abnormalizes | Seasons: IC Contact/Continuations

I have no problem with it. You are the one whose chest was torn into like an animal.

[Said, of course, as he moves to lay back for her, letting his trousers bunch up around his calves while everything else is on display.]

... I'm merely surprised that you seem to have no issues discussing it during.
The average person would consider it fucked up, you know.

It is what it is, and what it is is an important point of consideration when it comes to sex position.

[She pulls off her skirt and underwear and tosses them aside, then straddles him and lowers herself carefully down. She takes a moment just to breathe, to get used to the feeling of him inside her-

-and then immediately starts bouncing on him with enthusiasm, riding him hard and fast.]

Ah, god --

[Yeah, that enthusiasm is noticeable, and he's more-or-less forced to grab onto her thighs just from how much it is; he feels as though he's going to topple right off the sofa from it... or maybe die outright, considering he's still new to this whole "fucking" thing -
He needs to mentally catch up with it all, legs spreading and his heel pushing into the arm of his couch like that will somehow slow things down and make it easier to catch up.]

You - you truly waste no time, hm...!

I aim to please.

[And also to have a fun time herself, that's also important.

She keeps that same rhythm, a small mercy to make it easier for him to get adjusted to her movements. Grinning down at him, she squeezes her own chest, letting out a shameless moan of,] Louis...

[It may be a small mercy, but it's a mercy nonetheless - it does make it easier to just ease into the speed she's moving at, grinding against her everytime she brings her hips down against his.
It's a lot, but it's a good kind of "a lot", he's decided. Like a bath that's just a little bit too hot, but in a way that's pleasant.

...

And then she has to go and do that, which -
Well, keeping up with the bath analogy, it's a lot like she's taken a bowl of cold water and dumped it over his head right as he'd gotten used to the heat.
His fingers grip at her thighs, nails digging into them, as his expression goes uncertain and wobbly... but he doesn't do anything to stop, either, his own movements against her picking up despite the aches of it all and the nausea still settled in his stomach.

Should he be working so hard? Absolutely not.
But what else is he supposed to do in the face of her moaning his name like that?]

-Not the kind of expression I'm hoping to see when moaning your name, not gonna lie.

[She slows down a little, putting her hand over his on her thigh.]

You okay?

[Now that she's slowing down for him, it's clear he's already panting and worn out... but he neither nods nor shakes his head in response, instead just shutting his eyes and leaning his head back against the sofa for a moment.
Just a moment, as he thinks of how to explain his thoughts.]

... I...
Don't know.

[His grip on her thighs goes firm, now, to try and still her completely. ... With himself still inside her, of course.
But it's a gentle "okay, stop, let's talk".]

- Something about hearing it after everything I have done feels... strange.
This is not something I've ever felt before - like something in my chest has been wrapped in thorns and vines, tugging tight just hearing you moan like that...

[Evangeline stops the moment he gently urges her to. She gives the back of his hand a squeeze.]

Would it help if I told you again that I forgive you?

[He goes quiet, hearing that. Clearly needing to think about it, letting out a sigh as he turns it over in his mind.]

... Not as much as I wish it would.

Please, don't get me wrong - I want this so badly... I would love nothing more than to let you ride me like it's going out of fashion.
If I had the choice, I'd allow you to fuck me until I fall unconscious. And I feel no shame admitting this.

But somehow, at the same time, it makes me feel as though we're stirring the contents of my chest cavity with a spiked mace.

...Okay. It sounds like we should stop, then?

[She's worked up, but her arousal is not nearly as important as his comfort. She doesn't want to hurt him even the tiniest bit.]

Oh, no, no--
I am certain that if we stop, I'll burst into flames and perish right here on the spot.

We Grim Reapers are resilient, able to handle everything from mortal wounds, to starvation, to hyperthermia, all without batting an eye - but we aren't immune to being blueballed.
Unfortunately.

[Notably, he's not letting go of her thighs at all. No getting up yet, they're not done??]

... I just -
Feel we must address the elephant in the room. In that, as always, whatever is happening in my head is a confusing, garbled mess that not even I follow along with most days, and it's chosen this as something to be quite a bit more confusing and garbled about.
I think I am feeling...

[He trails off, looking to the side as he clearly tries his best to untangle the multicolored, hallucinogenic mess that is his own thought patterns -
And then, with a tone in his voice as if this is the most alien word he has ever heard and could choose to say:]

... Remorse...?

[...This is clearly a difficult thing for him to grapple with, so she will not say the first thing that came to her mind, which was 'duh'.]

That would make sense. That's a pretty reasonable thing to wish to not have done.

Well... yes - you are right about that.
A normal person... they would look back at such actions and feel remorse, wouldn't they?

[His hold on her thighs lightens up a bit, and he starts to rub one of his thumbs in a little circle against her skin.]

... That I feel it at all is a testament to you and your ability to worm your way inside of people, you know.
I can't remember a time where I have felt it this strongly - and for reasons beyond disliking the consequences.

Of which there have been none, mind you; somehow, I am walking away from my crimes completely scot-free, and instead of being happy about such a thing... it feels wrong.

[She feels confident he’s never killed and eaten a friend before, and it’s less that she herself is special.]

…I think dealing with guilt is kind of a consequence. Maybe even a more effective one than the violence other people would inflict on you.

[It certainly helps that he's never had a friend before, too.
Aside from Jean, of course.]

If it is a consequence, then it's an awful one. A proper consequence should have a time limit, something you can look forward to after dealing with sitting in timeout for so long -
I don't foresee this going away anytime soon.

Unless I somehow manage to make you hate me, of course. But that is obviously not happening, either - and, at least at this exact moment in time, I...
Can't say that I want you to.

Not happening. [Gently.] But at least in my experience, guilt fades over time. It won’t hurt this much forever.

... I should hope so.
It feels gross and I don't like it.

[Said with the exact tone you'd expect from a rich brat who probably has an undiagnosed personality disorder, honestly.
He feels the remorse and the guilt, sure, but he has very little actual emotional attachment to them -

They're just there, being gross in his chest when he should be having fun. Nuisances, really.]

Kind of the point. It wouldn’t be an effective way of getting you to not do the thing again if it was a pleasant feeling.

Yes, well, that does not make me hate it less.
It is also not the reason I promised not to do that to you again, mind. Were you a mere acquaintance, there'd be a very strong chance I would do it again the moment you gave me a reason. Whether I felt guilt for the first go 'round or not.

[Pausing, thinking, letting out a thoughtful little hum -]

Well, no, I suppose the chance would still be slim with you... but only because it's clearly had little effect. Why attempt something a second time if the first had no effect?
It would be pointless.

But, no, the guilt is not why I refuse to treat you that way. I simply feel that you deserve better than that.
You did nothing to earn such treatment, and with how you are, there's no way you ever will earn it in the future, either.

Oh - thank you? I appreciate that.

…Like I said, I always figured there was a good chance I’d go that way, so… thank you for wanting better for me.

It is not that I want better for you, but that you deserve better.
Please keep that in mind, because it applies to how others treat you, too. Not just myself.

[He's still rubbing little idle circles in the skin of her thigh, of course. Still seated nice and firm inside of her, too.
Honestly, he can't say he dislikes this. Someone teach him what cockwarming is, because he's pretty down with this --]

... You really do have such a high tolerance for nonsense, though.
I'm well aware of how I sound when I speak, sometimes - most would hear me say the things I've just said and consider me some sort of cartoon villain.

I appreciate this about you, considering I seem to be some sort of uncontrollable villainesque nonsense generator.

[She can't complain! He feels nice.]

Your feelings and perspectives aren't nonsense. Even if they're different from most people's, that doesn't make them nonsense.

Oh, you simply refuse to let me treat myself in the way I deserve to be treated, don't you?
Fine. My feelings may not be "nonsense", but that does not save them from appearing villainesque and garish regardless.

After all, I just told you that even if you managed to deserve it, I wouldn't kill and eat you a second time as it had no effect.
And because it's upset my stomach.

Well. Yeah, that is pretty villain-y, I guess.

[It does make her chuckle, though.]

I guess I've got a high tolerance for villains.

You have a high tolerance for many things you ought not be tolerating at all, but villainy does appear to be one of them, yes.
I have a very strong feeling I am nowhere near the worst person you know, after all.

Despite what I've done to you, personally.

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