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rosie-b · 1 month

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Follow the Red Wooly String

A soulmate story written for day 6 of @adrinetteapril, "Red String" (with art!!!)

The art is a commission from the talented @sinkdraws! Her commissions are still open, so consider getting some of her art for yourself, and reblog the non-png version of this image from her, too!!

Without further ado, you can read the fic on AO3 or just below! I hope you enjoy :D

The first time Marinette saw the strings, she thought she was hallucinating.

Everyone knew about the Seers, the few people capable of seeing soul-binding strings, but it was exceptionally rare to meet one, let alone develop the Seers’ ability oneself. And, well, Marinette knew herself well enough to know she couldn’t fully trust herself after pulling an anxiety-and-ADHD-fueled all-nighter. Last time it’d happened, she’d been fully convinced that Nino had grown his hair out into a mohawk and loudly complimented him on it several times before passing out in the middle of class. In the aftermath, Nino had sworn to never wear a new hat without telling Marinette about it first again.

So, Marinette had been more dubious than shocked when she closed her eyes for a second too long on her walk to class in the morning and opened them to see a mess of red, white, black, and yellow strings tangling and shifting around on the pavement in front of her. It was a cool hallucination, she knew it was, but Marinette wasn’t about to celebrate having a new power that she’d most likely daydreamed up.

Her heart still did a happy, nervous dance when she saw the deep red string that had just appeared on her finger, though, and Marinette really didn’t want to quash the hope that her vision was coaxing to new life in her chest! She’d wanted to know who her soulmate was for so long, before becoming Ladybug and meeting Master Fu, anyway. What if she finally had a chance to find them?

On the other hand, though, it was probably safer for her not to find out who they were.

Chat Noir had always believed that they were soulmates. He’d asked Master Fu, the day they’d been invited to his home and the turtle kwami had revealed that Master Fu was a Seer, if he’d chosen them because he could tell their strings were connected.

Master Fu had only chuckled and said that he’d chosen them because he knew they would work well with Plagg and Tikki, not for any other reason. Besides, if Ladybug and Chat Noir really were soulmates, and if Master Fu told them that now, he’d claimed, that would add to the risk of another Seer seeing the string while they were detransformed and telling them each about it, thus revealing their secret identities.

They both knew what that meant— they’d have to give up their Miraculous, even if they were platonic, not romantic, soulmates. Their secret identities were crucial in the fight against Hawk Moth. So, Chat Noir had given up his hope of confirming their bond, and Ladybug had reluctantly given up her dream of finding her own soulmate (or soulmates). After all, if a Seer did take an interest in finding out whose string connected to hers, wasn’t there a risk that the same Seer might find out Ladybug’s identity, or at least who Ladybug’s soulmate was?

She didn’t want to put herself or her soulmate in danger like that, so she’d suppressed her childhood dream of being brought to her soulmate by a kind Seer and a little red string.

But sometimes, Marinette couldn’t help but stare at Adrien’s pinky finger during class and imagine a scarlet red string there, connecting his soul to hers. Love was a foolish thing, but Marinette wished she could afford its risk for the sake of being with Adrien. As Ladybug, though, she’d never be able to, so even after Master Fu handed over the Guardianship to her, she ignored her dream of being connected to Adrien as much as she could. Because she loved him, she didn’t want to put him in danger with her foolish hopes.

Today, though, as she approached Ms. Bustier’s classroom (only five minutes late!) and watched as the string trailing down from her finger seemed to grow taught, Marinette couldn’t help but hope that maybe, the universe was making an exception for her. Maybe, if she really was becoming a Seer, that meant she could finally find her soulmate without needing to worry about her secret identity!

Maybe this was a sign… if it wasn’t just an exhaustion-fueled hallucination, that was.

Marinette slid into her seat with a quiet apology to her teacher, who sighed but didn’t act surprised, since this kind of behavior wasn’t really that uncommon for Marinette. As Ms. Bustier resumed her lecture, Marinette found herself staring down at the string on her finger again.

It’s still there. What if it is real? She wondered.

Marinette looked around quickly, to make sure no one was watching her, and then gently poked the place where the string seemed to be. If the stories were true, only Seers could physically touch the strings. Everyone else phased through them or avoided them, as though by instinct, but the Seers could follow a string to its owner by sight and touch, and they were even capable of untying the string, releasing the bond between soulmates. That only happened rarely, Marinette remembered as she grasped the thick, red string tied around her little finger.

As it turned out, her string was soft, like it was made with fluffy wool. She touched it again, marveling at the texture under her fingertips. It felt so real!

In front of her, Adrien shivered.

“You okay, dude? Classroom too chilly for you today?” Nino’s whisper barely reached Marinette’s ears.

Adrien hesitated and then shook his head in response as Ms. Bustier shot Nino a meaningful look. There was no escaping the teacher’s attention for students in the front row.

Marinette turned her attention back to the string for another moment before leaving it alone to at least pretend to take notes. In her sleep-deprived state, her notes usually left something to be desired (legibility, for one), and she shot a nervous glance at Alya, who caught her gaze and offered a smile and nod in return.

“I got you, girl,” she mouthed, and Marinette smiled and mouthed a sincere thank you back.

Class moved on, and Marinette lost herself in trying to pay attention, and then in the way the light from outside fell on Adrien’s hair, and then in several doodles serious notes until lunch. At that point, she decided it would be okay to sneak another peek at her soul-string, if it was still there.

It was, trailing down from her finger to a small, coiled pile on the floor between her and Adrien. Marinette traced it with her eyes as she slowly began to pack up.

Then, Adrien got up to leave, saying something to Nino about lunch at the mansion today, and the pile of Marinette’s soul-string began to unwind itself. Some of it began to follow Adrien, and Marinette jumped up in a panic.

Her heart rate spiked as she worried about what this could mean; was this part of the hallucination? Was the universe telling her that Adrien was taking her heart away for good? That she’d never have him, but never be able to move on from him? No! She couldn’t accept that!

Marinette knew there was only one thing to do: she had to get her string back from Adrien before he stole it all away!

Alya, who was giving Marinette a concerned look, snapped in front of her face. “Girl, are you okay?” she asked, sounding worried. “What is it?”

Marinette gave Alya a serious, determined look.

“He’s taking my string away,” she declared with a frown, and Alya’s face pinched.

“Who’s doing what? Sorry, Marinette, but what do you mean?”

Marinette began speed-walking out of the door, leaving her things at the bench. “My string is following him, but I’m not gonna let him steal it from me!” she exclaimed, and hurried off in the direction of her string. She stared intently at the ground, watching as the string tangled and weaved through a mess of other ones. She couldn’t let it escape her sight!

Alya sighed and stayed behind. “Oh, no, don’t worry. I’ll get your stuff for you, Marinette!” she called. “And then you’re taking a nice long nap,” she muttered. Marinette ignored her as she hurried along until she caught up with the culprit, the thief of her treasured string.

Stopping in front of him, Marinette posed dramatically, sticking her hand out and demanding, “Adrien, give me my string back!”

The students in the hallway muttered to each other as Adrien stared at her with a completely perplexed look on his face.

“Give you what? Marinette, what’s going on?” he asked, sounding concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Marinette frowned, and her face went red in the usual fashion even as she stuttered out her defense. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by a pretty face, even if it was Adrien’s!

“String, you keep, uh, thief, uh, give it back!” She launched herself toward the string, grabbing it and pulling until she reached some invisible knot near Adrien’s finger. He flinched in response, looking hurt and surprised.

Nino, who was standing beside Adrien, looking confused, suddenly lit up. He reached out, stopping Marinette before she could untie the string and take it back.

“Marinette, wait! You said Adrien has your string?”

Marinette paused, looking at Nino suspiciously.

“Yes,” she said slowly. “He’s stealing it; I saw it follow him when he left class!”

Nino nodded, furrowing his brows as he came up with a response. “So, is the string still attached to your finger, too?”

Marinette blinked. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of checking!

She peered down at her own hand, stepping back from Adrien as she did so, and noticed a familiar red string still tied around her finger.

“Yes,” she answered as the gears in her head began spinning, “Yes, it is.”

Adrien choked, and Nino nodded, relaxing. “Cool. So, dude, it sounds like Adrien’s not stealing it, then, right? Since it’s tying you two together,” he said, elbowing Adrien with a small grin.

Adrien’s face turned bright pink. “Nino,” he hissed, looking embarrassed. Nino kept going, though.

“And if it’s your string, and it’s still attached to you, and it’s attached to Adrien, then that sounds like a soul-string to me. This must mean you guys are soulmates!”

Marinette stared at Nino, then at Adrien, and then at the red string still connecting her finger to Adrien’s.

“Oh, no,” she whimpered, the horror of what she’d almost done hitting her. She’d almost untied the string binding her soul to Adrien’s! What kind of half-rate, half-witted Seer was she? “Oh, no, Adrien, I’m so sorry! I—”

Just then, Alya came out of the classroom, walking up behind Marinette and offering her the backpack she’d forgotten inside.

“Girl, you are a mess today! Are you sure you— wait. What’s going on?”

Alya looked around at the huddle of students in the hall, who were still staring at Marinette, Nino, and Adrien.

It was all a little too much for Marinette, who’d had a very long day for someone who hadn’t gotten any sleep that past night.

She reached out and grabbed the bag from Alya. “Thanks-see-you-later-bye!”

Before anyone could say anything (before she could embarrass herself further), Marinette took off running towards her home.

It was, without a doubt, the worst morning of her life.

__*__*__*__*__

Finding out who her soulmate was by trying to untie the string binding them together was possibly the most embarrassing thing that had happened to her, Marinette reflected. It hadn’t even been the weirdest thing she’d done — jumping into a dinosaur’s mouth was definitely higher on that list — but she knew the morning’s events would be featuring in her nightmares for years.

She’d almost rejected Adrien, her true love, as her soulmate— by accident, but still! It was hard to fathom a more awkward situation.

Still, after a short lunch and a semi-refreshing nap, she shouldered her backpack and headed back to afternoon class, full of resolve. She couldn’t run away from the mess she’d made! She had to make sure Adrien knew she wasn’t upset that they were soulmates, and that she hadn’t meant to hurt him earlier.

She’d only tell him the color of their string if he wanted her to, though. After all, just finding your soulmate was a big enough occurrence; being told whether the soul bond was romantic or platonic might be too much to find out in one day, especially considering how the reveal had happened.

Marinette hoped Adrien hadn’t decided to stay home to avoid her after what she’d done. He’d seemed pretty overwhelmed by her sudden attack on the soul-string earlier, but not unhappy when Nino had figured out that Marinette and Adrien were soulmates, so maybe that was a good sign. He had seemed really embarrassed, though, about as much as she’d been, herself, so maybe he’d choose to stay home, after all. Goodness knew his father would be only too happy to keep him there.

She didn’t have to worry, though; as she walked onto the school campus, Marinette could already see Adrien standing by the stairs. He looked nervous, she noticed as she walked closer, and if she concentrated, she could feel a kind of tension in their soul-string. She swallowed, mustered up a smile, and waved somewhat awkwardly as she approached him.

Marinette paused there, not quite sure what to do or say, and her eyes flitted over to Nino, who was standing beside his friend again, in hopes of some hint or encouragement. Before Nino could react, though, Adrien stepped forward. He opened his mouth, but hesitated, flushing, and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand.

Then Marinette felt a slight push at her side from inside her purse. Tikki had encouraged her to tell the truth earlier, at home, and she knew the little kwami was counting on her to set things right.

So, Marinette mustered up all her courage and reached out for Adrien’s hand, the one with the string attached to it. Adrien looked up sharply, nervous and hopeful at the same time, if the emotions Marinette could lightly sense through their soul-string were correct.

“Hi, Adrien,” she said, smiling lightly as she shook his hand as if to introduce herself. “I’m Marinette, and it’s nice to finally meet you, soulmate.”

A brilliant smile broke out on Adrien’s face, and he pulled her into a hug as their classmates cheered around them. Marinette felt her face heat up, but the butterflies she felt in her stomach were happy ones, for once. After a long moment, Adrien finally stepped back, and Marinette noticed that his face was a bit pink, and it looked like he was crying. A spike of alarm shot through her, and she gripped his hands tightly.

“Are you okay?” she asked, feeling worried.

He squeezed her hands back, and Marinette felt a powerful thrum run through their soul-string.

“I’m more than okay, Marinette,” he told her, “I’m just so happy! You’re not upset you’re my soulmate?”

Marinette’s face hardened. “Never,” she vowed. “I could never be upset about that, Adrien! I’m glad you’re my soulmate.”

Adrien wiped a tear away from his eye, smiling. “This is the best day of my life,” he choked out.

Nino grinned and clapped his back. “I’m really happy for you, dude,” he said, and Alya, who’d come to stand by him and was holding her phone suspiciously like she did to take pictures of the heroes, nodded in excited agreement.

“I feel like a proud mother duck watching my babies swim for the first time,” she joked. “We need a better picture. Pick a pose, sunshines!”

Adrien’s eyes widened, and he hastily dried the rest of his tears away. “A picture? I can’t even think of any poses right now, I’m too excited!”

Alya hummed. “The model can’t think of any poses? Well, that’s fine, I can! How about you dance with him, Marinette? Use up that excited energy before you have to sit still in class!”

Marinette flushed, looking up at Adrien. “A-are you sure, Alya? I can’t even dance, not really, I’m so clumsy!”

“You weren’t clumsy at Chloe’s party, Marinette,” Adrien said shyly. “I thought you were perfect.”

He offered his hands to her, smiling shyly, and she slowly reached out to take them. Nino pressed a button on his phone, and the two of them began swaying to the gentle beat of the music that started to play.

Alya exclaimed and cooed over them, and as the final minutes before class ticked away, Marinette relaxed as she and Adrien began dancing more naturally. She fell into the lead almost by accident, and Adrien grinned up at her as she dipped him while the music swelled.

“Got your perfect picture, Alya?” she asked with a cocky smile as she spun Adrien around one more time.

“I think I do,” Alya confirmed, grinning at the two soulmates. “Should we head into class? I’m sure Nino can trade Marinette seats so you lovebirds can sit together.”

Adrien blushed and Marinette stuttered, but in the end, they slid into the first row together happily, smiling so brightly that even Ms. Mendeleiev seemed affected by the adorable scene, not mentioning the fact that they were a few seconds late to class the way she usually would.

As she sat in class, Marinette reflected on her crazy day. She’d gone to school after pulling an all-nighter, discovered her soulmate, almost untied their soul-string, and gone back to school and made it up to him. And her soulmate really was Adrien! Her day could hardly get any better, and now she realized that maybe the universe had been sending her a sign, after all.

If another Seer was going to find out her identity because of the soul-strings, it had probably happened by now. She was no more at risk than she’d ever been, and she’d have to get used to the new feeling of freedom and fear that knowledge brought.

But it was a good feeling overall, a really good one. Maybe she’d even offer to find Chat Noir’s soulmate for him and spread the joy she felt over to him, too! Marinette smiled at the thought of her partner gushing about his new-found soulmate to her. He’d be so happy when he found out about hers, too!

For now, though, she was happy just sitting next to her soulmate, holding hands under the table and taking pride in the happiness radiating from his end of the string. Today had been a good day, after all!

#and yes the title is inspired by 'follow the yellow brick road' XD #adrinetteapril2024 #ml fanfic #soulmates #adrinette #lovesquare #rosie-b writing #crack and fluff

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hee0soo · 5 months

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Match with you!

Pairing — Kang YeosangxTattooArtist!gnreader

Summary — You didn´t know what you expected to happen but this was definitly not it...

Genre — Idol! AU, TattooArtist! AU

Warnings — toothrotting fluff and feels

WORD COUNT — 1.9k

Note — This is my Secret Santa gift for @i-luvsang

I hope you like what your christmas fairy came up with...✨

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

In between recording songs, vocal and dance practice or filming content, it was rare that Yeosang had time to meet up with any friends he had! The fact that most of his friends were also idols who had their own schedules definitely did not help with that in the slightest!

The only person he did have time for no matter how busy his day was, was you!

You who he met during his early trainee days. You who managed to keep his best friend in check with a simple glance in his direction. You who always listened to his worries no matter how early in the morning it was. You who had the Idol wrapped around your pinky finger just by being yourself!

When he had first met you, Yeosang had not approached you for months and neither had you what reason did you have? To you, he was just another classmate of yours!

Only when you were partnered up for a project did you get closer. At first you were apprehensive which he could understand. All of his fellow students knew that he was a trainee under BigHit and While he did his best to stay on top of his classes he could see why you were hesitant to work with him, fearing that he would be to busy to contribute to the project and that you were going to be stuck working on it alone.

He had quickly proven you wrong and with every little snack he brought you l the boy with the heart of gold managed to worm himself into your heart.

From there on the two of you met up regularly to walk home together. Or well, you went home and Yeosang went to the company. It even went so far that you would purposely sit together in class.

That's also how he found out how well you could draw and sketch. Watching you doodle on the side of your note pad while the teacher went on with speech was the highlight of his school day!

"How can you draw so well?" he had asked in awe the first time he admired the motives on your paper.

You had only shrugged back then, not really knowing what to answer to that.

"I don't know."

And with that you had turned back to the little dragon flying around your notes, ignoring the feeling of Yeosang watching closely over your shoulder.

Time flew by and the two of you grew older. While Yeosang had continued training, meeting Wooyoung and eventually debut under a different label, you had stuck to drawing, starting an internship at an Tattoo parlor...

Fast forward to 2023, your skin was now covered in tattoos and you had a loyal clientele that visited the shop you worked at regularly to add to the collections on their skin!

The hobby you had as a student turned into a job and even when your parents had frowned at you and threatened to disown you, Yeosang had always been supportive! Never once doubting you!

It got so far that even Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung had been on the other side of your tattooing gun once or twice. The iconic soulmate tattoo on WooSan's knees being one of your pieces...

"y/nnn?" the deep drawl of Yeosang's voice broke through the trance you had found yourself in while drawing a commission request from a client. The outline of a snake wrapping its body around a bunch of roses appearing on the paper in front of you.

"Hmmm?" you hummed, not taking your eyes away from the paper as you hunched over it on practice room floor at the company building.

"y/nnn?!" he tried again as he lounged on his back, head resting against the armrest of the couch standing right behind you and more then unsatisfied that you had yet to react to his plea for attention.

Letting out a playfully suffering sigh as you turned your head towards the currently blond man, you shot him an amused scolding glare, finding yourself face to face with your best friends sparkly brown eyes.

"Yes Sangie?"

A pout formed on his lips. In the few hours he had been busy going over some of the groups old choreos, wanting to freshen up his memory a little before the stress of preparing for the next comeback could hit him in full. But as soon as you had wandered in, decked out in bags of snacks, drinks and drawing supplies, all plans of practicing had flown right out of the window and now, an hour later, he found himself in his current predicament.

Bored and unsatisfied as you ignored the puppy eyes he stared at the back of your head with!

Your mouth curved up into a teasing smile when you saw the soft glare that resembled a Maltese more then the Doberman he always tried to be for his fans!

"You're ignoring me!" he stated, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I'm working." you huffed and turned back to your drawing.

Yeosang grumbled, unhappy about having lost your attention again.

It fell silent again as you returned to focusing on your commission. Your best friend let out a suffering sigh as his eyes followed the movements of the pencil in-between your fingers, glide smoothly over the paper. He trailed is eyes up to admire the profile of your face over the slope of your nose down to your mouth, where your teeth were gently nibbling on your lower lip in concentration.

How your eyes lit up at the prospect of finishing your sketch, how they just seemed to shine brighter doing something you loved...

Oh how Yeosang whished you would look at him like that at least once!

The snakes face grew in depth as you worked on it's slitted eyes and the vocalist was once again stunned by your ability to breath life into something as simple as a drawing.

"Would you give me one?"

*What?*

Whipping your head around to look at his handsome face. You weren't blind! Of course you knew that he was handsome, ethereally beautiful even, always had been even as a young boy! He was, after all, an Idol known for his deep voice, dance ability and statue like beauty!

Still, that had never been the reason why you were so whipped for this man! It was the kindness he radiated that had drawn you to him in the first place. If you had to describe Yeosang in words, they would by kind, hard working, gentle, funny, intelligent and so many more...

The aloof demeanor he put on only being a facade to hide from prying eyes, hiding a man only few got the privilege to see...

His deep brown orbs were starring right back at you as you gaped at him like fish on land, waiting for an answer from you.

"You want a tattoo?"

Yeosang hummed in agreement, his baritone voice sending the butterflies in your stomach flying.

"Have you, uhm, talked to your manager about it? Like-"

"Not really but I trust you."

The statement meant more to you then you would like to admit. The words had left him as easily as breathing.

"I don't want to get you in trouble Sang-ah..."

Yeosang carefully studied your face. Worry for him was written all over your face.

He thought for a moment, remembering the contents of your bag like the back of his hand.

"What about a non-permanent one for now? With body markers?"

You put down your pencil, pushed everything to the side and turned your body to face him entirely.

"Did you have something in mind? Or do you want me to choose?"

"I want to match with you!"

His eyes wandered over your collarbone, down to your arms, littered with ink until he stopped at the small picture of a paw print. It was by far not your biggest or most astonishing tattoo but the one that meant the most to you. The one that was meant to represent the paw of a puppy. The one that was meant to represent him and the one you refused to tell him if it was supposed to be a Maltese or Doberman.

Yeosang sat up on the couch.

"You want a paw print too?" you asked confused.

He shook his head, bright blonde hair falling gently into his face.

"I want to have a kitten, so you have the puppy paw for me and I have the cat for you..."

His ears turned red at the admission and your best friend hid behind his hand, an awkward laugh ringing through the practice room.

"Sorry, it was just an idea and-"

"I'll do it!" you cut him off, giddy to start already. You patted the empty space next to you, urging him to sit there before reaching for the pencil case in your bag where you kept the markers.

"Come here and give me your hand!"

Yeosang did as he was told dutifully. He gingerly put his hand in yours and drew the outline of a tiny cat.

It was only a small drawing so you were quick to finish and looked up only to stare directly into the eyes of your best friend. Just inches away from your face!

Your eyes widened in surprise and his close proximity caused your heart flutter.

*When did he get so close?*

"Uhm? Yeo you-?"

Cut of by his lips softly pressing against your own, dropped the marker still sitting in your hand.

The touch was light like a feather and over again before you could react to his ministrations.

"I'm sorry y/n, I just..." Yeosang murmured as he pulled away, gazing at you with a dazed expression. The man didn't know what to say and neither did you.

Only then did you notice his hand still holding yours while his thumb was gently brushing over your skin there. He tried pulling his hand away but you didn't let him, instead you laced your fingers with his.

"Please don't be sorry!" you croaked, voice almost to quiet for him to hear.

"No y/n, please can we just forget this happened?"

Suddenly much less euphoric then before, you pulled away. His words hurt and suddenly you wanted to disappear. Did he, really think kissing you was a mistake?

"What if I don't want to forget it tho?"

Pain was evident with the way your voice wavered.

Yeosang didn't look away from you for even a second and he swore that he could hear something shatter inside of him. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you in any way but it seemed that he had managed to do exactly that.

The kiss wasn't a mistake in his eyes and while he wished it didn't happen like this, he didn't regret it at all!

"You don't?"

He was unsure if he had heard you correctly but a tiny part of him felt hope clawing, trying to be set free.

You shook your head. Instead of answering you leaned forward to catch his lips with yours. This time it was Yeosang who looked surprised.

"Does this answer your question?" you exhaled, tone breaking at the end.

Your best friend looked completely baffled by the kiss you had initiated and all he could do was nod while a dazed smile appeared on his lips.

"Yes, it does...”

Taglist: @marirose25

#cromernet #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x you #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez drabble #kang yeosang #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang x you #yeosang x you #yeosang headcanons #yeosang imagines #yeosang drabble #ateez fluff #yeosang fluff #divider by cafekitsune

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finisnihil · 2 months

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Hey guys so a while back I went insane and made a list of things we know about Luocha and the coffin entity that took an hour of scrounging every second of screen time and references to his person

These lists were made as of 2.1.

So what we know about the Coffin Entity TM:

•Is being delivered to the Xianzhou despite the fact nobody on the Xianzhou stores their dead the way this person is stored. Also, Lucoha hasn’t “delivered” it yet he still is carting it around despite being on the Xianzhou. It also seems whoever he’s delivering it to is of the Ten Lords Commission and he's aiming to go to the Xianzhou Xuling with it

•They met only once and it was during some sort of conflict Luocha became involved in

•The coffin is being delivered on somebody else’s behalf, possibly the deceased’s or another third party's

•The coffin entity is not considered a friend, lover, or relative

•Luocha proposed a deal of some kind that he’s still waiting to see the entity uphold

•The entity isn’t quite dead as it is temperamental and jabs Luocha with thorny vines when he upsets it. The coffin also has an emphasis on being silent as though whatever is in it can talk back and chooses not to

•Luocha considers their relationship a business one

•Luocha says he and the entity underestimated each other, particularly when Luocha proposed the deal

•He states he and the entity both wanted to use each other

And now, what we know about Luocha:

•He’s a wandering merchant who is registered with the IPC and the Xianzhou Yuque

•He seems to come from an aristocratic or wealthy background based on his clothes and speech and sword (An Épée which is used in fencing, a sport typically practiced by European royalty and the upper class since the 14th Century as that’s when the oldest fencing records seem to hail from)

•He’s considered an Abomination of the Abundance and he confirms his power stems from Yaoshi

•He has no home according to him

•He can heal both organic and inorganic life forms

•He’s looking into immortality of some kind which is interesting because he also seems to have a negative view of immortality and even notes Mara-struck being used as "sacrifices to the Abundance". He also says yearning for immortality as a short-life species is normal and to avoid doing so would be like killing an Aeon.

•He wants to kill Yaoshi

•He’s working with Jingliu to kill Yaoshi and I think Jingliu is the “other business” he had to attend to

•He isn’t the one who snuck on the Stellaron despite turning himself in for doing so. He says he delivered it without knowing its significance but once again he can can sense Stellarons so that doesn't hold much water.

•He doesn’t know VA (Void Archives)

•He he’s wary of Jing Yuan and tries to avoid to being watched by him

•He “changes his mask” so to speak to fit in different situations which matches the fact he goes by the alias Luocha when on the Xianzhou

•His clothes are that of his home world and he wears them “to remind him of the path he must keep treading”

•On his home planet he was involved with a church/church-based society

•His city was destroyed and he was perhaps the only survivor? Possibly related to the Knight of Purity Palace set?

•Many Xianzhou natives say he works and speaks like an older Xianzhou native

•He has a very similar design as Yaoshi

•Before he arrived on the Xianzhou he had a diviner tell him “not to be concerned with the destination, but to seize [his] chances and travel with the current to reap the greatest harvest”

•Luocha is an alias, not his real name, and he only goes by Luocha on the Xianzhou and his real name is noted to be a "tongue-twister" by himself and Jing Yuan

•He’s always wanted to visit the Herta Space Station

•According to Jing Yuan, he "isn't in any hurry to conduct business" and in Jingliu's quest he says Luocha didn't conduct any trade during his stay and his departure lined up with the calamities taking place

•He doesn't like seeing flowers wither but does later note "maybe it's not so bad after all"

•Jingliu says he's "just like her" in that he has a "hole" in his heart that no matter what he does he cannot fill it and just exhausts himself in the effort to do so

•He sells "uncommon trinkets"

•He considers friendship precious

•He typically doesn't get eye bags from staying up

•He's renting a like AirBNB type residence to stay in instead of the Petrichor Inn where he normally stays. He notes it "helps him forget his identity as a traveling merchant"

•One of his hobbies is observing and experiencing the Xianzhou natives' way of life

•He considers himself not great as opening conversations

•He seems to like wine as he left us some when he departed from the Express

•The flower that is his motif is a white lily which represents rebirth

•Jing Yuan admitted he outsmarted him

•Luocha has a weird motif in his related achievements of dancing (Coffin Dancer and Wardance: Épée Trial)

•He broke into the Shackling Prison but seemingly did nothing. Luocha states that in doing so he found the Luofu didn't have what he was looking for

•Jing Yuan mentions he's infamous for being involved in matters at locations called Eternity Fortress and Shroudveil Starzone which I can't find mention of anywhere, so I don't know these locations

•Dahao tells us that upon being arrested Luocha was charged with identity fraud and smuggling dangerous bio-merchandise among other crimes, which Dahao points out is weird and vague.

•He considers the Clous Knight's devotion to Lan as making them "closed-minded". He says there's other factions other than those of Lan who want Yaoshi dead and that they must "look to the source for the solution" to severing Yaoshi's curse

•He also has an understanding of traditional medicine and will write prescriptions for people

•He likes to do little kind things for people with no expectation of being recognized or praised for it

•He constantly stresses he's a noncombatant and while he can hold his own in small-scale conflicts he seems to rely on more experienced fighters in more serious ones and this is reflected in his sword which an Épée, a kind of heavy fencing sword

•He’s interested in and holds a great deal of respect for Elias Salas which is interesting because Elias Salas is notable for not wanting to extend his lifespan despite being able to and died at 103

I probably missed some stuff but I scrounged all this from lightcones, voice lines, character stories, relic backstories, quests, messages, trailers, etc. If I missed anything let me know! Some of these are obviously more relevant than others but if I missed anything let me know and I'll add it to the list!

I wish I could add the screenshots of where I got everything but posts have picture limits so if anyone's curious where I found certain information feel free to ask and I'll reply with where I found it.

Have a great day, mwah!

#honkai star rail #Luocha #Finis Analyzes #Am I insane for this? Probably #Doc was so tired of me #She will never know peace fr

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gynandromorph · 8 days

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god this shit took forever to sketch. another NofNA emulation comic. it reminds me of the midterms in secretary, for obvious reasons, but Legend is sort of an inverse secretary situation, where she is exceptional at fighting, but wants to write.

let me see what i can remember...

PS, the blue-eyed black lemur, has been friends with Legend since their mutual first season at college, as mentioned above her reference sketch... they probably became more friendly after being paired up to peer edit each others' work. PS has since graduated from college and works as a markscraft. Legend frequently commissions PS to scribe for her, not only because they are friends, but because PS is one of the few markscrafts in the area who isn't a rodent. many primates go into law or medicine. mainly Legend commissions notetaking in classes -- she is too insecure to share her stories. PS has a more relaxed, informal personality, and i tried to get that across -- i think it's relevant to why she decided to become a markscraft instead of pursuing more intense study. still, i also tried to get across that they are good friends, not just scribe and customer, particularly with the amount of touching that PS does. the impulse to touch and groom is probably innate for her as a primate. there isn't as much information about her species, but in ring-tailed lemurs, lemurs usually only groom based on the strongest bonds, rather than more communal aggregate grooming as a sort of social currency. i honestly don't know what PS would need to note during finals, but i think Legend just Wanted her there anyway.

the bird, DL, fighting the squirrel, GG, is a grey shrike. i imagine him as an average student in the middle of his education, but i think he is in the class for combat purposes, because pressure point manipulation can be incredibly powerful, more so if from a less expected species like a bird.

mr. deciding is a much more serious, no-nonsense teacher, possibly due to his specialty. when you're teaching students how to explode a kidney with a handshake, you probably just play it safe and try to put the fear of god into them before any kidneys get exploded. i wanted this class to have a much heavier emphasis on safety of the participants than the class in secretary, with a more focused goal than "who can beat the shit out of each other better." i think the goal of fighting to show off knowledge here is still Fucking Insane, but it's just. their culture, i guess. you can technically "move" your pressure points, so being able to defend yourself by utilizing this knowledge can also show off what you've retained. the mouse next to him is a proctor, who is an extra teacher brought in to judge and often write for another teacher, but primarily as a peacekeeper and bouncer. in classes where a student can theoretically totally disable a teacher by just touching them once, the precaution is seen as necessary. the mouse is probably a combat-oriented point invocation instructor.

the mandrill, MK, is a first-season or first-year student -- i assume that one class, from midterms to finals, is a season, as secretary seems to start near autumn. midterms have snow, and finals are during early spring. anyway, that's tangential. i think he's very new to the educational system. i pictured him as a medical student. in his fighting style, i made him more defensive; he doesn't really know nearly as much about attacking an opponent in a fight. he does think at least about his opponent's most immediate reactions, but doesn't have enough experience with fighting to think ahead to the degree that Legend does. you can see him make the same mistake that Legend did against Machinations, which disables his non-dominant hand. needless to say, he will probably always be aware of headbutt proximity now. he attempts to use two factures in the fight within a style meant to evoke debilitating vertigo by manipulating the connection between the occular, vestibular, and proprioceptive systems. it's obvious that he created the style from his medical classes. it is fairly empty as far as styles go. interrupted facture: nystagmus, which causes the world to spin around the opponent by involuntarily twitching the eyes back and forth. second facture: strabismus, which misaligns the pupils, primarily impeding aim. denied by Legend because a honey badger does not rely on vision or a vestibular system as much as a primate does -- not something he really considered when making the style. factures that never ended up being used: pursuit, which forces the target to follow a spinning image of themselves instead of looking where they should; and mask's lasting, which forcibly initiates saccadic masking, suppressing the intake of new visual information altogether.

the large bird is a bateleur. the mouse is just a regular house mouse. the lizard is an ornate sandveld lizard. the opponent of the lizard is a common mole-rat, also called an african mole-rat (even though most species of mole-rats live in africa). the monkey god i'm not super sure but i believe it's just a vervet monkey. the other mouse is also a common house mouse.

GG is a second-year student, which is the last year for a rodent. i think she's been kind of aimless -- she thinks incredibly fast as a squirrel, and finds solving problems in the moment to be a much more successful endeavor than trying to plan ahead. she doesn't worry about the future and doesn't ruminate on the past much. she's aware that she isn't the best ever and doesn't apply herself as much as others, but it also doesn't particularly bother her. kind of ironic, given the aesop she slops onto Legend after the fight. i imagine that she will eventually choose the name Serendipity. i tried to write her lack of foresight, but compensatory quick thinking in both fights. like the shrike, GG is a combat-oriented student. the style she briefly introduces at the beginning is called fanciful flower's delightful blight. it is based on the deadly nightshade flower and its berries -- which are toxic, obviously, and a hallucinogenic. squirrels flick their tails for many reasons, and the most common reason is simply a default flicking to attract predators. their tails are designed to "deglove" easily; if a predator lunges for their tail, which is the moving part of them, the skin and fur will tear off, and the squirrel can escape. delightful blight utilizes the attention-grabbing flicking of the squirrel's tail as a nightshade plant to induce a trance-like state. the berries represent temptations so much more pleasing than what you ought to focus on. a nice berry and a flower to smell are so much nicer than struggling in a fight. even when you resist them, they linger in your mind, and "plant seeds" when the berry falls as self-restraint is worn down over repeated abstinence from the temptation. factures induce hallucinations and nausea. she primarily uses the base rodent style to fight Legend here, but also uses base squirrel style twists, which include more acrobatics, backflipping, and contortions.

the two things that really catch Legend off-guard use limbs that she doesn't have, and most opponents don't have -- elbows long enough to use defensively, and a long, rope-like tail. she is otherwise supposed to be fairly adept at analyzing what an opponent will do, usually a few steps ahead, related to her ability to fabricate narratives quickly. you can see her also come up with a lie for kicking GG fairly quickly... she was going to say the impulse was in her legs because she was trying to move away from GG's strike.

anyway if any part of this fight is like... unfathomable i can probably explain. i've already been typing for way too long, lmfao

#nofna shitposting #partaking in the act #basically legend left her chest open because she expected GG to attempt to block #instead of considering that GG could take an offensive action instead

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dwcmarshalarts · 4 months

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Ewan Everett Figes has a family! His mother Helen is a professor of pre-exodus (from the Earth) literature at Parsinee University, Wipani planet. Older brother Wilson Frederick, i.e. "Fred" Figes is a journalist, who's worked his way up to co-editor of the Wipani Star, focusing mainly on foreign policy issues.

FRED FIGES Ewan's older brother (by 8 years) Wilson Frederick had been put-off from an early age from any kind of military service, to Everett's disappointment. Fred had a distaste for what he saw as a kind of "mind-numbing" obedience/deference to authority, and often got into rows with his father in the early days about the role of armed forces in various complicated engagements. He channeled this attitude into a career as a journalist, something that given his mother's background in academics was something the family "could accept." However, his chosen-topics still represented a long-running anti-interventionist streak that made for contentious family dinners, especially with his father and brother Ewan. He, his wife and daughter live in New Liege, Wipani.

HELEN FIGES Born Helen Carmodie, "Mrs. Figes" has had quite a storied life of her own. For being a professor in pre-exodus (from Earth) literature, Helen's demeanor is far from what you would expect from a book-cloistered academic. Her respectfully snarky attitude and occasionally foul-mouth ended up getting her a reputation as the "fun" professor at Parsinee, but she is the furthest thing from a stranger to whipping a class into order if need be.

She met Everett Figes while she was working part-time at a deli near the Bagstram Military Academy on Wipani. Her irreverent sense of humor and Everett's understated mischief combined made them inseparable despite their contrasting views, and the two would marry shortly after university. She would temporarily put her rapidly advancing university career on hold to raise their first son Fred, but eventually hit the ground running after a couple months leave. She would butt heads with Everett on what direction to raise Fred, but would ultimately win out softening his approach. By the time she had Ewan, she'd already been fairly settled in her career, and Everett and her had at this point reached a more reasonable understanding of balancing their parenting. Despite her many successes though, she would say her biggest mistake was never being able to wean Everett off of smoking, which largely led to his diagnosis with esophageal cancer in 2341, to which he would succumb in 2346, devastating the family, and especially their newly commissioned officer son Ewan. She would continue to persevere however as the new family matriarch, and would later become head of her department at Parsinee.

She lives on-campus at Parsinee University, Parsinee town on Wipani.

EVERETT FIGES Born on the planet Reggi, Everett Figes was the second generation career military man in his family after his father Frederick T. Figes. He'd spend the early days of his life in the typical athletic throng before attending Bagstram, the sector's lead military academy, and having to live off-world at Wipani.

As a parent, Everett's disposition could have been described as firm but not uncaring. Having always had issues showing vulnerabilities even to loved ones, Everett was unintentionally emotionally distant during most of his parenthood, only having a turn-around in raising Ewan (a fact that still bothers Fred after Everett's passing).

As far as his military career went, Everett spent a number of years directing different non-frontline Ground Forces engineering facilities before being transferred to active command of infantry. He never partook in any pivotal combat operations, or galactically significant theaters of war- something that he tried to change, but nonetheless couldn't by the time he received his diagnosis.

It was around that time then that he'd try to make amends with Fred, while Ewan would visit him every weekend from Bagstram. Fred was initially very resistant to this, but seeing him getting worse each time he visited, realized the seriousness of the situation

Everett is buried at the Field of Heroes on the grounds of the Bagstram Military Academy on Wipani.

Original art and story by DWC Marshal Arts

#furry #anthro #digital art #furry art #dwc marshal arts #sci fi #the percivals #illustration #furries #furry fandom #ewan everett figes #helen figes #fred figes #everett figes

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infamous-if · 1 year

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Do you have any kind of rough timeline of events leading up to BOTB and during BOTB? Kind of like, when MC met 7, the rest of the band, when the band formed (when/if the relationship happened and ended), when The Fight was, and BOTB stages?

Ah. I had plans to make a timeline and I completely forgot. It was a BIG request. (Lucky I had a draft saved)

Apologies to all non-Americans! I'll try to add their ages to make it a bit easier to understand for those who may not know.

Middle school (7th grade) (11 - 12 years old)

Seven and MC meet as they are in the same class and have assigned seats together. Somehow they missed each other last year but they get close very quickly!

Middle school (8th grade) (13 - 14 years old)

They graduate from middle school and are best friends at this point. They go to each other's houses and hang out often. Spent all summer together. MC's parents are beginning to get busier and Seven's dad's presence is growing more sporadic again.

High School ( 14 - 18 years old)

They enter high school and end up in the same class as Rowan, Devyn, Jazzy, and Iris who enters about a month later as she moved homes.

Seven and MC start getting into music as most youth™ do. Seven and MC run around their own circles but remain close. Talks of music grow and jokes about starting a band become less jokes and more planning. Somehow they all end up in a band and are actually practicing in Devyn's garage.

As they get serious they start doing gigs. Small ones like school dances and birthday parties for the kids around town. They work part-time jobs and Rowan commissions art to scrounge up money for actual instruments they own instead of renting them out from the school's band club. They start making their own original music.

They release their first EP to, like, 20 sales hahaha but it's enough for them to stop doing covers and start getting serious about original music.

They graduate and keep playing.

After High School

They start releasing more music and start growing a steady following. Their music grows in popularity and with their gigs, they can start quitting their jobs and doing it full time, though the money is still tight. They're on a steady incline that only escalates once they hit 21 years old and have full freedom to gig wherever they want.

This is up to headcanon but I like to think that Seven and MC began dating at 21 years old (for those romancing seven.)

22 years old

Seven and MC get matching tattoos (once again, I leave this to headcanon). The band grows in popularity.

23 years old.

The vote happens + things start to break down. The fight and Seven officially leaves the band.

24 years old

Orion comes into the picture. Seven spends their bday alone but eventually joins Soft Violence.

25 years old

All of them trying to make a name for themself. Soft Violence blows up with Seven as lead singer.

26 years old

BOTB auditions.

SO it's been 3 years since the Seven fight, 2 since Orion came in and Soft Violence formed.

Everything happened really fast, but I prefer that the pain and everything is still fresh!

#timeline #reference #inbox

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indignantlemur · 3 months

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Larger image (STRONGLY recommended): HERE The resolution on this is painful, so I'm including detail shots below the cut.

This meeting room was furnished many centuries ago by a renowned artisan who could carve stone and shells in stunning detail, and could shape and colour glass in a way that was never seen before and has never been replicated since. He took the secrets of his techniques to the grave, dying at an unexpectedly young age in a duel with a public safety official over the seizure of a rare and extremely toxic pigment imported from a Clan to the far south. His name was Kelenthor, and he was the only Clanless to ever attain such a high level of renown and fortune purely on his artistic talent. He lived during what would eventually be called the Post-Unification Andorian Renaissance. While this artisan was alive, he had a somewhat adversarial relationship with various officials and was known to use his art as a medium to mock and criticize his social betters. He was beloved by the general populace for exclusively taking on students from the lower social classes - almost as much as he was resented by the upper classes for his habit of hiding subversive messages in his commissioned works. Regardless of where one stood with Kelenthor, none could deny his talents. If you wanted the best of the best, Kelenthor was the one to commission. As such, he was eventually commissioned to design and create furnishings for a number of rooms and even entire buildings which are now used exclusively by government officials today or otherwise preserved as precious cultural works.

This particular room is widely regarded as his best work: the walls are conspicuously and almost insultingly plain, barely carved at all. At the centre of the room lies a heavy and imposing table of solid marbled stone - also barely ornamented, save some bevelling along the edges. The surface was treated with a substance which renders the stone almost entirely impervious to damage. No matter how one might rain blows upon it, barely a scratch remains to remember them by - much like many of the politicians who have sat at this table since its creation, which many believe was the subversive message behind the thing in the first place.

The focal points are the throne-like seats arrayed around the blunt instrument of a marble table, intricately carved and inlaid with precious shell and glasswork, iridescent and shining under even the faintest rays of light. Each scatters prisms randomly around the room, illuminating the shadows and often causing quite a few headaches when meetings stretch too long. More importantly, every single one of them was deliberately carved to be as uncomfortable as possible. No one in a position of power, Kelenthor once said, should be comfortable there.

First up, courting and wedding bands! Shral and Dagmar are only courting, so they have simple rings with minimal ornamentation, with Dagmar's being modified to fit as a cuff earring.

Thoris is married, so he has two bands on each antennae. Quite often marriage bands are more decorative and ostentatious than his, but Thoris isn't one for baubles and it's bad enough he has to wear these ridiculous robes. Frankly, if he could get away with just wearing his old Guardsman uniform to these meetings, he'd vastly prefer to. As such, his wedding bands are almost incongruously plain for his rank and status.

Next up, the lady and gentleman in the foreground! These two are Ministers, and high-ranking Andorians besides, so they ornament themselves rather loudly in comparison to our main cast's more sedate preferences. The lady on the left is Minister Zaathi, who we will be meeting in-fic very soon, and she's very fond of gemstones and carved hair beads - and not afraid of losing any, if she sheer number she's wearing are any indications. It's a weighted fashion statement, if nothing else, from a woman whose home province is small and relatively modest otherwise.

By comparison, Minister Bhael - on the right - is much more conservative in his ornamentation, but his robes are heavily embroidered and that is quite a lot of Andorian silk to be toting around. A closer look will reveal that his sleeves are embroidered with an ocean wave pattern, which is particularly interesting given the relationship Andorians have with the sea. Is it some kind of political statement, or just an odd choice of attire?

If those two are making statements with their sartorial choices, then Thoris has them all beat for layered meanings.

The silvery outer robes of office are closer to a cloak than a robe, with an inner layer that is belted around the waist and a loose outer layer that is joined to the inner layer at the shoulders and seams along the upper arms. This permits the maximum range of movement for the wearer. Being made of Andorian silk, which is several times stronger than Terran silk, it is an excellent means of protection against slashing and stabbing weapons. Despite their merits, however, Thoris loathes them. They're lightweight, sure, but they're still long and ostentatious and entirely too liable to get caught on something in a real fight. Sadly, they're also mandatory, or he'd have binned them ages ago.

The vibrant blue mid-layer is a heavy material, durable Andorian silk woven through with tiny filaments of something very similar to a carbon fibre composite, providing a measure of protection against many forms of projectiles, though less so against phase weapons. The innermost tunic is more obviously armoured than the other two layers, with panels mimicking an extensive chitin pattern along the length of the torso and forearms. The sleeves in particular draw attention to a very vibrant yellow flash - much like the chitin of the predatory veeg he is known for hunting in the past.

Next we come to Shral, who is obscured partially by shadow at Ambassador Thoris' right hand - and ready to draw his ushaan-tor at a moment's notice.

This is not standard armour for an Andorian, but rather something one might wear while sparring or training in their personal time. The armour takes the form of layered, almost beetle-shell like layers, layered over a long, cowl-necked tunic. The cowl is an unusual choice for sparring attire, as it provides a potential hand-hold for an opponent - only a very arrogant or a very skilled duelist would wear such a thing while sparring.

In contrast, Dagmar stands in the light on Thoris' left. Her working attire is lightly embroidered, and features large, pearly buttons - but otherwise she's almost conspicuously plainly dressed. Hyper aware of how shockingly pink she is in comparison to everyone else in the room, Dagmar wears muted and neutral colours to try to off-set how glaringly alien she is - which, ironically, only serves to highlight her differences even further.

@the-lady-general @starrynightgardens @emilie786 @horta-in-charge @emochook @velvet-luvie @creature-of-the-stars @unknownfacelessfanfictions @auroramagpie

#star trek #emigre by indignantlemur #andorian #andorians #digital art #headcanon #An Eventful Meeting by IndignantLemur #ambassador thoris #Anlenthoris th'Kor #Vilashral of Clan Hrisvalar #Shral #Dagmar Gunnarssen #Kelenthor the Clanless

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kywaslost · 1 year

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ok- idea:

you’ve always helped bakugou. with his confidence, with his personhood, with nightmares, and whether he’d ever say it or not, he appreciates it. a lot. so you can safely bet that he’s just ITCHING to pay you back.

except, you won’t let him. you refuse to. something happens, you can make it up- maybe a mission goes bad, you have family or friend troubles, maybe just plain ol’ insecurities, but you’re SO stubborn with it he could call you a hypocrite. but it doesn’t deter him- he keeps trying. he tries, and tries until he finally gets it from you. the night you give up he thanks you for letting him in and holds you, keeping you in the warmest, softest embrace as he promises to the moon and back that he is there and he will keep you from harm, just as you did with him <3

Let Me Return the Favor - Bakugou

A/N: Hi! I love this request so much!! I hope you enjoy it! I also hope you don’t mind that I kinda made this really self indulgent since I’m currently going through friend troubles and having a hard time working my way through it. Sorry!

Reader had a boyfriend at one point.

God this turned out so much longer then I thought ☠️☠️☠️

You first met Bakugou when he was kidnapped by the League of Villains. Strange, I know. But you were another captive and the League wanted you to join them, just like they did with Bakugou. During your time with him, the two of you learned a lot about each other. He’d get loud to cover up his stress and worry, often portraying his emotions as anger. Bakugou learned that you stayed quiet in times of stress and worry.

When Bakugou’s friends came to rescue him, they rescued you too. You watched the fight between All Might and All for One from afar, clinging to the back of Bakugou’s shirt. Whether it was to comfort him or yourself, you weren’t sure.

Aizawa and Principal Nezu managed to get you into class 1-A when they realized that you had the potential to become a hero. And you had experience. That’s what surprised them the most. You were the child of a pro hero, one that would take you out on patrol with them. They were a teacher at Shiketsu, so you'd spend a lot of time around heroes in training.

During your time at UA, you spent a lot of time with Bakugou. Both of you had at least a bit of trauma from the kidnappings and being near each other brought about some source of comfort. You used this time with him to try and build his confidence. The two of you spent most of the day at the gym, taking your emotions out on either each other or the equipment. Nights were spent in his room, talking about things.

If any of Katsuki’s classmates were to hear of this, they’d think Toga was the one they brought back. Katsuki talking to someone about how he feels? No way. But it was true. He learned to trust you so much that he once came to your room in the middle of the night crying because he had a nightmare. Nightmares were his biggest issue and most of them were about him being kidnapped, so he went to you for comfort.

Bakugou wouldn’t admit it to anyone but you, but he was so unbelievably grateful for you. You’d helped him through his nightmares, walked with him to and from his therapy appointments, and overall just calmed him with your presence. He felt bad, though, because he couldn’t return the favor. It’s not that he didn’t want to, he really really did, but you wouldn’t let him. You pushed him away, in fact. It’s what made Katsuki itch more and more to finally return the favor.

Katsuki knew a bit about your personal life. You’d told him about your parents and how your dad was a pro hero. How you visited Shiketsu but were never enrolled. How you got your hero training from both your father and the commission (though you never went into detail about the commission part, always changing the subject). But he probably knew the most about your friend group from the normal civilian high school you went to. He paid so close attention that he could list all of their names and your relationships with them. There was your ex boyfriend, who was your best friend for 12 years until you dated but then you broke up with them to work on your mental health. Then there were the several girls you hung out with. You’d told him how you’d become close friends with each of them and spent too much time with them. It was almost as if you always talked about at least two of them a day.

But then you stopped. At first it was gradual. You only talked about certain friends instead of all of them. And then Katsuki noticed how your mood changed when you talked about them. You used to get all excited and happy when you mentioned things you had done with your friends, or get really loud and hyper when you talked about upcoming plans with them. But now you were quiet, often avoiding Katsuki’s eyes when talking about them. You started saying less and less things about your friends and didn’t act as excited as you used to when you mentioned upcoming plans with them. It was strange.

And then you stopped talking about them altogether.

To be honest, it bothered Bakugou to see you this way. You rarely leave the dorms now, choosing to spend most of your time either with him or alone in your room. You were a lot quieter and you didn’t look as alive as you used to. Bakugou tried to talk to you about it, to ask what was wrong, but you’d just brush him off. Your excuse was that you were tired, giving him a small smile and then excusing yourself to go to your room.

What pushed him over the edge, though, was when you returned to the dorms one night on the verge of tears. Your eyes were red and puffy. You’d most likely been crying on your way back to campus. Bakugou was the first to notice your arrival, and then the first to notice your distress. He immediately left his spot on the couch next to Kirishima to stand next to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

In the background you could hear Mina and Denki making fun of Katsuki for ‘being too soft around you’.

You simply brushed Bakugou’s hand off of you and continued walking to the elevator. That didn’t stop Bakugou from following you, though. “Y/N, wait up.” His voice was gentle and soft as he barely managed to catch the elevator with you.

He watched you from the opposite side of the small space. Your head was hung low and you were sniffling quietly. Bakugou was getting nervous. Has something happened to you while you were gone? You’d said you were going to your best friend’s house just to hang out with your friend group. But that’s all he knew. Did you get into a fight with them? Was there a run in with a villain? Did something trigger a bad memory from your kidnapping and you were left to deal with it on your own?

Katsuki shook his head to clear his thoughts. All he had to do was ask. He was working himself up over it. “Y/N, are you alright?”

He watched you. Katsuki watched as you wiped at your eyes and then sniffled again, keeping your gaze on your favorite pair of shoes. They were dirty and muddy. It must have been because of the storm that hit a few days ago. “I’m fine.” Your voice was quiet and shaky. What had happened to you?

“We aren’t allowed to say that,” Bakugou said, clearing his throat. “Remember? You said that I’m not allowed to say ‘I’m fine’. You said that I had to be honest with you. So be honest with me.”

You shook your head, glancing up at the floor number. 3rd floor. Only 3 more to go.

“Don’t worry about it Bakugou. I’ll be ok.”

“But you don’t look like you are now.” He had to keep pressing. Finally, it was his chance to help you. To comfort you the same way you’d comforted him all those times before. “Let me be there for you Y/N. Just talk to me.” His natural crimson eyes tried to meet your unnaturally red ones, but you turned your head away.

The elevator dinged, signaling your arrival to the fifth floor. “No, Bakugou.” You stepped out of the small enclosure and quickly made your way to your bedroom.

It wouldn’t hurt to give you some space, so that’s exactly what Bakugou did.

When he still hadn’t heard from you and hour later, he grew even more worried. You didn’t come down for dinner so Bakugou fixed you up a plate with foods he knew you liked and brought them up to your room. He knocked on the door but did not receive a response.

“Y/N?” he called quietly. “You in there?” Silence. He knocked again. “Y/N?” Still no response. With a sigh Bakugou slowly lowered himself down onto the floor and leaned against your door. He placed your plate down beside him. “You missed dinner so I brought you a plate.” He chuckled softly to try and lighten the mood. “Don’t worry, I made sure your food’s not touching.”

Katsuki sat there for a bit longer, listening for any signs of movement or life coming from your side of the door. “Listen, I don’t know why you won’t talk to me about things like this. About what’s been making you cry the past few weeks. I can see it in your eyes every night I come to say goodnight, or when I come in during the night. Something is bothering you. You know, if it’s nightmares you can tell me right? Just like how you taught me to come to you.” He paused for a moment. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re alright in there. Until I know that you’ve stopped crying.”

At those words he could hear you burst into tears from behind your door. Jumping to his feet, he knocked again. “Y/N? I’m coming in, ok?” Twisting your door handle slowly, he pushed open your bedroom door. Your lights were off, the soft glow of the sunset drifting in through your closed curtains. But Bakugou expected it. You hated artificial light. You almost never had your lights on.

As he scanned your room Bakugou found you curled into a ball at the head of your bed, wrapped up in your weighted blanket and trying to muffle your sobs with the stuffed animal you made with your friends over the summer at Build-A-Bear. His eyes softened with worry. “Oh, n/n.” Bakugou gently closed the food behind him and then took three large steps over to your bed. He lowered himself down on the mattress beside you, scooping you up and placing you in his lap. You’d done this for him once, just after his first nightmare after being rescued. You held him close to your chest and ran a hand through his hair, letting him cry into your nightshirt. So that’s what he’d do for you.

Untangling you slightly from your blanket, Bakugou adjective you so you were laying against his chest, face buried into the crook of his neck. He could feel your tears run down into the space between his neck and clavicle, then down to soak into his shirt. You had let go of your stuffed animal, it falling to the ground beside your bed as your hands moved to wrap around Bakugou’s torso and grip the back of his shirt. Katsuki ran one hand through your hair as another ran comfortably up and down your back. He rested his head on your own. He smiled softly. He knew he shouldn’t be because it could come off wrong, but he was just so happy you had finally let him help you the way you had helped him.

“Shhh,” he cooed softly. “It’s ok. I’m here now.” The more he held you, the more you cried and your breathing was becoming more staggered and irregular. You were about to send yourself into a panic attack if Bakugou couldn’t calm you down. “Heyyy, shhhhh.” The hand that was in your hair suddenly settled itself on the back of your neck, rubbing gently. “Breathe, Y/N, breathe.” Bakugou took in long, deep breaths, hoping you’d feel his chest rise and fall beneath yours. “You’re starting to hyperventilate. Breathe with me.”

Katsuki led you through a couple breathing exercises you and his therapist had taught him, eventually calming your breathing and your tears. His shirt was drenched in your sweat and tears but he didn’t mind one bit. As long as you felt better, that’s all that mattered to him.

“You feel really warm,” he said softly, feeling your forehead with the hand that was on the back of your neck. “Let’s get you cooled off, yeah?” Bakugou slowly stood, cradling you in his arms as he pulled back the curtains to your balcony and opened the door. The cool night air blew the hair out of his eyes as he stepped out into the darkness. Katsuki knew you kept one of those lounge chairs out there, like the ones you’d find at the beach. Once he found the piece of furniture he gently sat you down on it. Crouching down in front of you, Bakugou’s soft gaze met your tired one as he brushed your hair away from your face. “I’m going to get you some water and a cool rag. I’ll be back, I promise.”

Without thinking Bakugou placed a quick kiss to the crown of your head before leaving you alone out in the cool night air. And just like he said he would, he returned not too much longer with a bottle of water, a wet rag, a bottle of pills, and a small snack. He was wearing a different shirt now, too. Sitting down on the ground in front of you, Katsuki opened the bottle of water and gently pressed it into your hands. “Here. You need to rehydrate.” Once he made sure you were going to drink the liquid he opened the bottle of pills, spilling a few into his hand before passing them over to you. “And these are for the headache I’m sure you’re going to get. Now drink all of your water.”

Once you had finished off the bottle Bakugou moved to sit beside you. He opened the small snack he brought and his warm hands brushed against yours as he passed it to you. “Eat. You missed dinner.” As you slowly ate your favorite snack Bakugou brought the cloth up to your face. “Can I touch your face?” You nodded slightly and Bakugou began wiping under your eyes. He took his time, wiping away the many trails tears had left across your blushed cheeks. Then he worked his way across your nose and up to your forehead. When he was finished he pressed the rag against the back of your neck.

“How do you feel?” he asked softly. “Any better?”

You cleared your throat and sniffled slightly. “Yeah. I do.” You offered him a small smile. “I needed that. Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Bakugou responded, giving your knee a gentle shove. “You’ve helped me so much. This is just me returning the favor.”

“Bakugou?” Your voice was so soft and timid. “Can…” you sighed in frustration with yourself. “Can I have a hug?”

Bakugou smiled, then opened up his arms. “C’mere.” You dove into his arms as he held you tightly yet again. Bakugou shifted around to get more comfortable, then pulled you to lay down on top of him as he laid back in the chair. “You don’t ever have to ask me for a hug, n/n.” As the two of you sat in a comfortable silence Bakugou asked, “What’s gotten you so worked up anyway?”

You took a moment to think, then you sighed. “It’s my friends. They haven’t been treating me very well.”

Bakugou’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean? How so?”

You held Bakugou a bit tighter. “We’re going to be here a while.”

You felt Bakugou shrug beneath you. “Tomorrow’s Saturday. We have all the time in the world.”

You snuggled closer to Katsuki, preparing yourself for a lot of explaining. “They’re all beginning to ignore me.”

“All of them?”

You nodded. “All of them. When they’re all texting in the group chat and I send a message, it goes completely unnoticed. Or when I’m the first to text no one answers. I’m either left on delivered or opened. Remember when I was sick last week?”

“Sure do. I thought you were dead, you slept so much.”

You giggled at Bakugou’s response. “Well, only one person said anything when I texted the chat. But when Emily was sick a few days later everyone responded several times reminding her to take tests when she got back, sending hearts, or saying that they hoped she’d feel better. But I got nothing.” Bakugou ran a hand down your back again, beginning to feel you working yourself up again. You took a deep breath and continued. “No one talks to me outside of school, and even then only a few do.”

You spent the next hour explaining how each friend had hurt your feelings, or how they had done something they probably shouldn’t have. Bakugou encouraged you the entire time, though, continuing to rub your back or reminding you to breathe when you were working yourself up again.

It was almost midnight when you finished filling Bakugou in on everything between you and your so-called friends. When you were done, Bakugou removed the cloth from the back of your neck and then did something unexpected. He held you as tightly as he could, burying his face into your hair. “I promise you Y/N that I will never treat you the way that those extras have treated you. I’m always going to be here for you. Just like you have been for me.”

You couldn’t help falling asleep on Bakugou. His ambulance was just so warm and welcoming and it helped battle the chill of the cool night air. It didn’t help that when he changed shirts, he changed into a hoodie that smelled so strongly of him that you felt safe, like nothing could ever harm you.

Bakugou wasn’t aware you’d fallen asleep on him at first. He was confused when you didn’t respond to him, afraid he may have said the wrong thing but then his eyes landed on your closed ones and he relaxed slightly. “Damn nerd, falling asleep on me out here in the cold,” he quietly teased. “Let’s get you inside.” He maneuvered you around so he could pick you up, cursing quietly when he thought you had woken up. “No no no, go back to sleep,” he cooed quickly, pulling you back to his chest and resting a hand on the back of your head. “It’s alright. I’ve got ya. Go back to sleep.” He sighed in relief when your eyes stayed closed.

Bakugou stood, carefully carrying you back inside and laying you down on your bed. He made sure to close and lock the balcony doors, drawing the curtains closed like you liked them. Katsuki bent down, carefully picking up your stuffed animal from earlier before he slid into bed next to you. Pulling your weighted blanket up around the both of you, he also placed your stuffy in your arms before pulling you back against his chest.

You’d helped Bakugou in more ways than he could count. He was just happy you’d let him help you just this once. :)

#comfort #bnha #bnha comfort #x reader #platonic #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou #bakugou x reader comfort #bakugou katuski x reader #soft bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski #mha bakugou #baku #kacchan #mha comfort #domestic bakugou

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iamsonny-j · 4 months

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This was originally going to be in reply to @glowinggreeneyes-e post about the Captain's education and career path...but then I got carried away because I'm so normal about this stuff so it's now its own post...with added angst because I have no control over any of this, my brain just goes.

So for a start the Captain would have gone to a public boarding school. I think it's worth pointing out that public schools and universities operated scholarships for students from less wealthy backgrounds. We're still talking middle class and upper middle, but not always full on wealthy and privileged in the way of someone like Julian. Cap strikes me as having the background of a family well enough off but he probably always had to work hard to prove himself for his place, maybe not so much for public school but definitely for university.

Whatever school he attended would have had an Officer Training Corps junior division. Basically cadets. This would lead to the possibility to do an exam (written and practical) to get what was called certificate A to show he had participated in the OTC.

From the Button House Archives it says Cap got to the front in WW1 at armistice and so never saw action. So I imagine he finished his studies at school in the summer, enlisted and completed basic training, and then was out to Europe just in time for things to end. Because he got his certificate A at school he had the option at university to join the OTC university division. This was a route to becoming a commissioned officer. You either needed certificate A or experience in the ranks to join. For the sake of argument, serving in the army for a couple of months wouldn't count as experience so he must have had the certificate A...

University options at that time were limited to Oxbridge, Durham or London. All of those had OTC. I think London can be ruled out...only because it was busy, loud and ugly, even then (sorry London friends!) and the Captain likes wildlife and the countryside and nature walks...I can't see him thriving in London.

Training with the OTC at university involved physical training, military strategy, history and law etc. The Captain would have had to complete 2 years training before he could have done exams for his Certificate B - practical and written. Passing the exams would have entitled him to a commission on graduation. Getting Certificate B wasn't common because of the amount of work involved and dedication required to be successful. It was hard!

Like I want to point out that to get that far would have required so much effort and dedication right from being a child. And this is where I will get sad and headcanon-y for a bit (let me have this one thing out of all this research!)

Bullying and abusive rituals were a big part of public school life at this time and any boy seen as even slightly different would have been targeted for sure, even by some of the teachers. So although Cap comes across as clever and capable at what he knows I think school would have been socially really freaking hard. For a child in that situation I could see the OTC being a respite and something the Captain would have found very comforting with the set rules, order and expectations and from there you can understand why career army would have been appealing...

And I think that's when things get a bit complicated. The army was his life but in a different way to officers who wanted to be on the front line, like Havers. Obviously Cap worked extremely hard for his commission - and he was obviously very well qualified and knowledgable in his areas of interest, but he was always ever going to be best at HQ tasks like intelligence or engineering or whatever his particular career skills were - loving the army in theory, but some of it would have always been out of his reach. And I think being in a public school during WW1 and hearing of so many former pupils (some he would have known personally as seniors, prefects or head of houses) losing their lives on a daily basis during WW1 would have had a huge effect on him and probably influenced some of the guilt about not having the opportunity to fight himself, but ultimately I think he probably knew that wasn't his part to play even with WW2.

And I think all that that shows in his interactions we see in his past as CO - he was obviously doing a good job at whatever secret little operations he had but he really didn't have the skills/personality needed to be a CO. Having someone like Havers as a second hid that (and that's also seen in Havers getting 2 promotions in 4 years...he was much more of a natural CO) and I wonder if a lot of affection that Cap had for Havers originally came from the fact that Havers not only respected him as CO but he was also just kind to him and saw a person worthy of affection - rather than the CO that everyone tolerated but secretly disrespected and laughed at (just look at how all the other officers couldn't wait to come down on him in 5.05)

And then he lost Havers. But still had to command up to 150 men and operations at Button House for the next 4 years. And it's obvious from the letters and information in the Button House Archives that he really REALLY did try and I think with considering everything it's no wonder he overcompensates a lot and that's where he's at in the first couple of seasons of Ghosts; fighting for authority and trying to do his best.

Last sad point because it does relate: When he died Havers gave Cap the swagger stick to hold - Havers still called him 'Sir' even though he outranked him at that point. I don't know if I can begin to unpick all of that, but there's definitely something in there about respect, belief and the burden of responsibility that he clearly took seriously into his afterlife not wanting to let Havers down both personally and professionally.

If you read all of this I love you and respect you and appreciate you for appreciating my level of not normal xD

#bbc ghosts #the captain #i missed sharing infodumps so much #please feel free to add

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knifedancer · 6 months

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Unsigned Gifts

Marinette has a secret admirer that keeps giving her really thoughtful gifts with no signature. But who is it?

The five times Marinette received unsigned gifts and the one time she guessed who all the gifts were from.

AO3 Link

~~~First~~~

It all started one day when Lila and her lackeys broke her favorite marking pens. Not that she had any proof, except for the cruel light in Lila’s eyes and the way certain classmates weren’t meeting her eye – and hiding their hands in their laps – as she discovered the mess near the back of the classroom. Marinette had returned to the classroom after lunch and found the set of marking pens that her grandmother given her snapped in half, their vibrant inks smeared into a grotesque brown all over her desk surface. Luckily it wasn’t the whole set, but her favorite colors were in her bookbag for work on a commission… The bluenette hid her glistening eyes, not allowing a single tear to escape, as she began to wipe what she could from the desk. Her only response a silent nod when Madam Bustier, whom assumed it was not caused by someone else, told her that she needed to stay after school to make sure it was properly clean.

Honestly, she was glad to be alone after the last bell rang. The room was empty and silent except for the ticking clock on the wall. It gave her some private moments to let out those tears that she kept hidden – she would never let anyone see her cry from their bullying attempts – while she mindlessly went through the movements of scrubbing the tabletop. The gentle rasping sounds of the cloth against a hard surface and the familiar circular motions, long ingrained from cleaning parts of the bakery, gave the pigtailed girl a sense of Zen. It was oddly calming for all the emotions she had bottled up inside her earlier; at least she would not be visited by an akuma today. When she was finally done, she gathered up the empty cleanser bottle, dirty rags, and mangled pens to dump in the garbage near the teacher’s desk. Marinette gave one last sorrowful look at the pens, recalling all of the designs she had illustrated with them and the joy she had felt receiving them from Grandma Gina… On the bright side, they had not found her precious sketchpad to ruin. The designer wiped her damp cheeks with her jacket sleeve before dropping the pens into the can with a sigh. She trudged out of the class and down the steps, completely missing a pair of calculating eyes that watched her from the shadows…

At the end of the next day, Marinette found a brand-new set of expensive Copic Marking Pens and five Bosco Wood pencils tucked into a simple pink ribbon bow on top in her locker, no note was attached. She looked around, feeling eyes watching her but not seeing anyone standing out in the crowd of random students gathering their things and chatting with friends. She reverently touched the beautiful clear case and hugged it to her chest, a small genuine smile gracing her features as she imagined all the stunning designs she would make, before tucking them safely into her bookbag. Perhaps one of her classmates felt bad for what happened and wanted to remain anonymous for fear of Lila? Whatever the case, these would be safer in her room.

~~~Second~~~

A few days later, Marinette sat at one of the tables in the library during lunch, off in her own world with her headphones playing the latest Jagged Stone single just loud enough for her to block out any passing sounds but low enough not to disturb others. She found it easier to focus on her work not surrounded by her former friends and the kindly librarian allowed her to eat at the tables so long as she didn’t make a mess. Today the designer was working on a dress for Clara Nightingale’s next award show appearance. The overall look was done but the colors… She tapped the end of her new oak pencil against her lips as she contemplated. The margins on the page were filled with tiny smudges of carefully erased notes. She pulled out her phone, looking through various Pantone color chip options through Qwant. Unfortunately, like with all electronics, the inherent settings and hardware capabilities altered the tones just slightly – making the decision even harder.

“I wish I could afford those Pantone Color chips…it would make it so much easier to choose,” Marinette murmured to herself with a sigh. “Perhaps I can buy one with the money Maman’s family will send me for New Year but that’s still months away...”

The five-minute warning bell signifying the end of lunch rang, pulling her from her thoughts. The girl packed her sketchbook and headphones away before sweeping any remaining crumbs and rubber shavings into her empty lunch containers, then headed off to class without a second thought to the other students meandering through the book stacks or lining up to check out something last minute. Her mind was elsewhere, dreaming of which colors would combine best to fit Clara’s style and still wow people on the red carpet, when she knocked into something solid. Marinette’s elbow was caught in a firm grip before she fell backward, finding herself hauled up against a familiar grey vest.

“Hello Angel, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” came the smug voice of the other blond boy in her class. Just great. She righted herself with a scoff, rolling her eyes at his ridiculous pick-up line while brushing imaginary wrinkles from her blazer. She knew he was only doing it to get a rise out of her but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of losing her temper.

“Not as much as when they kicked you out of hell, Felix,” she replied sweetly as she pulled away.

“Are you saying I’m hot?” he asked with a predatory grin.

“You’re about as hot as a dumpster on fire and only half as pleasant!” Marinette sing-songed before quickly brushing by him and walked back towards class, missing the playful look on his face as he followed her at a respectable distance. She settled into her seat with a huff, zoning out while Madam Bustier droned on about the Revolution, the girl’s mind lost in the details for Clara’s dress once again.

The next gift unexpectedly appeared at lunch the next day. The librarian called her over and presented a small parcel wrapped in pink striped paper. “This is for you, dear.”

“What? Who…,” began the confused bluenette. She spied a small, unsigned tag with her name on it taped to the top. The tag itself was not handwritten, instead seemed to have been made on a typewriter. Who, besides her Grandpa Roland, even owned one of those anymore?

“Sorry but I don’t have any idea. It was left here with just your name printed on the card while I was busy with a phone call. Seems you have an admirer, dear!” chuckled the librarian as she patted the girl on the shoulder, then went back to sorting a stack of returns for reshelving.

Marinette settled the parcel on her usual table, carefully unwrapping to preserve the lovely paper for another of her crafting projects. She pulled off the lid of the plain white box and unfolded the tissue paper inside – her breath caught in her throat. Inside were four Pantone Color Guide fans for fashion and home design, each with 350 different swatches, in every shade of the rainbow. Her fingers trembled as she lifted one from the safety of its tissue bed, fanning it open with a look of awe. Who had done this? First the pens, now this… She was overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude, her face lighting up with palpable joy as her mind buzzed with questions and plans.

‘I need to take these home, immediately!’ she thought, returning the Pantone guide back to the same spot she had pulled it from. She closed the box and pressed it to her chest as she quickly departed from the library, barely preventing herself from bumping into a student that was about to depart through the doorway. She threw a quick “sorry!” over her shoulder as she ran, only catching a blur of gold hair in her periphery as she exited the school.

~~~Third~~~

A couple weeks later, after the commission for Clara was done, Marinette found herself with some free time on the weekend. Time to find a nice spot to draw! She had planned to wander through the park near her house, but discovered Adrien was doing a photoshoot with Lila. She rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something rotten. Not that she didn’t still enjoy watching Adrien’s photoshoots – on the contrary, it was fun to see the modeling process and clothes – but the motivation had changed. She had found her feelings for the model fading as time went on; eventually she accepted that it was a temporary obsession rather than love that she felt. Being around him wasn’t as awkward as she expected but she preferred to avoid being around Lila – which meant not hanging out with Adrien as much as he was constantly around her due to his father’s wishes.

She hummed softly and turned on her heel, deciding to seek out another spot that might inspire her. The pigtailed girl wandered along the Siene, giving a friendly wave to Andre the ice cream vendor as she passed and enjoying the light breeze against her cheeks. She decided her time would be best spent at the Luxembourg Gardens – it had been a while since she had visited. Marinette took a deep breath as she meandered along the sunlight paths, surrounded by trees and flowers, the calming effect of the garden and architecture washing over the secret bug-themed heroine with each step. She found a bench near one of the buildings that caught her eye, settling down with one of her drawing pencils and losing herself to the sketching of various designs that began to form in her head. A few gowns inspired by flowers and the stream nearby, jackets and hats noted with colors of the various leaves overhead, but what appeared the most on the pages were men’s three-piece suits with embroidered vests… Marinette paused, gazing at the newest vest she had drawn. Deep twilight blue, bordering on black; with barely imperceptible golden and green abstract detailing that was vaguely reminiscent of peacock feathers.

It reminded her of Felix for some reason – not just the vest itself but the stylization she had added. She glanced up to the building again, taking in the architecture with a discerning gaze. It and part of the surrounding garden was of English design, merging in with the French touches seamlessly. Adrien’s cousin was from London, perhaps that was why it reminded her so much of him… She dropped her gaze back down to the page, her eyes widening as she realized she was unconsciously doodling Felix’s face and shoulders into the vest she had created. It was rough but the sketch – hair, jawline, and the beginning curve of a grin – was distinctively him. Marinette’s cheeks pinked at the realization, hurriedly attempted to flip the page only to discover it was the last sheet. Her book would need to be replaced!

“Well,” she said as she closed and halfheartedly tucked the pad away, “looks like I’ll have to buy a new sketch pad with my allowance next Friday.” With one last look at the beautiful garden around her, she began her journey home through the afternoon crowds. Marinette failed to hear the soft plop behind her as her sketchpad fell from her bag until she was back in her room. She returned to search for it with no luck, lamenting the loss of her work but hopeful that her luck – Tikki’s really – might just bring it back to her. After all, this was why she always wrote her name and address on the inside cover. Someone must have found it and would turn it in!

At school the following Monday and Tuesday, she relegated herself to making little doodles on her notebook’s lined paper. Nothing too serious or professional – little flowers and birds that she remembered seeing at the Luxembourg Gardens, black cats chasing peacocks through a field of flowers, ladybugs on leaves cleaning their antennae or snoozing in a pollen covered pistil bed... She didn’t want to waste a great design on paper that was too thin to accept her bold pencil strokes, not to mention whatever was left would not withstand the colored marker ink without becoming an oversaturated, soggy mess. At one point Marinette caught Felix staring over her shoulder at her drawings during free period; she was so taken aback that she was at a loss for words as his green eyes met hers.

He propped his elbow on the desk and casually rested his chin in the palm of his hand, his trademark smirk spreading across his face. “Like what you see, Princess? Take a picture, it will last longer.”

Marinette gasped at the audacity and turned away, “No, you simply reminded me of a ‘before’ picture I saw on the TV the other day.”

“Give me a chance and I’ll do more than make you gasp,” he replied close to her ear.

“I’d slap you, but I don’t want to accidentally make your face look any better,” she murmured sweetly, her eyes alight with playful mockery as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. A tingle went up her spine as his breath tickled her ear and they seemed frozen as their gazes met, the moment only being broken by the bell. Without turning her head any further, she heard him chuckle with mirth as he sat back in his seat.

By the end of class on Tuesday, she returned home to find a thick envelope tucked into the mail slot beside their apartment entry in the alleyway. She pulled it out and found yet another typed tag on the front addressed to her. Not wanting to wait a moment longer, she ripped it open right there on the doorstep. She cried with joy when she saw the contents! Inside was her lost sketchpad tied to a brand new one, its cover a pale pink and covered in plum blossoms and irises. Marinette looked up and down the alleyway, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person that had left the envelope, but no one was there. Did she really have an admirer? She blushed as her hand traced the pattern on the cover idly. Whomever they were, they didn’t waste time with cliché gestures of flowers and chocolates… Instead, they seemed very attentive to her likes and hobbies. Every gift was centered around her designing but still found a way to incorporate a personalized touch. She had never felt so special or seen before. A warmth blossomed in her chest at the thoughtfulness this mysterious figure had shown her; this feeling leaving her floating through the rest of the week as if on cloud nine.

~~~Fourth~~~

On Thursday, Marinette sat at her table after lunch and felt something bump against her knee unexpectedly. She shifted and felt something small fall onto her knees. Trying not to look distracted in class, she brought it into her lap proper and held back a squeal as she caught a glimpse of pink striped paper. They must have stuck it to the underside of the table to avoid someone else finding it. The pigtailed girl slowly opened the wrapping, careful to keep it as silent as possible, to reveal a spool of delicate lace edging in a creamy white. She contemplated uses for it and decided she had plenty left over for a little display of appreciation…

Friday morning, she checked herself in the mirror one last time and received the nub’s up from Tikki. Marinette made her way to school and happily skipped up the steps, ignoring the looks she received – didn’t matter to her if they were in envy, anger, or judgement. Let them look! The designer had raised her hair into her Multimouse space buns but pinned small segments of lace around the base of each, giving her a Chun-Li look with her usual red ribbons trailing from each bun. She had paired the look with a red qipao top with a peplum hem, which flared slightly at her hips, over tailored black pants. She had also exchanged her usual pink purse with one covered in upcycled cream colored doilies.

Surprisingly she entered the class with a couple minutes to spare, nearly stumbling into the two blond cousins conversing at the front table. Adrien was the first to see her, his eyes slipping up to her hair as his smile turned warm and fond. “Hey Marinette! I love the new look; did you design it yourself?”

“Hey Adrien! Yeah, just haven’t had the chance to wear it before now. Felt like wearing something new today,” the designer smiled in return, giving him a little twirl. In the meantime, Felix had turned around and standing eerily silent as he stared at her. She could have sworn his ears had turned slightly pink when he finally glanced at her hair. “Cat got your tongue, Felix?” Marinette asked cheekily.

He cleared his throat before he replied. “Can I take your picture so I can show Père Noël what I want for Christmas?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, “Don’t you know? Only good kids get presents, I’m afraid you won’t qualify.”

“Well, if I must be a Grinch, then I’d rather steal you instead,” Felix stated with a grin.

She leaned in close and dropped her voice low, her eyes taking on a dangerous glint. “I guess I should add ‘body bag’ on my list this year then, because it sounds like you’ll end up in one.” The boy seemed temporarily speechless, so she smirked with victory and headed back to her seat. Vaguely she could hear the imperceptible murmurings of the two blonds get cut off by the bell as she settled in.

Marinette felt – and ignored – Felix’s stare on the back of her head the rest of the day. If she had turned around for even a moment, she likely would have seen the rouged complexion that he was unable to tame in her presence.

~~~Fifth~~~

A week later, after a long day dodging Lila’s machinations and having to stay late to handle Class Representative tasks, Marinette was relieved to find the locker room empty. She mentally ran through the list of books she would need to complete her homework and opened the lock, the door immediately falling open due to an unbalanced package within. Her heart leaped into her chest as she took in the memorable pink stripped paper. The bluenette sat on the bench and brought the package into her lap, noting that it felt soft under the crinkling exterior. Just as she did with the Pantone Guides, she carefully removed the paper. As the last of the tape was peeled and the boundary fell away to reveal the contents, Marinette audibly gasped. There in her lap lay the most beautiful silk she had ever seen, the same shade as the vest she had sketched at the gardens!

She blushed as she thought of the drawing and the image of Felix wearing it in her mind’s eye. She shook her head to free herself from such thoughts. Knowing him, he’d probably think her designs were not worthy enough to be worn. The designer brushed her hand over the material adoringly, unfolding the fabric slightly to gauge the length. There was enough to make a few vests or a skirt or a cocktail dress… Her fingers found a card hidden within the folds and pulled it free. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she read it. Printed in the same font as the others, it simply said:

The vest will only be half as beautiful as you.

~~~Plus One~~~

Marinette spent the next few days sewing the vest and adding the detailing. It now hung on her mannequin as pictured in her sketchpad but…it didn’t feel right. Incomplete. She trudged through school, distracted by the design and what it seemed to be missing. Even Tikki couldn’t calm her or help in any way. The girl wasn’t even sure why she was so focused on it! It wasn’t like she had a way to deliver it to her admirer… she had no way to tell if it would fit him either!

The girl was so unfocused all morning that, when it finally came to be lunch time, she tripped over something on the ground unexpectedly. She groaned from the floor as she brushed her knees off and sought out what item might have caused her fall. In the middle of the walkway was a nondescript black pencil case and – if the solidness she felt through the toe of her flat was any indication – it was full of writing utensils. Marinette grabbed it as she stood up, searching for a tag or name on it to figure out whom to return it to. Nothing was on the outside except for the zipper and a smudge of dirt in the shape of her shoe print. She unzipped it and peered inside, digging her fingers around to loosen the contents. She must have jostled something too hard because pens and pencils popped from the opening and spilled onto the floor.

“Damnit, Marinette…you’re such a klutz,” she muttered as she crouched back down to collect the items, hoping nothing was damaged. She knew how important good pens were. She smiled warmly as she looked at the case, remembering the pens and pencils she had received in her first gift from her admirer…

Just then a pencil caught her eye and she froze; it couldn’t be… As if afraid it was just one of Trixx’s mirages that would evaporate when touched, she reached out slowly and picked it up. There in her hand was a Bosco pencil, exact matches to the ones she had received. Looking around the semi-busy walkway, she quickly gathered up the rest and ran down an empty hall to the supply closet she sometimes used to transform during an akuma attack. The designer knew these came as a matching set of ten and had thought it was odd that she only received five…assuming whomever the giver was that they may have kept the others. She didn’t blame them; these were expensive pencils! She pulled her own pink case out and extracted one of the Bosco pencils to compare it against.

The serial numbers matched.

Marinette gasped and fell to her knees on the floor of the closet, staring at the zippered pouch in shock. “This is…this is my admirer’s case.” She sat dumbfounded for a moment before springing back into action to search for any name that might give away their identity. However, even after emptying it of all further contents, there wasn’t a single thing with initials or contact information. The girl groaned in frustration before carefully replacing the contents and cleaning the dirt from the outside. “I’ll bring it to the office, perhaps they will report it missing to Lost & Found. They brought me back my sketchpad, it’s only fair to find a way to bring this back to them too.”

The designer opened the door and stepped back out into the hall, keeping the case snuggly held against her stomach like a precious artifact, then made her way towards the front office. As she approached, she caught a familiar voice drifting from the open doorway and into the hall, a voice that no longer held the same haughty tone but one filled with anxiety and concern.

“It’s all black with a zipper down the side. Contains several wood drawing pencils and pens which mean a lot to me. Felix Fathom, 01-XX-XX-XXXX. Did you get that?” He paused and she could hear the dulcet voice of their receptionist responding the affirmative. “Thank you. You’ll call me if you find it?” She didn’t wait to hear the answer, instead she ducked into a bathroom nearby and stared at the case as if it had grown legs.

‘Felix is my admirer…he gave me the gifts…this is his case…’ Her mind whirled as it connected the dots. All the times he had shown interest in her drawings and hobbies without calling attention to himself, the times they had bumped into each other in the library or the hallway, the pick-up lines and terms of endearment taking on a whole new meaning as she blushed… He had been there on the cusp of her periphery and paid more attention to her interests than she ever thought he might. And he sounded so worried about losing this case, which contained the matching ones to her set. Then a knowing grin crossed her face – the note cards! She recalled Adrien once mentioning that Felix’s father used to type all of his movie scripts on a typewriter. ‘He did all this…for me?’ Her heart swelled with warmth.

With a flash of brilliance, Marinette suddenly knew just how to finish her design!

But first, she needed to drop the pen pouch off at the front office.

Marinette arrived early the next day and took her usual seat in the empty classroom, deciding to doodle as she waited for others to arrive. Well, one person in particular. Her nerves tingled with the impending confrontation. What if she was wrong? What if he did this as some sick joke? No. She and Tikki had talked through all those issues last night as she hand embroidered the lining with ladybugs flitting between Tudor Roses. It was folded and wrapped in her lap, covered by her jacket.

She heard the sound of his footfall in the hallway and held her breath, forcing her eyes to remain on the paper pad in front of her as she heard those footsteps falter at the doorway. Within a few moments, they restarted and walked up the aisle towards his desk before pausing next to hers. Marinette looked up and met his eyes, noticing he had already dropped his bookbag onto the ground next to his desk on the tier above hers. They were all alone, this was her chance!

“You’re here early, finally decided to be a good example, Miss Class Rep?” Damn him and that smirk!

“On the contrary, I had an important appointment to make this morning.” In one fluid movement she stood, unfolded the vest, and draped it around his shoulders like a cape before he could react.

His eyes widened as he looked down at the material swathed around his torso in awe, his eyes taking on a nervous shadow as they rose once again to her face, “You… How did…”

“You know what that’s made of don’t you?” Marinette’s voice took on a serious tone as if lecturing a student. Her fingers gently fiddled with an edge near his shoulder, pretending to assess the fabric before tucking it beneath his shirt collar. His eyes became searching, but he didn’t reply, his lips parted as if too stunned or unsure to answer.

The pigtailed girl leaned in close to his lips and whispered, “Boyfriend material.” Then closed the distance to seal it with a kiss.

~~~Author's Notes: Do I sound like I am an artist knowing these things? Because I'm not. I just research A LOT when I write. 😅

#5 + 1 fic #miraculous ladybug #felinette #felix x marinette #marivanily #marinette dupain cheng #felix fathom #felix graham de vanily #cross posted on ao3 #fluff #secret admirer #gifts #pickup lines #snappy comebacks #Very Little Dialog #non canon compliant #Felix Likes A Challenge #Sassy Marinette #pov marinette

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christiansorrell · 22 days

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Tacticians of Ahm - Monthly Update #2!

Full spread art by @helenacore depicting Early Graduation's opening field exercises!

Greetings Tacticians!

Tactician of Ahm's Monthly Update #2 is finally here! With it comes the early access version of the setting book, The Ahmian Almanac, which features its first sample region of Ahm, showcasing the style and structure of setting book I am hoping to create with the Almanac. The book will feature lore and locations, of course, but it will also feature more in-depth maps, new NPCs, unique equipment, a complete new Class, and more! I want to create a book that it as much a sourcebook chock full of new things for GMs to bring to the table as it is information about the world of Ahm and inspiration for adventures.

Thanks you so much for the continued support of and engagement with the game! I used more of the raised funds to commission more art from Helena Santana including a new, full-spread art piece for Early Graduation (at the top of the post) and a piece of Dekkin Von Lopesbane character art (also for Early Graduation). Plus, I've worked with Jean Verne on a second preview spread (see above) of our planned look and feel for the game's final layout, this time utilizing some of Helena's awesome art from Monthly Update #1!

Because of my delay of this update (it was originally slated for last month) and the update overall being smaller than I originally was hoping, I am delaying this month's price hike on the game so if you enjoy Tacticians of Ahm now is still a great time to get on board! Tell your friends to do the same! Next update, the price will rise by $5 USD and that will continue apace (barring unforeseen delays like the one I suffered this last month, of course).

Lastly, I recently ran the opening two hours of Early Graduation over on The Weekly Scroll. Check it out if you'd like to see the game in action and see how I run it as the GM!

youtube

PATCH NOTES - v0.8.3

Tactician’s Textbook

Clarified Conditions to apply until the end of target’s next Turn (as opposed to confusing wording regarding Rounds).

Renamed “Shield” Condition to “Ward” to avoid having the same name as a shield, the piece of equipment and updated relevant uses throughout the text.

Ward condition now explicitly blocks all damage AND any/all Conditions while in effect.

Updated Mage Ability - Barrier to include “May be cast on self (1 target maximum per use)”

Added clarifying text to Shields in Equipment section: “(does not block Conditions)”

Added clarifying text regarding applying multiple Conditions to a single target: “A target may suffer one or more different Conditions at the same time. If a target currently has a Condition, they may not be affected by that same Condition again (nor does it add turns of effect to the current Condition) until the current instance has ended.”

Gamemaster’s Guidebook

Added Boar (EL1) to Bestiary

EARLY GRADUATION

Added a massive new piece of art from Helena Santana to the title page, depicting the Tacticians sparring with Imperial Army soldiers during the Field Day exercises!

Added Boar (EL1) to “BATTLE: Wolves in the Woods” and adjusted combatant numbers at various party sizes to more accurately reflect typical intended difficulty.

AHMIAN ALMANAC (NEW!)

Lake Traecine region added, includes the following:

5 Major Points of Interest: New locations for your Tacticians to travel to and explore!

20 Calls for Aid: Adventure hooks and strange happenings across the region!

1 Class: New classes, accessible only to Tacticians who prove their worth!

11 Abilities: New combat skills, taught to those favored by a certain faction!

2 Enemies: New combatants, unique to the specific region or faction!

2 Relics: New guarded/lost pieces of equipment, be they mundane, magical, or corrupt3d!

2 Factions: New groups, wielding political, cultural, or magical power!

1 Shop: A New specialty establishment carrying new and rare items!

4 Characters: New NPCs for your Tacticians to meet, interact with, and fight alongside!

More detailed (placeholder) map of the region with travel paths!

#ttrpg #indie ttrpg #ttrpgs #rpg #fantasy #tactics #final fantasy tactics #tacticians of ahm #grid combat #combat #dnd #jrpg #Youtube

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cupids-chamber · 9 months

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[ EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS ]

Long story short, phone broken. It's not completely unusable, unfortunately though due to the damage it's very difficult to use, it's also an extremely old model so it lags a lot, and I could really use a replacement around this time. (Since September is coming up, and I practically rely on my phone during assignments and in class work.)

Short fanfics / Headcanon commissions, will be delivered within 1-2 weeks, (it'll probably be finished by the first week, but my sleep schedule is all over the place)

Medium / Long fanfics will take around 2-3 weeks, mainly because my writing style consists of shorter length fanfics and these require a lot more thinking and editing on my end.

Other times are marked on the commission chart. (the smau option will be taken down for the time being however, as my lower noise button is completely missing/broken, so I cannot take screenshots.)

I do allow au commissions! Fandoms included are Genshin, Twst, Obey me, and My Hero Acadamia (Though please do not send any Commissions with too many spoilers regarding MHA as I haven't finished the manga.)

Kofi | Commission info . . .

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manjiroscum · 2 years

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COTTONTAIL

Character/s: Bonten!Manjiro Sano

Warnings: f!reader, explicit sex, mature language, hybrid au, established relationship, reader is a bunny hybrid, mentions of past kidnapping, reader is an airhead, tiny angst, cunnilingus, rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, heat cycles, unprotected sex, and use of pet names. Minors do not interact.

Note: commissioned by bby grey @meganemoon 💖🥺 thank you so much and hope u like it luv!

Synopsis: Mikey would do anything for his wife—even hightail out of an important meeting.

WC: 2.7k

Ginza Six, everyone's favorite mall—or so your old friends used to say for the heck of it whenever you guys passed the area after class just to seem relevant. Their snobbishness always irked you, but in a place where friendships were hard to come by, especially for hybrids, you never complained. Pretty little head too wrapped up in the thought that despite how mean they can be, they were still your friends. The building’s postmodern architecture gave off an aura of exclusivity that people will never miss, especially during the sunniest of days when the light hits the glass windows. The difference back then was you didn’t like how it was too lavish and expensive to shop there, the design reminding you of a sleek rubix cube. Finding the prices of the shops’ items to be ridiculous and quite hilarious at that time as a student. A bit envious of those who can afford it. You had no money to buy beautiful dresses that cost more than a month’s worth of groceries. Now? All you had to do was swipe on the trusty old credit card your beloved husband gifted you the first three months into the relationship two years ago. No more snobbish friends or bills to worry about. Time certainly flies fast, especially with Sano Manjiro as your lover.

To spoil his pretty baby was almost second to breathing for him. There’s nothing he can’t do.

Seemed like it was only yesterday when he freed you from a mountain of debts, whisking you away from those icky men who were illegally selling bunny hybrids in the underground city of Tokyo. It was a pity on their part when they decided to mess with the leader of Bonten in the matters of trade and scamming them, but certainly a win for you. Yet, marrying Sano Manjiro wasn’t part of your plans after being set free that involved a quiet life in the countryside after escaping such a stressful situation. Nor did you ever stop and think that maybe this was indeed fate working to reward you for going through tough times.

At the end of it all, you’re more than content with your husband and how he takes care of you.

Other than just a place to spend your free time whenever Manjiro was busy with Bonten, Ginza was the perfect place to just hang out. But unlike any other day, the number of people has significantly increased due to the new shop that opened days ago. Making a mental note not to go through the crowded areas, you almost skipped your way to the first store you wanted to check out. Perked up bunny ears slightly swaying as you went with the shopping bags on your arms that you’ve accumulated from thirty minutes spent going around. Sashaying your way into the Dior store, you politely smiled at the woman. Instantly recognizing you from the countless times you’ve visited, she was quick to assist you with a warm smile.

“Good day. What would it be today, Mrs. Sano?”

“I’ve seen pictures of a new set of leather collars that came in just this week.” Fishing out your phone from your purse, you then started to search for the screenshot you took before holding it up to the woman to see. Specifically pointing at the pink one that had a golden heart as a centerpiece. “Wanna surprise my husband since he likes these. I think it suits me, too. Don’tcha think so? Do you have it in stock?”

“Alright. Let me go and check, okay? In the meantime, feel free to sit down or have a look around.”

Left all by yourself again, you exhaled lightly and began to walk around the shop after setting down your shopping bags on one of the black cushioned seats. Eyes searching for something that might catch your attention as you waited for the sales associate to return. Eyeing a clutch, your gaze traveled from it to the streets outside where a mother and child were passing by. Huge cotton candy in the shape of a familiar cartoon character in the child’s hand, a smile on his face brighter than any of the ladies inside the same establishment as you. Contagious it was, as a smile of your own graced your features at them having a good time. Line of sight falling to the golden band on your ring finger, it slightly faltered then morphed into a pout.

Oh, Manjiro…

Quite dangerous it was for your husband to walk around in broad daylight and accompany you out. Not only were the police after his head, but numerous rivaling gangs wanted to jump on the leader of the most notorious criminal organization in Japan to make a name for themselves. Plus, he strongly implements that you and he should never be seen together in the public eye. And while there were times he brought you to restaurants, it was usually those who had connections with Bonten or you both went so close to midnight where regular citizens have gone home. Manjiro was always careful, calculating in every move in order to keep you safe. Trips to Ginza or other places wouldn’t be possible at all if he wasn’t. But as much as you were thankful, the forlorn feeling never stops seeping into your heart whenever you see couples out doing romantic stuff without care.

Would it be so selfish if you wished for the same thing even after being handed almost everything?

Whether it was the AC blowing directly on you or how the store was cold, you shivered and hugged yourself. Why the fuck is it so cold all of a sudden? You cursed at yourself for forgetting to bring one of your coats in case these things happen. Nevertheless, you quickly beamed at the sales associate now walking up to you with a grin on her face. Finally, once this is over, you could go out and seek the warmth of the sun.

“Mrs. Sano, the collar you wanted is available. Would you like to try it on first?”

Before you could even respond, another chill ran down your spine, prompting you to rub your hands together. What was even more frustrating was how your body temperature was slowly rising, a thick warm sensation blooming from your abdomen. This didn’t go unnoticed by the woman, who quickly tried to reach out and ask about your well-being. Your reaction was instant, stepping back to evade her touch in fear of aggravating the condition that has dawned upon you. Warm flesh, the pounding beat of your heart that is bound to get worse, and the slick dampening your aching pussy folds that would soon be embarrassingly obvious to anyone every time your thighs rubbed against each other. Not to mention, your ears flopping down at the realization, the skin gradually heating up.

Fuck! How could you forget about your heat?! How could you let such an important thing slip past your mind?

“M-Mrs. Sano? Are you okay?”

“Huh? U-uh, yeah!” A weak smile on your face, you then gestured at her to wrap the item. “I’ll take it, d-dear. That and another—what other color do you have? Red? Black? Well, w-whatever, just give me that and another one—doesn’t matter what, just please hurry up?” Seeing her nod and rush away after handing your credit card to her, you sighed. This wasn’t how you pictured your little shopping spree to go… How could you even forget about your upcoming heat?

Well, the telltale signs were already there… From the mood swings and the cravings.

A men’s cologne being tested was happening nearby, notes of what seemed to be spicy bergamot wafting towards you. Your hand shot up to cover your nose immediately at the enticing scent. Averting your gaze from where the sales associate disappeared, you weakly turned to the other way only to catch a familiar shade of hair paired with a different face. Heart banging on your ribcage at the images of your husband sprouting like daisies through concrete, you wished the traitorous mind filling your sight of him would halt in its silliness and leave you be. Wishful thinking never does anything and everywhere you turn, all you see are mimicking faces of Sano Manjiro that merely fueled your desire to have his cock inside your aching heat—now.

“Here you go, Mrs. S—”

“Thank you, bye!” Snatching the paper bag and the card, you mentally took note to apologize to her next time before taking off. Every step you took was like stepping in shards of glass. You did your best to avoid bumping into people as you left looking like you stole something from the looks you are receiving. Eyes darting to the cars parked, you squinted while trying to calm your hammering heart and the heat that gradually enveloped your body to a point everything was a big blur. Colors swirling into a heap almost diluted. To kiss the pavement would have been possible until your chauffeur took a hold of you, scanning your sweaty face and dazed expression. It’s even a miracle you managed to reach the car without passing out or jumping someone. Although the latter would’ve been far-fetched. Clinging to the man, you groaned.

“M-Mikey, c-call him please!”

“Mikey?”

Bored. Tired. His feet screamed to go down the path headed straight to his motorcycle to take him home and see you. Mikey hated leaving the penthouse early, knowing you tend to be needy in the morning while he kisses you goodbye. But matters in the organization wouldn’t disappear overnight, especially when he’s needed. And today was no different, sitting at the head of the table, listening to Takeomi present the sales of the latest drug Bonten was selling. At the man’s call for his attention, the platinum-haired man was about to move his slightly chapped lips from staying utterly silent the whole time found his onyx irises falling to his vibrating cellphone on top of his desk. Brows furrowed as to why your chauffeur could be calling, he quickly picked it up and stood from his seat. The rest of Bonten instantly went quiet, prompting Takeomi to stand still and be ready to resume once Mikey was finished with his call.

Except he didn’t know it was connected to you.

“Speak.”

“It’s your wife, Sir. She needs to speak to you—”

“G-give me that,” your shaky voice cut through the chauffeur’s voice, worry spiking up Manjiro’s spine at how disgruntled you sounded. Keeping his wits together, he waited for you to voice out your thoughts when you practically moaned into the receiver, causing your husband’s eyes to widen a fracture. What were you up to now? “Manjiro…” You drawling his name so seductively had his pants tightening. Manjiro could only mentally curse at the effect you have on him. “I’m sorry if I disturbed you, baby—know how much you hate me callin’ if you’re busy but, fuck…”

“What’s wrong?”

“‘Jiro, my heat… it’s here. Please come home to me.”

Thirty to twenty minutes. That is the usual traveling time Mikey had gotten used to from the penthouse to Bonten’s headquarters every time his presence was needed. Yet, it merely took him five to reach the towering building and ride up the elevator to your shared home. Seconds to discard his shoes and pad to the master bedroom, trailing the clothes you wore now serving like breadcrumbs on the floor. And even before he could swing the door open to ask where you are, you flung it back and jumped him. Hot kisses stamped all over his face, lowering down to his sensitive neck where goosebumps littered while he held you in his arms to steady you. The tight squeeze of your legs around his waist almost bruising, the aching damp cunt of yours rubbing against his clothed bulge. In all his years of living a dangerous life, Mikey would’ve normally prevented anyone from surprising him after being numerously betrayed by those who seek to ruin him. How easily those principles he lived by crumble at the face of you whining for his cock to stuff you full of his cum, naked as the day you were born with your bunny ears twitching.

“‘Jiro… fuck, I need you.”

“Baby, calm down—”

His words were akin to white noise, lips still aching to kiss every inch of his skin and bury yourself underneath it until Manjiro’s scent would stay with you for days, for weeks—forever. Taking matters into your own hands, you unlatched yourself from him and pushed him down until his back hits the mattress. You looked at him from above despite lust clouding your thoughts. And all your husband could do was stare back at your hazed-up mind, swallowing a moan once you straddled him and started grinding down his leaking clothed cock.

“W-wanna ride you.” Groaning at the overwhelming scent of your lover, you figured your hands had a mind of their own and started stripping him down to match you. Your leaking cunt in full display to his dark eyes that never strayed from you. You were definitely out of it—sheathing his throbbing and oozing dick inside of your gummy walls at once, whining at the stretch and how warm it was. But Mikey begged to differ, hissing at the contact and the wet muscles clenching him tightly as you started to bounce fervently. His wife has lost all inhibition and mewled, fingers playing with your perked nipples that he wished to suck on while you rode his cock.

But he couldn’t. Not when you would furrow your brows whenever he made a move to dominate you or to pin you down on the mattress to fuck you himself. No, you wanted to take lead for once and just take. Slowing down to just feel his cock snug in your hot slick cunt, you moaned into the air.

“Missed you so much, baby… Miss this cock in me—mhm, fuck. Need you…” Biting on your lower lip that it almost broke through the skin and bled, your gaze befell onto your husband who could only stare at you in muted awe. He then nodded at your statement, sharing the same sentiments. His pale chest rose and fell at the sight of raw carnal desire unfolding in front of him. Because fuck, if he had to choose between you and Bonten, anyone can mess around with the latter and still lose. But when it comes to you, those fuckers better be prepared to pry his cold dead hands from you before he’ll ever let anything awful happen to his pretty bunny. “‘Jiro…”

“Take me, baby,” he breathed, hands holding onto your hips and waist, giving them a squeeze. “Take it all. I’m all yours.”

No one had to tell you twice, resuming on bouncing on the cock you oh so loved. Unashamed to take what was yours and screaming obscene words, knowing only Manjiro is the sole witness to it all. Holding your tits, you keened. Mouth whining at how you couldn’t go on anymore. He knew this was gonna happen, you giving up in the middle of it because you hated tiring yourself—hate doing all the work. His spoiled bunny. The encouragement of your husband came in grunts, goading you to keep going. To fuck his cock and cream around it until you could no longer keep your eyes open.

“Isn’t this what—shit, what you wanted? Take this fuckin’ cock of yours, baby. Let it breed this bunny cunt. Don’t stop now.”

Sobbing softly, you came undone at the implication. Your eyes rolled back and body quivered at how he spilled his creamy cum into you. Cunt squeezing him dry for the first time today, despite knowing full well your husband would rather shoot blanks by the end of it than stop until your heat was over. Your searing gummy walls painted exactly like his silver hair. You were close to collapsing on top of him when Manjiro held you steady. Your husband caught his breath, a tiny curl at the end of his lips was a telltale sign that this was far from over. He suddenly flipped you to have your back on the mattress. Your husband then immediately went down face to face with your pussy folds still oozing with his semen. Warm tongue darting out to lick on your clit, earning a whine from your parted mouth.

“My turn.”

#❣️pat.coms #tokyo revengers smut #tr smut #mikey smut #bonten mikey smut #sano manjiro x reader #manjiro sano smut #sano manjiro smut #tokrev smut #tw.breeding kink #tw.unprotected sex #tw.hybrid au

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kthyg · 1 year

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ghoul. — (training) (m)

[SECOND INSTALMENT OF GHOUL SERIES : TRAINING]

“I like it when you’re under me. The only place you will ever be is under me.”

Jimin and Jungkook decided they wanted to have an unplanned training session with you.

pairing : yandere jikook x reader

rating : M

genre : tokyo ghoul au, soulmate au, violence

disclaimer : this story is a work of fiction. descriptions of the BTS members in this story does not reflect nor portray them in real life. everything in this story only fits in imagination and does not apply outside of imagination.

warning : infliction of pain on woman (oc).

word count : 3.2k+

masterpost | masterlist | navigation

note from winter 💌 :

PLS IM WRITING THIS AS WE SPEAK: I WAS ABOUT TO MAKE JUNGKOOK LOOK DOWN ON MINGYU BUT THEN JUNGKOOK IS SHORTER THAN GYU IM SOBBVINF SO HARDDD so i decided to change the scene HAHAHAAHAHHAHAA

ok real note 📝

maybe i like jimin being rough. haha like

LIKE BRO HE CANT BE ALL SOFT HE HAS GOT TO LIKE TO INFLICT PAIN AND I WOULD GLADLY RECEIVE

💌 what is winter listening to? : 28 reasons by seulgi

dedication : to my sleep demon, you can fuck off now. ive written your shit down.

Another day at KCCG, Korea Commission of Counter Ghoul, the second branch of CCG that originated from Japan. An everyday reminder when Jimin stepped into the KCCG building. The logos of CCG and KCCG were designated next to each other looking very alike except that KCCG has an additional letter ‘K’ before the CCG. The emblems were blueish black in colour and an animal akin to a bird spreading its wings was embedded at the centre of the emblem respectively, and a few deep curves and details to make it look elegant.

“Jimin hyung.” A voice called.

He turned to the voice. “Jungkook.” His soulmate.

“Why the hard face?”

“The only thing that is hard right now is my dick, so if you don’t have any plans to help soften it down, then I suggest you go back to your office before I fuck you right here.”

“Vulgar,” the younger hissed. “I’m your superior. How dare you speak to me that way.”

“An inferior in bed,” Jimin mumbled nonchalantly.

“I’ll give away your mission in 1st ward to Investigator Rosè,” Jungkook retorted.

“I needn’t worry because she’s not fit for the mission, and you need Joon’s approval for that. 1st ward has always been assigned to me.” He said calmly.

“Namjoon hyung gives me green light for everything, so–”

“Gyu.” Your voice interrupted their conversation. It wasn’t too loud but given that their sense of hearing was very acute, even your softest voice could reach their ears.

You entered the building and with delighted steps, you skipped your way towards Kim Mingyu, Ghoul Investigator of Special Class. Jimin’s gaze followed your figure until you reached the male investigator. Jungkook didn’t miss the hard gaze but instead of asking what was wrong with Jimin, he found himself staring hard at your figure too or the situation.

Since when were you close with Mingyu?

“Good morning, lotus.” Mingyu greeted you with a soft, subtle kiss on the crown of your head.

“Morning,” you smiled, handing over a coffee to him. “Where’s Minghao?”

“Late as usual,” he sighed before taking a sip of the coffee, thanking you after. “Overslept maybe.”

“It’s fine, we can wait.” Sipping a bit of your coffee, you fished out a small device from your pocket. The device was a sphere in shape and floating. You let it float in the air as pressed the button on the device.

“You got a new SfereX?” Mingyu asked.

“Yes. The old one was destroyed during the mission at the 2nd ward.” You sighed.

As soon as you pressed the button, a hologram flashed in front of you. The technology inside the device resembled a laptop or tablet but an even more compact version. As the system loaded you to your home page, you pressed the reminder calendar.

“Today we have a training session with Minghao…” You spread your fingers as the hologram zoomed onto the details of the session. “Focusing on hand-to-hand combat.”

Mingyu nodded. “He needs that very much.”

You slapped his shoulder lightly. “Give him a little credit. He’s not that bad. He’s just so used to the use of weapons.”

Mingyu was about to speak up but as his eyes narrowed a bit over your shoulder, he noticed two figures approaching.

Two figures that, if possible, he always wanted to avoid.

“Ah, good morning, Director Jeon, Investigator Park.”

That caught you off guard.

Upon hearing your childhood friend’s name, your body went rigid, and your mind flew back to when you discovered that half of your files in the star folder were gone after you returned from Investigator Min’s office. You don’t have proof that it was Jimin that deleted your files. Of course, you could walk into the security room and check the CCTVs, but you went against that idea because as much as you wanted to fight for your justice, you knew Jimin would do anything and everything to deny your claim.

Quickly turning around, you bowed. “Good morning.”

Jimin zeroed his attention on you as he spoke. “Training session with me and Investigator Jeon at combat room 2. In 5 minutes.”

“But I have–”

“Are you defying your superior, (Y/N)?”

Your eyes flickered at the sudden use of authority. “No, that’s not it…”

Mingyu saw the hesitation in your eyes as you struggled to find the right word. Maybe it was due to the difference in rank and the intimidation Jimin held because you were not one to hesitate. “Park, she has a scheduled training session with me.” He emphasised the word ‘scheduled’. “Please be considerate and respectful of others’ time.”

“Investigator Kim,” Jimin turned his body to fully face him. His face was devoid of emotions. “Before anything, (Y/N) is under me. Whatever changes made are effective immediately regardless of your opinion.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you are disturbing my line of work by messing up my schedule, Investigator Park.” Mingyu refused to back away.

“That’s enough.” Jungkook finally voiced out.

He has been standing next to Jimin all while his gaze was on you. Breaking his intense gaze, he continued. “I instigated the training session. I believe you won’t have any problem with me doing so, right, Investigator Kim?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “If you’re trying to use your rank and force me to submission, I’d suggest you stop, Director Jeon.”

“Kim Mingyu.” You could see Jimin’s jaw tightened as soon as he let out the stern call.

You really didn’t want to ruin anyone else’s morning especially yours. “Gyu, it’s fine. We can reschedule.” You told him.

“It’s not fine. This doesn’t only affect me,” His eyes that were on the two guys in front of him were now on you. A wave of pity – or maybe concern – was seen. “But it also affects you.”

You knew what his next sentence would be.

“(Y/N), how–” How long are you going to tolerate being stepped on by these bunch of fucked up higher-ups?

And you didn’t have it in you to respond to that question yet.

“The training will take 2 hours at most. I’ll be available by noon and you’re free at that hour too.” You pinched the hologram after checking the reminder calendar and clicked the button to switch off the device.

“Moreover, your student has yet to arrive, no?” Jungkook directed his question to Mingyu. “Technically, I can take up (Y/N)’s schedule at this very moment because her scheduled training appears to be delayed. It gives literally anyone the right to take it up.”

Jungkook raised a hand to cover his lips albeit not fully, he let Mingyu see the condescending smirk through the gaps between his fingers. “Teach your student to respect other people’s time before teaching us. That’s very hypocrite of you.”

He didn’t wait for Mingyu to even breathe another word as he turned on his heels and made his way to the assigned combat room.

“Let’s go.” Jimin called on you.

Keeping your head low, you responded. “Yes, Investigator Park.”

You entered the combat room after having your clothes changed. It seemed like you blended in quite well with the room. Your combat attire was white overall as well as the room, both wall and floor. The combat room is empty but not fully empty as there were flower beds. White flowers. You have no idea why it was the way it was.

As you made your way to a bench, you unwrapped the bandage you had brought over from your locker in the changing room to wrap your hands. The clicking sounds of a door closing reached your ears. Jungkook stepped into the combat room. Spotting you on the bench, he smiled as he approached you.

“Quite a scene just now, don’t you think, (Y/N)?” He sat next to you, mirroring your action with a bandage of his own. “A bit too early to my taste, I’d say. But very refreshing.”

Of course, it’s refreshing for you.

You practically wrecked your brain trying to find the appropriate answer to give out in response. Giving up, you could only muster up a tight smile and continued bandaging your hands. You subtly glanced at his hands as he finished wrapping up his hand.

Well, that’s quick.

After glancing for a bit too long, you noticed his bandage matched his outfit. Black. You looked at your unfinished wrapping.

White.

Just as you were about to resume your wrapping, Jungkook’s hands came into the frame. He gently pulled your hand so that it was closer to him and easier for him to wrap up for you.

“Uh, I can…” You pulled your hand away slowly. “Do it myself.”

He seemed to frown upon your action as he pulled your hand back to him and resumed. “I know.”

Jungkook sure was efficient and quick in his action. He finished wrapping up your both hands in under one minute. All while holding your hand as if you would break if he put even the littlest pressure. You had the time to study his face.

There were significant features of his that remained the same or maybe matured a bit, but it didn’t stop you from going back to the old days you shared with Jungkook. Back then when you were first brought to the headquarter of the Jeon clan, you knew of no one. Not even the person that brought you there. At that time, Jungkook was the only child you saw. If only calling him a child was right. Given that he acted and behaved nothing like a child.

Face hard, back straight, and hands balled into fists on both his lap.

And quiet.

You had not heard his voice until your third week there.

“That brings back memory, huh?” Jungkook tilted his head as he stared at you. “Your eyes are showing a hint of nostalgia.”

The closed proximity and intense staring.

The mysterious coffee eyes. His eyes were still as dark and deep as you first saw. Unlike you, Jungkook's eyes were unreadable. As if his eyes were disconnected from the brain and lived on their own.

He was defective.

But you learned to understand Jungkook by studying his body language instead. That, too, wasn’t as easy. Jungkook mastered the art of concealment. He hated being vulnerable.

Or he forced himself to hate vulnerability.

The Kishou and Jeon have something in common.

Their ruthlessness was known to the world.

Growing up as a Jeon meant survival. Only the best made it until the end. Jungkook was a direct descendant of the Jeon clan and the future that soon would lead and continue the Jeon clan. He was trained to be the best. As for an indirect descendant like you, your training was much more lenient given the fact that you were a Kishou.

Jungkook was trained mentally, spiritually, and physically. Trained to be zero.

Zero weakness.

But after the death of the Jeon clan's former leader, you could see Jungkook finally breathed.

You turned away to break eye contact. “Yeah…”

He hummed before he brought one of your hands to his lips, kissing your bandaged knuckles. “It’s not a good thing, sweetheart.”

You stared at him in shock.

“You’re a Jeon.” All said with a smile and gentle thumb brushing.

I’m a Kishou.

Kishou.

Another sound of the door clicking open resonated around the room, making you immediately pull back your hand. Jimin walked into the room with graceful steps. He was wearing the same combat attire as Jungkook. Black. Your hands were itching to grab your SfereX and snap a picture of Jimin really quick.

Jimin was ethereal. You would never be tired of telling that to yourself.

In terms of physique, Jimin’s build is lean with enough muscle in the right place. The difference in body proportion between Jimin and Jungkook was visibly huge, but their strength was at the same level. Maybe even a level greater than Jungkook.

“We’ll do hand-to-hand combat today.” Jimin announced.

“Sounds fun to me.” Jungkook grinned.

“Let’s start with one on one before the other joins in for 2 against 1, shall we?” Jimin suggested.

You agreed pliantly with a soft yes.

Even if you had disagreed as if Jimin would listen to you.

“One on one with me, (Y/N),” he declared as he strode to the centre of the room. “Are you ready?”

The only word you’ve said for the past few minutes. Yes.

Still having the gentleman in him, Jimin urged you to do the first take before he pitched in. The two of you got into position with hands up into fists just above chin height and feet opened shoulder width apart.

Jungkook’s remark heralded the start of the fight. “Start.”

You didn’t start with your fist instead your knee found its way to kick Jimin’s face. But of course, it took more than a simple movement to injure The Park Jimin. He easily dodged your attack. In return, Jimin charged with his fist, targeting your face which you managed to avoid.

The attack and defence continued until Jungkook announced his presence in the fight. You were against two of your superiors. Two of them hated losing. You didn’t dare to make any first move as soon as Jungkook joined in, so instead, you waited for them to charge any attack.

Jungkook seemed to see right through you as he advanced first. He fired a punch but instead of dodging it, you blocked it. His firing was too quick that you didn’t have the time to avoid it.

But it was a grave mistake.

Jungkook smirked before he continued firing punches to your defence. It was only a matter of time before one of his punches would reach your face. He cornered you to the wall at each punch. You took the opportunity to use the wall to send Jungkook flying back with your feet pushing on his chest and your back on the wall as support.

You didn’t realise how small your intake of oxygen was until you found yourself gasping for air after throwing Jungkook off. It happened all too fast, but you were sent flying to the other corner of the room.

By Jimin.

“Don’t let your guard down, (Y/N).” Jimin reprimanded.

You were quick to get back on your two feet. “I wasn’t–”

Had you not focused on your left, you would’ve been crushed. You made a beeline towards another safe spot before Jungkook practically crushed the wall.

His form of payback was crazy.

“Yes, she wasn’t, Jimin,” he pushed back his hair, showcasing his defined jawline. “Or else she would’ve been crushed like this wall.”

You believed in your hand-to-hand combat skills.

But you don’t believe them in hand-to-hand combats.

Jimin’s grip on your hair was unforgiving. As if his life depended on the tightness of the tug. Your eyes were filled with tears from the burn on your scalp. He trapped your body as he sat on your back, one hand tugging on your hair and the other resting on his crouched knee.

“Weak as ever (Y/N).”

You grunted in response.

“That’s why you’re always under me and forever will.” Jimin enunciated each word clearly, drilling them into your brain. “So, remember your priorities: me before anyone and anything.”

“That is enough, Jimin.” Jungkook stood in front of you with hands in his pocket, looking down at you. The stinging pain on your scalp affected your ability to open both eyes fully, only one of your eyes was opened as you tried to look the superior in front of you.

“You’re getting way too soft on her, Kook,” Jimin pouted. “That’s why she fails as a Jeon.”

“I’m a Kishou.” You hissed.

A new bruising and unforgiving pain started on your scalp and the cause was Jungkook. His movement was so fast that you didn’t get to comprehend the moment he crouched down and replace Jimin’s hand with his own.

“Kishou clan ended long time ago, sweetheart. Stop being delusional and be grateful the Jeon clan even took you in. You’re a Jeon, so live up to it. Do not sully the good name.”

He let go of your hair and stood to his full height. Jimin’s hand found its way around your burning scalp yet again but instead of inflicting more pain, he surprisingly massaged your scalp and even stroked your hair.

The door flew open, gracing the room with the presence of another two Special Class investigators and another one Associate: Min Yoongi, Kim Mingyu, and Kim Seokjin.

Your eyes were quick to fall on your partner’s figure.

“Gyu,” you whispered softly with utmost gratefulness.

But your gratefulness was short-lived as the bruising grip on your hair returned and stronger. Jimin pushed your face to meet with the floor.

“Jimin!” It was Jin’s voice.

“Shh, Jin hyung,” this time it was Yoongi’s voice. “They are in their training session. We mustn’t disturb them.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, honestly.

“The training session ended 2 minutes ago. Release her, Park.” Mingyu said.

You were sure Jimin was trying to plant your face into the ground. Might as well your whole body. The pressure he put was enough to make you imagine so. Whimpers fell from your mouth involuntarily as you felt the pain was too overbearing that it had already exceeded your limit.

Jimin let go of your hair harshly and the weight on your back disappeared. You stayed in your position for a few seconds and only raised your head when you heard another clicking sound of a door which indicated that Jimin has left the combat room.

Jungkook was still standing in front of you. When you tried to stand up, he quickly got to your level and tried to offer a hand.

Keyword: tried.

“Ah, Jungkook.” Yoongi tutted. “You can go freshen up. Mingyu will take care of her.”

Before Yoongi even finished his sentences, your attention was stolen when you heard footsteps approaching you. The next thing you knew, Mingyu was already next to you, helping you to get off the ground.

“I believe it’s appropriate for me to assist my student until the end.” Jungkook said.

He glared at the hands that were touching you, and with a deep and dangerous voice, he enjoined. “Get your hands off her, Kim.”

But Mingyu was unfazed.

“It is, Director Jeon,” Yoongi agreed. “But Director Kim urgently asked for your presence. 2nd ward has been attacked by a group of unknown ghouls. You might want to resolve that quickly.”

The Investigator of Special Class strode towards the changing room with Jin hot on his trail.

“Rather than to waste your time on…” Yoongi moved his cold gaze to you. “Her.”

Ouch.

Jungkook stayed on his spot for a good few seconds before he abruptly stood up and headed towards the changing room with big steps. Yoongi has a victorious smirk on his face as he casually followed Jungkook into the changing room, followed by Jin who sent you a look of pity.

You wished for the day to end already.

Before you have the chance to even be sucked into your hole of darkness and self-loathing, a hand reached out to stroke your head. It was Mingyu. He helped you to get into the correct posture and placed you in his arms. You didn’t put up any fights to protect your pride – not like there was any left. It was trampled on by your two superiors – and rested your head on his chest.

Before the darkness consumed you wholly, you heard a familiar voice calling for you.

It wasn’t Mingyu’s.

“(Y/N)!”

It was Minghao’s.

And then all your sense shut off.

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