#( sorry nothing sexy with this one just trauma

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

a darling and a virgin | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you are a victor from district four, having just ended your first victory tour. after being confronted by president snow, you have no choice but to lose your virginity. luckily, your previous mentor is willing to provide some guidance.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: mentions of forced prostitution, angst, gentle smut, loss of virginity, fingering, lots of consent, praise, happy but also unhappy ending??, reader takes contraceptives.

notes: i’ve recently found that i’m incapable of writing short smut one shots so… i’m sorry y’all. love describing every detail too much.

word count: 6.8k

Your hands were clasped over the balcony railing of the penthouse you were spending the night in, the vibrant artificial lights of the Capitol burning your retinas as you overlooked the city. You had finally completed your first Victory Tour and were offered one more night in the Capitol to enjoy its ‘luxury’ and ‘generosity’ before returning to District Four in the morning.

For the past two weeks, you had read fabricated speeches to each District, resurfacing both your trauma from the Games and the families of the tributes you had murdered in the arena. The toll it was taking on you was heavy, but you managed to put on a splitting grin for every interview, speech, and disturbing congratulation. But not for your previous mentor, Finnick Odair.

Finnick had been there for you through the whole nightmare, even during the week before your Games. His support was unwavering which was one of the many reasons you had managed to survive from the moment you were Reaped to the end of the Tour. It was hard to tell when his mentorship had turned into something more complicated, but it had. It had become more about feelings than simply survival. Not a relationship per se, but not just a friendship either. You teetered on the line between the two, never crossing it and never discussing the fact that you were both aware of it either.

For six whole months.

When the final destination of the Tour came—the grand celebration at President Snow’s mansion—Finnick had told you it was the easiest part. All you had to do was manage a happy face, mingle with obnoxious Capitol citizens, and eat an abhorrent amount of food. He would have been right if you were a different person. If President Snow hadn’t demanded your singular presence at the end of the night.

You exhaled a shaky breath, watching the white mist drift into the light-polluted sky. The President’s words bounced around your head: Desirable… Customers... Family. The conversation played on a loop in your mind. You could remember the repugnant smell of roses, the overwhelming whiteness in the room, and the way his too-pleasant face lit up as fireworks exploded outside the window.

Shivers trickled down your spine, forming goosebumps that were borderline painful. The fact that you were on the ninetieth floor and wearing flimsy pyjama shorts and a thin long-sleeve shirt wasn’t helping either. The crisp wind blew against your body, but you had no intentions of moving to seek warmth. It felt appropriate to stay in the cold when your body would soon know nothing but unwelcome heat.

So lost in your spiralling thoughts, you failed to notice as another body silently took up space beside yours, warming up the side of your arm. This heat was welcome.

“Pretty cold out here.”

A startled gasp escaped your mouth. You straightened up and turned to the owner of the voice, only to find Finnick leaning against the railing, forearms over the edge the same as you.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “I know my presence can be a little breathtaking sometimes. Nice shorts by the way.”

He turned his head turned to you, revealing his infamous flirtatious smirk. The dimples in his cheeks were prominent and charming. His bronze hair was perfectly dishevelled as usual, as if someone had purposefully placed each strand to give him the ‘sexy bed hair’ look. He was still wearing his white button-up and black trousers; the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons were undone, revealing his toned chest. The outfit had been accessorised with a metallic golden corset-like belt among other decorations that made him fit in with the Capitol crowd, but he must have taken them off. Now the outfit sort of resembled one that a boy would wear to a Reaping. Simple yet formal. Still gorgeous, not that he needed reminding.

Normally, you would retort with a snarky remark or, on the off occasion, flirt back, but instead, you resumed your previous position over the railings. You weren’t immune to Finnick’s charms; you praised anyone who was. You would usually be internally swooning at the sight of him, especially with the way he looked right now and his obvious flirting. But this night was much different. Flirting and swooning were at the back of your mind. All you could think about was your interaction with the president; the way his guards manhandled and escorted you to his study. The conversation that destroyed your hopes of a peaceful future.

Desirable. One word that sent ice coursing through your veins. Or snow, to be more poetic.

“I don’t think you’ve said a word since we got back,” said Finnick, still a hint of playfulness in his tone. He watched your gaze—eyes distant though not really seeing. It was clear something was wrong, so he continued, this time more softly. “You were gone during the fireworks.”

You remained unmoving, staring straight ahead at the city. Only when he uttered your name did he finally gain your attention. As you turned your head to face him, tears began to well up in your eyes.

Finnick noticed the silent distress in your expression and straightened up his stance. He towered over you, brows knitted together whilst his sea-green eyes flickered across your face, looking as if pieces were slowly falling together in his mind.

“He spoke with you, didn’t he?” he said. “Snow.”

To answer his question for you, a tear escaped your eye, but you were quick to swipe it away with a sniffle.

Your arms wound around your torso, hugging yourself as the words began flowing. “After I won my Games, when I was being crowned, he said something to me that I didn’t really understand." Your voice was gentle, just above a mere whisper. “Months passed and I’d forgotten all about it. Until now at least. He told me…” You swallowed the ache in your throat. “He told me, ‘I have big plans for you, Miss (L/N). I think you will be a very valuable asset to the Capitol citizens.’”

Finnick’s face had melted into an unreadable expression. His entire body turned to stone; it was like he was a marble statue portraying a Greek God. All of a sudden, he was sixteen again. He was in Snow’s study, being told that if he didn’t cooperate and essentially sell himself to the Capitol, his family would pay the price. And they did.

With a sad smile, you whispered, “I know what he meant now.”

Something inside him snapped and he broke from his stupor.

“No.” He vigorously shook his head. “He can’t do that. You can’t. I’ll go to him and—fuck!” His hand ran through his hair, making it even more dishevelled. The bright lights from the city were reflecting off his eyes, revealing the shine that was starting to gloss over them. “I can fix this for you, I swear I’ll—"

“Finnick.”

“He’s a fucking—”

“Finnick.” The plea in your voice ceased his panicked movements. He just stood there, looking completely and utterly helpless. You both did. Another tear slipped down your cheek as you stared at him, your voice wavering as you asked, “Can you hold me?”

He let out a breath as if the air had been knocked from his lungs and in one fell swoop, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms. Silent tears began to flow more heavily, saturating his white shirt which he held you tightly against. There was a hand wrapped protectively around your lower back and another stroking the hair flowing over your neck.

You were certain Finnick let a few tears slip too because you could feel the cold breeze nip at the top of your head the slightest bit more. He mumbled the words “I’m so sorry” over and over into your hair but you just shook your head. You told him it wasn’t his fault, but he wouldn’t accept it. He had told you months ago about his arrangement with Snow. You couldn’t have imagined what it was like for him then, but you would be able to now. You would know every single little detail.

His embrace tightened as you turned your head and pressed your ear to his thumping chest.

The tears had stopped, and you managed to find your voice again. “Snow threatened to kill my family. What if the customers don’t think I’m good enough and he takes it out on them? I mean, I don’t have any experience.”

You remained silent, awaiting his response. When the hand stroking your hair halted, you realised your mistake. You realised what you had just admitted to him and mentally kicked yourself. Repeatedly.

Finnick moved both hands onto your forearms, gently pushing you away from him to get a clear view of your face. The surprise in his expression was enough to make you want to jump over the balcony ledge in embarrassment.

“You’re a virgin?”

Hearing the words out loud would have sent you over the edge—literally—if Finnick’s large hands weren’t wrapped around your arms. You tried to turn away from him, but his grip was unshakeable. Your eyes began to water again, and you felt pathetic.

“Hey,” he said tenderly as he tried to regain your eye contact. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Your distraught red-rimmed eyes snapped back to him. “Not a bad thing? Of course it’s a bad thing, Finnick! I have to give my body to a stranger despite never even having my first kiss! Let alone sex!” As you said the words, the full reality of your situation began to set in. Panic turned to sadness as you realised yet again, the Capitol was taking another innocence you thought was your own to give away. You looked down, your tone becoming quieter. “I thought my first time would be special. Or at least with someone I loved.”

God, you felt so embarrassed admitting that to him. Sure, a lot of your conversations were flirty and full of sensual banter. Sex, however, was not a topic that came up very frequently. You would never want to accidentally cross a line with Finnick, especially given what Snow forced upon him. So you liked to avoid the subject as much as possible. Now, it was inescapable.

He released his grip and sighed heavily, looking out toward the view as if he were deep in thought. The vivid city lights cast an unnatural hue on his usually golden-tanned skin; even now the Capitol was changing him into something he wasn’t. His eyes shut for a quick second before he reopened them and looked back at you. The only time he had looked this serious was the morning of your Games and the night you returned. It was a little intimidating.

His jaw ticked and his gaze bore down into your own. “Sweetheart, I’m going to ask you something,” he began, “and I want you to know you do not have to say ‘yes’ if you don’t want to, okay?”

Alright, now he was really starting to scare you.

“Okay,” you said warily.

The hardness on his face remained for a moment longer, but then his expression softened and became the most vulnerable you had ever seen.

His voice was gentle. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

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

You were sat on the edge of Finnick’s bed, toying with the black satin sheets with a frown. Your room didn’t get satin sheets. It was probably one of the benefits of being the Capitol Darling. Not that you envied him very much. He would probably be content with sleeping on a dirt floor if it meant he got his autonomy back.

Finnick was in the bathroom doing God knows what. You weren’t sure if he was trying to make himself more presentable or hyping himself up to have sex with you. The latter worried you. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into something he didn’t want to do. Then again, he was the one who asked.

After you had told him “Yes, please”, he had tentatively but oh-so-gently taken your hand in his and guided you inside and to his room. Neither of you had spoken along the way; you just walked in silence toward something that would either ruin or deepen your relationship. Despite being two victors, this was still a mentor making sure his tribute stayed alive.

You heard the bathroom door slide open and looked up to see Finnick standing outside the door. Shirtless, pants still on, and towel in hand. It took everything in you to not stare at his perfectly sculptured torso, his equally toned arms, or his broad and muscular shoulders. Instead, your eyes met his for a split second before you returned to the satin sheets.

Blood rushed to your head and everything felt too real. Finnick Odair was standing before you, looking like an angel and willing to fu—

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” he chuckled.

But your gaze remained on the bed.

“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.’” He spread the towel on the bed, positioning it in the middle. Then he stopped his movements as he realised what you meant. “It’s not like that. I’m not being forced to do this. I want to.”

Your head snapped up and your heart leapt as those three words left his lips—I want to. For a second, you believed him, but then reasoning came to deflate your hopefulness.

“You wouldn’t want to if I weren’t in this situation.”

He let go of the towel, sitting down mere inches beside you, his eyes amused despite the solemn context. “And how do you know that?”

“Because…” you trailed off, searching your brain for an explanation only to find none. “Because.”

He smirked. “We need to work on your argumentative skills, sweetheart.”

A small smile worked its way across your lips. He returned it with a comforting smile of his own, though the sense of playfulness never left. It never really did and that was one of the things you admired most about him. Even in the darkest of situations, he was able to provide some light.

Rosy heat crept into your cheeks and you were forced to break eye contact again. Hiding how much he affected you was pointless now; if this was going to work out, you needed to be vulnerable with him. With each other. You looked down at the space between your bodies. His hand was resting on the bed beside him and soon enough, it was slowly creeping across the sheets over to your own. He gently brushed his fingers across your knuckles before sliding his hand beneath your palm and interlocking it with yours. You couldn’t help but notice how small your hand looked compared to his, feeling butterflies flutter around your stomach at the small observation.

The both of you silently watched your intertwined hands. That is until Finnick decided to speak up.

“I would,” he said ambiguously, caressing the side of your hand with his thumb. “I would still want to. Even in different circumstances.”

The blush on your face reddened even more; your cheeks were on fire at this point. Even in different circumstances. Was that his way of confessing… that he did have feelings for you? It wasn’t exactly explicit, but it was certainly implied. Oh god, you didn’t know what to think.

You didn’t bother to reply; words probably would have failed you anyway. You just gave his hand a slight squeeze in acknowledgement—well, it was more in appreciation. It was obvious how hard he was trying to make you feel comfortable, but no matter how hard he tried, you couldn’t shake the nerves that were rattling your entire being.

Sex was a pretty big milestone—to you, at least—and here you were, on the precipice with someone you trusted with your life. Did you love Finnick? You weren’t sure. What you did know was that your feelings for him were deep, and even though neither of you had ever clearly confessed to each other, you knew he felt something for you too. Which made everything all the more daunting.

“Are you nervous?” he asked softly.

You nodded.

“We still don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head, lifting your gaze to his. “No, I—”

His eyebrows pulled inwards, awaiting your answer. His eyes were so inviting and full of understanding, if you hadn’t lost the ability to form full sentences, you would have found yourself spilling all your secrets to him. He was so patient with you. So good. You had to rethink your uncertainty about loving him.

“I…” you tried again. Your eyes flickered back and forth from his sea-green eyes to his soft, pink lips. As shameful as it felt to admit, you had imagined what it would feel like to have his lips on yours many times before. Usually right before you went to sleep. Never would you have thought the day would come when it would actually happen.

He was still caressing the side of your palm, silently reassuring you, encouraging you to communicate with him. You sighed, closing your eyes. If he wanted you to communicate, then you would.

“Finnick,” you whispered. “Kiss me.”

Your words drifted into the air, stilling everything in the room—the air, Finnick’s hand. Your heart. He just stared at you, unblinking, unmoving, like someone had hit pause on the television at the tensest moment. The tension was tearing you apart and you almost got up and left the room. But you didn’t. Because suddenly, the sides of your face were cupped by large hands and his lips were on yours.

Finnick Odair was kissing you.

His lips pressed against yours once more in one long close-mouthed kiss before leaving again. Shock came and left within seconds and you found the courage to copy his actions. Your lips locked perfectly onto his, remaining still, enjoying the pressure and tingly warmth of simply having them connected. Then your lips moved to kiss him again. And again, and again until soon enough, his tongue had slyly slid into your mouth and you had somehow instantaneously become a master at French kissing.

This kiss felt familiar, despite it being your first. Like something you had done millions of times before, but only with him. Like having his lips on yours was the most natural thing to ever exist.

A hand moved onto your waist and suddenly you were being pulled onto his lap, legs straddling his lap. Your hands fell on his chest, mindlessly wandering and feeling the toned muscles ripple underneath your palms as he pulled you closer by the neck to deepen the kiss. Damn the people of the Capitol, but they were right to say he was an incredible kisser.

“Finn,” you huffed in between kisses, “have you got a rock in your pants?”

He pecked your lips once more with a smirk, resting his forehead against yours as you both attempted to catch your breaths. “No,” he chuckled. “I’ve just got a beautiful girl on my lap.”

Your eyes opened to see him grinning at you with mischief. Oh.

“Is that okay?” he asked.

You nodded jerkily. “Ye—Yes, that’s okay.”

“Okay, good.”

Biting your lip, you looked down between your bodies. Curiously, you rocked your hips along the length of his lap once, earning a quiet grunt from him.

He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Careful,” his voice was low, tempting.

And of course, in full defiance, you did it again. His warning was a bluff. He made no real action to prevent you from grinding any further on his erection, so you kept moving, and he kept revealing how good it made him feel. The thin fabric of your shorts created a little barrier between his hard lap and the growing sensitivity between your thighs.

Meanwhile, you found yourself never wanting to be parted from Finnick’s lips. With every rock of your hips, your hands ran over every inch of his upper body, eventually settling in his hair. The way he kissed reminded you of stories of District Twelve. A district full of hunger and desperation. Only what Finnick was craving wasn’t the fullness of food in his stomach, but the desire to devour you whole. To ravage you. And by God, would you give anything to satiate him.

Forget what you thought before. This wasn’t just a victor keeping his tribute alive. As clear as the sea on a sunny day, this was a man giving himself over to a woman he loved. You. Finnick loved you.

When you pulled back to tentatively lift your shirt over your head, his eyes stayed on yours. Your breasts were literally bare and he just continued to scan the features of your face. However, you did notice the subtle shift in his breathing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, stroking the side of your breast.

A shy, cheek-warming smile crept on your face and then suddenly, Finnick was rolling you over. Your head fell back onto the soft silk pillows, Finnick hovering above you. This position remained for a long while, the time spent simply kissing each other, alternating between deep tongue-filled kisses and soft sweet pecks. There were moments when you both stopped to flirt or giggle. These were the times you entirely forgot the whole reason you were doing this in the first place.

It was just you and Finnick. Two new lovers in a perfect world.

After a while, your lips had swollen with warm, passionate heat. You were flushed and you didn’t even need to look to know your hair was already a tangled mess. But you didn’t care.

One of Finnick’s hands had begun to wander down your stomach, breaking the established pattern of merely making out. You knew what was coming and surprisingly, you weren’t afraid. Unlike outside the penthouse apartment, there was no danger. Not in this room, in this bed, or in the hands that caressed you. He grazed across the skin beneath your belly button, causing your body to flinch up into his.

Of course, he smirked at that—the smug asshole.

He returned to your lips before lowering down to your neck and sucking soft, red marks into your fragile skin. His fingers found the edge of your waistband. At this point, you were already breathing like a marathoner.

His lips detached from your neck. “Can Itouch you?”

“Yes, please,” you breathed.

As he travelled down, down beneath your waistband, he pecked your reddened lips once more. A soft gasp escaped you and warmth tingled between your thighs. His fingers were gentle as he began circling that sweet, sensitive spot only you had ever touched. Having someone else touch you felt so much more different, so much more exquisite. Your body responded to his touch immediately, hips following each movement of his fingers, breaths quickening in pace.

Finnick gazed down at you, observing each pleasured twist of your expression. He began to pick up the pace as he noticed your body familiarising itself with the sensation. More pressure was applied and the gasps leaving your mouth were gradually turning into quiet moans.

“This feel okay?” he asked. Obviously, he knew the answer, but after years of having others take advantage of him, he couldn’t help but want to hear your willingness. Your consent.

But you weren’t sure if the words could form. Everything felt like it was vibrating. All you could do was focus on the pleasure his fingers were building.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

His voice had taken on that seductive purr he was well-known for and you just couldn’t deny him. It took everything inside you to muster up the words. “It—it feels so good.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The gesture was so sweet, you could have cried. So sweet even with his hand stroking between your legs and his hard cock pressing against your thigh. Time slowed as his fingers sped up. Muscles in your stomach were tightening. Your insides were churning—not like when you first entered your Games’ arena, but in the best way possible. It was a sensation you had never felt before, but before it could build any more, Finnick’s hand stilled. And you genuinely whined at the loss of friction.

Then his hand moved even lower, resting a singular finger over your slick entrance. Your eyes were wide, unsure of how to feel with the sudden turn of events.

Finnick’s eyes flickered between your own. "You trust me?”

You weren’t sure if an easier question existed. “I do.”

And his lips were on yours again, deep and sensual. His tongue rolled over your own, pushing forward and then retreating in a perfect rhythm. He almost successfully distracted you from the feeling of his middle finger sinking into you knuckle-by-knuckle. Some sort of sound resembling a mix of discomfort and surprise vibrated in your throat as his finger bottomed out.

There wasn’t much pain. It was just an odd feeling.

Your lips parted from his and he looked down at you, his eyes holding an immense amount of security as he communicated through your shared gaze.

Does it hurt?

You gave him a gentle smile. No. Keep touching me.

He returned your smile with a grin. Gladly.

His buried finger curled, shooting a sharp pang up into your stomach which caused your back to arch up against his bare torso. Whether you considered it painful or pleasurable was uncertain. Perhaps a mix of both. He did it again. This time you settled on describing it as a tight twinge in your lower stomach which sent a wave of chills down your legs. Definitely pleasurable. Only, he stopped indulging you with the sensation after the second time.

Instead, you felt another finger slowly slip inside you and whimpered. Now that hurt. You felt your inner walls stretch with the second addition and it stung. Especially when he began to scissor his fingers inside you. This was him preparing you for the real deal. How you were supposed to have Finnick inside you when just his fingers had you stuffed was incomprehensible. But you allowed him to keep going, trying to enjoy the comforting kisses he pampered onto you.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he said.

Your hands moved to push back his messy bronze hair as he hovered above you. His dimples deepened with a grin and you swore you would endure any pain to keep them etched on his face. After he deemed you stretched out enough, he slowly rose to his knees, unbuttoning his trousers and throwing them aside. You couldn’t do anything but stare. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

The way you gulped was almost cartoonish. How the hell was he supposed to fit? You had never seen a man naked before—you weren’t even sure Finnick was human. He had a body sculptured by the Gods, a face carved by angels, and a… well, let’s just say he didn’t disappoint in any other areas. You weren’t sure if the smug look on his face was real or a carefully curated mask created for his Capitol customers. By the way it quickly washed away, you could tell it was the latter.

He began sliding your shorts down your legs, tossing them to the floor. Suddenly, you felt extremely vulnerable. Almost inferior. Your knees fell together, concealing the most private part of yourself from him. You avoided his gaze, cheeks becoming red and hot as he observed your naked frame. He had a way of looking at you as if you were a long-forgotten masterpiece, rediscovered from centuries of being lost. No one had looked at you like that before him.

Gently, he pried apart your legs and you didn’t bother trying to resist. Only when he descended and settled between your legs did the insecurity dwindle into the background of your mind. Your naked bodies were hot against each other. His weight pinned you against the bed. Everything that was yours touched all that was his. You thought this experience would feel like a dream, but it all felt so real. You were nervous, you were trembling, and your breaths were shaky.

Finnick was quick to recognise the nervousness radiating off you. His arm curled beneath you, somehow pulling you even closer, meanwhile, his other arm rested beside your head. He brushed strands of hair away from your face, soothing you with his tender touch.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

You nodded. You wanted this—wanted Finnick. It was just the anticipation that was killing you. Your thighs squeezed his sides to tell him you were ready. For a few moments longer, he restarted the pattern of sweet kisses, rolling tongues, and the warmth of blood rushing to your head. His hand was caressing your cheek; yours were splayed on his back, gliding over the rippled muscles.

Then finally, he shifted, his hand moving south to align himself with your entrance. All you could do was watch his focused expression. This was the moment. The threshold of your relationship would be ­­crossed as soon as he pushed forward. There was no one else you wanted to share the experience with because you knew this wasn’t just sex. Not for him or for you; it was more than that. Something bordering spiritual, breaking the bounds of physical pleasure and entering into a deep emotional connection. Something no paying customer of the Capitol could provide.

He was gazing down at you, half-cradling your head as he began to say, “Are you su—" But before he could finish, you had pressed your lips to his, answering his question. You were sure. He nodded in response.

His eyes were hesitant he began to push his tip between your folds. Your fingers dug into his back, more from anxiety than anything else. It became a game of stopping and starting as he moved deeper inside inch-by-inch, allowing your walls time to adjust around him. Never had you seen someone’s face filled with so many emotions—concentration, controlled gratification, affection. So many feelings twisted his expression. Meanwhile, yours held only one. Discomfort. He was so big; you felt like you were being split apart and he wasn’t even fully inside yet.

Finally, when his pelvis connected with yours, you exhaled a heavy breath. It hurt. Bad. Finnick had the right idea to lay down a towel because you definitely needed it. He had you filled to the brim, stretched out and stuffed. Even the slightest shift in his position had your hands flying to his shoulders in pain.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes, just—” You bit your lip in an attempt to suppress a whimper. “Just go slow.”

He nodded. You smiled. Then for some odd reason, you laughed. And then so did he. Finnick’s face fell into the crook of your neck, muffling his boyish laughs into your skin. The added movements had your insides dully aching, but you didn’t pay it much attention. The moment was so innocently intimate that you wanted to stay in it forever. He lifted his head to press his grinning lips to yours and the laughter began to dissipate. Your mouths moved slowly together, full of heat and fervent emotion, and suddenly, Finnick’s body began to move too.

Careful as not to harm you, he slid himself backward in one slow motion and then pushed forward again in another. Pain stung at your inner walls and your lips left his as a gasp escaped your mouth. You were tempted to close your eyes whilst riding out the discomfort but couldn’t bring yourself to look away from Finnick’s face. He was so mesmerizingly beautiful.

His cheeks were a baby pink. Lips were a rosy red. There was a thin sheen covering his forehead, slightly wrinkled by his furrowed brows. Those messy bronze locks you adored so much fell in strands across his forehead. The evident concentration and care on his face just made him look all the more picturesque.

While you admired his features, you started to notice the pain accompanying his slow thrusts was becoming more tolerable. There was still a sting, but also a dull twinge in your stomach that had you biting your bottom lip. It felt sort of… nice. And you wanted to experiment with that feeling.

Your hands were hooked around his shoulders. “Faster.”

Are you sure? His lustful eyes spoke.

You pulled him back down to your mouth. Absolutely.

And so, his hips started to rock back and forth at a faster pace. You could feel yourself clench around his cock from the change of rhythm but forced yourself to relax. He thrust in and out, rubbing against the ripples of your walls, tip brushing at a spot inside you that was anything but pain. That is what you focused on—that one sweet spot.

Time went on and he gradually increased his speed. Your lips were swollen and red, no doubt from the way he would nip and suck on your bottom lip in between each flick of his tongue. His breaths were coming out louder, heavier, as were your own. Soon enough, you were in a rhythm that was both pleasurable for him and for you. The pain lingered but it was no longer unbearable. A shudder ran down your body and your pussy fluttered around him. Finnick broke away from your lips with a breathy groan that you swore you could feel in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

His thrusts became a little faster, a little more painful. A hand slipped down between your bodies and the pain faded quicker than it came. He was rubbing circles around your clit, occasionally running his fingers across it which caused you to lurch upward. All of a sudden, you came to the realisation that everything bad that had been clouding your mind had disappeared. The ache, the confrontation with Snow. Everything. The only thing you could focus on was the pleasure slowly building between your thighs and in your stomach. And Finnick. His tantalising eyes. His wicked mouth. His throbbing cock.

People always said your first time would be horrible; this was anything but. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you… loved him? Yeah, you loved him. Also because he was something of an expert at sex. You were in a pretty unlucky predicament but having Finnick willingly fucking you was a blessing.

His fingers were relentless, applying the perfect amount of pleasure that had you writhing beneath him. And added with the sensation of his cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside you, your uneven breaths turned into soft moans. He fucked, he rubbed, he nipped and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. Heat was enveloping your entire body.

“Finnick,” you moaned.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” His voice was strained and hoarse.

His hand left your clit, hooking around your thigh, and curling it around his back so he could thrust even deeper. He restarted his rhythm of rubbing circles, but his thrusts felt different. Instead of just brushing that sensitiveness deep inside you, he was mercilessly hitting it. Over and over. Your moans were louder now; Finnick was more vocal too, grunting and occasionally uttering words of praise.

This went on for a while. His stamina was incredible—if you had a moment to think, you would have realised the depressing reasoning behind it. But you couldn’t think at all. Your heel was digging into his back; nails scratching at his skin. Both of you had a layer of sweat covering your bodies, skin wet, slapping and sliding over one another. Your pheromones had filled the room with the smell of sex, driving your need to finish.

Finnick’s mouth had been everywhere at this point. Your lips, your neck, shoulders, and breasts. Everywhere except your pussy, not that it really mattered anymore.

It was hard for you to comprehend how fucking amazing the sensations you felt were. There was heat and pressure pooling in your stomach, increasing at a slow pace, and growing more powerful by the minute. Finnick’s hips moved at a steady pace, but his hand had begun to slow. Even he had to succumb to fatigue at some point. He sounded like he had run for miles though was obviously pushing himself on for your benefit.

Instead of ceasing his tiring hand movements entirely, he switched hands. And that was when the heat in your stomach turned into a blazing inferno. He was much faster now. Applied more pressure. Your head fell back against the pillow with a cry. His cock was throbbing inside you at the sound.

“That feel good? Huh?” he practically moaned.

He left kisses across the stretch of your neck, running his tongue over the skin and leaving behind red marks.

“Yes!” you cried out.

Your entire body felt like it was being dipped into a white-hot flame of pleasure and the feeling was only increasing. It was clear Finnick felt the same way. His thrusts were becoming more frantic, he was cursing left and right, and he was practically pulsing inside you.

The heat in your stomach was overwhelming but you needed more.

“Finnick, I feel—I feel—” You couldn’t even describe it.

Finnick nodded, breathing heavily above you. God, he looked gorgeous. “You’re gonna come.”

Your half-lidded needy eyes met his. Something about him saying those words sent a wave of acceleration through your body. You hadn’t known what the edge was until you were on the brink of coming, and there was no stopping it. His cock plunged in and out, pushing deep inside you, practically rocketing your orgasm to the surface with each thrust. His fingers moved at such an intense pace you didn’t even know was physically possible.

As your eyes fluttered shut, your mouth fell open and every frantic breath, moan, and cry was able to escape. Finnick had the same problem. Fuck, he sounded so sexy, it only spurred you on.

Then it hit you all at once. “Fu—"

Every inch of your body tensed. You were sent into a space where white noise filled your hearing and bliss was all you knew. No pain. No sadness. Just ecstasy. Electric sparks jolted up and down your body, rising to your head, and causing you to see stars behind your closed eyes. Your moans were uncontrollable and desperate, voicing Finnick’s name over and over.

His thrusts were frenzied and sloppy, prolonging your orgasm as long as he could. He had lifted your lower back into an arch, enhancing the sensation coursing through your body. Your walls were clenching and pulsing around him, so much that he was abruptly thrown into his own high. His hips stuttered and eventually, his cock filled you as deep as he could, spurting out warm strings of white that coated your inner walls.

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your fingers wound into his hair, clinging to him as the aftershocks of your orgasm ravaged your body. Legs trembling and mouth panting, you lay there allowing yourself to regain your breath and ability to move.

After pressing a lazy kiss to your neck, Finnick slid off you, falling onto the bed beside you. Hopefully the towel was enough to save the silk sheets.

Now that you were resting, exhaustion had the chance to cloud your mind. You weren’t sure what the customs were after sex—whether you made conversation or simply went to sleep. The latter sounded pretty good though. A warm hand slipped beneath your back, turning your body sideways and pulling you so you were half strewn across Finnick’s chest and legs. You made no effort to resist.

Eyes closed, you listened to the heart beating inside his ribs. Thrumming intensely though starting to return to a normal rate.

“Are you okay?” he asked with a murmur, sounding utterly drained.

His thumb drew gentle patterns on the skin of your waist.

You nodded against his chest, remaining silent. After a little while you finally decided to speak. “I’m glad it was you.” And then after a few more moments of silence, you added, “I wish it was just you.”

You felt him press his lips to the top of your head. A long and emotional kiss. The whole reasoning behind losing your virginity returned to mind. It felt heavy, weighing down the atmosphere in the room. No matter how hard you tried to deny it, what was coming was inevitable. You wouldn’t get to stay with Finnick in this bed. You wouldn’t get to belong to him, or he you. You both belonged to the Capitol. To Snow. No matter how much you wished to belong to each other.

He whispered, “Me too.”

[starlightazriel]

bad boy az part 5

warnings: 18+ , 16/18 age gap, angst, death, overdose, heartbreak, self loathing/sabotage, childhood trauma/abuse, drug addiction/abuse, dark rough az, degradation, smut

masterlist

wc: 4.4k

Visiting my grandparents with a broken heart was like torture. Forced smiles and laughs at dinner, which they insisted had to be an outing every single night, since it wasnt often that we came to visit. Christmas dinner had been the only exception. I checked my cellphone relentlessly but there was absolutely no sign of him, not on social media, no texts... No calls... As if none of it had ever even happened, my only reminder that it was all in fact very real were the text conversations which I was now re reading over and over.

There was one particular day that I had been sick, and he sent me a photo of himself a bored solemn expression on his face, I had saved that one, not even believing how incredibly sexy he was. That someone that sexy was even talking to me, let alone fucking me.

you could have told me you were ditching today butterfingers. horrible without you.

im sick, im not ditching. it can't be that bad, you haven't even spoke to me at school all week azriel

i know im not good at saying how i feel but everything is better with you

I remembered the way my heart had nearly jumped out of my chest reading that. How could he say things like that but not want anything to do with a relationship with me? How could we have sex like that and him not feel anything for me?

Maybe it wasn't that, maybe he was just afraid of what he felt. I knew that he had been different around me, I knew that I had gotten a version of him that no one else did. Maybe he had just created that for me, maybe he just really needed help with his classes.

It didnt matter the reason. He was gone anyway, he had offered to be friends but ignored me, granted I had only sent one text, using every ounce of self control that I had not to call him our keep texting him until he gave me something, even if it was just to let me know that he was okay.

-

Azriel was out of his mind. He was spiraling. Nothing helped, nothing worked to get her out of his head. Sure, he could dull his senses enough not to feel anything, but whenever the substance of choice wore off it was always just her there. Her crying and puffy face, her eyes that showed him pure heartbreak, her first heart break, and he knew all too well how that felt.

Though for him it hadn't been a girl, it had been his mom, leaving him alone with his monster of a father. Saving herself but not taking him with her, for all she knew she could have been leaving her little boy to die. He remembered how his first heart break had felt like darkness consuming him, like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs, like no matter how hard he tried to swim up there was something holding him under water. And he did that to y/n. It was haunting almost every one of his thoughts, it made him feel sick to his stomach with guilt. And there was the fact that he missed her, more than anything or anyone that he had ever missed, more than he had missed his mother even in those first few years after she left.

The first night, he had gone to a rave with Rhys and Cass. They raved until 4 am, rolling on Molly, a sea of bodies and heat. He had fucked someone that night, figuring that if anything got his mind off of her it would be some new pussy. Of course that hadn't worked, and really it only made things worse since he had woken up to a text from her. im sorry for anything i said when i was drunk. maybe we can talk when i get back. He hadn't responded, feeling too guilty that he had fucked someone the very night after he broke her heart. While she had been thinking about him, thinking that she had done something wrong, he had been high out of his mind fucking some random in a dirty bathroom. But this was the very reason that he knew breaking it off was the right choice in the first place. He was and always would be a shit bag.

He had been at Rhys and Cass' place every day, they knew something was wrong with him but they didnt pry. They let him cope how he always did, skated with him at the indoor skate park til they were all battered and sore, drunk with him, partied with him, got stoned and high with him.

"You sure you don't want to talk about it? You've been dipping into your stash a lot, starting to get a little concerning," Rhys raises a brow, scaling out some weed into eighth bags. He hadn't realized how quiet he had been. He also hadn't necessarily realized that they'd noticed he was dabbling in substance just a little bit more than usual.

"Yeah, no Im good," he shrugs, rising to his feet, dusting off ashes that had collected on his clothing from smoking. "I should go," he bid them both goodbye before exiting the apartment.

He didnt miss the look of concern they exchanged between each other.

-

Azriel stood in the door way to his living room, almost frozen in shock. The tv was distant background noise even though the volume was almost all the way up. If he didnt know any better he thought the days of rolling were getting to his head and that he was hallucinating it.

His father was face down in vomit and broken glass, he must have fallen into the coffee table and shattered it when he passed out. He didnt have to check, the silence, the white noise buzzing in his ears to the point he almost couldn't hear anything else at all told him that his father was dead. He had probably been dead for hours based on the dryness at the edges of the pool of vomit underneath him.

He didnt feel an ounce of sadness, he didnt know how to feel really, right now, he thought it had to be pure shock. Azriel reached down and picked up a cigarette from a pack that head been on the floor, he lit it, staring down at his fathers body, thinking about every horrible thing he had put him through. The scene before him reminded him about a night when he was fourteen years old, he had stolen his dad's bottle of Jameson and drank the entire thing out of boredom. Rhys and Cass had been away that summer, so he remembered how horribly bored and how much trouble he had gotten into that year. He remembered being so sick never having drank that much before, he remembered throwing up on his hands and knees, his dad kicking him down into his own pile of vomit beneath him. He had watched him struggle to get up, time and time again, he would just laugh kick him down again until Azriel was so weak and dehydrated and physically exhausted, with nothing left in his system to vomit he had just dry heaved, laying there in his own throw up. "Lay there and think about what you did," his dad had growled while tying a thin piece of plastic around his upper arm in preparation to shoot up.

"Goodnight dad," Azriel smirked, letting out a small chuckle at the irony of the situation. He threw the cigarette butt into the center of the pool of vomit, watching it sizzle out. "Lay there and think about what you did," he says and turns before retreating upstairs to his room. His fathers body would be a tomorrow issue.

-

Before the police had come, Azriel gathered every bit of paraphanelia and all of his drug money that was hidden under the floor boards and stuffed everything into a bag that went into his trunk. He knew he wasnt a suspect or anything, the town cops were well acquainted with his father and it was an easy open and shut overdose case. Still, he didnt want to risk getting bagged for something else when they were collecting evidence.

Azriel sat on the porch now, smoking a cigarette while he watched the paramedics haul his dad's black plastic wrapped body into the ambulance to be taken to the morgue, a bored expression on his face. He felt more empty than he had in a long time, he didnt know if it was the fact that he had been doing ecstasy for almost the entire week, the fact that he had found his father dead and overdosed the night before, or if it was the fact that he couldn't just pick up his phone and call y/n anymore.

He had been asked to do a news piece. Of course they were covering his deadbeat, nothing father's death on the local news. In a small town like this they had to cover everything for there to be anything to talk about. He had obviously declined, though he knew they would still use his fathers name, probably show his house... "Chief, I gotta get outta here," Azriel had tossed the cigarette off of his porch and was standing now, his hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie.

"Youre good Azriel, just leave the door open for evidence and the hazmat team," the place chief nods and Azriel retreats to his room, packing his things to stay at Rhys and Cass' place for a few nights. Death was like a blanket that now covered his entire house, and he couldn't handle it.

-

Returning to school was just as miserable as being at my grandparents house. There was a buzz in the air about something, I didnt bother to try and figure out what it was. Nothing besides grades and Azriel really mattered anymore, even though the latter was only an empty hole in my chest at this point. I didnt expect to see him at school, I knew he would probably skip the first few days, and even if he didnt I knew I was the last person he wanted to see.

"Y/n," Maggie says a little breathlessly, jogging up to my locker at the end of the day. "Ive literally been looking for you all day, did you hear about Azriel?" she asks, my head snaps to the side, my eyes landing on hers. She knew about everything that happened with Azriel and her stance was that all boys are the same and he was just afraid to commit. No matter how many times I tried to tell her that Azriel wasn't like anyone else, she didn't listen.

"What happened?" I asked quickly, immediately assuming the worst, jail, car accident. I should have paid more attention to the gossip earlier.

"He found his dad... Like dead, in his house, drug overdose, you didnt hear?" she says, her brows furrowing slightly. "Literally like two or three days ago. It's so fucked, have you talked to him?" she asks, I just blink a few times, staring back at her. The thought of Azriel finding his dad like that made my gut twist, I wanted to cry.

"Um, no," I said quietly, hugging my text book to my chest. "He's still not speaking to me," I tack on quietly, now feeling guilty for not trying to reach out again. "I gotta go Maggie, thanks for letting me know," I close my locker, turning toward the door.

"Are you okay?" she asks, I could feel her watching after me, I turn my head back to give her a reassuring nod.

"I'm fine."

-

I knocked on Azriels door after school every day for three days straight. He didnt come to school, he didnt call, he didnt text, despite the number of texts I had now sent him. It was a new day now, Thursday and still he wasnt at school, so I took the familiar route to his house and knocked on his door three times. My heart leapt when the door swung open only a few moments later, my lips parted in surprise when it wasnt Azriel there, but a woman.

"Can I help you sweetie?" She was middle aged, wrinkles forming around her eyes and corners of her mouth. Tan skin and black hair like Azriels, and that wasnt the only thing they shared. She had Azriels eyes. Those beautiful, pooling, mysterious hazel eyes.

His mother?

"I-" I stuttered softly, staring up at her. "I was just looking for Azriel," I finally manage to get out.

"Well that makes two of us," she says and clicks her tongue. "Ive contacted the school, and he hasn't been there, police say I can't file a missing persons yet because he's eighteen-" she rambled before stopping herself. "Come in, it's freezing," she adds but I shake my head.

"Oh, no that's okay thank you. Ive got to get home," I swallow hard, turning away from her, I hear her bidding me goodbye and I only wave in response, not turning back around.

-

Azriels brows furrow in confusion at the silver, new looking car in his drive way when he returns later that night to grab fresh clothes and take a good shower. He planned to stay home that night, needing a bed instead of a couch, his back was aching. Not that he had been sleeping much, he was doing too much molly, he hadn't gotten a good nights sleep since the last night he had slept with y/n which had been weeks ago now, since he stupidly hadnt taken his chance to sleep next to her one last time after she declared her love. He had been too afraid.

He was sure though, that she didn't really love him, she loved the way that he fucked her, the way he ate her pussy, maybe even the way he looked. But he wasn't lovable, someone like her couldn't just love someone like him.

He pushes the door to his house open and cautiously walks in, stopping in his tracks when he sees his mother sitting at the counter. He turns around, looks back again, rubs his eyes once. Surely this was a hallucination. She was quiet, surveying him, after eleven years he had changed a lot, he wasn't the little boy that she had left. He was tall now, built, covered in tattoos.

"What are you doing here? What do you want? Cuz' there's sure as fuck no inheritance or will if that's what you're after," he practically spits, coldly, as he surveyed her as well. This was real, it was very real. He noted the wedding bands on her finger, and nearly laughed out loud. She winces at his tone and aggression, rising to her feet as she continues to stare at her son that she hadn't seen in so long.

"Ive been waiting for you all day. I came to see if you needed any help with the funeral or if you wanted to come stay with me and your sisters-"

"Just stop there, because they are not my sisters. You are not my family. I don't want to see you, I don't want you here," eleven years of anger was coursing through him. How dare she come here. How dare she show her face here like everything was just normal. Guilt flashes across her face and her throat bobs as she clutches her bag in her hand.

"I am sorry Azriel. I was young... I made a mistake-"

"It's too late for any of that. Im grown now," he scoffs, watching as tears threaten to fall from her eyes. He didnt feel the least bit guilty, he hoped that she suffered from her choices. "You left me here to die, you only cared about yourself. You promised a seven year old boy that you would come back for him and you never did. Do you know how many times he almost killed me?" the words were flowing from him and he wasnt sure if it was the lack of serotonin from too much x or if it was simply all the pent up anger and aggression that he had. She just stood in stunned silence, silent tears running down her face. "You come back now? Like that makes anything better? Thinking what? That I would run into your arms and away into the sunset with you and your new family?" He walked to the door, opening it for her and jerking his head toward it. "I don't know why you would come here, you're sick for even thinking that it was a good idea. And Im sick looking at you, get the fuck out of my house," he growls quietly, and she stares back at him opening her mouth to say something else but realizes there was nothing she could say that would ever make him forgive her.

He slammed the door shut behind him, his lungs felt like they were caving, his chest physically ached from the emotional turmoil. Seeing his mother was far more painful than his dads dead body days ago. He noticed though, that with the pain, there was some sort of closure he felt from screaming all those things at her.

He knew that he should go back to Rhys and Cass' place, he knew he shouldn't stay here, especially after that. He shouldn't be alone right now, but being alone was what he did best. It was easier than anything else.

-

The next day after school, I had been much more hesitant when I walked toward Azriels door. I noted his car in front though, which made my heart leap, my stomach churned with nerves.

Something had unsettled me about Azriels mother being there. Something felt wrong about seeing her there yesterday. There wasnt exactly much I knew about Azriels childhood. I knew it was abusive, I knew she left, I knew that he didnt deserve any of what he went through. I knew it tortured him more deeply than he let on, no one in the world was that strong. I hoped she wasnt there again today. I needed to talk to him, I needed to get him to myself, there was so much I wanted to say to him, though, I didnt know if I would really have the courage once we were face to face.

I knocked three times, just like I had yesterday, I waited a few minutes, knocked two more times. "Im fuckin coming, damn," his voice sends my heart soaring and my gut reeling. He swings open the door, and my eyes instantly meet his, he's surprised, I can tell that much. But his eyes are distant, besides the slight surprise he's not wearing any emotion besides maybe exhaustion, his normally tan skin is slightly pale, dark circles ringing the bottom of his eyes. "Y/n, I didnt realize it was you. Im- Im sorry," I wonder if he's as much at a loss for words as I am.

Worry gnawed at me as I stared up at him. I couldn't see any light there, he didnt look okay. He clears his throat expectantly and I realize that I haven't said a single word. "Im sorry you found your dad," I blurt out before swallowing the lump that was growing in my throat. I didnt exactly think that Im sorry for your loss was the right thing to say in this scenario, I knew Azriel better than that. I had seen the hatred burn behind his eyes when talking about his father.

Azriel softens only the tiniest bit, he lets out a small sigh, "did you want to come in?" He asks, stepping aside so that I could walk in. I found myself wondering where Azriel had found him, less than a week ago someone died in here. I tried not to think about it too much. "Sorry about the mess," he mutters, shutting the door before nodding toward the stairs, I walk the familiar path toward his room and the sight of his room makes my stomach turn as I recalled how clean it had been the first time I saw it.

Definitely not okay. There were clothes everywhere, random pills on random surfaces, some crushed up and some still whole, if it hadn't of been for the few random pizza boxes I would have thought he wasnt eating at all, there were empty liquor bottles, some paperwork strewn about that probably had to do with the funeral... It was bad, I felt sick. I swallowed a lump in my throat and turned, he seemed so distant, so unfazed. Was he on something?

"Azriel..." I whispered, he stared back at me, reading my expression before shaking his head.

"Don't say anything butterfingers," I take a step toward him, he visibly tenses which makes me hesitate. I just wanted to run to him. I wanted to take all of his pain away, I almost didnt even recognize myself anymore... When had I even started caring about things other than school? Of course I was still at the very top of my class, but I was so damn distracted these days... His eyes drift to my lips and my cheeks flush slightly, I was so damn nervous, the last time I saw him he had ripped my heart out of my chest. "Come here," his voice is husky, almost a whisper, his eyes are still jaded and dark. It almost scares me, the way he's looking at me. I advance slowly toward him my fingers shaking, breaths ragged.

"You want me to fuck you don't you?" he turns his chin up, looking down his nose at me, his words are rough now, a little louder and more forceful as he looks me up and down, my lips part in surprise, at a loss for words. "You just can't stay away can you?" he chuckles softly, and he grabs my face roughly, forcing me to look up and fully meet his gaze, I gasp in surprise, making him huff out another amused breath. Adrenaline courses through me and I can't tell if Im more afraid or more turned on, my heart pounds wildly against my chest as I stare up at him. "You just want my cock, stuffing you all night making you scream," he moves his fingers down, gripping my throat now, his long fingers lightly squeezing. I moaned quietly, gasping for breath.

"They do say it's always the quiet ones, the shy ones," he snickered softly, I felt so small underneath him. He squeezed a little tighter, the way he was looking at me. He was so cold, angry even. Did he really believe that's all I wanted from him? Did he really think I didnt mean it when I told him I loved him? "You like the way I fuck you don't you? You like the way I eat your pussy while you cum over and over again? My greedy little slut," his voice rattled through me, I couldn't speak, I only whimpered in response as he pushed me down roughly onto the couch. My body buzzed, my pussy aching with need for him, I didnt care how he was treating me. I didnt care about anything except the fact that I could have him again.

"Is this what you want?" he asks, shoving my face into the arm of the couch, I moaned softly as he ripped my shirt down, my nipples rubbing against the rough fabric of the sofa. My pants are next, and he rips them down with such force I have to hang on tightly to the couch to brace myself. He grips my hips tightly, not even bothering to get me fully undressed. I cry out as he slams his cock into me, filling me all the way up without so much as a warning. Yes, this was exactly what I wanted... What I had been needing. Him. Filling me, close to me, panting over me. "I fucking missed you," he admits, his fingers digging into my hip bones as he fucks me harder than he ever had. I cried out in pleasure, the feelings of pain and pleasure mixing in the best of ways.

"Azriel," I moaned, feeling closer and closer as he pounded into me so deliciously deep. Hes rough, hands needy and gripping me hard, I knew I would be covered in bruises. It felt too damn good to worry about anything. "Oh yes," I moaned again, my body going limp as I came all over him. He lets out a long low groan, continuing to fuck me with everything he had before he collapses on top of me. We lay like that in silence for a few long minutes as we catch our breath, my heart is still racing, nerves churning as I didnt even know how to feel or what to say.

"Are you okay?" I finally break the silence, I instantly regret it as the second I do he's off of me, pulling his pants back up and tucking himself away.

"Im fine, I'll give you a ride," he says coolly and a lump rises in my throat as I scramble to get dressed. It felt like the room was spinning.

"I thought maybe we could hang out or-"

"I told you y/n I can't have a relationship with you, you want to have sex with me, I gave you what you wanted. Im sorting shit out right now. I can't give you anything else," he shrugs, looking down at me now, I could see his mask. I could see he was putting on a face, no matter how well he could fool everyone else.. I could see the cracks.

I didnt hold back when I screamed at him.

"You're fucking scared Azriel!" I wanted to throw something at him, I wanted to hurt him, embarrass him like he had just done to me. No matter how much I had enjoyed it he had just degraded me and fucked me and was now trying to kick me out. "You do this to yourself! You're so fucking afraid of feeling something besides hate or anger that you just push it all away and look at you now I mean what the fuck are you doing? You're doing all kinds of pills and shit every day now? Now you're acting like your father. You are your own worst fucking enemy Azriel," I cry out watching him wince at my words, visibly flinch like they had dealt him a blow.

I knew I was cruel, I knew the things I said were horrible and hateful but I hadn't been able to help myself. Not after he treated me like that.

-

a/n ooooops lol thoughts????

[rzyraffek]

Slashers with y/n that just gets along with everything

Like slasher could litteraly kill somone near y/n and she would be like alr alr whats really important is that you are happy🤠😎. Im sorry that first 2character had super long headcanons while last ones have way less :( I had no ideas Request open!

Billy Lenz

He always expects some sort of negative response when he calls people and when he heard new voice on the Phone he got even more exited cuz new person new reaction! He totally didnt expect her to just go "yeah yeah sure buddy, anyways... how is your day man? Cuz im so so tired...*starts normal converstation*

He probably tries to stay in character but he is so caught of Guard he doesnt know how to react really (hehe the table has turn)

Now he kinda hopes that she will pick up cuz shes very intresting😈 billy likey

"Ew its this creep again! He is asking for you y/n? Of please dont tell me you befriended him??" "So what? He said hes favourite fruit is strawberry he cant be that bad!" *billy saying slurs on the phone*

You need to constantly tell him that, no Billy no harrasing women isnt sexy, you arent quirky, you are mentally ill

"Y/n i killed that bitch that was gossiping about you 🧍 " "👍good for you billy im glad you found healthy way to cope with that negative emotion😇" "on god"

His whole moral compass is created around the simple question 'does it hurt y/n?' .1:no it doesnt so feel free to do it .2 do not do it, she will ban Billy from sweets (bad ending)

The man from hush

This guy. This dude. This Little gremlin. He is upset that he gets no reaction! Like please oh please act all angy when he 'acidently' shot tire in her car! But oh no ofc no, she had to be like "oh its okay honey i have backup in garage🥰" hes like HHUH SINCE WHEN WE HAVE GARAGE

Like tbh thats how i imagine how they met: he saw her, he wanted to hunt her, she was so chill that she didnt even leave her household while the power was off and he went inside and just saw her having lil nap on couch. 🧍🤨erm exuse me gurl im trying to roleplay epic hunter here tf

He probably kidnaped her cuz she was too weird to just kill her but he didnt want to risk her calling police. He probably tied her up and yeeted her on backseats. And then she begun judging music on the radio"yo big guy can i get some good music taste?" "What? Whats wrong with Taylor Swift?"

He will overshare everything to kinda check where is her limit if it comes to being chill "yeah so i killed this old lady.." "im sure you had good reason🥰" "🤨... anyways... yeah so i was drinking some redbull when some guy said i look ugly so i shoot his head off and-" "HEY HEY hold up geez you CANT drink Energy drinks?? Bestie you know it is unhealthy?? Also you like hunt for sport it will ruin your condition!? How you gonna shoot people with shakey hands?? You crazy or something?" "Damn😔"

Micheal myers

I tried to put him here but i realised he will be as chill as her.

Like he can give her gifts covered in blood and she' just going to clean it and wear it like nothing happened or completley ignore it

He cares about this stuff as much as y/n so like not at all. I mean tbh theres is a bit of difrence: shes at least positive about it! Like "yeah micheal go for it, love🥰😇 i know its hard to cope with trauma take it all out alr?" Shes trying to be a good supporting gf not her fault she never had serial killer bf!

Brahms Heelshire

He lives for attention! What do you mean the war crime he commited this lunch break is okay!?!? Baby pleasee

But this negativity disapears the moment he realised he can get a lot of positive attention when he will do some nice stuff! "Oh honey I didnt kill any rats today" "oh that's amazing brahms I'm sure you and the rats inside walls will get along well soon🥰" (rats in walls bully brahms)

Please complement him or he will get a tantrum and destroy something

Brahms and rats have very hard past i might do seperate hc about that

Ghostface

"Look babe! My newest victim *shows photo*" "ugh baby...😰 you NEED to buy new camera or watch some youtube tutorials about how to take good photos" "aw man whats wrong with my pictures 😔"

Otherwise y/n supports his hobbies! People need to grow😇 (and he needs to grow up)

If theres 2ghostfaces(like in most movies) they will bet money on how long you gonna keep this 'do whatever as long as youre happy' act. Well they didnt know that this wasnt an act but her personality

Also they will probably try to use this chillnes aginst her like "oooh y/n something terrible happened! I crushed my car oh what will i do!" "Alr bestie i will drive you over there😇" "😈omg you are so nice i totally didnt expect that(heheh i dont need to pay for gas today (hes very evil))

[klaustozier]

brute ; miguel o'hara

SUMMARY: miguel is trying to work and you are not allowing him to concentrate.

warnings: miguel o'hara x fem!reader, MDI, miguel has sharp teeth as well as claws, remember that :); he will use his "web" to tie you up (I described how I thought it would be); oral (in both, but when you do it's rougher); slaps and spanking; degradation kink; mention of body hair (chest <3); nipple play; he is older (hihi); miguel swears in spanish (because i'm a whore); bigcock!miguel; there are no traumas here, miguel is not suffering from a loss, there is just fucking horny angry miguel here; no condom; light spit kink; no spoiler; and I described the way I think it would be easier to take his uniform off, I think the zipper is on the back, but it's not as sexy :3; begging; anal; gag

word count: 1.6k

english is not my first language, so i'm sorry for any mistakes

i'm sorry for not deliverying the aib fics, but i'm kinda swamped and obsessed with spider-verse, so i wanted to make something different :)

hope you enjoy it!

"You're getting on my nerves", said the older man.

You smiled innocently and rubbed your face against his knee, "Am I?"

Miguel was trying to work, he knew he shouldn't have brought you to the headquarters. You had promised you would behave and you had even kept your promise for half an hour. You soon got tired of just watching him tinker with all that technology and analyzing realities, it was boring just watching. So, like a good bored person, you tried to entertain yourself however you could. Your form of entertainment didn't match much with what Miguel planned for the day, he wanted to focus on work, but he soon noticed that you were ducking under his desk and started to bite his thigh still covered by the elastic cloth of his uniform.

It was no use asking you to stop, you continued as if he had no authority.

"I brought you to keep me company and not get in the way", Miguel said irritably, his handsome jaw locking.

"I just want to be close to you", you whispered, biting his thigh again.

"I hate you."

You smiled and rested your chin on his knee, "It doesn't look like it", and laughing softly, you felt the volume he displayed in his pants.

He took a deep breath, pulled his mask off with one hand and tossed it onto the table, his free hand grabbing your hair, pulling your face close to his, "You're testing me and you're not going to like where this is going. So stop."

"Am I really not going to like it, Miguel?", you asked, smiling wickedly.

"You won't", he agreed.

The elder clenched his free fist and pointed it downwards, immediately you reached your hands behind your back, feeling the warm red rope holding your wrists in place.

"Does it hurting?"

"No, sir."

He smiled showing his sharp fangs, "You're gonna wish you weren't such a dirty slut", he slapped you across the face and ran his thumb across your bottom lip.

"Please, Miguel…", you smiled, "Just take those gloves off, por dios."

He smiled, his sharp teeth shining in the reddish light of the office, "Puta madre…", Miguel took off the gloves of his beautiful uniform and slapped you once more in the face, receiving kisses on the palm of his hand, as if you were asking for forgiveness for hurting his hand with your face.

His hands were so beautiful, full of veins on the back and with long, sharp claws ready to destroy whatever he wanted.

If the uniform wasn't so perfect for Miguel, if it wasn't tailored to his body, maybe you could control himself, but you could see his thighs, the outline of his cock and ass, there was nothing that could distract you more.

The brunette's thumb slid across your tongue and saliva fell from his lips, earning a soft moan, seeing you roll your eyes before being kissed. His sharp teeth scraped gently against your bottom lip. His tongue rubbed against yours, your hands locked behind your body, the bright thread holding them together.

Miguel pulled the small zipper down the center of his uniform revealing his strong, broad chest. The short black hair spread across the skin, delicately cared for. The zipper continued down until it was under his cock, which was hard, pressed against the cloth glued to his body, resting to the left, pulsing gently.

"Do you want it?", asked the brunette, pulling his cock from his clothes, so thick and beautiful, the veins pulsing in the soft skin, the red tip begging for attention. You nodded desperately, "Then beg."

"Mr. O'Hara, please, I need to choke on your cock, fuck my mouth, please… I'm such a good girl…"

"Ah", he stopped you, holding up his finger, the long nail glistening, "We're not going to lie."

You chuckled and lifted yourself up towards his face, licking his lower lip, "I know how to be good, I just don't like doing it that much."

Miguel laughed softly and gave you a soft peck, "Stick your tongue out."

Promptly, you complied. Miguel took his cock and gently spanked your tongue with the tip, the soft wet sounds making you purr. Without any delicacy, the oldest held you by the hair and sank his cock into your mouth, forcing your head until your nose was pressed against his belly.

You moaned low feeling his cock once again widening your throat. Miguel sighed and groaned low, starting to move your head away from you, his hips rolling in opposite movements, thrusting into your mouth. Initially the movements were smooth, but soon they began to accelerate.

"Ay, carajo", he whispered, his low voice making you moan.

Your eyes watered, no matter how many times he fucked your mouth, your body always reacted that way. Your hands tried to force against the red webs on your wrists, your legs squeezing together to ease the throbbing on your pussy. He held your jaw just so he could watch his cock slide through your tongue.

Miguel positioned his leg between your legs, laughing evilly when you started to rub against him.

Pulling you by the hair, the brunette forced you to look at him, your mouth completely drooling and red, your eyes lowered, breathing hard, "Aren't you ashamed of being such a desperate slut? How ridiculous. You get dumb as fuck just because of a cock in your mouth..."

"Forgive me for being like this, sir, I can't control myself… what do I have to do for you to forgive me?"

Miguel smiled and said nothing, just kissed you desperately. His tongue once again dominating yours, his sharp teeth biting down on your bottom lip, controlling himself not to draw blood. His lips devouring yours.

"Lay it face down on my table."

Immediately you obeyed him. The brunette pulled your pants down and grabbed your legs, pulling them apart. His hands squeezed your ass tightly, his thumbs moving the lips of the delicate pussy apart, sighing, seeing how wet you already were.

"Ay, coño… all wet… fucking slut", he growled, giving a hard smack on your ass, making you moan.

You moaned slyly, your legs shaking, your face crushing papers that were on the table, feeling the wet tongue slide through your pussy, until it reached your clitoris. His hands rested on your delicate ass, squeezing, his claws pressing against the skin.

"Miguel", you whimpered.

"Slut", he chuckled, going back to his work.

His lips and tongue had fun with your pussy. Your hands ached trying to hold themselves in place, your legs shook, moaning.

"Miguel", you whispered, "can I cum?"

He grinned, slapping you hard on the ass, "No."

"Miguel… please… don't do that to me…"

"Shut up", he whispered.

The bright red web circled your face, gagging your mouth, not allowing you to continue to beg or cry. But that didn't stop you from muttering.

"Carajo, you don't shut up", he laughed at the whimper you gave, laying his body over yours, "If I get you full of cum, you stay quiet?"

You nodded, getting a slap on the ass. A soft moan escaped your lips as the tip of his cock rubbed through the wet pussy, gliding effortlessly.

"Fucking pussy."

A strangled moan caught in your throat, your mouth still gagged, as his cock sinking into you all at once, going deep.

His hands held you squeezing the flesh of your ass, using it support to help with the movements. As he thrust into you, he forced your body to do the opposite, just going deeper and deeper.

The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room. His moans low and rough, yours were muffled by the gag.

Your body started to shake on the table, you were about to cuj, but Miguel pulled out of you. He growled low seeing his cock all wet from all your pleasure.

"Open for me", he ordered, releasing your wrists.

You didn't have time to feel pain, your hands were routed by his rough hands to your ass, holding yourself open for him as he smeared saliva on your cock.

O'Hara positioned the tip of his cock in the tight entrance and began to force its way in. Big, strong body leaning over yours, crushing you against the table.

The gag was also undone so that the brunette could kiss you. His movements were less rough than before, but they were still accurate and made you whimper softly.

"You're going to be full of cum, princess", he whispered, his lips pressed against yours, his sharp teeth scraping on your lower lip on purpose.

"Miguel… please… I swear I'll be quiet, but let me cum… please… I beg you…"

"Of course, princess", he kissed you once more, his lips close to yours as he said, "Masturbate yourself for me."

And that's what you did, one of your hands went straight between your legs and you started masturbating frantically, desperate for relief. The other remained in place, leaving it open so he could continue to enjoy himself.

One of his strong hands tightened around your waist, keeping you in place and the other gripped your hair, kissing you desperately.

It didn't take long for you to cum even more after feeling his cum fill you. You panted heavily as he smirked and kissed you again.

"Now are you going to stop teasing like a whore?", asked Miguel getting out of you.

"Yes, sir, I will stop."

"Promise?"

"No."

He chuckled, giving you, and yet, another slap on the ass, "Now come on, let's get you straightened up and get you something to eat."

And Miguel pulled you by the waist, adjusting your clothes and his so he could take care of you a little before he could go back to work.

...

well, i hope you liked it <3

please reblog and leave a like if you enjoyed it! and leave a comment with your thoughts, i would love to know!

maybe if there is a lot of comments i can comeback with a hobie story <3

see ya next time.

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

♡masterlist♡

[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

ELEVEN

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

×

“He was in a coma six months ago? For how long?” I asked in shock, but Robin didn't react to it.

“A month, I think? I learned about it after a couple of weeks. His friends didn't know if they should call me and... Heroin. I thought he had stopped with that shit, but one of his weird friends told me he had overdosed on purpose because of depression.”

I looked down at the ground, thinking back on my dreams. Could it be that Eric was in a coma? Believing he was dead? I dragged my hands over my face and shook my head in disbelief. I had started to believe the dreams were just dreams, but now I thought back on it again. The Spotify playlist, the name of his biological mom, the places and drawings he had shown me... Could he in some way visit my dreams while he was in a coma?

“Are you listening?” Asked Robin a little irritated, and I nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. It's just so much… He hasn't told me this.”

“He's probably embarrassed. He has overdosed twice and lived while other people who do something with their lives die of diseases. He gets saved.”

I sat with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands, trying to digest everything. I started to get a headache from it all and dragged my hands through my hair, but still I had questions.

“Do you see him as your brother? You cried when you found out he was in a coma, but you talk about him like an invader in your family.”

Robin bent down in a similar way as I and looked down at Odin laying on the ground.

“No. He's just Eric to me. He's my parents foster kid, but he's nothing to me. I get that sounds harsh, but I never understood who he was as a kid, and then in my teens he moved in with us permanently and made everything difficult. But… They also favored him so hard. Dad cut down work hours to be home with him; mom was with him all the time, and they gave him expensive gifts, and we traveled more.”

I looked at Robin’s sad face and how he dragged his feet through the wet leaves on the ground. Maybe it was actually true? Maybe they actually gave Eric all that. I could imagine they wanted to give him all the things he had never gotten to lay a bandage over the abuse and trauma his mom caused him, but it was too much to not get Robin's attention. On top of that, Eric had magical powers? I wanted to laugh at my own thoughts but couldn't do that when Robin sat next to me, but it really seemed like Eric was something more. He talked with animals, was kind to everyone, liked by everyone, and could escape death and visit my dreams. He sounded like a Disney princess.

Robin was quiet just like me for a while, but he wasn't thinking about Snow White; he prepared a confession.

“I never told mom and dad I was gay... It would have given them one more reason to love him more than me. Instead, I was the weird one, never meeting a girl. Did you know he slept with my best friend? And later, two other friends. He was clearly straight and on top of that an asshole. Now he has slept with a fourth friend of mine…”

I looked at Robin up and down uncomfortably. I didn't want to believe Eric had slept with his friends, but I could also see how that could have happened. Eric had been tall, hot, and sexy since his late teens, and on top of that, he had taken drugs then already. I swallowed hard when I thought about how many he probably had slept with.

“I'm sorry, Robin... I don't even know what to say, but… He didn't know we were friends. I've lied to him too…”

Robin shook his head to himself and looked down at his hands playing with Odin's leash, then he sighed.

“I guess I can't decide who you date… But can you promise me you will never force me to like him? And that you're careful? He is an addict, whatever you say.”

I smiled with relief, happy to have his blessing, but it fell when I thought about Eric. He would never forgive me.

“I don't think we need to talk about that even… He will never forgive me…” I took a deep breath to calm myself down because I could feel the tears pushing behind my eyes.

“Ehm, before I talk about him, can we go home? I don't want to sit here and ugly cry in front of everyone.”

Robin nodded quickly and fixed Odin's leash around his hand.

“Of course, of course.”

We went to my home, and with a big cup of tea each, I told him about my love for Eric. How he had pulled me in at once and how I couldn't stop myself from loving him from the first time we met.

“I had these dreams about him when I thought he was dead and… He really was everything I ever wanted from a guy. Nothing like Dante, then I met him, and he was the same, and… He really sees me. He really cares for me, and even if you can't see it, he makes me feel safe.”

I cried so hard, I didn't know if Robin could hear me, but it seemed like it. He looked uncomfortable, even upset, but nodded slowly.

“I… Well, okay, I guess. If you feel like that, I will not say that it isn't true; it's just that I can't see anything else than how manipulative and selfish he is. That's my picture of him, but… Clearly, you see other sides in him…”

I nodded and dried my wet cheeks, but new tears came.

“But it's too late now…”

Robin shook his head.

“In rehab, they talk quite a lot about how to ask for forgiveness and to forgive others. If he learned anything there, he would listen. It's worth a try. You should call him.”

I looked at Robin, who met my eyes. It was big of him saying these things even if he didn't like Eric. Once again, I dried my tears, and then I gave him a hug. At least he was a true friend to me.

I waited until Robin had left to call Eric, and then a bit longer after that. I didn't dare at first. Maybe he was really angry and would curse at me. I wouldn't be able to handle that. I thought about leaving it be, so I could imagine him not being angry and grieve what was of our relationship. However, in the long run it wouldn't give me anything, so I collected myself and called him with shaking hands. I heard signal after signal, and the fourth I thought about hanging up, but just when the fifth started, he answered.

“Hey,” he said shortly.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Hey… Ehm… I don't know what to say, Eric, more than I'm so, so sorry for… everything,” I said with a dry throat and was forced to even cough after I had spoke.

“Yeah…” he said with his thinking voice. I knew he was in deep thought just in the way he answered.

“I love you. I love you, so so much,” I said desperately. Eric was quiet, so I continued to talk.

“I just wanted to be with you. From the first time I saw your photo, I was—”

Eric cleared his voice awkwardly. It was probably a bit much hearing me explain my love for his photo.

“Maybe, maybe we can talk for real?” He said it in a dreamlike tone, and for a second I would have believed he had smoked marijuana recently, but I knew he often sounded like that when he tried to master his big feelings and sensitive heart. “I can come to you tomorrow?”

My own heart beated hard. I didn't want anything more than that.

“Of course, of course!” I said excitedly, I couldn't contain my happiness.

“Good… I'm sorry, by the way?”

“What? For What?” I answered with a giggle, like he was joking. I couldn't control the euphoria I felt of just knowing I would be close to him soon.

“For what happened with Nick and all that… I guess drugs are the thing I think about when life sucks. Like when you had those extreme menstrual cramps and you asked for—”

“Stop!” I said with a loud laugh, and Eric laughed too. It was a joke, a joke about that time I had such horrible period cramps that my ass cramped so I had begged him for anal sex like it was the only thing that could save my life.

Fortunately, it subsided by itself before we had time to do it, and then it felt awfully scary.

I could hear Eric's sweet little giggle in my ear, and I sighed with love.

“I really love you the most in the entire world, you know.”

“I love you most in the entire world, too, babe,” he said warmly before we hung up.

×××

“I'm sorry, but it sounds super weird you dreamed about me,” he said after thinking about what I had said for a while. I had told him I dreamed about him, but I didn't dare say I believed it was actually him visiting my dreams. It would be too much and sound a bit like an excuse from a stalker.

“It was! After the first time seeing your photo, I started to dream about you, and you were amazing in the dream, just as amazing as you are now, and yeah, I just wanted to meet you for real. And you were so different from Dante. Even the person you were in my dream was everything I wanted.”

Eric looked at me with big eyes and nodded. He put down his cup on the coffee table, then he moved closer to me smoothly.

“You have said many times that Dante was a really bad guy… What does that mean?” He searched my eyes, but I just looked away. I didn't want to talk about Dante like that.

“You can talk to me… I hope you know that.”

I moved closer to Eric and looked into his kind eyes. I was safe with him.

“He hit me a couple of times.”

I looked at Eric's Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“He hit you?”

“It was just a few times, but I provoked him, so it's just embarrassing to talk about. I don't want people to know how annoying I-”

“Hey!” Said Eric, upset, and it made me jump. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he said softly when he realized he had scared me. “No guy has any right to hit you, even if you're annoying as hell. I don't care what you say about yourself, he is the one in the wrong.” He looked at me seriously but suddenly looked scared. “You know I would never do that, right? I know people say it's a bigger risk for abused kids to become abusive adults, but I would never ever in my life do that. I would kill myself if I ever did that.”

His words were sincere and worried, and his face, cute. I kissed his full lips and dragged my hand over his smooth cheek.

“I know that, Eric. That's why I love you so much. I would never doubt your kindness.” I kissed him again, and it led to us making out a bit. I crawled up in his lap, and he took his chance to pull down my tank top straps so he could play with my chest with his big hands. His lips found a nipple, and once again he sucked so hard it felt like he thought his next dinner was there. I dragged my hands over his head and cradled him against my chest while he found comfort against me.

“My boy… I'm sorry for everything that has happened to you in life…” I whispered and made him look at me, still with my nipple between his lips.

“I'm sorry that your biological mom didn't treat you well and that you met so many others that have hurt you…”

Eric released my nipple and looked away but still lay against my chest.

“I know it's her fault I am the way I am. That I crave... That I need drugs to calm my loud thoughts down, but I'm not mad anymore. She was disturbed. She was sick. The men… They're just faceless idiots to me, so there is no one to be angry with.”

He sounded so mature and calm, and I felt proud and smiled at him a little. It would be a good person like Eric who could see life from that angle.

“But when you are depressed, what is that about?”

He shrugged his shoulders and sat up.

“Depression doesn't always have an explanation. It's just like everything drops for me. Like nothing is important. It just falls to the ground, and I can't see an end. Of course I can have nightmares about the men who kicked me around or the times Linda tied me to the radiator for a day or two.” I gave him an upset look, but he didn't seem to notice. “But it's not those memories that make me depressed. That's just my brain shutting off.”

Eric looked at me and then smiled a little.

“You don't need to look so worried; it was fifteen years ago. And Linda is dead. She died of a failing liver when I was eighteen or something.”

I nodded a little and patted his cheeks. It was hard thinking that a kind soul as Eric had gotten treated like that, and it made both my chest and stomach hurt. I kissed his lips softly a few times, but I noticed quickly that Eric wanted more than that. I giggled when he pulled down my tank top again to touch my chest and when he licked my lips to be able to get permission to dance with my tongue.

Deep tongue kisses made Eric pleasurably groan, and when I moved in his lap, I could clearly feel he was hard. I dragged myself over his sex and could feel his cock grow to its full size in the loose-fit track pants. Eric knew what he wanted but also what I wanted, so he stood up and let me hang around him like a koala bear.

“Am I not heavy?” I said with a giggle. I knew I wasn't for him, but I wanted to hear it.

“Fuck no, you don't weigh a thing.” He said, shaking his head. He probably knew I just wanted to hear that but answered seriously so it would feel even more real for me. I giggled and leaned back while being in his safe arms. I could lean back a long way, and Eric let out a sound of admiration.

“Fuck you're sexy,” he said, and then put me down in bed. His words made me feel my self esteem grow, and I smirked while taking off my clothes while lying in bed. I moved sensually, letting him be my small little audience while I started my masturbation show for him. Eric stood and looked at me with an open mouth and pulled off his big gray t-shirt. I looked at his muscles shamelessly, and even if he was so close, I fantasized about having him even closer. I sat up, drunk of hornyness, and pulled him closer to me with a grip of the elastic to his dark blue pants.

From his navel down to the hem of his pants, I made a small trail of kisses. I licked the lines going down to his groin while teasingly pushing down his pants with his boxers. Eric chuckled a little when I licked closer and closer to his loins and helped me take the last of his clothes when my lips moved closer and closer to the root of his cock. He kicked the pants and boxers away with his socks and then turned around. His idea was to just attack my lips with his, but I stopped him because I wanted to look at him. Eric scratched his ear while I looked at his body up and down.

“Damn boy,” I teased and bit my lip. Eric chuckled, embarrassed but also proudly. He had a hobby you could see clearly how much he worked on, but also, he won a lottery in anatomy.

“Can I fuck you now?” He said and moved closer to me, and I nodded with a giggle. With a smile, he kissed me and moved over me, his body so broad it felt like it swallowed me up. He smelled like one of his expensive perfumes, mixed with herbal tea, and even that smell was intoxicating. With a swift motion, he had pushed me down on my stomach in bed so he could enter me from behind while he held me close to his body. I wonder if I could ever get used to his size or strength. I hoped not because every time he was close, I felt so blessed and protected, and I hoped I would never take that feeling for granted.

×××

Eric fell asleep after our lovemaking; most of the time he had held me up against the wall, and I could see that would even be much for him, but I couldn't deny what a feeling it was to be held like that. I felt small and vulnerable in his arms, full, overwhelmed, and light as air. He had instead held me up by the thighs while also moving in and out of me with fast, hard strokes. No wonder he was tired.

I swept my finger over his nose, following the straight nose bridge out to the upturned tip. He wasn't bothered by it; he just continued to sleep. Warmth rose in my chest while I looked at him, but another feeling started to take over. Hadn't it been very easy for me to be forgiven by him? I had lied and gone behind his back, but he forgave me after just a few minutes, then slept with me in the best way. The last time I saw him, he had also laid in a bed but had asked for drugs. Did that craving just disappear? I thought back to the moment in his bed and what he had said. He had wanted the morphine pills he had seen in the bathroom. Pills I hadn't hidden away before his visit. I stood up from bed and pulled on a floral kimono as I walked to the bathroom on light feet. I know you can guess what I found—nothing. The pills weren't anywhere to be found. I searched over and over in the bathroom, but there weren't any pills. I could feel the panic grow because I didn't want to believe it, but still it was there; Eric had just forgiven me and slept with me to steal my morphine pills.

I stood and looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, more or less waiting for the inevitable breakdown. I loved him so much, but he clearly loved other things more than me, even if he had said he loved me most in the entire world. I waited for the breakdown, but it never came; maybe it had just been too much the last few days and there were no tears left.

I walked back to the bedroom, where he still slept with just the cover on his hips. I looked at all the badly made tattoos, the clues to what life he had lived and probably would soon live again. I wondered if he was high on something while we slept together. Maybe it was amphetamine that gave him his stamina. I kicked his shin with my foot over and over. That was the only way I wanted to touch him; otherwise, I wouldn't be able to keep my cool. I kicked quite hard after a while to make him wake up, and after three hard kicks, he looked up at me confused.

“I'm sorry, have I slept a long time?” He said with a raspy voice and rubbed his eyes.

“Did you just sleep with me to be able to take my pills?” I said crass with furrowed brows. He sat up and scratched his chest. He looked adorable with his big eyes shifting, but for me, that was just proof he had taken them; he couldn't even look at me.

“What?”

“My morphine pills; you have taken them!”

“What? No?”

“God, I never thought this about you, Eric!”

“But I haven't-”

“Don't lie to me!”

“But I-”

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

Even if he was the one in the wrong, I swallowed hard when he looked at me hurt.

Without a word, he stood up and started to dress. My instinct was to say I was sorry and beg him to stay, but he had used me for drugs, so there was no hope for us.

I stood with crossed arms and shiny eyes while his naked body disappeared into soft fabrics. He walked by me without a look, out to the hallway.

“Can I have the pills?” I tried to sound cold but didn't know if I succeeded very well. The question made him finally look up at me with sad eyes.

“I don't have them.”

I sighed and looked down at the ground disappointedly. It wasn't like him to lie to me right in the face, but I guessed drugs made him into someone else. I looked at him while he pulled on his bomber jacket and turned on his heel to the door. The jackets were the only place he could have them, and for a few seconds I regretted not looking in his pockets but brushed that away; it didn't make any difference. Eric closed the door silently behind him; he would probably never be the kind to be violent in front of a woman. I stared at the door for a long time after he had left with tears in my eyes. I couldn't say why, but it felt like something didn't add up, but I tried to say to myself that it was just me who wanted it to be that way.

I sat down on the couch where our teacups still stood on the coffee table. I breathed heavily, trying to find acceptance, but it seemed like other thoughts knocked on the door and wanted in.

He hadn't even been in the bathroom. He had been by my side all the time.

I thought back to his visit, trying in every way to find a time he could have taken the pills, but there wasn't a time. In panic, I ran to the bathroom, looking again through every cabinet and box after the pills. I threw things out on the floor to see everything better, but they were nowhere to be found. I cried hysterically because I couldn't find an explanation.

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

Even if he was the one in the wrong, I swallowed hard when he looked at me hurt.

Without a word, he stood up and started to dress. My instinct was to say I was sorry and beg him to stay, but he had used me for drugs, so there was no hope for us.

I stood with crossed arms and shiny eyes while his naked body disappeared into soft fabrics. He walked by me without a look, out to the hallway.

“Can I have the pills?” I tried to sound cold but didn't know if I succeeded very well. The question made him finally look up at me with sad eyes.

“I don't have them.”

I sighed and looked down at the ground disappointedly. It wasn't like him to lie to me right in the face, but I guessed drugs made him into someone else. I looked at him while he pulled on his bomber jacket and turned on his heel to the door. The jackets were the only place he could have them, and for a few seconds I regretted not looking in his pockets but brushed that away; it didn't make any difference. Eric closed the door silently behind him; he would probably never be the kind to be violent in front of a woman. I stared at the door for a long time after he had left with tears in my eyes. I couldn't say why, but it felt like something didn't add up, but I tried to say to myself that it was just me who wanted it to be that way.

I sat down on the couch where our teacups still stood on the coffee table. I breathed heavily, trying to find acceptance, but it seemed like other thoughts knocked on the door and wanted in.

He hadn't even been in the bathroom. He had been by my side all the time.

I thought back to his visit, trying in every way to find a time he could have taken the pills, but there wasn't a time. In panic, I ran to the bathroom, looking again through every cabinet and box after the pills. I threw things out on the floor to see everything better, but they were nowhere to be found. I cried hysterically because I couldn't find an explanation.

“Maybe you are just the fucking junkie everyone says you are!”

I heard my own words in my head. Had I thrown that in his face, and he hadn't even taken the pills? He must have taken them. Where else were they? I needed to talk to someone, someone that could tell me I had done the right thing. I called Robin with shaking hands, sitting on the toilet lid with legs bobbing up and down in panic.

“My morphine pills were gone, so he must have taken them, but I don't know when he could have done it, but he must have, right? Right? I mean, where are they otherwise? He came here and pretended to be the perfect boyfriend again just to take them!” I rambled with a runny nose.

Robin was quiet on the line. I wasn't prepared for that; I thought he would just say I had done the right thing.

“I have them.”

I didn't understand what he was saying and furrowed my brows in confusion.

“What?”

Robin sighed deeply.

“I'm sorry, I thought I did both of you a favor by taking them away. So he wouldn't be tempted.”

“Huh?” My heart beated hard against my chest.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I had accused Eric of stealing my pills without any proof, and here I now sat with the truth. Eric was really the perfect boyfriend, but I had called him a junkie.

“I didn't want to do a thing out of it because I was afraid you would be angry if I said anything that could be critical to your relationship.”

Robin sounded sincere, but right at that moment I didn't care. I had called Eric a fucking junkie. I thought about his hurt expression but how calm he still continued to be. Always so respectful and sweet, even when hearing such things.

“Oh my god... Oh my god…” I said with a shaking voice and laid a hand over my mouth to cover my sobs.

“I'm really sorry, Della; this wasn't my plan at all!” Said Robin with guilt and stress in his voice. I didn't say anything because I was busy trying to control my tears.

“I would never do such a thing to you. Him, yes, but not you. I can punish him with mom and all that, but I wouldn't-” he interrupted himself, and I could almost hear his panic.

“...how do you punish Eric? What? How do you punish Eric??” I said, upset, and raised my voice. I had a bad feeling—a really bad feeling and ideas about what he had done to Eric spun around in my head.

“Nothing!” Robin sounded mad, but I was quite sure it was a way to mask that he had said way too much.

“Tell me now!”

Robin was quiet on the line. “Is it something about him not seeing Lotti? Huh? Have you kept them from each other?”

Robin sighed like he was irritated, but instead of saying anything, he hung up in my ear.

×

[effy-writes]

HIIIII!!!!!! OKAY OKAYY SOO.. MALE READER BTW!!

fizz x ozzie x reader

So He has very unique features, In hell you look very doll like, think even more doll like then velvette, you are from the envy ring, but moved to the lust ring because its just better, he has white hair with pink streaks in it. and you like have a lot of white and pink

so you are crying because someone called you ugly and fizz is comforting you, and you have anxiety so you took this to heart, and spiralled because you're scared your boyfriends think you're ugly, so ozzie walks in, and then is begging to know who hurt you, and he comforts you too, once you calm down, they send verosika to hang out with you since you're best friends andand while you two hang out fizz and ozzie are beating up the dude who called you ugly<3

ofc!! sorry this took too long!! im kinda not happy how this turned out, for some reason i struggled with this but i hope you enjoy!! <3

~~~~~~

fizz x ozzie x m! reader: oh doll

cw: scratching to relieve tension

living in the envy ring wasn’t so great to you. lots of trauma happened and you had to get out of there. the saying is true, places holds memories, so the moment you turned 18 you moved into the lust ring.

your life became better, but you still suffered from anxiety attacks due to the trauma that you endured from envy. you needed to find something to distract yourself so you decided to be a performer at “ozzie’s”.

you obviously had to audition, so you went with a pole routine. ozzie loved your performance and so you were hired on the spot! you felt like you were on top of the world and nothing could bring you down.

ozzie introduced you to fizz, and you guys hit it off! one thing led to another, and now you’re in a polyamorous relationship with them. at first you were nervous about this whole thing because you never been in a poly relationship. you were afraid of becoming too jealous, but they treated you so good and completely washed away your anxious thoughts.

you also told them about how you have anxiety problems due to your life living in the envy ring and warned them that you’re sensitive to certain things. they were both understanding and even fizz told you about his trauma so you’re not alone.

~~~

you had about 3 hours to spare before you had to perform again at “ozzie’s”, so you went walking to clear your head.

you strolled the streets of lust and went shopping for some new outfits. pink and white was your color, so you always seek out those colored clothes.

“oh shit, it’s the off brand angel dust!” an imp laughed.

you rolled your eyes to yourself and continued shopping. you were use to this kind of treatment, being called the “off brand angel dust” was so basic. at first it did hurt you, but overtime you stopped giving a fuck.

the imp and his friend kept following you around the store. your heart raced, but you tried to not show any reaction.

“angel dust from shein.” he snickered.

you left the store without any new clothes because you didn’t want to deal with them. you made your way back to “ozzie’s” and got ready in the designated dressing room.

“y/nnn, can i come in?��� fizz shouted.

“of fucking course.”

fizz opened the door and wrapped his arms around you from the behind while you were putting on drag makeup.

“how was your walk? did you buy anything lustful.”

you didn’t dare to tell him what had happened today because him and ozzie will go haywire. “couldn’t find anything that i didn’t own.” you laughed.

fizz let go and sat on your lap facing you, “seems about right to how much ozzie spoils you.” he laughed, “are you ready for your performance?”

“i am! it’s gonna be sooo sexy. so you better keep it in your pants.” you stick your forked tongue out.

“gonna be hard.” he laughed, “you’re on in 30 minutes.” he lightly kissed your lips since you were wearing lipstick and didn’t want to ruin it. fizz got up from your lap and left your dressing room.

you let out a sigh and slouched as you stared at yourself in the mirror. those imps really got to you but you can’t let them hold that much power over you.

the performance went perfect, you didn’t slip or miss any beats. fizz and ozzie watched from the wings and as always they had to stop themselves from fucking you right then and there.

you blew a kiss to the audience before strutting away to the wings. your boyfriends pulled you into a tight hug before letting you go to get unready.

you walked back to your dressing room but stopped in your tracks once you saw the same imps.

“just saying, angel dust is a way better dancer than you. he has the body, the legs, the stamina, he is the og. but you? an uglier version of angel.” he laughed.

you clenched your fist, “you guys can’t be back here.”

the other one spoke, “look, we’re just trying to help. nobody wants to see the same pink and white whore, we already got one who is better than you. you should be thanking us!”

you shoved pass them and locked yourself in the dressing room. your breathing increased as you clutched onto your heart. “deep breathes” you whispered to yourself.

no, no this can’t be happening again. it’s been months since you had an anxiety attack just stay calm, you kept thinking to yourself. i’m not ugly, they’re just trying to get under my skin. you’re okay.

but no matter how many times you told yourself this it didn’t work. you groaned loudly and scratched at your skin to relieve tension.

“y/n? doll?” ozzie said from the other side of the door, “you doing alright? can i come in?”

you wiped away your tears and opened the door. ozzie came in and saw your teary eyes and ruined makeup. “oh doll, what happened?”

your breathing increased again, “it’s nothing, i’m fine.”

“you’re not fine, what is it? did something happen?” he held your hands.

“just some…” you couldn’t finish your sentence, just break down again and hyperventilating. ozzie picked you up and pulled you into a hug, “shh, it’s okay, i’m here. but you gotta tell me what happened because NOBODY will hurt you again.”

“just mean shit.” you managed to say through your sobs.

“oh honey..breathe with me.”

you followed his breathing and eventually calmed down. your head was aching from how much you were crying. ozzie sat you down on the bench and got on his knees to be at your level. he took your hands into his and squeezed them, “who said these things?”

“an imp with short white hair and wearing a blue shirt? and the other has longer white hair who wasn’t wearing a shirt.” you took shaky breath in and out.

“i’m gonna BEAT those FUCKERS UP” ozzie screamed before calming down, “sorry for yelling it’s just-”

“i know, ozzie.” you softly smiled but dropped it, “i don’t feel good about my self.” you sniffled, “i don’t understand why you and fizz want a “shein version of angel dust”.”

“doll, STOP thinking like that! you’re better than that! fizzy and i think you are the most beautiful, handsome, attractive, sexy looking demon here! how about you hang out with verosika tonight and fizz and i will go handle them, does that sound good?”

you nodded as ozzie stood up to call verosika. you couldn’t help but to scratch yourself to relieve tension again. he hung up and got down to your level again, pulling your hands away from your arms so you would stop hurting yourself, “verosika is coming over in about 30 minutes, just sit tight. will you be okay being here until then?”

“i will, thanks again.”

“of course, doll! you mean everything to fizzy and i.” he smiled. “please stop scratching yourself, okay?”

you nodded and hugged yourself with your arms and your tail.

ozzie ending up leaving you in this dressing room. you needed to get out of this costume and take off your ruined makeup but was too tired to do anything. you were glad you’re able to hang out with your best friend, but still so mentally tired.

another knock was heard, “hey bitch,” verosika said, “can i come in?”

“yeah,” you got up and open the door. verosika handed you a flask.

“you doing alright?”

“not really.”

“want to get dress in some sexy ass clothes and go to a bar?” she sweetly smiled.

“i guess..sorry im just so tired after i get anxiety attacks.”

She rubbed your shoulder, “i know, baby…do you want me to dress you up!” her smile gotten bigger, in which making you smile.

you agreed and watch verosika squeal out of happiness. she went through all of your clothes that was in the dressing room and picked out the sexiest one you have. “bitch, PLEASE wear this.”

“uh..i don’t know. i don’t think i’ll good in it.”

“oh come on, please? trust me you’re already fucking hot. wear this.” she threw it to you.

“fine.” you took it out of her hands and got dressed while she turned around.

“ya know..fizz and ozzie really loves you.”

“i hope so.”

“i know so. they always talk about you.”

you finished putting on the outfit and got her attention. she turned back around and gasped, “i need to ask if i can join in on the polyamory.” she laughed, “let me do your makeup.”

you sat down on the bench as verosika gathered the makeup from the vanity. she picked out all shades of pink and did your eyeshadow/eyeliner/mascara before doing your face. you turned back around to look at yourself in the mirror, still feeling ugly but you know that’s not true.

you and verosika made your way to the nearest bar and got drinks. she obviously got shit faced but you tried to just get tipsy and not too drunk. “you know, y/n, im really glad i met you.” she rested her head on your shoulder.

“i’m glad too. if it wasn’t for fizz and ozzie then we wouldn’t have been friends.”

“you have no idea on how much they love you.” she drunkly said, “they’ll do anything to protect you.”

“yeah..i think they’re beating up those guys right now.” you laughed.

“oh most definitely.”

you took another sip of your margarita, “i feel much better.”

“is the alcohol talking or you?”

“probably both.” you snickered, “but i do feel much better. thanks again for inviting me out.”

“of course, bitch. come on,” verosika slid off of the bar stool and wobbled a bit, “let’s take you back to fizz and ozzie.” she reached her hand out for you, in which you gladly took.

“verosika, i think maybe i should take you back to your place,” you laughed, “you’re shit face.”

“yeah but this day is for you,” she slurred.

“you could just spend the night with us.” you smirked.

“that’ll probably be better because i see four of you.”

[l-in-the-light]

Facing your own abyss in Silent Hill 2

Every save point is a red square. Looking at it is painful it's like... someone's... groping around my skull. Every hole James jumps into...

...is a square. The tv at the big reveal is an old crt one with a square screen.

Even the bathroom's mirror at the very beginning of the game is a square. Who cares about a bathroom's mirror, right? But the whole game starts with James staring at himself, into that mirror. He's staring at himself. Staring into the abyss. His mind is his own abyss. We've been looking at it the whole time, from the very start of the game.

"He who is not bold enough to be stared at from across the abyss is not bold enough to stare into himself. The truth can only be learned by marching forward."

James starts the game by staring at himself. He's not afraid of death. He thinks he wants to find out the truth, because things don't make sense to him, he can't understand anything, but he feels something is wrong.

But at the last save point, James looks away from the abyss. He was not ready to find out everything. He doesn't want to look into himself even deeper. He's afraid of what he can find. Please stop staring at me, I don't want for you to look into myself. I don't want to see any more.

A hot take: there's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes it might be better not to stare too long. Heck, it takes so much courage to do that. Many, many people would rather continue their lives by holding false ideas about oneself, choosing safety over feeling uncomfortable. It's a very human thing to do. Just sometimes you don't get that choice and you can't live normally unless you not only stare back, but also jump right into that abyss. It will be terrifying, you might find things you wish you never knew, you might find out nothing of what happened to you was ever your fault, but it won't make you feel any better anyway. It's when you're at your limit that you're literally forced to face it, when you buried what made you uncomfortable so deep that you feel overwhelmed and numbed, and you don't even understand why - because you hid the reasons. Or you can just run away. Some would prefer death over the truth.

This can happen because of our mental health crashing down. Unresolved traumas, feelings, belittling our own pain, trying to fit a circle into a square hole, unbelonging.

Ultimately, it doesn't even matter what is James' personal struggle, because anyone can relate to this in some ways. You can't escape abyss for forever, we've all been there and we all will be jumping into abyss again, and again.

But this has to be said, I'm sorry not sorry:

Sometimes you will get lost in your abyss to the point you will project your own issues on other people. It's a way to make you feel more secure, safe, when you tripped over some uncomfortable truth. Because you normalize it and it can't be overwhelming anymore if everyone can relate to it, in other words: you try to belittle the problem so that the "uncomfortable feeling" goes away. It becomes normal, familiar, tamed, nothing to be afraid of as the result. But is it really fair towards the people you did the projecting on? You're not helping them or respecting them if you just throw your own issues at them like that. And this applies to Silent Hill fandom as a whole, actually, because:

Every Silent Hill game (even the bad ones, even freaking Ascension) and movie: *shows clearly that the story is about PTSD, characters suffer from symptoms and hallucinations, are triggered by sounds, suffer from victim blaming etc.*

Every second fan on reddit: James is just sexually frustrated, he doesn't have any trauma, and even if he has one it doesn't matter, what are you talking about?! You're reaching! Everything is horny and sexy in this game, my interpretation is CANON! The town is evil and it punishes James and Eddie because they're bad people! Angela did a bad thing but didn't deserve it btw.

This is mostly me venting a bit, feel free to dislike it, but I need to get it off somewhere and I decided: tumblr it is.

Like, literally, all Silent Hill series entries share a theme of PTSD, but some people will go to extreme lengths to deny it and call it "reaching" WHILE saying "sexual frustration is canon". Alessa suffers from PTSD in SH1, James, Eddie and Angela suffer from it in SH2, freaking Heather, Claudia and even Douglas suffers from it in SH3, Henry and Walter in Silent Hill 4, Travis in Origins, Alessa in the movie, Heather in the movie, Cheryl in Shattered Memories (she's even in a therapy, come on, get a clue!), Alex in Homecoming, Murphy in Downpour etc. etc. etc. They all went through a trauma, Silent Hill reflects their traumatic experiences (that they don't want to remember!), they have to face their triggers putting them through the traumatic event again and again, and then delusions attemping to lull the mind into a fake sense of comfort. Their monsters are the delusions, not their horny desires!

Btw if you see your monsters as horny creatures, then maybe you're understanding it all wrong. It's supposed to be a delusion or fear, if you're horny and just want to hump things and that's why everything you see is sexy, then it's definiely not something you actually fear, and if it is, then I think you have bigger issues to deal with than sexual frustration here.

That being said, the creature monster designer, Masahiro Ito, called those monsters "delusions". Delusion is something that isn't an accurate representation of a concept in your mind. Delusion is far removed from reality. You want to believe a lie, because you can't handle the truth.

Now, if monsters are showing your sexual frustration that you don't want to admit you have, then they should be dressed like nuns instead. You want to deceive your mind, you want to believe you're not *that* horny and are faithful to your one and only, you can't handle the possibility that you're thinking of having an affair on the side.

Let's unpack this monster (Abstract Daddy/Ideal Father), having all of the above in mind:

It's a surreal creature consisting of two people, it has two heads and two mouths. And it's not literally showing intercourse like so many in "sexual frustration is canon" camp are claiming. Because that would be *a literal representation*, not a delusion. You would literally be seeing what happened, forcing you to face it in it's full horror and that can't make you believe in a lie (remember, the idea is that: you can't handle the truth, your mind is creating a delusion to calm you down). It's a self-defense mechanism fighting back against the trauma. You need to get rid of that delusion so you can face what actually happened!

There's one more description of Abstract Daddy in Japanese that is never truly translated into english. It's おぶさったとおちゃん (obusatta tōchan), loosely it means something like "piggyback daddy"; a dad carrying a child on their shoulders/back. Now look at the creature again. It looks like a smaller person is clinging to a bigger one, if you consider that the whole frame belongs to the person on the bottom and is "their body". Perhaps the door/bedframe person is carrying the smaller one on top of itself, but since the child is heavy/older now the frame ends up bending towards the ground. It's an image of a dad carrying his child.

Kinda like this (Inu Yasha is here just to illustrate the concept). That's why the limbs are hanging loosely like that on the monster's design.

Wait a moment, but why is the frame so big under the top person? It doesn't look like part of a body at all. That's because of the subjective perspective. When you're a small child, your dad looks especially big to you. When you cling to his back, you feel like it's so broad, strong and big; so big your hands won't meet when you embrace him. And most importantly, makes you feel safe and secure, because a father should protect his child. I could swear I even read lines like that in mangas or heard them in movies before, because that's definitely not my own impression there I thought up on my very own.

In order to see the truth that your parent was an abuser, you need to get rid of that "safe and secure" feeling of delusion you're experiencing. The monster is wrapped in cloth btw to obscure the truth, what you see on the surface is incorrect, the truth is trapped underneath (and if you want to, then NOW is the moment to jump to your intercourse thoughts or draw a parallel to Mary on sickbed. Let's call it an extra layer to this monster). Literally uncovering it would be the very definition of a horror.

Extra thought: the monster attacks James like it wants to protect Angela from the possible stranger (what an Ideal Father should do, indeed). Makes the whole scene afterwards have a lot more sense too, with Angela calling James a disgusting pig who is also only after "one thing". She considered James a threat, but it wasn't a conscious fear until the defeat of the monster. Next time they will meet, Angela starts to mistake James as her mom instead, so the whole paranoid delusion of James being a threat (because he's a male and males became her PTSD trigger) got dissolved and it's the result of Abstract Daddy's defeat. Angela now knows who was the real threat.

Finally, after 10+ years I solved the mystery of Abstract Daddy. You're welcome if you enjoyed the ride. I don't even like this monster's design all that much (I find Mandarins way cooler). But this isn't the end. If Abstract Daddy is a delusion, it means all the other monsters are also delusions and HIDE the truth, not "expose" or "manifest" it in straightforward manner. Only getting rid of them by unwrapping the actual thing underneath will lead you towards truth, believing the surface level will leave you delusional. There's still a lot to unwrap about the 9 delusions of James.

Yes, Abstract Daddy is how the monster looks like for James. We never knew how it looked like for Angela. Just the name alone suggests James has some trauma related to his father as well, which is a link that connects James to Angela.

And you know what, it's fine if you thought all this time that James is just sexually frustrated. I don't know how you can explain to yourself the fact that he needs to fight the sexy creatures instead of being overjoyed he can "'get some" finally. I thought that's how touch starvation works? But even if you somehow projected your own fears onto James it's alright. You just caught a glimpse of your own abyss and maybe you're not yet ready to stare back at it. We all keep doing those mistakes. It's just human.

Yes, of course me too. Why else do you think it took me 10+ years to solve this mystery? And it's only a start of it, we barely made it under the surface of this iceberg. But I feel like most Silent Hill fans aren't even remotely interested in any interpretation that opposes "sexual frustration" angle, especially now after Masahiro Ito denied that's it's not a canon interpretation, yeeting it back to "headcanon" category where it always belonged.

Yes, sexual themes are there in the game to make you uncomfortable, but if you know the sources of inspiration (Jung), then you know the uncomfortable levels get much deeper than your post-pandemic touch starvation. Maybe you're not ready or not interested to go that far and it's alright. I'm actually not so sure I'm ready to face the deepest depths of James's abyss myself. It both fascinates and terrifies me. We might have to go full Lynch on Silent Hill 2 and realize that nothing is what it actually seems.

Link to my previous interpretation essay on Silent Hill 2, in case anyone is interested (it's about merging of Otherworlds): https://www.tumblr.com/l-in-the-light/765829615005597696.

[bananasfosterparent]

The difference in AA is his soul being irreversibly gone. That is the point and this is what Larians writers have been hinting at and this is what irks people about AA. The oversexualisation and erasure of his trauma, effectively erasing him as a person. I know we're talking about a fictional character, but if we're gonna go off on the topic, saying something "doesn't matter" is just a cop-out. Astarion didn't need to be "fixed" to the point of emotional lobotomy.

I don't think it's wrong to like or prefer him, but I think it's valid to have opinion on the matter, much like you have yours.

I started to apologize for the length of this, but honestly, since you sent the message, I'm going to respond to every part of it. I'm not sorry for the rambling lol

"The difference in AA is his soul being irreversibly gone."

Okay, show me the quote/scene/dialog in-game where this canonly is said and confirmed? Where does it say the ritual will ever touch his soul or any part of the game talks about his literal soul?

And if by soul you mean the "lose who you are inside" as a metaphor, that's still a matter of opinion and not actually canonly what happens. Astarion is still himself. The "changes" in his personality are shifts to simply adjust to the company he is around. He's essentially code switching.

That is the point and this is what Larians writers have been hinting at and this is what irks people about AA.

Got it. So the point of Astarion's romance is for Larian to write a singular story that has one ending you're "supposed" to enjoy with a "morally good" conclusion, and one ending that's fun and sexy, but "supposed" to be a cautionary warning of how things "shouldn't go". Because that makes sense for a "choose your own adventure" game and that's why the romance stops with AA as soon as you ascend him, and he enslaves and compels your character and you can't continue the romance with him--OH WAIT.

The oversexualisation and erasure of his trauma, effectively erasing him as a person

"The oversexualization".... So you know my Tav's personal motivations and why she chose to ascend him? And you're confident you know I made the roleplay decisions I made because you know it centers entirely and solely around it being to sexualize him?

Interesting.

Because that couldn't be further from the truth. My Tav has an entire story for why she chose to ascend him and it has nothing to do with how sexy it makes him. And it was a story I came up with well before I knew about any of this "sexualization" concept. And as a player, I didn't ascend him because I wanted a sexy vampire. I went into his romance blind and had no idea what would happen when I did it. I ascended him because it narratively made sense for my character and their relationship. But even then, if I wanted a sexy vampire, why is that a bad thing? He's not real.

And I find it so ironic that a lot of spawn fans who are anti-AA only enjoy AA for the sexual parts of that ending. Yet, we're the ones "oversexualizing" him lol

As for "erasure of his trauma"... where do I even start? What does that even mean? lol I'm not gonna lie. You sound young or unaware, but believe it or not, in real life there is more than one way to deal with trauma. And dealing with it in a way you don't agree with doesn't erase the trauma or mean the person is pretending it never happened. Ascended Astarion very much addresses his trauma and exercises a different form of healing.

In a fantasy world, you can actually explore those other options and have the outcome work FOR you, even if it wouldn't in real life. Accepting your fate and trying to align yourself with "morally good" choices is certainly not a bad thing and one way to go. In real life, that's what I agree with, as a Christian and believer in Christ. But Faerun doesn't have a Jesus. They don't have the same real world ideas of morals. They have their own gods, their own history, their own moral perspective outside of our world. Bringing in (your perspective of) our real world morals is a valid way to roleplay, but it's not the "only correct" way to roleplay.

There is the route of overthrowing what was meant to control and destroy you, and taking control of it yourself. Taking what was meant to be against you and making it work for you instead. For me, that's what Astarion's ascension means.

A smaller example of this is if you give Astarion Gandrel's crossbrow to use.

This weapon was designed to work against vampire spawn. It allows for its user to possibly inflict Turn Undead on enemies and gives them advantage in a fight against monster types. And yet, Astarion can wield it and use it effectively. He can take what was created to hurt and destroy him and use it to work for him.

Ascension can be the exact same thing. It's not a matter of which opinion of ascension is morally right. It's a matter of which decision on ascension is right for your Tav and their story with Astarion.

...saying something "doesn't matter" is just a cop-out.

Can you show me where I said "something" "doesn't matter"? Cause it wasn't in any of my recent posts. Are you referring to one of my older ones?

Not only do I not know what part of what post you're referring to, BUT I also don't know what I was talking about, if I even said "something" doesn't matter. I don't know what that "something" is.

Astarion didn't need to be "fixed" to the point of emotional lobotomy.

I'm glad we agree on something. I've seen people claim ascension is "fixing" him (because it eliminates the negative traits of vampirism) and therefore it's weird to call anti-AA spawn fans "fixers". But the difference is trying to change(fix) his morals and view of the world to reflect a "good" worldview (the spawn ending) VS trying to change (fix) his circumstances and lack of control (helping his ascend).

AA fans do not want to change his personality or his mental/emotional state. We want to change his circumstances so that he has a place to be able to make those decisions on his own. And for most of us, Ascension provides that perspective.

Spawn fans want the same thing. But the approach is more to convince him from the inside out that he can make those decisions without ascension. And that's also true. But not more valid or the only way.

But his personality does not change in either ending. In one (spawn ending), he is able to find freedom in just being free of Cazedor and exist the way he always has with a newfound confidence and peace.

In another, he is able to find freedom in taking the helm himself, and holding all the cards to be the one on top. He finds confidence in having the power and being able to wield it, without fear of anything he's had to fear with the negatives of vampirism.

But in both, he is still the same person. He still gets joy out of the same things (killing people, having/causing/observing bloodshed, and causing some chaos), he still has the same personality. The difference is in his circumstances and how he presents himself.

I don't think it's wrong to like or prefer him, but I think it's valid to have opinion on the matter, much like you have yours.

You don't mean that. Because if you did, you wouldn't have a reason to send this anon message in the first place. You wouldn't care enough. It wouldn't matter. You wouldn't have this opinion. You would be able to see value in both endings and respect the positive perspective of ascension even if you don't understand it, without arguing headcanon points like "his soul is irreversibly gone".

Your entire message is literally you trying to tell me it's wrong to like him and that the opinion I have of him is invalid and wrong. I already respect your opinion on both sides of him. Because it's your right to how you roleplay and see him. If you respect mine, you're doing a really awful job at showing it.

Regardless, if that is your intention or not. That's what sending this message says. If you really want to say you respect AA fans for enjoying AA, then stop sending AA fans messages like this and either completely avoid AA and the fans or refrain from trying to argue against it. We can discuss it and not agree while also respecting each other's roleplay choices.

This is not a wrong vs right conversation. It's a "what's your preference?" conversation. Spawn vs Ascended should be like "what's your favorite Pokemon type?"

The sooner that is realized, the better off this fandom will be.

[reinadelvudu]

As a Gambit fan, I’ve never been so salty about Romy in my life. (This is going to come across very anti Rogue, very sorry I know she’s your fav but I need this off my chest)

After their wedding you’d think things would get better but they never did, if anything it’s worse. He’s made to be comic relief and an overall joke for Rogue and that’s just not Gambit. He’s incompetent every time he’s with her and it’s gross. Over the last few Rogue and Gambit runs it’s clear as day she doesn’t love or respect him, she’s written like she hates him and that’s her husband? Nope. He needs to be free of her. He’s had so many fantastic relationships with people who genuinely like him, who are friends with him. Rogue and Gambit have only ever had sexual tension and pointless drama. They had their roll in the hay, tried the whole relationship for waaaaaay too long and it didn’t work. Romy is a toxic mess. Them being married hasn’t sloved it, nothing will. Gambit deserves better. She doesn’t love him and she never will. She doesn’t respect him or care about him unless he’s with someone else or in the ‘97 case, dead then she’s all about “her man”.

Gambit should be with someone who cares for him as a person not just as a sexy toy to parade around. He needs a healthy loving relationship and Rogue isn’t it. Not to mention all the mess with Mystique. When has Rogue ever defended him from her? Her mother has tried to kill him and has even sexually assaulted him yet that’s all in the past to play happy families for Rogue, Mystique still bitches and hates on him and now her wife does too and all we have from Rogue is “She’s my mama you have to trust her” YUCK! The trauma that man has been through for Rogue is horrendous. Roles reversed Gambit would be cancelled but Rogue’s a hot woman so fans think it’s cool to be abusive to your partner.

It feels like Romy fans are actually just Rogue fans because Remy is treated like dirt and that’s celebrated. They’re (not all of them, some ship and let ship and can appreciate the flaws in both characters and all of the writing) genuinely the worst comic fans in Marvel history, I think you’re the first Romy fan I haven’t blocked because you get his character. It’s so disheartening to see one of the best and most underrated characters used like a sex toy and a verbal punching bag. Justice for Remy because wheeew! Marvel won’t give it to him.

Rogue is my favorite female character BUT Gambit is above all, I would kill and die for him. So your verbal diarrhea is totally welcome. There's not much I can contribute because you've said it all and it's (sadly) true. But I will highlight two things: ''Roles reversed Gambit would be cancelled but Rogue's a hot woman so fans think it's cool to be abusive to your partner.'' ''It feels like Romy fans are actually just Rogue fans because Remy is treated like dirt and that's celebrated.'' Although writers/director are to blame for warping both characters every chance they get and not knowing how to write a mature couple, I too always felt that it's part of Rogue being a bitch to Gambit, it's something she can't seem to help. In the case of x men'97 I would like that from season 2 and until the definitive end of the series, they stay apart, just as teammates. I think it's the best and the fairest thing to do. As for the comics, I honestly can't think of anyone Remy could be in a serious relationship with. Well, not that he should be with anyone. I've been wanting to see him solo for a long time, just him on his own adventures, more of the guild, etc.

[nightghoul381]

hello sorry to be late I saw you tane request pmly niw if you still do take them for the summer smut challenge kf xsycamore pls can I have on the beach at sunset with Elbert x Fem reader sbd in the carriage with either Alfons xfem reader ?

Thank you sorry to bother have a nice day

No apologies needed!! I am very happy to write for you and those are both excellent prompts! For this first one I have Elbert's, Al's is in the works right now, so I hope you enjoy!

Solace

Elbert Greetia x f!Reader Prompt: On the Beach at Sunset Genre: Smut | Explicit Content | NSFW | MDNI (with a hint of angst) CW: *mention of death*, biting, oral (f receiving), semi-public sex, creampie WC: 2.7k A/N: a part of @xxsycamore's Sexy Ikemen Summer CCC

Something about the mission last night seems to have really bothered Elbert. You’d been off working with William and Harrison on a reconnaissance job, while Elbert was working with Roger and Alfons. When he had returned later on in the night, Elbert’s face was twisted in a deep frown and he said nothing, only pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly throughout the rest of the night.

When you awoke the next morning, you noticed that there was still worry creasing his sleeping brows and his breathing was becoming rapid and stuttered. Suddenly his eyes flew open, deep sapphire pools brimming with tears as he looks around franticly. When his eyes land on you he chokes out a sigh and pulls you tighter against him, burying his face against your hair and deeply inhaling your scent. Unsure what to do, you run your hands over his back and whispering soothing words until his body stops trembling.

Elbert pulls back to look at you and his lips quiver slightly.

“Elbert, will you tell me what’s wrong?” You whisper, searching his eyes for any hint of what’s bothering him.

He merely shakes his head, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. His forehead rests against yours and you think to yourself of ways to try and ease his sadness.

Before long, there’s an insistent knocking at the door followed by Alfons’ rushed explanation that they really must be going as they have several matters to attend to today. Ruefully, Elbert releases you from his arms, his eyes never leaving you for more than a few seconds as he dresses and prepares to leave.

“Elbert,” you say as his hand grips the doorknob. His sorrowful eyes are still dulled with unspoken emotion and you feel your heart twist. You’ll need to do something about that… such a miserable state of mind doesn’t suit your beautiful lover.

You realize after a beat that he is still awaiting your words, standing patiently with his hand never moving from the door. Blushing you hurriedly finish your idea.

“Would you be open to going out together this evening? I’d like to spend some time alone with you.”

Elbert’s eyes drop and you nervously chew your lip, perhaps the problem was something out in London that reminded him of his past trauma…

“Okay,” He finally says, his low, quiet voice like music to your ears.

You smile brightly at him and see the corner of his mouth curl into a small smile as well.

“I’ll have everything ready to go, so don’t you worry about a thing! Just be ready to spend time together when you get back,” you instruct, beaming at him as your heart begins to flutter with anticipation.

It takes a little while for you to come up with the right idea of something the two of you can do together, but still having some privacy should things become heated between you. It had been a few days since the last time you’d made love and your mind has been endlessly searching for ways to indicate that you wanted more without coming across as too pushy.

In the end, you decide a nice picnic out at the secluded beach that had become a sanctuary for the pair of you, so it only seems fitting to go there to spend one on one time together.

Just as you put the finishing touches on your basket of goods, you sneak out to the waiting carriage, leaving a note for Elbert to join you at your secret spot when he returns. By the time you’ve managed to set everything up, the sun has begun its descent and you wait anxiously for your lover to arrive.

The breeze billowing over the ocean carries cool droplets against your face as you take a seat on the large blanket you’ve laid out on the sand. You let your eyes drift closed as you listen to the sound of the waves and the contrasting heat of the sun and cool of the breeze against your skin.

In the midst of your relaxation, you hear the tell-tale crunch of sand beneath your feet and you’re on your feet in an instant, rushing over to Elbert whose eyes have gone wide with surprise at your sudden approach.

“I’m so glad to see you!” You shout, leaping into his arms and hugging him tightly as you hear him chuckle ever so softly by your ear.

“I’m glad to see you as well,” he replies, returning the hug.

“I made us a picnic!” You declare, remembering the assortment of food you’d gathered and set on the blanket. You grab Elbert’s hand and tug him over to the awaiting setup, grinning when he sits down and promptly pulls you into his lap.

“El… We ought to eat, don’t you think?” You giggle. Your laughter is cut off when you feel his lips against the back of your neck.

“I don’t want to eat anything but you,” he murmurs, planting a searing kiss against your skin. Instantly, you feel excitement pooling in your belly at the intimate gesture. You’d been craving his touch for a while and to be granted it now seems surreal.

The sky has taken on hues of orange and pink as the sun nearly completes it’s fall past the horizon.

“But I made your favorite kind of salad,” you protest, body tingling in response to his kisses. His breath ghosts over your neck and you shudder.

“I appreciate that. But as I said, I am only hungry for you right now.” Elbert’s words are quiet and husky and you can’t hold back a yelp of pain as his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder. The pain is sharp, but brief as you feel Elbert’s mouth move away almost instantly, glancing over your shoulder you can see his crystalline eyes appraising his work.

“Is that enough…” he muses, bringing one long, slender finger up to trace over the indents he’s left behind. After a moment he sighs and shakes his head. “It is not enough… I… I need more…”

His eyes move up to meet yours and you’re startled at the desperate heat that’s bloomed within his irises. The heat pooling in your belly seems to threaten to burst into flames under his searing gaze and you slide yourself off of his lap and turn to face him.

Before you’ve fully positioned yourself, his hands are buried in your hair and his lips come crashing over yours. There’s something so frantic and desperate about the way his lips work over yours, about how his tongue traces every inch of your mouth, as though he’s burning it all into his memory before it vanishes forever.

As much as you don’t want to, you push Elbert back just a bit and notice how his lips begin to quiver again and his eyes are beginning to well with tears.

“Elbert, what happened?” you murmur, cupping his cheeks with your hands and brushing his bangs back from where they’d fallen across his eyes.

He clenches his eyes shut and lets out a shaky breath.

“Last night. When we entered the trafficking warehouse… They’d killed all of the women and children they’d been holding and… there was a woman…” Elbert’s eyes flash open and his eyes express what his words cannot.

There was a woman who reminded him of me… You think to yourself, understanding washing over you as his earlier actions make much more sense. Instead of replying with words, you bring your lips to meet his, kissing him gently but firmly. This isn’t a kiss of passion, it’s a kiss of reassurance. You hold his head in place as you continue to kiss him, his tense shoulders finally beginning to drop as he melts into your embrace.

When you tentatively swipe your tongue over the seam of his lips, he seems all too eager to allow you entry, his mouth dropping open readily and a quiet moan rumbling from his throat as you trace your tongue over his.

The sound reminds you of just how aroused you had been just moments ago and you move yourself forward, straddling his lap as you deepen the kiss.

This change of positions may have been precisely what Elbert had been waiting for. As if signaled, his countenance changes quickly from a man grieving what may come to pass, to that of a man starved for touch. His hands roam over your body, his teeth catch your lower lip as he lets out a soft growl.

He pulls away from the kiss, tugging your blouse free from the skirt you’d worn, lifting it to expose your midriff before pushing you onto your back. You lay in front of him, the heat in your belly now fully ignited as you watch the way his eyes trail greedily over your exposed skin.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers, leaning his face down just over your navel. When his tongue darts out and begins creating a wet path around your midsection your skin erupts into goosebumps, the setting sun no longer providing the warmth to combat the cool breeze.

“Elbert…” you whine, carding your fingers through his hair and gasping as he looks up at you through his impossibly long lashes.

The colors decorating his porcelain skin from the sunset seem to have painted him in such warmth and softness that you find yourself unable to look away from him. His gaze holds yours for a moment, his tongue still pressed firmly against your skin.

“Remove your clothing for me, please.” He murmurs, letting his eyes flutter closed, his beautiful lashes fanning over his cheeks slightly as he drops his mouth to your belly and sucks a dark mark just above your hip.

Still enraptured by his spell, you are unable to reply, but your hands do as you were told, slipping each button from its hold until your blouse falls open, exposing your undergarments which you pull away as well.

As you tug the clothing from your top half, Elbert’s hands join his mouth in exploration, each palm gliding up and down your newly exposed skin. As his hands brush over your waiting breasts, you arch into their warmth, drawing a moan from the man still suckling at the skin of your abdomen and leaving blooms of deep red and purple in his wake.

You squeeze your thighs together, chewing your lower lip to try and quiet yourself as his mouth catches the waist of your skirt and tugs it down just slightly. You’re so focused on trying to keep quiet that it takes you a moment to register that Elbert had sat back on his knees and is looking at you with a mildly confused look.

“You do not need to hold your voice back. We are alone here and I would like very much to hear you.”

You let out a heavy breath followed by a surprised squeal as Elbert yanks your skirt and underwear free in quick succession. You hardly have time to adjust before his face is buried between your legs, his mouth now massaging your slick entrance and causing you to gasp out his name.

The bridge of his nose brushes your clit as his tongue delves into your wetness, sending a jolt of electricity through you and forcing a cry of delight to spill from your lips as you buck up into him. The inferno blazing inside you demands more, and you curl your hands into his silky blonde hair, twisting your fingers around the locks as he groans against you. The sensation of his vocalizations sends another tremor through your body and your head falls back; mind growing hazy around the edges as his mouth continues to pleasure you.

“E-Elbert! Ngh… I… I need… Elbert I need you!” You cry out rocking your hips against his face until the pressure vanishes and a cry of desperation leaves your lips.

You raise your head, breath ragged and heavy, when you notice that he’s already stripped himself of his trousers, his erection bulging against his underwear as he removes the rest of his clothing. He grins softly at you, taking his time to finish undressing when he notices that you’re watching.

You stare breathlessly at him as his alabaster skin shimmers in the ever-fading sunlight. The beauty of this man never ceases to amaze you, and even now you’re stunned as his muscles move under his skin as his underwear is slowly removed.

Your voice cracks at the sight of his erection standing tall before you. It seems so unfair that even his cock would be so breathtakingly beautiful but you can’t help but stare in admiration and need as his hand begins to slowly move up and down his shaft.

“Please!” you hiss, rubbing your legs together in an attempt to find some relief from the overwhelming arousal flooding your veins.

Elbert lowers himself, pushing your knees apart with his own and settling between your legs. He lets out a sigh of pleasure as he slicks his tip against your folds, coating himself in your nectar before aligning himself with your entrance.

The world goes white around you as the bliss of his cock finally stretching you, filling you so perfectly, envelops your senses. You only begin to regain some semblance of the world around you when you hear his own groan of your name. He’s still, letting himself bask in your warmth for a moment before you notice his eyes flash open with the greedy desire that you’d grown so fond of.

“So beautiful.” He whispers, rocking his hips and letting his arms fall to either side of your shoulders. Each time he thrusts, his cock kisses deeper and deeper within your walls and brings sparks of ecstasy over your vision.

His movements begin to grow faster as his own need takes control.

“So beautiful. That is why you are mine. You are mine, only mine,” He chants in time with his thrusts, his body now glistening with a light sheen of sweat from his exertion and you turn your head just enough to reach his bicep where you latch your lips around his skin and suck deeply.

You hear him take a sharp breath at the contact, his pace becoming more and more harried as you trace your tongue over his salty skin and moan his name. Soon you feel the telltale sign of your impending climax and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling his body fully against yours and locking your legs around his hips. Your mouths meet in a blistering kiss as you feel your body reach its peak. Your mouth falls open as he slams into you again, voice choked with euphoria as you shatter around his cock. Your orgasm only intensifies as you hear Elbert’s breathing hitch and come out as a low groan of your name as he joins you in your state of bliss, his cock throbbing within your walls as you clench around him, drawing out both of your climaxes until all that either of you knows is the pleasure of each other’s body.

When your mind finally clears, you find yourself pulled close against Elbert, the sun now fully set and the stars blinking above you. Elbert’s eyes are closed and his face looks so peaceful and serene, the moonlight making him seem almost ethereal.

You lean your head forward and kiss his lips softly. He stirs a bit, one eye cracking open as you pull back and smile softly at him.

“Thank you,” he whispers, reaching a hand to cradle the side of your face.

You make a quiet confused hum and watch his lips curl slightly.

“Thank you for reassuring me that I still have you with me. I truly did need to spend time with you, and you planned an excellent outing.”

You nuzzle against his hand closing your eyes for a moment and savoring his warmth as you both bask in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You know that you’ll have to go back to the castle soon enough, but for right now, you fully intend to keep your Elbert to yourself.

Taglist: @aquagirl1978, @themiscarnival @abundance-pathchooser @queengiuliettafirstlady @candied-boys @natimiles

[chaifootsteps]

Hi there, I’ve been ghosting your blog for a while now, just wanted to add my thoughts on Angeldust and Stolitz even if they been talked about to death. For full transparency, I am a CSA survivor, so this holds great emotional weight to me.

I know the abuse fetishisation is old news at this point, but that in particular upsets me a lot about Viv and her fan base, they think it’s okay to say one characters abuse is more valid and serious than another’s, like Angeldust and Val are “actual abuse” while Blitz and Stolas are “silly gay boys in love”. But to me it seems that Stolas and Blitz are the more realistic depictions of a SA survivor and his abuser, at least it feels more personal to my experience to the point I can’t watch it without getting deeply triggered, while Angeldust is still upsetting but not for the great writing or anything, but more for it sensationalising the abuse, making it a quirky little song and dance number. It felt like it was supposed to be sexy and that makes me sick.

Anyway, sorry for the ranty ask, I’m not great at formatting my thoughts at times, but I just really needing to get this off my chest. As a male victim to feels like my trauma was made to be sexy instead of what is actually is.

No apologies, agree 100%. You can treat SA as a joke the way South Park does, you can eroticize it the way trashy dime store novels do, you can treat it as the dead serious subject it is, but you can't mix and match the way Viv does and expect to be lauded as a powerful voice that treats SA with nothing but respect.

[theoddest1]

nothing irks me more than the defenders saying shit like "its a fictional character its not that deep/important" like it hasn't been proven that fiction can affect reality. yes i can differentiate fiction from reality.

downplaying the goofy ass of valentino, and joking about said character his actions, WHICH IS JUST A RAPIST, just tells me you don't actually care about this and the potential consequences. defending fictional characters like that leads to victim blaming and rape culture. see the sexy merch (/s) of angel often being chained up, or just look at raph and their defenders.

you can like valentino as a character (even though i really dont see what would be likable about him, his only traits are abusive manchild rapist), but defending his actions and joking about it is another thing because he's fictional.

i did not live though the era of real people thirsting over real serial killers and being "fans" of said real serial killer and defending them (on tumblr) for people to pull the "fiction" card like it's a "gotcha". the mentality behind defending fictional characters is the same as for irl people, thats my issue. its a slippery slope. the fiction card is so often used to justify the most disgusting shit eventually.

sorry for the rant. im just livid at how blind these people are. fiction is different from reality but to act like it can't or won't affect reality is...yeah.

Nah, dw fam, your rant is valid! Lots of these people sound a lot like those folks who try to justify Loli's by saying the same exact excuse, coupled with "well, she's actually 1 million years old"

I know some who go through the horrors of SA go through their own trauma in various ways, and so indulge certain fetishes as a way of coping and the like, but this is a show that all sorts of people view, including those who never went through SA, some of which will look at ep 4 and see it as goon material. The whole episode actually feels like an angst A03 fanfic tbh! It falls under some tropes I have seen or seen discussed within communities. The very fact that Viv stans look at Val, who has NO OTHER QUALITIES OUTSIDE OF ABUSIVE, romanticize and simp for him, and Viv herself indulging in this gross ass behavior is absurd but unsurprising.

This one below could be liked for the art, but considering the fact that she enjoyed Raph's gross ass animatic, I'm inclined to believe she thinks this dynamic with Val and Angel is attractive.

[nose-nippin-fun]

Hazbin Hotel Episode 4 Discussion:

I’ve seen a lot of nasty posts floating around today criticizing Vivzie and the show. I’m not here to discredit your feelings, but I think that the darker tone of episode 4 merits some constructive discussion beyond a knee-jerk, pearl-clutching reaction.

From what I’ve seen, the biggest complaint from viewers, myself included, is that this emotional episode with some fairly intense depictions of SA/r*pe was not prefaced with a content warning aside from the usual small text in the top left corner. I truly do believe Amazon should correct this going forward so that viewers can feel better prepared for tone shifts between episodes. That being said, here are my defenses of the show.

Hazbin Hotel has had a huge fan following since the pilot release back in 2019, which set the tone of the show. Between the pilot and Addict music video, people had a pretty clear indication of the adult themes that would be present in the project moving forward. The show is set in Hell, the place where the world’s worst sinners are trapped in the afterlife. This is not an excuse, this is an explanation. There are going to be several characters with tainted morality, some of whom are irredeemable. That’s why they’re in Hell. This show is not meant to glorify sins, but to shine a light on flawed, relatable characters who will grapple with ethics and other struggles and come out changed in the end.

“I can’t believe Angel doesn’t leave his situation and stays stagnant.” Have you ever lived through/witnessed abuse? It is never this easy to sever ties with an abuser. They position themselves in power to control and manipulate, and many times, it’s not physically safe to get away from them. Also, this has been ONE EPISODE, you cannot expect a character with deep trauma to be totally different after a 20-30 minute episode. Angel’s character arc will take time, but his interaction with Husk at the end is an important first step in that direction.

“So Angel is supposed to just get over his trauma because he and Husk sang a song about it?” No. If that was your takeaway, I’m truly sorry you missed the point. Husk is the only person who’s been raw and blunt with Angel (on screen) about dropping the Angel Dust persona and being Anthony. Angel is used to having to put on a flawless, sexy act at all times, so much so that that’s how people really believe he is at all times. Husk sees through this mask Angel developed to protect himself and tell him through their song that imperfect and broken as he feels, Angel isn’t alone in struggling with feelings of powerlessness and addiction. He’s not comparing his loss of overlord status to Angel’s horrible SA, he’s finding common ground and empathizing (the best way a Hellbound soul can). This song wasn’t a solution, it was a gateway to vulnerability and the beginning of change for both characters.

“We’re expected to just ship Huskerdust after Angel has done nothing but sexually harass and push Husk’s boundaries?” No. That’s absolutely the wrong reason to ship anything. While it’s true that in the first three episodes, Angel sees Husk as eye candy who might be able to distract him from his suffering, episode 4 brings a necessary shift in their dynamic. Angel is used to everyone around him wanting Angel Dust, the pornstar. But for the first time, someone doesn’t want that coveted persona, and he can’t comprehend this. Angel has no control over anything except the act he keeps up, so he clings to it as a false sense of power. It’s only after Husk tells him that he likes Angel for everything he is off camera that Angel starts to treat Husk with respect, which will pave the way for any future Huskerdust shipping.

You don’t have to agree with what I’ve written, and I absolutely don’t blame you if you’ve realized this show is not content you can comfortably consume, but please understand that depicting difficult material is not the same as glorifying or excusing it. This episode was hard for me too, because I care about Angel Dust, and I am so eager to watch his growth as the show continues. My heart goes out to anyone struggling from triggering this episode caused. I hope you’re able to safely navigate away from this show while respecting the viewers who continue to watch.

[angellic-critique]

Hey, I want to ask something: why Is using a drag queen's persona to create a female character a bad thing?/genq

The implication of cissification/forced gender norms is what I take issue with.

You're okay anon. I am going to clarify that this is a queer person critiquing upon a poorly mishandled drag persona of an animated Italian mobster spider that is named after cocaine. I am aware of the extremities here but I cannot stress enough how harmful viv's surface level writing for only her character designs is genuinely harmful and hurtful to me, as a queer person.

I see the themes she attempted to write but having angel dust only centered purely around sex, sexual advantages from the porn industry [without substance[, the pimp abuse and nearly racist depictions of Italians [Gold tooth mobster who only likes guns, violence, sex, drugs, money, alcohol etc,]-

I could go on and on and on as to why Angel Dust despite seeming to come from some level of apathy to drag kings/queens is nothing but surface level tripe. I do not care if the show releases and all it is focused upon is Valentino's abuse and misdeeds towards angel, IS THERE ANYTHING TO THIS CHARACTER BESIDES BEING ABUSED.

there is a difference of wanting to design a drag persona and having the gender be ambiguous but it is an entirely different level of tripe bullshittery to have a character that is allegedly surrounded around drag performing and openly being himself, is supposedly forced under a guise of abuse to undergo the said drag performing...????

Having a AMAB crossdressing to be a drag persona but then take that empowerment away from him, as if he was never allowed to be feminine in the first place. Angel Dust screams tryhard sexy appeal. I do not understand his, alastor, or Stolas for that matters' 'sex' appeal if they are not written well nor with any care for that regard about the communities they are representing.

Viv just wants to write the themes of addiction, gay trauma and industry abuse? That's perfectly fine as long as there is nuance and reasoning and justification for those characters turning to those types of aliments for aid. What do I meaaan????

Alastor has no asexual/aromantic representation, if anything the fandom has proven that it is APHOBIC !!!

Stolas takes pills and it never going to be brought up until Octavia finds out and then SHE is casted to be the villain over calling out the fact that her dad is a POS that only cares about Blitzo! GENUINELY WHAT?

Blitz is an alcoholic stalker SEXUAL HARRASSER that has NO REPRECUSSIONS WHATSOVER FOR SAID DRINKING, IF ANYTHING THE SERIES PRAISES HIM TO BE ONE!!!!

Husk is also a surface level alcoholic that doesn't get called into question! I'm sorry I'm not talking about the main point you asked anon but genuinely please look at the larger scope over why viv just depicts abuse and substance use as 'haha comically funny' while attempting to 'humanize' her Demons. It seems that the show is just pro-abuse and of they genuinely actually have Valentino try to be threatening or a well written pimp ill laugh and delete my blogs honestly since I have no hope from script leaks revolving around him comparing guns to cocks. Viv really loves writing about industry abuse with no nuance here.

I did not bring up Molly whatsoever because unlike Viv I actually love the drag performer community and empowering culture they represent. It's the same reason I believe that Brandon Rodgers is anti-drag despite constantly crossdressing/displaying it within his videos. It's harmful because his drag didn't NEED to be a separate person angel dust should BE the DRAG PERFORMING NAME.

HELLUVA BOSS HAS PROVEN THAT ALL VIV CARES ABOUT IS EXCUSING AND MARKETTING ABUSERS RATHER THEN CALLING INTO QUESTION WHY ABUSE IS HAPPENING IN THE FIRST PLACE.

[romanarose]

Fic Recs

I'll admit I've been slacking. A lot. It was a high anxiety summer as you know, and I've finally been able to pretty much cut ties with an abusive friend who was causing a LOT of those anxiety and panic attacks. BUT I want to rec some of my fav writers and fav stories.

To keep the presure low on myself I am only linking ONE story per writer, whatever story that speaks to me. I do hope if you like the story you'll check out more from them!

Please remember to reblog their stories if you read them, and if you feel inclinded, leave a kind comment! Big comments are fantastic but even a short "Great story!" Means the world!

Dead Dove Do Not Eat and all dark fics will be in red. Might make a whole other dddne tag list on my dark blog on of these days lmfao

Moon Knight

Fractured Moon by @melodygatesauthor : DDDNE Yandere Moon boys x reader, non con, extreme violence but such good interpretations of the boys

Friendly Favors by @runa-falls best friend steven, friends with benefits??? friends to lovers??? yes plzzz

Rydal Keener

Oxford Comma by @whatthefishh : Collage AU, Rydall is cunty, serves cunt, and eats cunt. What can I say.

TLOU (Most of what I'm reading rn if im being honest)

Linger On by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin : Pre-outbreak!Joel, angst, yummy smut, ft. my boyfriend, Tommy (Angela said I can be Tommy's gf)

Caught by @toxicanonymity : Inspired Keep Cry'n, Joel catches you when you try to run, masterbates onto your face. part 2 has TOMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Maintainence Man series by @gracieispunk : Joel is a, well, Maintenace man in our building! He is married but that doesn't stop him from fucking you

Hungry Hearts @atinylittlepain : If ya'll know me, you know I love Bruce Springsteen. I have 2 fics named after springsteen songs, one joel one javi/santi/reader. I've fallen behind on the series but loved it enough to make fan art! terrible fan art but still! Pre-outbreak, takes place in two timelines- college age and then the 2000'. Joel has Sarah, reader is ellies mom which I think is fun.

Exit Wounds by @strang3lov3 : No fic masterlist so I tagged the main masterlist. Now listen. I love Tommy Y'all know I love tommy... but cheating on tommy? Im so sorry baby. But ur also an asshole lol. Had it coming.

Creep by @theywhowriteandknowthings : I- ugh just read it. darkish but nothing insane like the wrong way lmfao. pretty mild comparatively but use discression but THAT TWISTTTTTTTT

Only Daddy That'll Walk the Line by @millerscoffee Yellow istead of red bc its not like. dark but Joel's pretty mean

Not A Survialist Girl by @tightjeansjavi again yellow bc joel's a dick lol but THE DIRTY TALK?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Miguel O'Hara

Halo by @missdictatorme : Miguel O'Hara goes full Nathan Bateman and fucks his ai. Whore.

Only You Only Me by @astroboots : so im behind on this one too. What about it! Im terrible I know but like Hungry Hearts above I may be a slow reader but I didn't forget and also did stupid fan art of this great fic too. lol. Anyway plz read this, I cant give a great summary bc im only a few chapters in but if youre in the oscar fandon you know cici writes only bangers

No One But Me by @koshkamartell : You try to break things off with Joel and begin spending time with the hot librrian in Jackson. Joel does not like thi

Triple Frontier

Under Neon Lights by @campingwiththecharmings : sexy drunk sex with my baby boi, santi <3

Through the Scope by @ssuperficialspacecadett : Reader works for Benny and falls for frankie. Great relationships with all the boys, reader has sexual trauma so you knoooooooow i eat these fics up!!!! lovely to see all them be appriciated with special focus on FRANKIE my precious lol guy

Shared Breathes by @frenchiereading : DAD FRANKIE x teacher reader. Triple frontier may have forgotten Frankie has a baby (he deserved the money for her) BUT WE DID NOT!!!!!

The Story of Us by @pimosworld : You served in the military with the boys but they made a deal not to sleep with you. Years later after helping you escape abuse, one by one they begin to waver aka you fuck them all. FishBen as a bonus!!

Goddamn have I really only been reading TLOU XD lmfao makes sense bc thats mostly what Im writing. That and the Javier pena x reader x santi and then the will fic but im soooooooooo much of a TLOU whore rn its insane.

Im sure ill remeber some more amazing TF fics soon but for now here we are!

Gonna plug real quick my latest one shot tho bc it's a holiday and I can self promo if I want! Shana Tova, moon boys x non jewish!reader where the moon boys share a part of their jewish identity with you!

THANK YOU TO ALL WRITERS FOR YOUR HARD WORK, I APPRICIATE YOU!

If you ever seen my like and not reblog know its just bc I forgot and im sorry. If you ever tagged me in a tag game and i never responded its bc I forgot and again IM SORRY

If I didnt tag anyone and you think i didt think your fic was worthy THATS NOT IT im simply overwhelmed with how much ive read and how this summer was and i just havnt organized it all. Im sorry!!

[h0ney-dames]

MY OPINION ON FOOLS WEEK

These are MY opinions, the “what I expected” was written before I listened to the audio.

Slight spoilers below <3

Gavin - what I expected: utter whiplash.

What I got- a love for Gavin. Seriously if you told me on April 1st that “you're gonna love Gavin” I would have said, “Haha april foolssss, you're insane.” BUT NO. MAN WAS SEXY?! Do I just love submissive men? Lasko Moore effect ig

James - what I expected: Huxley but higher and maybe cuddles

What I got- ???? The need to piss?? Why the fuck did he talk about water so much? Mans has a smooth brain. However, I did get i love for telepaths (fuck cutie tho) tbh I was half asleep when I listened to it. I have never listened to a James audio

Milo - what I expected: spoiled whiny 10-year-old at Sephero, and an ick

What i got- OH MY GOD IM GAY IF YOU TOLD ME A WEEK AGO ID BE SIMPING FOR SPOILED VAMPIRE MILO GREER ID LAUGH. IM DOWN BADDDD. MANS GIVING ME BUTTERFLIES. GOD SAKE. NO ICK. PERFECT. ALREADY LOVE MILO NO DISRESPECT. MAN SET THE BAR FOR MY LOVE LIFE, BUT FOOLS!MILO RAISED THEM. 🤵‍♂️❤️🤵‍♂️ (me and fools milo)

Anton - what i expected: asher the remake but softer??

What I got- SINCE WHEN THE FUCK WAS THERE A RUSSIAN CHARACTER??? (Or French?) SRSLY. Never touched Anton with a 10-foot pole, the man sounds like DR.hilbert from Wolf 359, also quite literally ashers audio I'm sorry

David - what i expected: pushover, down on his knees begging for kisses and being whiny, and also a bit of shifting cus the “this is omega shit” line in his shifting audio

What I got- NO DADDY ISSUES??? NO CAR TRAUMA?!?!? WHIMPERING?! I mean I predicted the whiny one… and begging for kisses… (beg harder oo oo~) ASHER AND DAVID STILL BEING BESTIES IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE. Swear to god its the lasko moore effect… genuinely forcing this man onto his knees jkjk unless I dont want the whimpers, BUT THE PARASITES- “however you want it… however you want me..” DAVEY GOD LEAVE SOME FOR THE BEDROOMMMMMM

Special mentions!

GUY?: omg guy in the anton audio O///o HE WAS SO UNETHASTIC! YES, GUY!! GIVE US NOTHING!!!!!!!

ASHER??: ASHERS MATE CALLS HIM PUPPY ASHERS MATE CALLS HIM PUPPY ASHERS MATE CALLS HIM PU-

GABE???: GABE CALLING DAVID FOR TECH SUPPORT(???) HONESTLY THOUGH THE TALBOT PACK WAS GONNA BE SOME WEBSITE COMPANY