant for today’s trial is Matthias’ friend.

Matthias summarizes his relationship with the defendant. They were roommates at the Royal Academy, and when they joined the National Guard together, they were in the same unit. Matthias recalls him as being a good person, with a cheerful personality, smart, and witty. And, unlike Matthias’s coworker, was good with handling women and could help Matthias out of the situation before.

(Conflict of interest? What is that?)

Matthias sees no problem with handling the trial. After all, he is a member of the Osbrink family.

The seat of the country’s justice, the royal court, was filled with a solemn crowd of defendants, lawyers, state officials, investigators, and a large number of citizens. The five judges, the Keepers of Law, sit high above with everyone watching them.

Matthias summons the defendant, accused of selling secret Acroite military information, forward to testify. While the defendant looks haggard, there is a gleam of hope in his eye. It is well known that the defendant was friends with the Keeper of Law, Matthias.

After the testimony, Matthias rules that there is no reason to exonerate the defendant from his crimes. The defendant disagrees, he made a mistake, yes, but death is too heavy a punishment for it. Matthias disagrees, the law is the law, and as a citizen of Acroite, the defendant must abide by the sentence. The execution will take place in five days at noon.

The defendant collapses, and Matthias watches him being taken away with snow-shadow eyes. With that, Matthias ends the trial and closes the court.

After everyone leaves, Matthias remains behind in the empty courtroom. In the same emotionless voice, he used when he proclaimed the sentence, Matthias mutters that he did the right thing just now. He’s the Crown Prince of Acroite, the land of snow and laws. It’s his duty to condemn and punish all evil.

Ruby

The last country on the list of options is Ruby, the land of Cherry Blossoms and Turbulent Times. The situation is complicated, the country is in a 3-way civil war, each with foreign backing. In theory, there is a royal family, but they’re all on opposite sides.

There is, however, a safe area, in Kagari-Yaksha’s territory.

Yaksha? Emma asks Akatsuki to explain that.

It’s a title of sorts given to one of the faction leaders, a true battle fanatic who has never lost a fight. If they go under his protection, they’ll be safe. For now. As long as he doesn’t decide that they’re his enemies.

Meanwhile, in Ruby

A group of men run through the forest, hoods low over their heads and swords hanging from their belts. When they near a red-tiled castle illuminated by lanterns, they halt and gather to strategize.

A voice begins counting them, 100, 200, at least less than 400. The men all start and grab at their swords, searching the darkness for the voice.

Without a sound, a man with fiery red hair and green eyes appears before them. He asks if they were planning on launching a night attack with so many worthless people. Honestly, they’re barely even worth killing. Compared to all the other factions, these people are barely more than half-trained children. The man asks if they are still planning on going through with their attack. If they give up and turn around now, he’ll let them leave.

One of the attackers notes his hair and eyes and identifies him as Kagari, the Yaksha. Another attacker laughs, explaining that from the rumors, he was expecting a beast of a man, but instead its just some pretty guy. It’s not bad to be disappointed from time to time. Besides, even if he is the warrior of rumor, he is but one man against –

Another hooded attacker recoils as the speaker’s head falls to the ground. Kagari apologizes, he grew bored of waiting for the speaker to finish talking. He tells the men that he’s kind of busy, so rather than killing them one by one, he would prefer it if they just all came at him at once. Hey, even weaklings like them might give him some entertainment if they work together. When one of the attackers protests, Kagari tells him not to get angry, he’s just telling them the truth.

The difference in their ability was obvious.

Kagari notes that this is what it’s like to be weak. Even if they never met him, these men would have still died young. He dodges their attack like a wildcat, his movements quick and efficient. With each stab of his sword, a vital area is struck, and bright red droplets dance like cherry blossoms in the wind. The final attacker tries to run, but Kagari throws his sword, striking the man. Kagari bemoans how heartless people are these days, leaving their comrades to die alone.

The final attacker explains that they’re not comrades, he’s a mercenary who was just hired to do a job with them. He begs Kagari for mercy.

In this country the strong are good and the weak are evil. Therefore, a weak person like this mercenary has no place in Ruby. If he dies here and now, he doesn’t have to go through life being a weak coward who hates himself. Really, Kagari is doing him a favor.

He kills the man quickly, and then disappointedly notes that everyone else is dead.

The quiet night is interrupted again by the sound of approaching footsteps. Kagari’s subordinates arrive, and he orders them to send the bodies back to their employer. The subordinates complain that Kagari went off without them again. Kagari asks if they want to be killed along with the attackers. The subordinates grow pale and Kagari tells them that he was just joking. Mostly.

Kagari sheathes his sword, and the atmosphere lightens. He tells his subordinates that he’s fine on his own, and if they’re useless in a fight, they’ll just get in his way. But even he understands strategy enough to know that the more pieces one has, the better.

No one chases after the Yaksha when he walks away.

With an unsteady step, Kagari settles beneath a cherry tree, and notes that there is a full moon tonight. He watches some of the petals fall in front of him.

(Some days you just wanna take a nap)

The bushes next to him rustle though there is no wind. Kagari asks if they’ve come again.

A cat pops out of the bush and meows at Kagari. Kagari meows in reply and tells the cat he’s especially bloody tonight, so they should stay away. The cat doesn’t heed his warning and approaches Kagari, tail held high.

Kagari muses that if the cat lives in this country, they’re probably used to the smell of blood by now. He lies down, using his sword as a makeshift pillow. The cat trots over to his side and when he strokes under their chin, they begin to fall asleep.

Kagari complains that the cat is too small, too fragile, and too forgetful to survive. They’re going to die soon. Then again, the cat is choosing to sleep next to the Yaksha, a good choice to live a long life.

A shadow flickers in Kagari’s eyes and he pulls his sword close to himself. He wonders when the next battle will be. Tomorrow, the day after?

Unfortunately fighting doesn’t put food on the table. If things continue, he may starve to death. He needs to hurry up before that happens, and then everything will be easier.

Rhodolite

Finished talking about the four countries, Akatsuki turns to Emma and asks which country she has chosen.

Emma thinks that all the countries are interesting, and any one of them would be a good choice. After listening to Akatsuki, Emma chooses.

#ikemen prince #ikepri

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presidentlokis-hornyhelmet · 9 months

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Loki x wife!Reader Headcanons [throughout the MCU]

Thor1 Loki: He's so soft soft baby TM and caring and always so sweet to you, in private or in public. Love is overflowing! Always kissing you and spoiling you. Not handsy but is always hand holding, or wraps arm around your waist. 2x Verbal Admiration than when he courted you. Favorite thing in the world is your blush and your laugh. You make him melt and he worships the ground you walk on. Gifts, LOTS of gifts.

"i don't deserve you, y/n." "If You don't deserve me, no one else does."

💕How is the love-making?: Soft and Full of emotion! Worships your body; worships You. He'll make you understand why it's called love-making. Frequent eye contact because he loves getting lost in your eyes. Asgard who? (Odin has to forbid you from seeing Loki at work hours because it distracts him😂)

Avengers1 Loki: won't even look you in the eye, ignores your presence like his heritage. When you do manage to get a word with him, he'll Loki-talk you (i.e. vague words with ambiguous meanings that can be interpreted any way) into thinking he's been cheating on you (LIES). Not even a decent answer. Refuses to give you anything but his ire.

"You still think me a lovesick puppy, girl?" "My husband is a God who's just deeply devoted to his wife! Who are you and what have you done to him!?" "Tut tut, my darling Lorelei -oh wait, that's not Your name." *smirks evilly and vanishes*

💕Um.. love-making..?: most probably not, he's busy being Villain TM. But if you do manage to, he'll end up leaving you unsatisfied or humiliated, tossing you away like a rag doll -anything to make you think he's a bad guy (He's not. But you have to, otherwise The Other might hurt you too.)

TDW Loki: he'd still keep up the A1 facade and if you still want him, he'll be mean and act borderline disrespectful, claiming it's your duty as his wife. But in reality, he only wants to hurt you because spending the rest of his life locked up will be easier with you hating him. Looks at you longingly from his cell with an inexplicable sadness in his eyes, but will aboslutely deny it.

"I know you wouldn't invade Midgard simply for power. I know you are above that, Loki." "It is 'my Prince' to you. And, I'd rather you stick to your duties as just my wife."

💕Smut?: Sure, if you hide it from Odin's knowledge. Lots of degradation, though. You can see the apology on his face, feel the desperation on his touch and hear the veiled sadness is his piercing words. His body language is begging you to stay, yearning for you and hoping you'd understand. Once it's over, he won't even look at your eyes knowing if he does, he can't be mean to you. What hurts him should make him stronger.

TR Loki: After he shockingly discovered his mysterious survival, he ran back to the palace in search of you. But got to Odin first and.. y'know. He's successfully avoided any romance with you thanks to his disguise, but yearning is on the double when he sees the depth of your devotion.

"All-Father, I wish to petition a statue on my... late husband's behalf. Of him, of what he's done for Asgard." "He's a traitor and a convict." "Who gave his life in atonement. It was a misguided atte-" "Misguided!? Is that what you call acting against the Hlidskjalf? He invaded Midgard and took innocent lives!" "And paid for it with his own. I beg your reconsideration, All-Father." *After a long, scrutinizing pause* "The council will decide." "T-thank you, All-Father." *Loki as Odin looks at you bow and retreat, sadness in his eyes* 'Oh, my love, how do you still love me after all I've done to you?'

After evading death by planetary destruction and back in the Statesman hale, healthy and alive, he makes up for earlier. You refuse to accept, still feeling bitter, but Loki has his ways ;)

💕How so? 👀: As I said, making up. For dayyyys. Lots of apologizing, lots of begging and even the occasional spanking. Many, many rounds even. Thor is quite concerned. Wait, why is Loki carrying you everywhere, can't you wal- OH.

IW Loki: If you thought you knew how much he loves you (in Thor1), oh baby, you're about to be proven wrong. F*cking killed Thanos in, like, 2 seconds max. All it took was Big Ugly Grape-head to see you and give a creepy smile, the next minute he's lying headless on the ground, his army dissipating into dust.

"The tesseract or yo-" *gets decapitated by Loki*

❓And the love-making?: .... uh, doubtful.. Thor is busy choking your husband about why the f*ck he didn't say anything of having the tesseract. (Seriously, Thor, how else did you think he survived a planetary level destruction!? *exasperated sigh*)

And you lived happily ever after <3

The end. 💚

#loki x reader #loki x reader imagine #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagines #loki headcanon #loki x you imagine #loki x wife reader #loki x female reader #loki x f!reader #loki x fem reader #loki x y/n imagines #loki imagine #loki x reader imadine #loki x reader headcanon #loki #loki marvel #loki mcu

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blegh-110 · 10 months

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Have I found you, flightless bird? (4/?)

Pairing: Soft!Dark!Tangerine x Fem!Crybaby!Reader

Summary: In which you’re resistance against Tangerine is breaking.

Chapter Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, kissing, SMUT: fingering, spanking

Word Count: 8.3k

You don’t know how much time has passed by since you were first taken here. You tried to keep track at first and were doing well, but then the days started to blend together and you couldn’t remember what you’d done the day before. Which wasn’t much.

Even though there were many rooms for your entertainment, you refused to use them because using them means giving into Tangerine. And that was the absolute, last thing you wanted.

As you lay in bed and begin going over your day, you have a realization that you will have to wake up and do it all over again; absolutely nothing.

There are a few times where you’re so overcome with anger towards Tangerine, and his actions that he believed were acts of kindness and love, that you take it out on anything and aren’t fearful of the consequences. Like right now, when he’s made you dinner, nothing out of the ordinary from the daily routine. But today you are feeling especially enraged, just staring at Tangerine makes you want to scream. You sit at the dinner table and watch him cook one of your favorite meals. You can’t look away from him as your negative emotions rise, and you have no interest in looking away and calming yourself down. No, you want to continue being livid and get a reaction out of the deranged man, just so you can have more reason to loathe him.

Tangerine begins cutting your food and that just about does it. Again, this is nothing out of the ordinary, he always cuts your food into smaller bits. But today is not one of your best emotionally, the fact that he believed you weren’t capable enough to cut your own food set you off. But that wasn’t the reason why Tangerine cuts your food, he just wants to take care of you and not let you lift a single finger.

He walks over to the dinner table and places the plate in front of you. At this point, Tangerine can see your emotional state and is just waiting for the moment you snap. But he thinks you’ll act out verbally, so when you pick up your plate of food and throw it across the room, he freezes. The closest you ever did something like that was on that very first day, when you had tried to escape.

The glass shatters on the kitchen floor and the sauce splatters everywhere. You look at Tangerine and hope to see his eyebrows furrowed together paired with a furious frown, but he only sighs and walks back to the stove, making you another plate.

“Please eat, you’ve hardly had anything today, love.” He says when he comes back, then leaves a sweet kiss on your cheek and tends to the mess, which leaves you feeling a mix of emotions. You’re confused, but at the same time relieved, as well as empty and unsatisfied. Worst of all, you suddenly felt guilt slowly fill up your empty stomach as you watched Tangerine clean up your mess from the floor.

And when he was getting you ready for bed and brushing your hair, he spoke about what you did, and you feel awful.

“(Y/N), what you did tonight was not okay. I understand you are still getting used to living here and maybe you don’t know how to deal with that, which is okay, but you have to tell me you aren’t feeling alright.” Tangerine speaks. He chooses his words carefully, wanting to get it into your head that the way you acted was out of line, but he doesn’t want to make you feel like a bad person. You just needed a little reminder.

But you’re extremely sensitive, and the smallest scolding made you upset at yourself and cry. And this is no different.

You nod your head guiltily, not wanting to speak and risk breaking down. All you want is to be held, like the first time you met him on the train. He was so sturdy but soft. You need to feel one hand smoothing down your hair and the other rubbing circles on your back. The closest you come to that is when he takes your hand in his and leads you to your shared bed, where he lifts up the comforter and lets you crawl into bed. Instead of joining you, he begins walking out.

“Where are you going?” You whispered, the ball in your throat not allowing you to speak any louder.

“I’m sleeping in a different room tonight,”

At this moment, you want to beg him not to go and promise him that you’ll never behave like that again, but you say nothing. Tangerine sees the heartbroken look on your face and is ready to backtrack on your punishment, but he knows what he’s doing has to be done.

“I don’t want to do this, there is nothing more I have enjoyed than sleeping next to you, but I need you to understand that there are consequences to your actions.” He says while holding your face in his hands.

“If you need anything, come out and tell me, I’ll just be in the guest room, okay?”

You nod your head and stare at his blurry figure through your teary eyes. Once he leaves (without a kiss) and the door closes, the tears fall and you become frustrated and confused.

Why am I acting this way? You think.

You should be happy that you have a night to yourself without tight arms wrapped around you. Instead, you’re cold and lonely as you lay in bed. And so incredibly guilty to the point where you think you’ve ruined Tangerine’s thoughts about you. You convince yourself that he hates you now, that your actions truly angered him so much that he didn’t want to see you or be near you.

As you silently cry yourself to sleep, you can only agree with the bad thoughts and sink deeper into your insecurities and sadness.

Tangerine is quick to get out of bed and get dressed when he wakes up. His plan was to get up early and make you a nice breakfast, an extra special one because you took your punishment very well and he feels awful for doing that to you. But he ditches that plan because he wants to see you as soon as possible and check to see how you’re doing.

He opens the door and is greeted with a sad sight. You’re already awake, you have been for the past hour, and you’re sitting up with slumped shoulders staring at the wall with sad eyes. You don’t turn to him when the door opens, you don’t even notice it, too spaced out.

“Oh, darling.” He says to himself and walks towards you. You see him in the corner of your eye but don’t dare to look at him.

“Let’s go downstairs and get something in your stomach, yeah?” He whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His soothing voice and gentle touch are already making you feel better, but that guilt is still there, heavy on your chest. Every bad thought you had created throughout the night only clouded your judgment. You feel like a burden.

“C’mon.” Tangerine takes your hand in his rough ones and stands you up from the sheets.

Once in the kitchen, that awful feeling on your chest spreads to your stomach, making your hunger worse. Thankfully, Tangerine doesn’t let go of your hand or stop any of his physical touch, he can clearly see the regretful state you are in.

For just a second your heart drops when he lets go of your hand, but then you find yourself sitting on top of the counter. The coldness on your thighs not only makes you shiver, but it also deepens you into your sorrowful mood. You’re distressed and hyperaware of everything, you felt yourself on the edge of crumbling into a ball and breaking down.

While you felt your world about to crash, Tangerine glanced at you and once again felt his own heart break. He saw your stiff body, furrowed eyebrows, and anxious eyes filling up with tears, and decided that you’ve had enough.

Then Tangerine’s arms are around you, engulfing your entire being in a hug. And all of those bad feelings and thoughts are gone in an instant. His tight grip brings you back down to earth and makes you let out the breath you were holding since last night.

“You did so well for me, (Y/N). So proud of you,”

“Missed you so much last night, couldn’t even sleep properly without you,”

“M’not letting you go tonight.”

His words make you start crying and grip his shirt, for the first time you completely melt into him and the endless caresses. It’s enough to make you confess some of those upsetting feelings.

“M’sorry, feel so bad. And I was so cold and lonely and-” You don’t finish your sentence when a cry leaves your mouth, your words also take an effect on Tangerine when he somehow holds you closer.

“All is forgiven, my love. It’s over now.” And he gives you a long kiss on your cheek, the first one since your punishment, that gives you butterflies and makes you dizzy. His affection and gentle kisses to your face make you want to return it, to wrap your arms around him and press your mouth against his. You shake your head to clear your mind, yet you nuzzle your head into his shoulder for more comfort.

After holding on desperately to each other for a while longer, Tangerine has to tear himself away from you despite your whines and your pretty eyes threatening to spill more tears.

“I know, I know, v’got to get you some food. What do you feel like, lovely?”

You have trouble answering, getting flashbacks from last night. You also don’t feel like you’re able to speak properly, so you shrug your shoulders.

“That’s alright. I can make some pancakes, waffles, french toast-” You perk up at french toast, your unknowing craving suddenly being solved.

As he makes your meal, you’re still sitting on the counter watching him with many thoughts. You feel a certain fondness for Tangerine. It was something about you letting out your emotions in a nasty way, and instead of hurting you like you thought he would, Tangerine made you another plate full of food and pleaded for you to eat. He didn’t hurt you or berate you or call you names, like your parents would’ve. Not only that, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of his figure.

Luckily, he was turned away from you, now cutting up fresh fruit. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander from his broad shoulders to his forearms to his ringed fingers. Despite this, there was nothing that could make you admit how attractive he was in his white button up shirt and his dress pants. Then you look down at your own attire and feel not only underdressed but gross as well. Even though your pajamas were cute, a short lilac nightgown with lace hemming, you felt it did not compare to Tangerine’s dark blue suit. Pair that with your teary, wet face and stuffy nose after your breakdown, you feel ugly.

You are once again too caught up in your own thoughts to notice Tangerine walking back to you, the feeling of his body sliding between your thighs brings you back to him. His closeness and the smell of him makes you shy.

Tangerine then brings up both of his hands, one has a firm grip on your chin to hold you still, and the other holds a napkin that wipes away your tears with a touch so light you can barely feel it. But it's enough to dry your face. While he’s finishing up, you have the chance to get a closer look at him. Your breath gets caught in your throat when you notice the first few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned, showing just a glimpse of his chest and his gold necklace. The contrast of his masculine look and his gentle actions makes you swallow.

Tangerine notices this and smirks. His hand on your chin drops down to hold your jaw, making the butterflies in your stomach spread all over your body.

“Almost done now, just hold still for me.” Tangerine whispers and wipes your other cheek. You feel a sound bubbling in your throat but you suppress it. Unfortunately, it comes out when he brings his hand down with the napkin and gives you a firm kiss at the corner of your mouth, still with his hand holding your jaw.

It takes everything within you not to bring him back to you and lay a real kiss on his lips, it takes all of your self control not to cry when he puts just a little bit of distance between the two of you.

“Thank you, darling.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tangerine smiles at your quick response before feeding you some french toast. You hum at the sweet taste of the dish and the warm feeling it gives you in your stomach. He gives you another forkful when you feel syrup on the corner of your mouth, but just as you’re about to wipe it away, Tangerine beats you to it. Using his thumb to swipe it away and putting it in his mouth to get rid of the sticky feeling. You shift your eyes away at the scene, your shyness only becoming more apparent.

“Look so pretty right now.” Tangerine says while fiddling with the strap of your nightgown. You feel like you’re about to burst at the feeling of his fingers against your skin, but you want more.

“Thank you.” You mumble when he puts a strawberry slice in your mouth with his fingers.

You’re frustrated. Even though he’s giving you a lot of attention and soft touches, you want more. And even that itself frustrates you even more. You should not want this man's hands anywhere near you. But it’s hard not to when he’s breathing down your neck, feeding you himself, and looking so handsome. This would’ve been a dream come true for you if it weren’t for the circumstances.

You don’t voice any of your thoughts. Instead, you let Tangerine continue feeding you.

It was about a week later after the dinner incident and your punishment. You try not to think about it too much, just remembering how you felt alone in your room made your heart hurt. And as a result, something inside of you changed.

Since that night and the morning after, you had a need and a certain hunger for Tangerine.

You wake up in the morning to his kisses on your skin. It was nothing out of the ordinary. But the past few days were different. Instead of turning your head away or turning your back to him, you let him kiss all over your face down to your neck where he becomes just a bit rougher.

You let out a sigh when you feel one of his hands rub up and down your back, taking away the morning chill. But the goosebumps only come back when you feel him begin to suck on your skin for the first time. The feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin makes you moan and clutch onto his bare shoulders, where you feel his muscles.

The two of you stay like this for who knows how long. You're completely comfortable in Tangerine’s warm arms, feeling blissed out with just him mouthing your neck and touching you all over your body. All you can do is lay down and let him ravish you.

You then hiss when he bites a little too hard, but the pain shoots down to your core, making your eyes flutter open. You weren’t sure when you last felt this way. You didn’t exactly have time before to go out and have fun, especially with men. You’d gone on a few dates and even fewer hookups with guys who really only cared for their pleasure, always leaving you dissatisfied. But you figured that was normal and got used to douchebags. Just the small amount of their attention, even if it was just for the night, was enough for you. Which was why you weren’t fighting Tangerine off of you.

Since that night on the train, he has always given you his undivided attention. And because of your rocky history with men, you felt yourself slowly basking in it. Not only because it had been a while since a man was affectionate with you, but also because Tangerine was clearly focusing on your pleasure. When your fingers clenched his shoulders and a breathy moan escaped your lips, he only provided more of his sucking and kissing.

You feel Tangerine just about to pull away to look at his attack on your neck, but your whine and tightening arms stop his movements. Despite his ability to pass through your arms without having to try, he is easily pulled closer to you.

Once you’ve pulled him back down, the need to plant your mouth on his comes back. The two of you haven’t shared a kiss yet, since you’ve been with him, it has only gone as far as kisses on the face. And it was Tangerine giving those out. You weren’t comfortable enough to give the man the same affection before.

But now, you can’t take your eyes off of him and his pretty lips. Nor can you stop your hands from rubbing his bicep up and down. Your eyes go from his lips to the entirety of his face. The morning light behind him made him look ironically angelic. His hair was curly and unkempt, you couldn’t help but trail your hand up his arm, over his shoulder, up his neck, and finally running your hand over his scalp. You scratched lightly and began twirling a strand of hair around your finger. You were completely captivated by him.

Tangerine’s own eyes began to flutter shut, your touch igniting a fire inside his stomach.

Testing the waters, you stare at his lips above you and slowly lay a small kiss on them.

There was no tongue or open mouths. Just a peck, which left Tangerine having to hold himself back from bruising your lips, in a I-care-for-you-so-much kind of way. He just has so many emotions and wants that have been bottled up since the first time he saw you. But from now on, he needs to let you be the one to call the shots and be in control. Your relationship would go nowhere if he always had complete power over you. The only exception being laying kisses on your face, that is something he can’t help himself with. You’re just too pretty and sweet not to love up on.

The feeling of your lips on Tangerine’s makes your heart stop. So you lay another one, this time staying just a bit longer.

You sigh into his mouth when he begins moving his lips against yours, catching your bottom lip between his own. You hesitantly began moving along with him, parting your mouth slightly and gasping when Tangerine’s tongue slips into your mouth. You open wider for him and let him lick into your mouth, you can’t help letting a few moans out.

Your fingers grip the strands of his hair, tugging him closer, almost painfully, against your mouth when you feel Tangerine sucking on your tongue. You’ve kissed boys before, but never like this. The ones before, you were cautious and careful about how you were kissing, and the guys were messy and slobbery. Everything was very uncoordinated.

But this was something else. Tangerine knew exactly what to do and when to do it. It was also messy, but not in a way where you wanted to pull away and wipe your mouth. You wanted more, you wanted to taste Tangerine more. This time, you didn’t care for what you were doing, only focusing on tasting his lips.

Tangerine then pulls away, just to take another look at you, but not without having to fight you. He tries to lift his head up, but your arms tighten themselves around his neck and you move up with him, desperate not to let him go.

“Let me see you, pretty.” He says in between kisses, finding hard himself to pull away, but you relent. His words go in one ear and out the other, except for “pretty”. That has you pulling him in even more. But unfortunately, Tangerine is way bigger and stronger than you.

With his lips still on yours, he takes one arm and easily removes your hand from his neck and does so with the other, pinning them down above your head on your pillow. Without your grip, he now is able to take a look at you, but not without laying just a few more bruising kisses. Once he finally pulls away, the sight of you has him groaning and he can’t believe how beautiful and already wrecked you looked with just some silly morning kissing.

Your hair is all over the pillows and bushy from his hands, your eyes are half open and begging him to do something, and your mouth is releasing fast pants from your priority to kiss than to breathe. Your chest goes up and down and you look so fucking gorgeous in your little pink nightgown that has ridden up your thigh, just under the spot you both want him to be. He’s in a trance just staring at you, but is soon taken out when he hears your whine and feels you trying to release yourself against his hands. Tangerine, although also wants to continue and go further if you let him, decides he wants to mess and play with you for a bit.

“Awe, is my baby needy?’ He asks and comes close to your lips, just a hair away from touching them. With teary eyes and a pretty pout, you nod up at him. You’ve now been with Tangerine long enough to know that that combination is more than enough to get what you want. You’ve used it on multiple occasions. But Tangerine wills himself not to give in to you.

He coos and gives you a faux pout, “Well, that’s just too bad, darling.”

He goes back to nipping at your neck before placing both of your hands in one of his, taking his free one to lightly grip your neck. The feeling makes you close your eyes and moan loudly. You’ve been wanting his hands around your throat for some time now, since that morning he wiped away your tears in the kitchen.

Tangerine takes his free hand and slides it under your back, pulling you up towards him and making you arch your back. That’s when you feel it, his bulge against your stomach. You gasp when you can feel how big it is as Tangerine begins grinding against your stomach, the size of his cock making you simultaneously nervous and excited. You wonder if it would ever fit inside of you.

You attempt to free yourself from his hand, wanting to touch Tangerine anywhere you could. But he grabs your leg and hikes it around his waist, now rubbing himself onto your core. You let out another moan before Tangerine catches your mouth in a bruising kiss, tongue in your mouth and lapping at your own.

You feel overwhelmed, all your senses feel like they’ve been dialed up to the maximum. All you can hear are Tangerine’s grunts into your mouth, all you feel is hand rubbing your thigh, even with your eyes closed in bliss, all you can see is him. You taste him on your tongue as you lick into his mouth. It’s all so much, so much pleasure all at once, but it’s still not enough.

You let out a high pitched moan when his cock rubs against your clit just right. The only thing between the two of you are your panties and his boxers.

Tangerine finally releases your hands from his and takes his other one off of you, then raises himself up. This allows you to catch your breath for a split second before your being flipped over onto your stomach. Your face suddenly in the sheets when you feel hands on your hips, which raises them up. You attempt to lift your upper body up, but a firm hand on your back pushes you back down.

“Stay there.” Tangerine says, his tone making your stomach flutter and eyes close.

Tangerine hums to himself at your position, ass up and face down. Because of the short length of your nightgown, it has risen up over your ass, allowing Tangerine a very nice view of your floral panties.

You sigh into your pillow when you feel hands on your bum, kneading gently. Then you hear a loud smack and sting on your ass, the feeling making you gasp and rise up on your arms. But your shoved back down just as quickly as you got up, then Tangerine lays two more smacks, making you whine.

“I thought I told you to stay there.”

“M’sorry.” You say, your words muffled into your pillow.

Tangerine hums and thinks for a moment, knowing that this is most likely the first type of sexual experience you’ve had that involved having to control yourself and listen to your partner. He decides he’ll let your disobedience slide, then you and him will have a discussion later about the type of sex you enjoy and what you both want.

The lack of words from Tangerine makes your heart crack, maybe he didn’t hear you?

“I said I’m sorry.” You say once more, not sure exactly what you’re hoping for.

“I know, I heard you. Thank you for apologizing, darling.” He says, then lays a gentle kiss on the small of your back. You squirm under his lips, happy to be on his good side.

“You’re welco-'' You're cut off by your own gasp when you feel a hand cupping your core and single digit rubbing your clit. You begin panting into the pillow and moving your hips to Tangerine’s hand.

“That feel nice?” Tangerine asks, holding back a groan at how desperate you are.

“Uh-huh.” Is all you can say with closed eyes.

You try with all of your effort to stay in your position, you fist your hands in the sheets, trying to find some balance between the pleasure and trying not to get too caught up in it. You’re fearful at what Tangerine will do, but at the same excited about it. But it all becomes too much when he begins to rub you more roughly and at the same time, spanks you again so hard that you yelp into the sheets.

“Alright, that’s quite enough.” Tangerine is quick with his movements as he places a hand on your upper back, right under your neck, and shoves your head back down roughly. He then takes both of your hands and pins them behind your back, and continues to caress your cunt.

“S-sorry!” You gasp wetly, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he begins to rub you quickly, his entire palm practically shaking beneath your cunt. Even with your underwear on, you both can hear just how wet you are. The sound of your wetness and your moans bouncing off of the walls of your room.

Tangerine feels you stop your humping against his palm and sees your body shaking, you’re close. For just a second, he stops rubbing your clothed covered cunt, making you cry out and wiggle your ass, and pulls your underwear to the side. You feel the cool air hit you and are left curious as to what Tangerine is going to do.

You cry out when you feel his fingers against you, teasing your hole as he circles a single finger around it.

“You want my fingers, dove?” Tangerine asks, pressing his finger against your hole. You nod your head against your pillow as much as you can, the angle your neck is at making it difficult.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Can barely put just one of m’fingers in there, unless I shove it in.”

“Please, please, just want one.” You beg into the sheets, your words barely audible.

“What’s that? You don’t want it?” Tangerine smirks and goes back to circling two fingers around your clit. You shriek and shake your head, wiggling your ass in a futile attempt to find any sort of touch.

“No, no, no, I do want it! Pleas-” Your cries are cut off when you feel a large finger slowly enter you, that’s all it takes for you to shake and crumble beneath Tangerine. You groan and arch your back, taking more of Tangerine’s finger. You feel yourself toeing the line of pain and pleasure, his finger feels so fucking good but he really does have to force it in.

“Oh, you’re coming already? But I’ve barely touched you.” Tangerine coos at how easy it was to get your body trembling.

Poor girl, he thinks. You really haven’t been touched in a long while.

He slowly retracts his finger all the way out, before slowly pushing it all the way in, your tightness making his movements slow. You drool into the pillows as your mouth hangs open with no sound coming out. Your orgasm takes everything within you away.

You sob when Tangerine doesn’t stop his movements, not letting you take a single moment to settle down and collect yourself. You try to remove your hands from his grip, then you feel a rain of smacks on your ass and his hand returns to your sopping cunt.

“Please! Ah!” You beg loudly, though you’re not sure what for. For Tangerine to stop? For him to keep going?

Tears soon fall down your cheeks, joining the drool on your pillow. The mess is spread onto your cheek as you scream and shake. You feel your juice slowly drip down your thighs, but you pay no mind to it as you’re quickly brought closer and closer to your second orgasm. You feel the sweat on your neck and on your forehead. You’re a mess, but Tangerine finds you-so far gone in the pleasure- so beautiful.

You groan and tremble again when Tangerine just slightly curls his fingers, hitting that spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll back. But the pleasure soon becomes too much when you feel his thumb circling your ass and you lose the very little control you have. Your hands helplessly trying to grab onto anything you can reach to ground you from the pleasure. Fortunately, Tangerine readjusts his grip on your wrists and lets you hold his hand as you turn your face in the pillow and sob into it, your shoulders shuddering as your juices coat his finger and leak out of your hole.

“Oh, that’s a good girl.”

You think you black out for a moment at his words. The praise sinking deep into your bones and going straight to your core, making you twitch.

“Thank you, thank you-” Is all you can say as you ride out your high, your mind melting away with pleasure.

Tangerine stops his movements, but doesn’t remove his finger. He enjoys the way your small hole clenches onto his finger, almost like you're begging him not to remove it. When he sees that your breath has finally calmed down into hiccups, he slowly takes out his finger, making you whine and arch your back.

He finally lets go of your hands, gently taking both of them and placing them beside you so as to not hurt your arms.

“You’re welcome, my love.” He whispers before leaving a gentle kiss to your wet cheeks, tasting your salty tears. Tangerine puts his hands back on your hips, his touch gentle, and lowers them back on the bed. He then takes off your underwear, tossing them in your hamper where he notices that it’s filled up. He makes a mental note to do your laundry sometime today, maybe after work he thinks. For now, his focus is on putting you back together with a nice bath and a warm breakfast.

Tangerine goes back to you and pulls down your nightgown, covering your bum then patting it softly as he sits next to your tired body.

“Gotta take a bath now, love.” He whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“M’tired.” You yawn and knuckle at your eyes. Just the idea of having to sit up and walk to the bathroom is exhausting, but the sticky mess between your thighs and the wetness on your cheek says otherwise.

“Okay.” Is the only response you get before you feel Tangerine get up and walk away. The sudden disappearance makes your eyes open. You sit up despite your arms and back aching and begging for you to lay back down. You don’t know what to do.

Did he just leave? Where did he go? Is he coming back?

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the faucet of your bath being turned on and the sound of running water.

You lay back down and close your eyes, assuming Tangerine was the one who was taking a shower. Just as you feel yourself about to slip into your slumber, the water finally shuts off and you feel an arm sliding itself under your back and another arm going under your knees.

You make a noise of discomfort, you just want to lay back down.

“I know, I know. But you’ll feel so much better after a bath.” Tangerine says softly, his voice is enough to send you back to slumber.

You open your eyes and see that you’re in the bathroom, and the tub is filled with bubbles. Tangerine bends down with you in his arms to put you down and send you back on your feet, you shiver and wrap your arms around yourself when your feet hit the cold floor. Tangerine sees this and mentally scolds himself for not placing you on one of the bathmats.

“Wasn’t sure which scent you wanted to use since you haven’t used any of those.” He points to a basket filled with many types of bath bombs, all different sizes and colors and fun shapes. Your eyebrows furrow, since when did you have that?

Tangerine smiles at your tilted head and confused face, “they’re in this cupboard,” then he points to one of the cupboards you hadn’t even opened yet.

“Oh, okay. Thank you.”

“I’ll lay out some clothes while you’re in here. And if you want, I would like you to come down and we can eat together.”

“I would like that, Tangerine.”

“Wonderful, I’ll see you soon, love.” Tangerine says, but not without a gentle hand cradling your cheek and a sweet kiss on your lips that leaves you stunned. He quietly leaves the bathroom and shuts the door.

You get that feeling in your stomach when you miss someone as soon as they’re gone, but you remind yourself that you’ll see him again in about thirty minutes, with some good food. You shyly smile at the thought of having breakfast together. Hopefully he’s in one of those moods where he sits you on his lap. You could do it yourself, but knowing he’s the one who wants you that close to him makes you blush.

Before getting into the bath, you decide to explore the bathroom a little more and open the drawers you hadn’t even touched. Despite Tangerine telling you on multiple occasions that “this is your new home” and “you can do as you please here”, the house is still very much new to you. It feels wrong to open every single cabinet and go look through it or go to any room and lounge or take all the food you want from the kitchen. You feel like you have to ask for permission for everything and anything. And up until very recently, your walls are starting to crack.

You open one of the drawers and gasp. Sitting in it are many more bath bombs that immediately fill your nose. Next, you open a cabinet and in it are different types of body washes from brands you’d always wanted. You marvel at all the different pretty bottles and colors and scents.

This continues on with you opening the remainder of the drawers and cabinets, which are all filled with the most delicious smelling lotions, shampoos, conditioners, body scrubs, body oils, and more. By the time you’re done, a good fifteen minutes have passed by and you struggle to pick which product you want to use. In the end, you choose a body wash, lotion, and perfume from the brand Philosophy called fresh cream, the smell reminding you of freshly baked cookies and cakes.

As you get into the bath, you can’t help but feel just a little bit giddy and excited at the thought of Tangerine pulling you close and liking the way you smell. Maybe he’ll kiss my neck and bite me again, you think as you sink into the bubbles and perfectly warmed water.

Your mind starts to wander when your body begins to relax in the water.

Whatever you did with Tangerine was great. Really, really great, you think.

The stuff he did and said to you, you were very surprised you had such a responsive and good reaction to them. No one’s ever treated you that way in bed.

Tangerine was so… assertive and demanding and rough, especially. You liked the way he held and restrained your arms from touching him, it made you have no choice but to take what he was giving you. You liked that you couldn’t pull him closer or push him away, he was making you take the pleasure he was providing you.

And the way he talked to you! The butterflies appear in your stomach at the thought.

The way he gave you orders, and got angry when you didn’t follow through them. It wasn’t on purpose, he was just making you feel so good you couldn’t stay still. But then he really got rough again and restrained you again.

You squeeze your thighs together at the thought of his rough hand on your back and pushing your face in the sheets with a great force.

But it was after all of that is what made you want to run up to him and kiss him again, he was so sweet and gentle, from what you remember. Just like when you first met him. It was all pet names and soft touches and some kisses here and there. Thinking about this reminds you that he’s waiting downstairs for you. You quickly finish washing yourself and get out of the tub.

Following this is your skin care and makeup, which you apply just a little bit of lipstick, spreading it with your fingers to give it more of a natural look. Then finish your lips off with some cherry scented lip gloss. Next, you apply some mascara and blush, and you’re done for now. It’s the same story as the drawers, the amount of makeup is a little much, but you still love it. It’s just going to take some getting used to, having so much in such a small amount of time. You want to take your time exploring and not just dive headfirst into it all.

And lastly, before you get dressed, you apply the sweet lotion on your legs and arms.

When you’re done in the bathroom, you stand in front of your mirror in the outfit Tangerine had laid out for you. A white flowy sundress with a tiny red floral print, paired with a small red cardigan and socks. Although you love the entirety of the outfit, you decide not to wear the cardigan as you want Tangerine to smell as much of the lotion on you as possible.

The final touch to your look is the perfume with the same scent as the lotion and bodywash. And with one last squeeze of your hair with a towel, you’re off downstairs and trying not to appear too eager.

Perfect timing, Tangerine thinks as he’s setting down the last plate of chocolate croissants on the table when he hears your footsteps coming down the stairs. His heart soars when he sees you, freshly showered with wet hair and the cute little dress he layed out for you.

You’re very clearly nervous as you sit down, so much that the amount of your favorite foods right in front of you don’t register in your mind. When you see Tangerine, back in his goddamn suit, you’re reminded of the morning’s events, making you feel self-conscious once again.

Did Tangerine like the dress on you?

Has he noticed your light makeup?

Does he like the way you look?

Is the smell of fresh cream too much?

Tangerine makes his way towards you, frowning at your refusal to look at him and your worried eyes.

You jump when you see the chair next to you move from the corner of your eye, and you're slightly disappointed when Tangerine doesn’t immediately pull you into his lap and wrap his arms around you.

“Fancy some croissants, love?”

You nod your head and look at the table, mouth quickly watering at all the food.

It’s silent for a while after Tangerine fills up your plate and glass with apple juice. You wonder why he’s being so distant, usually he’s feeding you and kissing all over your face. He feels so… far away, despite being right next to you. Your eyes begin to water at the thought of him regretting what he did. You very much enjoyed it and thought he did as well, but you figure now you’re wrong. Then you realize he didn’t even cum. You didn’t do anything for him.

You struggle to finish up your food with a lump in your throat, as well as trying not to breathe too much through your nose because then Tangerine will know you’re close to crying. But you could only pretend for so long.

Tangerine’s head quickly turns to you when he hears the first sniffle, then he puts down his fork when he sees you trembling.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? C’mere.” Tangerine says softly, trying to remain calm at your sudden burst of tears. He takes your hands and gently pulls you towards him off of your chair, some of his nerves going away when you seat yourself on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder.

“I’m s-sorry.” You hiccup. You feel your breath quicken and that feeling in your chest where you know you’re going to start taking uncontrollable deep breaths.

“For what? I don’t underst- here, drink some water.” Tangerine places a glass in front of you and you immediately go for it, closing your eyes and letting the cold water soothe you. Your lips away from the cup and sigh, taking deep breaths to calm yourself. It helps when you feel a hand slowly rubbing circles on your back.

Feeling exhausted again, you lay your head back on Tangerine’s shoulder.

“How are your arms? Do they hurt?” Tangerine asks while massaging your biceps, that’s when he notices how nice you smell. He noses your damp hair and kisses your head.

“No, they’re okay, thank you.” You say quietly and tilt your head, his nose in your hair tickling you.

“Can I see you, please?”

It takes a while for you to muster up the courage to just sit up, your head feeling heavy. Tangerine is quick to hold your cheeks and wipe away your tears, he shakes his head at your sad eyes. Seeing you so upset makes him feel upset too.

“Love,” He pauses, reminding himself to choose his next words very carefully, “I’m a little concerned right now, what’s wrong?” He begins to panic when sees your lip trembling and your head turn away.

“Is it something about this morning?”

You nod your head.

“How do you feel? You didn’t like it?”

“No, I liked it. I just-”

Tangerine’s head perks up, trying not to show how pleased he is with your answer.

“Just what? You can tell me, I won’t be mad, I promise.” Tangerine brushes away the strands of hair that are in your face, he doesn't want any sort of barrier between the two of you. That way there can be no hiding from you and you can clearly see his own face.

You take a deep breath.

“I didn’t make you… you didn’t-” You struggle to say the word, it’s humiliating to admit.

“Oh, that’s alright. Wasn’t really focused on myself to be honest. I just wanted to make you feel nice is all.”

You’re once again stunned at his words. He wasn’t focused on himself and his own pleasure? But instead on you? The thought and gesture makes you look down at your hands, your eyes looking anywhere besides the man right in front of you. You’re afraid you’ll burst if you look at Tangerine any longer.

“Oh, okay. Thank you.” You smile softly as you trace the small flowers on your dress. Tangerine smiles at your bashfulness, it’s so easy to get you so flustered and squirmy. It’s a sight he loves to see.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, love. Should be thanking you, I reckon. I loved seeing you like that.”

“Tangerine, stop it.” You whine and hide your face in his neck, a smile spread wide on your face as you wrap your arms around his neck. Tangerine laughs and pinches your sides, making you yelp.

“C’mon, let me see your face.”

You whine quietly into his neck before slowly removing yourself from your hiding spot, your cheeks on fire and a small pout on your lips.

“Oh, there she is. So pretty today, aren’t you?” Tangerine whispers and strokes your cheek, making them heat up.

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.” You whisper breathlessly and his lips are on yours in an instant, making you moan.

This kiss is different from this morning. It’s slow and deep and all open mouthed. It makes you dizzy, especially when he’s got one arm wrapped tightly around your waist and his other hand has a firm hold on your cheek. He’s not letting you go anytime soon and you’re okay with that. You just want him to keep petting your tongue with his and gently nipping at your bottom lip.

But then he’s pulling away with an unhappy sigh.

“I really hate to go, but I’ve got to get to work now.” As much as he doesn’t want to go, he needs to. He’s already very late thanks to the morning’s activities and breakfast. He knows he’s going to get an earful when he meets with Lemon. But he almost backtracks on his words when he sees your shoulders fall and feels your hands remove themselves from around his neck . The realization that he is leaving makes both of your hearts hurt.

“Oh, okay.” You repeat your words from earlier, but with disappointment. You also look down at your hands again, you don’t want Tangerine to see you like this, so obviously upset. He sighs at you beginning to pull away from him.

“I don’t want to leave you, please believe me.” He whispers in your ear, making you shiver and eventually curl up to him. Tangerine relaxes and starts to lightly scratch your scalp.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight, how’s that sound?”

“That sounds good.” You say as you play with his necklace.

“Wonderful. Let’s start with dinner, what would you like?”

You're quick with your answer. It was one of the first meals he made you during your first week in the house. You remember being angry and annoyed with how delicious it was, and as much as you wanted to throw a fit and not eat it- just to make Tangerine angry- you couldn’t resist it.

“I really liked that one soup you made with the- I forgot what you called it- noky?”

“Oh, gnocchi?” Tangerine smiles.

“Yes, that one. That was really good, I really liked it. You should make it again, please.” You ramble, attempting to forget the awful way you pronounced the dish. But you only dig yourself further into embarrassment, making you sigh and cringe at yourself.

“Thank you, that’s very nice,” Tangerine kisses your cheek and continues, “I’ll stop by the store and pick up some of the ingredients. Anything else?”

You think for a moment.

“I think dessert would be good too.”

“Alright, what will it be?”

“Mochi, th-the ones with the strawberry inside of it.”

“You’ve got it.”

The two of you continue with your conversation, it mostly being Tangerine encouraging you to make the decisions. Such as what the two of you will be doing after dinner, to which you shyly shrugged your shoulders. Anything sounded good, just as long as you were with Tangerine.

After some more sitting in his lap and kisses to your face, Tangerine places you in your empty seat and starts to clean up. But not before asking you to finish your apple juice and little bowl of fruit.

He can’t help but smile at you from across the kitchen when you’re happily sitting in your seat, swinging your legs, and popping grapes into your mouth. He just wants to throw you on the bed and have his way with you again, flipping your dress up and having his own taste of you until you’re begging him to stop.

Next time, he thinks.

#tangerine #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine x reader #tangerine imagine #tangerine blurb #bullet train #bullet train imagine #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson x reader #aaron taylor johnson x fem!reader

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gjenkatarot · 1 year

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reminder: my readings are for entertainment purposes only! take a deep breath and choose a pic that you feel drawn to the most! remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. enjoy!

hello, pile one!

♡ your future spouse is so tough to please! in general, they have a pessimistic outlook on everything that happens to them. there is a possibility that they can suffer from depression as well, but obviously, take what resonates. their life may be filled with regrets and disappointments, always leaving them emotionally unsatisfied. your future spouse has a strong sense of confidence and charisma.

♡ they enjoy being in charge and in control. in addition, they are creative individuals and have many visions/plans for the future.

♡ they are very skilled at what they do on a daily basis. they are excellent multitaskers. due to their intelligence, they are able to impress with words. your future spouse is smart and knowledgeable. their decisions and pieces of advice are always sound. they possess self-control. they may refrain from many things.

♡ there is something very elegant, classy, and clever about your future spouse. they almost remind me of professors, if you know what i mean! they certainly enjoy living in luxury and spoiling themselves with lavish things.

♡ they accomplished a lot! to be honest, i think they might be bored with their lives right now. their love life is not the most exciting thing ever. they prefer to be alone, giving off the vibe of an introvert. do not like being around people! honestly, they give me sexy vibes, so good luck pile one!

hello, pile two!

♡ he or she is very clever, intelligent, and quick-witted! it is common for them to talk a lot and to have strong opinions. competitive as well. there is always something they are doing, and they have an impatient personality. they enjoy communicating with others. your s/o is a fast thinker, a fast talker, and a fast walker.

♡ your person may overthink a lot and suffer from anxiety. there is just no way for their brain to shut off. possibly, insomniacs. they worry a lot, so please take good care of them! they seem like genuine people. your beloved one enjoys life. it is easy for them to get what they want and feel proud of themselves in the end.

♡ there is a certain charm about them. honestly, they sometimes seem arrogant. their dreams are big! they might have expressive faces or be expressive in general. socializing is not a problem for them and they are definitely a party person. they are very affectionate and fun. as i said, they love to party and be the center of attention.

♡ they can be part of large groups or communities. people definitely like your future spouse. they like to have a good time. social butterflies fr.

hello, pile three!

♡ your s/o enjoys learning and is interested in education. they are patient and slow. they like to study a lot though. clearly, this is someone who is disciplined and focused. self-care and appearance are important to them.

♡ practicable people. very down to earth. they are young at heart and loyal. they might be a bit stubborn and refuse to change their opinions or way. your fs may be challenged a lot, causing hardships and stress for them. no matter what they do, they can't find peace. sometimes they feel useless, so they tend to keep themselves busy a lot.

♡ in some cases, they can come across as cold and distant as well! there is a lot of boldness and toughness in your future spouse. they are determined to succeed. a very assertive person who insists on having it their way. it will be difficult for them to back down. they enjoy travelling especially with close ones. moreover, they are brave and controllable.

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bitethedevil · 4 days

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Rambling about Raphael again: I’m getting more and more convinced that stealing from Raphael is an asshole move no matter what.

I just killed Raphael for the first time yesterday. I had gotten the scene where he comes home before but that was way back in my first playthrough and I chickened out back then. The battle itself was awesome, don’t get me wrong but it felt…unsatisfying? Sad even.

I’m obviously not excusing anything he’s done to Hope, but we don’t really know anything about Hope before we have already taken the decision to go to his house.

I found something in the House of Hope that I hadn’t seen before (it’s on the ground in the main area where the fireplace is iirc):

Like yeah, we know that we don’t really need the Orphic Hammer if we’ve played the game before and all that. But does Raphael? It seems like he genuinely thinks it’s a fair trade. Dude lives in the Hells. I’m sure he really does expect the worst from people (especially someone like the Emperor). So he offers us a deal that he really believes is fair, and what do we do? We go robbing his house, fucks/kills his incubus, meddles in his business and essentially spits him in the face. Bonus asshole points if the last thing you ever say to him is that he’s a shit at sex.

Raphael is evil, no doubt, but he hasn’t really done anything to us. If you don’t take the deal, he simply leaves you alone (unless you refuse the Emperor in the end…in which he essentially calls you a dumbass but still helps if I remember correctly) even though that deal is the closest he’s been to the crown in millennia.

Which brings me to his reaction. Obviously, he seems angry right before the fight, but mostly I got the feeling of a man who has been utterly humiliated. His quote that went along the lines of: “Take away their free will and they’ll call you a tyrant. Let them indulge in it and they become tyrants” is kind of stuck with me. I think that Raphael could have potentially treated us a lot worse if he wanted to, but he chose not to (obviously that’s also to get us to trust him, but still). Which is why it stings even more when we fuck him over.

Think about his diary entries. The man has nightmares about us besting him. Imagine how stupid he must feel when that fear turns out to be true and that he shouldn’t have trusted us to keep our word.

#ranting #raphael the cambion #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael

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glamaphonic · 27 days

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But no for real all the "he should've gone to find Daryl/Morgan/had a protracted reunion with XYZ character instead of focusing on his wife and kids!" shit ties back into people's lack of narrative literacy and, underlying it, their lack of theory of mind when it comes to these characters and of course all those nasty implicit biases. They think that what they care about most is necessarily what Rick cares about most.

There are people who refuse to understand or accept how important Michonne and Judith and RJ are to Rick. Of course he loves his extended found family. Of course he cares about his community. But people want to act like those relationships are somehow interchangeable with (or for a lot of these clowns MORE IMPORTANT THAN) those with his wife and children. That has never been the case! For the entirety of this goddamned show, it has never been the case! Andy has outright said it: this entire story, from the moment Rick wakes up in that hospital bed, has been about a man trying to find and protect his family. That is this insane feral motherfucker's central, defining character motivation! You would think if you claim to be a fan of this character and love him so much you would know that!

And it is wildly transparent that for many people they do know that but are pretending this is no longer the case now because they don't consider the family he has made to be legitimate.

They've been "predicting" (read: wishing for) Michonne's death since the day she and Rick got together and she was "ruined" for them because they could no longer mentally sideline her as a Strong Black Woman with no internal life or emotional, physical, or spiritual needs. And the only thing they hate more than Rick having a dark-skinned black woman as a soulmate is him having a black son. Hated it so much they had a whole ass documented conspiracy theory trying to will that baby out of existence. Judith gets a certain amount of grace from a lot of them purely from the virtue of being white, but they still constantly pull out the most vile anti-adoption bullshit about her not REALLY being Rick's (or Michonne's) child too.

So they sat there and watched a six-hour narrative! A lovingly constructed narrative one of the emotional cruxes of which is the fact that Rick was separated from his wife, love of his life, for eight years, missed most of his daughter's life up until now, missed all of his youngest son's life up until now, was made to forgot his eldest son's face, made to forget his wife's face, and this traumatized him so profoundly that he literally wanted to die! This traumatized him so profoundly that when he at last had the opportunity to go back he was paralyzed by fear to the extent that he wanted to continue living an empty ascetic unlife rather than have to face the emotional turmoil of the mere IDEA of losing them all again.

They saw that and went, "Well him getting to be back with them is unsatisfying because it should've ended with him leaving them to go looking for a grown ass man whose closest interpersonal relation already fucking went to find him!"

And not all of them are stupid. They fucking know that there is a difference between one's relationship with their sibling or close friend and their relationship with their spouse. There's a difference between one's relationship with their sibling or close friend and their relationship with their children. And it's not about quantifying the amount of love, it's about the self-evidently different emotional needs and dependencies that exist in these relationships!!

They know it! They just don't want any of that to apply to this spouse and these children and they're mad af that the show unequivocally said that it does.

And to that I say: lol suffer, bitch.

#talmbout #richonne #the ones who live #the ones who live spoilers #fandom nonsense

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skyeventide · 9 months

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taking a stab at the whole valinor trauma rebirth tragedy thing

without getting into the various iterations of mandos throughout its development, the fact that it shares the etymological root with angband (angamando in quenya) or its use as both a prison/punishment place and as the temporary "afterlife" of elves, I think it should be obvious why "mandos cures everything" doesn't work for most people. it's simply narratively unsatisfying. we know that, technically, spirits are solitary in mandos and don't tend to interact with each other, and we know (iirc) that nienna does most of the healing work, when those spirits don't reflect on things by themselves.

healing in complete isolation might work one rare time, but it's otherwise simply not how healing works, how adjusting to a new life works. being way too in your own head is discouraged. healing all your traumas because a goddess did it via magic counseling gives, at best, uncanny vibes, at worst erases the struggle and journey of adjusting, with help, into the life you're actually living. so people either say that spirits can actually meet in mandos and figure things out among themselves, or subvert the narrative and have people come out of mandos either not truly healed or only partially so, and needing the real living feedback of society to exist within it again. a reading which allows mandos to still function as a recovery, but whose achivement is to "prepare" for the journey of spiritual healing, to bring elves back to a stage where they're able to face the circumstances that generated their trauma (aka the living, embodied world, and maybe more precisely even the people involved in it).

this barely touches on the grievances that dead elves might have with the guys who are running this show. this isn't just feanorian followers (or the exiles more at large) who renounced the valar's authority, it can also be the avari, who now either get valinor or they get valinor. it can be the falathrim, who wanted to go to valinor and lost the chance. it can be those sindar who were waiting for a full intervention from valinor, and it didn't come until earendil came around. it's hard to envision healing within a system when the system itself is what you take issue with. it requires a personal compromise, or an acceptance of the system's authority, and that's simply not always possible, nor can fanworks always easily tackle it — which is also why I think fics where living relatives "bully" or like, strongly entreat, the valar into releasing specific elves from death are popular. it's one way of giving that specific problem a solution, though it may in effect be unrealistic. it's less about realism (I for one don't believe the Valar would ever do that) and more about trying to find a way through wanting to see those characters heal without having to bend and accept the system and its authority.

which also brings me to what comes after and the necessary divide, real or perceived, between people who were always in valinor and people who returned to life after conflict.

to put it simply, making sweeping statements about whether amanyar elves can understand the trauma of exiles and other reborn elves is not possible and in itself pretty silly. even the amanyar themselves don't perceive their experiences of trauma and the darkening in the same way! the teleri refuse to set foot in beleriand despite their own kin being there, and despite the fact that noldor and vanyar embark on a valar-sanctioned war. it's pretty obvious that their own internal experiences and cultural understanding of the darkening or of valar authority is still vastly different, that even going by the imprecise and generalising divide of clan, that trauma was processed differently. or not processed at all.

and then, would those who fight the war of wrath understand the trauma of a continent-wide collapse? yeah, surely in a sense they can, they live through it. but can they understand it from the point of view of a sinda who had lived in beleriand all their life and didn't simply come here with the understanding that this was war? who saw their home be destroyed slowly and painfully, and in the end, when the saving arrives, it's a saving with such an immense and heartbreaking price? maybe they can empathise, maybe they can't. the darkening, by the time of the war of wrath, is no viable term of comparison. even among the living, this isn't cookie-cutter.

so what of those who die and return? I think it's obvious, in the text itself, that someone can go through a death, real of metaphorical, return to their old home which has itself gone through some considerable trauma, and realise that no matter if both you and your home have changed, both have bled, you're still unable to readjust to it the way others can. other people who were with you in your journey can integrate, they find old friends and loves who help them in this. you can't. I'm obviously talking about frodo.

it's not the same for everyone and it will never be. and I do feel as though the reading of valinor being in itself unable to take back people who went through trauma is a push-back against the idea that valinor must inherently be blissful, healing, and perfect; but the text presents us many situations where the environment of valinor plants the seeds of dissatisfaction; the fact that it doesn't work as neatly as it seems is at the core of the early conflict in The Silmarillion (even without pointing out stuff like: troubled people, Frodo included, go to the gardens of Lorien in search of that healing and peace of mind that the rest of the land can't actually provide. it's just a land. it's mostly free of toil because there's literal gods providing things, but it's just a land). valinor is not perfect, but its status as blessed realm invites a certain unease in many readers. I believe this unease leads easily to cotradictory and equally extreme positions, ranging from "no one would or should feel out of place after rebirth" to "actually no one would understand the trauma of someone who died and returned".

plus, of course, the obvious: someone's trauma, collective or individual, and how people process it, doesn't somehow erase someone else's and how they process it. the two things can come in conflict with one another, but they're not, like, mutually exclusive.

#The Silmarillion #Valinor #quenta noldorinwa #I will say I haven't seen these takes #everything is a secondhand account for me

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panlight · 1 year

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A few minor tweaks that would have made Twilight a more cohesive story:

Don't kill Victoria in Eclipse; her gift is evasion, if anyone could escape, it's her! Actually, don't kill Laurent either. He dies off screen, it wouldn't really change anything. He can get his original happy ending with Irina.

Make the "Riley" Mike Newton, or Eric Yorkie, or Tyler Crowley. Someone Bella knew, someone local. In the book we don't meet Riley until his death scene so why should we care about him? The horror and tragedy of one of Bella's schoolmates being used and corrupted by Victoria would be much more narratively satisfying, and would give the human kids like, a purpose in the story other than existing to love or be jealous of Bella.

Tempted to do something similar with Bree, but it might be overkill to have two kids from Forks end up in the Seattle newborn army. So EITHER make 'the Riley' someone Bella knew, or 'the Bree' but maybe not both.

If we must stick with the basic Breaking Dawn outline, then Victoria living to the end of the story keeps the flow of the original antagonist. If the "Riley" survives he can be the one to report Renesmee's existence to the Volturi (as he did in Forever Dawn), if not, Victoria can get someone else to do it.

Name drop more of the Breaking Dawn visiting vampires earlier in the series. The only ones we had really heard about before were Peter & Charlotte and the Denali 'cousins.' I don't know about anyone else, but my impression from the first three books were that these were like, the only people willing to put up with the weirdo Cullens. Them suddenly having loads of friends willing to risk their lives for them felt like it came out of nowhere. It was fun to meet Peter & Charlotte and the Denali because we had heard of them before; everyone else felt like they came out of nowhere. Maybe when Bella is getting a tour of the house there can be gifts from other vampires ("is that . . . is that an Ancient Egyptian canopic jar?" "Oh, yes, a gift from Carlisle's friend Amun), or name them specifically in Eclipse when they are trying to find people to help them after the Denali refuse.

Have a few more vamps (other than Garrett) go vegetarian in the end. There's this whole big speech about about how special this diet makes them and then like . . . no follow up at all. Whatever you think of the premise of vegetarian vampires, it's just unsatisfying that it doesn't really go anywhere. The only convert is Garrett, who does it for Kate, not actually because he was inspired by the Cullens or whatever.

Okay this one isn't minor but: JACOB! FIGHT! THE IMPRINT! That seemed to be what his character was set up for. He's the one to champion falling in love the normal way. He's the one who resents choices being taken away from him. Him fighting an imprint and winning seems like a much more natural arc for him than becoming supernaturally obsessed with a half-vampire baby. The shifters and vampires reluctantly working together in Eclipse to protect Forks/La Push was much more interesting than them being forced to because of Jacob's imprint.

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bitethedustfools · 3 months

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TWST Story Idea (4)

Actually, I have no idea what I'm doing. It was supposed to be a theory, and now it's a story idea with probably a bunch of plot holes and nonsense that I came up with at night. But do consider this idea though. It was said that there are 5 greatest mages in the world, with Malleus on the list, and Dire Crowley could probably be in it too. Who knows? How else did he become a headmaster for so long?

Fairy tales change every time they're written and told. Some parts are kept the same, some are not. Some are twisted enough to the point of being called disturbing, and others have their roles reversed, and so on.

It always changes. The words change from book to book and mouth to mouth. Sometimes because the story is a bore, or they wanted to justify the characters' actions, or maybe they simply have forgotten how it goes and made their own story up because they can never let it be forgotten.

Whatever it is, the story is made to fit one's own taste.

Dire Crowley is that kind of person who is unsatisfied with the ending of the stories he comes across. Being a curious bird, he finds it quite strange, vexing even. Why must the good guy win when they have almost nothing? The villains are cunning and stronger even, yet they are defeated by a goody-two-shoes who knows nothing of the world.

Curious, how curious. How could that happen? Logically, the villains should win. It's unfair, like the world is against them. Don't some of the villains come from the same root? So how come they are different?

Crowley wasn't having it. He wanted to know why, and he liked them enough to decide that villains should be heroes too.

And so, he made a story—a story with a certain ending in mind but a hole in between which pages will gradually be filled with time.

He made a world where 7 villains he carefully selected became the most prominent figures in Twisted Wonderland. He wrote the good things he saw in them, and gradually, people admired these figures.

He even made a place for their embodiments so he can watch over and figure out what made them lose. To do this, he made the Royal Sword Academy where the good guys are, the rivals to the villains.

Crowley intended to observe them. They are placed together in a school with 7 dorms. He wanted to see what made them different from the good guys.

It didn't take too long to figure out. Although they are thoroughly competent, they refuse to work together. Each came up with a different plan and proposed the others follow them. The others are of distinguished backgrounds and therefore are too prideful and stubborn to follow.

The story refused to move forward. It stays the same, and nothing changed. They refused to change.

Crowley is upset; this is not the kind of ending he wishes to see. Something must change to move forward, and so Crowley tweaks the story a little bit and begins another story with a twist.

The first Alice, Yuu, gets called over. Yuu is the anomaly in this story. The villains are characters that can't change too much, or else they lack their own identity—the "you are what makes you," if you will. They have to be the same yet different. So Yuu will be the catalyst to move the story forward, the wheels to the cart, and the cogs to the machine.

This Yuu was to be a middleman, smooth things over and let them work together. He was a person of low birth who somehow became a noble. He knew the hardship, and he knew how to connect with people.

The story ended too shortly, sadly. Yuu died. Someone with ill intention killed him, and the others are too indifferent to his death.

Crowley thought that yes, this must be it. This is what sets villains apart from the heroes. It's because they don't care about a single life, and if they do, it is because they lost a good person that benefited them a lot.

Was it because the heroes were kind and good that people would help them? Surely that must be the explanation; otherwise, Snow White wouldn't be able to escape and live due to the hunter and the dwarves, nor would Belle be spared by the beast. Princess Aurora wouldn't wake up if the fairies didn't seek help from Prince Charming.

Because the villains were selfish and indifferent, people don't like them and won't lend a hand. This wouldn't do. Crowley wanted them to be heroes; he wanted to paint the ugly black heart into pure white snow.

The ink dropped on a blank page, and a new story started once again.

Second Alice comes, and Yuu is her name. She is gentle, kind, and her heart is filled with empathy, and she is also willing to voice out her concern. This is good, Crowley thought. This will teach them how to feel, and they also have a rough childhood.

Surely if they are touched by her open heart and kindness, they are willing to change, be kind in return, willing to work together for the same goal.

He watched in interest; they appeared to be enamored with Yuu, who is like a little butterfly fluttering about, only for those wings to rip apart.

"Oh, why are they so cruel?" Crowley lamented. Instead of taking care of it, they'd rather have the wings torn apart. They could not stand the butterfly landing on someone's hands even for a moment.

Crowley called forth another Alice just as the story starts. Again and again and again. He will write the story as many times as he can until the story is to his satisfaction.

He exhausted his magic, and the villains are still doomed to fail by their own flaws and unlucky things. Yuu can only do so much before everything falls apart.

And then the ink splotches on the half-written story, and Overblot came to life. He could not erase their existence. The ink forever stained the pages. Crowley could only roll with it even as new anomalies dubbed Overblot began to pop up. The story hasn't ended yet, and he will only start anew if it stopped.

It was a rather unusual thing to say, but it is the farthest chapters that Crowley has been through. They were nearing the end in every new story with every Alice/Yuu changed.

He lost count of how many Alice/Yuu he has lost and how many villains that slowly changed their way lose their lives to these monsters. No doubt that the perfect story is about to be achieved. The greatest happy ending that the villains deserved is waiting just this close, with a monster blocking the way.

Ink began to drop from his face, dripping onto the already stained book. Crowley too is also nearing his end. His magic is already depleted from using his unique magic and fetching Yuu every time a story starts.

A new story is about to begin, and Crowley stood in front of the Dark Mirror with a white mask. The mask also had ink on it, telling him that the Dark Mirror too had used up their power to summon Yuu.

The next one has to be someone who could survive to the end. Someone who could befriend the villains and show them kindness and recognition they deserved. Someone that can change their ways and improve their perspective of the world no matter how little. Someone to be there by their side until everything.

He reached out to the person whose visage formed on the mirror, urging the person on the other side to take his hand.

"For thee, guided by the Mirror of Darkness,

Follow thy heart and take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror.

Flames that turn even stars into ashes,

Ice that imprisons even time,

Great tree that swallows even the sky,

Don't be afraid of the power of darkness,

Come now, show your power.

Mine, theirs, and yours,

There's only a little time left for us.

Do not let go of that hand, at all costs."

Who would have thought that the new Alice who will guide them all to the perfect ending will be a magicless human who is quite troublesome and reckless in nature?

Every Yuu is different. They are summoned from different world/dimension/time to help aid his story (to influence). All of them have magic. Crowley doubted the last Alice/Yuu (from the game. Depends.) will be the last key to open the final door since they are magicless.

Fits for yandere theme as well. This Yuu is very valuable and the key to happiness. Of course they want Yuu to stay here. Of course Crowley wouldn't let them go.

#disney twst #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland #twst yuu #writing prompt #twst crowley #dire crowley #everyone loves yuu #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst

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yandere-daydreams · 1 year

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Would amnesiac!wanderer be a different type of yandere than scaramouche? Unlike scaramouche who knows what he's clearly doing and doesn't give a shit, it feels like he's more of a blank state who doesn't understand much about humans and the whole loving thing. Like maybe he would see kissing as how humans show their affection and trying it out until his darling turns blue and then realizing that humans actually need to breathe. Or not understanding what personal space or boundaries are, etc.

tw - unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior.

i think it's pretty safe to say that, since he's functionally an entirely different person, the wanderer would be a lot different with his darling than mr. "i'll kill your friends then sulk when you refuse to talk to me" scaramouche. he's hasn't gone through the same betrayals, the same repeated abandonment, but he does have a certain unsatisfiable wanderlust that the original scaramouche doesn't, something that drive him to be more obsessive about his darling than possessive. he's endlessly curious, and he's never truly been close to another living being, not when it's so in his nature to drift from place to place, never lingering long enough to form any lasting connections. so, when you come into his life, sweet and bright and so willing to stay, he gets a little attached, a little too eager to hold you close and force bruising kisses into your lips and stare into your eyes until he's memorized every curve, every line, every scrap of color. he's much more oblivious, too - unlikely to notice when your trepidation's turned to fear, prone to watching you sleep because he's afraid you'll 'wander off' again if he looks away for even a moment. he's clingy, and too trusting, and willing to give you every chance you need to love him back - everything his predecessor isn't. really, he and scaramouche only share one very, very important feature.

neither of them are ever going to let you go.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere scaramouche #yandere x you

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sylvainahyperfixation · 5 months

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Your life is mine. Accept your inheritance, or I will reclaim it.

I'd rather die.

---

you know what i thought was REALLY WEIRD. this has been living rent free in my head ever since my first durge playthrough but. (spoilers ahead) minthara's so on board with you being a slayer and taking bhaal's legacy just because she thinks you should take any power available to you. of course in my playthrough i was like holy shit she would LOVE IT she called me her slayer, we're fucking doing it!!! but as you have that convo with bhaal you come to the slow realization that you'll just be his pawn forever - surely your life is worth more, surely you'd want more than doing some shitty god's bidding forever, father or not...i had a moment where i was like, im sorry minthara but i can't choose this. so i chose to defy him. and of course he kills you, withers shows up blah blah.

but.

we KNOW from minthara's characterization (for example in her ending with karlach) she doesn't want her love to die and she would rather jump headfirst into hell to fight against it. she'll never accept it or understand it. i just refuse to believe that if she knew what the consequences were for going down this path (the ending is quite linear and it's canonically Bad) she'd advise you to take the power.

but that's not really even what i was unsatisfied with - let's just say regardless of reasoning it all does happen the way it happened in my playthrough - there's no scene where she (or any other companion you're romancing as durge for that matter from what i've read online) actually reacts to the fact that you DIED. if withers wasnt a bro you'd be permadead. okay, no cutscene? maybe we can have some durge romance specific dialogue...? nope.

anyways larian PLEASE i know she'd be devastated i just want to hear her say no power is worth losing you /sob

#bg3 #minthara #durge #art dump #i know it wasnt all that bloody when he just snaps your entire body #but there's no way you didnt just like internally explode somehow

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0v3rcast · 11 months

Text

Departure

You can give no more than you have already. You leave.

(Abandoning a relationship, for your own sake. Angst.)

(Content warnings: I dunno, it's just sad? Mentions of a failing relationship?)

Three bags of your belongings sit at your feet.

In the largest bag are your clothes. Not the clothes they'd given you or any of their clothes that you'd claimed - they are your clothes, both from before the relationship and that you'd purchased for yourself, as well as several sets of traveling clothing that you'd purchased a piece at a time in the past months.

In the second largest bag are your toiletries. Soaps for your skin and hair, a toothbrush and toothpaste, fine-toothed combs, several ornamental hairpins that had belonged to a relative, a small lint roller, and small bottles of both perfumes and colognes.

In the third bag are personal possessions. Mora, photos, a music box you'd been given as a young child, a favorite painting you'd removed from the frame and gently rolled up.

You take nothing of theirs. Nothing they'd given you. Nothing you'd found shared meaning in as a couple.

The weapon you'd learned to master rests against your leg from where you sit at the kitchen table a final time.

On the table lie the supplies you'll require to outline your grievances. Word of mouth does not carry the same hollow permanence as a written message.

It takes you some time to gather all of the scattered emotions in your chest into a tight, controlled ball.

Ink meets paper, pooling for a single solitary moment, and you begin to write.

'To my beloved:

I am sorry, but I can't do this any longer, and I suspect from your lateness and distance in recent months that neither can you.

At the beginning of our relationship, you were the only person I could see - no other living being on Teyvat had the same attractive nature you did. You were everything to me, and in some ways, you still are.

I have tried to sustain this crumbling connection we share, to preserve the magnetism that bound us so tightly. Every morning, if you are even still there when I wake, I do not recognize the person I see.

My concerns for your health seem to go unnoticed. When I make you a meal, you've either already eaten or are too tired to sit with me.

When I plead with you to rest, you refuse to, even though I can see the exhaustion in your eyes.

My presence seems to irritate you. Our conversations tend to either devolve into fights or slowly go quiet.

You feel as cold as your side of the bed we used to share.

When I ask you to join me on my trips to enjoy a night with others or to visit a restaurant, you are unavailable due to work or simply have no interest in the journey.

I know you have not been finishing what I make you. I have found the meals in the trash, often with very little having been eaten.

You have given me gifts in recent weeks. Trophies of your victories, symbols of your status, proof of your work. Once upon a time, I would have lovingly collected them and placed them in our home in such a way that all who visited would see them, would know my pride and love for you.

They are no replacement for your presence in my life. You cannot expect them to be an acceptable substitute for all the little moments we no longer spend together.

But I suppose I should thank you, as well. The argument we had last week has given me much to think on, including myself.

Your behavior leads me to a single conclusion: the fault lies with me.

Was I not enough?

Did my actions push you away?

Was it something I said?

...is there another, one who can take care of you the way I cannot?

Am I so thoroughly unsatisfying?

The answer doesn't particularly matter anymore.

I wish to ask for one final favor. You may reject it, but for both our sakes I hope you will humor it.

Find another. Move on. Heal from this. Live a life you will not regret. I will do the same.

Perhaps in another life, this would never have come to pass. But here it has.

I doubt we will meet again.

Thank you for everything. Thank you for pretending. Thank you for being here long enough to make me feel special.

Beneath this note you will find two stacks of documents. The first are a collection of every expenditure I have incurred during our relationship, in the form of invoices, receipts, and bills, itemized from most to least expensive.

The second stack are records of withdrawals from my private funds for the purpose of repayment, with signed affidavits from bank managers to confirm that I have done this of my own free will and through legally-accepted channels.

I cannot give you back your time. All I can do is return the money.

When you read this, I will be gone. The world is too vast to stay and fester miserably in the absence of you.

This is goodbye, both as a person and as your partner. I do not do this to hurt you, but to spare us both more misery.

I want you to be happier.

I love you.'

You gently lay the letter down, pack away your writing tools, and tuck them into the third bag.

The front door shuts behind you with a sense of finality, and your shadow slowly follows you in the afternoon light.

You leave the place you once thought of as a home with no outward expression of the grief and sorrow oozing inside of you like wicked poison.

Those who question your sudden departure are simply told you are going to visit family, but otherwise you say as little as possible.

When they come home, the stars now twinkling in the night sky, they find the note.

As you said, you are gone. You crept over the horizon with the sunset hours ago.

And the weight of your absence slowly begins to settle on their chest.

#reader has a terrible time #genshin impact x reader #breakup fic #genshin angst #i think im good at writing angst #i may in fact be deluded

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jhilsara · 2 months

Text

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Chapter 11

Everything’s too cold, freezing almost, then it’s just as quickly too hot. She’s been rolling around in her bed for hours, trying to sleep but nothings working.

She looks over at her phone to check the time, it’s only ten at night but she’s been awake since four in the morning and she’s desperate to sleep. She’s tried everything, pills, tea, warm milk, nothing works. Nothing gives her the relief her mind needs.

She’s so frustrated she’s about to cry. She crawls out of her bed and shuffles into the living room. She’s in a hoodie and carries her big blanket with her. If she can’t sleep she might as well try to watch something and hope she passes out that way.

She makes a nest on the couch and tries to ignore the pounding in her head.

She’s sick, really sick. She’s running a fever and her body is aching in places she didn’t even know could be sore. She can’t remember the last time she was this ill… probably in university.

She’s practically begging her own body to just go to sleep.

The tv is playing lowly in the background but she’s not paying attention. She can’t look at it too long or her head starts swimming and she gets nauseous.

She’s already spent one night profusely puking, she didn’t need to do it again.

Her eyes are closed but she’s not asleep. Just resting to the best that she can.

Knock knock knock knock

She looks up groggily and sees Hobie at her balcony holding a small bag.

She motions that it’s open, refusing to get up. It’s a miracle her legs let her shuffle to the couch.

He gives a smile and let’s himself in, kicking off his boots. He walks over to her, leaning down to get better look, “Wow,” He whistles lowly, “You are sick.” He says reaching his hand out to check her forehead.

“I’m probably contagious, you should go home.” She slurs her words and squeezes her eyes shut again. She hasn’t heard her voice all day, it’s thick with congestion.

“Pfft. Not worried. I am worried bout you.” He says softly pulling some items out from his bag.

He sets a small prescription bottle down as well as some Pedialyte. He opens the medication and shakes out two pills for her to take. Making her sit up for it.

She groans as he helps her sit up. He holds his hands out for her and she dramatically grabs them as he pulls her up. He hands the medicine to her and she takes the pills happily.

“Where did you get these?” she asks as he presses the Pedialyte bottle into her hands.

He shrugs nonchalantly, “Know a few people in the pharmacy who owe Spider-Man a favor or two.” He says smugly.

“Now drink.” He tells her, “Know you’re dehydrated. You probably haven’t drunk anything all day.”

She drinks the beverage slowly, when she sets it down she gives him an unsatisfied look. “I had tea today…” She murmurs quietly.

“Ya only had the one cup didn’t ya?” he accuses raising a brow.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to drinking the Pedialyte. The silence answering his question.

“That’s what I thought. Scoot over.” He demands pushing his way onto the couch.

“What no!” She tries to stop him, her voice cracking and rough. “You’ll get sick!” she chastises.

“Don’t care.” He says and helps her readjust.

He lifts the blanket off of her and moves so she’s laying with her head in his lap. He gently covers her again and let’s her move so she’s comfortable.

She’s facing him, eyes closed, one arm wrapped around his thighs using them like a pillow. He gently runs his hand through her hair trying to get her to settle. She hums in contentment.

“Look tired…did you sleep?” he asks softly.

She shakes her head no, “Can’t, I’m miserable.” She whines with a yawn.

He rubs her shoulder reassuringly, “The meds should help.” He whispers, still lightly stroking her hair.

She opens her eyes to look up at him, eyes locking. She’s comfortable, more so than she’s been all day. Every touch has her relaxing even more, almost melting. He’s looking at her in that way that makes her stomach turn and flip. His gaze intense as he looks over her.

His gaze used to make her nervous, like he was searching for something she wasn’t willing to give… Not so much anymore. It’s a comfort, she didn’t know when that changed.

It’s nice to know if she looks out to find him in a crowd, his eyes are already on her. They’ve been looking for her since he played in the pub.

She doesn’t know when, but she does fall asleep on Hobie’s lap. She has fever induced dreams of webs, music, bright colors, and him.

It’s the best sleep she’s gotten in months.

When she stirs awake, it’s early morning light filtering in that wakes her. She’s still on the couch and she’s laying on a very solid form.

She makes a small noise as she rubs the sleep from her eyes and when she blinks through her blurry vision, she sees that she’s on top of Hobie’s very solid chest.

Her face burns as she looks up, he’s still asleep, head thrown back with small snores filtering through.

She breathes a sigh of relief, but finds her heart still racing as she looks up at him.

She almost laughs from how silly he looks, his mouth open as he sleeps, his hands lazily wrapped around her body.

She smiles warmly up at him, and lays her head back down. She wraps her own arms around him and nuzzles her face into his chest. She can hear his heartbeat. It slow and methodic as he continues to sleep. She wonders if his heart beats erratically like hers when they're together.

She finds herself wanting to hear that, wanting the confirmation that he’s just as flustered by her.

Her face warms up at that idea and she tries to go back to sleep, but she’s wide awake now.

She also notices how her body is achy again and that she’s still very congested. She doesn’t want to get up, but she knows she needs to take the medicine and probably drink some water. She groans to herself not wanting to move.

His hand moves up to rub her back comfortingly, “Mornin’…” He mumbles, voice thick with sleep and leans down to press a kiss into her hair.

She adjusts to look back up at him, “Morning, I didn’t know you were stayin’ here.” She says, voice still stuffy and low.

He just grins lazily at her, “Can’t leave ya alone after you finally fell asleep.” His smile turns to a smug smirk, “Ya started cuddlin’ and I couldn’t pass that up.”

She shoves her face into his chest slightly embarrassed, “Not my fault you’re comfortable…” she mumbles.

He just chuckles and tightens his hold on her. She feels his chest rise and shake but she also hears his heart beat quicken. She smiles to herself.

“I need to take those meds again.” She says going to sit up, she doesn’t want to move but she needs to.

“Stay here, I got it yeah?” He tells her. He moves to sit up with her in his lap, as he leans over to grab the pills off the table.

His one arm is wrapped lazily around her but presses her into him. She leans her head into the crook between his shoulder and neck.

“You’re seriously gonna get sick…” she mutters to him as he presses the medicine into her palm and holds the Pedialyte bottle.

“S’fine.” He mutters watching her take the medicine. “Just means you can take care of me when I inevitably get ill.” He grins at her.

She sighs in response and finishes the drink. “I don’t know if I’m this good of a nursemaid like you are.” She says playfully.

He pulls her back down to lay on the couch again, pulling the covers over them, “Sure ya are. You patch me up constantly.” He says softly wrapping his arms around her waist holding her close to him.

She keeps her hands pressed against his chest and nods her head. “Mmm you’re not wrong. You do end up injured pretty frequently.” She says with small concern.

“Oi, oi, oi, don’t say it like that! I’ve not been too beaten up when ya see me!” he complains playfully.

She gives him an accusing look. “You bled out next to my door waiting for me once Hobie…” She reminds him.

“One time. Just the one.” He gives a bright grin. “I didn’t know you the time I literally almost died, had to give myself stitches!” he tells her.

Her face sours, “Don’t tell me that, I worry about you enough…” she whispers.

He scoffs, “Don’t worry about me, promise. I can handle myself, been doing this a while.” He tells her tracing circles into her back with feather light touches.

“Seriously Hobie, I worry about you.” She moves her arms to circle him, hugging him. “I know what you do is important, and I love that you protect everyone… I just want to make sure you’re safe too.” She whispers looking at him.

His brown eyes pierce hers, really looking her over. He gives a soft sigh of resignation. “Fine ya win, ya win.” He shoves his face into her hair hugging her tightly to him, “Just stop lookin’ at me like that…” he mutters.

“Like what?” She replies hugging him just as tightly.

“You know like what, using those big doe eyes on me. Isn’t fair...” His voice muffled.

She laughs at him, “Hobie what are you talking about?”

He pulls back and raises a brow at her, “You know you do it! That thing with those big eyes of yours, lookin’ at me like it’s the last time you’ll see me or something.” He scoffs pulling her close.

“M’not going anywhere…” he whispers.

She hears his heartbeat again, pressed so close to him, it’s beating wildly.

Her eyes soften and she moves to sit up, she runs one hand up to caress his cheek, her thumb brushing his cheekbone.

“Better keep your promise then.” She tells him, voice soft.

He moves a hand to grip the one she has on his face, he looks at her intensely, “Not going anywhere.” He repeats.

“Good.” She replies and settles back down laying with him.

He runs his hand lazily up and down her back, lulling her back to sleep, but she’s okay with that. He’ll be here when she wakes up.

And the next day after that.

And the next.

She falls asleep listening to his heart.

Tag List: @missshelleyduvall

(If you'd like to be added to the tag list please message me. c: )

#hobie brown #hobie brown x oc #hobie brown x reader #hobie x reader #hobie x oc #hobie atsv #hobie fanart #spiderman atsv #spiderman fanfiction #spiderpunk #spiderman #mary jane watson #mj oc #my art

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