isthatanascot

[meazalykov]

wrong number

bayern munich frauen x lena oberdorf x reader

1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6

summary: you're the honorary bayern munich teammate.

the excitement fills your veins as you land in lisbon. 

you’re finally here, and it’s hard to believe. lena doesn't even know yet—you wanted to surprise her, to be there in person for the match of her life. it’s been a long journey from buying the ticket, keeping it quiet, and making your way to portugal, but every step felt worth it because nothing, absolutely nothing, would have kept you from being here to support lena in the champions league final.

hours later, you’re waiting anxiously in your hotel room when a knock finally comes. you open the door to find lena, looking tired but smiling, and her face lights up as she sees you.

"you made it," she says, stepping forward to hug you tightly. she lets out a deep breath, and you feel some of the tension melt from her shoulders.

"of course i did," you say, hugging her back, brushing a hand over her back. 

"how could i miss this? tomorrow’s the match of your life. are you nervous?"

she pulls back slightly, her smile fading as she flops onto the bed beside you. 

"yeah… a little," she admits, looking away. 

"it’s more than that, though. i keep thinking about the final in 2023… it’s like this shadow hanging over everything. it won’t go away." her voice goes quieter, and you see just how much she’s carrying from that day that you’re unfamiliar with.

you sit beside her, reaching out to take her hand. 

"do you want to talk about it? what happened in 2023?"

she nods, her gaze fixed on a spot across the room. 

"it was against barcelona, with wolfsburg. we were up 2-0, and then everything just… fell apart. they scored three goals in, like, eight minutes. i felt so helpless. all those months of training, just to lose like that. sometimes it feels like i haven’t shaken it off."

you squeeze her hand gently. 

"i can’t imagine how tough that must’ve been. losing on that stage, with everyone watching… it’s okay that it still hurts. a lot of people would feel the same. i also know that you’re stronger now."

she looks over at you, a small smile finally breaking through before giving you a light kiss. 

"thanks. i don’t know… i’ve tried to push it out of my head, but tomorrow feels like a chance to finally put it behind me. i want to prove to myself that i’m not that same person who let it slip away." she whispers against you.

you run your thumb across her knuckles, trying to pour all your reassurance into that small touch. 

"and you’re not. you’re here, stronger and smarter, and you’ve learned so much. but whatever happens tomorrow, you’re still amazing. i’m just so proud of you."

a soft blush colors her cheeks as she squeezes your hand back, her gaze meeting yours as her forehead rests against yours. 

"thank you. it really helps, having you here. more than you know."

after a while, she heads back to her hotel room for a good night's sleep, leaving you with a warm, happy feeling that stays with you until morning. 

it’s surreal, thinking back to a year ago when this whole thing started with a wrong number. now you’re here, in lisbon, to watch the woman you love play in one of the biggest games of her life.

the next day, you find yasmeen at the stadium entrance, her face lighting up when she spots you. she flew in from america just to keep you company, and you feel a rush of gratitude as you hug her.

"ready for the match of your life?" she grins, eyes sparkling.

"more ready than i’ve ever been," you laugh, feeling your own excitement build up. you’re both practically vibrating as you take your seats, and when the game kicks off, it’s all you can focus on. 

seeing lena on the bench doesn’t dim your excitement—she’ll get her moment, and you know it.

the game starts off tense. city’s vivianne scores in the 20th minute, and the bayern fans around you groan. you try to keep your spirits up, leaning forward and clapping.

"come on, girls!" you shout in german, even though your voice is quickly swallowed by the roar of the crowd.

yasmeen chuckles beside you, giving you a supportive pat. 

"you’re so into it already."

you grin. 

"it’s impossible not to be. they’re incredible."

just before halftime, bayern’s perseverance pays off. in the 45th minute, klara sets up a perfect cross, and pernille rises up to head it in, tying the score. 

you leap out of your seat, clapping wildly as yasmeen cheers beside you.

"yes! let’s go, harder!" you yell, grinning from ear to ear.

at halftime, a fan behind you taps your shoulder and asks for a photo. she’s wearing a lena jersey, and you assume she just wants a picture with "lena’s girlfriend." 

you’re hesitant but smile and take the photo with her. when yasmeen teases you, you roll your eyes and laugh it off, though you can’t deny you’re a little flattered.

"look at you, getting famous," yasmeen nudges you. 

"you’re practically the team’s mascot at this point."

"shut up," you laugh, feeling your cheeks warm. 

"all i am is lena’s slightly anxious but very supportive girlfriend."

the second half starts off rough. city’s bunny shaw scores twice in under nine minutes, and the atmosphere in the bayern section gets tense. you bite your lip, glancing at yasmeen for reassurance as the clock ticks on.

bayern doesn’t let up. lea schüller scores in the 55th minute just one minute after shaw scored city’s third goal, and it feels like a breath of fresh air. 

one more goal, and they’ll be even again. you clap, your hands sore but determined, and yell encouragement, hoping somehow the team can hear you all the way on the bench.

then, in the 68th minute, pernille gets her second goal, equalizing. the stadium erupts, and you jump out of your seat, pulling yasmeen into a hug. 

this match has you on the edge of your seat, your heart racing with every pass, every tackle.

a commotion catches your attention near the right side of the pitch, and you see sydney in a heated exchange with alex greenwood. sydney is keeping the ball away from greenwood as the ref tries to intervene. you can’t help but chuckle as yasmeen leans over. 

"what’s going on with them?"

"just sydney being sydney," you say, grinning. 

"kidding. i’m not sure, maybe sydney just wants to give her team a breather.” 

minutes later, in the 79th minute, lena stands at the sideline, preparing to sub in. your heart skips a beat as you slip off your light blue button-up longsleeve to reveal your oberdorf jersey underneath. yasmeen catches sight of it and snickers.

"i wonder if she’ll get a yellow card within the first five minutes."

"probably," you mutter with the pride in your voice. you’re just thrilled to see her out there, part of the game she’s worked so hard to return to.

she’s barely on the pitch when, in the 81st minute, she makes a classic side tackle on mary fowler, and you and yasmeen exchange a look. 

lena gets a warning, but she’s unfazed, her focus sharp.

the clock’s ticking, and tension fills the air. then, in the 88th minute, lena sets up an assist to sydney, who powers the ball into the net, bringing the score to 3-3. 

you jump up, screaming as loud as you can, caught up in the joy of the moment.

at this point, your mind starts to wander, reflecting on how far you’ve come. a year ago, you were just a student in virginia, living a quiet life. now, you’re in lisbon, watching the woman you love play in a champions league final, surrounded by friends and fans. it feels surreal.

yasmeen nudges you, drawing you back to the game. 

"imagine if lena scores the winning goal."

"i hope," you murmur, watching her with bated breath as she passes the ball to tuva, who then lightly passes it to ana. 

ana crosses up to klara, who leaps up for a perfect header. the ball sails into the net, and the stadium explodes in cheers. the scoreboard lights up,

4-3.

klara runs to the corner, celebrating, and you watch in awe as the team surrounds her. then she turns and sends a heart your way, her hands forming the shape in the air. you send one back, beaming as yasmeen chuckles beside you.

the final whistle blows, and it’s like the whole stadium erupts at once. the scoreboard is locked at 4-3, with bayern’s victory glowing bright, but it’s hard to believe until you see the girls flood the pitch, their faces breaking into elated, disbelieving smiles. 

yasmeen nudges you, and you turn to see her beaming.

“they really did it,” she says, a little in awe herself. 

“and they really love you, huh?” you laugh, heart swelling as you watch the team embrace, overcome by what they've achieved.

“guess i just got lucky,” you murmur, and you mean it.

after the immediate celebration dies down a bit, the trophy ceremony begins, the crowd cheering louder as each player receives their medal, eyes glistening with the weight of the win. confetti rains down, golden and shimmering in the stadium lights, and you feel a lump in your throat. they’ve worked so hard for this.

suddenly, you hear a voice calling your name. you turn to see sydney and tuva waving, beckoning you over. before you can process it, they’re running up, reaching over the barricade to pull you across it.

“you’re coming with us,” sydney insists, her grip firm, and tuva laughs, nodding in agreement. they drag you toward the heart of the celebration, and you glance back at yasmeen, who waves you off with a smile.

“go have fun!” she calls, and you smile back gratefully.

you barely have a second to catch your breath before you spot lena jogging toward you, her face flushed with happiness, eyes bright under the stadium lights. she wraps you in her arms, lifting you slightly, and you cling to her, laughing as she swings you back and forth.

“we did it,” she breathes, her voice full of amazement.

“you did it,” you correct, pulling back just enough to look at her. her eyes search yours, and you can see that same mixture of pride and disbelief.

“i still can’t believe it,” she whispers, her hands resting on your shoulders. 

“it feels… surreal.”

you smile, brushing a strand of confetti from her hair. 

“it’s real. and you deserve every bit of it, obi!”

lena smiles, a little teary-eyed, then leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingering there as if she wants to soak up the moment. 

“thank you for being here,” she says quietly, and you can hear the depth of her gratitude, her voice soft and genuine.

“i wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” you whisper back, feeling your own emotions rise.

nearby, klara is holding the trophy, posing for pictures, her grin as wide as you’ve ever seen. when she spots you, she waves you over, gesturing for you to come closer. you hesitate, feeling a rush of self-consciousness. 

you’re not a player, after all—you didn’t sweat and fight for this trophy like they did.

“come on!” klara calls, laughing at your reluctance. 

“get in here!”

you make your way over, feeling a bit out of place, and she hands you the trophy, the massive silver and blue prize weighing heavy in your hands. 

the moment feels surreal, and you look at klara, a little overwhelmed.

“are you sure?” you ask, voice soft.

she grins. 

“absolutely. you’re part of this team, too, you know.”

lena’s hand slips into the side of your waist as she steps closer, nodding with a warm smile. 

“she’s right, you know,” lena says, giving your hand a squeeze. 

“you’re like our honorary teammate.”

you smile, heart racing, and glance around at the team gathered around you. it’s a strange feeling—this sense of belonging among these women who have worked and sacrificed so much. 

they’re looking at you with genuine affection, the bond you’ve built with them over time stronger than you’d ever realized.

“alright,” you say, laughing, feeling a bit more relaxed as they crowd in around you. 

“but only because you all insisted.”

they cheer, pulling you into the picture, arms wrapped around one another, laughing and shouting in excitement as the photographer snaps photo after photo. you can feel the joy radiating from each of them, the weight of this accomplishment shared and celebrated together. 

when klara makes a heart with her hands, aiming it at you, your chest tightens with warmth.

yasmeen, watching from the stands, raises her thumbs up and laughs, mouthing “so popular!” and you give her a teasing eye-roll, smiling at her playfully.

finally, as the photos wrap up and the team disperses to greet more of their friends and family, lena pulls you aside to meet her parents, holding you close as you both take in the night. 

the lights of the stadium are soft now, the crowd gradually fading, and it’s just you two talking to her family, standing side by side in the quiet after the storm of victory.

“i’m so proud of you,” you say to lena after her family leaves the stadium, voice thick with emotion. 

“watching you play, seeing you out there after everything you’ve been through… it’s incredible.”

lena’s eyes soften, her fingers tracing the outline of your hand. 

“i couldn’t have done it without you,” she murmurs.

“you’ve been here every step, even when i was sidelined and frustrated. you kept me going.”

you smile, your heart swelling with pride and love. 

“that’s what teammates are for, right?”

she laughs softly, her gaze tender. 

“then it’s settled,” she says, her smile widening. 

“you are officially our honorary bayern teammate.”

the words echo in your mind, wrapping around you like a warm embrace, and you know that this night, this moment, will stay with you forever.

masterlist

authors note: I hope you enjoyed this six parts series :) I started it 10/1 and finished this part last night before a halloween party I had to attend lol

[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere dc: meeting camgirl! darling <3 pt. 1

have you ever wondered if...

the batboys and conner k. have met cam girl! reader?

The answer is..... yes! She has met most of them, but the same cannot be said to the other poor precious viewers of hers ;( feel very bad to the other members of the young justice and teen titans for that.

Warning for everyone: darling and my headcanons is sooooo unserious, and darling is probably a gen z-er whose referencing too much tiktok trends 😭 be warned

and anywho, these are my headcanons for their meetings <33

please repost i luv you >0!!!

　

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

ᵈⁱᶜᵏ ᵍʳᵃʸˢᵒⁿ ᵃᵏᵃ, 'ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗʷⁱⁿᵍ':

one of our witty girl's most biggest and annoying dedicated fans in her stream! (He ranks 3rd in donating, and 1st in annoyance)

this man is LOADED with money, and knowing how darling can get greedy sometimes... yk what happens.

(not like he has any complain tho, as long as her attentions on him, shes allowed to take, take, take, take, and take from him <3)

How he met her fr is during on one of his late night patrols in bludhaven, he finds her on one of the empty streets in the city.

He gasps, very worried but so so excited.

'Bunny! :0' is what this man immediately thinks. Its his term of endearment for you, for looking so innocent and soft... yet so fierce and mischievious once known. (Live you is CRAZY.)

But 'Bunny', after seeing the man in blue and black latex, stood so still to the point of looking like this: 🧍‍♀️

You and him had a staring contest, so awkward and silenttt

Tho he snaps out of his train of thoughts when you finally, start to move.

Nightwing: !!!?!?!??

Darling: ....👋👋

nightwing: ...oh--

The hero of bludhaven could only pout inward, your normally so talkative and so very sharp tongued, so why wont you talk to him like you always do bunny? :( (this man forgot hes in his nightwing persona for a sec 🤦)

Turns out, our dear is very awkward when around people :( (or atleast to strangers face to face, bc she has absolutely ZERO shame when it comes to online people and her friends-- or that depends idk bc girly is unpredictable)

Anyways, before he could speak up, you ran away.

Nightwing was very worried, so he stalked followed you as you make your way back home.

Once you locked your doors and go to sleep, he takes a sigh of relief... but not before pulling out his phone and taking a picture of your address and place.

<3 what a nice little home his darling has.

(From that point on, you see this man in both his hero and civilian persona almost too often for your taste.)

Darlings pov on dick is that hes pretty f*cking annoying, and nightwing is 100 times worse

Fun fact: you often throw things at him, curse at him, or sometimes even FLASH at him whenever hes nightwing.

(he once tripped on a slime you threw and he fell straight down to a garbage can. Whoops.)

you think hes lame sauce and cringe af

you also think hes the type to say 'Golly' Unironically. (Hmm maybe u should start calling him that 😈)

Darling seeing dick/nightwing on top of the roof of another house infront of her own: go home you sicko 😾

Nightwing literally camped on top of it with the rest of the batboys visiting him + watching darling also: 🏃‍♂️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ (minus a running jason since he CANNOT be caught watching her as he has the 2nd best relationship with her in his hero identity)

Yandere rating: 100% on money, ∞% for nuisance, 50% for humor (-100% as nightwing sadly)

ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎

ʲᵃˢᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵈᵈ ᵃᵏᵃ 'ʳᵉᵈ ʰᵒᵒᵈ':

ofc this man is one of her favorites 😒 darling really has both the worst and at the same time, most interesting taste in men.

Hes in your top 10 on donations, but he can be very busy sometimes ;(

(Huhu but dont u worry, he makes up for it by giving u ur well deserved hundred grand before flying away to the next big battle he has <3)

In civilian, he prolly met u loitering around wayne manor's gates

(Dont ask how darling LIVES in bludhaven, yet is also in gotham 💀)

Your pretty face, so familiar, he recognizes you almost immediately even in his disheveled state in the morning.

...you were that p*rnstar. 😦 (ps: u middle fingered at him after hearing dat)

"--hey, okay, i'm sorry for saying that-" after hearing his apology, you put down your raised fists and eyed him. From head to... waistline actually his dick as you see the very scrumptious outline of it even through his baggy pants.

His eyes follows yours and-- hes flustered! Your such a perv, really, even when not in front of your screen you still do things like this?! >:( (not that hes complaining... he knows u like what u see and maybe wears these types of pants just in case u show up somewhere miraculously like today-)

"...You--" he sighs, pinching his nose. Its so early in the morning and your already at work in spreading chaos--- oh.

He stares down below him, feeling your arms hug him with a sweet smile on your face.

He gets hard a bit. God your even more beautiful face to face--

"Teehee, i always wanted to meet one of my fans :D especially you, mr. Big ;)"

...ah, he feels a lot warmer all of a sudden, the faintest red staining his cheeks. You... your such a cheeky little--

"Hey stop THAT!!--" he shouts, as you snuggle him aggressively >:)

(After that, he gives you some hefty money, and you feel very blessed afterwards and asked if hed liked a 'hawk tuah' as a reward)

...he dont know wtf is a hawk tuah. "You and your weird trends..." he groans, but watches you run around. like a playful little kitty.

If your a bunny to dick, then your a small little kitten to him. It makes more sense, you arent fit to be a bunny, your way too loud to be one--

"Hey i heard that >:(" he sees you stomp your feet.

...okay, maybe then just a little bit. Just a little...

Yandere rating: 89% on money, 5% for nuisance, 85% for humor (90% as red hood <3)

(everyone there will be a pt. 2 for tim damian conner and terry so stay tuned 😍)

(update: i think of rewriting this bc pt. 2 is so serious compared to this 😭 i think i was also high)

[highonakuweeds]

Who Says Money Can't Buy Happiness? (Pt 4)

Sylus x right hand man!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ao3

Summary: After the events of the entire week, you had completely forgotten about the date Aries had set up with you.

The first thing you did the next day was check up on MC.

Still in your pajamas (with the addition of the signature hood and bandages), you cautiously knocked on her door, and when no answer came, you opened it slowly. She was still passed out on her bed, in the same position you put her in. You let her borrow some of your clothes(as if you needed every single pair of sleepwear, anyway); wouldn’t want her sleeping in dirty hunter’s gear, right?

You did her vitals just to see if she was still going to be alive by tomorrow. Your pointer and middle finger pressed against her wrist; from the heat of her skin along with her pulse, you knew that she was alive, albeit the pulse was weak. You leaned forward to listen to her breathing, your hand placing itself against her chest. At least she was breathing normally.

“Checking her vitals, I see.” Sylus’ voice interrupted your beautiful peace and quiet, and you refused to look at him. You stayed sitting down on the edge of MC’s bed, raising the blanket a bit more and brushing her hair away. 

A huff of breath was the only thing you heard before you sensed his presence behind you, and suddenly, his hand was on your shoulder. “(Nickname).” His voice was softer now, as if it were indirectly asking for an apology.

You sighed, turning your head to look at him, brows raised as you pursed your lips pettily. You didn’t say anything, and it ticked him off. “Giving me the silent treatment, huh? You wound me.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up, shrugging his hand away before you began to walk. But the moment your hand felt the smoothness of the door, you yelped when you were reeled back towards Sylus by your waist, and then he was hugging you from behind. Tightly.

“Come on, (Nickname), don’t be like that,” he whispered in your ear, and for the second time this week, you shivered because of the close proximity of his deep voice, and you hated just how deep it was. “I did what I had to do.”

“You could’ve done it some other way.” Your voice was strained when you spoke. “You could’ve proved to her that you can’t die some other way.”

“Well, she wanted to kill me, (Nickname), what was I supposed to do—”

“She did not want to kill you,” you laughed out. You realized that your back was still pressed up against his chest, but you tried to pay it no mind. “She only thought that because she knows you’re Onichynus’ leader. I would’ve acted the same way.”

“And yet you didn’t. When you were in the same position as her. Twice.”

“Hey, it was an instinct the first time.”

“And the second?”

You stayed silent before opening the door, letting yourself slip away from Sylus’ grasp. “That was different.” You muttered. Muttered so low, you prayed your boss couldn’t hear you.

In the hallway, just when you were about to turn towards the kitchen, Sylus grabbed your wrist. “Wait.”

And so you did.

He pulled you closer towards him, making you twirl around so that he was no longer facing your back. Sylus gingerly removed the hood from your face, running a hand through your hair. “Let me make it up to you, hmm?”

And God, was it tempting.

Sylus’ eyes flickered to your lips. If he were to be honest, he loved seeing you in the mornings before you went to the Association. It was one of the only reasons why he would wake up the same time you do every now and then. You were always in your natural state, relaxed and not necessarily his right-hand man, but just… you.

He also loved how your lips parted the moment he gazed at them.

As for you, however, you despised his lips, even if the urge to glance at them back was too strong for you to refuse. You hated his defined cupid’s bow, and how the edges always curled into a small smirk no matter the situation. 

A hand snaked up your lower back, easing you closer to him, and you let it. Your entire body melted into his touch, and you knew you weren’t supposed to be doing this. You were supposed to be mad at him, and you two weren’t even a thing in the first place! How can he pull a stunt like this and expect you to not expect a relationship!?

Just when your lips were about to be slotted against his, you pushed him away, patting his chest as you smiled humorlessly. “Make me breakfast this time. I won’t tell you what I want, and if you get it right, maybe I’ll consider it.”

You didn’t notice the way Sylus’ facial features dropped slightly because you turned around too quickly. And honestly, he was glad you didn’t. “Plus, don’t just make it up to me. Apologize to MC, too.”

His laugh echoed in the halls. “You want me to… ‘make it up’ to MC, too?”

The implication made your stomach twist, but you were never going to tell Sylus that. “Do whatever you want.”

“Maybe I could do that…”

“Womanizer.”

Sylus’ boisterous laugh echoed in your mind this time. “I haven’t even done anything and you’re already calling me a womanizer.”

You sat down on one of the island’s stools in the kitchen, your hood now shrugged off as you fiddled in removing your bandages. Shrugging, your eyes never left your arms. “Well, you never know, huh? You were just about to kiss me a minute ago.”

You didn’t get a reply after that. Instead, you heard the shifting of plates and metalware. With scrunched up brows, you finally glanced up at what your boss was doing, only to be hit with a whiff of something sweet.

You tried not to give Sylus a reaction when he began making pancakes from scratch, measuring each dry ingredient with precision. You’d been craving pancakes for so long now, but you were always just so lazy to make them. And for the past couple days, you didn’t even have the chance to ask the chef to make them for you because of how demanding Sylus suddenly became.

Sylus couldn’t help but smirk when he saw your facade of indifference, your eyes fluttering about in order to not look at what he was making and smile. And after 30 minutes or so, when he placed a plate of a stack of pancakes in front of you, you heard your stomach growl. You prayed Sylus didn’t hear it.

Your eyes widened at the finished product before you crossed your arms, pursing your lips. “Jokes on you, Sylus, but I actually wanted—”

“Souffle pancakes?” Another plate scratched along the marble island, and to your surprise, he had baked those, too. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped from you as your eyes lit up. “I could’ve sworn it’s just been 30 minutes. How did you make two kinds of pancakes in just 30 minutes?”

He seemed to revel in your indirect praise, though that facade of indifference transferred onto his face. Sylus merely tilted his head, lifting a brow. “So am I forgiven?”

“...”

“(Nickname).”

You huffed, picking up the fork that Sylus placed beside the plates. “Yes, I guess so. Sometimes, you’re just so insufferable.” As you spoke, you begrudgingly cut the souffle pancake, marveling at just how near-perfect it was. When did Sylus ever learn to cook this well?

His deep laugh vibrated throughout your body, making you feel… rather unwanted things. “We’re getting somewhere.” 

You finished the souffle tastefully, enjoying the comfortable silence you had with your boss. But it got you thinking; why was he going out of his way to make you feel better? Sure, he was affectionate before, and that stuff like this shouldn’t mean anything, but this somehow feels…different.

You also hated how your mind immediately answered your question of why it feels different. How long had it been since he’d seen most of you? 4… days? No, 5…?

Wait, 7 days ago you went on a date with Aries. When did he say the next date was…?

…Oh.

FUCK.

Your eyes widened when you finally remembered what day it was, and you hopped off of the island’s stool, not even able to finish the other patch of regular pancakes. You had to look presentable when you go to the Association today! Aries was going to pick you up from work.

As a string of curses came out of your mouth, amusing Sylus. He took your fork and began cutting a piece of his work with it. “And where are you going in a hurry? You don’t have to go to work for another hour.”

“I have a date that I totally forgot about.” You quickly replied, checking the time. You needed to put on makeup, do your hair—ugh, should you just put it up or should you let it out? Something basic or something elegant? And what clothes should you bring for the date? You didn’t want to be in your hunter’s uniform in a (most likely) fancy restaurant!

As you bolted out of the kitchen and into the long hallway to get fixed, Sylus lips twitched into a slight frown at your words. A date. With… ugh, what was his name again? See? He was already so irrelevant that Sylus had forgotten his name already!

…Aries. Yeah, no, his name was Aries.

‘What does she even see in him, anyway?’ Sylus thought to himself, stabbing the pancakes with the fork. ‘They barely know each other. I know that he’s not her type. And I’m such a better pick—’

Sylus’ train of thought snapped the moment he heard the plate crack in half, the poor pancakes being stabbed by the cracked porcelain. He clicked his tongue, gritting his jaw as he walked out of the room. He’ll have someone take care of that.

—--

“Okay, girl, I see you! Why are you dolled up so fancy today?” Tara walked with you towards the entrance the moment she spotted you, and you grinned sheepishly, glancing at the sleek jewelry on your hands. “I have a date again with Aries.”

“Your sugar daddy—”

“He is not my sugar daddy!” You exclaimed, realizing the entire lobby of the Association quieted down at your remark. Tara stifled a laugh which made you take a breath. You muttered an apology into the air before grabbing your friend’s arm, making her giggle. “He’s not my sugar daddy. Just… a really rich guy that… likes me.”

“Oh, okay, so those bracelets and rings and necklaces you showed me last time we called didn’t mean anything like that, then? Hey, is that a new—”

“Tara,” your voice was clipped, though there was a hint of playfulness in it. “One more word about it, and I’ll have your Bulgari bag returned.”

She gasped, before slapping your arm lightly as you two got into the elevator. “Please, no! I take care of that bag like it’s my baby! Ugh, it might as well be!”

Sugar daddy? Sylus snickered as he watched you through the eyes of Mephisto, who was perched up on one of the buildings’ rooftops. Your voice was so loud that his ears rang slightly due to Mephisto’s advanced hearing, but it only made him laugh. So you talk about him, then?

He faltered, remembering the bracelets and rings you snatched from your array of jewelry that Sylus made sure you had. They weren’t things he would think of getting you; everything was far too cheap in Cartier. Plus, rings from Sylus were seldom given to you. He believed that rings are the much more… intimate kind of jewelry.

No, he hadn’t given you those. Aries did. 

God, he’d known you for, what, just 2 weeks, and he’s already attempting to spoil you with “riches”? If Aries wanted to do that, he needed to step up his game. 

…Well, not like Sylus could care. 

Has MC woken up yet?

—--

“—And then, my boss, all of a sudden, begins acting all obsessed with this one colleague of mine, as if he hasn’t been feeling me the past 2 years I’ve worked for him.” Your head bobbed with every syllable as you talked, your food long forgotten the moment Aries asked how your day was going. “Then he has the audacity to work me twice as hard just because my colleague wouldn’t give him what he wanted. Selfish, I’m telling you!”

Aries had just nodded politely throughout your entire 15 minute long rant—and counting. He was glad you were finally opening up to him but… not in the way he expected.

“And, who is your boss, if you don’t mind me asking?” He took a sip of his wine, eyes still locked on yours. Apparently, you weren’t expecting that question from him, so you just blinked at your date in surprise, letting out a small scoff as if to say, as if I can tell you that. 

You noticed he was serious, though, and a small ��ah” left your lips. You licked them from being dry from you talking too much, desperate to ignore how his gaze dropped to them. “I-I can’t tell you that. All I can tell you is that… he demands a lot. But I…” You hesitated, staring at your food, then at your wine. “He’s not actually that bad, you know? He’s kind… somewhat. But infuriating for the majority. But, he’s observant, too, and when I feel as if… everything is too much, he doesn’t hesitate to ask how I’ve been. Sometimes, I tell him he’s being too soft, especially for someone with our line of work, but I can tell that he doesn’t care.” You finally took a bite of your food, and almost groaned at how good it tasted. Though, it doesn’t rival anything Sylus’ chef makes. Or anything Sylus… makes—goddamnit.

Aries furrowed his brows, trying to rack his brain as to who your boss might be. “I don’t know anyone who sounds like your boss at the Association. You're in UNICORNS, right? …Isn’t your boss Jenna?”

You choked on your food, making Aries jump in his seat, hand out with a napkin and ready to save you. You shook your head politely, telling him you were okay before you washed down your throat with some wine. Mm, more acidic than you’d like, but it was okay. “Ah, I work two jobs to…” You puffed your cheeks out, trying to think of a lie. “Try and make ends meet; that’s how you saw me in that one auction. And,” you put a hand out when you saw Aries open his mouth, making you grin. “Don’t even try giving me money. You’re already giving me a lot as is.”

Aries burst into laughter, making you stifle laughter yourself. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Damn, you knew just what I was about to say—”

“Yeah, duh, I saw you opening your mouth to offer cash!” You exclaimed before pouting your lips, deep in thought. “Though, on second thought, I could never say no to money—”

Mephisto’s head tilted sharply as his creator’s jaw audibly ticked from how hard he was grinding on his teeth. Sylus shouldn’t be doing this, watching you on your date. You told him not to. But… that was just one time. And with a predictable restaurant like this, it was practically begging to be found.

In all honesty, Sylus had half-expected to be smirking at awkwardness and reliance on alcohol to keep the conversation going. So, imagine his surprise when he saw you two… bonding. Somehow, he couldn’t make out the initial part of the date for some reason where it was just you talking and Aries nodding, but he was able to the moment the both of you started laughing together.

You. And Aries, a man you just met 2 weeks ago, were laughing like old friends.

Now, Sylus is a very straightforward man with his emotions, especially since he has no shame in identifying and expressing them. He knew that he was… jealous, of all things, now, but he wasn’t quite sure why. You were… He heard himself scoff. You were something, to say the least. Determined, hard-headed, stubborn, intelligent yet… lacking so much common sense. He couldn’t blame you, though; with how much information was constantly running through your brain because of your wrist, being a ditz sometimes was more than understandable.

When you would actually do your job, God, it amuses him more than it should. To see you flowing through tasks that need to be done within the day, reports you need to give him ASAP, all the while you had that little furrow of your brows and fire in your eyes… 

It was a treat.

Sylus’ thoughts snapped back into reality when he heard you and Aries laugh together once more, making him seethe. He should really stop daydreaming; it’s bad for what he does, and he might end up risking more than he bargained for.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, eyes piercing your skin as you talked. Throughout the years you worked for Sylus, you knew how to act as if everything was perfectly normal even if they felt off. So, as Aries was talking about some new firearms, your eyes flitted towards the forever night of the N109 Zone, to a tall building that covered some of the moonlight, to a little crow that you knew all too well.

You snickered. Of course Sylus was here; this place was honestly such a predictable pick.

“(Name)?” Aries’ voice caught your attention and made you snap back into reality. His eyes tried to look for what you were looking at a couple seconds ago before giving up. “Is there something there?”

“...” You stayed silent for a split second, wondering if you should finally tell him about your weird relationship with Sylus, both as your boss and as the weird in between of a boss and a lover.

“No, sorry. I just really like the moon.” You instead said, smiling at your date reassuringly in order to not draw any unwanted attention to the red flashing eye of Mephisto far away. 

Aries just stared at you, a soft smile on his lips, before glancing at yours for a split second. “Yeah, the moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

—--

Sylus almost fucking threw his built-in desk across the room.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” Is this guy serious? If he wanted to profess his love for you, then he should’ve made it grand! Spent millions and millions for a consecutive amount of days until the last day, where you two would stay in a luxurious restaurant on the balcony of a building that barely anyone can get to. A restaurant that’s famous for proposals.

Sylus picked up his phone and began to call you, and a small twinge of smugness and pride spread throughout him when you immediately picked up. 

“What the fuck, Sylus!? Didn’t I say I was on a date?” You scolded him through the phone, your voice a hushed whisper. He couldn’t hear the bustling atmosphere of the restaurant you were at, so he assumed you excused yourself. Well, not like he really cared.

“I’m picking you up.” He declared, putting his phone on speaker to fix his outfit a bit. 

“WHAT!? Are you insane!? We haven’t even gotten dessert—”

“There’s dessert at home, (Nickname). You have everything in the world at home and yet you choose to settle for less.”

“...” The line was silent for a while before he heard you sigh. “Whatever. Let me just wrap this up. I’ll see you later?”

“I’m giving you 5 minutes, and you’ll see me later.”

—--

You put your phone down before glancing at Aries, who was idling swirling his wine. You felt bad for leaving the date so early in the night, but it’s not like you had any real romantic feelings for this man. He felt easy to talk to, yet at the same time you will never forget how uneasy his presence made you feel the first time you met him. 

You walked towards him with an apologetic smile on your face. “I’m so sorry, Aries, but I have to go. My boss is calling me.”

His face dropped at your words before he nodded in understanding, his eyes glancing down at his wine once more. Aries chugged down the entire glass, leaving you surprised, before standing up and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Listen, I know things haven’t been necessarily smooth between us two, but I really want us to work. I’ve noticed how your mind easily slips away to somewhere else during our dates. Even with that, will you still give me a chance?”

Your eyes widened at his words, lips parted in shock. He glanced at them and instinctively licked his. Honestly, you couldn’t say no to that, especially with how polite he was about it. You smiled softly, nodding. “Of course, I can. It’s not like I never said I wouldn’t, right?”

Aries grinned at your words before taking in a deep inhale. “Can I kiss you?”

That was where you hesitated for the slightest bit. Aries didn’t catch it, but you felt your heart sink when you realized that you were still hesitating. You sucked it up, though, before matching his smile. Cupping his cheek, you brought him closer, lips brushing against his. It was a chaste kiss, but it did feel longer than it was supposed to be.

It was pleasant for once, having someone want you again. Sylus used to make you feel that way, but the moment MC came in, you were put back in your place. It was kind of foolish to think that Sylus, out of all people, would be the one to give you the yearning you always craved for since he was just your boss.

Yes, just your boss—that’s what he was. You have to keep reminding yourself that.

Sylus opened the door to the restaurant, not even having to flip the entire place down in order to find you, since you and your date were the only ones standing up and… 

His face tensed when he watched you kissing Aries, hands cupping his cheeks. Subconsciously, a finger placed itself on his own lips, remembering what yours felt like. It was a memory that plagued his dreams every time he so much as attempted to sleep. 

Shaking his head, Sylus crossed his arms, his evol sneaking up to your back to bring your attention to him. You opened your eyes and pulled away from your date, frozen in your spot when you noticed your boss standing right there.

“I really have to go now,” you whispered to Aries, who nodded. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “I’ll see you next week?”

You nodded before walking towards your boss, and when your back now turned from Aries, you shot Sylus a warning glare, basically telling him to keep cover since you haven’t even told Aries who your boss was.

Alas, all of that was in vain; Sylus didn’t want to budge, and Aries did in fact turn around to watch you go. A small squeak from him made you turn around to see his reaction. His eyes darted from you to Sylus, and you just scrunched your nose apologetically.

Sylus’ lips curled up slightly when he realized that you never told just who you worked for during the night. With a satisfied and smug grin on his face, you walked with him to his motorcycle, not even sparing another glance at your date.

—--

“Sir, I don’t think she’s falling for me.”

“What makes you say that? Didn’t you two kiss? Twice?”

“...Well, yes, but both times felt like pity kisses, and I don’t even remember the first time…”

“Then make her like you, dammit! I don’t care how you do it, just do it. I didn’t raise you for nothing.”

“Yes, sir. And wait, before you leave—”

“What, boy?”

“...You never told me that she worked for the leader of Onichynus.”

“It seemed like you didn’t need to know, and the plan has worked somewhat with you thinking he was just his whore, right?”

“...Right.”

@readerxyourbabe here you go babes :))

[twisting-roads]

DEBUNKING COMMON RAIN WORLD MISINTERPRETATIONS

The target audience for this was for people who don't know too much about the game as well, so I'm going to explain things that a normal player might already know.

Rain World is known for how it simply throws you into the world with almost no tutorial, and is often praised for it.

But this lack of explanation if you do not go out of your way to find it has also lead to a lot of misinterpretations from those who did not read all the game’s available information, or misunderstood what they were being told. I used to watch some RW lore videos that would explain and summarize these things, and in the past I believed them.

I’ve since stopped doing that after having some time to actually process what I’ve been reading, and I’m here to say...

YOU ARE ALL WRONG ABOUT RAIN WORLD.

Ok, hyperbole. Not everyone believes these, and art can always be interpreted in different ways by different people, and I won’t stop you from having these beliefs. But also, there’s plenty of ingame content which completely disproves most of these unsubstantiated points from those who do not fully research the game before making videos about it.

Looking at you Tale Foundry…

The purpose of this is to pick apart some of the sadly far too common points I’ve heard many times before from Youtube videos, to Tumblr posts, to people I’ve spoken to on Discord.

Starting with my least favorite…

------

“The 5 karma were seen as sinful”

Obvious westernization of a game based off fucking Buddhism aside, there’s no ingame text directly supporting this claim. There isn’t any that says otherwise, but we have good reason to believe this isn’t the case.

The 5 natural urges, as they’re sometimes called, were NATURAL. They were what bound you to the cycle. They never worsened your life or made you a terrible person should you keep following them, but an aspect of life on the same level as suffering or ecstasy.

Hey, I’ll break down the 5 karma and their meanings to show you that they're not just "sins"

I believe the natural urges have 2 different meanings: an animalistic one, and a more “human” one.

KARMA 1 This obviously represents violence, as you see one guy stabbing the other. I believe it also represents competition and intense emotions, For example: Artificer experiencing intense grief and lashing out in violence as a result. It was not the violence that started it, but her emotions. (Yes, its Downpour. But it’s a good point.)

KARMA 2

They’re having sex. They’re fucking. They’re- ok you get it. Karma 2 represents reproduction. But, I also believe it’s desire. Joyful bodily experiences, and such. The 2 figures seen here are in a much more playful pose than if they were simply doing this only to reproduce. No, they’re having fun.

KAMRA 3 Connection. Bonding with others. Yet also trade and personal belongings. Attachment to things that are not yourself.

KARMA 4 It’s mentioned ingame that this represents gluttony It’s overindulgence, you know. Similarly to karma 2, it can also be searching for fulfillment. I'm not particularly good at telling what the meaning of this could be.

KARMA 5 Self preservation. Self preservation can come in many forms, from an animal running away from a predator or somebody getting defensive after being accused of something or being threatened, this one is rather vague about its meaning.

I do this to show that the 5 urges have very NEUTRAL meanings. It being positive or negative is entire dependant on context. They’re not sinful, get out of here with that Catholic shit!

The 5 karmas have both positive, negative, and neutral contexts which they can fit into.

------

“The ancients hated being alive”

The ancients simply hated the cycle itself and its unknowable properties, as well as being much more aware of things like karma and the urges. Rather, they valued being effortless to disconnect themselves from this cycle.

“This was an eternal dilemma to them - they were burdened by great ambition, yet deeply convinced that striving in itself was an unforgivable vice. They tried very hard to be effortless.” – Bright Green Pearl (DS)

Some practices did of course include things like starving yourself, but as mentioned by Moon, these methods proved to be mostly obsolete. Void Fluid fundamentally changed their culture from what we see. Rather, we do see the ancients enjoying life and valuing it in their own way, which is INCREDIBLY important to some of the games themes, but I’ll get into that later.

"[...]'In this vessel is the living memories of Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel, of the House of Braids[…] Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel nobly decided to ascend in the beginning of 1514.008, after graciously donating all (ALL!) earthly possessions to the local Iterator project (Unparalleled Innocence), and left these memories to be cherished by the carnal plane.The assorted memories and qualia include:Watching dust suspended in a ray of sun (Old age). Eating a very tasty meal (Young child). Defeating an opponent in a debate contest, and being applauded by fellow team members (Late childhood/Early adulthood).’...and the list goes on. I'm sorry, little creature, I won't read all of this - the list is six hundred and twenty items long.” – Deep Magenta (SH)

There’s quite a lot to pick apart here, I had to cut down some parts short, but even the cut parts have important details. Just not important enough for me to bring up here.

The Memory Crypts we see ingame are… well where memories are kept. The qualia (personalized experiences) is stored within these mutated fleshy neural organisms referred to as “cabinet beasts”. These of course, contain the “living memories” or qualia of those who have ascended. There are people smarter than me who have already covered these ideas of course, so I won't go TOO indepth.

The ancients greatly valued titles and achievements just as us. They still lived normal lives. As well as this, they valued personal experiences and memories of the carnal realm so much they built an entire citadel to store memories.

As we can see as well, Seventeen Axes has quite a lot of enjoyable memories from throughout their life. Eating nice food and winning a debate contest and getting validation from their peers? That sounds rather… complacent with the 3rd and 4th natural urges, doesn’t it?

I do not believe this screams “I hate being alive!” as much as people have made it out to be, and is honestly ruins part of the game’s messages of compassion and personalized experiences, especially in the game’s ending where Survivor dreams of home.

“You have no name. I once had! I was embalmed, adorned, readied for the journey. So proud. There was jubilation! My name was sung, loud and clear. Did they know? That I didn't quite leave, didn't quite stay? Should I be ashamed? That I linger here, where my memories are kept? Should I be ashamed that I now envy your flesh prison?” - Four Needles under Plentiful Leaves

This is leaning into personal theory territory, but...

I personally believe that the ancients were somewhat terrified of the unpredictability of the cycle and the fact that life would always have more suffering in it.

RW’s religion is heavily based off Buddhism. This is well known of course. The Cycle is a variation of Samsara. Now, I’m not Buddhist, and I’ve tried to do my research about some of these topics. Feel free to correct me, I’m simply going off what I know. (Also I'd love to hear what you have to say regarding your thoughts on the game!)

In Buddhism, each new life you could be taken into the body of an animal, or even end up being tortured in hell for a very, very, VERY long time if you made the wrong decisions, which made escaping it as soon as you could seem like a rather reasonable thing to do.

The ancients never fully grasped the scope of the cycle, and the prospects of having your soul wake up in the body of some miserable worm with no memory of your past or any ideas of your future might’ve seemed bleak.

Suffering is inevitable. But that doesn’t mean they hated being alive, like I said before.

------

“Rain World is post-apocalyptic.”

It really isn’t. There was never any apocalypse. The ancients simply left on their own accord, leaving behind their mark on the world that will slowly be buried once again in the ever so present cycle.

“The bones of forgotten civilizations, heaped like so many sticks.” - Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets

The world is thriving, even. The purposed organisms left behind have evolved and taken over and become it’s own ecosystem.

The iterators are dying though. Dying very slowly, but soon they’ll all decay and everything will move on.

It’s all just another manifestation of the cycle.

------

“The creatures in Rain World cannot die”

This is definitely something I hear from people who haven’t played much of the game and only hear about it from outside sources and watch the gameplay.

Yes, it is easy to believe this. As slugcat, when you die, you wake back up again. This is entirely a gameplay thing and not actually related to the lore. Saying this might seem like I'm avoiding the question at hand here, but the rules that apply to you do not seem to apply to other creatures.

Every creature in the game has a 4 integer ID (it can go higher, but not in a standard playthrough).

This makes every creature you see an individual of sorts with its own randomized values or appearance.

As well as this, creatures spawn from specific marked dens. When you kill a creature that spawns from a certain den, the next cycle, that creature’s ID will never appear again. Instead, the den spawn is replaced by a creature of the same species with a different ID, or a new species entirely.

Through gameplay, you see that the respawn rules that apply to you do not apply to other creatures. I’ve heard many points about how these dead creatures are transported to another alternate universe where they are alive, but I really do not want to delve into that theory. You do that yourself.

Excuse my unprofessional language, but this is kind of stupid. Billions and billions of little timeline splits accounting for every single insect and microbe that dies seems far too complex of a solution. Occam's Razor and all that.

With this gameplay element you see, I also want to give LORE explanations as to why this is incredibly stupid.

1) If death had no impact, the 5 natural urges would not matter

If no creatures died, there would be no point in eating (karma 4), competing with other species (karma 1), or any form of self preservation (karma 5). Reproduction (karma 2) has no role and there would be absolutely no reason to do anything any longer. All natural processes would be useless.

2) Light Blue Pearl

The information received from the cycle is most likely from the Light Blue Pearl, found in Outskirts.

“[...]The repeating mantra is important because it symbolizes the cyclical nature of life and death, and the termination verse is a symbol for ascension above and beyond it. I don't know how familiar you are with the nature of life and death, but I imagine like all living creatures you have some intuitive knowledge? Then you know that death isn't the end - birth and death are connected to each other like a ring, or some say a spiral. Some say a spiral that in turn forms a ring. Some ramble in agonizing longevity. But the basis is agreed upon: like sleep like death, you wake up again - whether you want to or not. This is true for all living things, but some actually break the cycle. That doesn't apply to you or me though, you are too entangled in your animal struggles, and for me not breaking that cycle is an integral part of the design. Our mantras keep repeating.”

“Then you know that death isn't the end - birth and death are connected to each other like a ring, or some say a spiral. Some say a spiral that in turn forms a ring.“

This line is very misunderstood. Moon specifically mentions birth and death. She mentions death. She never brings up the notion that nothing truly dies either.

As well as this, Moon says that “some say”, implying that even the ancients weren’t sure what the cycle was either. This is more important to my point regarding how the unfathomable nature of the cycle was why the Ancients were so averse to it from above, though.

------

“Sliver of Straw found the solution.”/"There is/isn't solution"

No she didn’t.

.

.

Ok fine I’ll explain.

If you’ve played Rain World you know that the purpose of the iterators is to find the solution to the “Great Problem”, the problem of how to ascend ALL living creatures.

You’ll also know Sliver sent out the Triple Affirmative…

“[...]affirmative that a solution has been found, affirmative that the solution is portable, and affirmative that a technical implementation is possible and generally applicable. She's also one of few that has ever been confirmed as exhaustively incapacitated, or dead. We do not die easily.[…]” - Pale Yellow (SL)

After sending out this affirmative, the iterators became conflicted. They never could figure out if she really ascended and had found the solution, or if it was some sort of catastrophic error.

The answer to the Great Problem is clearly intended to be as obscured as possible. There cannot be an answer one way or the other. The themes of it and the endless tolling of the iterators would not be as impactful if we knew there was or wasn’t a solution.

“[...]Either way, after that these different factions developed, as well as a huge forensic effort to recreate and simulate Sliver of Straw's last moments. Some of the simulations were wrapped in a simulation wrapped in a simulation, in case something dangerous might happen. Nothing much has come from it.[…]“ - Pale Yellow (SL)

Here’s my favorite way of explaining what I mean…

Imagine Schrodinger's Cat, the famous thought experiment. There’s a 50/50 chance that when you open the box, you either find the Solution, or find out there is No Solution.

Except you cannot open the box. And the box is entirely theoretical and nobody’s seen it. It seems impossible, but maybe one day you’ll find that box. That’s what the Great Problem is.

Sliver apparently having found the solution would have completely broken everything. Five Pebbles wouldn’t have ended up hurting himself and Moon had Sliver finding the solution been known with certainty. He was taking a shot in the dark.

------

“Ascension is akin to suicide.”

I strongly believe this point harms the role that ascension and the void sea play in Rain World’s narrative. Ascension is meant to be a final destination, a goal you build up to and prepare for when you’ve lived every bit of life you possible could, and can now move on.

Bringing up the Memory Crypt pearl from earlier, Seventeen Axes lived an incredibly fulfilling life from what we see, and ascended happily.

As well as this, Buddhism strongly encourages those who wish to liberate themselves to discover their own path, which is also subtly shown through the gameplay, as there are many many routes you can take to Five Pebbles, Looks To The Moon, and The Depths.

I do also think this is why Five Pebbles failed. He tried to brute force his way to ascension.

Suicide implies that ascension is only meant to be a fruitless escape and that it’s wrong to ascend. I… do not want to go into why suicide is bad. It’s a strong topic and I’m just here to talk about video games. But ascension is a neutral thing that you can choose to do or not do and to wait until you’re ready.

------

Conclusion...

I really only have the time to cover these 6 misconceptions, and I believe it should be enough. There have been many others I’ve seen, such as the ancients being malicious or that there weren’t any civilizations before them, but there’s not as much to say about them, and they aren’t as common.

Rain World is a very confusing game. I’m not upset at people who think these things to be true, and I do not believe they’re stupid or don’t have any media literacy. I just wish that the people who did actually cover this game did some more looking into it, and actually discussing it with Rain World fans.

Also I should say, that during this entire discussion I have avoided talking about Downpour- RW’s DLC- as it’s more of a official fanmade project. And so much of what it says may not be entirely in line with Vanilla. Because my life isn’t easy and of course there has to be an incredibly divisive and confusing thing like this that I need to avoid bringing up so that way the conversation isn’t muddled.

Thanks if you managed to make it through all this by the way

[saturnine-saturneight]

Teeth

Dear Mr. Caradoc,

this is me emailing you so you have this in writing, just like you asked me to. I'm nervous to leave a paper trail, for obvious reasons, but I also trust that you aren't going to use this against me. On the other hand, I am grimly excited. Like this, nobody will be able to say that I didn't ask for help before it was too late, least of all you.

Which brings me to my point: please, for the love of God, help me. I've tried everything by now, dentists, doctors, family, friends, nobody can help me. They are all itching to send me to a therapist, or better yet a closed institution, and as fast as possible too. But I am telling you right now, if you call the police on me for a wellness check and I am locked away, my blood is on your hands.

With that out of the way: Here is what you didn't want to hear from me the other day at the coffee machine, properly and in writing.

It all started early one morning. I usually wake up around five these days, but I remember it being even earlier that day, I think around 3am or 4am. Did you know that we feel pain stronger at night than during the day? I looked it up. It peaks exactly at 3am. But even without looking that up, I could've told you, because the pain I felt that morning was something I'm never going to forget.

Have you ever gotten a root canal, Mr. Caradoc?

I did, two years ago. It was my lower molar, the first on the right side. I can still see the filling, I think, when I pull my lips back—well, I could, anyways. My dentist did a pretty good job all around, not just with the actual procedure, but also in explaining to me how it works. When a tooth is infected or inflamed down to the pulp, the very inside underneath enamel and dentin, what they will do is, they will bore a hole in the respective decaying tooth, and then hollow it out completely, removing everything within it that's alive, and then fill it with something dead and inert, with rubber and cement. And although it is a dead man walking from then on, surrounding tissue is able to keep such a tooth alive, as my dentist told me, almost indefinitely. He did an excellent job hollowing me out, but it was a bad day to find out that I don't properly respond to the anesthetic he used.

It was that same pain that I felt again that morning, at 3 or 4 in the pain hour, and that was what I was looking for in the mirror as I was standing there in the dim grey light and pulling my mouth open with a finger. A sign that my root canal had to be redone.

But what I saw instead was, and I know how difficult this is to believe: a tiny, tiny dark door, hollow, maybe more of an archway, smaller than the pin of a needle, carved right into the enamel of my tooth.

The first thing I did was of course to call my mom up in a panic. She had to spend twenty minutes calming me down before I'd stopped crying for long enough to take a picture of it, and then when I did and sent it to her, I could immediately hear the pity in her voice. She told me that it was a very normal thing to have nightmares like this during pregnancy, and that she had gone through the exact same thing when she was pregnant with me. I have to admit that I got very angry at her for it. I know what a nightmare is, I am not a child. I was wide awake. People all around me have taken on this patronizing air towards me ever since I've started showing, as if carrying a baby somehow negates everything I have accomplished and everything I am, and has turned me into some fragile stupid thing.

I hung up on her. I'm not proud of it. We haven't been on the best of terms anyways, and I'm sure this didn't make it better.

Four hours later, I stood on my dentist's doormat, practically banging at the door to be let in. I was overjoyed when he opened my mouth to inspect the molar and immediately agreed to give me a filling, but it only struck me why he'd told me to take the day off as I was inspecting the molar in the rear view mirror of my car, and all he had done was to fill in the archway, leaving the intricate carvings around it alone. And they were intricate now: It was as if somebody was miming pillars around the hole in my tooth. I stormed back into his office in distress, and found myself set up with a blanket and some hot tea in the waiting room as one of the dentist's assistants patted my knee, instead of just filling the damn structure in.

I went home. What else was I supposed to do?

The next day, the pillars had been carved.

It went on like this. First there came windows, rows upon rows of them, with ledges and flourishes. Then, the next tooth showed a hole. Then the next. Archways started to grow steps to lead up to them. Windows became larger, more opulent. And the pain—I never saw the actual carving happen, not even once, but I felt it. I felt every single chip, every last line in them.

I saw dentist after dentist, convinced family to look into my mouth, friends, acquaintances, coworkers, even my boss, but there was always that same goddamned look of pity. The woman is going crazy, their faces seemed to scream, as they even stopped being able to see holes at all. But I am not crazy. This is not phantom pain. I know what is happening to me, and I need it to stop. I am being made a home for something, and I want it out.

My parents have asked me to move back in with them. I will be packing my bags next week, but I'm afraid that they aren't planning to help me with the pregnancy. If my suspicions are true, these bags will be on the floor of a mental hospital very soon.

I am asking you for your help because you have always been on my side, even back when I was fighting for accommodations for my morning sickness. I don't know who else is left to ask. I also don't know what I expect you to do about this anymore, but I need it to be something.

My jaw has started hurting.

Please.

Yours,

Kalinka Czajkowska

If you liked this, don't miss the continuation in the next chapter of Particle Decay! Ms. Czajkowska isn't going down without a fight.

Particle Decay taglist:

@gioiaalbanoart @noblebs @wyked-ao3

@cowboybrunch @writingrosesonneptune @marlowethelibrarian @cometkov

[dailytogachako]

So I found this around, can I ask for Toga/Ochako?

♥ Send a ship and I'll give you who:

- Gives nose/forehead kisses

- Gets jealous the most

- Picks the other up from the bar when they’re too drunk to drive

- Takes care of on sick days

- Drags the other person out into the water on beach day

- Gives unprompted massages

- Drives/rides shotgun

- Brings the other lunch at work

- Has the better parental relationship

- Tries to start role-playing in bed

- Embarrassingly drunk dancer

- Still cries watching Titanic

- Firmly believes in couples costumes

- Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas

- Makes the other eat breakfast

- Remembers anniversaries

- Brings up having kids

omg hii anon!!! sorry it took me so long to respond 😞😞

to be honest I didn't really understand the question, is it a trend? like, say who would do this or that? I interpreted that way so i will do it that way, sorry if I got it wrong 💔

1- gives nose/forehead kisses

Definitely Uraraka! she always kisses toga's forehead and nose to show that she loves and cares for her. She does this every day before going to work.

2- Gets jealous the most

Okay, it would definitely be Toga. Himiko's jealousy is not exactly possessive, but rather insecure jealousy. She's afraid that Ochako will find someone better and "less weird" and end up leaving her. Even when Uraraka's assurances that this won't happen, she still has insecurities about it which ends up resulting in jealousy of anyone she doesn't know and talks to Uraraka.

3- Picks the other up from the bar when they're too drunk to drive

I thought a lot and came to the conclusion that Himiko doesn't like alcohol. She seems to be someone who likes sweet drinks, and despite having sweet alcoholic drinks she avoids them because she believes she doesn't need alcohol to have fun. But there are exceptions, and in these exceptions Ochako always goes to look for her little girlfriend in the bar. Himiko does the same for her, but she doesn't know how to drive 😭😭 so she gets a ride from one of her friends to drop her off at Uraraka's apartment

4- takes care of on sick days

BOTH YOUR HONOR!!!

I can perfectly imagine Ochako taking care of a sick and spoiled Himiko and I can also imagine Himiko taking care of a very stubborn Ochako.

Uraraka HATES hospitals so she does everything to avoid them, so she's always ends up accepting Toga to take care of her despite being extremely stubborn and swearing that "I can take care of myself"

5- Drags the other person out into the water on beach day

Himiko! She doesn't see the point of a beach day without going into the water, so she drags Ochako with her and always ends up forgetting to put on sunscreen. One time she ended up all burned and was mumbling for hours because her skin hurt 💔😞 Uraraka never let her forget again

6- gives unprompted messages

THIS IS SO HIMIKO CODED

She likes to text her girlfriend about ANYTHING even though she knows Ochako won't respond right away. She uses kamojis (mainly the ":333") and sends Uraraka a lot of pictures of herself or little things about her day and Uraraka LOVES IT. If Toga ever stopped texting about everything, she would definitely find it weird

7- Drives/rides shotgun

As I said before: I'm pretty sure Himiko doesn't know how to drive, at least not yet. So she always gets rides from her girlfriend to go places. After all, Ochako knows how to drive (in my head...) And if Himiko were to ever drive, it would be a motorcycle!!!

8- brings the other lunch at work

BOTH!!! but one detail: toga doesn't know how to cook very well, so it's always a surprise if the food is going to be half-burnt or raw. Her specialty is making sweets, but she doesn't only live on sweets, so she trains a lot to cook something delicious and healthy for ochako. She always stares at Uraraka while they're eat together just to make sure that it's really tasty...

And when the food isn't good, ochako goes out to buy them something to eat. Money has always been something that Uraraka lacks in her life, so when she spends it on food for herself and her girlfriend, she just feels so happy and fulfilled. It's something important to her. Is a way of saying that she cares about Himiko and that she's happy that she can buy something for both of them.

9- Has the better parental relationship

Uraraka

I don't think I need to elaborate much...

10- tries to start role-playing in bed

I didn't quite understand the question 😭😭 that would be like something obscene right?

Honestly, I don't think Himiko would do that. She's certainly not innocent, but she's a little too shy and ashamed to try something. Especially something like RPG. I believe that in the beginning she would be very embarrassed and insecure, she wouldn't know what to do and would be more lost than ochako (who is also embarrassed and insecure).

And after talking and spending a lot of time together, they would stop being so embarrassed and insecure and could try new things. I don't think RPG would be one of them, because in RPG you need to make a character and Himiko wants Ochako and only her. Just like Ochako wants Toga and only that.

(sorry for giving such a vanilla answer 😭😭)

11- embarrassingly drunk dancer

HIMIKOOOOOO

She doesn't do sexy dances or anything like that, she just DANCES!!! and she doesn't know how to dance, so it ends up becoming somewhat embarrassing. She has a lot of fun doing this and doesn't care about people's looks... EXCEPT ONE, she only cares about one... (ochako looks at her as if she were the most precious thing in the world while she dances macarena with denki and kirishima).

12- still cries watching Titanic

*sigh*... himiko—

13- firmly believes in couple costumes

TOGA! She loves couples costumes and always has some creative idea of what to wear with Ochako on Halloween or other events. She seems very happy organizing everything, so Ochako doesn't even try to stop her. Himiko knows what she's doing and she's more than happy to follow in her footsteps.

(I didn't quite understand the question but I hope I answered it coherently) (english is not my first language)

14- breaks the expansive gift rule during christmas

I CAN'T STOP SAY HIMIKO

She would be so nervous and wanting to please that she spent all her money buying something that everyone would like 💔💔😭 she wanted them to like her and have a good impression

15- makes the other eat breakfast

BOTH

Ochako is always concerned that Himiko is eating well and Himiko always uses Ochako as a guinea pig to see if her cooking skills are improving 🙏🙏

16- remembers anniversaries

Hi....mi....ko 👹

She's the type of person who enjoys celebrating other people's birthdays more than her own. She always writes down everyone's birthday on her calendar and tries to give them a gift on that day. Unlike Ochako who always ends up forgetting and getting super nervous when she realizes it's a close friend's birthday

17- brings up having kids

It may sound crazy (or not), but it would be Himiko. She would try to talk about this with Uraraka to get out the feeling of thinking she would be a terrible mother, only for Ochako to assure her that she would be one of the best mothers. I don't think they would have children any time soon, but they would definitely have a pet and take care of it as if it were a child.

Himiko would buy him clothes and Ochako would very reluctantly let him sleep in them despite the fact that they shed a lot of hair...

[bumblingbabooshka]

I hate when Chakotay is watered down to be Janeway's yes man because their disagreements are actually very interesting. [A lot of rambling analysis of this debate in particular below]

Chakotay in Parallax is very interesting in that he has to navigate a lot of different dynamics. Balance a lot of plates while being watched keenly by everyone around him. Immediately preceding this scene we see him ask B'Elanna for her opinion on the bridge - both as a chance to show her knowledge in his bid to make her chief engineer (because she wouldn't get a chance to otherwise as Janeway has clearly indicated that at this point she views B'Elanna as a troublemaker who won't be considered for the position) and because he just thinks she's a better engineer than Carey and wants the best possible chance of them succeeding. Janeway sees this as unacceptable. Carey is the chief engineer and so he should be called and Chakotay NOT asking for his opinion is an insult to Carey, Janeway, and might make the crew doubt Chakotay (and by extension the Maquis') loyalty to the Starfleet crew.

At this point it seems that to Janeway integration ["They're not your people"] means the path of least resistance, specifically tailored towards the Starfleet crew. She wants Chakotay by her side to keep the Maquis crew calm but also seems unwilling to consider them for important positions aboard the ship. Though she says that the Maquis are not Chakotay's people, not his crew, she certainly doesn't seem to consider them hers [Compare this to later instances where she stresses 'our' crew, here she simply says they aren't Chakotay's: Whose crew are they? Are they crew at all?]. This less leaves the impression of "We need to be a cohesive team" and more "You're not in charge here." She essentially accuses Chakotay of playing favorites. In her mind Chakotay's actions are not conducive to integrating the crews which would (again, in her mind) mean the Maquis being docile and accepting, obedient and content - not making trouble for the Starfleet crew. Chakotay counters Janeway's accusation with one of his own: That he IS trying to integrate them into the crew but her not allowing the Maquis any opportunity to prove themselves or succeed, not showing any trust in any of them (except, implicitly at this point, him) is making things difficult. At this point the Maquis crew are ready to mutiny on his word at any time. He knows this for a fact. Aside from that looming threat (the threat being that tensions are high and if nothing changes and they remain high there might be a mutiny even without his word) - Chakotay knows these people and trusts them. Though Starfleet and Janeway think of the Maquis as a violent bunch of criminal terrorists, Chakotay and a good number of the Maquis joined because they believed in the cause they were fighting for. These are people Chakotay knows WILL fight fiercely for what they believe in and conversely, AGAINST what they perceive as injustice. Even if they're not in the majority - they're used to picking fights which seem impossible to win. At this point Janeway admits that she ISN'T making it easy for Chakotay to integrate the Maquis - specifically talking about practical concerns; how she doesn't feel she can let Maquis crew have roles of importance on the ship because they lack the ability to hold them. "They don't have the discipline, they don't have the training," - asserting that they just aren't prepared for any such roles and it doesn't have to do with them being Maquis specifically. Ostensibly, she's treating them as she might treat anyone unqualified for the job.

Chakotay maintains that some of them, like B'Elanna, have the ability to be trained - challenging her point by saying that IF they're trained there's no reason for any Maquis member NOT to be given a more prominent role on the ship. He isn't suggesting they just unqualified people important jobs. If the problem is that they aren't trained, let's train them. These people have the ability to succeed if you give them the tools they need and a fair chance, he insists. Janeway then switches gears and her argument becomes not "The Maquis are untrained so they can't be given those jobs" but "The Maquis crew are unworthy of those jobs when compared to Starfleet personnel" saying that it'll cause insult and upset among the Starfleet crew if any member of the Maquis were to be promoted above them. Again, her idea of integration is based more on Maquis subservience to the Starfleet crew than it is the two crews working together. (Not that I believe she looks at it that way, it's just where her 'path of least resistance' leads) - though she accuses Chakotay of being too focused on "his" crew, she is admitting here that she believes her real crew are the Starfleet officers aboard, not the Maquis. She also admits here that the system she wishes to maintain (and is asking Chakotay to enforce) is one where there will ostensibly never be any chance of a Maquis crew member being promoted because no Maquis crew member will ever be more qualified, more worthy, than a member of Starfleet. We can see how it'd be difficult for Chakotay to convince his crew to remain calm under these circumstances. There's also Tuvok's behavior toward him at the beginning of the episode where the Vulcan nearly goes over Chakotay's head and when he doesn't do so (as Chakotay reminds him that HE'S the superior officer, the First Officer in fact,) Tuvok acts as if him backing down (partially) and conceding (partially) to Chakotay's authority is a favor to Chakotay.

Tuvok in this conversation is downright insubordinate to Chakotay. Despite Chakotay being the first officer, he doesn't take what he says seriously, argues that his own opinion on what should be done should be followed rather than Chakotay's, lectures the first officer about his conduct, and then almost seems to threaten him with a report. In Starfleet's rigidly hierarchical rules, acting like this to a superior officer (ESPECIALLY the first officer) wouldn't be tolerated and Tuvok knows this perfectly well. He isn't a rebellious character and clearly in other episodes adheres to these Starfleet hierarchies and codes of conduct very strictly. He values them highly. But Chakotay, a Maquis, shouldn't be First Officer. Why should he be given respect for a title he didn't earn? [Affirming Janeway's argument about how Starfleet officers won't be eager to follow a Maquis senior officer] Even though Chakotay tells Tuvok off for it ["I don't have to explain myself to you"] he doesn't threaten to put Tuvok on report or explicitly mention his insubordination. It's unclear if this is Chakotay's personality or if he just doesn't feel he CAN do that. Tuvok is one of the three most senior officers aboard and very close to Janeway. Chakotay has to think of the optics of any situation at all times - we see seconds after this conversation that rumors have already started swirling around B'Elanna being relegated to quarters that've fanned the flames of mutiny. Though we know Tuvok has personal reasons for behaving the way he does toward Chakotay (which he later admits), I really don't think it'd be out of the ordinary for this to be how most Starfleet personnel would treat the Maquis if they weren't outright hostile: Like they're only pretend crewmen. To a lesser extent we even see this with Janeway: In the following staff meeting, she clearly doesn't consider B'Elanna a viable option when Chakotay brings her up and almost ignores the suggestion entirely.

It also, again, leaves Chakotay in an impossible position. If he doesn't protect and fight for the Maquis crew, they won't ever be considered a true part of the crew and dissatisfaction will likely spread among them. Dissatisfaction which the Starfleet crew will then use to further label the Maquis as insubordinate, uncontrollable, unfit. Not to mention that if he doesn't advocate for them, he might lose their trust. However, if he DOES try to help the Maquis crew advance the Starfleet crew will view this as 'favoritism' and will further distrust him, won't respect the people he puts forth as worthy. Janeway seems to be intent on not advocating for any of the Maquis crew and also seems unwilling to ask that the Starfleet crew grant leniency. She implies that the Maquis crew need to learn to get in line and keep quiet and it seems almost like [we must remember the optics] she has Chakotay as the only Maquis in a position of power to facilitate that. Chakotay recognizes and pushes against that, saying that he won't just be her token Maquis - there only so she can point to him and say "See? We don't discriminate against the Maquis here." effectively a tool used to shut down any arguments of unfair treatment and a tool to quell the Maquis if any talk of mutiny DOES arise. In this model, Janeway can just tell Chakotay to calm them down and they'll listen because they trust him. She also doesn't have to really listen to anything he says: A token First Officer has no authority; his words don't hold weight. [Chakotay isn't Maquis anymore, they aren't his crew anymore - ok. What is he then? What are they? Nothing, without respect.] This plan seems untenable, as much as Janeway frames it as sensible: "I can't make it easy, Commander. Surely you can understand that," and alternatives as impossible "How am I supposed to ask them to accept a Maquis as their superior officer just because circumstances have forced us together?" - in the long run, how would this be sustainable? In any power structure, you cannot expect a group of people you're unwilling to grant trust or agency to obediently follow you forever. This proposed form of 'integration' in which the Maquis are kept on the bottom rung and told intermittently to stay there quietly by the only one of them granted permission to stand at the top would never be sustainable - especially with a group like the Maquis who again, were founded on the belief that its members should fight against inequity and are already on the verge of mutiny.

I specifically find the statement "How am I supposed to ask them to accept a Maquis as their superior officer just because circumstances have forced us together?" to be interesting because personally I'd say that being forced together for the rest of almost everyone's natural life is a pretty good reason to ask people to adapt and Janeway does understand this but only applies it to the Maquis - the Maquis are the ones who have to adapt, not Starfleet. The only thing the Starfleet crew have to do is tolerate their presence on board.

At this point Janeway again claims that if Chakotay can show her a 'qualified' Maquis candidate she'll consider them. I believe this is true but we already know that Janeway's standards for qualification will likely not fit the vast majority of the Maquis and Chakotay ignores the claim in favor of putting forth B'Elanna again, firmly. Janeway predictably dismisses her as unqualified and Chakotay disagrees, arguing that he knows her. He's worked with her. He KNOWS that B'Elanna can excel at the job even if she doesn't meet Starfleet/Janeway's qualifications. He doesn't value those qualifications over what he's observed about her - just as he didn't value Carey's title over what he knew about the gap between his and B'Elanna's abilities. Then, Chakotay switches gears. He admits that Janeway's right - he does view the Maquis as his crew but that's because Janeway (almost self admittingly) doesn't and if he doesn't, who will they have? [What kind of captain, kind of man, would he be?] "You're going to have to give them more authority if you want their loyalty." "Theirs or yours, Commander?" Janeway frames Chakotay's words pointing out the flaws in this plan which I outlined earlier, as almost a threat (if she doesn't have Chakotay's loyalty it'll most definitely mean mutiny). Chakotay asserts that it wasn't a threat, he's only trying to help by telling her how the Maquis crew will react to what she's telling him. "I'm sorry you can't see that" - not an apology for what he said but that she isn't willing to budge, not willing to listen to him and acknowledge that she might be as biased towards her crew as he is towards his. Chakotay is trying his best to acclimate his crew but if Janeway isn't willing to do the same, to talk to her people as he's talking to his, then this will not end well and that isn't a threat. It's just the reality of the situation. He then asks permission to leave, showing he is willing to observe Starfleet protocol (just as when he asked permission to speak freely), and Janeway lets him go, exhaling at the intensity of their debate when alone in her ready room.

[deus-ex-mona]

such is the tale of a ✨chronically online hypocrite✨

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[teufelme]

You ever just want to talk about Bertl,

[orcelito]

I'm at the painful "confession" scene during the kage summit arc. It really is so emotional, but also... hm.

When I was younger, like 13 or so, I was a big Sakura and Naruto shipper. They were the first pairing I read fanfic for even. And in a way, I do still enjoy the two of them together... but it's moments like these that really drive home the fact that it Doesn't really work in canon. Not the way that it's set up.

As Sakura puts it, "Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke! That's all you think about!"

She's told that Naruto has feelings for her and decides to use it to convince him to stop going after Sasuke. She does love him, but not in the way she's trying to confess. The love they share is one of comradery, not necessarily romantic. The love of two people who have gone through such pain together, and who have leaned on each other throughout it all. And the fact that she's turning around and saying she loves him "simply like everyone else", now... it's trivializing. And the fact that she's trying to convince him of this, the fact that she thinks she Can convince him of this, is pretty hurtful. They've come a long way from when they were kids, Naruto the goofball vying for her attention while she yelled at him for being stupid. Sakura respects Naruto so much more than before, and Naruto respects her too. So the fact that she's still doing this... She's desperate, really. She thinks the promise he made to her to bring Sasuke home is what's driving him to let himself be hurt over and over and over again in the pursuit and protection of Sasuke.

But she's wrong.

That may be part of it, but it's only part. Naruto wants Sasuke back for himself, too. He let himself be beat up to avoid selling him out. He chases after him with single minded determination. Sasuke is his entire drive to get stronger, to catch up, to bring him home. Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke indeed.

As it is, Naruto knows she's lying to herself. And no matter what she says, he will keep going after Sasuke. Because that's just the person that Naruto is.

[justinefrischmanngf]

i have so much information about this random man’s sex life now because people in their late 20s LOVE telling me too much about their lives and i love listening to people be insane

[ambrosiagourmet]

I've been thinking about Laios' succubus lately. Mulling it over a bit.

Because I've seen these pages brought up a fair bit, but almost entirely in the context of shipping (on all sides, really). And I really want to understand what they are doing for the story beyond that.

When I went back to reread the scene and section, a few things caught my interest: the way Laios responds to both forms of his succubus, the themes of the volume the chapter is found in, and the other events of the chapter itself.

So let's dive into those three things, and what I think they say about the succubus scene's purpose.

Laios is never fully frozen by the succubus

So. If you compare Marcille and Chilchuck's reactions...

to Laios':

-

There is a difference. Sure, the basics may look the same once it turns into Scylla Marcille, but even then, it functions differently.

Chilchuck and Marcille are completely frozen once they catch sight of their succubus. Izutsumi, as well, isn't able to look away, and completely freezes up once her 'mom' starts talking to her. As Chilchuck describes, "just looking at them makes you unable to move."

And yet, Scylla Marcille has to actively convince Laios to comply. He even looks away from her at one point!

Laios accepts this succubus, but he is never actually helpless to it in the same way. Taken in? Convinced? Sure, at least enough to let things happen that he probably should question more than he does. But magically compelled? Not really. Not the same way as everyone else is. So that's interesting. But let's move on for now.

2. Volume 9 is all about drive and desire

I don't often look at chapters within the context of the volume they are included in, but I think there's some really fun things to be found with that perspective in mind.

For one, volume 9 starts with an exploration of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:

And ends with a question of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:

It's also very concerned in general with questions of why people do what they do. Why they are in the dungeon, why they are with the people they are with, why they stay, what they fight for.

In addition to Laios, we see it with Marcille...

Izutsumi

Kabru

and Mithrun

Hell, we even get it for the demon!

It's certainly not the only volume concerned with desires and motives, but it is particularly focused on these ideas.

The succubus scene fits quite well into the ongoing question about desires, especially Laios' desires. It is even placed at an interesting spot within the volume. The volume is six chapters long, and the scene takes place at the start of the 4th chapter. It's almost smack-dab in the middle.

With all this in mind, it is interesting that, with both versions of the succubus Marcille, it's not totally clear which parts of her Laios is rejecting.

The first version of Marcille looks human, but Laios attacks when he identifies her as a monster. The second Marcille looks like a monster, but he seems to believe that she is the real (human)(ish) person that he knows. So is he rejecting the monster at first, and then accepting the person? Or is he rejecting humanity and only interested in the monstrous?

Something to consider as we look at the next point...

3. the rest of the chapter is a seduction, too

This is one of those things that might not be apparent on a first reading, but is crystal clear on a revisit. We see the succubus try and charm Laios over 7 pages, and then see the Winged Lion do the same thing for the next 19.

Much like the succubus, it offers the mingling of monsters and humans. Much like the succubus, it offers belonging.

(and this is the point where I absolutely must also link this post by fumifooms on the succubus, which has some great ideas on how the scene is informed by Laios' trauma and desire for acceptance!!!)

But, back to the point. The Winged Lion wants to feed on Laios just as much as the succubus did, and it uses similar strategies to try and make that happen. Though this chapter isn't really the turning point for the next Lord of the Dungeon (it is Marcille who will, eventually, become the Lion's next victim), it certainly behaves like it is.

Laios is convinced. The succubus gets its meal. By the end of the volume, the reader begins to understand how concerning his desires are. Together, it is all very good at building up that sense of dread and pending disaster, as we see exactly how and why Laios might just fall into the Lion's open arms and bring about the end of the world.

-

So that's the three things I noticed. But there's still something I want to touch on by looking at the way these observations overlap, and what they reveal, together.

As I said, by the end of the volume, you can feel the tension growing. Just as Kabru and Mithrun do, you look back for an answer to the questions that have been built, chapter by chapter: why is Laios here? Where will his loyalties fall? This chapter, and scene, seem to prove the inevitable truth: he will choose the monster, of course. He will choose the seductive, easy power of the Winged Lion.

But the details of what actually happens tell different story: one in which the Lion is wrong.

First, as a reminder - even in Scylla Marcille mode, the succubus never fully entrances Laios. It convinces him, but it doesn't have him completely under its thrall.

Similarly, in the dream, the Lion does convince Laios to embrace the world he is offering. But even within that dream, Laios continues to ask questions that will be vital to him later. It is because of those questions that Laios comes to a new understanding about Thistle.

And it's this realization that he cites later as part of his reason for refusing the Lion's offer.

He is thinking through things the entire time, just like he continues to question the succubus even after it turns into Scylla Marcille.

Laios also expresses an interesting reason for why he wants to see the future of this world. He's not just invested because it would mean people liking what he likes, or him getting to spend time with monsters. The thought that comes immediately before his acceptance is about what he wants for monsters and people.

I don't think it's a coincidence that this statement - "we're living beings that share the same world, but all we can do is keep killing each other" - can apply to the various humans races just as much as it does to humans and monsters. The thing he is thinking about here isn't just a matter of his personal daydreams. It's an idea that underpins every conflict in the story.

Laios caring about how people as well as monsters in this manner is something that the Lion gets wrong every time. Even at the end, he still frames Laios' desires entirely around hating people and loving monsters.

The Lion has heard him express an opinion about the future of the world! It happened right there in the dream, right in front of him! He just didn't take it seriously, and didn't view it through any lens other than "Laios likes monsters more".

He's convinced that he understands how to get to Laios. Maybe the Lion can't truly see everything, or maybe his vision into everyone's deepest desires has made it hard for him to realize how much choice still matters. That people can, and do, choose which desires to act on, and how to act on them.

Whatever the case, he's wrong about Laios, and the story shows us this over and over again.

After all, look at how the succubus interaction plays out:

A monster uses Marcille to appeal to Laios...

He realizes that something about the situation is wrong, and rejects her.

It changes strategies, and makes new offer: to turn him into a monster.

It also assures him that his friends are, or will be, taken care of.

He accepts. Or rather, allows the monster to have its way with him.

But Laios is not as helpless as he initially appears, and what the Lion thinks is a successful seduction also contains the seed of an idea that will allow Laios to later resist him.

We even get to see Izutsumi playing a similar role in both instances, as the one person fully able to take action in the face to the illusion.

The story lays out what is going happen, and then explicitly tells us that the demon and the succubus are thematically related.

The chapter performs a great sleight of hand here - everything about it seems to indicate that Laios is doomed give in to the option to have his deepest desires realized. But if you look closer, it also contains the evidence that he won't. There's a lot more going on for him.

Yes, he still falls for obvious tricks. He is still extremely into monsters, and he still doesn't feel like he fits in with other people. He may, deep down, crave to surrender to the monstrous - to let it absorb him. But he questions more than he seems to. He considers more than people realize. He cares so much more than anyone gives him credit for.

And I think this is part of why we see the succubus called back to so many times, especially with the wolf head addition to his Monster Form, which he specifically added due to his encounter with the Scylla Marcille.

This all stays with Laios. It doesn't just foreshadow the path of the story, it is fundamental to how and why he walks that path. It's not about him choosing monsters, and it's not about him choosing people. It's about how he considers both, and cares about both.

And it's about the forces that think they already know his answer. Mithrun and Kabru. The Winged Lion. The succubus.

It's about how they are wrong.

[my-gf-is-kazuichi-soda]

Hey no hate, you realize that you’re literally in love with your own version of Kazuichi right? Literally no one in this entire world thinks of Kazuichi the same way as you.

Heeheehee, yes! Ngl my ego is having a feast with that last sentence.

You've unlocked an essay! Have fun reading lol.

Honestly though, I do think of my Kazuichi as an extension of the og Kazuichi, but like, in a different timeline. Not an entirely different personality, even if it seems like that because I draw fanart of her at different points in time without much of an explanation.

I've been thinking about that rule of fandoms post I reblogged earlier. I feel like I only barely scratched the surface of a thought with my tags, but I only had a few minutes left in my break at work. Also, wasn't sure how personal I wanted to get on someone else's post.

At what point does fan-written character development end and "an entirely new character, completely different from the original" begin? Even characters in canon, written differently in some way, can be considered "not canon" by fans. Take "modern-day" Simpsons for example; there was one segment from a "recent" episode (honestly, I don't remember how long ago I heard this statement, so "recent" could mean anywhere from the past 10 years) where Bart genuinely asks "what's the 90s?" This made a lot of people angry, because Bart Simpson was a staple of the 1990s that embodied the vibes of that era, so hearing him say this felt like a far cry from his old self. This Bart is technically "canon," but a lot of people would argue that this is Not Bart Simpson.

Another example is Steven Universe Future. I did not like that epilogue season. I liked the 12-to-14 year old Steven's optimism, and it felt like they strayed so far from his character to have this kindhearted, loving character become so selfish and bitter and, there's no way to explain it without spoilers but he commits an act so heinous that I honestly felt like they took his blind rage too far just for shock value and sacrificed the entire character for it. But, some things just don't reach everybody. What I saw as "That's Not Steven", some people were able to enjoy and get a cathartic story of someone healing from trauma (I wish I felt the same about that show). For me, it was painful to watch, and I only finished the season to end my anxiety about it, seeing him get worse and nothing get better at the end of each episode was bringing me to tears ("Then how can you play Danganronpa if you're so sensitive?" you might ask? I have different expectations and standards for an edgy murder game for teenagers than I would for a kids' cartoon. I'm less shocked when violent acts happen in Danganronpa or Family Guy than I was at Steven Universe Future). Anyway I would consider this version of Steven Universe's character "not canon," and I cringe when people bring up his character in Steven Universe Future as canon, despite that, yeah, it's canon. It's canon but I hate that it's canon.

Anyway, I have a point here, and it is that what is considered strict canon to some may be considered more loosely by others. And fandoms are where we should be free to explore ideas that the writers cant do, whether it's because it doesn't fit the themes, or it isn't "marketable," or it's because the canon writers wouldn't come up with it, or just simply because you wanted to see it and no one can stop you. I understand some people have ideas about characters you'd want to keep the same, I do too! I hate when people reduce Kazuichi to just "fuckboy who flirts with Sonia and parties all the time and is really dumb" (tell me you fell for Kazuichi's act without telling me you fell for Kazuichi's act) or "sad pathetic meow meow" (like, aside from the "blorbo" language, this feels like one part of Kazuichi that gets misunderstood as the entirety of Kazuichi. Kazuichi can be pretty badass.)

Fandoms have been getting more picky and hostile lately (I'm realizing I have too, so I'm working on that), and I think we could all benefit from letting go of some of our stricter ideas about "sticking to canon" and being more easy-going about people writing a character differently than you would, especially because it's fanon. Because we're doing this on our own volition and not for a paycheck. Because kids writing for the first time shouldn't feel like quitting if they can't make the characters "on-model" or "in-character."

Also, Danganronpa at times is kind of poorly written and sexist, so why should I have to stress over adhering to the standards set by those writers and then carried on by teens in the fandom (who might be looking at it uncritically, not that I blame them they're still learning) when I can set some standards of my own?

The "canon" version of Kazuichi, according to the spinoff games I never played, is that she's forever doomed by the narrative to spend at least three years after graduation still pining over the same damn character who has repeatedly shown no interest. Also, doomed to keep the same appearance that she canonically doesn't like (and everyone else also looks exactly the same as their child selves). Like, this is the same character who changed her appearance in middle school because she was sick of being taken advantage of by people who didn't give a rats ass about her. There were other reasons too, but I feel like nobody talks about this one in particular: she wanted to change, so she did. So why does she need to keep the same appearance after that, when she's older and the stakes are lower and she's gone through so much and gotten some development in the second game's end? The meta reasons are so that Spike Chunsoft doesn't have to pay someone to update the sprite model, because Kazuichi is recognizable (marketable) in her canon look, and because it's easier to leave everything the same.

Personally, I wouldn't mind if Kazuichi wanted to keep the same appearance, that's what attracted me to her in the first place. But she herself isn't happy with it (evidence: the last FTE). I just filled in some blanks in the story in my own way, because there's a lot of ways to interpret her character and they don't have to fit in with whatever canon says is the way. I don't 100% trust Hajime's word, Chunsoft's word, or what other fans have to say. I'll listen to it, though, but yeah I am going with my own interpretation.

Don't worry, when I say "Kazuichi is a girl because I said so" I do mean my Kazuichi (and whoever else wants to make Kazuichi a girl, which, go for it!). I don't mean "I'll fight you on it if you think differently." My ideas for Kaz are just one possibility for her, there's tons of others and they're valid whether I personally care for them or not. I don't mind boy Kazuichi at all! I just...I love girls...so she is a girl. In my heart. On another level, I was tired of boy characters getting the cooler designs that don't have a boob focus, so when I saw her I was like "that one has to be a girl! I'm claiming her right now. And probably also a lesbian, just because!" And then I ended up adoring her, because she's so adhd/autistic and I relate a lot to her struggles in socializing and making friends. I hate when people say she's "not emotionally mature enough for friendships/relationships" (that's such a mean statement! I've heard it before about myself. It hurts to hear. ;-; It sounds very victim-blamey.) Yeah, her social problems from autism/adhd definitely play a large role in her problems in making and keeping friends, but another large reason she struggles is because other people don't get her, and that's not her fault. She tries, she tries way harder than I did when I was a teenager to make everyone like her, and it doesn't work, because other people can be shallow assholes who see a "weird kid" and just don't care. I'm not saying that's everybody who doesn't want to be friends with her, Kazuichi can also be mean and push people away and also can be bad at reading the room, but her struggle to make friends is not all everyone else's fault just like it's not all her fault. Some people just have too much neurodivergent swag or uncanny valley for others to get us. So we need to find each other.

Anyway, wow I guess I really needed to talk. It frustrates me that so much of my story is only in my head right now. I want to actually show the progression of Kazuichi's character (so that her character progression looks less like "I just pulled this out of my ass" and more like "I swear guys, I'm actually going somewhere with this! It'll make sense later!") and my s/i's character progression too (in the fanfic we grow alongside each other and because of each other), but it takes time to write a story when I'm also learning the work-life balance. This was my first year having a "real job" and of living alone, I basically get home after the 8 hours of busywork and then get to drawing Kazuichi and watching cartoons and playing video games. Trying to be really patient with myself.

[kimstills]

crazy

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: after one heated and spontaneous night together, aaron can’t seem to get his pretty subordinate (or her pussy) out of his head.

content warnings: smut, 18+, minors do not interact!, pussy!whipped hotch, age gaps, dirty talk, rough unprotected office sex, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving, mentions of m receiving in the past), choking, hair pulling, ass slapping, groping, some angst if u squint, love confessions and some asshole behavior, hotch is a munch and masturbates in his office.

word count: 6.5k (yea…)

a/n: this may seem a lil out of character for hotch? we all know he’s a professional thru and thru but the point is this is that he’s pussy whipped! also lots of flashbacks in italics whoopsies <3

Aaron was sure he was going crazy.

Or maybe he already was, and he was just starting to feel the effects of his craziness.

Aaron Hotchner, usually poised in a way that unwillingly intimidated others and made them back away from him, was unraveling in a way he had never done so before.

Having a one-night stand with his subordinate, the same subordinate he had been harboring painfully arising feelings for literal years, often led to such a reaction.

He could still recount every single detail from that night, from the moment the tension between you both began building itself up to the moment it actually snapped. It was as if he had everything engraved in his mind; the views he never thought he'd get to see to the things he never thought he would get to feel etched into his brain.

It had all been a blur that night, and a part of Aaron still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you reciprocated his attraction towards you, letting him, not only touch you but also fuck you.

You two had stayed up late in your shared hotel room only to talk, really. After you and the rest of the team had wrapped up a somewhat good case, you only wanted to rant to one another. Aaron knew that you weren’t a ‘whiskey girl,’ or whatever it was that you said, but he had offered you a drink either way.

Neither one of you had even gotten tipsy, so he couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol. But the connection had always been there, though, one thing finally leading to another and all the unsaid words and stolen glances between you both began to surface.

It was as if everything you both silently felt for another was starting to seep through and everything that hindered you from telling each other no longer mattered.

It had felt so hot, from the way you held him close with your legs wrapped around his waist to the messy yet passionate kisses you shared, your bodies connected beneath.

It was everything Aaron envisioned it to be. But, as magical and heated as it was, he was the one to have ended things before they even had a chance at starting.

The morning after, as soon as you had both untangled your bodies from one another and got dressed to get back home to Quantico, he had done the stupidest thing imaginable.

“We shouldn’t do this again.”

You froze in your spot, half-way through tugging your pants up your legs. You blink at him from where he stood on the other side of the bed, already dressed, “This?”

“Yes.” Aaron says, voice awfully neutral.

You frown, jutting out your bottom lip that same way you did when you were thinking, “May I ask why?”

He takes a deep breath, “I’m your boss,” he gives you a pointed look, as if he had to remind you after fucking you dumb, “and you’re my subordinate. This goes against several workplace regulations and if anyone were to find out we could both lose our jobs.”

You’re quiet for several moments after that, and Aaron uses the silence to his advantage to prepare for any arguments you could be thinking of to use against him. He can’t seem to read you, though, your expression pensive as you stare at the floor.

Then you shrug. “Okay.” You say, simple and nonchalant.

Aaron watches as you continue finishing getting ready and he doesn’t know if he should ask if you were actually okay with it.

He decides that it’s for the best, not getting any pushback or having to argue on why he’s just subconsciously pushing you away after having one of the best nights of his life.

“Okay.” He repeats, giving you a small nod, even though you weren’t looking at him. With one last glance to your surprisingly calm figure, he finishes collecting the rest of his things and heads out of the room.

Even after the team had checked out of their hotel and settled onto the jet, you didn’t spare him a second glance. You hadn’t necessarily moved to ignoring him or silently lashing out, but it was as if everything went back to normal, with no mentions or glances back to that night.

That should be what was driving him crazy; the way he didn’t know if you were only calm because you were planning on going to the higher-ups, to HR, about what had happened. If you were secretly planning on putting him on blast out of anger or betrayal or telling him that he had coerced you to sleep with him and threatened you in case you didn’t.

No. What was driving him crazy was that he couldn’t get you out of his head, even after he broke things off.

Everything was engraved into his mind, from the sight of you on your knees, mouth full of his cock while you stared up at him with tear-pricked eyelashes and basked in his praises. Or the way your nails dug into his skin as he thrusted into you and the way you felt around him, all while he took pleasure in the sweet sounds he emitted from you every second.

He was going mad, and the already established feelings he had for you weren’t helping, either.

Aaron stared at you from inside his office, studied your features from afar whilst you sat on your desk. Your face was set in a neutral expression, flickering your attention from your computer screens to the physical files in front of you, but all he could see was the same face and person morphed into the one that had been withering in pleasure underneath him.

“Hotch…” you whine, a hand wrapped around his bicep as he dipped a finger inside your glistening pussy.

He watched as your back arched off the bed, throwing your head back against the pillows at the feeling of his thick digit inside you, “What, sweetheart?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue easily. “What do you need? Hm?”

Your hips stuttered as he inserted another finger, thrusting them in and out you, “Y-You. I want you. Inside me.” You peered at him through your fluttering lashes, your mascara smudged underneath your eyes from the tears that had slipped out while you were sucking his cock.

“Yeah?” His voice is filled with amusement and bewilderment, one part of him indulging in seeing you this way—all disheveled and needy for him—while the other was still stunned at the whole thing. “Want my cock inside you after you just had it in your mouth?”

You nod meekly at his words, a sweet pout adorning your flushed lips.

Despite the heat and tension that suffocated the room, Aaron’s heart fluttered at the sight of you. The way you were asking for him ever so bashfully after just giving him the best head of his life tugged at his heartstrings and made his cock twitch.

“Please,” you whisper, bucking your hips upwards. A stuttered gasp emits from your lips when you feel the tip of his dick prod at your sopping entrance, “Aaron…”

Aaron lets out a low, throaty groan at the sound of his first name mumbled in desperation, and he thinks back to all the times he’s thought about you like this. How many times he’s dreamed of having you underneath him, encaged by his broad figure and whining for him.

“I got you, sweet girl,” he says promisingly. He lifts himself to his full height on his knees, lining himself up with your entrance and holding onto the meat of your thigh. Another groan utters from the back of his throat, mixed in with your gasps and puffs of breath as he begins to sink inside you.

A knock on his office door forces Aaron to snap out of his train of thought. He looks down at himself, registering the painfully hard boner he was now sporting. Quickly, he scooted further into his desk so that the tent in his pants wouldn’t be visible by whoever was knocking on his door. Clearing his throat, he lets out a somewhat proper ‘come in.’

In walks Garcia, and Aaron doesn’t know if he should be thankful or mortified it was her out of all people.

“Sir?” She asks politely, files in hand and head tilted in an ever so Penelope manner. “We’re ready whenever you are.”

Right. It was barely nine in the morning and Aaron was already sporting a growing tent in his suit pants.

He nods, doing his best to feign being busy, “I’ll be there in five, Garcia.”

He wants to think he comes out as somewhat normal, but panic surges through him briefly when her expression turns into a curious one.

“Are you alright, sir?” She takes a step forward and Aaron has to hold himself back from screaming for her to stay where she is. “You look red and pale at the same time.”

He shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively yet good-naturedly, “I’m fine. Jack is coming down with something and I think I might be, too.”

Great. Now he was using his innocent son as a scapegoat for his own horniness and bad decisions. Some father he was.

Garcia nods, looking convinced enough before bidding him a nod shuffling out of his office and closing the door behind her.

Aaron lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. His boner had softened the slightest bit, and he was conflicted in trying to make it go down completely or taking care of it right here and now. But the thought of having to face his team after fucking himself into his fist mortified him. Of seeing you, right after fucking himself into his fist to the thought of you after leaving you hanging coldly.

He opted out of it, though it took more than five minutes to settle himself before heading over to the conference room. Once again, he tried to play it as casual as possible while he walked to his seat with everyone staring expectantly at him, including you.

“Let’s get started.”

The team’s briefings went on as so, everyone presenting their perspective cases and discoveries within them. It was a bit easier to lose focus of what he was thinking earlier when the gory crime scenes showed up on the TV screen each time someone went up, but all focus was lost when it was your turn.

You stood from your seat, taking the control from Penelope’s hands and talking everyone through the case you were currently focusing on.

Aaron held his fist up to his face as he tried to focus on the details of the case instead of you and your entire being. Your hair whipped out and into your face each time you looked from the screen and back to the team. The top part of your dress twisted with each turn and motion you made, the bottom part of it creasing along with it. Was it a new dress?

Didn’t matter. It didn’t compare to the pajama shorts he had slowly, almost tauntingly, pulled down your legs before–

“...makes me think he’s keeping them in a secluded space. He obviously likes the control and the pleasure of having his victims’ screams and cries for help to himself, so I’ve advised police to search condemned and empty areas far away from the city and even on the outskirts of the town.” You finished with a nod and once again Aaron was snapped away from his unholy thoughts.

While everyone else added their own commentary and advice, Aaron realized he had been the only to have not said anything during your presentation, too preoccupied with you once more.

“Adding in the possibility of him keeping them outside of the main town the victims have been found in was a smart move,” He quickly added, trying his best to comment on what he had paid attention to. His breath hitched when you turned to look at him. “Law enforcement might have missed that and can collaborate with police from the next town over. Good job.”

You smiled softly and nodded in appreciation, “Thank you.”

Fuck. How were you so nonchalant about this? Aaron’s mind wandered back to the probability of you getting back at him by going to Strauss about your rendezvous. It was only early morning Monday, the first day back in the office after said events, so it wasn’t a surprise he hadn’t heard anything from her. Yet.

He nodded back in response, though, casting his gaze downwards and collecting his things, “Great. I expect everyone’s reports to be on my desk by tonight, please.”

Everyone stood from their seats, shuffling out of the room with mumbled conversations. Aaron held back, taking his time in looking through his files and stacking them together while you did the same, leaving the two of you alone once everyone else had gone.

He wanted to say something, gather the courage to ask you something. Anything, just to make sure you were alright. If the two of you were still right, in spite of everything.

Only when you finished collecting things did he bring himself to open his mouth, a soft utterance of your name to get your attention.

You stopped in your tracks, a good couple feet away from him and the door. You stared at him, waiting for him to speak with a neutral expression on your face.

Not one of annoyance or irritation. Just expectant.

God, you really were driving him crazy.

You raised a brow when he didn’t say anything, “…Yes?”

He clears his throat again before asking, “Is everything okay?”

You blink and tilt your head, dumbfounded, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Aaron grips at his files, guilt consuming him all over again. “With us,” he clarifies, swallowing harshly. “Is everything okay with us?”

You blink a couple more times, eyes wandering to the side as if you’re trying to catch onto what he’s implying.

It makes his heart churn.

“Oh.” You finally say, meeting his gaze. “Yes. We both agreed, no? To what you said.”

Aaron can’t decipher if the smile you give him is genuine or jeering, and he can’t tell if what you say last is clarifying as his answer or if it’s something underlyingly petty.

Either way it’s something. You’ve given him something and he’ll take it.

He nods finally, “Yes, we did.”

You shrug, smiling a bit wider this time, “All good then.”

He gives another curt nod, stepping to the side so you could exit the room. He moves to follow behind you, but he gets a whiff of your perfume as soon as you brush past him. The scent makes him halt and he has to hold onto one of the back posts of a chair to stabilize himself.

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the remnants that linger behind you for a moment.

He truly was going crazy.

The rest of the day goes by the same and hardly any work gets done on Aaron’s end. He’d scribble whatever he needed to write down or fill out then get distracted by the void of you.

It was getting impossible for him to keep working with the relentless problem that was his ongoing boner. He was tucked into his desk all the way yet it hurt whenever he leaned forward or backwards while moving around. Oftentimes he tried to give himself some sort of relief by running a hand over himself, but it didn’t help much, and the dirty thoughts about you certainly didn’t either.

The sounds that filled the room were lewd, your gags and moans from below mixed in with Aaron’s grunts and words of encouragement echoing off the hotel room’s walls. His large hand was entangled in your hair, pushing your head forward to take more of him, as if your jaw wasn’t aching enough already.

Though there wasn’t a way for him to tell, really. You gave no sign or indication that you wanted him to stop, your tongue swiping at the head of his cock each time he dipped your head even more. Saliva pooled from your tongue and leaked from your mouth, dripping into the carpeted floor and entailing a trail from your lips to your chin.

Aaron’s head was thrown back in utter pleasure and astonishment, bewildered that you’d ever be doing this to him. He didn’t want to finish before you, but it was taking everything him to not give in and fuck your face the way he truly desired.

He’d never received head this good, nor had he received it much recently. His legs were spread with you settled in between them contently. “That’s it sweetheart,” he mumbled, brushing fallen strands of hair out of your face lovingly. “Taking me so good, such a good girl.”

His praises only edged you on even further, bobbing your head up and down a couple more times before pulling off of him with a slick ‘pop!’ You rest your head on his thigh in an attempt to catch your breath, a shaky, stuttered sigh heaving from your chest as your hand comes up to continue the rest of your work.

Aaron has to run a hand over his face to try and keep his composure, his nails digging into the skin of his palm albeit their short length. He throws his head back against his chair, a grunt threatening to emit from his throat as he coercively runs his hand over his boner.

At least he wishes he can say it’s coercively, really it’s just a tainted image of you he’s embedded in his own dirty mind.

It doesn’t take long for Aaron to give in and reach inside his pants, sparing another careful glance to his now locked office door before springing his painfully hard cock free. A low, pleased grunt spills from his pursed lips as he wraps his hand around himself. He gives his length a good tug, bucking his hips up instantaneously, the same way he did when you first wrapped your mouth around him.

Still, as cautiously and quietly as possible, he begins to stroke at his length, a hand covering his mouth as he continues to dart his eyes from below himself to his door–as if anyone would walk in at any second and catch him jerking himself off in his own government-issued office.

He begins to imagine that his fist is you. That you’re sitting in the space between his legs with your hot mouth licking long stripes up his length and that your hand is toying with his balls the same way you did before. It only makes him pump at his fist even faster, the hand that was covering his mouth shooting down to the armrest of his chair, gripping at the cushioned leather as he began to reach his high.

“Fuck, Hotch, fuck!” Your whines are eccentric, head thrown back in pure ecstasy. Your legs wrap around Aaron’s waist, pulling him closer to you as he continues to thrust into your sopping pussy.

Aaron groans loudly, silently thanking that his and yours room was placed further down the hall from everyone else’s. His hands rest at the bottom of your thighs, his large hand gripping the flesh for support as he pounds into you relentlessly. Your pussy grips him like a vice and your nails dig into the skin of his biceps from where you hold him.

His sight is focused on you only, the way your tits bounce with each thrust and the way your mouth is curled into a wide ‘o’ from the pleasure you’re receiving.

“So good for me, baby,” he mumbles, hand coming down to grab at your breast, squeezing possessively before leaning down to crash his lips against yours hungrily.

You whine through the kiss, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging while your other hand scratches at his back. A string of saliva connects at your lips when he pulls away, his head dipping down to kiss and suck at your neck while he grabs your hips to better pistol himself inside you.

A moan echoes through the room again and straight to his ear, your back arching into his chest, “Feels so good, Aaron, so good!”

Aaron’s release sputters everywhere messily and he has to bite at his fist to stop himself from groaning loudly. His come spills onto parts of his leg, his desk, and even onto the floor. He leans back into his chair, trying to contain himself and his heaving chest.

He takes a look at the mess he created–the mess you unknowingly entailed from him. Like clockwork, the paranoia and guilt from doing this begins to seep in and he’s quick to snatch a handful of tissues from the box he kept on the corner of his desk to clean himself up. He tucks himself back into his pants then moves to clean at his desk and his floor.

Clearly, he hadn’t known what he was thinking. Not when it came to calling things off between the two of you before they even happened and certainly not now after he realized the spell he was currently in.

The last hour of the work day comes by agonizingly slowly. After his little session, Aaron finds it a little bit easier to get the rest of his work done (key word: a little bit). The rest of the members all begin to spill into his office to hand in their finished paperwork and files, all of them sparing him brief glances of curiosity and concern–the same way Garcia had done earlier–before bidding him goodnight and leaving.

The only one that hasn’t come to hand in anything was you. He knew you were still here, he could see you sitting at your desk from the view through his blinds, scribbling away casually like you had been doing so the whole day. After you had stalled to follow behind the rest of your co-workers, Aaron had gotten up from his desk and pretended to be walking around his office with a file in hand, lifting his head every few minutes to see if you were ever making your way towards him to turn in your work.

He wanted desperately to know what you were thinking. If you were secretly being tortured by the recollections of your hook-up, too, or if you truly didn’t care about him basically dumping you after having sex with you and telling you that it could never happen again due to your perspective titles.

With a defeated sigh, he closes the file he was still pretending to read. His eyes instinctively travel back to where your desk was at and his breath immediately catches in his throat when he sees that you aren’t there. He hears the sound of footsteps approaching closer and closer through the staircase that leads up to his office and you walk in soon after.

You freeze in the doorway when you see that he’s already staring at you. Your eyes flicker to a space behind him then back at him before you take a tentative step back and glance at the clock hung on the wall facing his desk, “Uh, is this a bad time?”

“No!” Aaron takes a step forward when you take another one back. He rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly, “No, no, it’s not. I didn’t know you were still here. Everyone else left almost half an hour ago.”

“Oh,” you glance back behind you to the rest of the bullpen before looking back at him. “I was just finishing up the reports you said you wanted done by the end of today.” You jut your chin toward the stack of files you were carrying in one arm.

“Right.” He clears his throat, motioning to the pile of files the rest of the team had stacked on his desk. “You can just leave them there.”

You nod, giving him a small smile.

He watches as you walk over to his desk, taking in your appearance while you double-check that everything was correct. He swallowed harshly, taking in the way your skirt hugged your lower figure perfectly the same way it did during the morning debriefing. Your hair flows ever so slightly and he takes in a good look at your side profile when you tuck a loose strand behind your ears while you continue to flip through the pages of your file.

You’re breathtakingly gorgeous and Aaron doesn’t know if what suddenly makes him start walking up behind you is from what he’s felt since sleeping with you or if it’s everything he’s felt since way before that.

You halt your movements when you feel his presence directly behind you, gasping when you turn and find how close he was standing.

“Hotch–” you gulp, heat blooming through your cheeks albeit feeling confused. “W-What are you doing?”

Aaron takes in your tone and he can tell that you’re not asking in a disgusted, annoyed way, more so in a flustered way. He lifts a hand to brush the hair that frames your face past your face but doesn’t actually move to do it, keeping it there to see if you push him away. But you don’t. So he brushes it away.

“I can’t get you out of my head.” He mumbles, eyes boring into the side of your face as you stare up at him as best as you can from your practically rigid figure.

You scoff, a sound filled with so much humor yet so little at the same time, “You were the one that said this couldn’t happen again.” You twist your head, trying to turn your body around more with the way he had you pressed against the front of his desk.

“That was a mistake,” he whispers. He dips his head so that his mouth is by your ear, watching you shiver from the proximity.

“A mistake?” You repeat, brows raised. You lull your head to the side but you don’t know if you do it to get away from him or to grant him access to your neck.

Aaron takes it as the latter and hovers his lips over your skin, the same spot where he had left splotches of pink and purple last time.

“Yes,” he confirms, “a mistake.”

You want to ask why he said it then, want to press him for answers but you can’t when his hot breath sends shivers down your spine and arms. Your legs go weak when he brings a hand around you to wrap at your middle, big hand splayed across your stomach to pull you in even closer, if possible.

“H-Hotch,” you clear your throat. “We can’t. You said so yourself.” You roll your shoulders back in a weak effort to push him away, but all he does is hold you tighter.

“I was wrong,” he mutters, pressing a feather-light kiss to the very side of your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of your perfume again and letting out a pleased hum from the back of his throat. “I was so wrong.”

You gasp when he flings an arm out in front of you, proceeding to knock over the multiple things from his desk. Files, pens, and other trinkets fly off the hard wood and land on the floor with a loud crash. Aaron spins you around before you can process the whole mess, turning you around so that you were facing him.

“Aaron-!” Your mind is a whirlwind as he grabs at your hips and easily sets you down on the edge of the desk. His lips crash onto yours messily and you hum, satisfied.

The kiss quickly becomes sloppy and hungry, muffled whines as you two practically devour one another. Your hands wrap around his neck while his own roam your body, curious hands searching for the zipper of your dress and bunching up the fabric in the process. You mewl when he finally finds it and slowly tugs it down. You break apart from the kiss in order to help him, scrambling from side to side so that it comes off from under you.

Aaron lets out a groan at the sight of you as he tosses the dress to the side. You’re wearing a matching set: a lacy white bra that cups your breasts gorgeously and a lacy white thong paired with it. It takes everything in him to not come undone right then and there.

Holding your gaze, Aaron sinks to his knees, shrugging off his suit jacket as he kneels before you.

“Aaron…”

He immediately shushes you, discarding the jacket somewhere next to your dress on his office floor. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

Instead of obeying, you knock your knees together bashfully, the fat of your thighs pressing against each other.

Aaron’s eyes darken at your shy defiance. “I said spread your legs.” His hands come out to grab behind your knees and you gasp again when he spreads them apart forcefully, large hands holding them in place.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he utters, gaze locked on your soaked panties. His palms slide down your legs, eyes flickering back up at you as he begins to kiss at your calves. Each peck to your skin leaves a wet trail from your earlier kiss and you whine in anticipation as he makes his way up before coming face to face with your pussy. His fingers hook themselves inside the thin fabric and you immediately get the message, lifting your hips once more so he could slide them down your legs

Aaron swiftly shoves the wet material into his pockets, wasting no time before diving straight in and burying his head in between your thighs.

His tongue swiping at your folds elicits a loud moan from you, your hands shooting out to grab at his head, “Aaron!” You yell out, fingers tangling in his hair to stabilize yourself from the suddenness.

Aaron grunts from below you, the sound sending vibrations up your body and causing you to arch into his touch. He didn’t know how he hadn’t thought of tasting you that night in the hotel room, too preoccupied with the pleasure he had received from you. But–dare he say–this was better than head, better than anything else he had ever gotten, tasted or even done. He wasn’t even a minute into devouring you and he had already decided that this was the best pussy he had ever had in his whole life.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this pussy.” He lapped at your juices, mouth hot on your dripping cunt. His hands continued to grip at your thighs, large palms still keeping you in place from where you were writhing in pleasure.

“A-Aaron,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his face. “Please, I need you. Need you so bad.”

Your head was thrown back in utter bliss, hips stuttering with each nibble at your clit. Your fingers tugged his face closer despite the longing you had to feel him inside you, caging his head to keep him there.

Aaron couldn’t help but bask in the sounds he was pulling from you. It was as if his mouth had a mind of his own and all it could focus on was licking up every single one of your juices, the taste nearly intoxicating. He flickered his eyes up to you, taking in the way your chest heaved and your breasts pushed against the cups of your bra, practically spilling out.

Without removing his tongue from your pussy, he reaches behind you and easily undoes the hooks.

You let the straps fall from your shoulders and aid him in tossing it somewhere in the room along with your dress. Desperately, you reach for Aaron’s hands and place them on your breasts, groaning when he rolls each already hard and sensitive nipple in between your fingers.

Your legs begin to shake and you’re quick to wrap them around Aaron’s head, the heels of your feet digging into his muscular back. “Mm, fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you toss your head back as the coil in your belly threatens to snap.

“Yeah?” He teases, angling his head so that he could spit onto your cunt, all before diving right back in and swirling it together with your arousal. “You gonna cum on my mouth, honey?”

You nod, feverishly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel your orgasm getting closer and closer.

“Go ahead, pretty,” Aaron ushers, voice deep and rough from his non stop nibbling and sucking. “Come on my mouth, sweetheart.”

A certain bite on your clit immediately has you seeing stars and the office is soon filled with your cries of ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you violently. Your body shakes and stutters as you ride out the high on his face, leaning backwards until your back was resting against his desk.

Aaron doesn’t relent even as you begin to come down from your high, enhancing the way your legs shook from where they were wrapped around him.

“No, n-no more, Aaron, p-please,” you begged, keeping your back on the desk while weakly attempting to push him away.

“Just one more, honey. You can give me one more, can’t you?”

You don’t get the chance to answer, back arching off the desk as his fingers prodded at your entrance briefly before he shoved two inside. A high-pitched moan emitted from your swollen lips and your hips rutted against his face once more as he scissored the thick digits inside your gummy walls.

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it,” Aaron’s sultry words only encouraged you further, his face wet with your arousal and the release of your first orgasm. “I’m gonna make it up to you, sweetheart. But first you gotta give me another one.”

His thumb came up alongside his mouth to rub rough circles on your already sensitive, swollen clit and you immediately felt that coil snap once more, mixing in with the first orgasm you hadn’t even properly come down from.

“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron!” You mumbled dumbly, mouth agape and head hanging back from the desk as you rode out your second high on his face, the heavy wood shaking with every motion.

Aaron’s head was buried even further in between your legs, lips trying to catch every single drop that leaked from your hole, pulling out your fingers and cleaning them with a swirl from his tongue. He delivered a sweet kiss to your folds before standing, his knees cracking in response to being kneeled on the ground for so long.

He leans over, bringing a guiding hand to the back of your neck to get you to sit up, “You good, honey?” Aaron asks, brushing away the stray hands of hair that had stuck to your face. “Still with me?”

You hum, nodding weakly, “Need you, Aaron.”

Aaron chuckles at your fucked-out form, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, “I got you, sweetheart. Bend over the desk for me.”

You stand on wobbly legs and do as he says blindly, the need to have him inside you outshining your nearing overstimulation. You feel yourself salivate as the sound of him undoing his belt is heard from behind you and you look back to watch him pull himself out from his boxers.

He hears you gasp when his cock springs out and hits against his stomach, tip an angry red and leaking with precome. He wraps a hand around himself and groans at how painfully hard he was. He quickly lines himself up with your entrance, slapping his length against your dripping folds before easing himself inside little by little.

You whine from in front of him when he bottoms out, the tip of his dick easily hitting your sweet spot the same way it did before in the hotel. This time, though, it feels even better with how wet you already were, his cock glistening when he pulls out before shoving himself back in roughly.

It doesn’t take long for Aaron to set a brutal pace, hands on your hips as he begins to pound into you from behind ruthlessly, a stark contrast from the way he had asked you if you were okay.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You have no idea how crazy you’ve driven me since I first fucked this pretty pussy,” Aaron grunted form behind, fingers digging so hard into your hips he was sure there would be an imprint there. “Had to get myself off in my own office, that’s how crazy you had me going.”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Your mouth is wide open, small huffs the only noise you can make while a line of saliva drools from your tongue. It’s only when you feel him wrap your hair in his hand and pull your back flush against his chest that you squeal, the angle pushing his cock further inside you.

“You like that, pretty?” He asks deeply, voice hoarse and gravely as he continues to pound into your pussy, the squelching that comes from beneath scandalous. “Like getting this pussy fucked by me, huh?”

You nod dumbly, too fucked out to properly answer him. A harsh slap against your ass makes you cry out, the sting somewhat snapping you back to reality.

“Answer me,” Aaron commands, tugging at your hair and making your back arch even further against him. “Did I fuck you dumb like last time?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble, legs shaking even in your standing position. “I l-love it, Aaron. Feels so g-good.”

He chuckles against your ear, the way you could barely register his questions only making him quicken his pace, “You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart? Gonna give me one more wrapped around me?”

You nod with as much fervor as possible, “Yes, y-yes, can I, Aaron? Want you to c-cum inside me, please.”

“Yeah? Want me to stuff you full of my cum?” He asks. He doesn’t bother to correct you when you don’t answer, instead snaking his hand to your front and down to your pussy.

The feel of him rubbing circles on your clit is the final push you need before you’re clenching around him, body trembling against him as he continues his assault on your swollen bud.

It doesn’t take long for Aaron to spill his own release inside you, giving you a couple more shallow thrusts as he comes down from his own high.

You whine when you feel him pull out, a string of your mixed releases following suit on the tip of his cock.

“So good, baby,” he praises, wrapping a hand around your neck gently and pressing soothing kisses on your cheek. “Did so good for me.”

You lean your head against his shoulder as he reaches for some tissues to clean you up, “So I guess we’re definitely doing this again?”

Aaron laughs, a pink adorning his cheeks, “Yes. Yes, we are. In fact, I’m telling everyone to work from home tomorrow so I can take you on a proper date. I’m not risking going crazy again.”

You suppress a giggle, “You went crazy? Over my pussy?”

He sighs, “If only you knew.”

[fayes-fics]

Mirror, Mirror

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: When Benedict's wife tries on his clothes, things happen...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, cross-dressing, clothing kink, light biting, breast play, a smidge of intercrural sex, very mild exhibitionism, mirror sex, vaginal sex.

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: Request fill for @d-caryophyllus (HERE) about Benedict being aroused by his wife dressing up in his clothing. I hope this fits what you were hoping for, my dear. Thanks as ever to @colettebronte for the beta read. Yes, the title is a nod to Season 3, lol. Err, enjoy! <3

It’s early in the morning on a mundane Thursday when a somewhat daring idea forms in your mind. 

Fresh out of your morning bath, you dismiss your maid quietly when usually she would assist you with dressing for the day. As the double doors click closed discreetly behind her, you glance through the open archway into your bedroom; heavy curtains still drawn there, obscuring the sunlight. In the darkness, you can just decipher the outline of your husband sleeping soundly after a late night of carousing with his brothers.

With a little secret smile, you decide that, yes, now is the perfect time. He is asleep, and you have a few hours to spare until your first social engagement - a ladies' luncheon - so why not use the time to satisfy your curiosity?

You stride to your husband's side of the dressing room, opening his wardrobe doors and running your fingers over the items within—a symphony of wools, silks and cotton, all luxurious to the touch. While he is arguably one of the more flamboyantly dressed men of the Ton, with eye-catching jewel-toned waistcoats and colourful cravats, the basics of his outfit are mostly the same every time: dark trousers and a white shirt. A large part of you is envious of that easier choice. Sometimes, it feels like a veritable minefield being a woman during the social season, the looming threat of an unintended fashion faux pas simply by wearing the wrong colour to the wrong event.

Upon a chair, you spy the outfit he discarded when he came home in the early hours, not yet tidied away by your staff. You decide this shall be your choice, a frisson that they are already worn.

Dropping your bathrobe from your shoulders, you grab the pair of his trousers and pull them on. The finely woven wool feels plush on your skin, and there is an undeniable novelty in having fabric between your thighs. They are, however, almost comically long for you, and you have to bend to roll them up a few times around your ankles. Bemused, you briefly catch sight of your reflection in the full-length dressing room mirror, topless in oversized trousers. 

You snatch his white shirt and pull it on, pausing to tug the ruffled lapels up to your face and inhale deeply, enjoying the flood of scent there. His woodsy citrus cologne, yes, but also that undercurrent that is all him. That tang you cannot help but bury your face into, be it upon his pillow when he is away or his body while you cling to him, moving together in ecstasy. 

You fasten a few buttons, then tuck the shirt into the trousers and loop the braces hanging loose around your hips up onto your shoulders, once again inspecting your reflection in the mirror with a wry smile, twisting this way and that, admiring how different you look dressed in his clothing.

“Wife, what are you doing?” 

You almost jump out of your skin as that velvet tone, slightly roughened by sleep, calls out from across the room. You twist to see Benedict leaning casually upon the archway into the dressing room, shooting you a look that is pure menacing intrigue while looking like sin himself—all riotous bedhead, and, as your eyes slip further down, gloriously naked. It makes you swallow hard.

“I… I was trying on your clothes,” you stumble sheepishly, a blush creeping over your cheeks being caught doing something perhaps rather bizarre. 

“Any reason?” he queries, bemused, that crooked smile claiming his features.

“They just seem so much more practical and comfortable—especially trousers. I would like to wear such things…” you confess, turning back to the mirror to appraise your appearance again, watching him prowl towards you in the reflection. “Are… are you vexed with me, husband? For taking such liberties?” Your words petering out, mildly abashed.

A large, warm hand wraps around your shoulder, yanking you back almost roughly, making you gasp as your shoulder blades collide with his chest.

“The precise opposite,” he rumbles, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, a sudden burning intensity that makes your lungs feel tight. 

Long fingers spider down his brocade brace, draped down your chest, lingering where the strap rests over your nipple, swiping his thumb in a deliberate tease, his face triumphant as you swoon back into him from just this simple touch. 

“My clothes look much better upon you than me,” he opines duskily, his lips tracing your temple as his fingertips push the brace aside to capture your nipple through the thin cotton shirt, making you inhale sharply. “Perhaps we should attend a party with you dressed like this?”

“That would be a scandal!” 

There is a vault in your stomach at the idea of attending a social event dressed in his clothes, even as you melt under his questing touch.

“Not in the more… bohemian… circles that I know of…” he contends; his breath is a warm gust in your ear as his other hand does the same, fondling both nipples now.

He waits until you meet his gaze in the mirror again, then lowers his lips to your neck and bites gently. His incisors a faint scrape, immediately soothed by a wide, wet lathe of his tongue. A little crest of victory as something sizeable stirs against the cleft of your bottom. 

“If I were dressed as you, then what would you wear, husband?” 

“Whatever you would like, my darling,” he offers between soft, damp kisses, a tingle running up your neck from his lips to the top of your scalp. “I could wear your clothing should you wish it. Or perhaps just your corset and underwear?” He nuzzles into you, taking a deep breath. “Our little secret…”

Something about his tone, the images he concocts, makes your blood run warm, your hand reaching up and diving into his luscious hair, tugging gently upon his roots so again he feels compelled to use his teeth, a groan bubbling up from within as he does. With a flick of his wrists, the braces fall from your shoulders, and he cups your breasts through his thin cotton shirt. It makes you sigh his name, asking for more, arousal coursing thickly through your veins—a yen to be taken right away. 

“The thought arouses you, does it not?” he correctly surmises, trailing his touch down over the shirt, brushing your ribs and belly to the fastening on the trousers, making short work of the buttons.

You nod demurely, biting your lip as you watch his dextrous hands in the mirror, his arms encircling you; it is almost as if he is removing them from himself. The air feels heady as he pushes the loosened fabric from around your frame, and it hits the rug with an audible thump.

Standing before him in just his ruffled white shirt with only a few buttons fastened, you feel his weighted stare in the mirror, lingering on the patch of hair at the apex of your thighs peeking out between the shirt sides.

“I shall prefer you keep this on…” he asserts, popping open a button over your chest so the fabric opens enough for him to slide a hand inside, tweaking your nipple and pulling you back into his frame, rutting his now solid cock against your bottom.

You turn your head to press your lips to his, imploring for more of his touch in a fervent whisper before seeking a kiss. His mouth is hot on yours, rolling his tongue with yours, endless caresses of your breasts as you burn so hot you rub your thighs together in delicious anticipation of more, already more than ready for him, your clit pulsing with each tease of his tongue.

“Here?”

You know what he is asking—if you wish to have sex right where you stand, in front of your dressing mirror, his shirt loose around your body, him naked behind you.

“Yes. Yes please…” you murmur into his mouth, rolling your body against him, telegraphing unmistakable need.

“The window is open,” he points out with a smirk, nodding towards a high window that allows in light to the dressing room but affords you not to be seen; it is open this morning to let in the summer breeze. “What if we are heard?”

“I care not,” you confess, exhaling jaggedly, knowing he likes you in this state, desperate and debauched, uncaring if you may be overheard in your pursuit of pleasure. 

Rubbing yourself upon him akin to a feline in heat, moving so his cock passes teasingly between your thighs now as you writhe. He groans and tells you not to stop, hissing his approval. So you squeeze your legs together tightly, allowing him to rut between them, the pass of his cock glancing maddeningly over your engorged clit.

His touch becomes heavier, hands mapping your body as his hips surge, and you see the red, weeping tip of his cock emerging and disappearing in the mirror, an intoxicating sight. You moan lightly with every pass, a tantalising swipe, not enough to bring you real pleasure, just notching your want higher.

He finally takes pity upon you, angling his hips differently and driving into you; you, moaning at the invasion so deep and encompassing, rocked up onto your tiptoes. Every time he has entered your body, it's always the same: a force that steals your breath and makes your eyes roll. His hands are a firm grip around your waist as he withdraws slowly back, then surges in again, capturing your earlobe in his teeth as he does.

As your eyes meet in the mirror, you idly wonder how many other wives are watching themselves being fucked by a handsome husband like this; a bright weekday morning, birdsong wafting in on the scented breeze, body wrapped only in his shirt. You suspect none are quite so lucky.

You moan his name and arch back against him, wrapping your hands around his neck and watching yourself being taken, relying on him to keep your stance steady as he starts to fuck into you in earnest, large hands sliding up to cup your breasts, engulfing them in his warm palms.

Unable to stop the noises you make, each pass hitting all the spots inside that make your toes curl into the thick pile of the rug beneath your feet, your pussy clenching around his invasion, making him growl and move faster, taking you harsher, an onslaught that is as pleasurable as it is powerful.

His mouth is a breathy litany of praise into your cheekbone, your eyes fluttering closed to focus on the carnal moment - the sweat, the skin, the ragged breaths, the meeting of your bodies so primal and glorious, but he has other ideas.

“Look at yourself,” he purrs dulcetly, your eyes reopening to do as he asks, to watch this unrestrained moment of passion, to see the little marks blooming on your body from where his fingers dig into your flesh as he pounds into you now, a flourish of colour on your neck from his thorough attention.

You plead for more throatily, pushing back as best you can against his thrusts, wanting him to make you scream, uncaring of any audience inside or outside your townhouse, only craving the sweet, blissful release he always provides.

Abruptly, he wrenches open the shirt you wear, one button pinging forward and tinking against the mirror before skittering across the floor, your naked body framed by his crisp white shirt, the ruffled lapels tickling the sides of your breasts, catching sight of his handsome face in the mirror contorted in a passionate tempest.

Then one hand slides down your front, you feeling it rippling in your belly and seeing it in your reflection before you until those fingers slide between your legs and hook over your clit with a force that steals the air from your lungs, a sharp stab of pleasure that makes your knees buckle, him pausing in his motions briefly to brace your weight, keep you upright.

Then it is a blur as he restarts his motion, his fingers dance on your swollen pearl, slipping silkily over his touch as he grunts encouragements. It feels like you are circling for so long, so close to something mind-blowing, but then he flicks harshly with his fingernail and bites your neck, and you are hurtling. Everything is loud and quiet at once, no doubt your voice calling his name as you tumble over the edge, clenching hard around him as your whole body shatters and rebuilds in a blissful puzzle. Dimly, as you float, you feel his entire body tense, and with a roar, he follows you over, a warmth blooming inside you as he reaches completion. 

There are a few moments of panted breaths as you both recover from the intensity before he spins you around and sweeps you into his arms, carrying you back to bed. There, he lays you down gently and proceeds to turn you into a molten, quivering pile, mapping your body with his lips and fingers until you are begging for him again, which he more than obliges. So much so you are almost late for your social engagement.

If there are a few derogatory looks as you swan into the ladies' luncheon with a blissful smile and a burgeoning mark on your neck from your husband's amorous intentions, well, so be it. You wouldn't change it for the world.

And it is also most definitely not the last time you dress up in his clothes…

Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kmc1989 @desert-fern @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @sya-skies