#this was not proof read AT ALL

[mikichko]

sukuna’s evil and all but he stutter steps when he hears you ask, “why go beat up innocent civilians when you can beat this pussy up instead?”

like did he hear that right? yuuji’s pretty little girlfriend would never say something like that.

right?

he does a comically slow turn to look at you and you’re just scrolling through your phone, sipping your tea. his eye starts twitching cause, there’s no way.

but he’s gotta make sure.

walks over real slow to the counter you’re sitting at, he’s gotta be real careful not to spook you. just in case y’know.

asks in a low voice, “what was that?”

you don’t even give him the decency of looking at him, just pull a condom from your pocket and slam it on the counter.

“i forgot you’re a little slow when you’re using the head on your dick. brought a visual aid to help you out”

sukuna licks his lips, tapping the little square before a sly grin spreads across his face.

you’re right, after all.

why would he waste his time doing something so primitive when he can make better use of his time to teach you some god damn manners.

[sincerelybubbles]

could you write something where the reader is listening to reid going off on his tangents and when he gets insecure, just straight up saying. "no, go on. i like the sound of your voice." ? ty! 🤍

Don't shut up // no warnings as far as i can tell? lmk if not <3 pure fluff!! ty for the request <333

"They usually called her the Limping Lady but there's really no way to tell how many pseudonyms she used," Spencer is saying, dragging his hand through your hair where you lay on his lap, His other hand is busy grasping at the air while he talks.

"Because of the prosthetic leg?" You ask, urging him to continue talking. You're nearly asleep, eyes heavy and chest loose with the comfort of his proximity.

"Yeah. She actually nicknamed it 'Cuthbert' when she got the wooden prosthetic. It's actually pretty interesting - people have been using prosthetics for a really long time. We don't know exactly when people started using them in modern medicine, but the first evidence we can find of them dates all the way back to ancient Egypt where they found a prosthetic toe."

The documentary Spencer put on over an hour ago about World War II has long since been paused, Netflix's blinking "Are you still watching?" hovering uselessly on his laptop screen. He paused it ages ago to discuss the inaccuracies about Hitler's past, then Italy's involvement in France and the parallels between the almost French famine and the Irish famine, leading him to Virginia Hall.

All in all, you're in heaven. He's been stroking your hair, blunt nails scratching every so often, voice rumbling through his chest and stomach where your ear presses against. He's talking calmly, even, if not slightly rushed, like he can't wait for even a breath to keep telling you about everything he knows.

"I just want you to know all of the things I know, too, you know?" He told you once when you urged him to slow down. He's learned to take his time with you, eventually, realizing that you're not waiting for your opportunity to jump in. You don't spend your time with Spencer figuring out when it'll be your turn to talk next; instead, you lull in the comfortable space of listening while knowing he'll return the favor the moment you have something to say.

"Sorry, are you trying to sleep? I can shut up and turn the movie back on," Spencer says suddenly, hand stilling in your hair.

You open your eyes slightly to find him looking down at you, lip caught between his teeth, a hesitant look in his eyes.

Spencer doesn't often get insecure like this around you - you've spent plenty of time convincing him that there's no need - but moments like this still happen. You suppose it's a natural product of constant teasing and bullying through childhood.

"I don't mean to ramble," he mutters when he catches your eye.

"No," you say, interrupting him and reaching up to brush your fingers across his cheekbone and up to his eyebrows. "No, Spence, I literally love the sound of your voice. Please, keep going."

You watch him melt, afraid for a moment that his liquid brown eyes will start to water. You make a concerned noise, about to sit up and comfort him further, when his hand moves to press down on your collarbones. He holds you in place as he looks at you for a second, heated gaze causing you to feel warm. Slowly, he bends to press a kiss on each of your eyelids, right below your eyebrows. He rests his lips on the bones there for a few moments before moving to the next.

"I love you," he murmurs, the truth of the statement oozing out too sincerely to ignore.

He doesn't give you a moment to breathe before diving right back into his explanation of how ancient prosthetics were integrated into modern medicine, hand resuming its path in your hair and voice slowly bringing you to a calm half-nap.

[plant-dad-sulu]

star trek show that's an anthology series in which every episode is a different recognizable genre but in the context of a canon star trek culture like High School Drama on Vulcan, Police Procedural on Betazed, Breaking Bad on Ferenginar,

[omega-e123]

Warning: Suggestive (nsfw)

Based by: “I wanna be your slave” by Måneskin

I love you since this morning, not just for aesthetic. I wanna touch your body, so fucking electric. I know you're scared of me, you say that I'm too eccentric I'm crying all my tears and that's fucking pathetic

Every time you and Shadow get heated up, he backs off. It never gets past a make out session. Once it feels like he’s gone too far, he pulls apart and apologizes. Opting to distract himself from you.

You thought that maybe there was something wrong with you. That’s not right. The theory was easily written off seeing as Shadow has chosen to stay with you all this time. He’s blunt. Most of the time, you don’t need to ask what’s wrong because he’ll straight up tell you. It’s what you love about him. No need to walk on eggshells or play the guessing game.

So why… is it when it comes to this, he’s dodging the situation like he’s in the matrix?

It came up again. You two were on the couch, supposed to be watching a show. One thing led to another and now here you are, straddling his lap. Bare hands graze along your spine. Lips connected in an intimate tango.

He wants to pull you closer. Tighter. Shadow needs to feel more of you. An animalistic growl escapes him. Your touch is a drug he’s horrendously addicted to. You are his lifeline. Separated, he’s nothing. Yet..

Shadows fingers twitch, feeling the need to claw up your back. To mark you so everyone knows you’re his. Fuck, he wants to sink his nails and fangs into you so bad.

Abruptly he stops. Eyes snap open and his hands rest on either of your shoulders, pushing you away. Breathing synchronized, panting, slowing down into a steady rhythm.

Your dumbfounded expression twists into a worried face. It’s your chance to ask what’s wrong. This time you will get an answer. Shadow is not allowed to leave until he spills.

His gaze goes everywhere but you. He can’t bear to look at you. It’s almost as if he’s.. ashamed? No. Under careful observation, the look on his face appears more afraid.

Once confident hands now tremble. Shadow’s head hanging low as his forehead rests on your chest.

Quiet as a mouse, he whispers, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Clarify. Please. Those words sound awful all on their own. There are a million different things that sentence could mean.

'Cause I'm the devil who's searching for redemption. And I'm a lawyer who's searching for redemption. And I'm a killer who's searching for redemption. A motherfucking monster who's searching for redemption

“I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I hurt you. Physically,�� Shadow adds, finally making eye contact. A stray tear or two has found its way down his cheek.

“Trust me, I do want you..” Fangs sink into his bottom lip, drawing blood. He sighs, admitting, “I’ve never— done.. with anyone.”

You couldn’t find it in yourself to chuckle. Not when he’s in this state. Cupping his face, you wipe the tears with your thumbs, giving Shadow a reassuring smile. There's no need to rush things. Take it slow, take it easy. You're perfectly content with waiting however long. Silence follows after pecking his forehead.

Chaos, he doesn’t deserve you. Every fiber of his body screams at him, ‘he doesn’t.’ After all he’s done in the past, what he’s been through. Shadow is so lucky to have you. It’s a wonder how you could love a ‘monster’..

That’s not who or what he is. Not to you.

Shadow the hedgehog.

The ultimate life form.

For you he’s… your partner. Your lover.

A friend. A rock.

The one who has been by your side no matter what.

To him, you are a beacon of light. One he should protect. Another reason for him to keep existing. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth.. Like a.. Well a shadow, of course.

I wanna be your sex toy, I wanna be your teacher

I wanna be your slave, I wanna be your master. I wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters

“Teach me,” Shadow speaks up.

Tilting his head, he leans in towards so that it rests on your shoulder, breath hitting your neck. The urge to bite and suck on your neck is overwhelming.

Shadow tentatively licks your throat before placing a kiss.

“Teach me how to make you feel good.”

[anachronismstellar]

SQH x Original Goods SQQ ;>

ooooooh wait, WAIT I have to think this one

Let's all pretend is not 4 am shhhh

I feel like OG SQQ would be attracted by SQH competence, like a game of cat and mouse or or OH WAIT I KNOW

------

The black and white pieces were carefully organized over the wooden board, the game paused as both peak lords took their time to consider the possible strategies. Shen Qingqiu had been the last one to make a move, capturing one of Shang Qinghua's stones, turning it between his fingers as he took the opportunity to observe the An Ding Peak Lord.

He didn't know how they ended up in this situation. If someone asked Shen Qingqiu when he had started observing Shang Qinghua, he had no exact answer. He knew it hadn’t been during their Head Disciple days, then Shang Qinghua had blended so completely against the wall of yellow robes that Shen Qingqiu could barely remember him during his missions. His best bet would be one of the first meetings as peak lords, Yue Qingyuan still trying to organize twelve egotistical cultivators as each of them tried to grab more missions and more resources for their own peak.

Hah, he would have more luck shoving twelve cats in a bag.

But then, the An Ding Peak Lord stood up, slamming a pile of papers so high it had been a miracle it didn’t fall all over their table.

"May I speak, Zhangmen-Shixiong?" Shang Qinghua had asked after a short but respectful bow, flipping his sleeves in a circular motion to wrap them around his arms in a graceful movement. The he proceeded to metaphorically and literally grab all of them by the scruff of their necks, organizing their speaking order, cutting their speeches short with a no nonsense "Thank you" every time they spoke beyond their scheduled time.

"We can stop here for today," Yue Qingyuan said with his brows slightly up, not able to hide his surprise when they finished things before dinner time. "Thank you, Shang-Shidi, for your help."

"Of course, Zhangmen-Shixiong," Shang Qinghua answered, but Shen Qingqiu could see his mind was already somewhere else, rushing to get to the door before anyone else.

Since then he couldn't help but keep an eye on yellow robes passing by, eager to hold the other for a conversation, to pick on his brain.

He blinked, coming back to his bamboo house by the soft sound of rustling silk and jade against wood as Shang Qinghua made his move, holding back a frown.

"Either play properly or leave," Shen Qingqiu said as he took another white stone from the board, putting it a bit too forcefully on his little pile on the table.

"Ah sorry, sorry, Shen-Shixiong, I'm having issues with a special ink shipment, and then Mu-shidi asked for a flower that I know he knows it only grows during winter and it's summer-"

"Stop blabling," he sighed as he looked up, glaring at his ceiling to pray to Heavens for patience. Last time he had lost his temper with Shang-shidi the man had vanished for weeks, leaving Shen Qingqiu without a decent Go player and a bad taste on his mouth. "I have no patience for your mental games today."

And as if by magic the man in front of him transformed, the suck up smile sliding from his face as Shang Qinghua straightened up his posture, the small man growing twice his size as broad shoulders filled his robes properly. "This one apologizes for testing Shen-Shixiong's patience," Then Shang Qinghua slowly twisted his head to the side, cracking his neck followed by a sigh. "I had to spend the morning dealing with Zhangmen-Shixiong, and you know how it is."

Shen Qingqiu let a bitter chuckle escape, sliding his fan open to hide half of his face, knowing full well how good his eyes looked over the painted paper.

"What? Sucking his dick isn't solving the problem?"

The effect was immediate. Shang Qinghua that had decided to take a sip of his tea almost chocked on it, gasping for air for a good minute, face so red one could think he had never written porn in his life.

Oh yes, Shen Qingqiu knew about his little stories too. Shang Qinghua wasn't the only one with spies all over the mountains.

"I- We- It's not-"

"Oh, spare me," Shen Qingqiu scoffed, lazily fanning himself, as he gave one last glance at the board, mourning their forgotten game. Shame, it was so difficult for them to meet up for a match. Of course Yue Qingyuan had to spoil even this for him. "You might be able to lie to those buffoons Wei Qingwei and Liu Qingge, but I have two perfectly functioning eyes. Also, there are so many late night meetings one must attend before it gets excessive."

It was good to see that red suited Shang Qinghua just as much as yellow. And Shen Qingqiu had to use all his will to not laugh as the other peak lord did his best to recompose himself, all in vain.

"My real question is... And I know I will regret the answer," Shen Qinggiu raised his hand to stop the new barrel of excuses so he could finish speaking. "How ih the all realms did that start. Did he offered you a holiday of some kind? Or maybe he wanted to thank you for dealing with Liu Qingge last stunt, Heavens knows you deserve a raise for that."

Again, Shen Qingqiu wasn't expecting a real answer. In fact, he wasn't expecting an answer at all, the way Shang Qinghua was blushing, the An Ding peak lord was about to faint or run away before Shen Qinggiu could snap his fan closed.

What he did get, however, was a muffled string of words, followed by a groan and a whine. Peharps he had hit the mark with one of his hypothesis? Now, things have gotten even more interesting.

"Speak plainly, Shidi, you know I can't stand mumbling."

"He complimented my hands!" Shang Qinghua squaked, his voice so high it had scared the poor birds on the garden.

There was a beat of silence as Shen Qingqiu waited for the rest of the explanation, barking a laugh when nothing came.

"That's it? Is it that easy to make you open your legs?"

"Oh shut up, Shixiong, you say that as if you wouldn't do it too!"

That, was crossing a line.

Shen Qingqiu never had to explain himself or his hatred for Yue Qingyuan to the other peak lord, it was if Shang Qinghua knew somehow that they shared a past. That was another thing that drove them together, the fact that Shang Qinghua was able to keep his mouth shut, even when he could use it for his own gain.

"Shixiong, I'm so sorry I-"

"Do tell," he interrupted what was for sure about to be an emotional moment for both of them, lips pressed thin in a frown, making sure to send his best murder glare to the man in front of him. "What compliment did our steemed Zhangmen-Shixiong could have used to conquer the slippery An Ding Peak Lord?"

He could see Shang Qinghua's brain working a way to escape the situation, his eyes darting left and right, checking all the exists of the small house. He could also see the moment Shang Qinghua had resigned himself to his fate, shrugging and waving his hands, buying himself time before answering:

"He said I had nimble fingers? And then I panicked and asked if he wanted to see how nimb they were or something, I don't remember and then, well, we, uh-"

"Well?"

"W-Well what?"

"How nimb they are?"

It finally clicked, Shang Qinghua's face going from embarassed to surprised, then interessed as he made a point of putting both hands on the table, slowly tapping his fingers on the top of it, the little tease.

"Would Shen-Shinxiong like to find out for himself?"

Shen Qingqiu felt his mouth drying as a shiver went up his spine. He wanted to scream at himself, to throw Shang Qinghua out of his house and hit him with the Go board on his way out, just out of spite.

On the other hand, he couldn't deny that Shang Qinghua was a handsome man when he put on some effort. Specially when he was commanding a room of peak lords, giving orders left and right, so sure of his information and knowledge that they had no other choice but follow.

How would that be...

"Follow me, Shidi," he got up in a measured movement, holding back his excitement as he guided them towards his room. Time to see if not only what those fingers could do, but also to put that smart mouth for better use than fumbling excuses.

And just as he had done many times before, Shang Qinghua surprised him once again, making Shen Qingqiu scare the birds with an entirely other type of screams.

------

This got,,,, Insanely long holy shit.

Also, it's kinda a continuation of the SQH/YQY ask?? dshiufhdsuifhui

I hope you liked!!! Thank you for the ask it was a blast to write it!!! :DDDD

[rax-writes]

↬ when night falls

Tywin Lannister x Reader

intended to be a sequel to the morning after, but it's not necessary that you read it prior to this

Warnings: Smut, MDNI, 18+ ONLY ⇆ P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, age gap, nipple play, bit of breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, pregnant!reader

The journey from Winterfell to King's Landing took considerably longer than necessary, given the Queen's insistence that she travel in that godsforsaken carriage of hers. As such, five weeks after your marriage to Tywin Lannister, you were spending one final night in a lavish red and gold tent alongside your lord husband.

For the entirety of the journey, the two of you spent the entire day apart – your horse trotting behind your father and King Robert, and Tywin a short distance behind, alongside Ser Jamie. Occasionally, Arya would pester you into allowing her to sit in front of you on the saddle, as you quietly conversed with her and taught her how to control the horse. But, aside from that, you were alone with your thoughts all day, every day.

The nights, however, were spent in the arms of your lord husband.

The two of you quite quickly developed a very… peculiar dynamic. You had quickly learned and adapted to the way the fearsome Tywin Lannister operates – preferring you speak concisely and directly, vehemently uninterested in anything otherwise. Additionally, there was a degree of mutual respect, as well as a vaguely guarded openness to one another – but certainly no love, or any semblance of romantic feelings at all. In truth, you assumed there never would be.

But gods was there lust.

On your end, it was your first and only experience with sex, and it was undeniably good, so you were eager for it. On his end… you couldn't be sure. It could be that the man was pent up from years as a bachelor, but it would be safe to assume he had simply sent for a whore when the mood struck him. A more likely reason would be his pursuit of an heir, but surely he wouldn't have needed to fill your cunt nightly to achieve that goal. No, you were almost certain that he was simply enjoying fucking you – just as much as you were enjoying fucking him.

When Tywin entered the tent, you were sitting on the edge of the cot, toying with the goblet in your hands, already undressed to your shift. He met your eyes as he entered, but said nothing, that unreadable (but somehow always leaning toward annoyed) expression on his face. He silently began taking off his boots, then removed his sword and placed it beside the cot. He was in the middle of pouring wine into his goblet when you found the courage to ask your question.

"Will you stop bedding me when I become pregnant?"

Tywin said nothing, setting the pitcher down and turning to face you as he took a sip of his wine. He wore that calm, calculating expression as he stared at you – but you could swear there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. The golden goblet made a faint clank as he set it down before speaking.

"Do you ask because you wish for me to stop? Or because you wish for me to continue?"

"I wish for you to continue."

"Then I shall continue," Tywin stated, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Good," you replied, then added, "Because I am."

"You are what?"

"Pregnant."

The smile dropped and Tywin's eyebrows raised, making his forehead crinkle.

"Already?" he inquired dryly, surprised. Then, incredulous, he asked, "How do you know?"

It was a fair question. You had never been pregnant before, so perhaps you were mistaking soreness and fatigue from travel as signs of pregnancy. But no. You knew.

"I should have bled three weeks ago, but I have not. My breasts are extremely tender, and certain smells make my stomach turn."

Tywin nodded, then stated, "I do not doubt that you are right, but we will have a Maester provide his confirmation and look you over when we arrive in King's Landing. In the meantime, is there anything you need?"

A faint but wicked smile spread across your face, and you stood from the bed, setting the goblet down as you slowly made your way over to him. The metal of his armor was cold beneath your fingers as you idly ran your hands over his chest, before toying with the belt around his hips, looking up at him through your lashes.

"You," was your simple answer. But both of you knew that it wasn't meant in a romantic, sweet sort of way.

Tywin's hand reached up to cradle your face, somewhat harshly, hooking his thumb under your jaw to tilt your head up and kiss you. It was lustful and full of desire, accompanied by the scratch of his beard upon the delicate skin of your face.

When he pulled away, Tywin smiled quite faintly, then hummed lowly and said, "Well, what sort of man would I be to deny his pregnant lady wife her wish?"

The old lion made quick work of removing his armor and smallclothes, and relieving you of the thin linen shift you wore, before guiding you to the luxurious cot. Tywin continued to kiss you, eventually trailing kisses down your neck, until he reached your chest, unexpectedly taking one of your breasts into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.

The sensation nearly made you shout, opting to take in a sharp breath instead as your back arched off the blankets. Eyes squeezed shut, you heard a low chuckle, and looked down to see a set of very amused, crystalline eyes staring up at you.

"Hm, I see you were not exaggerating about the sensitivity."

Electing to ignore him, you let your head fall back onto the pillow. However, it seemed he did not intend to grant you any reprieve, moving to the other breast and doing the same thing – prompting you to dig your nails into his shoulders and bite your lip to avoid crying out. Unfortunately, that made matters worse, as Tywin let out a low groan with his lips still wrapped around your nipple, earning a loud, pitiful whine from you.

Seemingly enjoying himself, Tywin began peppering your chest with gentle bites, which he soothed with his tongue afterwards, sure to become small little bruises by morning. Breathy moans and sighs of pleasure filled the tent, as he then resumed his ministrations on the hardened peaks of your breasts before snaking one hand down to toy with your clit, expertly rubbing it in small, steady circles. Astoundingly fast, your release washed over you, soaking his hand as you moaned and writhed beneath the Warden of the West – who only chuckled darkly at your quick climax.

Noticing that the continued kisses and licks upon your breasts began to make you twitch, Tywin captured your lips in a brief, rough kiss, before rolling onto his back. He then pulled you into his lap, with a strength one wouldn’t assume the older man to still possess – which was, admittedly, arousing. Your mind was still foggy from the orgasm, and your movements were not unlike a rag doll, eyes half-lidded and jaw slack, moving somewhat limply as you allowed him to maneuver you. He gripped his hard, leaking cock in one hand, then reached behind you to urge you forward with a flat palm on the small of your back.

A hiss through gritted teeth escaped Tywin, and you gasped lightly, head thrown back and hands flat on his chest. Although you’d already lost count of how many times he’d taken you, it still felt more incredible than anything you’d ever experienced. A passing thought reminded you of the fact that he seemed to share the sentiment, always hissing or groaning when he first sheathed himself inside you.

Tywin’s grip moved to your hips, prompting you to begin rocking them against his own, keeping your pace steady. However, he made no move to halt you when you eventually began to move faster, leaning back to rest your hands on his thighs as you fucked yourself on his long, thick cock. The sound of it alone would have made a Septa drop dead – a symphony composed of wet skin upon skin and gruff grunts intermingling with breathy moans.

He reached up to grasp and knead your breasts in his rough, calloused hands – but he then surprised you, his hands drifting lower, until they rested flat against your lower stomach. You thought perhaps he was focusing on the movement of your hips, but then his thumbs began to stroke across the soft skin of your belly.

At first, it seemed very sweet and sentimental. You thought that perhaps he was basking in the joy of another child being on the way – until you felt the way his cock throbbed, deep inside of you, as he stared intently at your belly. Immediately, you came to the realization that it must be arousing for a man to have successfully fucked a babe into his wife – stroking their ego and their pride to have done their husbandly duty, as well as show everyone that you belong to them.

Truth be told, you were surprised to learn that it aroused you just as much.

Tywin groaned as you clenched around him, and when his eyes flicked up to meet yours, it felt as though he knew you had been thinking the very same thing he was.

That seemed to ignite something within your husband, and in the blink of an eye, Tywin flipped you onto your back and began driving into your soaked cunt with a newfound ferocity. You bit down on your knuckle to keep quiet, but Tywin pinned both of your wrists down, his arms on either side of your head. The act did not last much longer beyond that point, both parties having already been too near the precipice of climax, and the pair of you met your releases in unison.

Tywin rolled off of you, breathing heavily, a light layer of sweat covering his chest, along with the small patches of silver hair. You allowed yourself a few moments of recovery, before moving to leave the cot in order to extinguish the candles, as well as tidy yourself up. However, Tywin grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Where are you going?”

“The candles –”

“Can wait,” Tywin interrupted, voice sounding unbothered as always, albeit with a hint of fatigue. He exhaled slowly, as he gently pulled you back down to lay upon the cot beside him. “One of the guards outside can see to the candles in a moment. You are carrying my heir, so you are to rest. As much as is feasible, from now until the babe is born. And if anyone questions it, they are to discuss it with me.”

Anyone possessing the sense the gods gave a mule knows “discussing” something with Tywin Lannister was just the opposite – it was not to be addressed at all, because what Tywin Lannister says, goes. A fact which made you smile softly.

“As my lord husband commands,” you replied, a hint of sarcasm in your tone, but you did exactly as he bade you, pulling some of the blankets over you and nestling into the pillows. You were already yawning by the time Tywin called for a guard, who extinguished the candles, and bathed the room in darkness as you drifted into a deep, contented sleep.

[technically-human]

Hi i'm absolutely in love with the reverse au!!

I want to know, in this verse does edwin still confesses to charles? if so how is it different? i feel if he did he would end it by apologizing, you know, religious guilt and all

There’s a train that goes through Hell.

Its journey starts in Wrath, and it departs already full of souls. It took Charles far too many years to realize that there were separate, more spacious wagons that demons could board. Not that he could understand why anyone, hellborn or not, would want to get into the damned thing. He certainly hadn’t.

Actually, Charles couldn’t recall ever boarding the train. As far as he could tell, he just appeared there one day, and had spent the next tortuous decades trying to get out. It was part of the torture. Getting out was entirely possible. More than that, it was necessary.

The train had no regular schedule that he could discern (not at first, though he had always been good at finding patterns, and was eventually able to crack it) but it would make quite a few stops before finally returning to the Wrath ring. Souls inside the train were already angry and far too close to each other (close, so close not even air could squeeze in) but when they got really violent was when the train made a stop.

Getting out didn’t mean you were free, no matter where you managed it, be it Sloth or Gluttony, Pride or Lust. No, as soon as the train finished its journey, you would appear back inside, in Wrath where you belonged, suffocating once again, getting ready to claw your way out for the millionth time.

Because if you didn’t get out, The Conductor would get you.

If he thought about it calmly, Charles could probably say that he got out of the train more times than not. Still, being caught by The Conductor once was bad enough, as there was no coal in Hell, and something had to serve as combustible. Souls could not burn to death, and the whole journey always felt longer than eternity when he was caught. Once it was over, he would be inside again, and fight with more desperation than before, not caring who stayed inside so long as it wasn’t him.

He couldn’t understand why anyone, hellborn or not, would want to get into the damned thing. He certainly hadn’t. But as the souls pushed and bit and clawed and punched their way out, Edwin boarded the train. And that wasn’t even the most groundbreaking revelation Charles had that day.

ko-fi

[cowardlykrow]

"Hah, dude doesn't even know he's in my tamagotchi."

[spicyet]

What are you looking for here? Scroll back up.

Just kidding, here’s a treat:

[buggachat]

To be clear, I goddamn hated the finale on first watch. I was withering in my seat. My heart had dropped to my stomach. I had no fucking idea what I was watching in that final scene lmao

and then Adrien said "when Ladybug gave me the rings—" and I was like— wait. LADYBUG? LADYBUG STILL EXISTS?

I THOUGHT THE ENTIRE TIMELINE HAD BEEN REWRITTEN 😭😭😭😭 I THOUGHT LADYBUG AND CHATN OIR DIDNT UFCKING EXIST uNTIL ADRIEN SAID THAT I WAS SO SO SO SCARED

and then I realized, oh wait. This isn't a complete utopian timeline rewrite. This is just a timeskip of a few months and Mme Bustier is just a kickass mayor. In fact, she's only mayor BECAUSE it's still the same timeline. And then I realized, hey, wait, if they didn't rewrite the timeline, then how tf is Emilie casually there with no questions?

And then I realized she was wearing black. And Félix was there. And I remembered Amelie exists.

Basically, I went into the finale chanting to myself "it's okay, it's okay... they probably wont bring Emilie back... they probably won't rewrite the entire timeline permanently.... right? please....", even though I didn't actually expect it to happen, but just because I was terrified that it could. And apparently that fear actually got to me so much that I misinterpreted the episode as being everything I didn't want it to be... when... it actually wasn't that at all

anyway, all of this is to say, everything in the episode happens so fast that it confused and terrified me at first. And when I realized what had happened, my opinion went from "my year is ruined" to "oh. well. okay. kind of disappointing, I guess". And then I kept thinking about it, and the ending, and all that is set up and rewatching the scenes and all the loose ends still in place and.... i realized I loved it?

like, every time I think about this finale, I love it more. every time i rewatch a scene, I get a little obsessed. this episode went from my nightmare to actually really really cool to me, and I'm still kind of reeling from it

Basically, this is why I've been kind of passionately defending the finale— not because I think people who don't like it are """dumb""" or anything, I don't blame people at all for that, and I totally get the confusion. I was confused too. And I know I'm not the only one who went in preparing themselves for the worst, or went in with very specific expectation on what will happen, because this finale has been long awaited for so long. I think everyone was shocked with how it ended. I think most people probably startled at Amelie's face (it's so easy to forget she exists....)

Anyways, I started this post basically as an apology for if I seem too aggressive or defensive about the finale. Because I get it! I get hating it! I get being disappointed or frustrated or confused! Part of why I'm so defensive is because I have all the arguments so ready on the tip of my tongue because I had the very same argument with myself already 😭 So I'm sorry if any of my posts came off as too aggressive and in advance for any future posts that might. I promise promise promise I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad for having bad opinions on the finale! I just think this episode is really cool and the fact I related to a lot of the nay-sayers makes it easy to feel so impassioned about it.

But this post is getting off the rails and I'm just gonna let it, because some of my regrets w my participation in fandom is that I find myself chickening out of actually talking about my thoughts on episodes a lot. I get kind of overwhelmed and overthink everything after I've posted it and I'm a shy person. But my inbox is closed and this is the season 5 finale and I want to ramble and ramble so I will allow myself this

Basically, I went in with some very specific expectations for this episode. We all know about the Hawkmoth defeat story. Many of us have read it in fics over and over again, it was teased in Chat Blanc, we all know what we expect, we all know our favorite beats from it.

And what actually happened....... met virtually none of those beats. (For me, at least).

Like, Adrien wasn't there for the final episode. At all. He was completely absent from the confrontation. He never found out his father was Hawkmoth. He got his rings, but he never found out he was a sentimonster. He is living in the dark.

Ladybug confronted Monarch... alone. Which is sad, when so much of the series is dedicated to the partnership of her and Chat Noir. Them against the world....... and Monarch was "defeated" with nary a Chat Noir in sight.

The whole entire "Gabriel is known as a hero" thing. I don't think anybody was expecting that. Absolutely shocking.

The fact Marinette would lie to Adrien like that. The fact she's keeping so much from him. The fact everyone is. SO MANY people in Adrien's life (Marinette, Plagg, Nathalie, Felix, Amelie, Kagami, probably Alya, maybe more I'm not thinking of....) are just... lying to him, now. He is so in the dark. He knows nothing.

But.........

I kind of like that I didn't predict nearly any of this. I like that it caught me off guard. I love how this show just completely baffles me at every turn, how it will present concepts and ideas to me that I've never read a fic about.

In retrospect, Chat Noir being absent from the final battle... makes sense. It actually makes a lot of sense, if I think about it, because... there is only one possible way that could've gone, right? Chat Noir would not be allowed to have the emotional implosion that he would have to have. This is devastating. This is SO devastating. This is the entire shattering of Adrien's entire world we're talking about, and Chat Blanc is the only real way for that to end. Adrien has an emotional implosion in front of Monarch, he gets akumatized, it turns into an emotion explosion, extinction event. The end. We've already seen it.

And........ even if it didn't end that way, even if he managed to avoid akumatization...... how could the finale satisfyingly end on that note? How could it end in any semblance of a "wrapped up" way, at the very start of Adrien's emotional breakdown? It couldn't. I wouldn't WANT it to. In retrospect, Adrien finding out his dad is Monarch and then.... what? The season ends on a close-up of him crying? The season ends with a time-skip to the new school year where they skipped his entire grieving period!? I would HATE that, actually. I would hate that. I thought I wanted it, but I would hate it. I would hate it so so so much.

What's kind of amazing is that the finale ended with Monarch being defeated.... but Adrien still has those realizations to make. He still has those betrayals to come to terms with. There is time for him to make these realizations, for him to come to these conclusions, perhaps one at a time, perhaps in a more controlled environment.... and that gets me far, far more excited for the seasons to come than an episode that tried to wrap it all up in the last 5 minutes.

Also, the reason Adrien didn't go to the final battle was because he feared becoming Chat Blanc. He didn't know the truth to it, didn't understand that literally, yes, that's what would have happened if he was there, even if he hadn't been under a nightmare curse. But he still knew. He still expected it. He willingly chose to sit it out, no matter how much he hated it, because he knew. And there's something kind of powerful to that, I think, of Adrien making a choice that is so unequivocally the Correct choice, even more than he realized. And the strength it took for him to make that decision...... damn.

As for the lies and the Gabriel statue? I... it's upsetting, but it's supposed to be. And I believe it. I absolutely believe it. I 10000% believe Marinette would keep the secret of Monarch's identity to herself to try to save Adrien the pain. I 10000% believe that the population could easily be led to believe a famous billionaire is a hero. I 10000% believe that Adrien would WANT to believe it. I 10000% believe Tomoe would take advantage of it.

And I can't wait to see that illusion crumble.

Also.... this is the beginning of The Lila arc.

And the Lila arc begins on........ Marinette telling the biggest, boldest face lie she ever told. The Lila arc begins on the most extreme city-wide illusion we've ever seen. It begins on such a huge fabrication and....

..... it's Marinette's lie.

............ and Lila knows that it's a lie.

I'm

!!?!?!?!

This is so fucking cool???? The irony here??? the deceit???? All these loose ends, all the possible confrontations, all the ways this could GO. I don't know where the show is taking this, obviously, because nobody ever can predict where this show is going apparently (and I love it for that), but oh my god. I'm imagining all the fics I could read about this. all the fics I could write. all the thoughts and scenarios that this finale has provided me with to daydream about as I go to sleep.

Adrien, going through the motions of life. Looking up to his father as a hero, despite the fact the last time he saw him, Adrien was sobbing, in tears, and cursing his name. Adrien, after all the abuse he was subject to, having to look up at a statue of his father and...... be forced to think that maybe he was wrong about his father. But he's not wrong. He WASN'T wrong. He just THINKS that he is. His father is going to continue to loom over his life in ways I never expected post-hawkmoth. Adrien's relationship with Gabriel has not ended, a new and terrifying and horrible new chapter of it has simply begun, and Adrien is still as manipulated by his father's ghost as he was by his father himself.

THAT'S. WILD!!!

also, Adrien now believes that MONARCH MURDERED HIS FATHER. Chat Noir now believes that his greatest nemesis KILLED HIS FATHER. CHAT NOIR, resident self-sacrificer, believes that HIS FATHER was a HERO who DIED FIGHTING MONARCH. Adrien thinks that maybe he should be more like his father— more like his father who died in battle. This is. Not Good. For Adrien.

And it's Marinette that started this. Well intentioned Marinette, who doesn't really understand the extent of the horrors. Marinette, Adrien's girlfriend, the person he trusts most. She did this.

And, I mean.... god. I totally get how this sucks for a lot of people, because it's objectively upsetting.... but I LOVE lovesquare tension. Season 4 is probably my favorite season for that reason alone (still mulling over if season 5 beat it for me). I love the relationship drama, I love that it's in character drama, I love how it fits everything we know about them sososo well, I love that it's horrible and it's terrible and it's awful and it's all because Marinette loved Adrien too much to want to hurt him.

I was worried no reveal would mean that season 6 would just be... what? adrienette fluff? not that I don't love that, but where's the drama? well. there it is. that's the drama.

I need to stop typing this. I know this is abysmally long and ranty and if you read all of this then I'm sorry. But I wanted to get some of my thoughts out.

But basically, I was expecting a lot of things for the finale.

In my best case scenario, it would somehow, miraculously tie up and address all the loose ends with Adrien's angst and character arc in two episodes.... and then end with me totally satisfied, ready to only half-heartedly watch season 6 like it was just a small dessert after the main course.

And I already described my worst case scenario (my first impression of the episode lmao)

But it wasn't that. I was expecting a series finale, but I got a season finale. And I love season finales. I love how they keep me wanting more. I love how excited I am for season 6, because in both my best and worst case scenarios, I honestly didn't expect to be. I love all the new ideas and thoughts and scenarios swirling around in my brain. And even if season 6 doesn't address some of the things I want addressed, I'm so excited to see the creative content in this fandom that DOES

[mikichko]

just waking up delirious from a nap but cant get rid of the idea of price being interrogated by your friends.

night after your housewarming party, he steps out of your room bare chested and sweatpants low on his hips and finds your friends waiting for him.

they’ve never seen or heard of this man before. you only introduced him last night as john. the only indication of anything between the two of you was a constant point of contact between you two all night.

the questions start right away. name, age, occupation, how you met, what his intentions are. it’s all very entertaining to him, being on the other side of an incredibly juvenile interrogation attempt.

he takes it in stride though, not faltering for a moment as he starts to make himself a cup of coffee. price. ignores the age question, honestly kids these days lack decency and decorum. government worker. met at a bar. just trying to be a good man.

they don’t miss the way he doesn’t fumble through your kitchen. instead, moving through it with precision, knowing where every single item is.

and then finally, “what are you to them?” asked by the one in the back with curls, broad shoulders, and anger in his eyes that warms price all throughout. he doesn’t know he’s already lost.

he takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over the question and the last few months. shared drinks in the dark corner of an already shady pub. carrying your groceries in after you nearly tripped over yourself walking out of the store. books traded back and forth on park benches adorning a pond. stories repeated over a hot plate of dinner, the warmth softening john just a little more. your nails digging into his shoulders, legs wrapped around him, his mouth peppering kisses against your neck and mouthing words he can’t say out loud just yet.

he smiles against the rim of the cup, taking another swig.

“i’m, their caretaker.”

part 2 ?

[marsti]

i am not joking when i say trolls have gotten shittier at what they do. successful trolling and flamebait is a lost art. nowadays they just send you an ask like "it's really problematic that you did XYZ" expecting you to get angry and defensive. and thats because most people have honestly really failed to adapt to this kind of trolling? it keeps working, they keep doing it.

if an anon criticizes you all like "im a lesbian and-" or "im a trans man and-" or "im a poc and-" or whatever thats your queue to disregard everything they say. because you cant verify that. you have to internalize that it's in your best interest to treat all annoying anons as being sent by the same white middle class american cishet guy named kyle, and he just has a lot of free time and no friends.

"but what if it's not kyle! what if theyre actually a lesbian/trans man/poc/&c?" well theyre not looking for open discussion, if they were they wouldnt send an anon ask. so it literally doesnt matter, treat them as if theyre kyle anyway. and remember youre not a public figure youre literally just blogging, you dont need to be "held accountable" for anything.

and same goes for "thoughts on [controversial topic]?" and "why did you do [accusation]?" type anon asks. thats kyle again, hes just gotten bored with claiming every marginalized identity under the sun. if they wanna prove theyre not kyle all they gotta do is uncheck that box.

[robiinurheart33]

Ghost is starting to realise something.

It started off slow at first- pinpointing where soap was first in a room before the others, coincidentally spacing off in the same direction as soap, starting to follow soap wherever he went.

It’s nothing, really.

It’s nothing.

Nothing at all.

But it was really starting to bother him, the way Johnny started to get under his skin.

It pissed him off. Ghost always needs to be in his top condition during missions because one mistake could cost everything. How could he do that when before taking off soap would pat his shoulder and it felt like his ribs were caving in on him? How could anyone blame him when their thighs are pressed together, touching from ankle to shoulder and his heart would claw at his skin, begging to get out?

Or when soap would squeeze the nape of his neck as a friendly gesture and suddenly he was flushed and hot under the collar? Why was this happening to him? What is happening? Because all of a sudden Johnny’s summer, and he sinks into ghost’s bones and his skin, renders his muscles useless and his brain fuzzy and-

There’s something horribly wrong with him.

Johnny’s laughter makes his breathing pick up, it makes his fingers tremble and he wants to take that laughter and keep it in a locket to hang around his neck. Johnny makes ghost want to throw him against a wall and also cradle his face like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Johnny’s summer because he makes Ghost’s cold heart feel warmth again, makes him think of flip flops, missing teeth, shiny skin and a non stop itchiness. That’s what it is. It burrows under his skin, it makes his fingertips tingle and his heart ache and his ribs melt and his throat close up. This is soap’s fault. Ghost needs to kill soap.

That’s not quite right.

Because something in Ghost, in Simon wants to keep him away too, that terrorises his mind whenever he sees Johnny hurt. That he should steal him away and live in domestic paradise on the other side of the galaxy, because Simon knows better than to think that he can chase his past away that easily.

But then Ghost gets hurt, and it’s not that bad, really, he’s had worse. But now Soap’s tearing apart the place, face flushed and panicked. Panicked over Ghost. It might just be the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen. So when he grabs Soap by the shoulders and orders him to calm the fuck down, his brain suddenly surges forward for things to say.

I love it when you get concerned for me.

I love it when you touch me.

I love it when you remember things about me

I love it that you let me double check your gear because I can’t lose you.

I love the stretch marks on your hips that I accidentally saw when you came out of the shower.

I love your fucked up accent.

I love the way you say “canny” it’s so dumb

I love your face

I love you,

I love you,

I love you.

And it comes to a point where Ghost has to actively hold himself back because he accidentally held soap’s face in his hands and he cherished all 0.7 seconds of it before he violently ripped his hands away and walked off without a word.

It felt like all his ribs had broken in half and punctured his lungs and heart, and he was slowly bleeding out and suffocating. Johnny makes him feel like summer. Ghost starts to look forward to tomorrow, he starts to get excited at the new promise of physical touch, at the chance to casual love. He’s warm and gooey and Johnny’s melted his skeleton down and what’s left is Simon.

It was like nothing to Soap, and it drives Ghost crazy how it happened so fast. Johnny’s cradled Simon’s corpse in his warm hands and decided that he would love again, simple as that. And if he could do it like it was as simple as breathing, then maybe Ghost could love him the same way.

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

y'all need to get a grip. you blab all day about how much you hate bigots and hateful people and how evil it is to dehumanize anyone and then you turn around and say "kys" and "i think [x] should all just kill themselves" and other disgusting, violent and childish trash

so many people on here are just full of hatred and vitriol and turn into frenzied sharks anytime the target 'deserves it' and they think they can get away with it and not be called bad people. then they whine about how sad it is that we can't all just get along and if only all the evil people in the world would stop doing evil things wouldn't that be nicer

you're just as vicious, hypocritical and fanatically puritanical as the caricature you have made in your minds of the people you think you have nothing in common with. if you've ever told someone, ANYONE to kill themselves you're not advocates of justice, you're not artisans of peace, and you certainly don't have any moral high ground that would allow you to pass judgment on others

[gh0st-patr0l]

I just like 2 make sure we all remember the dinosaur is college educated

[cassowarywary]

[Start ID: 10 photos of a bound book of the I am in Eskew transcripts. Photos 1 through 4 show the casing with and without a dust jacket. The dust jacket is marbled silver and white with the title written on it in black ink, and the casing is black leather with vertical insets of the same silver and white paper, grey book cloth, and red book cloth. Photos 5 through 10 show the inside: the red and black marbled endpapers, the silver and white decoration paper, the title page with an illustration of a bird turning into a city, a translucent vellum page before Chapter Zero: Initiation, the beginning of Chapter 15: Crossroads which displays the red binding, and a closeup of a page from episode 20: Cruelty. /End ID]

I have always had plans to, once I finished the titlecard art pieces, print them with their corresponding transcripts for myself. Then I decided that I wanted to add the lineart pieces. Then I realized that the transcripts were not fully accurate, so I went through and transcribed corrections to match the audio. Then I decided that I wanted to go back and redo a couple of the titlecard pieces, etc, etc. This printed version ended up not including any art-- I don’t have access to a printer which can handle that--but I wanted a physical copy which I could annotate. As a result, this thing is huge. It’s easily twice the size of any book I’ve bound before, and the cut edges are a bit wonky, but I’m still really happy with it.