#clearly not from her very christian father

[elliewilliamsblunt]

(¯`·¸.-~*´¨¯`*·~-. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟 𝕚𝕔𝕖 .-~*´¨¯`*·~-.¸·´¯)

Notes!: hi guys! So I tried to listen to the comments on my last post, wanting longer chapters and that's what I did! May have taken me a minute but it's here. But! This chapter will be in Ellie's Pov. Starting the outlook on her relationship with reader and god like an opposite approach for Ellie's backstory. (Which is a bit of a long start.) One thing clear is that Ellie resents the Christian/Catholic faith and you'll see why, which also leaves a small gap between her and the reader being close! :) she also isn't phased by being gay so teehee

Summary: she was never a fox…but another lamb awaiting the slaughter. A new sacrifice to his sins…please don't ruin her…

TW: self-image issues, identity struggle, trauma, ptsd, religious trauma, homophobia, internal homophobia, attempted SA (!NOT FROM READER OR ELLIE!)

*If you don't like dark themes, angst/horrific reads!!DO NOT INTERACT!! If you get mad at me I warned y'all.*

Chapter one, chapter two

Past tense= italics

Present= Normal

↞chapter three↠

“I was too young to notice, that some types of love could be bad.”

⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧•𓆩⚝𓆪•⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧

Ellie POV

If there was one thing that was clearly apparent in Ellie from a young age, was that she wasn't pleasant. The girl wasn’t sweet, nor angelic from her very birth. She was a whiny baby and an even more stubborn tot. Something that would have been cute in the eyes of other adults. But her parents weren't fond of children, and Ellie certainly wasn't a blessing. Just a very taunting mistake every time she opened her mouth.

While you had the comfort of cozy bedrooms, fulfilling thanksgivings, and a stable spot to live. The copper-headed girl's roots lay in the hazy landscape of a trailer park, barely overseen by her inebriated parents whose faces she could never remember. Walls adorned with faded paint exuded the stale aroma of nicotine and weed, while unwashed dishes amassed, breeding a newfound aversion to insects within Ellie. Nights often greeted her with gnawing hunger, exacerbated by merciless seasons when the air conditioner succumbed to its demise. These were the trials Ellie grew accustomed to when she was young. Because it was the only comfort of a family she had at the time, even if her parents treated her like a leashed mut weeping on a sweltering lawn.

Though her memory was always quite fogged, what she could trigger were either agonizingly loud arguments or suffocating silences that left her to fend for herself for days. Clumsily prouncing around the cluttered trailer in faded t-shirts that swallowed her whole. Desperate for even the slightest acknowledgment from her parents, she often found herself longing for their gaze or a meager morsel of attention causing her rowdiness. Even now looking back on those tumultuous times, she sometimes wished her parents had beaten or screamed at her. If it meant she could have some form of feedback. Yet, such hopes remained unfulfilled, as Ellie was deemed purposeless and inconsequential in her parents' eyes, a mere shadow within the blurred backdrop of their drug-induced existence.

Home, or what she could’ve called it, didn’t last much longer. For the one afternoon she could remember clearly was when it all ended. Confined to her room once more, she listened as her parents' arguments escalated into relentless strife throughout the night. Such nonsense was hardly unexpected; her 'father' had always assumed the role of aggressor, juxtaposed against her mother's perpetual state of hopeless romanticism. The woman was horribly dependent and weak, striking a source of frustration in his eyes, but he never did resort to physical violence towards Ellie. But instead left her to endure her own anguish. Locked up in her room wailing until exhaustion lulled her into unconsciousness, dissolving her fear into a tranquil gentle calm.

When she awoke, the familiar silence was punctuated by a new sound—the sound of weeping from the living room. Intrigued by the unusual disturbance, she dragged herself off the carpet and ventured down the narrow hallway. There, she encountered her intoxicated mother, tears streaming down her face, abandoned by Ellie's father. The scene, now marred by shattered glass, overturned furniture, and faint traces of powder beyond Ellie's comprehension.

"Momma?" she ventured tentatively, prompting her mother to cast her gaze upon Ellie, truly seeing her for the first time in what felt like an eternity. It was a fleeting moment, yet it etched a single memory of her mother's worn visage into Ellie's mind. Her mother appeared weary and prematurely aged, with dried blood caking her nose, a bruise marring her cheek, and one eye swollen shut, smudged with remnants of old eyeshadow. "Hey, Els..." her mother murmured in response, attempting to offer a forced smile amidst her tears. Ellie, Oblivious to the gravity of the situation, Ellie beamed at the attention, too young to harbor any ill thoughts toward her caregivers. "Why are you crying, Momma?" she chirped cheerfully, watching her mother's dreadful stare stiffen shifting gears from her feigned amusement. Hinting at the girl's bleak future ahead.

"How about we go to church today?”

༺♰༻

Ellie couldn't remember the last time she had been outside, or when she had been normally dressed. Well if you considered stained baggy jeans and a thrifted t-shirt decent. But she couldn't complain really, the breeze was nice and the sun was lovely on her freckled neck. Walking hand in hand with her mother, it felt almost like a rebirth or what a birthday felt like had she ever had one. She didn’t really understand the simplicity of it or well any normality in a way. Which made her gears turn in suspicion seeing as her mother hadn’t ever shown her this much attention let alone affection before.

"Where are we going, momma?" Ellie would inquire, but the silence stretched on, her mother's expression unyielding. While they strolled down a gravel road for what felt like hours till they reached the town's edge. Passing by grassy fields and scattered countryside homes before coming upon a grand chapel teeming with playful children and vigilant nuns. The sight filled Ellie with anticipation; she had rarely encountered other children outside of television. "Why don't you go play over there?" her mother directed breaking the silence, prompting Ellie to beam with excitement as she dashed toward the group.

Like a dream, the day unfolded swiftly and hazily. Yet, as with all dreams, the afternoon gradually descended into a bittersweet conclusion. The little girl's smile would wane as exhaustion set in, and her lungs stilled aflame from the fervent play. The sky slowly painted itself in hues of orange and pink, and the church bell tolled, signaling the end of the day's reverie. The children, obedient as most lambs, gathered under the watchful eyes of the nuns. But Ellie remained rooted in the tall grass, her gaze scanning the field for her mother, whom she couldn't see.

But she didn't shed tears or utter a scream; instead, she simply waited and muttered a faint whisper…

“Momma?”

༺♰༻

What Ellie didn't grasp back then in her abandonment, was that her stay in the orphanage wasn't going to be a short-term. Which was a hard subject for the little girl to grasp during recess times when she'd stray from the nun's view just waiting longingly by the gravel road every day. Only to return to the older women with a snotty nose and damp cheeks. Ignoring the caregivers' pleas for prayer or companionship, she remained fixated on her mother's absence. Because she wasn't interested in anyone's attention besides her mother's. She grew even more stubborn by the day trying to battle her frustration and betrayal. Screaming at the nuns to leave her be, beating the girls who mocked her mother's disappearance.

Until one day the pastor took note of the stray after he finished the morning sermon lingering behind while the others dashed outside. There Ellie stood with a pitiful frown just peeping by the door uninterested and going out much more. “What happened?…you always seemed to be quite eager to get out” he teased. He was tall and had a pale slender face with some patchy facial hair. His eye bags were an odd irritated pink while his hair was overpowered with gray. Undeterred, he chuckled at her defiance. “If you'd like to stay inside…I have somethin’ to show you.” he offered, gently tousling her coppery hair. Causing her eyes to light up with interest as he turned away walking down the long halls.

After a few moments of quiet contemplation, Ellie followed the man into his dimly lit office. With its closed, imposing windows and small framed Bible verses, it exuded a somber atmosphere. “Not much of a talker are ya?” He'd joke. But in reality, Ellie was quite loud, despite the past few weeks she just didn't want to amuse him or explain. “Your mother wasn't much of a talker either…or that's at least what the nuns told me.” Unperturbed, he delved into the task at hand, rifling through his cluttered desk until he unearthed a handful of weathered and stained documents. “I don't want to break your spirit much more than it has been…but there's no use for moopin’ on a woman who doesn't want a darlin’ like you around.”

Ellie's brows knitted together in confusion at his statement, her eyes darting quickly to the papers in his hand. Even trying to yank them from his grasp. Before being swiftly denied as he raised them out of her reach. “Easy there, this is important stuff ya hear.” he cautioned, before delicately unfolding the documents in front of her. "I'm afraid there's no note or anything of the sort," he explained gently. "Just your birth information and hospital records."

That final blow caused Ellie’s silence to break, while freckled cheeks flushed red with anguish. She couldn't help but sob, starting to tug at her choppy hair as salty tears streaked down her face. Her heart torn apart and her hope shattered, she uttered incomprehensible pleas through her sobs. “W-what?! N-no no no! You're wrong! My momma is coming back!!” she’d wail. Alarmed, the plasterer gently pulled her wrists away from her head, his voice tinged with urgency. “My god! Child don't punish yourself for her! That woman doesn't deserve your tears," he insisted sternly, trying to console her as she looked up at him, her agony palpable. “Come on….it ain't all bad here. You'll start school, and you'll find a new kind of family. It'll be alright.” But Ellie shook her head in return. “B-but I don't want a new family!” she choked.

“Careful now girl. You don't raise your voice like that.” The man would quickly interrupt causing Ellie's tears to pause and her face to lose some of its color.

Maybe then….should have been the first sign….

As quickly as his stern demeanor had dissipated, the pastor extended a tentative smile and reached out to gently rub Ellie's cheek. "Maybe we got off on the wrong foot," he began, his voice softening. "Names David and I promise I'll help you settle in." Ellie met his gaze with a small, timid expression, her name barely a whisper as she sniffled softly. "Ellie," she murmured in reply. “Ya know, what you remind me of Ellie?”

The girl shook her head ‘no’ in return waiting for David to go on. “Ya remind me of a lil fox cub….got Auburn hair like em…young like em.” He’d murmur tenderly adjusting her untamed hair, causing her to tense slightly with the unfamiliar touch. "Fox cubs are born blind and deaf," he continued softly, "but with guidance, they learn to see and hear. Maybe if I and the other nuns can help you open your eyes and ears to God you’ll see, it ain't so bad here." Though, even at that tender age Ellie couldn't believe a word he said. So, unwillingly she nodded in response earning a smile from the off-putting man.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of ya lil girl.”

༺♰༻

"Wake up by 7 am, breakfast at 8, morning sermon at 9, classes until noon, lunch at 1, followed by Bible study and afternoon classes until 4, then free time until 9, lights out by 11." This rigid schedule would soon become Ellie's bane by the age of 10. She'd venture every hall, read every verse, memorize the insignificant prayers.

Ellie was bored with her life…

But, her disdain for the routine was mostly rooted from the incessant bullying she endured. In her eyes, Catholic kids were nothing but "prissy, egotistical dicks," Or that's at least what she'd claim. Not that she was wrong, she just remained oblivious to the other side of the coin. She couldn't ever understand the girls who obsessed over magazines they stole from the nun's offices. Or the hypersexual boys she was growing up with.

Ellie's awkward demeanor and biting sarcasm only served to isolate her further. Even attempts at humor with older kids resulted in a bloody nose and lectures from the caregivers. And while you may think adoption could give her a glimmer of hope, living in Wyoming felt more like being marooned on an island—sparse and distant, frequented more by the elderly than young couples. But even then when they'd show, they were much more eager to take home a cute tot not some washed-up girl with anger issues. Left with little choice, she had to acclimate to the orphanage's dreary routine. Even if meals were tasteless, or television was practically non-existent. The boundaries of the orphanage felt like prison walls. Like she was being constantly mocked by god that she should be grateful for this bullshit. Sometimes, she even considered the feeling that the trailer she was born in offered more comfort than the institutionalized existence she endured, now that was melodramatic.

Because it wasn't all bad, she went to bed with a full belly, she slept in silence, and at least she had David. Though he was first and foremost the pastor, not a friend per se, he was the closest thing she had to a father figure. He was the only one patient enough to tolerate her bullshit. Teaching her about the ways of god, or at least trying to. But even if he was a bit…odd sometimes or the way other girls would avoid his gaze. She found him to be surprisingly decent partially because he was the only one who was kind to her. And didn't degrade her for being unpleasant. Sometimes even watched with a smile when she'd clumsily dance around outside with her walkman. He kept up with calling her ‘his little fox.’ Humiliating enough, Ellie let slide without a thought about it because it felt…sweet…and caring. The guy also went out of his way to gift her a journal to jot down her thoughts. After getting her shit rocked by some stuck-up “Claire” chick. When she sat in the chapel steps in the rain, taking the journal into consideration.

“What’s this?” She’d ask the older man while he smiled shrugging his shoulders. “A Journal.” He remarked. “For what?”

“Anything really, for ya thoughts…even stories, or maybe you could take up art I bet one of the nuns would be happy to teach ya,” David added leaving the girl surprised over his consideration. “Really?” Ellie asked softly earning his chuckle. “Just don't go tellin’ the other kids I gave you a gift.” Ellies gaze softened with a nod before she sighed. “You…don’t really gotta worry about that.”

“I don't see why you let 'em get to you girl, nothin’ wrong with bein’…..different” The paster would mumble making her stir with annoyance. “You’re not the one getting hit for it are you?” she’d hiss. But to her surprise, David remained amused. “Believe me, kid, I know all about bein’ different.” He murmured in return reaching out to brush a bit of dried blood off her chin.

“Get cleaned up and come inside, it ain't right for a pretty girl like you to be in the cold.”

༺♰༻

By the age of 14, Ellie found herself grappling with the tumultuous onset of puberty, an experience she likened to being "kicked in the ass," as she often put it. In contrast to the other girls who were psyched to have curvy figures. But Ellie didn't think much of it, awkward and self-conscious, especially in comparison to the other girls.

Her flat chest and tomboyish appearance made her a target for more of the girl's gossip, leaving her to grapple with her insecurities late into the night. Staring at her reflection in the dormitory's unforgiving mirrors, she couldn't shake the feeling of being too scrawny, too rugged. The sight of herself in the uniform nightgowns only intensified her discomfort, fueling the relentless taunts she inflicted upon herself.

Along with her new intrusive desires when she'd stare a little too long at the other girls. Watching them dry their hair or simply wash their soft faces. Often leaving Ellie stumped with shame and shyness. Not to mention the longer stares from David that shifted her into a brief distance. Taking time to consider the girl's rumors especially when he’d reach out to toy with her choppy hair and whisper. “It’d look nicer neat…”

Only soon she’d cut it off with a glass shard while her stomach churned seeing her reflection in the mirror….

Unsettled and a bit tense, she decided not to think about it. But things, only got worse when she got her first period because she didn't have the graciousness of a mother. But instead an elderly nun far too fucking cheerful for her liking. Spouting nonsense about womanhood and fertility instead of actual information on cycles. “Don’t go lusting now! Stay away from the boys save yourself for marriage!” she’d holler in conclusion humiliating her in front of the other girls as she left the infirmary.

“I don't think you'll ever need that will you lesbo?” Claire would taunt her chuckling with her friends. Leaning on one of the dusty walls of the chapel only to be interrupted with a scoff. “Oh shut up Claire don't you have lunch to hurl?” A girl would taunt in amusement making the brunette flush with utter embarrassment. “Screw you, Riley!” She squealed storming off while her friends mindlessly followed.

Leaving Ellie shocked and her brows furrowed in confusion as she took in the sight of the new girl. With her brown skin, captivating hazel eyes, and a cascade of curls, she exuded a quiet confidence that immediately left Ellie flustered. Summoning up the courage to speak, Ellie tentatively inquired, "Are you new here? I've never seen anyone shut down Claire like that before..." She questioned slowly. “N-Not that I'm mad I mean if anything thank fucking god,” Ellie added mentally cursing herself for being so scrambled.

The corners of Riley's lips curled into a snarky smile as she responded, “Hey watch your language…I mean we are in God's home.” she’d humor before going on. "I guess I'm a bit new. I arrived a few weeks ago, but I guess you've been too wrapped up in your own world to notice. It's like that journal of yours is your lifeline," she teased, causing Ellie's heart to race with a mixture of embarrassment and intrigue. “Oh? I didn't know you were so interested in my life?” the younger girl countered back.

“You wish…” Riley hummed before shyly laughing. “But it's not like there's anything else to do..”

That was the first time…Ellie felt it….in a long time.

Pure happiness….but something else too….something she couldn't pin down….

༺♰༻

Skipping Bible study, dozing off during sermons, and sharing sacramental wafers with Riley for a snack became Ellie's new routine as she transitioned into her teenage years. It was a schedule that didn't sit well with the nuns, especially David. Who'd silently glare at the girls in a horrific way that even made Ellie stir. But the girl couldn't care less, because she had Riley. If that girl was anything she was cereal at night, of the sun through storm clouds. She was the ride-or-die that Ellie couldn't bear a moment without. If anything she stopped her from going “Batshit crazy.”

However, their friendship seemed to fuel Ellie's rebellious streak even further. She pushed boundaries by sneaking wine and cigarettes from the nuns' quarters and regularly escaping to the nearby lake with Riley. Where, Riley patiently taught Ellie to swim, sometimes playfully pretending to dunk her underwater until they were both drenched, their laughter echoing across the water.

As they lounged on the sun-drenched grass afterward, their bodies pressed close, they shared tender, innocent kisses, their fingers intertwined in sinful affairs. "Do you ever think about leaving?" Riley's voice was soft, her smile gentle as she posed the question. Ellie shrugged nonchalantly, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Course I do….I mean…I just…wouldn’t know where to go…how to start.”

"Well, anywhere would be better than this... staying here, becoming a caregiver... I'd rather die," Riley joked, her laughter contagious. Ellie playfully nudged her shoulder. "Please! You becoming a nun? After everything? That'd be a miracle," she teased, earning a playful smack in return. Their banter faded into a comfortable silence, the weight of their shared dreams and uncertainties hanging in the air, but Riley had another thing in mind. “What if we ran?” She’d suggested dazing up into the trees.

“What do you mean?”

"What if we left... tonight?" Riley's voice was filled with excitement, her eyes shining with anticipation. "The nuns are busy with the younger kids, and David's caught up with the remodeling. If you could just... sneak into his office and grab our records, we could maybe ditch this place..." Her words hung in the air, charged with possibility, but Ellie's expression shifted to one of worry.

"What? No. Hell no, I can't do that," Ellie protested, her concern evident in her voice.

"Come on, Els! He likes you the most! Even if you got caught, what's the worst he could do?" Riley pleaded accompanied by a gentle squeeze of Ellie's hands, which inexplicably sent her heart racing, drowning out the voice of reason.

"Okay, but even then, what about money?" Ellie's practicality interjected, her mind racing with the potential consequences.

"Donations, probably somewhere in his office," Riley replied quickly, her confidence unwavering. "Come on, Ellie, it's a solid plan! Please?" she pleaded, her eyes pleading for reassurance.

Ellie's lips tugged into a shy smile, her resolve softening under Riley's relentless persuasion.

"Okay”

༺♰༻

There was a sneering chill on Ellie's skin, now pickled with goosebumps. When she finally returned to the church it was around 6 pm. The nuns were busy watching the little ones, and David was out front chatting with the two brothers giving the church a fresher layer of paint. Giving her just enough time to sneak back in with Riley still guiltily soaked from the brief escape.

"I'll grab your stuff, then we'll head out, okay? Meet me behind the chapel after." Riley whispered hastily, and Ellie nodded timidly, bidding her a silent goodbye.

Before she ventured down the chilled, dimly lit halls, her heart racing with unease as she approached David's eerie office. Thankfully, the door was unlocked, allowing her to slip inside and close it behind her in a panicked rush. Immediately darted over to his cluttered filing cabinets, frantically sorting through them for any records she could find. But just as she located her and Riley's records and shoved them into her back pocket, she heard the jingle of the doorknob and David's voice echoing through the room.

"Hello? Hey? Who locked this?! Who's in there?" His tone growing increasingly agitated as Ellie's ears picked up the sound of him retrieving a key. Racing against the clock, Ellie hurried to the window near his bookshelf, pushing it open as quickly as she could and preparing to make her escape. But she was too late. In an instant, David seized her by the hips, causing her head to collide with the window sash before she was forcibly dragged back inside.

“Damnit girl! What the hell are you doing in my office!” He sneered pushing her against the bookshelf roughly causing her to hiss in pain. “I wasn't doing anything!” She hissed in return earning a fierce glare from the man. Before his hand reached to grasp her cheeks roughly. “Don’t lie to me now! I know you got something!” He yelled in return before letting his other hand pat down her body disgustingly while she jerked. Until his hand reached over her bottom tugging the folded papers from her pocket. Causing him to dryly chuck holding them to her green eyes tauntingly. “What the hell is this Ellie hm? Where did you think you were gonna run off to? Where you really just gonna go off with that little Riley girl huh?” He questioned sternly.

“It’s better than this fucking place.” Ellie huffed glaring back at him as his nose flared with a heavy breath. “I think I've had it with your mouth little girl. And that Riley girl ain't a good influence on ya either-” David started before she quickly interjected. “She didn't do anything damnit!”

“Like I'd believe that,” He’d huff in feigned amusement. “I see the way you two girls act…even look at each other… it's sickening. And under God's roof? What happened to my little fox…” He questioned longingly, letting his calloused fingertips trail down Ellie's cheek while her jaw tightened. “I’m not anything to you, fucking perv…” She whispered.

The was a still, and horrid silence between the two. Leaving Ellie to watch David's eyes darken and his brows to furrow in betrayal. Until he slowly leaned in to whisper. “I think I outa’ set you straight.” Immediately making the girl’s heart stop in pure fear. Once she felt her back hit his desk and her wrists above her head by one of his tight gasps. Everything was so quick…so repulsive as try screamed and tried to push him off while he lewdly grinned working off his belt. “S-stop! Please! Stop! N-NO NO!!! PLEASE! STOPPP!!!” She howled earning harsh smack across the face. “Now now! You keep it down girl! I don't mind a fight but you better stop squirming or I'll make it worse!” He demanded in return.

That's when it finally kicked…Ellie wasn't a fox….but another mourning lamb….no mother to be found…left bare to the sickening reality of the world…to the vial desires of a man who vowed to be a saint….

A decent of god….

She struggled and sobbed begging to get him off, kicking and pushing as he tried to tug down her shorts. Until the door opened…

A tall man dressed in a aged flannel, and baggy sunbleached jeans supposedly thrown on. Aged but imposing, with a rugged yet undeniably charismatic countenance marred by wrinkles and gray strands infuriating his square beard. But for a fleeting moment, his eyes were wide and he stood frozen gazing upon the loathsome scene. Before he quickly closed the distance, his knuckles delivering a resounding crack to Davids's nose.

It felt good…like sun on your skin….or breath after a long mile….he was her savour…

It felt so fucking euphoric to watch…listening to the pastor's pleas and treated drown out with each blow the man threw. Leaving him barely conscious…his face battered and bruised. Painted with purple….speckled with iron droplets.

Sick fucker…

After a few deliciously blissful moments…he rose from where David laid, choked up on his blood. The stranger's knuckles, now throbbing stained in his own crimson fluids..like a grim trophy of justice. His gaze shifted back to Ellie, a now ghost of a girl. With blown green eyes blurred and irritated from her sobs and her knuckles white gripping her shorts in a still lingering terror.

“You alright kiddo?…” The older man would question in a gentle murmur. Tentatively reaching out to rub her shoulder in assurance, but only making her flinch. And all she mustered was a silent nod rubbing her tender cheek….still aching from Davids's blow.

“Tommy get in here now!” the stranger yelled out ducking his head in the window Ellie wished she escaped from. Before turning back to her with a pitiful look…Ellie resented…

“It's alright…I’ll get you out of this mess…” He whispered slowly reaching to pull her into a dreadful embrace she didn't give into….

That's when Ellie decided….there was no god….

༺♰༻

A few days later…

The ride was enveloped with a silence broken only by Joel's brief introductions. Despite Joel's attempts to welcome her…However, she wasn’t fond of it really, since she heard from his bother ‘Tommy’ that he'd lost his daughter recently. Giving Joel a replacement on a silver platter, and her an ‘abandoned kitten look’. Feral, and shaken up from the harsh world they couldn't fathom to understand. Ellie despised that look….she despised pity…and David for that matter.

She had no desire to be anyone's "little girl" again, nor did she crave novelty. She cherished the familiarity of sunny mornings and the solace of the field where she had once shared conversations with Riley until daybreak. Her heart belonged to the sketches of deer she had etched behind the church, symbols of the roots she had grown, and the passage of time she had weathered. Leaving meant abandoning these comforts, bidding farewell to Riley, perhaps with nothing more than a fleeting kiss.

And as she stared down the gravel road, as Joel led her out of her hometown. A pang of nostalgia made her feel six years old again, yearning for the return of normalcy. But fate had never been kind to her…Especially when that pastor got off scot-free….

No evidence my fucking ass…and having the nerve to put Joel in jail for assault…those bastards-

“Pretty ain't it?” His gruff voice interrupted breaking her stare. “Wyoming is just farms and grass…there really isn't much to it..” She pessimistically answered causing him to chuckle. “That’s true…but you'd be surprised how many places look like this…cities are mostly for the rich..” He added with a small smile. But Ellie couldn't return one just turning her head back to the window while the older man's lips softened.

“Well…maybe you'll grow to love it in time…”

༺♰༻

Ellie never knew how cold winters could get…or how old public schools were…or even how quite it was without Riley. But she enjoyed the fact Joel was a simple man, he believed in god. But he wasn't like David, or chapel girls. He didn't resort to violence or cult morals…He was a morally right soul…she could…be a kid…she didn't have to worry about death…and sin.

She could just be herself…

Life after leaving the church was,—though "normal" felt like a stretch for Ellie, who found solace in simple comforts. Despite Joel's shit coffee, she relished having her own room and meals that actually tasted good. Her new ‘lair’ consisted of a bedroom, complete with a boxy TV and a dusty PS3, a far cry from the institutional life of the orphanage, even if it wasn't exactly luxurious. Joel wasn’t a money-making man, the man worked in construction she really wasn’t expecting much.

And although she still bore the scars of her past, she was still a bit wary when it came to trusting Joel completely. But she couldn't deny his kindness, even if he vehemently denied it himself. Taking her to museums, letting her rant about shitty high school, even renting her books about astronomy. He oddly seemed particularly pleased with Ellie's tomboyish nature, a refreshing change from his past struggles to understand his own daughter's phases, particularly her Twilight obsession. Though, he still questioned her nature when she pleaded him to teach her hockey in long winters especially since it wasn’t a…girly sport.

"Why aren't you out with other girls from your school, cheerleading or something?" he'd grumble one afternoon, his head pounding from a long day. While Ellie, in her typical fashion, would retort while debating which action movie to watch, "Why would I hang out with preppy sluts or the pigs? I'd rather watch Kill Bill." She snorted scrunching her freckled nose. Partially trying to cover up the fact she was a bit of a loser….

"You really are an odd girl... You're tellin’ me there isn't one kid you like at school?" Joel persisted, prompting Ellie to tense up. "There's... Cat, I guess," she mumbled softly, her embarrassment palpable.

Joel simply hummed in response, not dwelling on it. "Why don't you go hang out with her then, instead of talking my ear off?" he teased, a hint of amusement in his voice. But Ellie's reaction was unexpectedly fierce, her eyes flashing as if his suggestion was outrageous. "I-I can't just... I can't just hang out with Cat!" she whined rubbing her flared cheeks.

"Why not?" Joel prodded, genuinely curious. "You just don't get it... I'm not that bold, I guess?…I don’t know Joel! It’s just weird..”

"So you can walk around this place like you're tough, but you can't talk to a girl...?" Joel's suspicion lingered in his tone. "Shut it, dinosaur..." Ellie scowled.

"Whatever you say, kiddo…”

༺♰༻

It wasn't until the approaching end of senior year that Ellie finally mustered the courage to talk to Cat, a girl she had been gwaking over since junior year. With a nudge from Jessie, who insisted she’d ask Cat out to prom. Luckily Cat found Ellie's awkward front adorable eagerly accepting. Especially since queer girls weren't a common thing in town. But the girls quickly spun into late-night dates, study sessions, and parties as the days counted down to the dance. Joel wasn't thrilled about it, but Ellie felt like she was finally living out her teenage years. Like she starred in “10 Things I Hate About You,” where her nerdy ass somehow managed to pull the gorgeous “Bianca.”

Her first real girlfriend…

And when prom night came and she was met with the pretty girl on her doorstep. She couldn't ever forget the pretty blue eyeliner and her lacey black dress, paired with the leather jacket Ellie had lent her. Along with Joel's shocked yet embarrassed look on his face when Cat greeted her with a sweet peck on the lips, his presence catching them off guard in the living room. Fortunately, Joel didn't seem to mind much, only offering a quiet plea that they refrain from such displays of affection in front of him, if only for his own dignity. Pondering the “friendship” he was proctoring those weeks.

Life was well, senior summer was lively filled with Dina, Jessie, and Cat. Traveling across Wyoming, getting tattoos, basking in the short summer of the country. Until then bitter start of fall faded in…and it was back to school…

Even if she had no interest in college she’d go for Joel’s sake. Though it seemed pretty fucking difficult seeing as expensive it’d be even for just in-state…ontop of that he didn't have much funding to send a kid to college, with his daughter gone most of his money went into his own hobbies.

Joel was retired….Ellie was grown now…she needed to get it together…

But fuck it was hard…and she was a striving pessimist… Well until she saw the checked-on scholarship offers, her eyes lighting up over the email.

“Girls hockey! Financial aid and insurance offered! See details below”

༺♰༻

Present…

“It’s fucking bullshit Joel!!” The auburnette hollared into her phone, storming out the sink early. While chilled winds brushed her cheeks as the reddened. Not exactly pleased with the news of being a rookie babysitter. When she could be spending time taking shifts at the records store, or hanging out with her lover. “It ain't that serious Ellie…” the older man grumbled annoyed with her stubborn complaints. “Are kidding?! Maria just taking in some newbie who can barely skate! If she keeps up with this bullshit we won't even reach nationals!” She cried out in frustration feeling her chest tighten. “Then it’ll be local games and t-then the team will be useless and broke and-”

“Ellie!” Joel huffed in return. “What?!”

“Now look here, you are far to old to be havin’ a goddamn tamptrom over some new girl. With that attitude I'd be surprised if you made it anywhere! But if you keep crying rather than helping this girl out what do will happen to the team?” The older man scolded causing Ellie to sture with embarrassment. “S’ still bullshit..” She retorted earning a sigh. “Just…be nice for Christ’s sake I’m sure you know what it's like to be alone…”

“Whatever….”

“And quit giving your aunt a hard time before she actually kicks from the team.”

“You know she's bluffing.” Ellie hummed, as her anger faded and her lips tugged into a cocky smirk. “Still…can you be less of a smart ass?”

“You’re killing me dude..”

“Love you too kiddo.” Joel snorrted before hanging up. Leaving Ellie to sigh in silence but there was still one thing clear….

You better not fuck up what she has…

⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧•𓆩⚝𓆪•⛧°。⋆༺♱༻⋆。°⛧

Notes!: HIIII, thank you for reading! I hope the end didn't feel tooooo rushed, I might edit a bit more later but I'm happy with this! The next chapter picks up with training 🙏 (sorry I keep writing emo shit) but i do want go make this series long so! Please give me feedback if the build up is too slow!

Taglist: @vqxen @shiimer @a-little-bit-of-everybody @bready101 @cloudywithachanceofcrisis

#Spotify #tlou2 #tlou #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #wlw #ellie x fem reader #slow burn #angst #ellie tlou #eventual smut #lbtgq #ellie x you #lesbians #angst with a happy ending #wlw concepts #wlw yearning

[deer-with-a-stick]

I wonder how many people know that Maria's animals are the Four Symbols from Chinese/East Asian mythology. Didn't pick it up until the turtle appeared but when I tell you I screamed

#the vermillion bird of the south!!! #the black turtle of the north!!! #the white tiger from the west!!! #hjklahrlkjahsdf all we're missing is the azure dragon from the east now #although now i'm curious #where did maria get this ability from? #clearly not from her very christian father #and her mother is russian #not trying to be one of those people screaming “cultural appropriation” or something i'm just curious #especially since castlevania likes to explain where things come from and why people can do magic #castlevania #castlevania: nocturne #castlevania nocturne #castlevania netflix #maria renard

[janetsnakehole02]

This is probably my last post on the whole “Liz is dead” situation but I want to talk about my great grandmother, who is currently 92 years old. When I was growing up, hell even now, she’d tell me a lot about her own stories, mostly about how terrifying life was under both the British Raj and Nizam rule (her side of my family is from Hyderabad - Google the Nizams and the Razakars if you’ve never heard about them, that’s a whole other thing of its own).

Something I remember very clearly is her telling me about this one song she was forced to sing in her school - she went to a Christian convent school - and the song was about the greatness of “George Prabhu and Mary Rani,” aka George V, Elizabeth II’s grandfather. Recently my mom was able to film her singing this song so that we could listen to the lyrics, which are originally in Telugu, and roughly translated it means “we’re singing in honor of George and Mary, who are the rulers of India and have brought great fortune to India, and we see them as our father and mother.”

This is just a really difficult reminder that when we’re talking about why Elizabeth II and the royal family don’t deserve our respect or condolences, many of us have very personal stories that run deep through our families. “But she was a mother, a grandmother, a person” and I don’t care because she and her family were in the business of dehumanizing and erasing the identities of millions of other mothers, other grandmothers, other PEOPLE. Why else would my great grandmother be forced to sing a song in their honor? “But she wasn’t responsible for India” fair enough, her darling grandfather had a great time doing that, but how about you go and talk to Kenya? Or anyone in Africa? Or the Caribbean? I’m sick and tired of being told to “not speak ill of the dead” when REALLY I and millions of others should be getting an apology from anyone who wants to “praise her legacy” and talk about how “revolutionary” she was.

edit: i got the george’s mixed up before. george v is elizabeth ii’s grandfather. george vi is her father.

#that being said #my thoughts are also w the middle and working classes of the uk who will now unfortunately have to bear the brunt of the aftermath of this #of course they’d force a ‘period of mourning’ on everyone 🙃 #anyway #ding dong the bitch is dead #queen elizabeth #elizabeth ii #george v #anti british #british royal family #british raj #british colonialism #fuck the british #fuck colonialism #desiblr #desi tumblr #desi tag #indian #india #indian independence movement #hyderabad #telangana #telugu #south india

[hardlyinteresting]

Love, Guilt and Other Wounds

Aaron Hotchner x female reader

When Aaron and his partner are taken hostage, he has to break her heart to save her life.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, a little bit of domestic fluff, mention of blood, injury (non-graphic), hostage situation, knives, cannon-compliant themes of violence, non-detailed discussion about religion (Christianity), themes of childhood abuse, please let me know if you want me to add anything else.

Word count: (less than I expected, sorry) 3.7k  Request here! | Masterlist

"Of course, I’ll hurt you. Of course, you’ll hurt me. Of course, we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence". - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Aaron isn't sure if he believes in a God or a higher power. He was taught to read scripture; and spent Sunday mornings perfecting his posture in church pews-- starched shirts and neckties pulled too tight. The preacher's sermons left him wanting-- wondering how this man of God could stand over his congregation preaching every week, and not see all the lies they were holding back. How could he not see the secrets Aaron seemed to read so clearly? At just fourteen Aaron knew who was having an affair and with whom. He could see which children feared their fathers. Every pew had another story, another family growing together, or falling apart. The hypocrisy of it all drove him mad, and he imagined standing from his seat to shout it, overwhelmed as he realized he had unintentionally become the keeper of everyone's secrets. He learned that everyone in that church was a liar in their own right, and he hated it. But, when he left for college, his mother called to ask if he was still going to church on Sundays, and he lied and said yes. 

He should have paid more attention. Maybe then he'd understand how he ended up here. Perhaps it's some sick retribution. A cosmic evening of the scales; his penance for his sins. He just wishes you weren't here with him. How dare he think he could love someone when all he's ever done is punish those who love him? His hands are stained with blood; he taints everything he touches. 

Very early on in his career, Aaron learned he couldn’t take cases personally. As devastating as it was to have another victim show up while hunting a killer, it wasn’t a personal failure. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He repeated the process again and again. Logically he knows that he is not responsible for the actions of the aggressive sociopath who is now holding the two of you hostage; but, he blames himself for not keeping you safer, for bringing you with him, and for putting you in harm's way. He knows he will not recover if you don’t make it out of here. He won’t forgive himself. 

The profile said this man would be anti-social. Physically, he’d be small in stature. It was clear he’d been sneaking up on his victims. He had been taking couples, knocking out the men with a blow to the back of the head, and then the women. It’s a method that the team had seen before, common for UNSUBs without the social ability to lure their victims, or the physical strength or confidence to attack head-on. But they had not profiled that he would escalate to taking out his targets with a taser. 

After six days in San Diego, the team finally had a lead on two rental properties in the UNSUB’s comfort zone. One was an old tyre factory, listed as a multipurpose warehouse and storage space; the other was a large storage facility in an industrial neighbourhood. Both units had been paid for in cash, both offered the privacy and space required to hold and torture two people for days at a time. The team split up, Hotch and you arranged to meet the owner of the factory space to find out more about who the renter was and gain access to the property. With no response from the owner of the second property, Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi headed over to check it out. 

The two of you had only been on the property for five minutes before Aaron had been incapacitated and taken out. He had foolishly made his way into the building while you ran back to the SUV to grab your jacket. Out cold, there was nothing Aaron could do to stop you from meeting the same fate. 

It’s not his fault. But he feels like it is as he watches you shiver from across the room. He can’t be certain how much time has passed, but it feels like hours. He can only hope that you’re being kept in the building you were attacked in, that the team will connect the dots and come and get you, but until then you’re stuck. He watches, nauseated as your eyes flutter open, and then shut again. You’re concussed, he doesn’t need to be a doctor to know that. His ears are ringing, and he’s sure the blow he took to the head has at the very least temporarily worsened his hearing. 

“Doesn’t the FBI have rules against fraternization?” The UNSUB wonders out loud, waving a knife around as he walks towards you. 

“What makes you think we’re a couple?” Hotch asks, as he tries to work his hands free from the rope that binds them behind his back, “She’s just a colleague”. 

It’s a lie. But it needs to be said. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. Buy time, shift the UNSUB’s interest away from the two of you. Ruin the fantasy.

“I think I’ve been doing this long enough to know a couple when I see a couple, Aaron,” the man taunts, obviously proud of himself. He’s feeling emboldened having taken two FBI agents, but that works in your favour. He’s getting cocky, too full of himself. It’s a level of confidence he isn’t used to having, it just gives him a higher height to fall from. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. “I think it’s time we wake your girlfriend up,” the man says, his hand gripping tightly at your hair, your head tugged back without remorse. 

Aaron resists the urge to cringe as he hears you groan, your face twisted with obvious pain as you’re rudely awakened. “She’s pretty. What’s she doing with you?” 

“I told you. She’s a colleague”. 

Your eyes are unfocused, scanning the room trying to make sense of what is going on. 

The man raises the knife, holding it to your throat. This time Aaron blinks, desperate to control his expressions and micro-expressions. In this scenario, the less he cares about you, the safer you are. 

It’s the burden of being tied to him. Time after time his love destroys people. 

The blade presses closer to your throat. Aaron controls his breathing. 

“Impressive agent Hotchner. But I’m still not convinced,” the UNSUB moves the blade but pulls your head back further. Your eyes meet Aaron’s, “Do what you’re going to do, he doesn’t care,” you say. You’re speaking to the man with the knife in his hand as much as you’re speaking to Aaron. He weighs his options, his heart pounding as he watches you hold your breath, willing the tears to leave your eyes. It’s the permission he needs but doesn’t want.  Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He knows you’re doing the same, telling him to break your heart to save your life. 

“Please, Hotc--”. 

He doesn’t let you finish, “Just shut up for once. Please,” he thinks the words cut through him more than they cut through you. Knowing his cruelty is a lie does little to soften the blow, and it breaks his heart to be the one throwing it. 

But this is all he’s good for, isn’t it? Letting people down. Surely it’s not just coincidence that so many of those who have dared to love him end up damaged. One way or another he destroys people. Who is he to say that he’s the one who is suffering when it’s he who does all the damage? 

Even as a child, he couldn’t help it. He thinks perhaps he inherited his sharpened tongue and lack of patience from his mother. She loved him in her own way but could never show it without first tearing him apart. Her biting words, and regular beatings. Prentiss had been right when she once said he was distrustful of women-- unfairly so. Not all women carry the hateful, spiteful heart his mother had. Very few had ever turned their rage at the world and their shortcomings into a personal and violent rage against him. He grew weary nonetheless. Better safe than sorry.

 At a young age, it became clear to him that there were few things, if anything, as important to his mother than appearances. On Sundays, she fussed over his clothes and his posture. She lectured him on table manners from the moment he could hold a fork. His room had to be spotless. His grades had to surpass average. Long before his brother was ever born, he learned how to live up to her expectations. But still, there was always something she could find him lacking in, an excuse to take her open fist or wooden spoon to his skin, a reason to send him to bed without dinner. He remembers crashing into the china cabinet trying to escape her one night. She was mortified on Monday when he had to walk into school on Monday with a cast around his arm. “Make sure they know this was your fault,” she told him. Perhaps I was built to fail, he had thought. She loves me and I embarrass her. I will only ever let her down. God, how disappointed she would be to see him now.  

Seconds feel like hours as the UNSUB leers expectantly. The man's mouth twists into a smile when he sees the tears forming in your waterline again. Aaron watches your fist clench presumably to distract yourself from the migraine that matches the pounding in his head, just as much as it is to pull your attention away from the hurtful lies he's about to weave. 

“You were supposed to have my back,” Arron spits with faux vitriol. “You had one job and couldn't even manage to do that”. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. 

“From the moment you showed up I knew you'd be a problem”. 

He continues to try to work his hands out from the binds. He can feel the knot loosening as he continues to buy the two of you time. “Aaron,” you beg, tears slipping down your cheeks now. 

“Following me around with some school girl crush. Look where we are now,” Aaron breathes. 

He can feel his father’s rage resting on his shoulders, as heavy as his hands were when he used to pat him on the back. It’s a quiet burning, far more silent than his mother’s anger, but it’s there and threatening him all the same. A silent shame; a fear induced by the knowledge that he’s failing but not being able to stop it. His father lived like a ghost in their home, just as Aaron has learned to haunt his life. He only ever raised his voice when he drank, but even then his hatred was self-directed. A sorrowful self-pity. A cry for help. The affairs, the gambling, the drinking; the man punished himself, stumbling home to a house with a vengeful wife, a silent boy, and a crying baby. It was a heart attack that finally killed him, but Aaron never doubted his father had stopped living long before that. 

Aaron breaks his own heart as he delivers each verbal blow. He hopes you understand. He prays that just maybe your concussion might leave the memories of this moment blurry. Selfishly, he begs you to forgive him, because he won’t forgive himself. 

He can see the way your wrists strain against your restraints. The UNSUB adjusts his grip on your hair as you struggle to distance yourself from him. Your eyelids flutter and he knows your vision must be swimming but you don’t give up. With a sadistic grin, the UNSUB wipes at the tear stain on your cheek with fake sympathy, grasping your jaw roughly he forces you to look straight at Aaron, “Poor girl… guess boss man doesn’t care about you after all. What a waste,” he sighs his breath heavy against your cheek, as he moves to hold the knife to your throat again, “She’s so pretty,” he directs his commentary at Aaron this time. 

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve slept with her. How couldn’t I when she was practically throwing herself at me?” The words taste bitter on his tongue as he speaks them. His stomach churns as he continues, “But what we have certainly isn’t love”. 

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Aaron grounds himself choosing to remember the quiet morning you two had shared only a few days earlier. Waking up without an alarm but with Jack sneaking in to jump up on the bed. As he watches you cry now he recalls how you had smiled so brightly at the little boy, ruffling his hair and cuddling Jack into your side. He had watched with a smile of his own as you bargained with his son, promising pancakes in exchange for ten more minutes of sleep on your shared day off. 

You crept into his heart so slowly he had hardly noticed. Until one day, he looked up from the bright pink sticky note you'd left on your recent report, reminding him not to work too hard; he knew, without a doubt, he was in love with you. 

For so much of his life, Aaron conditioned himself to expect a fight around every corner. He learned to make sacrifices from his happiness in fruitless attempts to keep peace. For the first time in forever he's been feeling like maybe, just maybe, he's enough. You’ve been more than patient with him; understanding his hesitance to open up to people again. You don't get upset with him for working late, but you scold him for not getting enough sleep and skipping meals. 

He smiles more. He cracks jokes the way he used to. You've helped him see the forest from the trees--  healed parts of him he didn’t know needed mending. He's tried to do the same for you. He's watched you open up and trust the team more. He's seen the way your confidence has grown and he can't take credit for your growth, but he's enamoured by the transformation just the same. 

You deserve better. You deserve better. You deserve better. The thought echoes in his head the same as it does most days. But now, it’s louder. The voice in his head matches the volume of the ringing in his ears, and the rushing sound of his pounding heart. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He fights to remind himself, but the UNSUB is laughing now. Taunting you and your emotions, and there’s nothing Aaron can do but sit there and watch. He struggles to feign indifference, watching as you continue to make yourself smaller. It’s only then that he notices that you too are working your hands out of the rope that restrains you. The UNSUB was stupid enough to tie your wrist in front of you.

Aaron’s eyes focus on the bandaid wrapped around your index finger. You cut yourself making dinner last week. He could have sworn his heart melted when you turned to him holding your hand out, blood beading already. “Aaron, where do you keep your first aid kit?” you’d asked. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pouted. “In the bathroom, the cabinet under the sink,” he’d answered with no intention of letting you go off and tend to your wound alone. Instead, he guided you down the hall, his left hand looped in a gentle hold around your wrist, his other hand on your waist. 

Once you were sat on the countertop he took great care, making sure the wound was cleaned before he bandaged it. “My hero,” you teased, leaning in for a kiss. 

A simple cut he could manage to fix. Jack promised you could use as many of his Star Wars bandaids as you wanted while you healed as well. A little love and patience could make it better, a philosophy he adopted to heal Jack’s scraped knees, and schoolyard bruises. But the sight before him now is far worse than any kitchen mishap could be. 

Your nose is still bleeding. Bruises have already begun to form, red marks turning deep purple with every passing minute. He knows that your concussion is something you'll recover from. The contact burns from where the taser touched your skin will become new skin someday soon. The cuts and scrapes will scab over and then disappear. 

Aaron worries the damage he's done can never truly be ameliorated. Your compassion is unmatched. It’s what makes you a good agent, a good partner, and someone Jack can turn to. You are forgiving. God knows you've excused enough of his behaviour. But, he doesn't deserve to be absolved of this guilt. He will carry this day around in the darkest corner of his heart; the same place he holds the memory of Haley and how he failed her. The words “what we have certainly isn't love,” will linger uneffaced by time or kind words. 

The squeak of an old door opening piques Aaron's interest. The UNSUB doesn't react. Seemingly only interested in tracing the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes are closing again. It's over now, he wants to tell you. He wants to hold you; comfort you; to apologise because you deserve to hear it anyway.

“Paul Simpson. FBI,” Morgan’s voice booms, “drop the knife and put your hands where I can see them”. Prentiss and Dave come to stand next to Morgan, their guns trained on the newly identified perpetrator. Aaron bites his tongue so hard he can taste blood-- it's all he can do to stop himself from bursting into a fit of bitter laughter. We win, he wants to say. 

Disarmed and handcuffed, Paul is escorted outside by Morgan and two members of the local police. Prentiss and Rossi make quick work of untying you and Aaron. 

“Aaron?” he can hear you mutter, breathy and quiet. 

“Yeah, I’m right here,” he promises kneeling at your side. Your eyes are glazed and unfocused as you nod and tip forward. Unconscious, your entire body falls forward into Prentiss’ arms. Aaron’s voice joins Rossi in calling for a paramedic. 

The doctors assure him that you’ll wake up soon. They dealt with his injuries quickly. Bruised ribs are the worst of his injuries. A cut at the back of his head and the taser burns were patched in only a few minutes, though he’ll readily admit he was far from a good patient. Too anxious to keep still much to the nurse’s dismay. 

You’re still asleep. A major concussion will have you out of the field for much longer than he knows you’ll be happy with. He makes a mental note to start setting aside some extra paperwork for when you inevitably start hounding him for something to do. With the lights in the room dimmed, and a comfortable silence settling he allows himself to indulge in the illusion that everything might be alright between you. 

With your hand in his, he breathes deeply trying to focus. He prays to a God he’s not sure he believes in. And when the quiet starts to get to him, he speaks out loud, as silly as he thinks he may look. He tells you about the phone call he had with Jack earlier and lets you know that Jack has a new painting he can’t wait to show you when you get home. Your hand squeezes his, encouraging him to keep talking.

“Aaron?” your eyelids flutter as you adjust to the light. The nurse had them turned to the dimmest setting but it’s still far more than you feel immediately capable of coping with. 

“Yeah, honey,” he affirms. You release the breath you’re holding your brow relaxing.  

“I love you,” you tell him. Your voice is steady and steadfast. Your resolve is impressive, unwavering and determined as you focus on making eye contact with him. “It’s not your fault,” you promise. He’s sure you don’t expect the weight on his shoulders to lighten instantaneously. You’ll tell him every day that he’s not to blame; intent on chiselling away at his guilt, shrinking it down before it manages to consume him. 

“I love you,” he swears. He knows it won’t squash any of the doubt he’s planted. Aaron knows there will soon be days that the niggling insecurity threatens to break what you’ve managed to build together; when the worry that you aren’t enough seems louder than it ever has before. He won’t blame you if you decide it isn’t worth the pain of staying with him. But, he’s hell-bent on loving you through it. He can only hope that it’s enough. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fic #hotch x reader

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐔𝐬, 𝐄𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐮𝐫𝐬 ♡

Day 31 : Trick Or Teat

【Synopsis】 : The dead of night, creatures hide. In the light of a fire, those same creatures can become more.

『Word count』 :  7.01k

-> Genre: Supernatural. Smut. Angst. Fluff.

Paring: Yungi x Reader | Seonghwa x Reader [Eventual ot8 x Reader] 

[Warnings] : Self hatred. Abusive family. toxic family. Cult-like religon. Myths and supernatural concepts. The reader is giving off Genderfluid in some parts [not me projecting whoops]. hints of sexual abuse. Blood. Gore. Dark themes. Blood drinking. Kissing. Swearing. All the boys have a corruption kink cause why not. Fingering. Seonghw has a bit of a superiority complex. Details of torture and killing people. Unprotected sex. Yunho and Mingi are little shits. Eheh

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Surprise!! This is the very first chapter and introduction to my new mini series I'll be writing. I know a lot of you have been wanting Vampire Ateez ot8x reader for a while, and I've been trying to find a good story, and i finally got one, hehe. Also, I wanted to make this fic extra long as well to say thank you for 4k followers. I still want to do an event, but I'm taking a little break first, so I hope this is okay for now.

I LOVE YOU ALL ♡♡♡

Check out the mini series masterlist -> [coming soon]

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Part Two

The Destiny Castle was filled with darkness and death. Guard dogs, the size of cows and strange beastly noises echoing in the forest surrounding. And warnings to anyone that enters the ground will never be seen again. Well, that's what the priest of your village says over time and time again. Blabbering about how god left the family that lived in the castle many centuries ago when they invited night-crawling creatures inside. Ones that drink blood and care little for the human race.

Vampires.

You sighed under your breath for the fifth or sixth time this evening as the sermon read on the large dusted book in front of him. Your hands were beginning to ache from having them clasped together for so long. Why were you even praying? It's not like you believe any of this bullshit. Yes, granted, some of it might sound true, and you had doubts on multiple occasions whether this man in the sky was, in fact, real or not. But did you really want to stick around and find out? When you die and you go to hell, so be it. You weren't scared of where you ended up. You were more scared of wasting your life away. Not finding the adventure you so desperately craved. But your picture-perfect parents with their picture-perfect kids shall have no such dreams. No such idea of living other than to tend to the market stall and be married to yet another picture-perfect family.

You felt your mother's god-awful stare as she clearly heard you sigh yet again. You hated her the most. Always finding new and improved ways to punish you for "your sins." Like rolling your eyes or talking back to a man. Or worse, not showing any signs of being a good future housewife so when she's finally ready to sell you off—oh I'm sorry, give you away—to some rich Christian suitor to be your husband. You could be the perfect version of yourself for her.

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.

You hated that fucking word. A loud bell chime caught your attention, signalling that Sept was finished with his blabberings for the evening. So you stood up straight, your annoyingly over-layered dress before turning on your heels to leave.

"Oh wait, Dove. Come here, please." Your mother's overfaked and sugary sweet tone rattled in your ears. The use of the nickname Dove also annoyed you. Dove, meaning white pure bird that is trapped in a golden cage. Everyone had called you that since you were born, most people in the village not even knowing your real name, only know this nickname.

Why, you may ask?

Simple, your mother hated your name. You were named after your father's mother, who she hated. But it was tradition to name your firstborn after the father's mother, so here you were. Not only were you a disappointment to your mother, but you also bore a name that resembles hatred. Lucky you.

"This is Lucas Wheeler. He's Mary and Robert's Eldest son." Your mother's voice buttered up the introduction, leaning in with an absolutely disturbingly fake smile that everyone seemed to fall for. You turned your lip slightly, making a poor attempt to smile, which your mother did not approve of. "Luca, darling, this is my daughter."

His grin was wide and overexaggerated. His tunic was buttoned all the way up to his Adams apple, looking as if it was constricting his airflow. And his hair was perfectly brushed back. He was the definition of a good pure religious boy. A book nerd. You couldn't hide your disgust as he licked his lips, eyeing you like some piece of flesh. You knew what he was hiding. That filthy lust that men seemed to only be forgiven for. He has probably dreamed about shoving his cock in every woman that passes him and he was definitely only thinking about his needs while staring at you. Not marriage, not husband duty. No, the sole idea of finally getting his little dick wet was driving him crazy. And it made you want to chuck your guts up all over his clean shoes.

"You seem to have such a um, polite daughter here, Christine. She seems shy?" Lucas's mother, Mary spoke up trying to take a look at you but you kept your face pointed to the ground. You didn’t want to be there and you weren't about to fake a smile for a family you did not need to know. you wanted nothing more than to slip away and become invisible like you always did in these types of situations. But turning twenty has now made you in the public eye. Twenty and without a husband was rare. Normally women in your village were betrothed at sixteen and married at eighteen. But you have managed to wheezle your way out of it from your parents being too worried about your younger sisters. But you’ll be twenty-one soon and your mother, Christine was becoming impatient.

“She is a shy one. Sweet too. Micheal and I have been trying to find the perfect man for her, but her shyness seems to not be a lucky charm.” Your mother battered, throwing a sweet chuckle making Lucas’s parents laugh.

“Well, how about you both come over? Bring all your kids, for dinner. I’m sure my Luca would love to get to know her.” Mary pinched Lucas’s cheek making him push away slightly.

“Yes. I’d love to know more about your daughter. I’m sure we will be able to entertain one another while you get dinner ready.” his dark words made your stomach turn and flip. Now you were definitely going to be sick.

“It’s settled then. We will see you at sundown.” Your mother bid goodbye tugging you away by your arm out of the church, not letting you go for a second. Knowing you’d just run off the first chance you got.

-

Night came quicker than you would have liked and no matter how hard to tried to slip away your mother made sure that one of your sisters was always with you, ready to shout if you tried to bail. What was this some type of house imprisonment? You didn’t want to go, that was more than clear. But your mother couldn’t care less and your father well it was ‘whatever mother says goes’. so you were alone in the more honest terms. Your brothers were too young to know any different, your sister who is only two years younger than you was a cutout of your mother. And your little sister was daddy's little girl. She didn’t care about anything but her daddy.

What a perfect family you seem to have. Everyone fitted in somewhere but you. You were the experiment. The first batch of cookies to come out of the oven that no one touches cause they were too burned or not fully cooked.

“Come on we are going to be late.” Your mother's voice rang through the house, your sister's eyes not leaving you. She had muttered something before heading for the door. You had told her you just needed to put on some garments before meeting her downstairs. She was hesitant for a moment thinking this was a plan to escape but you had said that there was no time now and what would be the point. Sensing your defeat she left you alone. Finally.

You pull on some pants under your dress, hating having to wear such feminine clothing. It wasn’t that you were against wearing dresses or lace or even frills. It was more that sometimes you wanted pants. Was that so bad? You sighed putting all the clothes your sister had pulled out for you to try on, on the end of your bed. That was later you’s problem. You noticed your book laying on your pillow making you swear under your breath. Tucking it back under the sheets you wonder if your sister saw it. You hopped not, if she saw what you wrote or worse what you drew, she’d be telling the church to burn you at the stake.

You ran down the stairs quickly, not wanting to waste any more time, hoping that if you go over and get this night over with you can come back home and hide away in your room, wishing you were anywhere other than with this family.

-

This night seemed okay as far as talking about our lord and saviour over supper was. Mary was busy finishing up the final dish, letting Lucas and your parents laugh over a blessed bottle of wine. They had sent you and Lucas away to, get to know one another and Lucas had to perfect idea to show you his barn. A place where ‘he could be himself’. God, everything he says annoys you. Climbing the old rusty ladder, you stand in an empty hay loft. Your gut felt strange, like your body was warning you of something but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Until you felt a hand grip your shoulder softly but tight enough to make you freeze.

His breath was so close, pooling on your neck. fingers were ghosting along your corset strings making tears build in your eyes. Even though he was a little boy in your mind. He was much bigger than you and he could easily take advantage of you if you didn’t play your cards right. So you had to act. “And what might we get up to here hmm…”

His chuckle sickened you. “Well, we have some time before mother calls. So I thought we get to know each other. Just like our families wanted.” he pulled away, making a grunting sound behind you. You turned slowly to see he was sitting on a blanket that had been laid out on some hay. Was this disgusting excuse of a man really thinking he could charm you into sleeping with him? God, his ego was bigger than you thought. You giggled, waltzing around the small room pretending to think but in truth, you were looking for an exit. You could go down the ladder but he’d probably grab you before getting that low. Maybe over the side onto the beams. He won't be able to get to you then. But then you’d be trapped until you eventually have to climb back over. And you know he’s the type to wait you out.

A window. Probably leads onto the roof. Not practical but if you recall you did see a bunch of hay bails just outside so if you jump you’d be able to land on them. And a broken ankle or wrist was better than….”Where is your mind wondering, baby? Do I scare you?”

Your head snaps back to him, giving him a small smile. “Oh, no…no…” You step closer, looking him deep in his eyes. “you don’t scare me…baby…” You stood right above his laying figure, his legs spread, enough for you to place a foot in between them. A grim smirk painted his unpleasant features. he went to sit up and you used this as your now or never, kicking him right in the balls without another thought. His groan was loud, knowing if it weren't for how far you were from the house. Everyone would have heard.

“You little bitch!” You ran for the window, crawling out as quickly as you could. The top of your dress got caught on a nail ripping the fabric. But you didn’t waste any time to cry about broken material, looking for the hay bails. It wasn’t as high of a jump as you thought, sliding down the straw, making some of it get caught in your dress. You could hear Lucas groaning in the distance as you started to run. Run fast and run far.

You needed to go home. Quickest route is through the forestry back towards the centre of the village before turning off from the church. Jump Mr Smith's fence and climb the vines into your room. Simple enough. But it's dark, a little too dark and all you could hear was your heartbeat in your ears and rabid footsteps in the distance. The forest was thick. Trees tightly snug together. You almost tripped several times over branches and roots. Your heart was racing now, panting as your mind was becoming hazy. Need to get home. Need to get home.

“Ohhhh Little Dove, where are you.” Lucas’s deep sinister voice echoed through the dark forest. He was too close, you needed to stop. Hide. Maybe he’d go past you or head back. “Come out, baby. We were just having some fun.”

Quiet. Be silent. don’t move. Not a mucsle.

He called your name this time your real one making you gulp. His voice was maybe two or three trees away from where you stood. A twig snaps and you feel tears in the corners of your eyes. He was so close it was like you could still feel his breath. “Come on princess...” His hand wrapped the tree you were standing against and everything stopped. You closed your eyes thinking for a moment, trying to play thousands of scenarios of how you could get away. But nothing would work. He caught you. He danced the bend, slipping right into your view. Before you could run his hand gripped your throat making you freeze. “Don’t worry baby. I don’t bite.”

His words were short... sinister, like he had achieved his ultimate goal of capturing his prey. Your eyes widened going to spit back a comment but your words caught in your throat as you saw a figure suddenly appear behind Lucas. Tall, dark. Red eyes glowing through the night. Everything happened so quickly, the beast grasped Lucas the same way he had you, pulling him back with fright. “But I do…”

The creature's fangs pierced the disgusting man's neck making him scream out a noise that would make your blood curdle. His grip dropped from you, trying to scratch and fight off the larger figure. You took this moment to run, not even caring if the creature was going to kill him or not. All you knew was you needed to run. But you couldn’t run home anymore. There’s blood on your hands literally, Lucas’s blood splattered on you. If this wasn’t a perfect situation the priest was looking for to burn you at the stake you don’t know what is. “Hey, this way.”

You physically jump hearing a high-pitched voice cooe at you through the wind. It was a hooded figure, and normally you would of not gone with a stranger but in this case it seemed fair. You followed the person who seemed to be always a few steps ahead of you at all times no matter how hard you tried to catch up. It was only then, when you stopped focusing on the person to look around you noticed they were leading you to the castle grounds. Where myth reads vampires inhabit. That must have been what got Lucas.

A blood sucking vampire.

You stopped in your tracks not knowing to go back or forward. It’s not like vampires scared you per se. It was just. You were human and they are beasts. They would certainly eat you before you could plead your case. But one of them saved you right? That’s what it was doing? Not just finding two humans and deciding to have a late-night snack right….

“Hey over here.” The figure called for you again but when you looked up everything suddenly went black.

-

Your head was ringing. Heartbeat thumping slowly in your ears. Black splotches clouded your vision as you tried to look around. You were in a room. A Billiard room, to be exact. You have never seen a room of such a size. The bottom of your house most definitely fitting in this room alone. The leather under your fingers felt expensive, seeing the brown with bubbled texture. It was lavish, elegant—

"Beautiful, isn't it." A smooth voice swayed your attention, having caught you admiring the fine fabrics of the furniture. Your eyes locked with deep crimson ones. He was like nothing you've ever seen before. He was stunning, tall, and broad. You had to gulp at the sheer beauty of the man. But you knew he wasn't just a man. From his eyes, you knew he was a beast, a night crawler.

"Are you going to respond? Or are you more of a staring type?" Another voice scared you slightly. Looking to your left, you see another man, but he was sitting on the couch next to you. His black undercut fitted his features perfectly. He kind of sounded like the hooded figure that was helping you get away before...

"Definitely the quiet, staring type." A cheeky tone to your right. He was leaning on the pool table, his Cheshire cat grin painting his features smugly.

So there's three of them that live here?

"Now now, Woo, San. She's probably just scared." A shorter but beefier male suddenly stood next to the first one that spoke. He wasn't even looking at you, mostly paying attention to the two he called Woo and San. You were now sitting straight up, moving your gaze from each of them. As they were all in their own worlds arguing about why you might not be talking.

"You're bleeding, Tiny?" A voice growled behind you, startling you. You turned to see two very big men standing behind the couch. "When did you cut yourself?" He dragged his two fingers through your wound, making you hiss, pulling away from him.

He put one of his fingers in his mouth, closing his eyes as if he were savouring the taste. Once he was done, he placed his other bloody finger in the male next to him, mouth. The other man groaned his eyes, glowing a harsher red as he stared you down. "You taste delicious, Sugar."

You went to stand, trying to get away from them, but your legs gave out, making you fall forward in front of the high-pitched boy who still sat on the other couch. "Be careful, Dollface. Don’t want ya gettin hurt."

"Okay, let's give her some space. Wooyoung, take San down to the kitchens and see if dinner is ready yet. Mingi and Yunho can go set the table." The one that stood at the door, the first man directed all the men with ease. They will followed without another word, heading for the door. "And for the love of Lillith, Jongho, can you please find your lover and Hongjoong. I think they were still cleaning up from..." He looked at you briefly. "Dealing with that disgusting human."

You knew he was talking about Lucas, and that meant this Lover boy or Hongjoong had been the one you saw ripping through Lucas's neck. They all left soon after, leaving you alone with the dominant man. You managed to sit back on the couch, but you wanted, needed to stand. So you tried your luck again, and your knees buckled, making you slip forward, but instead of making an impact with the ground, two large arms were wrapped around your waist. Your hands gripped the creature's biceps, feeling his muscles taught and tense. "You do need to be careful, Darling."

Unlike Lucas's or any man, you've ever met really. These creatures don't seem to set off any of your alarms. You didn’t know if that was a bad thing or not, but you chose to brush it off, ‘cause in the end, you had never felt such kindness from anyone in the village. You were out-casted, unloved. You might as well be the witch they all wanted you to be. The kind smile that painted his features made your heart skip. He was indeed handsome. You finally spoke up saying who you were and the man looked at you with surprise before laughing. “Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Seonghwa. It’s nice to meet you…”

Your name rolled off his tongue so beautifully. No one had ever used it to address you before. It was almost strange, foreign even. “Honestly you could call me anything. I was never called that name sadly.”

Seonghwa hummed in response, still holding tight on you. In truth, he knows much more about you than he leads on. When he and the others go on hunts he had found you a year ago. Ironically you were having your nineteenth birthday. On your own of course. He remembers the way you spoke to yourself, wishing yourself a happy birthday while you drew in your book. Your feet were in the cool water of the watering hole in the forestry just outside the village. You went there almost every second day. And so did he.

There was something about you that caught his eye. Caught all of the boy's eyes. You were special but none of them could put their finger on it. So of course when they found you running for your life from a disgusting man. They couldn’t stand by and let anything happen to their precious little human.

-

Dinner was quick as you just sat there and ate in silence. The others were loud though, making it seem almost normal. Like everything that was happening was something you all were used to already. Seonghwa had told you about all the boys and what all their names were. It took you a moment to put names to faces but once you got it. It was easy. Seonghwa never left your side. Making sure you were safe and comfortable. You appreciated it, understanding it must have been weird to have a human walking around. But you quickly learnt that all the maids and butlers were human. They got paid and some even lived on the estate.

Everything the village said about vampires and creatures in general was so wrong. And secretly you always wanted it to be wrong. So you were glad they weren't purely just bloodsucking beasts. But every now and then that face you saw popped into your head. You still didn’t know which one killed Lucas. And on top of it, this Hongjoong and Yeosang—Seonghwa had told you his name—were nowhere to be found.

“Okay well, sun will be up soon. Let’s get ready for bed.” Seonghwa again spoke up, dying down the chatter. It was like he took on a motherly role in the house. It was cute.

“Come Sugarcube. Yunho and I will show you to your room.” The one named Mingi flashed you a smile making you smile in response. Bidding Seonghwa goodnight or would It be morning now? Mental note to look out for a clock. The halls were lavish and carpeted, matching all the rooms you’ve seen thus far. Everything was perfect, vintage and beautiful. Yunho and Mingi had caught onto your mind wandering and had stopped for a moment, seeing how far you’d walk without them near you. You were very cute to them. Like a clueless bunny, with wide innocent eyes.

“Hey, Tiny. Your room is over here.” Yunho’s far voice snapped you out of your thoughts making you turn around to see both large men. Their arms crossed, with big grins. Your face was redder than a tomato in seconds making them both groan at how you waddle back quickly. Cute. Too cute. “This is where you’ll be saying. We’ll try and get some of your personal things tomorrow.”

“Yeah, Hongjoong had said something about grabbing some stuff while your family are out tomorrow.” Mingi rubbed the back of his neck as you slipped past both men to look into the huge spacious room. Only hours ago you were about to be married off to some pig and live on his farm until your death to now staying with not one but eight vampires.

And what was worse. You couldn’t go back. Not that you’d want to that is. But still, all your life you’ve known one thing and now… “You okay Tiny? Not the style you like? We have like ten other rooms if you want to-No it’s okay it’s just…” You cut Yunho off before taking a seat on the olive green and black silk sheets that lay on the large king bed.

“Did…Did Lucas die?” You don’t understand why you were asking about that pig but you needed to know. You needed to know would your parents found his mangled body and thought the beast that did that also killed you. Or would they think you did it? Yunho sat on his knees in front of you, placing his large hands on your thighs in a comforting manner. His smile was soft and his fingers grazing on your exposed skin was gentle.

“No. Yeosang left him alive. But he won't be wanting to live with the way he looks now.” You don’t know if Yunho’s words made you feel better or worse.

“Hongjoong helped him drag him back to that barn. His parents found him and they are looking for you at the moment.” Mingi revealed, knowing you’ll just keep asking questions so there was no reason to hide anything from you.

“Do my parents think I’m dead?” Deep down you knew they’d be happy either way. Dead, alive. Murderer or innocent. Your family would plead their sob story about the monster you were regardless of the truth.

“No…Lucas told them you ran. They think you were a part of it. Luring him out there for your vampire lover to have a meal.” Yunho felt disgusted with himself for repeating what Hongjoong had told them your parents said. But what else should they do?

“Vampire lover….hmm.” You smiled, starting to laugh. That’s what they probably thought you were sneaking off to at random hours of the day or night. Both of the men looked at one another with confusion, letting Mingi sit down next to you.

“Something funny with that Sugarcube?” Mingi’s voice was so deep, velvety. It made your core tingle and heart race. You looked up at him with tears in your eyes, but still giving him a smile.

“My mother has wanted nothing but to pin some devilish thing on me and now she gets it. Something that said I did not serve the lord. Argh…” Tears ran down your cheeks “Fuck the lord. Why should I have to care what an old man did for humanity?! I just wanted to paint. Find adventure. Not marry and be a baby maker for some lowlife pig.” All your pent-up anger. All your disappointment. Every single thing you wished to say to your mother was pouring out, in front of two vampires you had only met hours ago now. It felt like a weight being pushed off your chest and you were no longer drowning. Mingi’s hand rubbed circles on your lower back making you fall into his embrace, letting him hold you while Yunho straightened up so he could hold you as well. They were beasts that could drain you in seconds yet they held you like they’ve known you for years. They listened as if they cared. They spoke as if you were the most important person in the world. why?

“There, there baby. It’s okay. You’re free now. You can do anything you want.” Yunho’s voice was quiet almost barely above a whisper. But still still heard him. You pulled away letting them still hold you but you could wipe your face. You can do anything? No one has ever said that to you.

“Well...I guess since this my first time of freedom…” You had both the vampire's attention now with your words. “I want a bath. One with lots of bubbles.” You’ve never had such a thing in your life only settling for quick showers or sharing bathing pools with your siblings. Not something lavish. Mingi laughed a deep hearty laugh. As if you couldn't get any more cute, there you went.

“I think that’s a perfect idea Sugar. We’ll get one of the maids to fix one up for you. And…” He placed his hands on either shoulder pushing you towards Yunho. Your face inches from him. Mingi inspected the wound of your shoulder blade noticing it was already closing but blood was still pooling out of it slowly. “Get this wound cleaned up…”

His tongue licked a strip upwards, following the wound. You hiccuped feeling a slight sting from him. Yunho however distracted you by giving you a kiss. Your eyes were wide and confused. He… he was kissing you. His soft lips moved slowly against yours. His tongue dipped around your bottom lip, testing the waters. Perfectly distracting you from Mingi cleaning your cut with his mouth. Your blood tasted unlike anything he had ever tasted before.

“You taste amazing… fuck.” Mingi mumbled against you while Yunho’s tongue slipped into your mouth as you groaned. Your mind was spinning like crazy, your hand finding place on Yunho biceps, digging your nails in his cold flesh.

“Y…Yuyu..” You tried to speak, finally making both men pull away, leaving you to gasp for air.

“Sorry tiny. Your lips were just too kissable not to.” Yunho chuckled licking his lips of the saliva you left behind on them. Your heart was pounding, feeling such excitement but also a tinge of fear…

“Tha… that was my first kiss..” You felt embarrassed to say so but you felt compelled to tell them. Which made both of them growl. Mingi’s fingers wrapped in your tattered dress hem while Yunho rubbed his hand over his face.

“Fuck. I was your first kiss baby?” Yunho felt so proud of himself.

“Damn Yunho the others aren't gonna be happy when they find out,” Mingi spoke as if you were no longer there.

“Wait why would the others care?” You suddenly felt small, seeing hunger in both their eyes. You had no idea what these men were planning, nor what they all wanted from you. It frightened you. But not as much as it excited you.

-

The bath was filled with bubbles, vanilla scent soap and soft music from a vinyl. You could have stayed in there for hours but when one of the maids came in to help you dress your wound you knew it was time to get out. The nice maid named Minnie had brought you some sleepwear, soft silk sleep shorts and a singlet. You have never felt such soft fabric before always getting hand-me-downs or second/third hand clothing.

“You look cute.” A gentle voice echoed from the door of your room. You hummed, blush burning your cheeks. Turning you see Seonghwa leaning against the door frame, bottom lip between his teeth as he eyed you, not even trying to hide that he was checking you out.

“Thanks…” You played with your fingers, standing there awkwardly as you watched Seonghwa close the door, slowly moving towards you. Like he was stalking you. No doubt Yunho and Mingi had run off bragging what they had done when you were busy bathing. God, if this was going to become a new normal you were going to develop a headache from your head spinning.

“I wanted to check on you.” For every step he took, you took one back, like a little dance until your back was firmly against the wall and his body almost flushed against you. “I heard Min and Yun had some fun with you.”

“I-..Yunho kissed me…Mingi he uh…” You felt so flustered, fanatically looking around the room feeling embarrassed about spilling what you had done even though you knew the two giants would have told everyone by now. He put his fingers on your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling on it slightly.

“I was kinda hoping to be the first to taste you. But then again, none of the boys tend to listen.” His eyes were hooded, looking at you with such hunger. He could feel your heart race against the pad of his thumb. He can hear your blood pumping quicker than normal. And your eyes never left his. His face inched closer, and then some. Seeing just how close he could get to you before you’d pull away but you didn’t, not even flinch. “Have you done anything like this before?”

You shook your head no slightly. “Have you ever touched yourself, Bunny?” his question made your face become redder. This was filthy, dirty, something you were supposed to be sworn away. And man did defying god feel intoxicating. You whispered no, making him close his eyes with a sigh for a moment. So innocent, so cute… So his to taint. “Do you want me to touch you, Bunny?”

“Yes…” You whisper… He tucked a piece of damp hair behind your ear making you shiver as his fingers grazed your skin. His cold tips slide along your cheek, down to your neck, before pushing gently on your man artery feeling your hot blood pump under his digits.

“I could drain you dry right now. Or fuck you full? Maybe both? Hmm?” His lips brushed against yours but not enough to seal his lips on yours. No, he wanted you to do it, he needed you to do the first move. So he knows you do in fact want it. And you gave him exactly what he wanted, leaning up to lock your lips to his. His one hand cupped your face to deepen the kiss while his other, snaked down to play with the hem of your shorts. Your legs spread instinctively, giving him access to do whatever he pleases. His wet tongue danced with you making you feel all kinds of filthy.

You had almost gotten a man killed, ran away from home. Most likely been shunned for life from your village and on top of that kissed two men that both happened to be undead creatures you only just met, while another drank from one of your open wounds. If was indeed sins, you might as well be sent down to Lillith herself on a golden platter.

“Come on Bunny, let’s get you comfortable.” He pulled away picking you up by your thighs before walking over to your bed and laying you down on the plump mattress. His lips trail down your cheeks, then your jaw until he stops at your neck for a moment rubbing his nose along your jugular. “God I can smell your blood through your soft skin.” he sighs, drawing his fangs out.

“H-Hwa p-please…” You bucked your hips against his hardening length, spreading your legs further so he could get closer if that was possible. He chuckled, darkly. Fang pressing just hard enough to pierce your skin a little bit so a few drops of blood would spill out. He licked your blood up, trying not to get any on the bed sheets. Your whimpers were music to his ears, and your taste was heavenly. Now he’s wondering how else you taste in other places. “Fuuckk.”

The feeling of his fangs and the was his fingers play with your short made your head cloudy. His hand slipped into your shorts cupping your core making you suddenly aware what was happening. His mouth finally left your neck, kissing down the exposed parts of your chest. He was worshiping every part of your body sending your skin on fire. “Such a pretty bunny. I can feel heat pooling out of you. Do you find my devilish charms that intoxicating bunny?”

You squirmed, needed more. His index finger slide along your slit making your mouth open into an ‘o’ shape. Your eyes shut tightly, finally feeling some kind of relief that you were searching for. The pleasure was new, and strange, making you feel like you were in a whole another world. Seonghwa kept whispering sweet nothings to you as he slowly pushes a finger inside your drenched cunt. It was steady at first until he found a rhythm, inching yet another finger inside making your brows knot together. His name fell from your lips on repeat like some kind of broken vinyl, he knew he could get you close to your high without much effort given you have never felt such a feeling before. And with only a few more moments you were clenching around his digits, coming underdone while he stared at you intensely, watching every one of your features move and contort in the pure ecstasy he was gifting you. “Did that feel good baby? I can make you feel even better, all you got to do is say yes.”

“Yes, please Seonghwa. Please. Make me feel like that again. I wanna feel good.” You don’t know why your mouth started spilling such filth but you couldn’t care, not when you were so close to feeling a pleasure you have only wondered about in those lewd novels Miss Smith had down the path. She had let you borrow one and it had changed your life forever. Seonghwa got to work, pulling your shirt off above your head and tugging down the rest until it slipped off your ankles in one swoop of his wrists. You were completely bare for him. He could see all the sun-kissed spots. All the scars, and beauty marks. He could see the bruises of a handprint on your collarbone and other smaller ones littering your legs and arms.

Pathetic human. Digusting pig.

Fuck, does he wish that Yeosang and Hongjoong hadn’t kept him alive now. But then again giving him a swift death would have been too merciful. No, Seonghwa would want to keep Lucas in a cell, locked away for weeks. No food, barely any water. Watching him starve. Watch him beg for death. But Seonghwa would never give it to him. Lucas would welter away in the dungeon, cold, scared, and alone. Just as you felt when you were being chased by him. Just as you felt when he had put his hands on you. Seonghwa would make him pay.

“H-Hwa…” You sat on your elbows having seen the vampire's mind wander. Was he okay? Was he second-guessing his actions? Seonghwa was quick to disregard any of your fears as he shed himself off his shirt, before sliding off the bed to pull his pants down. They dropped to the floor with an audible ‘oof’. You didn't mean for your eyes to immediately gaze down at his fully grown erection but its angry red tip had caught your attention. Seonghwa didn’t mind one bit though, he admired your body in the meantime, letting you get a good look at him while he did the same to you. “That can’t fit inside me….”

Seonghwa laughed, physically laughed at your abrupt statement. “Oh don’t worry. It will.”  he yanked one of your legs making you gasp. He stood tall at the end of your bed, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your slit, gathering up some of your cum to use as lubricant. The whole time his eyes never left yours. He wanted to see the pleasure pooling in your eyes when he entered you inch by inch. And as you bit your bottom lip, you tried your damned hardest to keep your gaze open. “That’s it, baby. Breath…”

The stretch was painful, to say the least. Even though Seonghwa had used his fingers on you, it still wasn’t enough to fully prep you for his girth. He rubbed circles in your hips, trying to settle the pain as much as he could, noticing your fingers had entangled in the silk sheets, with your knuckles turning lightly white.

“Ffuckk, hngmm Seong.” you mumbled, finally feeling him enter you fully, his groin flush against you. He stayed still for a moment, letting you catch your breath but man was it hard. The way you clamped around him, sucked him in for more. It made him want nothing more than to pound the living shit out of you. But patience. He needed patience. And luckily out of all the boys, he owned the most patience.

“Can I move Darling?” His words were a stutter, laying with groans and sighs. You nodded your head before responding with a quick and quiet ‘please’ letting him draw his cock until only the tip was inside you then smashing back in, knocking the wind out of you. You could no longer hold yourself up, falling onto your back. Seonghwa watched as your breasts bounced in time with his thrusts and how your thighs were clamped snugly around him. You felt amazing, looked eternal. And you were finally his.

He dreamed about what your cunt might feel like wrapped around his cock. Or how might your blood taste when you are in the middle of being fucked. Firty thoughts had always seemed to riddle his mind whenever he saw you and now he could finally get the answers. But one thing is for sure. He has no idea how he is possibly going to share you with the others. When he is going to be craving you permanently.

-♥︎

#ateez #ateez smut #ja3hwa #ateez scenarios #ateez reaction #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenario #ateez mingi #ateez poly #ateez seonghwa #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x reader smut #ateez fic #atz reactions #atz smut #atz fluff #atz drabbles #atz hard hours #atz imagines #atz scenarios #atz x reader #atz fanfic #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #ateez vampire au #vampire!ateez

[norrisleclercf1]

Little Traitor

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Wolff!Reader

Requested: Yes/No

Request: Hello there, I was thinking of a Max x Wolff!reader. She and Toto doesn’t have a great relationship because he was so focused about F1 that he started forgetting her (birthdays, holidays etc.). Her and Max met when they where young and has stayed in contact, even starting a relationship. Anyways they get caught by some rando (media or fan) and She and Toto get in a fight. Red Bull team is very supportive and makes her one of them.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Stalking mentioned, Christian is actually nice, Toto is a dick, daddy issues

Part 2: Little Backstabber

It was no secret in F1 that you are Toto Wolff's daughter from his first marriage. Everyone thought he dotted on you like he does, Jack, and you let people believe that, but it was far from the truth. He didn't pay you any attention.

He didn't mean for it to happen, but when Lewis started to win repeatedly, he forgot about you. First, it was your birthday. It landed on a race, and you let it go when he called to apologize for not wishing you a happy birthday. But, he started to forget more important dates, your middle school graduation, holidays, high school graduation....even college graduation.

You kept brushing it off, but it has strained your relationship significantly, but you always put on that smile around cameras and acted like everything was okay and perfect.

When you were at the track, it wasn't for your father; no, it was for a World Champion, not the one your father wanted. But one of his biggest rivals.

Max and you met when you were both young, maybe 12-13 years old, and stayed in touch, even evolving into more than friends. Late-night talks turned into late-night kisses, and sleepovers turned into doing more than just sleeping. You hated hiding this from the world, but you both agreed it was for the best.

Max was well aware of your strained relationship with your father and knew that you'd need to keep this relationship hidden if you wanted anything to do with Toto. He hated it. He wanted everyone to know you were his and he was yours, but he kept it tight-lipped out of respect for you.

"Honestly, I'm tired of hiding." You whisper softly one night. It was a warm Baku night as you both walked around the city, enjoying its life and the people living their lives.

"What?" Max was shocked to hear your confession. He knew how serious and badly it would go if word got out about him dating the Mercedes Princess.

"I'm tired of it all, Max. I don't care if Dad isn't happy with it or if it breaks our relationship this time, I don't want to hide anymore." Your hand squeezes his as Max nods, kissing your head.

Unknown to both of you, someone was already one step ahead and working on the year's drama with one single article. The following day, you feel Max's arm tighten as he still sleeps, but your phone vibrates as you reach for it. Sleep-covered eyes squint as you read the notification.

Mercedes Princess? More Like Verstappen's Queen. Get the inside scoop on how the Mercedes Princess falls from grace and into the arms of her biggest rival.

"No, no, no, no! Oh god, NO!" You scream, covering your mouth as you scroll through the article, pictures upon pictures of you and Max through the years.

Max sits up quickly, hearing your frantic yells, and looks around, pulling you into him, worried someone was in here when they should be.

"Snoepje? What's wrong?" His voice thick with sleep as he starts to wake up fully. He freezes, seeing the tears run down your face, and snatches your phone as he stares in disbelief.

It starts with your first date, to your first kiss, and fucking he'll even your first night together. Of course, those photos didn't show it; it was clearly implied when it highlighted the different appearance of his girlfriend the following day. Max reads the article, his grip on you tightening with quiet anger as it deeply details your relationship and how you kept it hidden from your father.

"Fuck, baby, I-" He closes his mouth, unsure what to say to you. How does he apologize for this, for this blatant invasion of privacy.

"He's going to see this. He's going to" You stop before swallowing; it feels like knives going down your throat.

"It's okay; listen, let me get rid of this article first. This is so beyond the line of privacy; I mean fuck, they had to be stalking us." Max seethes tearing out of bed and shoving on sweatpants.

You sit in bed, mind reeling at what you should say to your father, how you will face everyone, or even in public. Grabbing your phone, you hit trends and see you trending number 1; you itched to click on your name, but you are terrified of all the hate you'll see. Instead, you focus on Max's voice, the anger and hurt he felt on the phone, knowing he was probably talking to Christian.

Max walks back into the room and shakes his head. "They're going to do everything they can to get rid of the article, but-" "It's already out there." You finish for him making Max nod his head, sitting across from you.

"If you want to go home, I understand." He whispers, making your head snap up.

"I'm not leaving you. Are you kidding me? Max, if I left now, that'd only make things worse, Dad.....the fans....it'll be a blood bath." You whisper, hanging your head again, grabbing Max's hand and squeezing it.

"No, I don't want to expose you to this part. I'm used to it, alright, there's no shame in wanting to leave Y/n, but I refuse to stand by while this happens." Max begs as he pulls you close, kissing you gently.

"Max, my father is probably tearing his hotel room apart." You whisper, cringing at how he might be reacting right now.

"Okay and? I love you, you're happy and respected, and fuck, I love you. So what if I've defiled you over and over and ov-" You laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly as he smiles, glad to see that smile.

"Come on, we've got qualifying, and I don't want you leaving my side," Max mumbles kissing your lips as he drags himself away from you to get dressed.

Pandemonium. It was utter chaos when you and Max arrived at the paddock. It was ordinarily busy on Qualifying days, but since the article dropped this morning, fans, commentators, and media have been everywhere trying to get a glimpse of you two or even a statement.

Red Bull took you in without even a second thought and protected you from the cameras as they pushed everyone away. Even posting a statement on all social media pages about legal consequences for the article and anyone who comes to the paddock without permission.

Max plants you next to Christian, who decided to sit inside the garage and next to you, knowing Max would trust him to keep an eye out. Christian doesn't say a word to you as he talks to Max about what needs to be done to get the Pole position, and you just sit there watching people move about, not a single soul questioning why you were there and not at Mercedes.

"He's got it, don't you think?" You snap out of your trance and look at Christian, who's staring at you, waiting for an answer.

"Wha-? Oh yeah, he's amazing. He'll get pole." You mumble, staring at the screens, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes.

"I knew." He blurts out, making you turn, shock all over your face.

"He told me 2 years ago after his first Championship win. Confessed everything. Started asking me to watch you and Toto to ensure everything was okay. I didn't question it, but it didn't take long to figure out why. If...if you ever need a place to escape to, me and Geri have a place open for you...always." He mumbles before putting his headphones on and watching the screens with crazy lines and dots.

"Thank you." You whisper, putting on similar headphones as you watch Max dominate.

"Yes!" you scream, tackling your boyfriend, who just secured pole position. Max laughs as he holds you close, spinning you around; he couldn't be happier. He got pole, he doesn't have to hide his feelings, and he's holding you in his arms. Nothing could ruin this.

"Y/n Wolff." A dark German voice seethes, making everyone in the garage freeze. Even the cameras scurry off, knowing to not broadcast this.

"Papa." You whisper as Max sits you down, standing half in front of you, blocking your view of your father.

''Excuse me, Max, but I need to speak with my daughter." Toto drawls out, but you know that tone. It was. I'm super pissed and about to yell tone.

"Actually, I'm okay right here, sir," Max smirked, but it was a nervous reflex. He didn't want to start a fight, but he would for you.

"Max, it's fine. Go cool off, okay." You mumble, pushing the Dutch driver away, who looks back and forth between you two before kissing your forehead.

"I love you." He whispers for only you to hear before walking away, but just enough to still be within earshot.

"How dare you!" Toto spits, making you flinch slightly; thankfully, Max doesn't notice it as you feel like a little girl again when Toto used to punish you.

"Papa-" "Don't. I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses out of your mouth. How dare you betray this family." He snarls, and that makes you snap.

"Family? What family Papa? We haven't been a family in years! You don't even remember my birthday, much less what I like! When Lewis started to win, you forgot about me, and now you want to act like we're some perfect family!" You yell, everyone watching.

Max takes a couple steps forward, but Christian and Checo stop him letting you finally stand up to your father.

"You're my daughter! And your fucking the enemy!" Toto roars as you just stare at him in disbelief.

"Hey, that's enough!" Max yells, but you grab his arm, stopping him as you finally look your father in the eye.

"He's not the enemy Papa. He's the man who loves me! Who remembers my birthday? Who was there for my high school AND college graduation? By the way, you said you were too busy to even come too, no more likely you forgot and made up an excuse. He's the man I love and would marry and spend the rest of my life with because he's always there for me when you never were. He showed me how I should be treated when all you did was lie and forget about my existence." You scream

Strong arms wrap around you as you turn into your boyfriend's chest, sobbing as he holds you close. You hear people shouting and Christian kicking your father out and slamming the garage door.

"I've got you, okay? I love you." Max whispers, trying his hardest to calm you down.

"Don't leave me." You whisper, making Max's arms crush you as he whispers soft Dutch words promising never to leave you.

He wasn't the enemy of your story; he was the Prince Charming.

"Come on, let's go to the motor home," Christian whispers to the both of you as the guys move quickly to get everyone away as you bolt for the motor home.

Christian stops you both at the door and smiles. "You're our family." He smiles, making fresh tears appear as you move to hug the Red Bull principal.

"Thank you for everything." You whisper, glad to have found this family.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 imagine #f1 2022 #f1 scenario #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen scenario #red bull reader #Red Bull imagine #max imagine #toto wolff #max x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 angst

[adventuringblind]

Unrequited Understanding

Norlestappen x Reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: Her father comes back into her life as a replacement race engineer. Now she can't escape him and his voice when she does the one thing she thought he couldn't touch.

Warnings: eating disorder, abuse, past child abuse, sef harm, suicide attempt

Notes: for @ashiekins, I hope you like it! I'M SORRY FOR THE ENDING I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

January

The new year had never felt so sweet. Her victory with Max and Redbull had been a dream. Max taking another championship, had the entire team walking on cloud nine.

She spent new years with her boys. It's tradition at this point to messily kiss all together as the new year comes around.

They'd done so much for her. She's come so far in her journey.

"What are you thinking about, Love?" Neither her nor Lando could sleep. Most nights, they end up talking to get the heavy thoughts to lessen a bit. It's why they get one half of the bed to themselves.

"How nice it feels to know I'm still here and loved." She rests her head on Lando's chest, the steady rythme of his heart lulling her into a restful state.

"Life wouldn't be the same without you." He kisses the top of her head as her mind finally gives into sleep.

February

Her and Max sit together at the large conference table. The factory is preparing for the new season. Energy is running high, and she can feel it crackling in the atmosphere.

Christian talks about how excited he is for the new season. 2023 is going to be theirs to dominate. Adrian has been working tirelessly to give them a title worthy car.

"We have had to make some last-minute changes to the team, unfortunately." Christian makes eye contact with her, and the good feeling she had dissolves. "Your race engineer has fallen terminally ill and is being hospitalized. The good news is we've found a last-minute replacement."

The door opens, and she feels the air leave her lungs. Her body shakes in fear of the man who takes confident strides to his chair.

Christian introduces them, clearly not understanding that they know each other very well. The man is her father, after all.

She has her mother's last name. Intent on separating herself from him entirely. He'd been doing Indie car for years. She never thought he'd make the switch after how they left things.

Max shoots her a concerned look, but she shakes it off. None of the boys had ever seen what her father looks like. They don't know she changed her last name.

She has no intention of ruining a good season because of her petty emotions. So, she says nothing.

March

It's not as bad as she thought it would be. They don't interact much aside from talking about data and while she's in the car.

The underhanded comments make her thoughts reel. The constant questioning of her skill while she's driving makes her think she's crazy. Her father is too good at making it look like a joke. People laugh with him, not understanding he means what he says.

He talks over her, cuts her off, bosses her around like she's still a child. She shrinks in on herself every time he cones around.

Stay silent and listen. That's what got her through her childhood. Just don't make him angry.

He lashes out when he's angry.

Charles is there when a nightmare causes her to be sick. A memory of her childhood that haunts her still.

The Monegasque holds her hair up and rubs her back as she sobs. He makes her a warm drink and holds her, letting her wet tears soak into his shirt.

"Do you want to talk about it, mon chéri?" He whispers gently against her forehead.

She inhales, breath catching in her throat as she does. "My dad, he - well - he used to say I'd never be anything. I sometimes dream about the memory."

"Your father and Jos can fuck off." Charles cups her face with his hands. "You are amazing. Whatever he told you is a lie. You've proven yourself to the world. Your younger self can rest knowing she got you here, that you are safe and loved and enough."

April

It's getting worse by the day. She's not sure where her father got the idea that he could order her around like she's still five and karting. It's getting annoying and ridiculous.

He's taken to snatching any food out of her hand and tossing it away into the nearest bin. What a waste. He could've eaten it himself.

He keeps telling her the car is too heavy. The data doesn't show that, but whatever. Her food being taken from her like when she was young was not how she expected the season to go. She takes to not eating because it's easier than fighting with him.

Her physio keeps asking her about why her weight seems to be plummeting recently. Even trying to get it back on her with altered meal plans. The concerns get brought up later in a meeting with Christian. The severity of her condition being made apparent.

Max watches her sob over a salad. She can tell he wants to push, asked what is causing the relapse. Understand where her head is at.

He hands her a water bottle and waits until she drinks the entire thing. "It's okay to struggle, but please don't shut us out. You don't have to do this alone, alright?"

She doesn't respond, simply collapses into his patient arms.

May

Lando and Charles happened to be passing by at the worst time. The Redbull garage still buzzing with the excitement of Max's podium and her mediocre result compared.

They saw her race engineer laying into her about every mistake. No other staff around to hear the conversation. Her head hung in shame as he pointed out every flaw.

Charles interrupts with such ease. He says her PR officer was looking for her earlier. It gets her to excuse herself from the conversation, leaving the two boys with her engineer.

"Mind your own business next time," scoffs the older man. He leaves the younger two confused.

Charles takes in Lando's mildly anxious body movements. "Something isn't right, Charles. She had that same look from when we were rookies."

Charles hums in agreement. "We'll have to wait for her to come to us for now."

June

The underhanded comments are getting progressively worse. People have started noticing that something is off about her race engineer and his behavior towards her.

Meetings are difficult and the team is walking on eggshells. Max looks ready to explode and has been ripping her father to pieces after every comment. He gets in trouble, so she asks him to stop.

She doesn't mind. Her whole life has been taking this kind of behavior from him. Max knows better than anyone that it's best to respect that kind of ask.

"I'm here if things ever get to a point where you want it to stop. I will always be here for you."

July

Her wight combined with her self-harming habits are making it harder to drive. Somewhere in her head she knows she can't continue like this. The car no longer works with her.

Christian keeps pulling her into his office and asking her about where she's at. Warning her the if she continues down this road, she won't be able to drive. That he'll be forced to find a replacement.

She cries as the boys hold her. She tells them she's not sure if she can do it anymore, that she's not cut out for this sport. They comfort and reassure her that's a lie.

Her thoughts remain stuck on being a burden to them. She gets better just to fall once more into her old habits. They have careers and goals that would be easier to achieve without her around.

Maybe her father is right about her after all.

August

The summer break brings them a much-needed reprieve from the fast-paced world they live in. She gets to spend time away from the incessant voice of the man she hates. Her boys occupying her mind instead.

There is a finality about this that she can't explain. Like things can only get better from here on out. That something in her future is going to bring her the one thing she's looking for.

Swimming in the ocean and eating what they want. They laugh and joke like nothing has changed. It's the first time in months that she feels normal.

This is how things should be. The smile on her face is genuine and the boys can all tell.

September

The cuts line her skin in an unorganized fashion. Angry, red, and bleeding. Her race had been ended early due to a collision. She'd been collateral damage; it wasn't her fault.

The media didn't see it that way. Her father definitely had no mercy when he mercilessly explained how she will never be good enough as a driver.

Hidden away in her drivers' room now, watching the blood pour from her skin. The boys know, they've seen the fresh lines. They are trying to find a way to get her to stop, but these feeling are fighting back harder than ever before. She's not sure how to fight them anymore.

Disappearing seems like the best option. The only way she'll be able to escape the dark thoughts swirling in her head. The one place her father won't be able to touch her anymore will be in her death.

She moans as the blade digs deeper. The ecstasy that accompanies addiction is a feeling she will always crave. Sick satisfaction bubbles in her throat and pour out on her eyes as red stains the floor.

This wasn't her plan, but it's okay. The pain makes all her thoughts go away. Lessens the weight on her chest. Forces her mind to focus on something else.

Everything is spinning and then it goes dark.

Warm hands and comforting words. That's all she's ever wanted.

October

The boys can see how sick she is. Max won't let her be alone in the garage. Not after she almost died.

Her physio is with her when none of the boys are. They keep asking her questions that she won't give answers to.

It's not until an altercation with her father is finally caught. He's condemning her over the radio while she's driving. They'd had an argument earlier about how she should be taking turn three.

The public execution is miserable. Still, she puts her head down and drives.

The second-place trophy has never felt heavier. It drags her arms downwards as she heads to the garage with Max. He doesn't know about what happened yet and she hopes it stays that way. She screams as she puts it away in her room.

She avoids her father as much as possible on the way to the press conference. The glimpse she does get of him leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. Christian looks angry as he presses a finger into her father's chest.

She's zoned out majority of the conference. Until A journalist with a soft voice is asking about her feelings towards her race engineer.

"It's just how things are sometimes. I wasn't listening to instructions, and he was frustrated. It happens." She shrugs it off like this is the most normal everyday occurrence. Which, in her defense, it kind of is.

Every media outlet seems to want to know more about it. Her emotions are struggling to remain contained. the inevitable sobs escape after a particularly worded question about whether his actions could be considered abuse or not.

She breaks, collapsing in the middle of the media pen. Her boys are there blocking the view of the cameras as her body fails to move.

They know now what has been happening. Her secret is out there for everyone to see.

November

Her father is fired from the team with immediate effect. Christian apologizes relentlessly for not knowing and not seeing it sooner.

The media is asked to refrain from asking about the incident and anything regarding her past race engineer. They respect it, probably wanting to avoid another meltdown in the middle of an interview.

Max, Lando and Charles are with her through every step of the way. They encourage her to talk to them and she does. It feels nice not having to hold in her family secrets.

They want to help her, and she wants to be helped.

Her race engineer for the end of the season ends up taking the job for next year. He's kind and keeps his voice calm. Her last few drives amaze everyone.

The top step of the podium has never felt so good. She didn't need to prove herself to anyone, but the confidence it brings her is hard to deny.

Closure feels even better.

December

Her therapist is proud of her for opening up to the boys more. They don't push her to spill everything, but they encourage her when she does.

The end of the year pulls them closer together. After everything that happened, she wasn't sure she was going to see 2024 come around. She's glad she does though.

She fought to the end. She made it to her peace. A place where her father can't touch.

Warm hands and gentle words for all of eternity.

January... Again

Three boys stand in front of a grave. Her favorite flowers in hand. The silence stretches between them. None of them know how to proceed.

The memory of finding her on the floor replays in Max's head. He should've known to find her right after the race. That cold September afternoon in Zandvoort. The day she bled out for one final time.

Charles and Lando assure Max it's not his fault. IT hadn't been her plan. There was no note, not even a warning sign aside from her mental health declining.

Her father, who they now know was the catalyst for her relapse, is in jail. Christian made sure to get him put away so the boys wouldn't have to worry about it.

The other drivers came to the funeral. The journalists respect their wishes not to speak on the matter. They need to heal before they can even think about trying to explain how all three of them had taken time off.

The FIA pushed the races back since Redbull needed to sort things out. The memorial on the track has been visited by everyone on the team.

They tried so hard. They wanted her to stay. They can only hope that she found what she needed in whatever lies beyond this life.

#formula 1 #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #norlestappen #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x max verstappen #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x lando norris #max verstappen x lando norris #cl16 #mv1 #mv33 #ln4 #f1 fic #f1 x reader

[paddockbunny]

Max request pls for 6&7 if reader is either Toto’s or Horner’s kid

Chapter One

Summary: When the Horners throw their annual summer BBQ for the Red Bull team, Christian invites Max while Geri invites the eldest Horner daughter. And the pair of them go for a little drive Pairing : Max Verstappen x Reader Rating :18+. Word Count: 3,983 Trigger Warnings : NSFW, 18+, adult content, adult language, Christian Horner, Jos Verstappen, car sex, PinV sex, unprotected sex

“You look lovely” Geri stated as your rounded the corner into the kitchen. “That dress is very, summer.” The pause she made between very and summer was clearly because she couldn’t think of a word that could have been taken for what she really meant – which was boob-y – without causing offence. You took the compliment because really, who was she to criticise your outfit when she wore a tea towel on national television back when she was your age. She stood at the marble topped island as if she had cooked the food before her. But the real (hired) chef was standing right behind her and you smirking knowing Geri and cooking certainly did not go together. It was the annual RB summer BBQ and you had been roped into attending this year as you had just finished university. More realistically it was because there was an odd number and the seating chart would therefore be off, but neither Geraldine nor your father confessed to that.

You had attended this little shindig before on one occasion. It was back in the summer between finishing high school and starting university - 2018 to be exact. You wore a dress not unlike the one you were currently sporting but with a slightly more PC neckline. You had only just turned 18 a few weeks prior and the only thing you could remember about the whole day was one Mr Daniel Ricciardo. He had been sat across from you and you wished every person there would magically disappear so you could fling yourself over the table at him. He was hotter than hot and had this energy about him. He was such a man with his stubble and slightly arrogant air that made you want to risk everything for him. You were so taken with him that as soon as he left you begged your father to allow you to take a gap year. Purely so you could attend some races and try convince him that a fresh faced, young 18 year-old was exactly the woman for him. An utterly absurd and ridiculous notion that now, you felt down right embarrassed about.

Now, as an array of men started arriving, you were certain that none of your father’s current line-up of drivers would be worth your time let alone give you anything fantasise about. But you were pulled out of your Ricciardo induced day dream when Geri asked if you would take the two bottles of wine out to the garden patio and place them in the cooler on the side table. You had a feeling it was purely to get you out of the way as she had hired enough wait staff to make Buckingham Palace look like a McDonalds. But alas, you stepped out into the warm English air and did exactly as she requested. It was then you spied your father holding court with some of his attendees. In your mind you willed him not to call you over. You didn’t want to have to engage in small talk with men that were twice your age and would be trying not to stare at your tits the whole time.

“Y/n” You sighed when your father’s voice did exactly what you were dreading. With a frustrated sigh you plastered a fake smile on your mouth and headed over toward him. He was standing with Max – he was your father’s golden boy so of course you knew him even if you had only met him a couple of times – and an older, more plump version of Max with slightly thinning hair a much more leery look on his face. Clearly, it was evident to you, that he would be the tit gazer out of the pair of them. “y/n,” your father started as you finally made your way over to them “You remember Max don’t you” Like you could ever forget him? But instead of scoffing you smiled and nodded “And this is Jos, his father.” “Nice to meet you.” You were waiting for it. You knew it was coming. Your hand stretched out and as he shook it…. Yup! there it was, his eyes glanced at your boobs. The older Verstappen looked smug now he had peaked at something he was never, ever going to get. Your father informed them that you had just finished university with a First Class Honours degree and were awaiting your graduation. “A smart girl then.” Jos stated and you suddenly felt a little queasy. Ew, you thought. Max was flanking you to the left so you decided to turn your attention to him instead. “I hear that you’re on course for another championship this year.” Small talk was good but now you had nothing to talk about over the course of the afternoon. He nodded and said it was the plan to which your father interrupted; “Just a nice clean victory without controversy would be nice.”

As the conversation progressed you realised that the Max you first met years ago was not the man who stood in front of you now. He had been shy, unsure of himself and practically awkward. He was geeky looking and clearly very overshadowed by his older, confident, handsome teammate. But now, well, Max Verstappen was pretty dishy. He was well proportioned, nice looking and had a whole brooding thing going on which appealed to you. You felt his eyes on you as you answered some stupid question flung at you by his father. And for once, you didn’t mind it. You didn’t mind if he stared at your face, your chest or any other part of you. This afternoon would perhaps be a little more fun than you initially thought.

*

Thankful that the plates were being cleared as you had been too preoccupied by stealing glances at the handsome driver seated across from you, you looked up to catch Max’s sparkling blue eyes looking back at you. You felt rather bad for having over looked him all this time. The sun was hanging lower in the sky than it had been earlier and he covered his smirk with his closed fist when he realised he had been staring back at you for a little too long. In your head you had been thinking about how different his face looked. Before he was clean shaven with a slightly odd looking face, eyes a little too far apart and too much of a wide toothy grin. But now, perfectly groomed stubble, alluring dazzling eyes that caught the light when they looked back at you and fucking incredible lips that you so desperately wanted on yours replaced those memories. 

Helmut Marko suddenly called your name from further down the table. Annoyance that you couldn’t keep observing the man in front of you and instead having to turn you attention to the old git instead coursed through you but you played the dutiful daughter. He asked if the black mini out front was yours and you nodded saying you had no need for any big fancy, fast car. It was a response that seemed to bewilder him. Then Max’s father interrupted with his own unwelcomed thoughts; “Surely you have borrowed your father’s cars no? Just to get a feel of what it feels like.” You wanted to roll your eyes. Men and their toys. Before you could even think of an answer your father was doing it for you. “That would be putting an awful lot of trust in her. I don’t think I’d let her go out by herself.” It was the kind of response that you had come to expect of your dad. If you had been a son instead of a daughter then it wouldn’t have crossed his mind to have flung a set of keys at you and told you to go have fun. But you were unfortunately a girl and therefore he thought that you were incapable of driving anything more than a Mini Cooper.

“She could go out with someone…” Geri suddenly piped up “Max, why don’t you take y/n out for a ride? No one better than the current world champion, right Christian.” It was at that moment you realised that Geri had been plotting this all along. It was the reason she had asked you here, the reason that you were sat across from Max and the reason she was now glancing back and forth between you and your father. You breathed out a shaky laugh as you were about to tell Max he shouldn’t listen to them when he spoke first. “If you’d like to go, I don’t mind.” And Geri practically jumped right out of her seat in excitement. Her eyes were on you instantly and you could feel her urging to say yes. A huge massive illuminated sign above her saying “GO WITH HIM” would have been subtle than how she was currently behaving.  “Sure.” And then she basically bolted like one of her horses back inside to grab your father’s Aston Martin keys. Your dad couldn’t even get a single word of protest in and you glanced nervously around the table. Everyone was slightly sniggering to themselves as if they were all in on Geri’s plot to get you and Max alone together but she returned with the keys and pretty much urged Max out of his seat.

*

Your foot stayed on the accelerator as you approached the tight left curve on the familiar country road that you were used to. “Woah, woah, woah, brake! Slow down!” Max pretty much barked at you as he grabbed the door and seemed to brace himself. Your foot crossed to the break and as you decelerated you downed the gears and effortlessly turned to follow the road. Once around the corner you started climbing back up your gears and smirked to yourself. He had totally underestimated you. Just because your dad didn’t let you drive his cars didn’t mean you hadn’t driven any at all. He had clearly thought he was going to be doing some instructing or confidence building when he offered the request that Geri was practically willing him to make.“Didn’t think a girl could drive this well?” You laugh and he seems to let out a nervous breath of air he had been holding on too. You slowed down a little and just enjoyed the drive. “Why don’t you come to races? Driving like this, I think you’d enjoy it.” He finally spoke after the longest time. And this time it was him the one laughing. “Your dad runs a Formula One team after all…” It went unanswered. You didn’t really want to think of your dad right now when you had glanced over and saw such a handsome face looking back at you. You weren’t imagining the look he was shooting you either. You were reading it as one of amazement and possibly with a little hint of lust. Max didn’t stay quiet on the matter and asked you if he were to offer you to come as his guest not his fathers, would you accept. “Well, I don’t usually fraternise with drivers.” “You’re doing it right now….” FUCK “…and we’re alone.” DOUBLE FUCK.

You were thankful that you knew the road well and there was hidden slip road that once lead up to a house just ahead. The house was long abandoned - something about subsidence – but the road still remained and was shielded by large bushes and tall trees. It was the perfect place to engage in behaviours that you wouldn’t want anyone else to see as they drove past. But you were getting ahead of yourself. You pretended that you were going to make a three point turn and go back down the same road when finally, just as you were turning hard right; Max suggested that the pair of you stopped for a while before going back. He dubbed it as a “getting to know each other” without the lingering eyes and ears back at your fathers estate.

“What’s the real reason you don’t come to races?’ Max had seen right through you and you were amazed. He was the first man that had ever questioned you on your stock response. With a smile and a sigh you told him. “My dad thinks I’m trouble. That I’m a distraction.” You roll your eyes dramatically after hinting at your low cut dress. His eyes didn’t trail to where you thought they would have – where most guys would have - and instead stead remained on your face. But your efforts were certainly not in vain, as his face had very familiar look written upon it.���You would be.” He was dead serious. You could tell from his tone. And you knew exactly where this was all going now. Your thighs pressed together to try and curb the sudden throbbing going on at the apex. His voice somehow got darker and more enticing when he added to his earlier statement; “I can’t believe you’re his daughter.” With a slight fear he might be about to backpedal as if his life depended on it, you risked it and asked why.“Because it makes all the thoughts going round in my head, all kinds of wrong.” You watched his face. A slight crack in the confidence appeared when you didn’t say anything. This wasn’t a set up. You realised that now. Sure, getting you alone with him may have been a set up on Geri’s part but Max meant everything he was saying and suggesting.

“They’re not wrong if I’m thinking them too.” And at that moment you undid your seatbelt. The only thing you could think of was how much you wanted to kiss him. How badly the urge was to have his mouth on yours, took over your soul. Smoothly - as if you had done it before - you swiftly climbed out of the drivers seat, flung a leg over the centre console and hauled your body over to settle on top of his. From the second you spoke to him today you realised that Max was exactly your type. He was funny, intelligent and engaging. Sure the physical side of him was what made your panties grow damp but how he talked to you like you were his equal was why this was a decision you were more than happy with making. “Fuck…” His breath caught in his throat as his hands trailed up your soft, bare thighs to hold you in place. A smirk danced across his lips and you realised you hadn’t stopped thinking about those full, pouty lips for one single second in hours. You name tumbled from his lips as your fingers pushed through his hair and you heard your heart pounding away in your chest desperately needing quelled. And you realised it wasn’t the only place the heartbeat was becoming increasingly apparent. The strong pulse like ache that grew between your legs was getting stronger and stronger and all you could think of was guiding Max’s hand there when they pressed in harder to your thighs. When he finally closed the few inches between your mouths you felt like you were in heaven. Those lips felt exactly how you knew they would and it didn’t take long for his tongue to be fighting with yours for dominance. It wasn’t a battle you were going to give in easily too and to prove he wasn’t either his teeth gently bit down on your bottom lip. But two could play that game and you finally ground yourself down on his lap. As much as you needed the friction, the gasp that left him was evidence that he did too. Something that was furthered by the very obvious rock hard erection he was harbouring in his jeans. His fingertips pressed even more into your thighs before one let go and went to your cheek. It lingered for a moment as your eyes looked into his and you knew he was silently asking for your consent. Consent that you were all too happy to give him. Those lips were back on yours as that same hand went through your hair and tugged on it gently. You didn’t want him to be gentle with you but somewhere deep down inside of you you were thankful that he was being. You knew what this was, just sex. But part of you longed for it to perhaps turn into something more. Just as you were about to lean into that thought however, his hand moved from your thigh and found your lace panty covered pussy. “Fuck….you’re so wet already.” Max moaned against your open mouth. A gasp for air very much needed.

*

You knew it was wrong to be doing this. That people would be expecting you back soon. Your father, Geraldine, Max’s father and all the others that thought they were sending you out for a quick drive in the countryside. But as Max pulled his fingers out of your desperate, throbbing pussy – the one he had been toying with and removed before you could cum around them – the only thing you could think of was him. Your hands grabbed at his jeans as he reclined the seat. Grinning as he watched you. You couldn’t recall a time that you wanted to fuck more than this. Nor could you think of a guy you wanted to fuck more than Max. It dawned on you that it wasn’t the situation (fucking in your dads car) that was thrilling to you. It was him. It was Max. You leaned forward and kissed him again as he finished freeing himself of his jeans and boxers. You were still kissing him when you felt his now freed cock spring against your inner thigh, dangerously close to the wet spot you wanted him to occupy so desperately. Your hand trailed down to it and Max hissed loudly into your mouth when your hand rolled over him. He was exactly what you thought he would be. Thick. His cock was girthy and your pussy practically ached thinking about what you would feel like tomorrow.

It didn’t take long till Max was begging at your entrance. His cock already glistening with the wetness he collected as he slipped it up and down your folds. You leaned against his big, strong body and wrapped your hands around his neck as you gently, slowly, sat back. The stretch from him was delicious and as he began to rock your hips your breathing quickened. In that moment nothing else existed but him. The angle you were at made him feel bigger than you would have thought possible and his eyes opened and pushed your dress up so he could see you taking him.“Fuck…” Fell from his mouth, “you’re so fucking perfect.” It was exactly what you wanted (and needed) to hear and he earned more from you in that second. You set the pace. You started moving back and forth quickening your movements every time he tried to breathe. Allowing him to slide out just enough before you glided back down on him elicited a moan from him. Your hands braced against his shoulders and his roughly grabbed at your ass. You noted it for next time; Max Verstappen was an ass guy. You felt him bucking his hips up and start to meet the rhythm you had so far been in charge of. His name therefore began to tumble straight from your lips. It had been once or twice until finally you were panting while the pair of you railed each other. Ready to throw each other over the edge into orgasmic oblivion.  

And after you pretty much begged him to make you make you cum Max’s moans filled the small space of the Aston Martin. The windows had fogged up and the setting sun bathed both of you in a glorious warm hue. You couldn’t care about anything but him and the high he was bringing you towards rapidly. His fingers found your clit as if he had always known every inch of your body. The circles he was roughly drawing against it matched the swirling wooziness you were feeling in your head. You were so close and from the way his cock twitch inside of you, he was too. More swear words tumbled from his lips as suddenly; your legs began to quiver. You mentally wanted to tell him “right there” “harder’ but words couldn’t even form in your mouth. And besides, he already knew. He could feel you starting to spasm around his cock. His movements getting slower as his own orgasm was about to crash upon him.

“Cum for me, y/n” He said it right in time. As with a slight tremble of your thighs and his name pouring from your mouth, you came. The high was perhaps the most intense you had ever experienced. He knew exactly what to do, what to say, how to touch you. And your pussy was still convulsing around him when he followed seconds later. You felt his cock sputtering inside of you, spilling his milky seed. Your name shakily left him when you ground down on him as if mentally you urged him not to pull out.

*         

You pulled into the driveway of your dad and Geri’s sprawling old mansion. You didn’t want to come back here. Not because Max’s cum was slowly spilling out of you and collecting in your panties but because you didn’t want this day to be drawing to a close. Sure, it was a bit ridiculous to be thinking this was anything more than fucking for him (for either of you) but you felt like you and Max had made a connection. You glanced at him and then realised he was slowing down. Was the man a mind reader? He said your name quietly and quickly put his hand on top of yours. “If I ask you to come to a race as my guest, will you?” It was a question he had already asked you earlier, before you pulled off the road and into a layby where the pair of your fucked like the world was ending in your fathers big fancy car. You thought about it but he squeezed and you knew he wanted an answer before he stopped the vehicle. You knew exactly what it was he was really asking. It wasn’t about the races. Nor was it about making you feel like you weren’t trouble or a distraction. He wanted to know if you would be willing to repeat this afternoon, if you would be willing to have sex with him again. “Yes.” It was the easiest answer you had ever given.

Your car door was luckily opened by Jos and not your father. The thought of him being so close to the car that you really needed to have valeted before he drove it again filled you with dread. “What’s this?” You were sure you were rumbled when your dad exclaimed and pointed at you both. Max covered it smoothly; “We swapped over.” “Is she really such a scary driver you had to take over?” Christian laughed and you rolled your eyes at yet another slightly sexist comment. Even you, his daughter was not immune to them. Then it dawned on you, maybe you shouldn’t have the car valeted and an even better response poured out of you just like Max’s cum. “No.” You stated boldly “I wanted to give him a ride.” Max practically choked at your words but tried to cover it as a cough. He knew exactly what you meant and couldn’t believe you would be so bold to come out with it in front of everyone. But you just smiled and winked at him. You knew you were playing with matches on this one, but it was a fire you were more that happy to start.

#max Verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 smut #max verstappen blurb #max Verstappen request #mv33

[viviuxd]

INNOCENT LOVE:a viking fell in love with me!

SYPNOSIS: Given away by her father to one of the most feared Viking kings, she finds herself betrothed. However, the clash between their beliefs and traditions threatens to unravel the union before it even begins. PAIRING: Viking x Christian!reader.

TW:difference in spiritual beliefs, mention of polygamy and death.

You inhaled deeply to calm your nerves, digging your nails into the delicate silk dress while observing the nearby door where your 'future husband' awaited. Truly, you had no intention of marrying him, and you would tell him so. You didn't care if rejecting him meant risking your life; you preferred that over marrying a pagan. You were well aware of Viking customs: they married many women, were cruel, killers, and worst of all, they worshipped pagan gods! You definitely couldn't be with someone like that.

Finally, you stopped walking alongside the guards, facing an immense wooden door. One guard effortlessly opened it, and for the first time, the other guard addressed you.

"Please, this way, miss. King Thorkell is waiting for you," he gestured with his hand for you to enter, offering a faint smile.

"Thank you, sir," you expressed your gratitude, delicately bowing your head to display your manners.

You sighed, closing your eyes, nervous. You walked slowly forward, feeling your legs tremble, your stomach churn, and a nauseating sensation. Upon lifting your gaze, a pang shot through your torso. The mighty King Thorkell stared at you intently, with a lethal gaze, as if he could see your sins. You swallowed hard and, with great effort, made a bow, inclining your body forward.

"King Thorkell."

°१९*०°

She entered the hall escorted by the guards I assigned and I noticed how her whole body trembled as she approached me. Her fear was evident, and I relished in her submission.

I knew she was Christian; they were very ignorant and weak in this world. I despised all those idiots, but the woman in front of me seemed different. Clearly, the ideals she sought in a partner were not ones I could offer, and her innocence was remarkable, her beautiful eyes looking at me with fear and obedience... she was so charming that I desired her for myself in that very moment.

"King Thorkell." I felt a tingling down my back as I heard her sweet voice. I cursed myself for summoning her so soon; I should have prepared for her.

°१९*०°

Your eyes fixated on his bulging muscles, evident even through his clothing. You swallowed hard, realizing the thoughts you had; a Viking could never interest you.

"The wedding will take place as soon as possible, so you shouldn't worry about that. From now on, you will reside in the palace, and a separate chamber will be assigned to you until you adapt. Do you understand, miss?"

You sensed his arrogance in his final words, and you clenched your fist a bit tighter. "How disrespectful," you muttered to yourself.

"King, if you allow me, I have something to say..." You wanted to clear your throat upon hearing your trembling voice. "Speak quickly, I don't have much time."

It was your first conversation, and you truly detested how he addressed you, but you chose to ignore it and demonstrate that you indeed had manners.

"I do not wish to marry you, Your Majesty."

At that moment, pride surged within you. Your words sounded so serious that you felt proud of yourself.

"I don't say it to offend you, only that it goes against my values to unite with..." You paused, carefully choosing your words to avoid upsetting him. "Someone like you."

You saw his jaw tense, and you took a step back when he rose from his throne and slowly walked towards you, his face filled with hatred. You stopped abruptly, colliding with a nearby column, finding yourself cornered by Thorkell.

He leaned towards you, the noticeable difference in height between you two, positioning himself right in front of your face, too close for comfort.

"Someone like me?" He murmured, his breath dangerously nearing you.

#christian!reader #viking #forbidden love #enemy to lovers #vikings #original works #headcanon #fanfic #fem reader #viking x reader #medieval history #original fanfiction #fantasy

[hamliet]

Oshi no Ko's Angel of Light: Kamiki Hikaru

So, I wrote a review of Oshi no Ko previously, just not on this blog. I talked there about the meaning of Hoshino Ai as a name (it's literally hoshi no eye, Ai spelled in katakana to reinforce that it's a loanword, meaning starry eye, and of course, eye/ai is a homonym for love) and how Oshi no Ko uses wordplay and puns to introduce its themes.

Naturally, I wanted to talk about the other parent, whose name is just as significant.

Kamiki Hikaru is literally "god of light/shining god." Well, okay, sort of. It's technically "kami of light," and kami doesn't translate super well into English. It's often referred to as a god in Shintoism, but it's not quite the western perception of a god. Spirit is another popular translation.

Of course, this references the supernatural themes of the story, as well as Hikaru's role. See, "angel of light" is what the Christian Bible calls Lucifer, the Christian devil. Pretty fitting for Hikaru's role in the story as the main villain.

But wait! There's more! Lucifer itself, as a name, refers to the planet Venus, known as the morning star. Which, of course, is the "star" we see in the story associated with Ai.

(Yes, the story is very much using distinctly Christian allusions alongside Shinto ones.)

Hikaru, like Lucifer, is known to, well, want everything for himself. That doesn't mean he wants all the worship of the world like Lucifer literally did according to mythology. No, instead it's far more insidious but no less disturbing: he sees himself as entitled to dictate how the world runs. He decides whose life is worth living, and makes others pay for mistakes of people they don't even know. He's playing God, in other words--exactly what Lucifer did to fall from heaven in Christian mythology (it's not actually super biblical hence why I'm using "mythology").

Lucifer is also called "Satan" obviously, which literally means "accuser" in Hebrew. That's kind of the perfect summary for what Hikaru sees himself as: he's visiting his hatred of an abuser he has every right to hate on everyone and everything that remotely reminds him of her.

The thing is, as said above, Hikaru does have the right to hate Airi, just like Aqua has the right to hate him. But following the path of revenge is Not The Way.

So, is Hikaru Satan?

No. He's a person.

The Path To Hikaru

Hikaru is not all that different from the other characters we know and love--Ai, Ruby, Kana, Akane, and especially Aqua. Fitting since they're all idols of sorts (yes, Akasaka is constantly using religious references to add social commentary to the idea of an "idol" as a false god/object of worship). They're also all actors.

Hikaru is what Aqua risks becoming. No, seriously. Hikaru was traumatized as a child via rape that led to the creation of a life.

As a result he's pretty anti-life as a whole, and especially anti-woman. He's constantly seeking revenge on women, hence his murder-happy spree. The problem is that he's not seeing these women as individuals: he sees everyone and everything as a representation of Airi, the person who assaulted him.

Also, society as a whole's attitude towards male victims of sexual assault, especially male victims of attractive women, means that Hikaru would not be seen as a victim. One of OnK's major themes is how messed up society is and how it dehumanizes people via fitting them into roles, and this is a perfect example of the harm that can come from it. Hikaru would be seen as a boy, and all boys clearly want sex. A famous actress slept with him? Lucky him! Even though this never came out publicly, Hikaru absolutely knew this was the case and it certainly plays a role in his grudge against the world.

Even though Airi is dead (probably as a result of him provoking her husband by revealing that he wasn't the father), he still isn't satisfied. No, Airi is still everywhere. Killing the perpetrator, making them pay, did not erase his trauma.

If Aqua kills Hikaru, his trauma will likewise not be erased. Not his trauma as Gorou, not his trauma as Aqua. Hikaru's death will fix absolutely nothing in his life besides stopping more murders, but there are ways to do that that, y'know, don't involve killing. If Aqua kills Hikaru, he will lose the best part of Gorou (valuing life) and the best part of Aqua (the future Ai wanted for him, a future with Kana and Ruby).

Aqua, You are Your Father

Aqua, you are your father. It's almost like the entire series has been trying to give you this message and you keep ignoring it. (By the way, because I know I'm going to get asks about this, I am NOT saying Aqua and Hikaru are moral equivalents. Not at all. I'm just saying that Aqua is walking a path that will end with him being just like Hikaru if he doesn't get shoved off said path.)

From being the violent stalker who attacks someone who has never felt loved in his first acting job after Ai's death to scenes like this:

The story is asking Aqua to take a good long look at himself, and he's trying desperately to avoid doing this. Why? Because he's also playing God, same as his father, same as Satan in Christianity. He thinks he is responsible for everything; a natural, childish attitude that people grow out of as they age.

Of course, Aqua is not nearly as toxic in this as Hikaru--he's not attacking innocent people--but the root of this is still a belief that he somehow controls what happens, when he doesn't. He doesn't at all.

Aqua, too, is just a person.

But Aqua struggles to understand what it means to be a person, to be Hoshino Aquamarine.

He struggles to see other people as people, too. This ranges from sabotaging Ruby's auditions to how he treats Akane to his protecting Kana without considering what she wants. It's been brought up multiple times in the story so far:

Aqua also fundamentally does not see Ai as a human being, either. Unlike Ruby, who calls Ai "Mama," Aqua only ever calls her "Ai," her persona. Aqua and Ai are foils to Kana and her own mother, in that Kana's mom lived through Kana only to abandon her, and Aqua is living through his mom... but ignoring what she would actually want.

(Ruby isn't flawless or perfectly healthy, and the story certainly doesn't frame them as good twin bad twin, but Ruby's overall worldview is absolutely more in line with what the story wants to endorse.) That's why we have lines like this, where Ruby reveals that she has a healthier view of their mother than Aqua does. She knows Ai was flawed.

This is extra notable because he has 0 problems calling Hikaru his father. It's almost like Aqua is drowning in self-hatred, in feeling unloved, in the idea that he brings bad luck just by existing.

He'll call out Ruby for her negative traits, but Aqua thinks he deserves them. Aqua dehumanizes himself, the same way he dehumanizes Ai, and he has to see both his mother and himself people before he can step off this path.

Essentially, what he tells Ruby here is exactly what he needs to realize, but he has not done so.

The root of Aqua's God complex is that he cannot move past his trauma. It's actually psychologically realistic that a child who experienced such an event would be stuck in a childish mindset wherein they feel guilt for not being able to save their mother.

But it's not just Ai that Aqua couldn't save. It's Sarina, too. She is the one who introduced him to Ai, after all. He didn't move on from her death in his past life, either, which can probably be traced back to his own tragic birth circumstances--the idea that he only brings death, because his mother died giving birth to him. Gorou even states that he became a doctor to help people like his mother, but the point is also that he wanted to bring life, not death.

Except, he isn't God. Neither Gorou nor Aqua are. He can't save Sarina, and that isn't his fault. But Sarina ends up okay as Ruby, not through his own intervention. Aqua couldn't save Ai, but that's not his fault.

The point I'm making here is that Aqua needs to heal the hurting child within him. The story has also brought up the theme of children suffering at the hands of the entertainment industry numerous times:

His path towards healing would involve taking a long look not just at the hurting child in himself, but the hurting child in Hikaru, too. Which is not the same as excusing. After all, we already saw what happened with Aqua thought his dad was dead: despite the supposed justice and his proclamations about being free, he was still every inch the trapped, terrified, traumatized child afraid to live. Killing Hikaru won't be any different.

Becoming Human

So, is there hope for Aqua?

Yeah. A ton of it.

Despite the tragedy of Ai's story, every other arc has ended optimistically. The story's optimism, also, is fundamentally rooted in humanity. Every character, even the ones who seem like exploitative jerks like the producers who edited Akane to look bad and the self-centered mangakas, end up having their thoughts and motives explored, and we see where they are coming from. Not only that, but they have the best of intentions.

Frankly, this is true to life as well. Precious few people see themselves as the villain. Almost everyone thinks they're doing the right thing. It's very human.

The end of the reality dating show arc is kind of what I expect in the end here. There, all contestants came together and pooled their unique individual talents to exonerate Akane. I would expect Ruby, Miyako, Kana, and Akane (who herself has finally realized that she can step into her own personhood instead of trying to be Ai/whatever Aqua needs and vowed to stop him) to come together to save Aqua from himself.

Aqua is incredibly loved, and he doesn't seem to understand this. Love is what enabled Ai to die smiling. A lack of love, feeling undeserving of love, is what torments Sarina/Ruby, Aqua, Kana, and more. The bastardization of love is what torments Hikaru.

Love allows someone to be themselves, truly, to individuate. This is what Aqua needs to learn:

He also doesn't need to earn the love of those around him, nor the love of Ai. She loved him just because he was her son, and all she wanted was for him to be happy and to live.

Imo, it's pretty unlikely Akasaka plans to end the series with Aqua becoming Hikaru 2.0. My guess is that Hikaru will be stopped because of Aqua, and he'll even likely die, but not at Aqua's hand. I suspect Akane, Ruby, and especially Kana (the one person Aqua has consistently placed above Ai) will help save Aqua from himself.

#oshi no ko #onk #oshi no ko meta #aqua hoshino #ruby hoshino #ai hoshino #hikaru kamiki #kana arima #akane kurokawa #onk theory #onk meta

[sammysmaddy]

Confessions (Dean x Reader)

Summary: When Y/N starts having some odd feelings, she turns to her religion to find the answers.

Pairing(s): Priest!Dean x Reader

Warning(s): dubcon, dark!dean, coercion, innocent!reader, religious/Christian themes, masturbation, manipulation, thoughts of p in v + creampie

W/C: 3.3k+

A/N: Short (for me) and sweet. 

Masterlist

Dean had a love-hate relationship when confessions rolled around. He loved it because it was interesting to him quite frankly. He hated it because he enjoyed it for all the wrong reasons. 

Dean enjoyed listening to people's problems, especially church members whom he rarely had the chance to converse personally with. He liked knowing what plagued their minds, and how they thought about the issues that they ran into. It brought Dean comfort to be reminded that he was not the only person who was a little messed up.

Dean himself confessed often too. Every week he would confess that he enjoyed listening to other people's confessions, and it soon turned into an endless cycle. He always confessed his sins, committed them afterward, and then confessed again.

It wasn't very often that Dean spent less than an hour in that tiny box, but today was different. Nobody showed up. Not his regulars who came in every single week- not even his regulars who asked to confess multiple times a day. 

After thirty minutes or so, Dean decided that it was appropriate to lock the shop up. He stood up,  straightened the creases in his pants, and went to open the door. 

Dean was surprised to see Y/N sitting on the bench just in front of the confession box. When their eyes met, it was clear to Dean that Y/N was just as surprised- only in a much different way.

"I'm so sorry, Father Dean," Y/N looked up at Dean with wide eyes, very similar to that of a deer in front of headlights. 

"Sorry for what, Y/N?" Dean could tell she was scared, so he did his best to ask her softly. He wanted her to feel that she could come to him for any reason. 

"I've just been sitting here," Y/N raked her fingernails up and down her arm, looking down as she answered.

"And what's so wrong with sitting here? Not comfortable enough?" Dean chuckled as he stepped a bit closer to the young girl. 

"Because I haven't confessed yet. I can't bring myself to do it." Y/N sighed, looking at Dean as he decided to take a seat next to her. 

"Are you scared?" Dean asked though it wasn't necessary, and she nodded her head. "When I was your age, I had a hard time going to confessions too."

"Really?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowed. 

"Of course," Dean replied, finding a small amount of humor in her shocked expression. "I haven't met a single person who hasn't been nervous at least once before confessions."

Y/N nodded her head slowly as Dean clasped his hands in his lap. He watched her face as it calculated his words, and wondered to himself what was going on through her brain. 

Quiet was the only word that came to mind when Dean thought about Y/N. He knew her father and though Dean considered him a decent man, Dean knew how hard he was on her. It was something that her father always mentioned in confessions because he felt guilty for being so strict. 

Y/N was very clearly affected by this. Even though she was an adult, she always listened to her parents, she got good grades at her community college, and she always attended church and all of its events. When she went to confession, she very rarely had anything to say. The worst Dean had heard from her was that she stayed out five minutes later than her father's predetermined curfew.

With that in mind, Dean was dying to know what she was planning to confess to him today. 

"Do you want to talk about it, Y/N?" Dean asked and watched as she contemplated his offer. "If it makes you feel better, I can go back into the box and you can join me."

Nodding her head at the proposal, Dean stood up. Y/N followed suit as Dean got into the box, closing the door behind him whilst he waited for her to get settled on the other side. 

"Whenever you're ready, Y/N. There's no need to rush." Dean did his best to comfort her, empathizing with the fact that sometimes big confessions weren't so easy.

"Thank you, Father," Y/N hummed quietly. After a few seconds, she spoke up again, "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been one week since my last confession."

"Would you like to start with a prayer?" Dean asked and once she answered, they preyed together for a few minutes before beginning. 

"I don't know how to say this," Y/N admitted once she began. 

"Well, luckily for you, that's pretty normal," Dean comforted her. "Oftentimes our thoughts are hard to put into words, but I'm here to guide you. What's on your mind?"

"I've been feeling... weird. I don't even know how to explain it." Y/N went quiet again. It was as if she were too afraid to say the wrong thing. 

"Would you mind describing the feeling to me?" 

"It's been happening for a while now. At first, it only happened at night when I tried to fall asleep, but now it's happening throughout the day." Y/N explained and Dean nodded to himself. 

"How long would you say you've had this feeling?"

"A few months probably,"

"And when you get this feeling, does it make you feel bad?" Dean questioned. He combed through his thoughts, not even close to sure what she could possibly be talking about. 

"Sort of," Y/N answered before taking a few seconds to think. "I think it feels good, but I feel guilty because it feels like sinning."

"What are you thinking of when you get these feelings?" Arching his brow as he pondered, Dean seemed to be at a complete loss. At first, his mind went to dark places, but then he remembered who he was talking to. 

"Everything, really. Mostly classmates but sometimes also church members. It depends on the day." 

"So, when you think of these people, what do you think?"

"I think about..." Y/N paused, seemingly too afraid to admit her thoughts. "I think about being with them."

"Oh," Dean answered softly. "Well, that's okay, Y/N. It's not uncommon for people your age to begin wondering who they will marry eventually."

"I don't think about marrying them, Father," Y/N sounded down as she spoke. 

"What do you think about then?" Dean blindly asked.

"I think about them touching me," Y/N hesitated, sighing uncomfortably through her admission. 

"Touching you how?" Dean's eyes went wide as his expression remained soft. Never in a million years did Dean think Y/N could ever be capable of thoughts like that. 

"Just... touching me. I don't know how to explain it." Y/N reiterated. 

Dean didn't know why his body reacted the way it did, but he could almost instantly feel his cock stir to life. He cursed at himself under his breath, knowing how inappropriate the timing was. 

It wasn't that Dean didn't find her attractive, because she was quite frankly one of the most objectively beautiful people that Dean had ever seen. It was that Dean had never seen her in that way. In his mind, she was like a family member to him, so it was confusing to feel what he was feeling at that moment. 

"Have I done something wrong, Father?" Y/N asked after a few moments of silence. 

"No, no, of course not," Dean cleared his throat as he straightened up in his seat. "I just needed a few moments to process."

"Oh, okay," Y/N sounded discouraged as Dean tried his best to think of what to say. 

"So, when you think of others touching you, how do you imagine they touch you?" Dean asked for clarity, again cursing himself at the reaction it caused in his boxers. 

"Like, just rubbing my arm or maybe running their fingers through my hair. I know how weird it sounds."

"It's not weird at all, Y/N." Dean sighed in relief, grateful that he wouldn't be having the uncomfortable conversation he originally thought would unfold. "What is the feeling that you have?"

"I feel butterflies in my stomach," Y/N answered. "I never thought it was a real thing, I thought it was just something that happened in the movies."

"Is it only certain people who give you these butterflies?" Dean inquired.

"Yes. It happens a lot when I think about Tommy. And when I think about Mike. And John. And sometimes even you." Y/N took a brief pause as Dean's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "I don't know why it feels so bad to enjoy these thoughts. It feels like I'm doing something wrong."

"I don't think it's a bad thing to feel, and maybe you're mistaking those butterflies for comfort," Dean explained, thinking of an example to give her. "It brings me comfort to think of embracing my loved ones."

"I don't think it's comfort, Father. It feels uncomfortable when it happens."

"But you enjoy the feeling?" Dean probed, realizing that maybe he didn't understand. Y/N hummed her agreeance. "What part of it makes you feel uncomfortable?"

"Because it's not only in my stomach," She answered.

Dean's face scrunched in confusion before his mouth dropped, finally registering her words. Feeling a pulse, his body reacted more and more to her words. He used his palm to press down on his steadily growing erection, hoping to suppress the untimely pleasure that he was experiencing.

"Father Dean?" Y/N questioned and Dean realized that he, once again, forgot to reply. 

"Sorry, Y/N," Dean cleared his throat again. 

Sighing as he softly placed his head back against the thin wall, Dean realized that the palm pressed against his crotch was doing the exact opposite of what it was meant to. He couldn't believe how good it felt to touch himself, regardless of whether or not that was what he intended to do. 

"Where else is this feeling?" Dean felt half guilty for asking but soon justified that it was only part of his job to ask. 

"It's lower... I don't want to say where." Y/N was clearly too embarrassed to clarify.

"This feeling is actually quite normal, Y/N," Dean reassured the young girl, shutting his eyes tight as his erection only grew. "It happens to almost every single one of us. In fact, it usually happens to others a lot younger than it happened to you."

"Really?" Y/N chuckled softly in relief. "I thought I was the only one."

"Definitely not," Dean nodded his head.

Dean removed his hand that was pressed against his aching member, deciding it was best to leave it alone. But after a few moments of no pressure, it was almost too painful to leave alone. Dean hadn't felt this way in a very long time. He felt like an unfortunately horny teenage boy about to give a presentation to his class. 

"How do I fix it?" Y/N asked as Dean dealt with his own demons. "I've tried to stop thinking about it, but I just can't. I don't know what to do."

"Have you tried focusing on something else?" Dean asked as he decided that it was too overbearing to leave himself untouched. He reasoned that he was only touching himself so that he could continue to do his job properly and that he wasn't going to get off with Y/N next door. 

"Yes, Father. But now I think about it all of the time. It's like a sickness that I just can't shake off." 

Dean could obviously relate to her, especially when he considered that this was the first time she was experiencing being horny. 

"And when it makes you uncomfortable, how do you help yourself?" Dean was in uncharted waters. 

He had never had this conversation with a woman during confession and wasn't entirely sure what to say. Usually, he'd tell the young men going through puberty to sort themselves out and they'd understand, but he knew that it could sometimes be more complicated for women. 

"I sometimes try to touch myself but I feel... gross," Y/N hesitated, sounding disappointed in herself. 

"How do you feel gross?" Dean asked, his cock now screaming to be taken out of his boxers. 

"I just feel dirty, Father. Like I am evil for enjoying it." She admitted.

Dean realized that he was unconsciously rubbing his palm over his cock and that he was only making it worse. 

"Have you ever... gotten off?" Dean wasn't sure why he asked. 

It was like all of his impulsive thoughts had taken over his mind and body. As Dean mindlessly did his best to unbutton his pants, he went back and forth between feeling guilty and reasoning with his actions. 

"I don't know how," Y/N answered after a few seconds, causing Dean's entire body to shiver. 

Dean's body confused him as he impulsively thought of Y/N touching herself. He had never once imagined her in this situation, much less even thought of her in a sexual manner, so he wasn't quite sure why she was eliciting this reaction from him. 

"Have you ever actually tried before?" Dean was no longer justifying himself in his mind. 

His hand had a mind of its own and all feelings of guilt were pushed aside as he reached into his boxers, fully prepared to ask Y/N whatever he needed to in order to get off. 

"I always start and then I stop. It feels like God is watching me." Dean could practically feel her regret as he slowly stroked his cock. 

"What do you do when you touch yourself?" Dean continued to stroke his throbbing member as slowly as he could so that she wouldn't be able to hear him. 

"I usually start by feeling myself through my clothes," Y/N admitted with little resistance. "And I've tried touching down there but... I can't do it."

"What's stopping you? Because it makes you feel gross?" Dean probed, swallowing the lump in his throat as he looked down at his rock-solid member. Y/N hummed in agreeance. 

Dean knew that he should have ended the session as soon as he got a hard-on. He knew that it wasn't too late to end it even now but for whatever twisted reason, he didn't want to. Plus, again, to justify his actions, Y/N clearly needed help. 

"Well," Dean hesitated, knowing how incredibly immoral his next sentence was going to be. "Why don't you try it with somebody you trust?"

"Like you, Father?" Y/N inquired and Dean felt his heart race.

"I can try to make you feel more comfortable experiencing those thoughts. Then you can go home and try to finish the job." Dean stroked his cock a bit faster, still trying his best to be as quiet as possible. 

"Right now?" Y/N questioned again and Dean did his best to fight back a groan at the sound of her voice. 

"If you want," Dean placed the ball in her court, hoping that she would agree. He figured she had no idea how screwed up his request was. 

"Oh- okay," Y/N hesitated before answering. 

"Are you ready?" Dean asked, going slower with his hand. Y/N purred a positive reply as Dean heard her shift around. "I want you to close your eyes and think about somebody touching you."

"Mhm," Y/N answered, before continuing on. "Can I... can I imagine you?"

It took Dean by surprise and further instilled his belief that she had no idea how wrong this was. Dean figured that her father must have never taught her about sex. The idea of Y/N going home to touch herself at the thought of Dean made him nearly burst. 

"Of course," Dean threw his head back, biting his lip as he choked on a moan. "Now, where am I touching you?" Dean asked, feeling as his proximity to finishing got closer. 

"All over, Father Dean," Y/N answered in a hushed voice. 

"More specific, Y/N," Dean directed her on.

"You're touching my breasts," Y/N replied and Dean's cock throbbed in his hand in return. 

"And how does that make you feel?" 

"It makes me feel really good," She hummed. 

Dean could sense that she was getting more comfortable as they continued talking, and Dean wasn't about to stop now anyway. 

"And if I were to start touching you lower, how would that make you feel?" Dean stroked his cock faster, not sure how much longer he could take without climaxing. 

"I think it would feel good," Y/N answered.

Y/N obviously wasn't very experienced and the somewhat naive state that she was in seemed to turn Dean on even more. He wanted to be the first to show her the ropes, but he didn't want to scare her away or reveal their secrets to the church. 

As much as Dean wanted to take her right then and there, he knew he had to be smart about it. Dean knew he would have to take his time with Y/N because not only did she deserve that, he also couldn't afford to lose his job. 

"Why don't you go home with that, and come see me again in my office soon? We will work through this and I will help you through every single step of the way." Dean wanted to sound reassuring to ensure that Y/N would go and find him later. 

"Yes, of course, Father Dean," Y/N complied. "Thank you so much." 

As far as Dean could tell, she sounded excited or perhaps more hopeful than she was when the session started. However, Dean was fully aware that it could be the product of his horny mind distorting her tone into a more positive one. 

Dean sat still for a second, waiting to hear her leave the confession box. Once he heard the door open and close, he began to pump himself in his hand again.

Dean had never given the time of day to think about Y/N in this manner. Now that he was, the thought of touching her all over made him feel incredibly horny. 

He imagined grabbing Y/N's breasts as she described, then dipping his fingers into her panties only to find a warm, wet cunt. Dean imagined the sounds she would make- how it would take all of his efforts not to cum just by the sound of her whines.

Dean could practically feel how tight she would be and could even hear the noises that he imagined she would make once he finally buried himself inside of her. He wrapped his hand even tighter around his cock, trying to replicate the feeling of her slick walls around him. 

He then imagined what she would sound like when she called his name and wondered if she would be loud or quiet when he began to slam himself inside of her. Dean thought that she'd try to be quiet at first, as she was often a very reserved woman, but he figured that he would have her screaming after only a few seconds. 

Imagining watching himself slide into her over and over again, Dean then pictured himself using his free thumb to rub soft circles over her clit. He then began to feel the way that Y/N's body reacted to his touch, clenching around him as she got closer to her own climax. 

As Dean continued to iron out the details with his eyes closed, he replayed the scene of Y/N cumming all over his cock over and over again, wanting to cum in sync with her. 

When Dean finally figured out exactly how he wanted Y/N to sound and imagined her wrapping her legs around his body, pulling him even deeper, he felt the band inside of him finally snap. 

Dean swallowed his moans, tensing his entire body as he continued to pump himself feverishly. As he rode out his climax, he imagined slowly pumping into her as they both came, kissing one another passionately in his mind as they began to feel a euphoria wash over them. 

Whilst Dean recuperated from the most intense orgasm he'd experienced in a while, he laid his head against the wall. All he could think about was how excited he was to begin his newfound journey with Y/N.

•••

Tag List ❤️

@hobby27 @writethelifeyouwant @deeranger

#supernatural #fanfic #spn #spnfamily #darkfic #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #priest!dean #preacher!dean #Dean #Dean x Reader

[grendelsmilf]

rewatched more community with my friend. more specifically, horror fiction in seven spooky steps (and cooperative calligraphy, but that’s not relevant here).

annie’s story is just so obviously the best. it’s not just reflective of how her mind works, but also reflective of her entire relationship to jeff, her latent anxieties of his predation, the way in which she fantasizes about having the power to, quite literally, murder him gruesomely. it cycles through annie’s entire inner monologue regarding what jeff means to her: first bridal carrying her into his home in a chivalrous way, asserting his desire to protect her as a father might, then introducing his more predatory and exploitative tendencies through his relationship to britta (who is fine with being a vessel of desire through which he consummates his animalistic urges, unlike annie), then asking to be reformed through annie’s unique intelligence (shoutout to king lear!! i knew annie had taste), but then ultimately revealing that her efforts to construct him in a more palatable image are futile, at which point she subverts the power fantasy by destroying him painfully and without remorse. even putting aside the fact that annie clearly views britta’s tacit enjoyment of sex with men (and jeff in particular) as something appalling and debasing (because she’s a lesbian), annie’s psychological landscape as it relates to her sexuality is a distinctly macabre gothic horror, illustrating how her sense of desire is mingled with horror and repulsion. annie’s attraction to jeff has always very clearly been a power fantasy, but whether he is the one with the power (reminds her of her father, an older man who has life experience validating her existence through his approval) or she is (her ability to reform him, the worst man she knows, ideally demonstrates her ability to be desirable to anyone; she wants him to submit to her that prove that she can be powerful in her own right) doesn’t really matter. either way it’s clear that this attraction is hollow, signifying her desire to be loved rather than her desire to love jeff.

it’s also interesting to note that troy’s story immediately follows annie in an attempt to show her up, and while far cruder and more childish, it also illustrates his latent sexuality and its more horrific implications. annie and troy, notably, are the only characters whose stories are about sexuality in any way, unless you count pierce’s racist and misogynistic delusions, which you shouldn’t. shirley fantasizes about being vindicated as a christian, jeff sublimates his own fear and loneliness through chang (lol), britta brittas it, and abed completely detaches himself from his story whatsoever, because he’s literally normal. but annie and troy both belie their fears regarding their latent (homo)sexuality through the vehicle of the horror genre. but while annie’s fear of jeff’s predation is resolved through an empowering subversion of her victimhood, troy’s anxieties about being codependent with abed are simply resolved through accepting his codependency as a power fantasy which he levels against the unnamed crazy old racist doctor (ie, pierce, but also ie, hegemony). obviously troy does eventually confront the fact that he has subsumed his entire identity into abed’s, but i do think there’s also something quite beautiful about the fact that on a purely subconscious level, it’s not something he’s afraid of, but in fact something he welcomes. by becoming one with abed, he is also becoming himself. it’s quite a puerile power fantasy, because it’s troy’s, but it also conveys a really poignant sentiment regarding the nature of troy’s desires, his anxieties regarding his growing codependency (moving in with abed earlier in the season, doing literally everything with him, trying to counterbalance this fact by randomly deciding that he’s into britta) but also his acceptance of it as something that only makes him “more awesome.” coming out isn’t linear, but also by the time troy does come out, he won’t actually need to, because the closet is made of glass.

#community textposts #abed is obviously the goat but i also do love troy and annie so much #troy is an angel and a gift to this world and im convinced that that wasn’t even donald glover #the spirit of troy barnes simply posssessed him every time the camera started rolling #and annie literally deserves to kill people (jeff). as a treat

[kittenofdoomage]

Obeying Temptation

Summary: She’s not a good Christian girl by any stretch, but he might still have some fun corrupting her.

Pairing: Alpha!Demon!Dean x Omega!female!reader

Word Count: 8481

Warnings: soooo much blasphemy, religious themes, smut (incl. fingering, full penetrative sex and oral sex), A/B/O (incl. scenting, knotting, marking, mentions of bodily fluids), angst, drama, demonic possession, mentions of breeding kink, dirty talk, derogatory names, hands on throats, biting, bruising, abandonment, slight dubcon and implied murder of religious clergymen, ambiguous ending

Ao3 Link

Author Note: Happy New Year everyone, enjoy some blasphemy before 2023 kicks in 😈

Church had always felt like a chore. In truth, it was more her mom’s thing than Y/N’s, but she obeyed the rules of her mother’s house, since she was stuck living there until she could find a job that paid better than minimum wage. Every Sunday, she put on one of the hideous Sears dresses her Aunt Margaret sent every birthday and followed her mother to church. Her mom didn’t make her sit at the front with the rest of the gossipy old ladies that liked to speculate on the love lives of the other attendees, at least.

It was hard not to zone out when Father Taggart droned on about the importance of community and keeping Jesus in your heart, and if she could have gotten away with it, she would have played on her phone until the service was done. She’d never understood the purpose of “God’s House”, preferring to believe His house was everywhere, seeing as he was supposed to be ubiquitous. 

Today’s sermon was more of the same. Y/N sat away from most of the other parishioners, listening as the greying vicar rambled through Matthew 22-something, her attention wandering around the stone archways of the old building. As her eyes drifted, she noticed someone in the darkness to the left near the confessionals, a good few meters away from the pews.

He stepped forward, white collar catching her gaze first. Another priest? she wondered, and his eyes met hers. A smile tugged at his lips but it was nothing like the smile she would expect to see on a vicar’s face. This smile was calculating, cunning… predatory. Despite the distance between them, she could tell he was an Alpha, unusual for a man of the cloth; she wished she could see him more clearly but he was almost entirely bathed in shadows.

“And now, I would like to invite a new voice to speak,” Father Taggart announced, and Y/N dragged her eyes from the shadowy priest to the front again, though she could feel him watching her still. “May I introduce Father Crowley, who will be standing in for Father Grayson now he has retired.”

She remembered Father Grayson, though she’d only met him a few times when she’d picked her mom up from her Wednesday night prayer group. He was at least a hundred years old, she was sure of it, bent double and hair as white as snow. Maybe he should have retired a few years earlier.

The man who stepped up with a polite nod at Father Taggart was in his late forties, or maybe early fifties - she was never very good at judging age. He had dark hair and a slightly unkempt beard, but she supposed he was attractive. For a priest.

“Thank you, Father Taggart,” the newcomer crooned, his British accent making a few of the older ladies whisper among themselves. “It is a pleasure to be speaking to you all today. As he explained, myself and Father Winchester will be standing in for Father Grayson until a suitable permanent replacement can be found.” He smiled, looking out upon his audience. “I’m sure we will feel right at home in your wonderful parish.”

Y/N glanced back to the shadows, wondering if the mysterious Alpha was Father Winchester, but he was gone. She shuddered, feeling a chill in the air as Father Taggart gave Father Crowley a further welcome, then called everyone to stand for the last hymn.

Hymns had always been the part of church she enjoyed. Singing in general was a hobby, one to be practised away from anyone who would hear her, so hymns offered her a way to sing without being singled out in a crowd. The church organ player situated herself, then began to play as Father Taggart instructed the mass to turn to Holy God, We Praise Thy Name.

The mysterious priest didn’t appear again.

It always took forever to get her mom in the car after services, usually because she was still chatting with her friends. Y/N hung around the grassy front, toying with her keys as she waited, listening to her mom pass comment on the “hot new priest”.

“You know he’s still twenty years younger than you, right?” she called out, making her mom glare in her direction.

Agnes, her mom’s best friend, prodded her. “Did you see that other one?”

“No?” Her mom frowned, glancing over at her daughter. “There was another one?”

“Mmhmm,” Agnes nodded. “Younger. Very handsome. Maybe Y/N…”

“Oh, god, Agnes, please,” Y/N interjected, holding a hand up to stop the older woman. “I’m not interested in any guys, priests or not. Besides, I thought they’re supposed to be celibate?”

Agnes and her mom chuckled. “That’s a common misconception,” her mom advised, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Trust me.”

“I don’t wanna know,” she mumbled, scrunching up her face in disgust.

“Oh come now, dear,” Agnes chided softly, “you can’t expect to live at home forever. We all have a body clock, you know, Omegas most of all.”

It was difficult not to roll her eyes at the outdated opinion, so she decided not to engage in yet another discussion about how Omegas weren’t just breeding sows. Jingling the keys, she turned her attention to her mother, giving her a tight smile. “Can we get going, Mom? I wanna enjoy the rest of my weekend.”

Her mom rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Agnes.”

“Take care, Judith. Goodbye, Y/N!”

“Bye,” Y/N muttered, already marching towards the car. Judith followed at a leisurely pace, ignoring the impatience of her daughter as she climbed into the passenger seat. Turning the key in the engine, Y/N glanced back to check the rear of the vehicle, making sure she didn’t hit the black classic parked behind her.

“Agnes is only worried, you know,” her mom started.

“Mom -”

“I know, I know, none of my business. But I would like to see a grandchild…”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “Mom.”

Judith went quiet, clamping her mouth shut with a grin. Y/N pulled the car out of the spot and sped off, hoping that her stern tone was enough to put the subject to bed. They were silent the whole way home, and when they got inside, Y/N retreated to her room to lose herself in something distracting.

By Monday morning, she’d forgotten most of the encounter, and began her week at work with a smile. Her job kept her busy, and though she hated the majority of her duties, she liked that it occupied her mind and she never had to take it home with her.

Sunday rolled around with a storm, the second of the week. The weather had been all kinds of crazy since summer had hit, and when she arrived at church with her mother, they had to run in to avoid getting drenched. Judith toddled off to her usual spot, and Y/N, once again, found sanctuary at the back. It was emptier than usual, likely due to the rain, and she could hear it on the church roof above the crowd.

Father Crowley stood at the front, waiting for everyone to get settled, and when Y/N looked around, she couldn’t see Father Taggart. Her mom was sitting with Agnes, both of them whispering to each other, and they fell silent when Father Crowley called for quiet.

“I have some grave news to give you all today,” he began, and several parishioners sat up straighter. “Father Taggart has been taken ill, so he will not be conducting service today. I would like to ask you all to hold him in your prayers, and hope for a full recovery.”

Y/N tensed, a new scent tickling her nose. The pew she was sitting on was empty save for her, and she looked to either side, searching for the source of the smell. It was thick and rich, invading her senses, inexplicably Alpha.

Movement from the darkness at the left of the church caught her eye. She focused, seeing him standing in the shadows by the door that led out to the graveyard, and for a second, she could have sworn his eyes were black. Her hands shook as she clutched the church-copy of the bible, unable to take her eyes off of him.

Father Crowley was speaking again, delivering a sermon every inch as boring as Father Taggart’s, and Y/N wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention. She stared at the mysterious priest in the shadows, feeling her heart rate speed up, and a light sweat broke out on her forehead. Her lips parted as she panted lightly, suddenly aware of what was happening.

She needed air.

Getting to her feet, she tried not to stumble, being as quiet as possible as she headed for the main entrance. No one seemed to pay her much attention, most of them listening to Father Crowley, so she escaped unnoticed, closing the door behind her.

It was still raining. The only thing that protected her was the awning over the doorway. She didn’t care, gulping down fresh air as she tried to control herself. “It’s too early,” she muttered, shaking her head.

The door opened behind her. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” It was her mom, and Y/N turned, nodding.

“It’s fine, Mom, I’ll just go wait in the car.”

Judith didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?” she whispered. “It’s Sunday, it might be a while.”

“Can I help you, ladies?”

The low rough voice made them both turn, and Y/N almost yelped at the sight of the mysterious priest. In the dull light of the storm, she could see every detail of his handsome features, and her mouth went dry as she drank in all six feet of him. “My daughter isn’t feeling well,” Judith explained before she could stop her.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Y/N insisted. “I can wait in the car.”

“If you’re feeling unwell, you can sit in the rectory until service is finished,” the priest offered.

Judith smiled, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, Father Winchester, that would put my mind at ease.” She glanced at her daughter. “I don’t think you’ve met yet. Y/N, this is -”

“Father Winchester,” Y/N whispered, staring at him. “I’d really be okay in my car.”

Her mom frowned then, reaching out to take her hand. “Please, Y/N, I’d be happier if you weren’t alone out here.”

She wanted to scream. Father Winchester was an Alpha, though her Beta mother wouldn’t scent it. He smiled at her, and she felt a thread of fear knot in her stomach. “It’s only next door,” he said smoothly, gesturing to the covered walkway that ran around the side of the old building. “Your mother can come and find you when she’s done.”

Her mother’s pleading gaze made her heart drop. She nodded reluctantly, and Judith beamed, clasping her hands over Y/N’s, tilting her head as she gazed at the priest gratefully.

“Thank you so much, Father,” she gushed, patting her daughter’s hand before scurrying back inside.

Father Winchester held out an arm, gesturing to the footpath. “It’s this way.” He stepped off, and Y/N followed. His scent filled her mouth and nose, making her stomach churn, and she couldn’t help staring at his muscular frame from behind him.

The rectory was a neat little house behind the church and the graveyard, far enough away from the other buildings that it was eerily silent. It was still raining, less enthusiastically than it had been before, but enough for her to feel her clothes getting wet as she followed the priest across the back of the graveyard. He paused after he’d opened the front door, holding it for her to slip past, and she felt a chill as she did. The door closed behind him, turning to face her as she hovered in the hallway.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked politely. It felt forced, and his intense stare made her insides quiver.

“Uh, sure.”

He smiled - the same predatory look he’d given her before. “The kitchen is through here.” Leading with his hand, he didn’t wait for her to follow, though she did, letting her gaze travel over the aged wallpaper and the few old pictures hanging on the walls. Most of them were religious or with the church itself as a subject, and for a moment, she wondered if Father Taggart was home, seeing as he was ill.

“How is Father Taggart?” she asked curiously. “Father Crowley said he was taken ill.”

Father Winchester barely spared her a glance as he filled the kettle with water, placing it on the stove top. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he muttered, his tone indicating a lack of regard for the man in question.

“Where is he?” she pushed, hoping that she wasn’t alone in the house with such an odd man.

He turned his head, grinning at her. “He left this morning. Staying with relatives in Florida. Warmer air.”

It sounded like he was mocking her, but she couldn’t see what the point would be, so she shrugged and let it go, looking around the kitchen for somewhere to sit. There was definitely space for a dining table and chairs in there but the space they could have occupied was empty.

“How are you feeling now?” the Father asked.

His question caught her off-guard. “Uh, okay, I guess,” she stammered, hugging herself for some small measure of comfort. “Probably allergies.” She was lying through her teeth; the gentle ache beginning in her belly told her exactly what was happening.

He hummed like he didn’t quite believe her. “Are you sure?” he pressed, turning to face her. “Lying is a sin, Y/N.”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head hurriedly, fighting the urge to back up and show his intimidation of her. She dropped her hands to her sides, trying to appear casual. “Well, I mean, storms kick up all sorts of allergens,” she managed, shrugging.

Father Winchester sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “You know, I gave you the chance there,” he scolded softly. “But I can see you’re going to be difficult about it.”

A lump formed in her throat. “About what?” she rasped, feigning innocence.

“I can smell you.”

The statement made her freeze, and she met his eyes like a frightened rabbit. He was facing her now, stalking her almost, and even though he was scaring the crap out of her, a tiny part of her was sending a thrill down her spine. His eyes shone as he stepped closer, and her knees trembled.

“Been able to smell you since you got out of your car,” he continued, coming closer still. “Sweet. Ripe. Just begging to be plucked.”

“Father Winchester, I -”

He scoffed, silencing her. “It’s Dean.”

She frowned at the odd correction, never knowing a priest to be so informal. But then, she’d never known one to be this inappropriate toward her. “This is wrong,” she whispered, finally backing away from him, only to find cupboards at her back two steps later. He was so close now, close enough to grab her, close enough that he was blocking any escape.

A smirk curled his lips, making him even more devastatingly handsome. “Then why can I smell how wet you are, sweetheart?”

Y/N whimpered, pressing herself into the cupboard door. “You shouldn’t be acting like this,” she denied. “You’re a priest, a man of the cloth -”

He was suddenly up against her, and she sucked in a breath, words fading as his scent overwhelmed her. “I’m an Alpha,” he murmured, reaching up to cup her face with one huge hand. “You’re an Omega. I know you feel it, I know you want it.”

She shook her head, her only struggle against his hold. He chuckled, leaning in like he was going to kiss her and she knew she should have resisted but she didn’t. His face got closer and right as he was about to brush his lips over hers, he went left, pressing his cheek to hers instead. The hand at her jaw tugged at her jacket, pulling it down until her bare shoulder and throat were exposed.

“I wouldn’t force myself on you, Y/N,” he crooned, mouth right against the shell of her ear. “It’s so much more satisfying to watch you try to fight it.” He chuckled, running the tips of his fingers up over her bare arm. “And you’re going to beg for my knot before long.” His fingers slid over her shoulder and up to her throat, stroking over the spot where an Alpha would lay his claim.

A shudder ran up her spine, and she could feel wetness in her panties. No doubt he could smell it, how aroused she was just from a few moments in his presence. “I don’t -” Her mouth was so dry, she couldn’t speak. Working some saliva up, she managed a tiny whine, and Dean pulled back to look her in the eye.

“Try again,” he ordered softly.

“I don’t think th-this is appropriate,” she stammered, too aware of the hand still lingering on her throat.

“Why not?” he teased, grinning at her. “Your body wants it. Every second, your scent’s gettin’ stronger, princess.”

This is wrong, this is wrong, she chanted in her mind but already she was imagining it, conjuring fantasies based on the hard lines of his body that held her against the cupboard. “Please,” she keened desperately.

“Please, what?”

The kettle began to shrill loudly, and the tension in the room snapped. Dean stepped away, leaving her to crumple in on herself, and she panted against the cupboard, watching him as he continued to make the tea.

She wondered for a second if she’d imagined it but her jacket was still hanging halfway down her shoulder, and she could still feel his touch on her skin. Her panties were soaked through, and when she straightened, she felt the ache in her belly turning raw.

The front door opened, and she heard her mother’s voice. Relief swept through her, but Dean didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the arrival of company.

“Oh, of course, Father, we understand,” Judith was practically swooning over him, “after all, safety comes first.”

“Absolutely, my child,” Father Crowley replied and the front door shut loudly. “Now let’s see where your daughter has gotten to.” His voice got louder as they approached the kitchen, and when he entered, he smiled at you. “Here she is.” He glanced at the other priest. “Safe and sound.”

Judith didn’t notice the odd tone he spoke with, but Y/N did. She stood still as her mother came closer and began to fuss, pressing one hand to her daughter’s forehead. “Oh dear,” she mumbled, flustering a little as she realized what was ailing the younger woman. “I suppose we should get you home.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Father Crowley interjected, glaring at Father Winchester, who smirked back.

“Thank you for looking after her, Father,” Judith cooed, smiling at both men.

“Take good care of her, won’t you?” Dean requested, all charm as he stared right at Y/N. She swallowed down a whimper, ducking her head so her mother didn’t see her reaction to him. “She’s a very special girl.”

Her mother clutched her chest, giving him an adoring look. “I will, Father Winchester,” she promised, taking Y/N’s hand but her daughter was already moving, desperate to get away from the scent of him. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” Judith admonished, making her freeze in her tracks.

She turned back, stomach churning, palms getting sweaty. “Thank you, Father,” she mumbled, curtseying like she was a child at Sunday School.

“I’ll keep you in my prayers,” he replied, a filthy smirk on his lips.

Judith didn’t linger this time, following as her daughter dashed for the door and out into the fresh air. The door closed behind them, and Crowley turned to Dean, arching one eyebrow in his direction.

“Feeling a little more enthusiastic about this?” he taunted. “Though you’re behind. I’ve already got three in the bag, what’s so special about this one?”

Dean’s smirk grew. “Didn’t you smell her?”

Crowley hummed. “Not something I’d be attuned to,” he shrugged. “This meatsuit’s a Beta.”

“You’re missing out,” Dean chuckled. “All she needs is a little push and she’ll be begging.”

“Seems like a waste of time.”

The younger man growled. “I thought we were here to have fun.”

“We are,” Crowley confirmed hesitantly. “I just thought it was a little more damning of little old ladies and less chasing tail.”

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. “Whatever floats your boat. We should get rid of Taggart. He’s gonna start stinking up the joint.”

She’d been mistaken in thinking getting away from Father Winchester would slow her predicament. If anything, by the time she arrived home, the heat was getting stronger. Her mother parked the car and ushered her out, ordering her to her room to rest while promising noodle soup.

Usually, she’d sleep through most of a heat, ensconced in her personal space, and it would be over within three or four days. Even at her age and unmated, she managed them easily, but this one was early, way off her regular cycle. It felt stronger too, crippling her in hours, and by the time her mom brought her soup, she was at the point of begging for unconsciousness. Judith was concerned - Y/N dismissed it, assuring her mother she only needed rest and sending her away.

Every time she closed her eyes, Dean’s face, his scent, tormented her.

Monday didn’t bring any improvement. She strayed from her nest only to use the bathroom, snacking on comfort foods and watching shows when she wasn’t sleeping. Her mom checked in before she went out, and while she was gone, Y/N used the private time to take the edge off, cursing herself when she imagined Dean being the one to satisfy her.

She fell short of satisfying herself, only succeeding making the longing worse.

On Tuesday, her mom was home, and expressed a desire to call the doctor, but Y/N waved her off again. Her fever was beginning to break, she just had to ride it out.

In the afternoon, someone knocked at the door, the noise disturbing her sleep. She laid in her bed, listening as her mother greeted whoever it was, and for a moment, the low voice that answered didn’t register. When she realized who it was, she bolted upright, staring at the door in horror as she heard them coming up the stairs.

Her mother knocked at her door seconds later, and Y/N snatched the covers, pulling them up to her chin. The door opened without her consent - nothing unusual for Judith - and she stepped in alone, even though Y/N could smell Dean just outside in the hall.

“Y/N,” she murmured, “Father Winchester has come to check in on you.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Y/N grunted back. “I’d rather not -”

“Nonsense,” she insisted. “Maybe prayer will help take your mind off of it.”

The utter disregard the older woman suddenly had was alarming, but Y/N didn’t have a chance to question it as Father Winchester entered, smirking at her. Judith smiled, glancing over at her daughter as she wilted in the bed.

“I’ve got to run into town. Will you two be okay?” Judith asked, ignoring the horror on Y/N’s face.

“I’m sure I can assist Y/N with whatever she needs,” Dean drawled, still grinning, eyes locked on her. It didn’t appear that Judith caught his double meaning at all, as she quickly retreated, leaving her Omega daughter to the Alpha’s mercy. He waited until he heard her reach the bottom of the stairs, then he pushed the door almost closed, licking his lips. “Mmm,” he exhaled, “I can taste you in the air, pretty thing.���

“I could shout,” she threatened quietly. “Mom will -”

“Go ahead,” he dared. “But I already know, you won’t. Because you’ve been thinking about me for three days.”

Her cheeks flushed with fresh heat but she held his gaze in defiance. He tucked his tongue behind his teeth, his expression mocking her, and she scowled, hating the fact that he was having an effect on her.

Downstairs, the front door shut, leaving them alone.

Dean moved closer, lowering himself onto the bed by her thighs. He didn’t touch her, but his proximity was enough to make her tense, the desire in her belly growing stronger with every whiff of his scent. “Don’t worry,” he soothed, lifting his chin. “I won’t touch you unless you ask nicely.”

She ground her teeth together. That same tiny part of her that had sprung up back at the rectory, the Judas in her soul that made her quiver at just his voice; it was screaming now, pleading with her to give in. Keeping her mouth shut, she focused on remaining still, unreactive to his presence.

“Ooo, hard to get, huh?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Your scent betrays what you’re craving, baby. I bet you’ve cum half a dozen times on those useless plastic knots.” He looked around the room, obviously looking for evidence. “Where do you hide them?”

Y/N kept her eyes on him, unwilling to give away her secret.

“Gotta be somewhere mommy won’t find,” he continued, getting to his feet again. “She’s so nice. I doubt she knows what a little cockslut her daughter truly is.”

Her stomach clenched, and she looked down at her knees underneath the quilt. Dean laughed again, wandering over to her dresser. He smoothed one long hand along the top of it, glancing back at her in amusement.

“No, not in here, too obvious,” he mused aloud, scanning the room. Spying her closet, he strode over to it, opening the doors. He inspected it without touching anything, looking back at her again to check her reaction. She continued to keep her eyes down, chewing her lip to silence herself. “Not even gonna give me a hint?”

The rise he wanted wasn’t forthcoming though he didn’t seem bothered by her refusal to play his game. He stalked closer, trying to get her to look at him. She kept her head down, resisting, but when his knee hit the bed, she couldn’t stop her eyes darting towards where her shoebox lay.

Dropping to one knee, he reached under the bed, finding the only thing that was under there. He pulled the box out, glancing up to see her shameful expression, and he knew he had his prize.

“Let’s see,” he hummed, tugging the lid off.

Y/N only owned two toys, a vibrating wand and a dildo. Dean went for the dildo first, holding it up in scrutiny as she tried to will her bed to swallow her whole.

“Oh, baby. You’re in for a treat.” He clicked his tongue, smirking at her. “This is tiny.” It hit the floor with a thud that made her flinch. “But this one might be useful.” He dropped the shoebox, throwing the wand onto the bed; it landed between her knees. “Which one do you like best?”

She hesitated. He waited patiently, staring at her, and she shivered, letting the covers fall to her shoulders. “I-if I tell you… you won’t hurt me, right?”

A frown dampened his smile. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you, Omega?”

The use of the title made her shiver again. Her whole body ached, the arousal becoming unbearable and only enhanced by the scent of a potent Alpha so close. “I don’t know,” she confessed.

“I told you - I won’t touch you until you ask me to,” he repeated.

“Th-the wand,” she rushed out, and his smile returned. “The kn - the other one feels too fake.”

He chuckled, tilting his head a little. “Tell me the truth, princess,” he moved closer, sitting on the bed again, this time on the opposite side, “have you ever taken a real Alpha knot in that sweet little cunt of yours?”

She couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped. “Yes,” she whispered. “Once.”

“Lemme guess,” he mused, tapping his chin with one finger. “Highschool sweetheart. Thought he was the one, only for him to pop your cherry and leave you high and dry, right?” Her gaze dropped, and he took it for confirmation, laughing lightly. “Oh, darlin’, I’m gonna blow your mind when I get inside you.”

His words were so crude, so unbecoming of a priest. No one had ever spoken to her like that and she was ashamed to find his filthy expressions arousing. “Y-you said you wouldn’t force me.”

“I won’t,” he assured her. “I told you, you’ll beg me for it.”

Faking bravado, she lifted her chin, staring at him. “How do you know?”

“Because you’ve got my scent now,” he breathed, “Omega.” She shuddered, unable to suppress it, and fresh warmth invaded the space between her thighs. “See? Just my voice makes your pussy clench, doesn’t it? How many times have you imagined me fucking you to get off?” She whimpered, breaking eye contact. “Honesty, Y/N.”

“A lot,” she rasped truthfully, because she hadn’t counted.

He grinned triumphantly. “You wanna cum right now, don’t you?” She nodded, clenching her hands in the covers. “Then pick up your little toy and make yourself cum.”

The idea of refusing floated in her mind but she was so aroused she could feel it soaking the sheets underneath her ass. Dean watched her, green eyes hungry as they fixed on her, and before she could contemplate what she was doing, she pulled one hand out from the quilt and grabbed the wand.

He sat back a little, hands in his lap. Swallowing hard, Y/N hid the wand under the covers, turning it on so he could hear it, sliding it between her thighs. It didn’t even occur to her to fake it, and when the vibrating head touched her clit through her thin panties, she whined loudly.

“That’s it,” he purred, rubbing his crotch through his black slacks. “Aren’t you warm under all that?”

Desire controlled her, overriding her common sense. She pushed the covers down, shifting so she was a little flatter before pressing the wand to her sex again. Dean was stroking himself through his pants now, watching her as she writhed against the stimulation.

“I think you’d cum quicker if you took your panties off,” he suggested.

She nodded, too lust-drunk to fight it anymore, and in a few seconds, her panties were off and across the room. Dean watched as she spread her legs, bringing the wand’s head to right where she needed it. The intense need in her core only got her to the edge quicker, and she shuddered through an orgasm under the priest’s stare, feeling shameful as the pleasure subsided.

“Did that feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whimpered, legs still twitching as she pulled the wand away and turned it off. Her cunt clenched around nothing, and she squirmed, desperate to feel more friction. Dean’s gaze dropped to her slick pussy, and he bit his lip, obviously restraining himself. The realization dawned on her that she didn’t want him to show control… she wanted him to touch her. “Please,” she forced out, chest heaving and breath coming in short pants. “Touch me.”

His lips curled into a sly smile and he chuckled. “Told you so,” he murmured, reaching out to slide his hand over her knee and up her bare thigh. “But you need to be specific. Where should I touch you, Y/N?”

“M-my,” she hesitated, feeling the warmth of his hand so close to where she wanted it, “my pussy.”

He grinned. “You learn quick,” he muttered, finally cupping her sex with his hand. She groaned, unwittingly canting her hips into his palm. “Oh, you’re so wet and warm, little Omega.” A finger dipped inside her, making her mewl pitifully, but he only laughed, teasing her with a little more of it. “Tell me what you want now.”

“I want -” She stopped, licking her lips as her breathing got heavier. “I want you to make me cum.”

“Like this?” He thrust his finger into her up to the knuckle, and she cried out, clutching the sheets underneath her. “So tight too,” he groaned. “You’re going to burn me alive.”

She twisted, nodding desperately. “P-please, more.”

He fucked the single digit into her, letting her body adjust before he penetrated her with the second. Her voice became hoarse, and her cunt throbbed around him, slicking every stroke as he opened her up. His wrist twisted, allowing him to press his thumb to her clit, and her whole body trembled.

“Just opening up for me,” he praised, looking down at her hungrily as he kept his fingers moving at a steady pace. “I bet you’ll gush all over my hand, won’t you, dirty little whore Omega? Look at you, all ready to beg for what you really want.” She moaned and nodded, rocking her hips in time with his thrusts. “Wonder how hard you’ll cum with my knot stretching that perfect little cunt out? You wanna feel my seed in your belly?”

It was too much. With a hoarse shout, she came, clenching hard around his fingers as he held them deep, his thumb continuing to work at her clit until she was dripping down his wrist. She was crying with pleasure, unable to vocalize anything as she shuddered from head to toe, and when Dean pulled his hand away, her legs collapsed, leaving her in a messy heap, eyes closed and chest heaving.

She could hear him lick his fingers clean.

“What do you want now, Y/N?” he taunted, leaning over her. She whimpered, opening her eyes to look up at him.

“Want your knot, Alpha,” she keened, reaching for him.

He tisked, pulling away before she could touch him. “That’s not good enough,” he chided, shaking his head and smirking at her. “If you want it that bad, you’ll come and get it.”

“Wait,” she mumbled, pushing up onto weak arms as he walked around the bed. “Where are you going?”

“Not far,” he replied mockingly, pausing at the door. “Like I said, if you want it that bad…” He trailed off and shrugged, disappearing out of the door. Y/N scrambled to follow, reaching the doorway with only her t-shirt on, but as she stepped out into the hall, it was empty. Father Winchester was gone.

She stared, pouting at nothing. Had she imagined it in some sort of heat fever? No, she could smell him, feeling his lingering touch in her most intimate places - how could he leave her like that? He’d watched her get herself off, made her cum with the briefest of touches, and then he just… vanished?

With her climax, her heat was given a brief reprieve, and her judgment became a little less clouded. She knew what Father Winchester - Dean - was doing. It was immoral and wrong and why was she still craving him? She should have been disgusted with herself, she should have thrown him out, she should have -

But she hadn’t. She’d let him make her cum and she’d enjoyed every second of it.

Shame washed over her. She retreated back to her room, covering her face with her hands as she made a frustrated noise. All she could think about was him, all she wanted was him. It felt like he’d cursed her, when all he’d really done was talk dirty, and she’d broken like a twig.

Maybe she should let his superior know what he was doing. She was fairly certain priests weren’t supposed to seduce their parishioners, especially not with the ferocity Dean displayed. Except… except then he might be made to stop, and that tiny part of her from before was getting bigger and louder by the minute.

She dressed quickly, repeating the same cycle of thoughts in her head. They weren’t really doing anything wrong. He wasn’t the celibate kind of priest, and she was a single unmated Omega. Their only sin was sex before marriage, which she’d never exactly been big on, judging by the three guys she’d actually slept with in college.

By the time she was dressed, she almost had herself convinced. At the bottom of the stairs, she grabbed her coat and keys, pleased her mother hadn’t taken the car. When she opened the front door, she knew what she was going to do, and she was at peace with it.

The church was quiet when she pulled up, the windows sparkling in the afternoon sun. Y/N sat in her car, nibbling at her finger as she watched the door, concerned someone would see her. There didn’t seem to be any sign of life, so she climbed out, taking careful steps up to the door to try the handle. She wasn’t surprised when it opened, and she slipped inside, closing it behind her.

Inside was empty. At the far end by the altar, candles burned, and the smell of frankincense hung in the air. Moving forward, she listened out for anyone lurking, slowly heading for the front pews.

The door clicked loudly behind her. She turned, seeing Dean with his hand on the lock, and he turned his head, lips curled in another filthy smirk. His eyes were dark, almost black, she thought, but when she blinked they were normal. Dismissing it as a trick of the light, she turned to face him, unconsciously holding a breath.

“Well, well,” he chuckled, swiping a thumb across his full lower lip. “You didn’t waste any time.” He strolled towards her, bumping his hand off of each pew as he went. “It’s barely been an hour.”

She bit her lip, watching him draw closer. There was weakness in her knees, and her heart pounded in her chest so hard, she thought it might burst. Dean chuckled, slowing to a stop just within reach.

“Father Winchester,” she whispered, trying not to sink to her knees. He bared his teeth and she swallowed. “Dean.”

“Try again.”

A shuddering breath left her lips. “Alpha.”

He hummed, reaching out to grasp her chin in his fingers. “Yes?”

She knew what he wanted, what she had to say in order to get what she wanted, what her body was craving like an addict. Still, she struggled to get the words out, unused to expressing her sexual needs aloud. “I need... I need your knot,” she whimpered.

He tisked, releasing her. “Not good enough.”

Her legs gave out, and she dropped with a frustrated cry. “Please,” she wailed, “please, Alpha, I need it. Need you to knot me.” Dean groaned, palming his crotch, looking down at her hungrily. Y/N lifted her head, panting as she pleaded with him. “Need you to fuck me.”

His jaw hung half open as he tore at the buckle of his pants, pulling his half-hard cock free. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, watching as his erection thickened and filled out, the bulge of his knot obvious at the base. “You’re learning,” he mumbled, stroking himself as he stepped closer. “Open up.”

She obeyed, kneeling a little straighter as he offered himself to her, tapping the heavy crown against her bottom lip.

“Wider.”

Her jaw ached already but she did as she was told, instinctively brushing her tongue across the weeping head. His taste was tangy on her tongue, and she swallowed it down, lifting one hand to touch him. He didn’t resist, watching with his chin tucked into his chest as she took the initiative and started to explore his shaft with her tongue.

“Keep going,” he murmured, stroking her face before cupping the side of her head. “That’s it. Good little cocksucker.”

She moaned around him, feeling her own body respond to what she was doing. Her pussy throbbed and her skin prickled with heat, and her movements became more enthusiastic, much to the Alpha’s delight.

“Take it deeper,” he instructed, and she complied, eager to please him. His cockhead nudged the back of her throat and she gagged, pulling away at the fear of throwing up. Dean stopped her going far, quickly tugging her back. “Keep trying,” he ordered. “You’ll get used to it.”

Cautiously, she opened her mouth again, feeling the weight of him on her tongue. He thrust forward a little, and she swallowed, concentrating hard to control her gag reflex. Dean moaned as she kept doing it, rocking his hips to keep up the pressure.

“Fuck, you got a sweet mouth,” he groaned. “But I bet your pussy feels even better.”

He pulled away without warning, and Y/N spluttered as she landed on her hands, gasping down air. Dean’s hand slipped around her upper arm, pulling her to her feet; she stumbled, grabbing onto him for stability. Without waiting, he tugged her toward the altar, roughly pushing her against it.

“A dress would have been better,” he commented, yanking her pants down to her ankles as she squeaked in alarm and grabbed the cloth-covered altar table. Two fingers quickly pressed against her sex, sinking into her without warning. She cried out, clutching the table, bending over without thinking. “Still so wet,” he muttered, fucking the two thick digits into her.

“Please,” she wailed, unable to take any more teasing.

“Impatient now,” he chuckled, pulling his fingers free. “Don’t worry, baby,” she heard his pants drop as the heavy belt buckle hit the floor, “gonna make you feel all better.”

He pressed in behind her, letting her feel the weight of his cock as he slid between her thighs. Holding it against her pussy, he reached around for her throat, pulling her up straight.

“Look up,” he commanded quietly. She obeyed, lifting her eyes to the wooden crucifix above them, the carved image of Christ staring back. “I want you to look at Him while you’re taking my knot.”

He pushed into her, and she cried out, digging her fingernails into her table underneath her, struggling to keep her gaze where he wanted it. His thick shaft settled deep in her warmth, creating a pressure in her belly that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his grip on her throat loosening for a second. “Just as good as I imagined.”

Y/N whimpered, fighting to keep her head up as Dean started to fuck her with slow, purposeful strokes. Her hips dug into the altar with every thrust, and his hand kept a steady grip on her throat, forcing her to look into the eyes of the crucified messiah as he defiled her.

It felt too good to care.

Her first climax came quickly, and her cries bounced off of the stained glass windows, echoing around the old building. Dean didn’t slow or stop, grunting in time with the slap of his skin on hers. His other hand grabbed her breast through her shirt, squeezing without a care for how rough he was being but her only noises were of pleasure. She was getting off on the way he used her, the bruises he was bound to leave on her skin.

“You really are a sinner,” he groaned, feeling her pussy clench around him again. His hand dropped to her belly, the fingers at her throat forcing her up a little straighter. “Bet you’re ripe right now,” he murmured, close to her ear. “That empty little womb just begging to be filled.”

The thought of what he was suggesting shouldn’t have made her wetter, shouldn’t have had any effect on her at all, but she would be lying if it didn’t. Her whole body shuddered at the depravity of even thinking about carrying his spawn, and she let her eyes roll back and fall shut. Dean chuckled, slowing just a little to watch her slick cunt swallow him over and over.

“I’m gonna knot you,” he panted, palming her ass, releasing her throat as he kicked her feet apart a little wider. Her belly and breasts came flush with the altar, and he hummed when his cock stabbed a little deeper. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you’re so ready to be filled up.” Y/N whined, pushing up onto tiptoes to stop from slipping. “I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

His hips snapped into her with more force, punching a cry from her lips. He started to fuck her hard, hard enough that she knew she’d have physical marks from the wood colliding with her hip, if not from his fingers gripping her flesh tightly. She couldn’t hope to stop herself from screaming, cumming hard as she felt his knot beginning to swell.

“That’s it, Omega,” Dean growled, slapping her ass as she clenched around him. “Fucking cum on my knot.”

With one last thrust, his knot popped, thickening inside her as warm spurts of cum filled her belly. His teeth found her throat, and in the throes of pleasure, she didn’t resist, crying out as he broke the skin and left a permanent reminder of his touch. She slumped forward when he released her, gasping through the last of her orgasm, going limp as he finished. He groaned with a low chuckle, squeezing her ass again, enjoying the last few squeezes of her warm walls around his cock.

“Wanna hear a secret?” he murmured, pulling her up and holding her there, practically impaling her on his knot. His lips brushed the shell of her ear and she shuddered, almost wheezing in his grip. “I’m no priest.”

Was he expecting her to be surprised? No priest acted the way he did.

“Then what are you?” she asked, expecting him to say anything but what came out of his mouth.

He chuckled. “I don’t think you’re ready for that, little Omega.”

How she had made it out of the church and home without anyone seeing her was a stroke of luck, and she managed to avoid her mother for the rest of the day. Her heat subsided quickly after her encounter with Dean, but she still wasn’t entirely satisfied. After their encounter, he’d disappeared without answering her questions, and every time she’d returned to the church later on in the week, there was no one there. The mark on her throat ached, and though it hadn’t been deep, she still kept it covered to avoid questions from anyone who might see it.

Shame kept her from attending church on the Sunday, having decided by that point that Dean had used her. She feigned a migraine, letting her mother take her car, and then she ate junk food in her room while watching reruns of old sitcoms on television. When her mom returned a few hours later, it was with surprising news.

“Father Taggart passed away,” Judith said after Y/N came down to see what had happened. “No one is sure what happened, only that the bishop is saying they didn’t send any replacement for Father Grayson, and no one knows what happened to Father Crowley or Father Winchester.”

“That’s strange,” Y/N mumbled, recalling Dean’s words while he’d been buried inside her. The majority of her soul was in pain at the abandonment of an Alpha - again - and that this time, he’d left something of himself inside her.

“Oh, and did I mention?” her mother continued. “Mrs. Whiting was found dead two days ago. Another mystery. Her husband is still missing.”

Judith carried on, musing over all the gossip she’d heard today, and Y/N tuned it out, trying not to pay any attention to the emotions crushing her chest. She should have been more careful, should have been wary of the handsome Alpha - she definitely shouldn’t have offered herself up to him like a brazen hussy.

She had to keep her involvement with him quiet. The last thing she wanted was attention from the police. It was easier to keep her head down and carry on, deal with her own stupidity and not let herself be fooled again.

When a few days passed, she let it sink in. A night of crying to the most tear-jerking movies she could think of, and she felt a little better. She kept going, and days turned into weeks, and Dean was a brief thought that flitted through her mind occasionally. His mark faded to an easily-disguisable scar, and she continued on with how her life had been before, ignoring the longing for excitement that he had brought her. The only change was church, despite her mother’s protests.

She never expected to see him again but she wasn’t sure she could walk back into the place where she’d let him own every part of her.

It was almost a relief when her period came. His comments about her fertility had lingered in her mind, burrowing deep until she was in a panic. But her cycle continued as it had before, and she thought she could finally forget him entirely.

She didn’t notice the black car parked along the street, didn’t recognize it at all, though she’d seen it before. She didn’t even pay attention when she saw it outside her office, or at the grocery store. It was only when she walked past it for the sixth time outside the pharmacy, and the door opened, that she finally saw who it was.

Dean stared at her over the top of the Impala, and Y/N froze on the sidewalk, feeling like time had slowed down. He smiled awkwardly, unlike the predatory smirk from before, and she frowned, tilting her head at him.

“You’re back,” she blurted out.

“Kind of,” he replied haltingly.

It had been about six weeks. She was due her heat again. “What do you want?” she asked.

“To talk.” He sounded sincere at least. “To explain.” There was something in his voice, something that tugged her forward. “You’re my Omega, Y/N.”

She took a breath, knowing without even thinking about it that she’d listen. “What if I don’t want to talk?” she challenged. “What if I don’t want an Alpha?”

Dean smiled again, but once more she noticed the difference in him. “Is that true?”

“No,” she confessed quietly.

He gestured to the passenger door. “You wanna get in?”

It felt like opening that door would lead her somewhere, and not just into this man’s arms. Whatever he had to say, she felt like she needed to hear it, that this was not only the door to his car, but the door to her future. She looked up, smiling at the bright sunny sky, then dropped her gaze back to him.

“Yeah.”

Feedback is appreciated!! Thanks for reading 😘

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #demon!dean winchester #fanfic #fanfiction #spn #supernatural #blasphemy #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega #alpha!Dean Winchester #omega!reader

[oksurethisismyname]

Hiiiii as a queer person living in the Bible Belt of the USA, I’m envisioning a “Christian trauma AU / general theology AU” because you know my main focus is always Sanji. This assumed that we’re in the USA, modern era, and I guess maybe a college or post grad AU for how they meet each other? This is a lonnnnnnnng text post so scroll at your own risk. To keep it from being toooo long I’m also sticking to east blue crew.

Hear me out:

There are a million different sects of Christianity so we’ve got a ton of angles to use.

Garp is catholic (but think FRENCH laïcité instead of American Amy Coney Barret Supreme Court justice weird catholic cult), Dragon straight up rebels against the strict structure and goes about his atheist ways. Neither of them really raise Luffy anyway so 💁🏻

Luffy ends up being agnostic. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in a higher power but he knows he needs to take action and that he can’t rely on a higher power to fix the problems of the world. Very Albert Camus, revolting against the absurd and holding himself to a higher responsibility in life

Zoro comes from a Shinto or Buddhist background. He’s not judging anyone’s religious beliefs unless they’re harming others.

Nami has religious trauma from the Baptist church that set up in her town and made it impossible to be herself. Belle Mere is so clearly queer and she’s harassed and dies at the hands of some zealous bigots who were emboldened by the words of the local Baptist church pastor (Arlong)

Ussop comes from a chill Protestant background (maybe Presbyterian?) But he’s more of a CEO (Christmas Easter Only) in terms of actually attending any sort of church. Honestly, with his dad out of the picture and his mom dying, he just had bigger things on his mind like living every day.

Finally, Sanji. Oh boy, Sanji has major “Quiverfull movement Christian” trauma from Judge. For those who don’t know, quiverfull is a Christian extremist movement where the idea is to have as many kids as possible and adhere to very strict purity rules and gender roles. Contraception isn’t allowed. Women wear long skirts and non fitted shirts to hide their womanly form (ew), and most of the time these parents homeschool there kids to avoid the “temptation” or “impurity” of modern society.

Judge had these 5 kids who he’s raised in this faith but Sanji never liked how Judge treated his mom. Why was Sora supposed to be “seen and not heard?” Why was it ok for his brothers to use scripture to bully and hurt and spread hate? Why would a loving god create women just to subjugate them? Judge wouldn’t like this, and once Sora passes away (probably because Judge wouldn’t let her seek medical care post birth of the quadruplets, so her health deteriorated for years), Judge locks him up and makes him do all sorts of horrible “prayer” and “repentance” practices, which are really just abuse.

Sanji would maybe escape when they go into town to get something mundane like a printer or a new wifi router (which only judge is allowed to use the internet). He’d probably bolt first chance he gets and when he meets Zeff, Zeff can recognize the signals of abuse. He takes Sanji in and even though Sanji never believed women were less than men, he still has years of trauma and gender roles beaten into him that he has to unpack.

His choice to cook? That’s a huge rebellion. Wearing tight fitting suits that look sinful? That’s a middle finger to his dad. He always treats women like goddesses because he feels so much guilt for the sins of his father. When he finally joins the Strawhats, he’s so overwhelmed with how free and nonjudgmental they are (of important stuff, obviously they’ll still poke fun at small stuff) that he feels comfortable dropping little comments here and there, opening up.

Ussop will be comforting Nami about something and sanji will tell him is so refreshing to see a man be so nurturing. He goes to Ussop often, asking how he’s so confident sharing his emotions.

Nami will be ordering them around and he’ll do everything she says with a smile, just happy to see her free to do what she wants (which is be a bossy bitch)

Zoro will talk about Kuina one night and Sanji will sob, overwhelmed with joy that she got to have all that strength and a friend like zoro even when faced with hurtful gender expectations.

Luffy above all is the most jarring for him. He grew up hearing about sin and sinners and temptation and evil but when he sees Luffy doing his thing, taking down bad people, fighting for the underdog, he knows that if there is a God (he she it they? Who cares), Luffy is doing their work.

——————

Bonus Gay Cherry on top is that Sanji meets Iva and gets into drag, starts performing, does some events, and through that gender liberation is able to find some peace in who he is, tucking away all the hate he was born into. And he ends up with zoro the end bye

#too long don’t read #one piece christian trauma au??? #east blue crew au text post #black leg sanji #monkey d luffy #east blue crew #one piece #text post #cat burglar nami #god usopp #sanji #roronoa zoro

[just-jae]

Hazbin Hoetl 5-6

Spoiler warning!

Not gonna lie, at first I was cringing a bit at Lucifer. I was expecting him the have, like, grace and baddie energy. but he's talking to himself pretending to show off rubber ducks to a crowd.

And of all the potential dynamics he and Al could have had, competing father figures was NOT on my mind at all dude. Al? Dad?

But, I watched these last two episodes a couple (okay maybe several) times over and, it's really growing on me. It was definitely the predeveloped impressions getting in the way of really enjoying these characters. Even the irks I had about Alastor aren't really irks anymore, especially with "Dad beat Dad having much better animation and a banger number for Al (seriously wtf he's horrific in this episode)--

"Could you butt out of my song?"

"Your song? I started this!"

"I'm singing it, I'll finish it!"

Before, I was seeing it as how well they pull off my (and arguably the long simmering fandom's) idea of these characters instead of how well the characters as they actually are are told. So many people thought this show would be a super serious deep dive on Christianity and commentary on religion itself. But at this point, it really feels like Heavan and Hell are metaphores. They focus a lot more on personal issues like relationships, coping mechanisms, flaws like nievety, displaced senses of self worth, etc.

Charlie's idea of what "gets people into heaven" is naive and brochure-like. Adam gave a literal list of three items that seemed overly simplistic (and turned out to be wrong).

But at least they had some idea about it. The higher angels themselves had no clue whatsoever, their only concern was preserving the status quo. And even when things are called to question they fall back to old ways just bc they're scared to change anything. Sera didn't have any malice toward Hell, she just doesn't want to make things worse, having Angels fall, have Hell attack Earth or Heaven, have more evil spread, by changing things.

Getting a better idea of what all of this is about makes it so much easier to appreciate things I initially was put off by. It just has a context that it fits into now.

Lucifer being this disillusioned depressed dork with "yeaaaah, No." energy fits into what we've seen of heavenly culture (uncanny innocence, annoying teen pop-culture energy, being perfectionist yet blind to their own flaws)

And The "Hell's Great Dad" song really broke the ice, especially when Mimzy busted in singing ITS MEEEEEEE-- like

Love her. I wasn't expecting to see Mimzy AT ALL since she was removed from the main cast. And after seeing people talk about her and how they were wondering about her, it definitely felt like popping in the way she did was a response to that. Even I was wondering bc you don't just drop a former love interest for a character like Alastor, but still have them show up in the pilot-- I wanted to see Mimzy lol.

like literally:

"It's MEEE, It's MEEE,

I know you were all waiting for MEEEE!

I'm Here, what a GAAAS,

Took a while but I'm here at LAAST"

Like, im sorry but I felt like she was pointing at me personally, not the other characters, and that was hilarious.

It's so random but doesn't feel out of place at all somehow. The tensions were already super high, so a random screaming woman busting in with even higher energy is like-- wtf?? :'D??

She was a blast the entire time tho, and actually tied into the reoccurring theme of only reaching out to someone so they can do something for you.

It also definitely pinched a side of Alastor, irritating that he does apparently NEED to be there, there's some obligation he actually has to the hotel, or at the very least some stakes to not holding things together, not bc he defended the hotel but bc he specifically says "I can't have that here" , he also doesn't refute the claims Mimzy makes about him. Al clearly adores her and isn't surprised by her antics at all yet still tells her to leave. With the mention of Alastor's "leash" in the same episode BC of Mimzy was just such a great way to use her character. A fun entrance, thematic relevance, and a great plot device to reveal more about Alastor's situation and motives.

Like I said, at first the food tasted cold. I was thinking to myself "Eh, nothing really that crazy ig" but the more I watch the episodes and get over whatever my expectations were, the more I enjoy what's there.

Like, at first I was thinking, "Oh no Lucy's another akward dork, a normie, a loooooserr" (not that being an akward dork or a normie is bad but those were the vibes I was giving off, I'm sorry)

But I keep watching "Hell's Greatest Dad" and NOW it's like

LOOK AT HIM< LOOK AT HIM GO

Like, he's fugghing adorable with the "WAP BAP BOOM"

the puppets and the circus imagery, and just the innocent unmalicious enthusiasm. He's stumbling around over barely knowing his daughter and is now sprinting to make up for being so absent-- and even that absence is implied to be due to chronic depression and pining, missing heaven and having to live in hell forever, not only being the one who supposedly created it by accident, but tried and failed to fix it, even having his own theme park ripped off by a deadly Sin. The show calls it out bluntly, but despite his cheery tone and, yeaaah, no, yeaaah, no" attitude, they did a great job showing that his depression manifested in detachment and disinterest. It sucks for the people it effects but it also sucks to be the one who dropped the ropes in your relationships.

So seeing him brjghtenup and glow over just helping his Charlie put her hotel together was great. He feels useful and wanted again. And imo it's a double edge sword as well if Lucy feels like he has to be useful to be a decent dad.

So, idk. I guess I do want to see how he handles trying to be in Charlie's life again, especially since, at this point Alastor knows and has supported her more than he ever has-- despite the rough beginning and the mockery. (Also Lilith's face being faded out was sus af)

I'm convinced that in Al's case it's definitely not from a genuine place, at least, we still have no reason to believe it is. He was glaring at Lucy as soon as he walked in, and the nearly every comment on how great his relationship with Charlie is was also a jab to piss off Lucy instead of a genuine expression.

A performance, in short.

Still, the fact that someone who's only just met Charlie has a better relationship with her than her father has got to suck to realize if you're the father.

Also-- the scene at the club-- I was pretty mixed about it, like, doing drugs, itself isn't bad-- it can be unhealthy and it can put others at risk if you're resigning your cognizance and self control for the sake of coping with stress-- so it can very easily enable bad things, especially if you become addicted, so,imo is pretty wreckless and definitely a vice. But it doesn't make you a bad person.

But then again angels also seem to think premarital sex and promiscuity is bad too. (Promiscuity puts you at risk for disease, and like drugs can be driven by vices, but, again, the thing itself isn't bad and can still be a healthy practice when it comes from a healthy place)

I'm genuinely proud of Angel for actually growing though, seeing him take care of Nifty and protect her from Val got me on the "Fuck em up" energy. It's always great to see a group of friends watching out for eachother when they know there's a danger to what they're doing-- ESPECIALLY when one of them is new to it all. That's why if you ARE going to do drugs or drink or whatever, definitely don't do it alone or without someone you trust with your safety.

And also never feel like you have to do those things to maintain relationships, some people feel like it would be an insult to imply they dont trust someone or just for being disinterested in their offer. And, frankly there are people who will prey on that.

That was just a great scene. It had some flaws, but was still great.

Also--

PENTIOUS

I HATE

BROTHERMAN MADE ALL THE MISTAKES.

"Bc I'M HAVING SEX WITH EVERY--"

THATS NOT WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY YOU FUCK

Also, not gonna lie but Sera's got me like

Its been a while since I've been down bad for a femenine character.

She is beauty, she is grace~

#hazbin hotel #spoilers #commentary #sir pentious #alastor #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #seraphim #angel dust #sera #brownthoughts00

[kagekitsuneoflight]

Hazbin Hotel criticism has been done so much by so many people about very real and serious things but I’m throwing my hat in the ring because this is something most people don’t talk about often.

Hazbin is boring and it misuses it’s setting and biblical characters/inspirations. Or rather it doesn’t use them in a way that’s actually interesting.

For a show about heaven and hell and blatant Christian setting it sure does seem to only take the aesthetics. And not even the visual aesthetics. It’s not even clear on which branch of Christianity it’s drawing from.

This is going to be done with a casual tone and it’s not very well structured because I am not being paid to write about my grievances.

Adam’s motivation as a villain is so shallow and flat. You’re telling me he’s doing this for funsies? For a laugh? Adam was made in God’s image. What does this say about the guy. For a show whose themes is about going “not everything is black and white!” It sure does make him (even visually) black and white. Which is just sooooooo. Boring. Here’s an actually interesting idea that also makes Lucifer more interesting. Adam was cast out of Eden, which was paradise on earth, all because of how Satan (aka Lucifer) tempted Eve (and thus Adam) into sin. So why not make Adam’s enthusiasm for rampaging through hell so that he’s wrecking a Lucifer’s hellish paradise in revenge? If Adam had to suffer then so too should Lucifer. It’s *Lucifer’s* fault after all.

Lets not even get into how Lucifer and Satan are technically two different people. It’s a common thing. But still if you went with Lucifer’s actual story where he’s being so jealous about humanity that he went out of his way to RUIN it all for them. it gives him more depth then him being Depressed. And loves his daughter.

It opens so much more that you can do with *both* characters. It also makes Charlie’s motivation to redeem sinners carry a more personal weight than just. Doing it because it’s right. Her dad was the catalyst! She’s taking on the sins of her father! Make her LEARN that as his child, she does not need to feel responsible for what he’s done. (And, hey, maybe have Vaggie be the one to teach her that! You know, the Angel? The one who would best be able to teach how to change from sin? And not just be “haha fuddy duddy no fun allowed” character.)

Saint Peter is in the show. Saint Peter is there. I am not going to get into Saint Peter because the implications and questions it poses is going to make me insane. And he’s probably only there because of how ingrained it is that *he’s* the one who greets you at those pearly gates. He’s pop culture Saint Peter and not the actual Saint Peter.

Now you might be wondering “what about Lilith she’s clearly going to be the antagonist in the second season.” Yeah she can still have that. We have no real basis on how much she’s done or doing. The only real motivation we have is that she wants to stay in heaven.

(My theory (aka what I think would make Lilith interesting) is that Lilith originally planned to try and outnumber and out power hell so then she could try and take paradise for herself. But obviously the yearly exterminations put a damper on the plan. I bet she was *happy* to be with Lucifer. I bet she loved her family. But she’s in hell. She’s in hell and the queen and her subjects do not respect her (if they do not respect charlie or lucifer, then they will not respect her) and when you have known what paradise on earth is, well you’d want it back. Originally you might’ve planned to take your entire family with you. But you just can’t manage it. Your husband is wallowing and tells stories but he takes no action. You start to resent him. Your daughter has heard his stories and has taken on his naïve hopefulness and maybe that’s what you loved about your husband when you fell into sin with him, but now it just reminds you of what you had and what you cannot reclaim and she looks *so much like her father* you start to resent her too. It’s Lucifer’s fault that you’re here. It’s Charlie’s fault that you stay. And then something changes. You strike a deal. You get to stay in heaven. The paradise you want.)

In a good world this is what Lilith’s motivations are. Which is a lot of words for saying Charlie should have this final “the child shall not bare the sins of the father.” Moment during her confrontation with Lilith. (This would have been something that was slowly built up during the show.)

Charlie shouldn’t be trying to redeem sinners in an attempt to apologize for her father’s actions. She should be doing it because it’s the right thing to do. (You know, for a main character, she sure does remain rather stagnant.)

What else did I want to point out the flaws for.

Ah right ass backwards way that Sinners apparently get redeemed. You are making a show about Catholicism you better get the absolute basics of it down. (We don’t know the breed unfortunately.)

Yeah so like. It should be remorse. You should be seeking out forgiveness for your sins. Not doing one selfless act and then getting killed immediately. And you can have! A very very interesting way of discovering this! You can have Charlie thinking that sinners need to become Good. (And you know, What Is Good.) She could confuse Goodness with Niceness. She could think that so long as they just Stop Being Bad, they get into heaven.

You can have Charlie lean into the whole Fire and Brimstone levels of Being Good. And then have to unlearn that! Angeldust (just using him as the example) Isn’t a sinner because he does sex work and drugs. He is a sinner because of whatever he did to get into hell. He needs to feel remorse for his *actual* sins, and seek out forgiveness before he gets redeemed. (from heaven, ig. Who the fuck is god anyways is god going to be a twink. is there a god? if not then wHY IS SAINT PETER-)

(TAKE NOTES. This is a great way to explore a character’s backstory beyond what’s told via Word of God (a la vizzie) and squinting at the aesthetics and motifs of a character and guessing what they did.)

Being redeemed through remorse can also carry a conflict! Let’s take one of the most morally reprehensible characters on the show. Valentino. Let’s say he has a sudden change of heart. Not a halfassed one. (It has to be REAL to make it an actual conflict). He realizes that what he’s done is vile, evil and reprehensible. He seeks out forgiveness. It is granted.

Because the only forgiveness you need (for Christians) is the forgiveness from god. (or heaven?? Ig?????)

Is there no sin that is beyond forgiveness? Is there no one beyond redemption? Is that whole all encompassing love from god schtick actually real, not clickbait?

I don’t know. Hazbin Hotel doesn’t want to get that deep into it. Because they just want to do a Heaven Bad????? Hell Good???? Or maybe???? Both are Bad and Good??????????? Story.

There is a lot more that I can nitpick and offer criticism to, or simply go “hey wouldn’t this be better?” To with this series. Because I think the concept can work really, *really* well. But it falls so flat on its face that it’s become concave.

#hazbin hotel #I’m just saying I’m just saying #you can do soooo much with this idea #shut up kage