#i keep feeling like i have to be on here All The Time to maintain social progress ive made instead of trying to find a balance of being

[copilot-crashout]

hii!! >w< may i request anti-tulpar au mouthwashing characters x gender neutral reader hcs? (both sfw and/or nsfw hcs? honestly i don’t mind if you leave out the nsfw part, sfw hcs are just fine! ^^) i haven’t seen a lot of anti-tulpar content and i love the au smmmm! your work is also so good omgg >w<

Pairing: Anti!Tulpar crew x gn!reader

Content Warning: There are NSFW HCs here! It's my first time writing anything NSFW. Please keep that in mind!! ( -᷄ _ -᷅ ; ) Also, there are mentions of stalking Jimmy + blood kink for him. Misogynistic ideology on Curly's part.

[A/N]: I love anti!Tulpar so much... They're so interesting to me!! ˶ ˊ ᵕ ˋ ˶ Since both of these asks were similar, I decided to combine them... If @livvizible wants Anti!Curly separately, please ask me again!! ᕦ(˵•̀ᴥ•́˵)ᕤ

In other news, if people want to talk to me more personally, I'd be happy to make another blog/give my other socials. Just let me know~!

[SFW] CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> He runs a tight ship, nothing gets past his eyes. Whatever orders he barks out, he expects to be followed. His ship is one set by law and order, and yet you seem to be the only exception. You're the only one he could consider his equal, after all.

-> This guy thrives off PDA. He'd be happy to make out with you in front of the rest of the crew, so long as they know who you belong to. He always keeps a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him when he's focused on his work and when he wants to distract you. His pride still hits you, but rather than being worked like a dog, he drags you out of it, only to chuckle at how easy it was to distract you.

-> Speaking of work, he'd be happy to let you into the cockpit, so long as you finished your assigned tasks for the day. While he wouldn't normally be one for too much affection while piloting the ship, he'd be happy to let you sit in his lap while he worked. He rests his head on your shoulder as he stares at the screen before him, keeping an eye on where they are heading.

-> Please make sure he doesn't work himself to the bone. If you bring him some snacks or a drink and keep him company, he'll thrive off it more than he can say. He still yearns for aspects of domestic life, the peacefulness foreign to him, but a welcome unknown, nonetheless.

-> Loves to give gifts. This man has expensive taste, and he's sure to show that to you with the gifts he gets you. You're a reflection of him. If he wants to maintain his image, you need to be in top shape, too. That's the excuse he gives, at least, when instead of a brand new set of clothes, he settles for giving you a massage, his tough hands working the knots in your back, eyes drilling into you with a focused glare.

[NSFW] CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> He's a certified freak. You've probably had sex in most of the rooms. His dick throbs at the idea of someone catching you two while you fuck, as if it's the equivalent of marking you as his. Though most rounds are usually quickies, he doesn't have time for long, drawn-out nights. That, and it makes him feel too vulnerable to have soft, vanilla sex.

-> The Captain is known to smoke cigars. He's more than happy to extinguish them on your body. During work hours, it's a press onto the back of your hand, the heat burning the skin to leave a mark that would heal within a few days. During sex, he grins as he watches your body flinch at the sudden heat pressed onto your back, leaving a mark only he can see.

-> He's not one to ever bottom. His belief in masculinity makes him near-inflexible in the bedroom. Giving up control in any sense of the word is too effeminate for him even worse when it's voluntary. He's a man; He shouldn't be the one whimpering or begging for mercy. Instead, he fucks you raw. His favourite position is doggy style (trust). He's pulling your hair; forcing you into a sloppy kiss as he fucks you senseless.

-> Mirror sex with him is so attractive. He wants you to see the power he lords over you, how dishevelled you look in front of your superior. He can't help but admire how captivating you are, back arched and whining for more, a steady thrum of power coursing through his veins. He knows he's the only one to make you feel that good, and he certainly won't stop.

[SFW] JANITOR JIMMY:

-> He's surprised you even wanted to date someone like him. Jimmy can only see himself as the dirt beneath your shoe. He barely deserves to be seen, especially by you, but he's ecstatic when you give him the time of day. Jimmy's better described as your loyal worshipper rather than a lover.

-> Jimmy finds himself too excited at the prospect of standing next to you. He's giddy, grinning like a schoolgirl for having the luxury of breathing the same air as you. His devotion to you is unwavering.

-> He faces relentless bullying from the other crew members becoming the designated doormat of the ship. He's embarrassed about it. Not because of his treatment. No, no. His fears are about how they reflect on you, his sweet darling. Is he unsightly to you? He isn't a strong man, he'd understand if you treated him the same too. He deserved it.

-> You're too good for the ship. You shouldn't be working a blue-collar, dead-end job like this. How about you leave it all to him. You won't even have to lift a single pretty finger. Just acknowledge him, and he'll be yours forever. He'd work himself to the bone so long as you smiled at him.

-> If you asked for anything, he would do his best to fulfil it! Need a drink? He could prepare coffee better than that simple vending machine. He knows your taste. Tired? He'll be your loyal assistant, trailing you more like a lost puppy as he asks you to bark orders at him!

-> Jimmy uses his role to his advantage. He's just the janitor, so he needs to be in your room to clean in, silly! He'll leave small gifts in places only you or he would ever see. A small necklace in your cupboard drawer, notes professing their adoration on your mirror. He wants you to know how much you mean to him! If you notice a pencil missing here or a glove missing there, he can only give you a small pout and a promise to look out for it while he's cleaning.

-> He's red-faced and stuttering whenever you make any contact with him, eyes focused on anything but you. Jimmy could just faint then and there when you kissed his cheek for the first time. He barely initiated any contact at the beginning of your relationship, still believing it couldn't be true. Jimmy was sure it was just a dare from Anya. Eventually, he warms up to it, happy to hold you for as long as you'd like, the caveat being it would be in private rather than anything the others could see.

-> He memorises your schedule. That's not creepy, is it? If you see him more often while working, he gives you a bright grin, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he lets you get on with your work, lest you want Captain Curly to yell you into tears. Your relationship is quiet but finds itself weaved into the mundanity of the ship. Its presence is a lingering feeling of warmth rather than any outstanding proclamation of true love.

[NSFW] JANITOR JIMMY:

-> Worship, worship, worship. It goes both ways, honestly. He leaves small kisses across your body, misty-eyed as he thanks you, thanks whatever God there is that you somehow find worth in him. Even if you were using him, it would be okay. You see him. If you praised him, he'd break into tears, soft sobs as your gentle hands trail over his scar-littered body (some from little cuts on the job, others from "accidents" he experienced in his life). He's never felt so happy. It's as close to heaven as he'll ever get to.

-> He's a sucker for any position where he can see your face. He needs reassurance from you to see you enjoying your time together. It's soft and romantic, something he didn't think he'd ever be able to experience.

-> He's not loud in bed by any means (at least when he tops). The most you hear are soft whines while he ruts into you hard or a breathy moan when he cums. If he bottoms, it's a whole different story. He feels totally ashamed, but it's mixed in with such pleasure that his whole self is thrown off. He lets out loud moans, trying to silence himself with his own hand. If you pull his hand away, he squeezes his eyes shut, afraid to see your reaction when he's begging for more.

-> You are his top priority. Anything you want, he'll give you. Nothing is off the table for him, so long as it's what you want. Feel free to get as freaky as you want with him, he'll allow it (and at some point finds himself enjoying it, too).

-> As soft as he is, I think Jimmy has a pretty strong sadistic streak. Definitely has a blood kink, honestly. There's something utterly depraved, hauntingly infatuating in giving him the power to wound yourself and him, pressing them together to stare as the blood spills over, intertwining the very essence of yourselves. Unsanitary and could probably cause infections? Yeah. Is it hot? Absolutely.

-> Following this train of thought, he has it in him to snap and go rough. Once in a blue moon, when tensions are too high and you've been ignoring him for a moment too long, he'll grab your wrist harshly and pull you into an abandoned room, whispering how much he hates it when you ignore him. He'll find ways for you to keep your eyes on him, even if it means a rough fuck where anyone can walk in.

[SFW] ACTUARY DAISUKE:

-> He's very cat-like. Whenever he's free from work, he'll go out of his way to find you, only to start complaining at how much of a task it was to find you. Yet, he still stays. Watching as you work, waiting until you're finished so all your attention can be devoted to him.

-> You're co-workers first, and lovers second. He worked hard to get his job here and would rather be caught dead than be seen as 'unprofessional.' Daisuke initiating any kind of affection is left strictly behind closed doors. The same doesn't have to apply to you.

-> If you surprise him with any kind of affection in public, he'll grumble, yet won't push you off. His excuse? You'd only get more clingy if he denies you attention now. Just don't mention how he relaxed at your touch, face softening a fraction by your company or else he'll push you off and storm off to the opposite side of the ship.

-> Another character for gifts. An actuary gets paid well, and he's got the things he needs. Might as well spend it on you. He'd never mention the way his heart skips when he sees your face light up at his surprise gift - no matter how expensive it was.

-> He's still one to play games, though! He knows all the cheat codes and he's a total completionist - a perfectionist in every sense of the word. Daisuke would be more than happy to let you play but would be even more ecstatic if you watched him play in the privacy of his room.

[NSFW] ACTUARY DAISUKE:

-> He bottoms, most if not all the time. He's just so stressed. He works so hard. What's a better way to unwind than spending time with his beloved?

-> He lets out breathy moans whenever you suck him off. Daisuke isn't one for roughness, as much as he tries to say otherwise. He's not the type to be extremely loud. The most you hear is a quiet "fuck..." from him, or a small whine.

-> Fan of mutual masturbation. He wants to know everything about you. That, and he enjoys watching your eyes flicker from his face down to his hand stroking his own cock. If Daisuke is in a good mood, he might make small comments, most being rhetorical questions about how you ever felt good without him.

-> There are so few headcanons for him NSFW-wise as I don't think he has much of a libido, honestly. It's unlike Tulpar!Daisuke where it's through the roof. He's happy to accommodate your needs, otherwise it's not something he thinks about.

[SFW] MECHANIC ANYA:

-> She's prideful, and she's not afraid to show it. By extension, you should be just as confident. Anya is your biggest hype girl. No matter what you do on the ship, she's there with a wide grin, ruffling your hair with a compliment.

-> As the mechanic, she's strong. You'll find yourself off the ground at random points of the day, Anya throwing you over her shoulder and sauntering off to god knows where. She'll never ask for your attention, only pulling stunts like these because she deserves it, obviously.

-> She wants you to praise her, too. Anya shows off around you, talking to you about a difficult task she was able to solve, or how even the Captain had to call her over to sort something out in the cockpit. She preens whenever she hears you comment on a job well done, brushing it off with a "Well, it was simple."

-> The girl is your biggest defender. If Daisuke gets too snappy with you, or the Captain is ripping you a new one, Anya will intervene with no remorse. She's happy to send them an irritated glare, pushing you behind her as she complains about how they even have the time to complain in the first place.

-> Playful ribbing with her is a must. You won't have a day with Anya where she doesn't poke fun at you (lovingly). If you tease back, she makes it a competition. Curly's exasperated when he pulls you two out of the third fake fight of the week.

[NSFW] MECHANIC ANYA:

-> Her sole focus is on you. She knows she's great in bed and she'll prove it.

-> A fan of anything oral, especially as foreplay. Her grin only widens when you're on your third orgasm of the night, begging her to slow down when she hasn't even gotten to the main show yet. If you gave her oral, she's clinging to your hair, her other hand clutching the bedsheet with a knuckle-white grip.

-> She's a huge fan of contact. Her hands are trailing any part of you that's not covered, poking and petting to see your reaction. She gets a massive kick out of it if you're especially ticklish. Even during sex, she'll find a way to make you giggle.

-> Another one for exhibitionism, except worse. She's happy to use any toy on you, so long as she holds onto the remote. Anya stands in the kitchen, eyes focused on you trying to keep your composure.

-> On particularly stressful days, she'll let you top and God's is she loud. She can only flush red when you slap your own hand over her mouth, desperately whining and bucking her hips into whatever touch you give her, her usual pride shattered.

[SFW] CHEF SWANSEA:

-> The kindest man on the ship, by far. You're everything he could've dreamed of. Daisuke rolls his eyes whenever he sees you together, grumbling about the jobs you were both forgetting about.

-> He's an old soul, and by extension has more traditional ideas of romance. His favourite thing to do is to wake you up with breakfast in bed, watching you get accustomed to being back in the land of the living, setting a tray of food in front of you.

-> The domestic life is pure bliss for him. It's hard on a ship with such extreme characters, but the kitchen becomes a second home to both of you. The others don't seem to care much for it – bar Jimmy who has to clean it every so often – meaning you two can spend quiet time together.

-> He'll teach you his recipes! He's happily waltzing around the kitchen, keeping an eye on you (and the food) as he tells you the common mistakes people make when cooking.

-> Shockingly good at reading any mood. You won't even have to tell him you're feeling sad, as he's already lending you a hand wherever you need it.

[NSFW] CHEF SWANSEA:

-> Another lover boy. This time, it's even more romantic.

-> Sucker for plain, vanilla sex. I don't think he could do many rounds at once, either. He's not in his prime anymore (and feels quite bad about it). He loves you though, and tries his best to meet your needs. Expect lots of foreplay. Your pleasure comes before his own, time and time again.

-> Swansea is more than happy to give you oral for hours. He still wants you to feel satisfied, even with his less-than-stellar stamina. You're the best thing he's tasted, perhaps better than his cooking!

-> With that, I think he'd be a fan of overstimulating you. He's happy to know you feel good, and wants you to feel your best! Swansea is more than delighted to make you cum over and over again, even before having penetrative sex.

-> He's good with his hands, too. This old man was able to rack up a lot of experience, you know.

-> If you're someone with a high sex drive, he'll do his best to meet your needs. Don't mind the flush on his cheeks, he's just not used to it. Same with people who are into more intense kinks - he's happy to please but you might have to guide him.

-> However, harming you is a no-go for him. Degradation is something he's hesitant about and outright violent kinks are ones he wouldn't go so far in exploring.

[littlepeach-world]

Hear me out on this oneshot... 🎾🎾

In-ho and his wife has a child together *about 3 years old now* that ran off while at the island during the games and the guards along with In-ho are running all over the place looking for him and then find him inside of a game room that's already been played and empty, but still dangerous!! Toddlers always sneak away, i know mine does😂

Echoes of Fear

Pairing: Frontman/Hwang In-Ho x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Warnings: Husband!Inho, Protective!Inho, Dad!Inho, Pregnant!Wifereader, Pregnancy-Related Stress, Child going missing, Parental Anxiety, Emotional Distress, Threats of Violence, Guilt and Self-Blame, Reference to Bereavement.

Word count: 1.3k

You just returned to your desk after putting Jaehyun down for his nap, feeling exhausted but determined to finish the work that had been piling up. Being seven months pregnant was taking its toll, making you more fatigued than ever. Inho, your caring and protective husband, constantly fretted about your well-being. He didn't even want you to work or do anything at all besides staying in bed all day. His concerns for your safety, Jaehyun's, and that of the baby were genuine and heartfelt, often leading to gentle arguments about your need to stay busy. He would lovingly remind you, "Your health, Jaehyun's health, and our baby's health come first, always."

Yet, bed rotting isn't your thing; you liked to stay busy. After a few hours of tackling your work, you decide it's time to check on Jaehyun, who should be fast asleep from his nap. The thought of seeing his peaceful face is a welcome break from the stress of the day.

However, when you enter his room, it is empty. Confusion hits you immediately, a wave of unease washing over you. "Jaehyun?" you call out, your voice echoing through the house. The silence is deafening, and a sense of foreboding begins to creep in.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm as you start searching the neighboring rooms. Each empty room you enter heightens your anxiety, but you try to maintain a semblance of composure.

Your serenity is shattered when you run into June, the nanny, who is pacing nervously in the hallway. Her usually neat appearance is disheveled, and her face is etched with worry.

"June, have you seen Jaehyun?" you ask, attempting to keep your voice steady.

She looks up, her expression filled with guilt and fear. "Jaehyun ran off, and I can't find him," she admits, voice trembling.

Your heart stops, a surge of panic flooding your system. "What! What do you mean you can’t find him? Where did he go?" you demand, your voice rising.

June stammers, trying to explain, but her words blur into an incoherent buzz. Your mind goes blank, your focus narrowing to a sharp point: finding Jaehyun and informing your husband, Inho. Instinctively, you reach for your phone, your hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Stay here and keep looking. I'll call Inho," you manage to instruct June, though your voice cracks with desperation.

You frantically dial Inho's number, the phone feeling slippery in your sweaty grip. Each ring amplifies your anxiety until he finally answers.

"Inho," you say, your voice on the edge of hysteria, "Jaehyun's missing! He's gone!" The words tumble out in a frantic rush.

Inho's calm façade shatters upon hearing the distressing news. The lines in his face deepen with worry, and his usual steady demeanor falters. Yet, somehow, he manages to regain enough composure to soothe your hysteria and urges you to recount every detail as he makes his way toward home. His mind races consumed by the sheer terror of losing Jaehyun.

By the time Inho arrives, he is a man on the edge, but the sight of your tear-streaked face nearly breaks him. He pulls you into a fierce embrace, his voice a soft murmur of comforting words. "We'll find him. I promise," he whispers into your hair, holding you as tightly as he dares.

Despite his own crippling fear, Inho maintains a composed exterior. He knows that he must be the pillar of strength for both you and the situation at hand. Gathering himself quickly, he turns to June, his eyes narrowing with a sharp intensity.

"How could you be so careless?" he snaps, his voice as cold and cutting as a blade. "I swear, if something happens to our son, it won’t just be you I'll deal with—it will be everyone you ever loved, anyone you’ve ever laid eyes on."

Your tears falling freely, you grab his arm gently, interrupting his tirade. "Inho, please," you plead softly. "Threatening her won’t bring Jaehyun back."

Inho takes a deep breath, locking eyes with you, understanding the profound truth in your words. His shoulders slump slightly as he nods, his rage giving way to helplessness for a moment. "I have guards searching the island, Y/N. We will find him. I promise," he vows, tightening his protective grip on you. He places one hand tenderly on your pregnant belly, the gesture meant to ground both of you.

"Breathe, please. For our baby," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your overwrought nerves.

You nod, clinging to him like a lifeline amid the tumultuous sea of your emotions. "You’ll bring him home," you say, your voice tinged with both hope and desperation, more as an affirmation than a question.

"I will," Inho reassures, his voice imbued with determination and a fierce resolve. Leaving you in the care of another trusted aide, he steps back, giving one last reassuring squeeze to your hand before joining the search.

As Inho rushes out to find Jaehyun, his mind is consumed with guilt. He berates himself for being a bad father, too busy with work to spend time with his child. The pain of losing his first wife is still fresh, and the mere thought of losing another loved one is unbearable.

"Why didn't I spend more time with him?" he mutters under his breath, running his hands through his hair in frustration. Memories of Jaehyun's laughter and your gentle smile flood his thoughts, intensifying his sense of urgency.

Frantically searching the building, calling out Jaehyun’s name, Inho's panic escalates with each empty room. His heart races, and his breaths come in short, desperate gasps. Just as he's thinking the worst, his walkie-talkie crackles to life—it's a call from a guard.

“Frontman,” says the guard, his voice slightly nervous, “I believe I know where your son is. He was seen heading towards the old game room. Stage 7.”

Without wasting a second, Inho sprints to the game room, dread and hope battling within him. He presses the button on his walkie-talkie and speaks in a cold, deadly voice, “If anyone hurts my child, there will be dire consequences.”

Approaching the room, Inho pushes open the door without hesitation. The familiar setup catches his eye immediately—it's the same room used for playing "Dalgona." His eyes scan the room desperately, and finally, he sees him— your son, Jaehyun, sitting in a corner, happily nibbling on a piece of Dalgona.

“Jaehyun!” Inho calls out, his voice a mixture of relief and authority.

Jaehyun looks up, startled and scared, his eyes widening in confusion. It dawns on Inho that he's still wearing the Front Man mask, which his son has never seen before.

Hastily, Inho removes the mask, revealing his face. “Jaehyun-ah, it’s appa,” he says, his voice softening.

Jaehyun's fear melts into recognition and then into a wide, delighted smile. “Appa!” he exclaims, jumping up and running into Inho’s open arms.

Relief washes over Inho as he holds Jaehyun tight, the weight of his fears dissolving in the warmth of the embrace. Tears of gratitude and overwhelming love sting his eyes as he showers his son with kisses.

“Never run off like that again,” Inho says, his voice gentle but firm. “Eomma and I were so worried.”

Jaehyun looks up, his small hand reaching out to wipe away Inho's tears. “Appa, no cry,” he says, his voice filled with innocence.

Surprised by his own tears, Inho chuckles softly, “Appa's okay. I love you so much."

“wuv you too,” Jaehyun responds, tightening his little arms around Inho's neck.

Inho's heart swells with love and relief. He puts his mask back on, knowing he must return to his role but grateful for this precious moment. He picks up Jaehyun, carrying him out of the game room.

As they head home, Inho thinks of you waiting for them, and he feels a profound sense of gratitude. Holding Jaehyun close, he carries the warmth of their reunion with him, vowing to cherish every moment with his family from now on.

[ariadne-mouse]

I keep coming back to like, if the entire point of Ludinus & BH's plan here was only to prevent a second mass destruction event like Calamity - the gods being too big to fight with each other without mass collateral damage, and having the ability to wipe out a city like Aeor - then I could see there being a logic in "the gods gotta go, one way or another", setting aside the possibility of mortals to once more develop that same power as Aeor did in the Malleus Factorum, and notably, that we don't know if the BH Third Option will be an effective de-powering of the gods themselves in perpetuity, since it's unclear what will happen to their divinity, how permanent the transformation would be, or what Predathos might do (stay as a presence in a Vessel as insurance? be released and stay on its own? be released and go, taking the threat against the gods with it?). But again, setting all that aside, I can see the logic of looking at the Calamity and going "we must prevent this from recurring at all costs", and not trusting that the gods will never reach the unanimity break the divine gate, and the story digging into the ethics of ends and means. Sorry, gods, you're just too big to be here - shrink or GTFO. (Note if this is the case, this would/should also apply to the Titans if they were still in play, as they have the same widescale destructive capacity.)

But Ludinus and BH also heavily cite more day-to-day systemic oppressions and inequalities among the world of mortals, perpetrated *by* mortals. The power of temples, the intrusion of worshippers on communities like Hearthdell, and otherwise the presence of gods-based religion in all facets of life creating unequal outcomes. Now, I tend to agree with meta positing that we didn't get a strong narrative of gods-based religion being the hegemonic power in Exandria, only that, like other power structures from, say, governments - it exists and can be used for good or ill, with disagreements about what "good" and "ill" are. But Ludinus certainly wasn't spending any time trying to make the Empire's government more agnostic or materially improve the lives of the common people there or anywhere else, despite his vast influence (and he maintained allies like Ikithon, whose idea of a youth enrichment program was the Volstruckers). Critically, the idea that his or BH's plan will effect systemic mortal change hinges on the gods' fate changing the power of their followers, who comprise the presence of gods-based religion on Exandria itself, and these situations where inequality is indicated.

However, we also don't yet know exactly how the gods taking any of the 3 choices - become mortal, run, be eaten - will materially effect divine power that is wielded by mortals. Maybe it will change, maybe it will diminish either permanently or temporarily, maybe it will be the same with the rationale it is powered by mortal faith as opposed to some intrinsic god-stuff. We just don't know yet. Moreover, even if the powers vanished, the faith and the associated sociopolitical structures might remain. It feels like a gap in logic to me which weakens the conviction of the road BH are taking now, and tempers the triumph that this is the "best" solution, because it's still unclear how it addresses the actual problem statement of "no more Calamity AND no more inequality among mortals from gods-religion".

One aspect I didn't touch upon above is that of answering prayers and granting boons, which sort of sits in the middle between the gods' own power and what mortals wield, and is part of the tapestry of the gods' influence in mortal life. Ludinus's plan to kill the gods did follow that any sort of "favoritism" would no longer be in play, but the BH Third Option is less clear on that. It is certainly possible that the gods will become unable to answer any prayer or grant any boon in the same fashion they might have before, and this would very literally remove the issue of "unequally answered prayers" for a measure of that concept: all phone lines are down, no one gets to make a call. But neither Ludinus's plan nor BH's would necessarily solve situations like Bor'dor's, where his mother took on the punishment intended for him believing that her faith in Melora would protect her - or at least would not be a linear "this kind of thing definitely won't happen anymore" because mothers protecting their children and faith in optimal outcomes are not solely the providence of religion, nor is imperfect access to power and safety. The kid Bor'dor accidentally harmed was rich, and this informed the severity of the punishment/lack of forgiveness - there is a very local class struggle aspect there which the gods played no part in, and which their removal would not prevent.

The BH Third Option may be appealing in its potential bloodlessness, but it's also so recent and zoomed out that BH themselves haven't fully revisited what more specific problems they are actually trying to solve, and the story on the way there hasn't scaffolded sufficiently to make it clear. Perhaps there is a narrative to be told in BH taking action despite uncertainty - "we don't know that this will change anything or everything but we have to try" - but that is still weakened by the insufficient exploration of religious hegemony in everyday life, and in BH themselves not solidifying their trajectory of intent earlier (in either direction!) even if their means were uncertain. Like, there is absolutely a version of this whole thing which could have better supported the rationale to shake the etch-a-sketch, whether framing it as "right" or "justified" or even just "logical" from a character-driven arc perspective, but just that's not quite what we've gotten, nor does it seem to be explicitly about about making a desperate and imperfect choice. It's somewhere in the muddy middle.

Anyway, I find it interesting to try and follow these throughlines - and very eager to see what happens next, because it will help define some of these ramifications more clearly, which will absolutely make for a fascinating end of C3 and C4 world state whatever they are. I'm here for it! I'm also still enjoying the show, enjoy BH as characters, etc, all of that, if that need be stated. I will say - this is all certainly taking a chance and rolling the dice!

[flamnhotlemon]

Pearls In The Essence '25

Episode 1: Growing in the Essence, An Introduction

1.1: The Meaning and The Inspiration

"Pearl in the essence (expression): A metaphorical expression signifying the pursuit of inner beauty, wisdom and intelligence. Refers to the desire to embody and grow the most valuable and refined qualities of oneself, like to the formation of a pearl, which grows into something precious from within a shell."

That's what a pearl in the essence means to me. I found it during a tough time while reading the lyrics of 'Girls Never Die' by TripleS:

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ "Don't need all those excuses ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎Wanna be the pearls in the essence ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎Let me dream even bigger now ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‎‎These pains and trials make a better me"

That's when I decided I wanted to become the pearl in my own essence, to become better, more refined, more polished, well-spoken. No longer letting anything get to me, no longer holding on to the bitterness of the years past or the easy path of procrastinating. I decided it's time to grow out of the confinements of my shell and move on to a bigger ocean.

And so can you.

1.2: The Objectives

To preface this section, I want to say that although we may all have the same common goal, there will be little variations in ideals and goals here and there, which is perfectly normal! This will ensure that we're all aiming for something that applies to each of us individually and our own personal journeys. There will be times when I document my progress and what I'm doing, but that is not intended to force you to do the same, it's just a simple encouragement.

The general goals are to become a more refined, polished, intelligent, productive and well-spoken versions of ourselves. These ideas will vary from person to person, but the main goals and tips shared in the posts will typically be universal.

Each goal has been put into a category starting with the letter P in order to make it a lot more memorable and fun.

So, what does each main goal entail? (The P's)

Polished and Proper - How we are at home and around others

Practicing good manners and social behavior (speaking properly, saying 'please' and 'thank you') and keeping a gratitude journal (being thankful of all progress, big or small), talking slower and choosing kinder language over harsh words.

Perceptive - What we know about topics

Weekly reading (articles, books, blogs etc.), finding a topic to that piques interest and journalling on it. Taking mini courses (if possible) or watching YouTube videos on new topics.

Presentation - How we look and feel

Maintaining (or creating) a skincare routine, taking care of health and wellbeing (mental and physical), good sleep and actually setting resting time aside.

Productivity - How we are in work, school and the things we do

Daily morning journalling to plan out the day, time blocking or scheduling and weekly and monthly evaluation/'stock taking'.

1.3: Closing Notes

That's all that you need to know for now! Hopefully, the posts will be coming out every week or every two weeks (based on how busy my schedule gets), but I will try my best to make sure that the posts are on time.

In addition, in the upcoming posts, there will be a PDF version/workbook + some journalling prompts, so watch out for those!

X's and O's, Elle.

(Disclaimer: This challenge has no time limit because each person has their own situations and schedules. Posts are weekly or bi-weekly to ensure that everyone can see the general direction, but it is not a guide on how fast to go through each stage.)

[danicareadssmut]

Storm Surge

The storm rolls in from the sea like a living thing, dark clouds swallowing the horizon as you make your way up the winding path to Rafayel's mansion. The wind carries salt and electricity, whipping your hair around your face as thunder growls in the distance.

It feels fitting, somehow. The last time you saw him, power had crackled through the air just like this—ancient and devastating as the Tome of the Sea God awakened something in him that had slumbered for centuries.

You still see it when you close your eyes: Rafayel's magic pushing down on you in the boat's hull, eyes blazing with godlike power as he called you traitor. The way his hand had closed around your throat, centuries of pain and betrayal burning in his gaze.

But you're not here about that. You're here to thank him for submitting those crucial findings under your name, for protecting your position at Command even after everything that happened at Jewel Reef.

He's drawing when you enter his main studio space, a news report on the TV in the background. News about what happened at Jewel Reef has circulated to the mainland, but what really went down there has been kept a secret.

…Many guests have gone missing from the island. Their current whereabouts remain unknown.

"They're in the blue hole," you murmur to yourself.

"It's possible," Rafayel replies with a dark chuckle. You didn't even know he was aware of your presence.

"They're from Ever."

"I'm aware. If their pursuit of treasure led to them receiving what they deserve, then that's between them and the sea," Rafayel says, not looking up from his sketch. His hand moves in fluid strokes across the paper, and you catch glimpses of waves and ruins before he shifts, blocking your view.

Lightning flashes outside, illuminating the studio in stark relief. "You shouldn't be here, Mikki."

"I needed to thank you. For covering for me with Command."

His laugh is bitter. "Is that what you think I did?" Finally, he looks up, and the intensity in those sea-glass eyes makes you catch your breath. "I didn't do it for you."

Thunder crashes closer now, and the rain begins in earnest, pelting against the massive windows. You take a step closer, and his power ripples through the air in warning.

"Then why?"

"Because despite everything, I'm going to keep protecting you from the people who want what's inside of you." His voice drops lower, dangerous. "The gift you were given."

"Rafayel—"

"Don't." He stands in one fluid motion, his height making you tilt your head back to maintain eye contact. "Don't say my name like that. Like you care."

"I do care."

"Now, perhaps." He moves closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off him, smell the ocean on his skin. "But you didn't then. You made a promise, Mikki. One day each year, that's all I asked for. To meet me by the sea."

"I don't remember making that promise," you whisper, and his expression tightens with pain.

"No," he says roughly. "You wouldn't. Death has a way of erasing such things, doesn't it?"

"What do you mean, 'death'? I got a fever and fell into a coma for a few days. When I woke up, I couldn't remember anything from before. I didn't die."

Rafayel shakes his head as if trying to clear something from his mind. He looks lost. Another crack of thunder, and suddenly he's too close, backing you against his drafting table. "Do you want to know what it was like?" His voice is silk over steel. "Waiting there, year after year, watching the horizon for a glimpse of you?"

Your heart pounds against your ribs. "Rafayel, please—"

"I said," his hand slides into your hair, tilting your head back sharply, "don't say my name like that."

His mouth crashes into yours before you can respond, hungry and demanding. His power wraps around you both, tasting of salt and storm surge, and when you gasp, he takes advantage, deepening the kiss until you're dizzy with need.

"This is a terrible idea," you manage when he finally pulls back.

His smile is sharp as a shark's. "Most things involving you are." His other hand finds your hip, pulling you flush against him. "But that's never stopped us before, has it?"

His lips find yours again, and this time there's no hesitation. He kisses like a drowning man finding air, like he's trying to draw out the memories the past stole from you. His power surges around you both, carrying the wild energy of the storm outside. Just like in the blue hole, glimpses of memories flash through your mind, but they're too nebulous, too ephemeral to grasp.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs against your throat, but his hands are already sliding under your shirt, leaving trails of fire on your skin. "Tell me this isn't what you came here for."

You should. You know you should. But when his teeth graze your pulse point, all you can do is arch into him with a gasp.

"That's what I thought," he says darkly, and suddenly you're lifted onto his drafting table, his body pressing between your thighs. Papers scatter to the floor—sketches of waves and ruins and things you don't quite understand.

His mouth claims yours again as his hands make quick work of your clothes. Every touch feels charged with power, with need, with centuries of longing you don't remember but your body seems to recognize.

"Beautiful," he breathes, pulling back to look at you. Lightning flashes outside, illuminating the hunger in his sea-glass eyes. The magenta is shot through with electric blue and your heart pounds in your chest as you remember the night on the boat. "Do you have any idea how much I've missed this? How many times I've dreamed of this? Having you here, at my mercy?"

His power wraps around you like silk, like ocean currents, holding you in place as his mouth trails down your body. When he reaches your breasts, a soft whimper falls from your lips, and his answering growl vibrates through you.

"I've missed those sounds," he says against your skin. "The way you come apart for me."

"Rafayel—"

His power tightens around you in warning. "What did I say about my name?"

Thunder crashes as his mouth claims yours again, silencing whatever protest you might have made. His power coils around you like waves, pulling you under until you're drowning in sensation. The storm outside mirrors the tempest between you—wild, dangerous, impossible to resist.

"If you say my name again," he warns, voice rough with need, "I won't be gentle."

The threat sends heat pooling between your thighs. His hands slide down your sides, possessive and demanding, as his mouth follows a burning path down your throat, your chest, your stomach. Each touch feels like electricity, like the spark of memories just out of reach.

When he drops to his knees before you, looking up with those otherworldly eyes, your breath catches. The magenta and electric blue swirl together like bioluminescence in deep water, hypnotic and dangerous.

"I remember how you taste," he murmurs against your inner thigh. "How you sound when you fall apart." His power holds you open for him, and when his tongue finds your center, you cry out. "That's it, love. Let me hear you."

Your fingers tangle in his deep purple hair as pleasure builds like a tidal wave. His tongue and fingers work in perfect harmony, drawing sounds from you that echo off the studio walls. Outside, the storm rages harder, as if responding to his power, to the electricity building between you.

"So good for me," he murmurs, pulling back. His thumb finds your clit as he looks up at you, the intensity in his eyes sending a thrill of fear and anticipation down your spine. "I'm going to watch you come. I'm going to feel it on my tongue, and then I'm going to fuck you until you remember all the pain you put me through."

"I didn't—"

His power tightens, stealing the words from your throat. "You did. Now be a good girl and let me taste you."

When his mouth finds your clit again, his thumb thrusts into you and pleasure shatters through you like a gunshot. He works you through your orgasm, not stopping until you're overstimulated and your whimpers turn to cries. Only then does he stand, looking down at you.

"There she is," he murmurs. His thumb swipes his lower lip, collecting the last bit of your pleasure before he sucks it clean.

"Please," you gasp, not even sure what you're begging for.

He looks up at you through hooded eyes, and the raw hunger there makes you shiver. "Please what?"

"I need..." You can't finish the thought as his tongue flicks across his lip again, reminding you of every sinful thing his mouth is capable of. You whimper as you stare up into his rageful eyes.

"What do you need?" His voice is dark velvet, dangerous and seductive. "Tell me."

"You," you gasp. "I need you."

Something flashes in his eyes—triumph, hunger, and beneath it all, an ancient pain. He leans forward, bracing one arm against the wall behind you and caging you with his body as his presence keeps you pinned. "Look at me."

You do, and the intensity in his gaze steals your breath. The storm rages outside, lightning casting shadows across his perfect features as rain lashes against the windows.

"You had me before," he says roughly, his fingers trailing fire down your body. "You had all of me. And then you left."

Before you can respond, his teeth descend on your shoulder where it meets your neck, desperate and demanding as if he's trying to keep himself from falling off some great precipice. The rest of the clothes between you vanish with a pulse of heat, and when his skin meets yours, it feels like diving into deep water—overwhelming, all-consuming.

"But this time," he growls as his lips find yours, positioning himself at your entrance, "I'm not letting you go."

He enters you in one powerful thrust, and your cry of pleasure is swallowed by thunder. His power wraps around you both like ocean currents, drawing you deeper, making you feel things you shouldn't remember but somehow do. He fucks you like a man possessed, as if every second that passes is a second he's spent alone, waiting for you. As if the last year that you've been together hasn't even happened.

"Rafayel, please," you gasp, not even caring about his warning as pleasure builds inside of you like a gathering storm.

"Fuck," he snarls, but his pace doesn't falter, his body slamming into yours again and again. "Why do you say it like that," he moans.

"Like what," you ask breathlessly.

"Like you love me."

"Because I do, Rafayel. I do love you."

"Lies," he hisses and there's more of the blue than magenta showing in his eyes as he looks at you under his fringe of purple hair.

"Look at me," he demands, one hand cupping your face while the other grips your hip hard enough to bruise. "I want to see your eyes when you come apart."

You do, drowning in the swirling colors of his gaze. There's something devastating in the way he watches you—like he's trying to memorize every detail, like he's already mourning your inevitable loss.

"I'm here," you whisper, and his power pulses around you, heavy with emotion. "I'm right here."

A sound tears from his throat, something between a growl and a sob. His forehead presses against yours as his movements become more desperate, more primal. "For now."

Lightning flashes again, and in that brief, brilliant moment, you swear you see something else in his eyes—ancient and powerful and heartbreakingly lonely. The god he used to be, the one who waited by the sea, year after year, for a love that never returned.

"Come for me," he commands, his voice rough with need. "Let me feel you."

His power wraps around your core, and when his fingers find your clit, pleasure crashes through you with terrifying and devastating fury. You cry out his name as you shatter, and this time he doesn't punish you for it—he just captures the sound with his mouth, swallowing your moans as if they're precious.

"Beautiful," he breathes against your lips. "So fucking beautiful."

"Rafayel—"

His mouth cuts off your words, claiming yours with a kiss so hungry, so desperate, it's as if he's trying to crawl into your very soul. Pleasure still pulses through you, but the intensity of his need makes you dizzy.

"I've never loved anything," he gasps, pulling back to look at you. There are tears in his eyes and the sight nearly breaks your heart. "Never wanted anything. Until I met you."

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him back to you. "Then stop fighting this," you murmur.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot on your skin. "You were supposed to be different. You were supposed to stay."

"I'm here."

His movements are frantic, the storm raging outside reflecting his frenzied energy.

"Promise me," he snarls.

"What—"

"Promise me. That you'll stay."

"I can't—"

He pulls back, eyes flashing with hurt. His hand tightens around your throat.

"Yes, you can. And you will." His hips slam into yours, each thrust threatening to push the drafting table across the room.

"Rafayel."

"No. Don't say my name."

"Why?"

"Because I'm about to break, Mikki. Because I made a promise to the Tome and I can't take it back." His grip tightens, and the ancient, godly power radiating off him threatens to overwhelm you.

"Then break," you whisper, and something in him shatters.

His power explodes around you both, raw and ancient and devastating. The storm outside reaches a fever pitch, waves crashing against the cliffs as thunder shakes the mansion to its foundations. His thrusts become almost violent, each one driving deeper than the last, as if he's trying to carve himself into your very being.

"You don't understand what you're asking for," he growls, but his voice cracks with emotion. His breaths are shallow and pained and his eyes are clenched shut with agony and ecstasy as it rages through him with his nearing release. "What I could do to you."

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. "Show me."

His control snaps completely. The hand around your throat tightens as his other arm wraps around your waist, lifting you off the drafting table. In an instant, you're pressed against the rain-lashed windows, the storm raging behind you as he takes you with renewed desperation.

"Is this what you want?" His voice is barely human now, resonating with power that makes your bones vibrate. "To be fucked by a god?"

"I want you," you gasp. "All of you. Whatever that means."

He makes a sound like breaking glass, his power surging through you both. Images flash through your mind—memories, perhaps, or echoes of them: standing by a stormy sea, waiting; his hands on your skin under starlit waves; promises whispered in languages long forgotten.

"Mine," he snarls, and you feel his release building, his power crackling like lightning between you. "Say it. Tell me you're mine."

"I'm yours," you breathe, and the words feel like truth, like destiny. "I've always been yours."

Something ancient and powerful resonates between you, and suddenly you're drowning in sensation. His power crashes through you like a tsunami, memories flickering at the edges of your consciousness—salt-kissed skin, whispered promises, love so deep it transcends death itself.

"Mikki," he groans, and your name sounds like worship on his lips. His thrusts become erratic, desperate, a storm raging in front of you and behind you at the same time. "I can't—I need—"

"Let go," you whisper, cradling his face in your hands. "I've got you."

He comes with a roar that shakes the windows, his power exploding outward like a supernova. The force of it triggers your own release, more intense than anything you've ever felt. For a moment, you swear you see him as he truly is—beautiful and terrible, a god of storms and seas, ancient and powerful and utterly yours.

Lightning strikes somewhere close, and in its brilliant flash, you see tears on his cheeks.

"Don't cry," you whisper, brushing them away with trembling fingers. "Please don't cry."

He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm that feels like goodbye. "I'm not crying for what we are," he says softly. "I'm crying for what we could have been."

The storm continues long into the night, making the roads too dangerous to navigate. At least, that's the excuse you both use when he leads you to his bedroom, when his mouth finds yours again in the darkness. You lose count of how many times he takes you, each time more desperate than the last, as if he's trying to burn the memory of you into his skin.

You fall asleep sometime in the early hours, exhausted and sated, his burning touch still ghosting across your skin.

***

Dawn hasn't yet broken when Rafayel stirs beside your sleeping form. The room is oddly cold despite his natural heat, and frost begins to creep across the windows—unnatural in the coastal summer air. He knows what it means. Who it means.

His fingers brush a strand of hair from your face, memorizing the peaceful expression you wear in sleep. The note he's written sits heavy on the bedside table, words he couldn't bring himself to say aloud:

I'm sorry. For everything I've done. Everything I'm about to do.

The temperature drops further as footsteps echo in the hallway. Rafayel rises, pulling on his clothes with practiced ease. When the bedroom door opens, he's already facing it.

"Zayne." The name comes out like a challenge.

The doctor stands in the doorway, power rolling off him in arctic waves. His usually warm green eyes are sharp with warning as they flick between Rafayel and Mikki's sleeping form.

"The Sea God's power," Zayne says quietly, deadly. "I felt it from across the city."

"She's unharmed." Rafayel's voice is low, careful not to wake you. Flames dance between his fingers—a warning of his own.

"For now." Frost spreads from where Zayne's hand rests on the doorframe. "But we both know what the Tome demands. What it will make you become."

Rafayel's jaw clenches. "You're not her keeper, Foreseer. Or is this the power of Dawnbreaker come to exact his vigilante justice on me?"

Zayne stiffens, ice crackling along the walls. "Don't speak that name."

"Hit a nerve, did I?" Rafayel's flames burn brighter, but there's understanding in his eyes. "Those nightmares getting worse?"

"You know nothing of my nightmares."

"Don't I?" Rafayel's gaze returns to your sleeping form. "We all carry our own versions of hell, doctor. At least yours hasn't come to pass. Yet."

The temperature plummets further, frost patterns spreading across the floor like fractals. "Is that what this is? Running away before you become the monster the Tome wants?"

"Better than becoming the monster you fear." Rafayel's words cut deep, and Zayne's power flares in response. "A world without her love, hunting down the corrupted, alone until the end of time. Tell me, how many times have you woken up screaming from that future?"

"Enough." Ice crystals form in the air between them, sharp as knives. "This isn't about me. The Tome is changing you. I can feel it."

On the bed, you shift again, drawing both men's attention. The raw longing on their faces mirrors each other—two immortal beings, both destined to lose you in different ways.

"Xavier's running out of time," Rafayel says quietly. "The Lightseeker's power is fading. Soon he won't be able to protect her at all."

"And Caleb?" Frost creeps across the ceiling. "That chip Ever put in him is changing him faster than the Tome is changing you."

"The Colonel." Rafayel's lip curls. "His gravity manipulation is getting stronger. More unstable. If he loses control—"

"When," Zayne corrects. "Not if. We both know what Ever's endgame is."

They share a look of grim understanding. Four immortal beings, each losing themselves in different ways, all orbiting around your sleeping form like dying stars.

"Keep her away from Skyhaven," Rafayel says. "Whatever Caleb becomes... she can't be there to witness it."

"Bold of you to assume she'll listen to any of us." The ice recedes slightly as Zayne's expression softens. "She never has before."

"Then we're all damned," Rafayel murmurs, looking one last time at your peaceful face. "Some of us just faster than others."

Dawn's first light begins to creep through the frost-covered windows. The sea calls louder now, pulling at something dark inside Rafayel's chest.

"It's time," he says.

Zayne steps aside, letting him pass. But at the doorway, he catches Rafayel's arm. "When the Tome finally takes you," his voice is quiet but firm, "I won't hesitate."

Rafayel's answering smile is sharp as broken glass. "I'm counting on it, Doctor."

The room falls silent as Rafayel disappears down the hallway, his footsteps fading like the last echoes of summer. The frost begins to thaw, water droplets sliding down the windows as the first rays of dawn reach like fingers from behind the horizon to paint the sky in shades of grief.

Zayne moves to the bedside table, picking up the note Rafayel left. His fingers trace the words, ice crystallizing along the edges of the paper before he sets it back down. He looks at your sleeping form one last time, allowing himself a moment of weakness as he brushes a strand of hair from your face.

"Sleep well, my love," he says, his deep dulcimer voice a whisper over your skin. "The monsters will wait until morning."

He's gone before the sun fully rises, leaving nothing but melting frost and the weight of unspoken warnings in his wake. On the bedside table, Rafayel's note sits innocent and devastating, waiting to break your heart when you wake.

The sea crashes against the cliffs below, calling its god home.

[flightfoot]

Do you have any good fic recs on Ladynoir. Them just hanging out or being angsty? They don’t have to be long either

Hopefully these fic recs work out for you!

Veritas by writer_slk

The latest akumatized villain is filling the mouths of its victims with criticisms and complaints. If left unchecked, every relationship in Paris will be put at risk. While Ladybug and Chat Noir are trying to stop the villain, Ladybug learns something about her partner that she didn’t want to know and then says something she didn’t mean to say.

---

Imaginary Friend by Engineerd

Alya went back to typing on her screen. “You’re right,” she agreed. “All that pressure? No wonder Ladybug made herself a boyfriend.” “Chat Noir is not her boyfriend,” Marinette scoffed. In which Ladybug summons Chat Noir as her lucky charm one day. (She keeps summoning him.)

---

The Son of my Enemy by Saccha

Cat Noir never wanted to be a villain, but he doesn't have a choice. Ladybug wishes she could save him. A reverse love square, villain!Cat Noir AU.

---

you deserve to be loved and you deserve what you are given by thescuttlebug

Marinette is terrified, suddenly. She’s not like this. She’s not this kind of alpha, to get her head turned by any pretty pheromones she trips over. She’s not--she’s not disloyal, she’s not inconstant. Chat smells like moonlight, like the sudden shock of night air and the terrifying rush of leaping out into the empty dark, like deserted city sidewalks and unfamiliar corners: something midnight-metallic, something strange, something wild. Nothing like Adrien. Not a single note in common. She’s not like this. She’s not like this. He smells-- He smells-- “Ladybug,” Chat croaks, still staring at her. He smells stray.

---

Evergreen by tanyatakaishi

Everything was gone. The entire cityscape had been obliterated, leaving them in a valley of trees. Blue mountains, peaks dressed in snow, stretched tall in the distance and at their foot lay an array of vineyards, miles wide with no civilization in sight. AKA: two heroes lost alone in the woods with no cheese.

---

As the dust settles by Pengirl91

After Ladybug lost everything and yet her partner stood by her, she realized what she had been trying to lie to herself about for months. She is undoubtedly in love with him. The only problem is that she's terrified of what that could lead to and there's a monumental task ahead of them before it might be safe to act on her feelings for him... more than she already has. Post Strike Back with my hopes, wishes, and predictions for season 5 as I wait with great impatience. Now complete.

The meat of this story is mostly a SentiAdrien fic. Adrien discovers that Gabriel is Hawkmoth, so Gabriel orders him to stay silent about what he found out, as well as giving orders to help him with plans to obtain the Miraculous he needs. Luckily, he doesn’t know that Adrien is Chat Noir...

---

I (Wish I) Knew You by @buggachat

University has been hard on Marinette. Making new friends and maintaining her grades is a lot easier said than done when she has to disappear at odd times to fight akumas. She's struggling, and with Alya away with family and Adrien painfully out of reach, she's never felt lonelier. If only she could talk to someone who really understood her struggles... but it's not like Chat Noir would know anything about loneliness. Right?

Nice aged-up Ladynoir fic here! Marinette’s struggling with losing friends and lovers because of her flakiness due to her superhero activities, until at last she breaks down. Thankfully, Chat Noir’s there at least - and it soon turns out he’s got problems of his own that he’s been hiding.

There’s some fluff and angst, it’s mostly just the two of them navigating life, dealing with their feelings and talking things out.

---

To Have Loved by @trishacollins

Adrien struggles with the loss of children he never had, with a life he remembers living but that wasn't real. The only person who understands him is Ladybug, his wife and his children's mother. Sleeping alone is such an empty feeling. Together, they might make a start at healing. Or they might just make a new disaster.

I love Jubilation angst. Depending on how "real" that timeline felt, waking up could be devastating - and Chat WAS certainly devastated in that episode. It's akin to the Pevensie kids in Narnia growing up, becoming rulers, and then tumbling out of the wardrobe a couple decades later, the same age at which they left. Of course Ladybug and Chat Noir would cling to each other afterwards, the only other person who remembers that imaginary timeline.

That's not all this story entails, however. Gabriel isn't too happy about Adrien sneaking out as much as he has been, and he WILL get answers, one way or another...

---

in which chat noir comes up with an awesome gift for ladybug by @mixelation

If his Lady wants ultra rare Adrien Agreste merch, then that’s what his Lady will get! Written for the Miraculous Ladybug Secret Santa exchange.

This was really sweet and I love how mixelation wrote Adrien's internal narration! You really viscerally understood his thoughts and feelings. It had some of the intimacy of a first person perspective, but well, in third person.

---

Mamma Mia! by @ladynoirfanao3

When Marinette discovers she is pregnant, she is distressed to realize any of the three men she slept with in the recent past could be the father; Chat Noir, Ladybug’s partner and ex with whom she had gone through a tearful breakup - the mysterious Cat Walker, Ladybug’s rebound - or Adrien Agreste, Marinette’s current boyfriend. Bit of a twist on the base concept of Mamma Mia, where she doesn't realize all three potential fathers are, in fact, the same man.

So this is a fun little fic. I loved seeing Adrien and Marinette independently wrestle with the situation - Adrien, with maybe being the father of his former girlfriend's children (but maybe not), and Marinette, with needing to tell her former and current boyfriends that they might or might not be the father, and having to deal with a potential change in their relationship because of that.

Oh yeah, this fic is rated M, but the sexual content is relatively mild. The foreplay is detailed, but the actual sex is just implied.

---

Bend the World Around It by @kasienda

“Tell me it was real." She can’t look at him. She can barely stand the pain in his voice. She definitely can’t face it. “It wasn’t.” He shakes his head, and turns to her - his eyes swirling in their intensity. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. Tell me that you were there. We were there together, having the same dream.” She squeezes her eyes shut. She wants to lie to him. She needs to lie to him. But she can’t. Lying would be like it never happened. But it did happen. And if it’s all they get to have, she wants him to know it. “I think we were having the same dream,” she whispers, unable to meet his eyes.

So this is an adorable Jubilation aftermath fic, with Ladybug and Chat Noir both mourning the loss of what only they remember, of a dream that never was. And them deciding that screw it, it may not have been real to anyone else, but it was real to them. They remember those years together, and they want to live together, if only during the times when they can afford to be missing from home. They remember being happily married, and crave that life.

---

(Drag) Kings And Queens by @entity9silvergen

Marinette sees one of her commissions on drag performer Chat Noir and a friendship is born. If only she could get her girlfriend Adriana to go to one of his performances… Adrien plays with a new side of himself through drag with some help from his new online friend Ladybug. If only his newfound confidence could help him work up the courage to tell his boyfriend Marino about it… Closeted T4T Drag AU based on buggachat’s tumblr post with lots of extra identity shenanigans.

So like entity says, this fic is based on one of @buggachat's tumblr posts.

Though it actually manages to be even MORE queer since both Adrien and Marinette are trans.

It's an utter delight! The drag performances are a treat, and I love the identity shenanigans XD. It's just a lot of fun.

---

Phantom Pains (and other hints of you) by @buggachat

She couldn't remember anything. Not where she was going, where she'd been, why she was in this stairwell, or even her own name. But as she watched the blood pool at the base of the steps, she at least knew one thing for certain: the corpse was hers. Getting used to being dead was going to have its growing pains. — “Well, unlucky lady,” Chat Noir greeted with a bow, “Can I get your name?” “Didn’t we just talk about this? I told you, I don’t remember it.” “And I told you,” he reminded, “that you can just pick whatever fits you best.” — Ladybug and Chat Noir may not remember who they once were, but at least the two lost souls can find comfort in each other's company. But as Ladybug starts uncovering more and more memories of her life, letting the past go doesn't seem as easy as Chat Noir claims it to be.

So this is a beautiful, sweet, tragic love story of two lost souls wandering around with each other, yet with Ladybug still desperately wanting to be found, to remember who she was - and wanting to know why Chat so adamantly wanted to stay amnesiac. It's got some neat worldbuilding, and some fantastic prose. It's just a really nice little story!

[nbmudkip]

rehyperfixating on a children’s game that came out in 2015, is one of the least popular entries in its series, and has minimal content, the vast majority of which i’ve seen before. the series has been dead for nearly 10 years, nothing has happened recently that would warrant anyone’s returning interest in it, very few of my friends give a shit about this specific game, and those few who played and liked it in the past have no reason to give a shit about it at all right now. i have been coasting through on a playthrough i’ve been doing with a friend who’d never seen the game before and who was kind enough to let me show it to them, but we just beat the game, and after we play the epilogue we will have nothing left to do, and on top of that they really have just been humoring me as they have their own very strong current hyperfixation they would much rather be thinking about. also i am depressed enough right now that literally nothing else except for waiting to play this game with them and playing this game with them and watching them enjoy it at least a little has been able to briefly quiet the constant cacophony in my head screaming how much of a worthless, lazy, constantly-failing miserable excuse for a living person i am and how much better everything would be, especially for myself, if i stopped existing lately. would anyone like to volunteer to 🔨💥⚒️Kill Me With Hammers🔨💥⚒️ because i would really like for someone to 🔨💥⚒️Kill Me With Hammers🔨💥⚒️ right now

[wizardnuke]

does anyone know if we have to roll that rock up the hill again tomorrow

[shirogane-oushirou]

☺️: replaced my ipad screen protector (and -- shock and awe -- for the very first time ever i see no bubbles?? and the only piece of dust is on the outer edge away from the active part of the screen?? despite my messing shit up Royally on application??? wild.), so i can draw my beloved again!! and maybe properly explore a pk.mn au!!!

😔: i am Quite Sick this week. lol. lmao. and i've been kind of all-around burnt out socially for a few weeks. i'd like to finally continue playing the otome game i'd been waiting for since like 2020 but havent touched since i got it in Fucking September Holy Shit. I Want To Kiss One Of My Longest Running F/Os. Please. ...so i might actually be around a little less for a while. 👋🏻

[2-kamikou-1]

ok but no guys seriously how do you ask for reassurance in a way that doesn't make you look like a stupid yandere stereotype

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[warrior-of-sunlight]

.

[designernishiki]

I think I’ve said this before on here but. it really baffles and somewhat annoys me sometimes how people hear that a character is in their 40s-50s and immediately assume they should be weak or feeble or less attractive than they are. like. no. i think everyones just been brainwashed to think that attractiveness/health/worth is determined by how young someone is. why is it more understandable to view a teenager as more attractive and capable than a fit 40-50-something year old. kinda wack

[arolesbianism]

Some more team captain ids! This time with the middle layer gang 👍

[wisteryuu]

vent in tags don't mind me

[empresskylo]

ghost knows he’s too rough and impatient with sex. knows he won’t know how to please you properly. knows he can’t possibly do things right with you, knowing you’ve never done this before. but god, he wants to. he wants to treat you how you deserve. never thought he’d be so desperate to fuck someone good and slow like he does with you.

so he goes to price. the one man who will know all the right ways to please a lady properly. asks him to show him how to take care of you. tells him he doesn't know how to care for someone else's needs, at least with someone inexperienced like you. tells him he needs to be instructed. to see just how he should work you.

you’re nervous at first, thinking it’s an absolutely insane idea, but you can’t hide the wetness along your panties as you sit on ghost’s lap, back pressed against his chest, legs spread, his knuckle dragging down your warmth. price sits back in his chair, telling ghost exactly how to move his fingers, paying close attention to your body's minuscule movements, the way your brows furrow when ghost moves a certain way, or your eyelashes fluttering.

and this was supposed to be a strictly hands-off approach… but god, watching ghost fumble, unable to maintain the slow speed you need, keeping you from reaching your orgasm, has price on edge. he leans forward, rolling his chair with him, and tells ghost to stop. tells him to watch and to pay close attention. price tears your panties off and your eyes go wide at the contact. you swallow, expecting ghost to be furious, but his hands only settle around you and he takes notes as he watches his captain work.

price runs his thumb up your slit, circling your nub, and tells ghost to hold your thighs apart when you unconsciously try to clench them. then his finger is sinking into you and your head falls back against ghost's chest, eyes shut. you moan and you feel ghost harden beneath you. “how’s that feel, sweetheart?” price asks you. you babble out incoherently, price adding a second finger, and chuckling darkly at your response.

it becomes too much, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, his other hand rubbing your clit, ghost's fingers digging into the softness of your thighs as he forces them apart. “ohmygod,” you slur, “m’gonna—“ price smirks, his eyes darkening as he watches you orgasm, your body clenching around his fingers shoved deep in your heat. "talk her through it," price tells ghost. so ghost does. you're shaking still and ghost rubs his hands over your exposed skin. "that's it, baby. you're doin' s'good," he praises.

"whata fuckin' sight," price mumbles to himself, his fingers leaving you empty. you steady your breathing, coming down from your high, completely limp in ghost's arms. price can see the way ghost's eyes have gone dark, his pupils swallowing his irises whole. knows ghost doesn't know how to be soft. sees the feral need to ram himself into you overtaking his features. "gonna take it slow with her, yeah?" price asks.

ghost breathes rapidly out, his hips begging to buck up against you. he knows he wouldn't be able to control himself if you let him fuck you. so he answers honestly. "not sure I'd be able to."

price tsks, sitting back in thought, his eyes roving over your spent body. you suddenly feel shy, wanting to close your legs, but ghost's arms tighten on you. "need me t'break her in?" price finally asks after several long beats of silence.

ghost grinds up against you, his hand sliding into your hair and pulling your head to the side so he can kiss your neck. your eyes flutter at his attempts to be so delicate with you. "want the captain here to be your first time, love?" ghost asks against your skin. you stutter when you answer. "don't you want to be?" "course I do. but I won't go easy on ya. I'd hate to ruin you, sweet girl. price will take it nice n' slow. just like you need." and after, you'll be ready to take ghost. ready to adjust to his size.

you swallow hard, ghost's hands escaping and clawing at your clothed chest. you nod. "o-okay."

price stands from his chair and begins to undo his belt. "come sit on my desk, sweetheart."

part two

cod masterlist