For korinacaffeine
Title: White
Recipient: korinacaffeine
Author: rosehiptea
Pairing: Pyramid Head x Maria
Warning: Explicit sex
Maria remembers a white wedding. Her gown is long and made from white satin, and her eyes are surrounded by a filmy white veil as she gazes at the man she is destined for. It’s a church that she is in, with wooden pews and white lilies surrounding her. At the altar stands James, looking unaccustomed and awkward in a deep black tuxedo. She takes slow steps, searching for his eyes through her veil, and the few people in the pews gaze at her like the passage of a queen. Another man in black is there, to say traditional words, and she feels the cold metal of a wedding band sliding up her finger.
Of course, it really isn’t her wedding. It’s Mary’s, and Maria isn’t - damn it, is not Mary. Though James was certainly the man Maria was destined for. That’s the whole problem, really. James is gone now and once again Maria isn’t dead. Maybe she should be, since she was made for James and he has pushed her away as if he deserves better, simply because she wasn’t Mary. Not as pure? Not as soft as kind? But Maria doesn’t give up so easily. She lives, even without him.
The town is fairly dead, though. Most of the monsters seem to have disappeared. Now and then she still sees a faceless nurse in the distant fog, but they show no interest in her. Is there any escape? She hasn’t really bothered looking yet. If there is still a world out there, and there probably is since James had to go somewhere, Maria knows nothing about it and is probably not suited for it anyway. If James doesn’t want her, probably his world won’t let her in either.
There are other memories, too. A darkened night club, filled with smoke and people. Men, all of them, and all eyes directed at the stage where she dances. She wears nothing but a tiny pair of denim shorts and a lacy red bra. And she moves, all gleaming flesh displayed for their pleasure. These men don’t look at her like a queen, but she knows she can command them anyway, and they oblige her now with leers and thrown money.
Maria realizes now that even that isn’t really who she is either. It’s a Maria, but it isn’t her. She is only the one who awoke in this place. James’ punishment, his private Fury, his nemesis. But James is gone and damn it she is still here and she is not going to lie down and die just to please this fucking town.
She enters Heaven’s Night and ascends to the tiny stage. There is no music now, and no people, but she dances anyway. She moves sinuously, beckoning with her arms and inviting with her hips. A part of her knows how to do this very well, and she lets that take over.
Then she sees him. The man in the helmet. Not all the monsters are gone from this place.
She cannot quite call him a thing, not when he is so clearly male and borders on human. If this were a sane place, she might hate him. But this is a place where pain means little and death means nothing, so she just keeps dancing. An audience is an audience.
He stays in the shadows, watching. Does she entertain him? She reaches toward him with her hands, but he doesn’t move. Yet she’s certain that he has eyes and that they are focused on her. Slowly she intensifies the dance, growing bolder, unbuttoning her top and letting it slip to the stage. “I am Maria,” she mouths, talking to the one who watches as well as to herself.
Pyramid Head does not move for a long time, just watching as Maria moves for him. Finally, when she kneels on the stage and stops dancing, he turns and leaves. She watches him go, dragging the knife behind him, wondering why she is disappointed. He probably isn’t a very good conversation partner, and the most entertaining thing he knows how to do seems to involve that knife. But then again, she reminds herself, he is male and he was watching her, and she knows what that usually means.
That night she sleeps in the Lakeview Hotel, in a giant bed covered with a velvet coverlet. She dreams of sex.
First it is an awkward wedding night, a discarded white dress on the carpet beside them. James’s bare chest is pressed onto her hard, his awkward condom-encased penis probing her. It hurts, and she squirms to breathe. He supports himself on his hands, panting. Of course this isn’t Maria, any Maria. It’s just Mary.
Did all of this really happen to her? Surely even Mary must have had more fun than this. Perhaps James learned over time? Or perhaps, Maria thinks to herself, James was just a selfish son of a bitch. There is always that possibility.
The next dream is not quite as unpleasant as the first one. It involves the alley next to Heaven’s Night and a man whose name or face she doesn’t know or remember. Clearly this time it isn’t Mary but the first Maria. Her skirt is pushed up over her hips and the man’s strong warm fingers are inside her. She moans softly into his ear and he chuckles to himself. People are walking on the nearby street but Maria doesn’t really care if they are seen. This time she is disappointed when she wakes up.
The next dream she is being fucked again, this time roughly and pleasurably. Her eyes are closed as this man’s cock fills her and her head rests against a strong chest that certainly does not belong to James. She doesn’t know where she is and doesn’t really care. But is this Mary or Maria? She lifts her head to look at the face of her mystery lover but sees only metal. She awakens, her hand between her legs.
Here, nothing is only a dream. The town is trying to tell her something as always.
In the morning she sips tea in the hotel dining room as if she is an honored guest rather than a discarded Fury. Then she takes the long walk back into town. The fog is still thick, but shining through it, on a wall in an alley near the motel, she sees a giant circle of glowing red runes. It wasn’t there yesterday, which isn’t unusual here. When she gets there, she realizes it is a hole - not a hole in the wall, but a dark passage. It is a tunnel to somewhere else, but Maria has no idea where.
Next to the runes something else is scrawled, this word in a dull red like blood. The writing is strange and awkward, but she can read it. It says “Maria.” She is certain she knows who left it, and when she turns to see Pyramid Head standing across the alley she isn’t surprised at all.
The knife leans against the wall next to him, and his gloved hands are empty when he extends them toward her. She walks to him, knowing already what he wants. When she gets close enough, he puts his hands on her hips without preamble.
“Hey, don’t rush,” she says playfully, though she is fairly certain he doesn’t understand play. He is not James, but he is also James’s nemesis, so perhaps they are comrades now. Either way, her dream told her everything she needs to know. She puts her arms around him and leans against his chest.
He does rush, lifting his apron to show her a large erection. Maria throws her head back and laughs. There is no one to see, and no one to care, so she tears the apron from his body. He is far more muscular than James, and covered in ancient scars. She traces her hands over his chest, then down to the thatch of hair between his legs. There is no point in teasing him. Maria strokes his cock, watching as his body stiffens with arousal like any other man’s.
She tries to forget the memories that crowd her mind, and concentrates only on the feel of Pyramid Head’s skin. He puts one of his large hands between her legs, now, and tears at her panties. She removes them, placing them carefully on the ground. Pyramid Head strokes her now, and he is just as rough and persistent as she thought he would be, but Maria is wet and aching in minutes, parting her thighs for him.
He lifts her easily, and she winds her legs around his waist, taking his cock up inside her. Her head rests just below his helmet. Then it is her dream, and he is fucking her, grinding himself into her, and she is crying out softly for more. The pleasure builds as he thrusts. Pyramid Head makes no sound, but she can feel his harsh breathing. He isn’t slow, and he isn’t careful, but neither she nor her memory selves have ever had better.
Maria feels it then, the claws growing from her fingertips. She rakes them down his back and he pushes himself into her even harder. With her fangs she nips at his neck. Her tail grows and wraps around his legs. Butterflies surround her as she comes, convulsing around his cock. She feels him come too, and wonders what it means to him. Nothing, she is certain, but it doesn’t matter.
He lowers her to the ground, and she feels her form change back to Maria’s - no tail, no fangs. But she still feels a wild otherness inside her that Pyramid Head has awoken. She knows if she stays she will become fully a creature of the town, and it’s almost tempting.
But the passage in the wall is calling to her. Wherever it leads, it’s there for her. Pyramid Head, still wearing only his helmet, watches as she arranges her clothing and turns her back to him. Just as she reaches the hole, she turns and waves to him, and she sees him nod in reply. Perhaps he understands everything, more than she does.
At the far end of the tunnel there is light, and she knows there is a world there. It may not be James’s world, but she doesn’t need James anyway. She is demon, she is woman, she is queen. She is her own Maria, and from now on she will have victory wherever she goes. Smiling, she enters the tunnel and leaves Silent Hill behind.
Recipient: korinacaffeine
Author: rosehiptea
Pairing: Pyramid Head x Maria
Warning: Explicit sex
Maria remembers a white wedding. Her gown is long and made from white satin, and her eyes are surrounded by a filmy white veil as she gazes at the man she is destined for. It’s a church that she is in, with wooden pews and white lilies surrounding her. At the altar stands James, looking unaccustomed and awkward in a deep black tuxedo. She takes slow steps, searching for his eyes through her veil, and the few people in the pews gaze at her like the passage of a queen. Another man in black is there, to say traditional words, and she feels the cold metal of a wedding band sliding up her finger.
Of course, it really isn’t her wedding. It’s Mary’s, and Maria isn’t - damn it, is not Mary. Though James was certainly the man Maria was destined for. That’s the whole problem, really. James is gone now and once again Maria isn’t dead. Maybe she should be, since she was made for James and he has pushed her away as if he deserves better, simply because she wasn’t Mary. Not as pure? Not as soft as kind? But Maria doesn’t give up so easily. She lives, even without him.
The town is fairly dead, though. Most of the monsters seem to have disappeared. Now and then she still sees a faceless nurse in the distant fog, but they show no interest in her. Is there any escape? She hasn’t really bothered looking yet. If there is still a world out there, and there probably is since James had to go somewhere, Maria knows nothing about it and is probably not suited for it anyway. If James doesn’t want her, probably his world won’t let her in either.
There are other memories, too. A darkened night club, filled with smoke and people. Men, all of them, and all eyes directed at the stage where she dances. She wears nothing but a tiny pair of denim shorts and a lacy red bra. And she moves, all gleaming flesh displayed for their pleasure. These men don’t look at her like a queen, but she knows she can command them anyway, and they oblige her now with leers and thrown money.
Maria realizes now that even that isn’t really who she is either. It’s a Maria, but it isn’t her. She is only the one who awoke in this place. James’ punishment, his private Fury, his nemesis. But James is gone and damn it she is still here and she is not going to lie down and die just to please this fucking town.
She enters Heaven’s Night and ascends to the tiny stage. There is no music now, and no people, but she dances anyway. She moves sinuously, beckoning with her arms and inviting with her hips. A part of her knows how to do this very well, and she lets that take over.
Then she sees him. The man in the helmet. Not all the monsters are gone from this place.
She cannot quite call him a thing, not when he is so clearly male and borders on human. If this were a sane place, she might hate him. But this is a place where pain means little and death means nothing, so she just keeps dancing. An audience is an audience.
He stays in the shadows, watching. Does she entertain him? She reaches toward him with her hands, but he doesn’t move. Yet she’s certain that he has eyes and that they are focused on her. Slowly she intensifies the dance, growing bolder, unbuttoning her top and letting it slip to the stage. “I am Maria,” she mouths, talking to the one who watches as well as to herself.
Pyramid Head does not move for a long time, just watching as Maria moves for him. Finally, when she kneels on the stage and stops dancing, he turns and leaves. She watches him go, dragging the knife behind him, wondering why she is disappointed. He probably isn’t a very good conversation partner, and the most entertaining thing he knows how to do seems to involve that knife. But then again, she reminds herself, he is male and he was watching her, and she knows what that usually means.
That night she sleeps in the Lakeview Hotel, in a giant bed covered with a velvet coverlet. She dreams of sex.
First it is an awkward wedding night, a discarded white dress on the carpet beside them. James’s bare chest is pressed onto her hard, his awkward condom-encased penis probing her. It hurts, and she squirms to breathe. He supports himself on his hands, panting. Of course this isn’t Maria, any Maria. It’s just Mary.
Did all of this really happen to her? Surely even Mary must have had more fun than this. Perhaps James learned over time? Or perhaps, Maria thinks to herself, James was just a selfish son of a bitch. There is always that possibility.
The next dream is not quite as unpleasant as the first one. It involves the alley next to Heaven’s Night and a man whose name or face she doesn’t know or remember. Clearly this time it isn’t Mary but the first Maria. Her skirt is pushed up over her hips and the man’s strong warm fingers are inside her. She moans softly into his ear and he chuckles to himself. People are walking on the nearby street but Maria doesn’t really care if they are seen. This time she is disappointed when she wakes up.
The next dream she is being fucked again, this time roughly and pleasurably. Her eyes are closed as this man’s cock fills her and her head rests against a strong chest that certainly does not belong to James. She doesn’t know where she is and doesn’t really care. But is this Mary or Maria? She lifts her head to look at the face of her mystery lover but sees only metal. She awakens, her hand between her legs.
Here, nothing is only a dream. The town is trying to tell her something as always.
In the morning she sips tea in the hotel dining room as if she is an honored guest rather than a discarded Fury. Then she takes the long walk back into town. The fog is still thick, but shining through it, on a wall in an alley near the motel, she sees a giant circle of glowing red runes. It wasn’t there yesterday, which isn’t unusual here. When she gets there, she realizes it is a hole - not a hole in the wall, but a dark passage. It is a tunnel to somewhere else, but Maria has no idea where.
Next to the runes something else is scrawled, this word in a dull red like blood. The writing is strange and awkward, but she can read it. It says “Maria.” She is certain she knows who left it, and when she turns to see Pyramid Head standing across the alley she isn’t surprised at all.
The knife leans against the wall next to him, and his gloved hands are empty when he extends them toward her. She walks to him, knowing already what he wants. When she gets close enough, he puts his hands on her hips without preamble.
“Hey, don’t rush,” she says playfully, though she is fairly certain he doesn’t understand play. He is not James, but he is also James’s nemesis, so perhaps they are comrades now. Either way, her dream told her everything she needs to know. She puts her arms around him and leans against his chest.
He does rush, lifting his apron to show her a large erection. Maria throws her head back and laughs. There is no one to see, and no one to care, so she tears the apron from his body. He is far more muscular than James, and covered in ancient scars. She traces her hands over his chest, then down to the thatch of hair between his legs. There is no point in teasing him. Maria strokes his cock, watching as his body stiffens with arousal like any other man’s.
She tries to forget the memories that crowd her mind, and concentrates only on the feel of Pyramid Head’s skin. He puts one of his large hands between her legs, now, and tears at her panties. She removes them, placing them carefully on the ground. Pyramid Head strokes her now, and he is just as rough and persistent as she thought he would be, but Maria is wet and aching in minutes, parting her thighs for him.
He lifts her easily, and she winds her legs around his waist, taking his cock up inside her. Her head rests just below his helmet. Then it is her dream, and he is fucking her, grinding himself into her, and she is crying out softly for more. The pleasure builds as he thrusts. Pyramid Head makes no sound, but she can feel his harsh breathing. He isn’t slow, and he isn’t careful, but neither she nor her memory selves have ever had better.
Maria feels it then, the claws growing from her fingertips. She rakes them down his back and he pushes himself into her even harder. With her fangs she nips at his neck. Her tail grows and wraps around his legs. Butterflies surround her as she comes, convulsing around his cock. She feels him come too, and wonders what it means to him. Nothing, she is certain, but it doesn’t matter.
He lowers her to the ground, and she feels her form change back to Maria’s - no tail, no fangs. But she still feels a wild otherness inside her that Pyramid Head has awoken. She knows if she stays she will become fully a creature of the town, and it’s almost tempting.
But the passage in the wall is calling to her. Wherever it leads, it’s there for her. Pyramid Head, still wearing only his helmet, watches as she arranges her clothing and turns her back to him. Just as she reaches the hole, she turns and waves to him, and she sees him nod in reply. Perhaps he understands everything, more than she does.
At the far end of the tunnel there is light, and she knows there is a world there. It may not be James’s world, but she doesn’t need James anyway. She is demon, she is woman, she is queen. She is her own Maria, and from now on she will have victory wherever she goes. Smiling, she enters the tunnel and leaves Silent Hill behind.