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another-whump-sideblog · 2 years

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Jane’s Pets Chapter 17: A Little out of the Ordinary

TWs in the tags

Masterlist

Extra: 16.5

Adverse effects | Unconventional restraints | “This wasn’t supposed to happen”

It’s been a few days since your punishment ended. You don’t feel good.

Obviously, there’s the physical pain. It feels less like nerves that have been activated and more like a mass of pain sitting inside you. Or several chunks of pain sitting inside you.

You avoid moving so that the pain doesn't move around. As long as it sits right where it is, you can semi-bear it, so you have to make sure the pain doesn’t move.

You can’t really do anything by yourself. Ever since you woke up in your bed with your collar on, all of your injuries bandaged, and your leg in a cast, you’ve needed help doing basic things.

Luckily, it’s been Dollie helping you and not Jane. You don’t think you could handle that.

Emotionally, you feel hollowed out. Kit came to talk to you for a bit when you first woke up, and you asked them to kill you. They paled and left without saying a word, and you haven’t seen them since.

Dollie helps you eat and drink and bathe. She applies clean bandages to your wounds and gives you an ibuprofen pill every once in a while. At first, you talked to her and played card games with her, but lately you just stare at the ceiling and try to be as still as possible.

You’re so tired. You thought you would feel better once the punishment was done, but you’re still in so much pain and so tired all the time. The punishment isn’t over, not really, and it won’t be for months.

You sleep and stare at the ceiling and let Dollie take care of you, and before you know it you’ve lost all perception of time. You have no idea how long it’s been. Your wounds slowly heal. Dollie stops giving you ibuprofen. You’re so tired.

—

Dollie steps into your room with a plate of food and quietly shuts the door behind her.

“Hi.” She says. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Master said I could talk to you. She doesn’t like it when her pets get too depressed or dissociated. It’s boring. She said this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Her voice is painfully quiet and a bit scratchy. She places the food on your bedside table.

“How are you doing?” She asks.

You huff. Is she serious? “Not great. Why’d she have you talk to me instead of Kit? I mean, I’m not complaining. But I would’ve thought she’d rather keep us from talking.”

“She would. But Kitty failed. So I get to try.”

You blanch. “Kit’s okay, right? They’re not in the basement, are they?”

“They’re fine. We’re all fine. Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?”

“Not unless you know how to stop Jane. Or kill me.”

“Don’t say that. You’re okay. Are you hungry?”

You are, but you shake your head. You’d rather focus on this conversation.

“I’m sorry I drilled you. I wish I didn’t have to. Is that why you’re sad? I’m sorry.”

You sigh and try to explain in a way Dollie will understand. “No, that’s not why I’m sad. I’m sad because I don’t want to be tortured again but I know I will be.”

“Not if you’re good! And we can help you be good. Me and Kitty, we’ll help you.”

“You don’t understand.”

Dollie tenses. “I’m not stupid. I know I’m being treated badly. I know we’re being treated badly. It’s just… the only way to make it better is to be good.” She takes a deep breath. “We were chosen, you know? By this powerful being. And keeping her happy is our job. It’s a shitty job, but you can have a shitty job and still be happy.”

“You can quit a shitty job. We’ve been kidnapped and tortured and we can’t leave.”

“You came willingly. But that’s not the point. What will make you feel better? What did you do before, when you were having a hard time?”

“I don’t know. I’d just… do what I had to do. But I don’t really want to, this time.”

“Don’t say that. Master won't like that. If you can’t think of anything, I can make suggestions. I could convince Master to get us more books or games. And I do the shopping, so I could get something you want next time I go if Master says it’s okay. We could make brownies. That’s what I used to do, when I was sad. And I’d dance. Does any of that sound fun? Like it would make you feel better?”

“I don’t know.” You feel bitter in a way that’s hard to verbalize. She’s only talking to you because Jane thinks you being depressed is boring. You don’t really want to feel better.

“That’s fine. Do you… want to talk about it? About what happened? We don’t have to, but sometimes it helps.”

“Do I want to talk about how I was tortured for a week straight? Not really, no.” You don't actually know how long you were in the basement, but that feels right. You pause. “I’m sorry, though. You got hurt because of me. You weren’t even there when I ran.”

“It’s fine. I should’ve known better, should’ve left you restrained while I wasn’t there to watch you.”

A chill runs down your spine. “Don’t do that.”

“I’ll do whatever’s necessary. But it shouldn’t be. Especially not while your leg’s broken. That’s a pretty effective restraint, isn’t it? Master knows what she’s doing.”

“What the fuck-“ You take a deep breath. “Okay, here’s a tip for you. If your goal is to make me feel better, don’t talk about me being tortured like it was justified.”

“Sorry.” And she does seem sorry, but you know it’s because she’s doing a bad job at what Jane told her to do and not because she thinks she was wrong.

Dollie stares at you for a minute. “I want to help. What would help you right now?”

You think for a moment. “Kit said you might know more about how Jane’s powers work.”

She shakes her head. “How would knowing that help you feel better? I know you just want to know how to plan another escape. That will only make it worse.”

You close your eyes. You’re never going to get out of here.

“We don’t have to spend all our time at the house, you know. We can go on walks. I’m sure Master wouldn’t mind, as long as you're supervised. It would help you to get some sunlight, I think. And exercise.”

“You’re a fucking murderer, Dollie.”

That’s not what you expected to come out of your mouth. You don’t know why your heart is suddenly pounding. “You killed a child. I’m sure you’ve killed more people than you can even count at this point. You’re so fucking weak. You’ve killed people just because she told you to, just to avoid pain. God, what’s wrong with you? Why are you like this? Why’d you let her make you into this? Why couldn’t you be stronger?” Your face is wet and your hands shake and it hurts.

“Oh.” Dollie’s voice is somehow even softer. She gently wraps her arms around your shoulders, barely touching you. But it’s still a hug. You lean on her and sob into her shirt.

“It’s not your fault, Bunny. It’s not. When you’re following Master’s orders, everything you do is her fault and her decision, not yours. You’re just an extension of her. It’s not your fault.” She taps your left arm gently, where your brand is.

You sob harder. You’re absolutely positive that she’s repeating something Jane’s told her.

“It’s okay. You can cry for as long as you want. It wasn’t your fault.”

You cry and cry and cry. It feels different to when you were crying in the basement. Dollie holds you and rubs circles into the back of your neck, over your collar.

It’s been so long since you’ve had actually comforting touch. It’s not like when Jane holds you, when it’s to prove how much control she has, and it’s certainly not like when Kit and Dollie hold you down to stop you from leaving. Dollie holds you loosely, and you know that she would let go at the slightest sign that you wanted out. She carefully avoids putting pressure on any of your wounds, which she knows the locations of intimately after helping you with bathing and applying bandages.

“I’m a murderer.” You choke out. Dollie doesn’t say anything.

“Don’t go. Stay, please Dollie. Don’t go.”

“I won’t. Not until you tell me to.”

She’s lying, of course. She would leave in an instant if Jane asked. But you let yourself believe it, for just a moment, and you feel safe. Protected. Loved.

“I could’ve gotten you water. You sacrificed it for me and I could’ve paid you back but I’m too weak.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t do it because I wanted something in return.”

That just makes you feel worse. “Why are you and Kit so much stronger than me? Why can’t I sacrifice for you the way you can for me?”

“It comes with time.”

You don’t want to be here long enough to be able to take pain willingly. You cry and cry and cry.

At some point, you must’ve fallen asleep. When you wake up, the light from the window of your room has faded, and Dollie is still holding you. You don’t feel like only sleeping and staring at the ceiling anymore.

A/N: Let me know if I should tag anything else!

Tag list: @eatyourdamnpears @ghostsinthecloset

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tuliharja · 10 months

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BLEACH: Thousand-Year Blood War - The Separation episode 5 review

Alright, don't you all think it was cute how Kyoraku had a cellphone that had First Division's insignia on it? Just me? Okay.

Well, it seemed like every shinigami had their Squad's number on their cellphone, but it was still cute. It also made me think if all those phones were mass-produced by the 12th Division and if it was requested each Division phone would have their insignia on it? (And naturally Mayuri's little spy program, because I won't doubt even a second he wouldn't have putten one in each phone if the 12th Division produced those all.)

Anyway, it was funny how Mayuri was all sassy toward Kyoraku, over the fact they had lost so much of their manpower. While Mayuri appears all uncaring and such, he sure knows how to bite when his higher-ups have failed from his mind or otherwise think they're idiots. Does that mean Mayuri has an authority problem? Maybe (and highly likely, considering his ex-prison life.)

Kensei roasting Hisagi (while he was unconscious) was cute as he gave this strong vibe of 'I trained you so hard son, yet you failed so badly! Don't make me ever worry like this again! This still doesn't mean once I'm done here, we'll do extra training!' Talk about mixed daddy vibes, lol. Too bad, he got in the end crushed by the Superstar. But it was kind of expected (because the main "villains" must defeat him). But it was still nice Kensei got his moment to shine and we got to see a bit more of his Bankai.

But, if I'm honest, I was anticipating Rose's Bankai showcase.

Somehow, I was disappointed. I don't know, but I was expecting more music and a good show. The manga gave such a strong impression, but this one? It kind of felt flat. Hearing xylophone play wasn't really...that good musical number -at least in my mind. I was expecting something massive, dreading, anything! I mean, they had Shiro Sagisu as the composer. Even if his music piece would have been cut short, because Mask de Masculine pierced his ears with his fingers, even so, I was expecting something else than just xylophone. (At least I assume the instrument that was played was the xylophone. I could now be wrong.) In fact, imagine if Shiro Sagisu would have pulled Neon Genesis Evangelion-type dreadful battle music, yet it would have got cut abruptly? Then the animators would have panned Rose's shocked expression as he would have realized something is very, very wrong. But no. Instead we just got a small moment that felt very...rushed? I know even in the manga Rose's moment was very short, but with good animation direction, the scene could have been so much more impactful and I bet Rose would have appreciated it as an enjoyer of art. Instead, it was a blur of a moment, to give way to a rematch between Mask de Masculine and Renji. While I can understand the main "villain" must defeat the "hero", it still didn't make this moment in the anime as disappointing as it did in the manga. (At least for me. I was hoping visuals and music would have made up the short moment, but nope.)

The rest of the fight went as expected. Our main 'villain' defeated the 'hero' in the end. And it was plainly obvious where the more dramatic animation effects, etc., and music were directed in this episode. It was kind of expected after Kensei's and Rose's fight. While the animation was still top-notch during the whole episode, I still think they could have done so much more if they had wanted to. But...if they had, the possibility of outshining Renji's 'main moment' could have been big.

Oh well. Renji going on his true Bankai was pretty neat. Not to mention Ichibe explained his role in Squad Zero was nice.

It was a good thing they wrapped up the whole case of Mask de Masculine in this episode, which gives us all hint in future episodes we will probably see more shinigami VS. one Sternritter and be done with the episode. There might be some additional info here and there, but the focal point will be on the "main" fight.

It was interesting it was implied James was the main Quincy and Mask de Masculine was like his extension, despite the fact Mask was the Strenritter. Or, maybe Mask's true name was James and the mini-James was Mask de Masculine when he was little and fanboy of wrestlers? Hard to say, but something to think about.

That little moment between Ishida and Jugram at the end was nice, but I was still kind of expecting to see a glimpse of Ichigo in this episode, but I suppose because we saw Ishida...there wasn't simply time for that. I wonder if we'll return back to that conversation in the next episode, as the focal point of it will be Rukia and Äs Nödt, based on the next episode's name and the fact Äs Nödt spoke that ending 'quote'...

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almaqead · 3 months

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"The Book of Faith." From Surah Seven, Al Araf, "The Heights."

In addition to decrying the power of a tyrant over the masses, a prophet will depower him by redirecting the attention of the people back to the Book, a place a tyrant or an ass-hole will never look for the source of his power or the real reasons for his existence:

7: 50-53.

The residents of the Fire will then cry out to the residents of Paradise, “Aid us with some water or any provision Allah has granted you.” They will reply, “Allah has forbidden both to the disbelievers,

those who took this faith ˹of Islam˺ as mere amusement and play and were deluded by ˹their˺ worldly life.” ˹Allah will say,˺ “Today We will ignore them just as they ignored the coming of this Day of theirs and for rejecting Our revelations.”

We have certainly brought them a Book which We explained with knowledge—a guide and mercy for those who believe.

Do they only await the fulfilment ˹of its warning˺? The Day it will be fulfilled, those who ignored it before will say, “The messengers of our Lord certainly came with the truth.

Are there any intercessors who can plead on our behalf? Or can we be sent back so we may do ˹good,˺ unlike what we used to do?” They will have certainly ruined themselves, and whatever ˹gods˺ they fabricated will fail them.

The Value in Gematria is 15342, י״הגדה‎‎, the Haggadah:

The Haggadah (Hebrew: הַגָּדָה, "telling"; plural: Haggadot) is a Jewish text that sets forth the order of the Passover Seder. According to Jewish practice, reading the Haggadah at the Seder table is a fulfillment of the mitzvah to each Jew to tell their children the story from the Book of Exodus about God bringing the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt, with a strong hand and an outstretched arm.

For the Haggadah to be effective, one must first follow a course of thought prescribed by the Mishnah Torah contained in the Four Questions: Why matzah is eaten, why maror is eaten, why meat that is eaten is exclusively roasted, and why food is dipped twice.

Answers:

Why matzah is eaten. Leavening is due to a foreign bacteria. The whole reason for leaving Egypt is to be free of foreign microbes.

Why maror is eaten. Being a slave in a strange land, working for strangers instead of the realization of the Self is signified by the maror, though very little in life is as shitty as maror. Maror (Hebrew: מָרוֹר mārôr) are the bitter herbs eaten at the Passover Seder in keeping with the biblical commandment "with bitter herbs they shall eat it." (Exodus 12:8). Maror is like wishing you could hug the toilet and go barf or puke or do diarrhea. Anything to get it out of your system. Anything.

Why meat is roasted. The Sefer HaChinuch tells us that roasting is the manner in which royalty ate their meat; the poor were more likely to boil it. By eating the korban Pesach roasted, we are acknowledging the way God elevated us from slavery to a holy nation.

Why do we dip twice? Dipping twice is being told freedom is desirable and we are all sure that it is, but one must also taste freedom and be free. To be Jewish is not to accept what one is told about anything, but to know for sure oneself, especially where freedom from the delusion of others is concerned.

Here is this dua discussion on the Quran, Allah the Most High says this is all appropriate and badly needed by Muslims all over the world, most are utterly out of control of their destinies.

There is no greater way nor time than this moment to begin pondering a life fully lived in the way prescribed by God than today, and to plan to study the Quran as if it were being received for the first time during Ramadan next week for the correct approach. Haggadah is how this is done, and precedes the same ordeal undertaken by the Jews after they left Egypt in pursuit of Shavuot.

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autodiscothings · 4 years

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Hello Secret Santa!

It occurs to me that just a vague link to the garbage fire that is my tumblr isn’t going to help you much, so I made a character reference guide for my idiots.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Mass Effect universe (which you might be, or might need a refresher) I hope it’s useful.

Kolyat Krios:

I don’t actually own him, I adopted him from BioWare. Kolyat is the son of Thane Krios, an infamous assassin. His childhood was not a nice one, but Kol got his life together after the war and decided not to murder people for a living like dear old dad did.

Kolyat is a drell, a scaled, bipedal race that are rare to the point of extinction in the universe, thanks to destroying their homeworld; only half a million of them exist, which is nothing. A large chunk of this population are subservient/lackeys to a jellyfish-like sentient race called the hanar, who use the drell to operate their machinery and fight for them, often from a young age. It is called the Compact agreement, and drell have worked off their debt for being ‘saved’ from their dying planet for centuries, with no sign of leaving it- yet.

Kolyat is not part of the Compact, nor does he have a hanar handler. In my Postwar ‘neon noir’ universe he is somewhat independent of his homeworld and lives on the Citadel; Kolyat is instead a 20-something detective in C-Sec, a job that defines him.

He lives on a mass, multispecies Ward on the space station -like DS9, but far more civilian- think NYC, London and Hong Kong on acid. Kolyat works for the station’s Homicide and Violent Crimes division; he finds the work fulfilling, but is a workaholic about solving the cases.

Kolyat’s a little bit grumpy, a little bit sarcastic, often prone to scowling. He is also a secret softy, despite the distant introversion- good with kids and pets, despite grumbling appearances. Once he trusts you enough to let you in, you have a friend for life, but he’s guarded about his past for good reasons.

Outfit wise, he’s a man who dresses for comfort, not style. He wears a constricting uniform all day, so his civvies are the 2190 equivalent of jogging bottoms and t-shirts. I mostly draw him in his battered leather jacket, but it’s fine without too.

His tag is: [HERE]. I have made outfit/inspiration sheets [HERE].

I actually really love his in game model, it’s not just a recolour of his dad. That chin! It’s truly excellent. Kolyat is head over heels in love (to his bafflement) with...

Oriana Lawson Lee:

They met at a postwar party on the Citadel, a few years after the Reapers were destroyed. I don’t actually own her either, I also adopted her from BioWare. She’s the sister/twin/clone of Miranda Lawson, but goes by her adopted family’s name of Lee.

Like Kolyat, Ori’s past isn’t a nice one; she was created in a laboratory to be a clone of her sister, a genetically perfect human. Ori was smuggled out as an infant to live a normal life for 19 years with her adopted family; during the war she was kidnapped and held at a space concentration camp by her creator, where he experimented on refugees and turned them into fodder for the war.

She survived, but has scars she keeps quiet about. Oriana is an ‘Ori’ to most people, and the kind of person in which the definition of charisma is usually applied to. She just has something that makes her noticeable- when she wants to. Ori is old Hollywood glam passed through a sci-fi filter, and is usually dressed to impress- often to a calculated degree. Feel free to go over the top with with pretty dresses and red carpet/gala looks, it’s very much her brand.

It’s not all sashaying around in heels, though. Oriana is also a structural engineer and colony developer for Kellam Industries, a sort of made up Doctors Without Borders/ Medecins Sans Frontier charity in the 2190s, and homes displaced refugees for a living. If you want to draw this side of her too, I will be just as delighted.

She and Kolyat seem like complete opposites, but are very much in love- even if they can’t work it out yet. Ori definitely keeps him on his toes; she’s guarded about her past, for obvious backstory reasons.

Ori’s tag is [HERE] and her wardrobe inspo tag is [HERE.] I have made two outfit/inspiration sheets [HERE] and [HERE].

I actually ignore the in game model, especially ME3′s horrible version. I don’t have a face claim for her, but I’ve drawn her plenty of times now for her to be distinctively her. (I say, hopefully.)

Fish The Cat:

Fish is a standard short-haired cat that belongs to Kolyat, a stray he found and brought back home. She is as grumpy as her owner, but still the boss- Fish remains the absolute queen of their household.

She’s a grey-brown tabby with a white bib and matching socks; at one point she was overweight thanks to her food obsession, but Kolyat half-heartedly tries to keep it below chonk levels. Fish is very much his cat, the only one who she’ll let touch her/pet/etc. It seems Ori’s charm doesn’t actually work on belligerent cats at all, and Fish can be spiteful if she tries to hard.

Fish’s tag is [HERE]. She has no faceclaim (lol) but she’s just a standard tabby and white housecat you can find everywhere, really.

Detective Batesda “Bats” T’Lori:

T’Lori -Bats to his friends- is part of the same team/squad as Kolyat is in C-Sec. He’s also the closest thing Kolyat has to a best friend, which considering their personality difference, is hilarious.

Bats is a he/him asari. Asari are the universe’s space-elves, but female-presenting; his choice in pronouns is unusual for the setting, but accepted.

He will often roast the shit out of Kolyat on a daily basis. Bats is on paper is quite odious -a joker, never keeps the same lover around longer than a month, heavy drinker, titty obsessed, anime obsessive, lazy- but somehow has a certain charm that makes him get away with most of it.

Bats is an absolute powerhouse of a biotic (space wizard magic), and the squad’s heaviest hitter because of it. He dresses in practical clothing, but is fond of catsuits and one-pieces (no dresses.) He’s not a particular snazzy dresser, though, but is fond of wearing black and red.

Bats’ tag is [HERE]. I’ve used Ruby Rose a couple of times as reference for his face.

Detective Arjul Patel

Patel is part of the same team/squad as Kolyat in C-Sec, and self-appointed Squad Dad. He has somewhat gross traits; the one most likely to roll up his sleeve to show you his elbow rash, but he’ll also bring in candy and snacks he’s made for the crew.

He’s in his fifties, and has brown skin, warm brown eyes with a sly twinkle in them and a well combed head of black hair. Thanks to a steady diet of snacks, Patel has a little belly- he also has very impressive eyebrows that are very expressive.

Patel is a born and bred Indian, but moved off world to a colony as soon as he was able. He has less art than the others; I have used Nawazuddin Siddiqui as a face ref for a few paintings, but softened his features every time.

Patel’s tag is [HERE].

Thank you for reading all this!

Art of any of these characters is more than fine with me, but a combination of the above will probably make my christmas.

A lot of Kol and Ori is my headcanon interwoven with actual canon, if you’re reading it all and going “I don’t remember that” that’s why. All the fan wiki links are legit canon, though.

I write about them as well as draw them, hence the mass amount of words. Their stories are up on A03.

I also answer questions about the characters a great deal in asks and prompts, the tag is [HERE].

Feel free to send me asks via anon if you want to know anything else <3

#secret santa #asks and prompts #explaining mass effect: done badly

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 305: Worst Intervention Ever

Previously on BnHA: Shinomori, whose name took me an entire week to memorize, was all, “nice to meet you Deku, I’m ten feet tall, do you want to know how I died?” and without waiting for an answer explained that he kicked it from old age at forty thanks to good ol’ OFA. Deku was all “wait a minute, then how come All Might, who’s fifty-five and is definitely dyeing his gray hair, is still alive?” First and Shino were all, “we really have no fucking clue but we think it’s cuz he’s quirkless, JUST LIKE YOU!” So basically, since quirkless people don’t exactly grow on trees these days, Deku is probably going to be the last user of OFA. The chapter ended with Nana being all, “psst, Deku, about my grandson. Uh, can you kill him?” which is sure to lead to a very interesting conversation this week.

Today on BnHA: Nana And The Gang are all “so, Deku, how can we put this delicately. The thing is, we’re pretty sure that AFO really fucked my grandson up, so on the off chance you can’t save him, how would you feel about, you know... [throat slitting gesture].” Deku is all “idk you guys, I kinda feel like he’s really just a traumatized child at heart and he’s in a lot of pain and stuff and so I should try to help him.” The Vestiges are all “BUT WHAT IF YOU CAN’T” and Deku is all “BUT I WANT TO TRY, DAMMIT” and the Vestiges are all “well when you put it that way, we, uh, were just testing you, so congrats, you passed!” The chapter ends with First being all, “ANYWAY SO WHY DON’T YOU TWO SHY BOYS STANDING OVER THERE IN THE SHADOWS COME SAY HELLO” before we CUT AWAY FOR ANOTHER WEEK, goddammit.

seriously, Nana

just... have you met Deku?? look, if you really want Tomura dead, just sic him on the U.A. first years and tell Shouto and Honenuki that it’s a training exercise

oh my god lmao

we’re too far away to see Nana’s face here so I will just assume that she turned and is staring DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA for this one line lmao. “I just wanted to clarify in case anyone felt inclined to take my dialogue out of context and spend an entire week complaining about it”

oh my god?! are you all purposely trying to make me sad??

someone stop me before I launch into an impromptu rant about all my Tomura feels. WHY IS NOBODY STOPPING ME. oh my god but yes, exactly. he’s just in pain all the time. this is exactly why I think Tomura has such high redemption potential even though so far he seems to lack so many of the redemption arc essentials such as feeling remorse, wanting to change, and taking responsibility for his actions. the reason why I’m willing to overlook all that in his case is because Tomura has essentially had zero agency his entire life. AFO molded him into a killer by making sure he was in constant mental agony, and making it so that the only thing that even slightly relieved that agony was killing peeps. like, please don’t think I’m making excuses for him or anything, but if you take a child and manipulate their existence to make it virtually impossible for that child to grow up as anything other than a killer, and basically never give him the chance to be anything else, then no shit he’s gonna be a killer?? he’s basically never had the choice not to be. it’s never been an option for him. anyways I feel like I am EXPLAINING MYSELF SO BADLY but nonetheless I am prepared to die on this hill

anyway so now Nana is all “that’s a rhetorical question btw because Our Hearts And Minds Are One so we can feel everything you feel bro.” so yeah, that’s interesting

now Banjou is getting started on the “let’s try and talk Deku out of wanting to save Tomura because it’s insane” part of their OFA Mystical Space Void Reunion agenda

look, Banjou, I feel you, I really do. you guys don’t think it’s realistic that Deku can defeat Tomura without killing him. so if it’s a choice between killing Tomura vs letting Deku and everyone else in the entire world die, then duh, you think Deku should kill him. I get it! and if this were a real life mass murderer I’d totally agree with you. but the problem is that this isn’t real life, this is a sympathetic shounen villain with a tragic past who might as well have FUTURE REDEMPTION ARC RECEIPIENT stamped on his forehead at this point

so First is all “look, there’s absolutely no doubt my brother has fucked this kid up good and proper by now”, which, again, fair

though, that’s kind of exactly my point though. everything that Tomura is, everything he’s done, he’s done because of AFO. AFO has so effectively shaped his personality and his worldview by this point that it’s all but impossible to penetrate that. he’s AFO’s puppet. but the problem is that rather than treating him like a victim, you all are treating him like a casualty. like he’s already a lost cause. but good luck trying to convince Deku of that

WHOA WHAT, RANDOM SUPER-IMPORTANT AND BIZARRELY UNRELATED EXPOSITION DROPPED IN JUST LIKE THAT??

way to still not reveal Sixth’s name, btw. THE PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW, DAMMIT. but also so this confirms something we basically already knew already, which is that not even AFO can steal OFA. it literally can’t be taken away by anyone unless the owner wills it. SO SUCK ON THAT AFO YOU EGG

(ETA: so I have no idea why this was omitted from this translation, but apparently the Sixth’s name was revealed as “En”, which is obviously not his full name but at least it’s something. also he most likely has a fire or smoke-related quirk based on the kanji used, 煙.)

so Banjou is saying that Deku’s “lack of an iron will” could be a disadvantage against AFO. hahaha what?? Midoriya “I’ll break all of my bones without blinking an eye just to protect someone” Izuku lacks an iron will? do tell

he says this is going to be a test of Deku’s determination. well yeah, no shit. but just not in the way you guys think

OH HELLO AGAIN

darker hair again here! but I don’t trust the contrast in these scans at all after last week. his coveralls are way darker than they looked before too, and you can clearly see he’s standing in the shadows now

(ETA: yep, once again the raw shows that his hair is considerably lighter than what’s shown in these scans here. although there’s no mistaking now that his hair is consistently being colored in this slightly darker shade, and it’s not just the lighting.)

anyways lol First was saying something about how AFO can’t steal OFA, and they’ve spent all this time cultivating it as the ultimate weapon against AFO, and blah blah blah. go on then, keep lecturing

NANA GODDAMMIT NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT

girl what?? you did everything in your power to protect your family, and AFO, fucked up man that he is, targeted them anyway. there is one person and one person only to blame for what’s happened to Tomura, and that potato-faced asshole needs a good kick in the balls

NANA GODDAMMIT DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

SO HELP ME GOD!! I WILL GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG YOU’VE EVER HAD!! THAT IS A THREAT

so now Nana is all “I’m just going to call my grandson a Thing to ensure that fandom has only the freshest, grass-fed no-hormones-added discourse this week”

I don’t even need to drop into the tags to know exactly which specific people are going to respond to this, and what kind of posts they are going to write lmao. everyone’s all caught up in the “that thing”, and meanwhile I’m over here completely hung up on this “nay” that’s appeared out of NOWHERE you guys. look at that. she really said “NAY”

Nana, my love, my dearest, I feel you girl I really do. but he’s not an unforgivable manifestation of pure evil, Deku is exactly right actually, he’s a boy in pain. you guys need to stop questioning Deku’s shounen protagonist instincts here and just let him work his sparkly magic. “let’s try and convince Midoriya Fucking Izuku that he can’t save someone” is a plan that is NEVER going to turn out well you guys

“DEKU GODDAMMIT WHAT IF WE CAN’T SAVE HIM” lmao it’s like an intervention

“DAMMIT DEKU JUST ADMIT YOU HAVE A SAVING PEOPLE PROBLEM!”

RED ALERT IT’S ANOTHER CLOSE-UP OF THE BACK OF MISTER TWO BON CLAY’S HEAD OMG

(ETA: I was too distracted with freaking out about Two and Three to really appreciate how ridiculously handsome First looks in this panel. but on my second readthrough it stood out so much that I had to go back and add an extra bullet point just to talk about how hot he is. look at him. wtf.)

THAT IS DEFINITELY AN UNDERCUT. THE PLOT THICKENSSSS. also those are fucking exhaust vents on Mister Three’s neck. MISTER THREE COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE RELATED TO THE IIDAS, PLEASE TELL ME YOUR SECRETS I’M DYING OVER HERE

so now Deku is launching into what will undoubtedly be a “saving people problems require SAVING PEOPLE SOLUTIONS” heroic counter-speech!

I mean, they can already feel the “lol nah I’m gonna try and save him” feelings running through him lol. ~OuR hEaRtS aNd MiNdS aRe CoNnEcTeD~ and all that. this is just a formality, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love a good shounen protag speech

oh wait hold up, do you mean to tell me that the whole “hearts and minds are connected” thing I was just mocking just a paragraph ago actually allowed Deku to feel what Tomura was feeling?? like literally feel it??

YET AGAIN these Tomura feels are pounding on my front door you guys?? they just will not quit?? people my house is already full of feels, does it look like I need you to sell me any more of them?? -- what do you mean, they’re free??

AW YISS THAT’S IT DEKU. THAT’S SOME GOOD SPEECH RIGHT THERE

I appreciate the contrast here between the Douchebag Triumvirate of Overhaul, Muscular, and Stain versus the Misguided Twosome of Gentle and La Brava. never let it be said that Deku doesn’t know the difference between a redeemable villain and an unredeemable one

OH NO -- OH MY GOD

someone please help me I need directions to the OFA Spooky Galactic Nebula Realm in this fictional Japanese manga land. it’s not on google maps. I need to give these two babies a big hug and wrap them up in a blanket and treat them to some McDonalds Happy Meals please help

other things: (1) ENDEAVOR CHILLING OUT IN DEKU’S “PEOPLE I HOLD DEAR” PANEL LMAO NEON DISCOURSE EXTRAVAGANZA, (2) “ONE FOR ALL IS A POWER TO SAVE, NOT TO KILL” I’M ABOUT TO CRY DEKU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE TO FEEL ALL THIS LOVE, (3) [SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE] THERE’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING IRON WILL!!!!!!!! -- I’m sorry, please don’t call security, I’ll be good

I just randomly remembered that Deku is still saying all of this in his muffled “FMMPHHMMPHMM” voice and I’m somehow cracking up lol. so actually it’s a very good thing Their Hearts And Minds Are Connected, otherwise they’d no doubt be all, “...what?”

(ETA: so I completely missed this on account of it literally not being visible in the scan at all, but in the raw you can clearly see Baby Kacchan and Baby Shouto fanboying over All Might in two of these panels, and excuse me, ma’am??

thank you very much Deku for including them in your montage, particularly since you’ve never seen Baby Shouto before lol. amazingly accurate image you managed to conjure up, all things considered.)

SDKFJLSKHG -- AS IF ON CUE???

HE’S SO ADORABLE HELP?? Trippy Space All Might looks like he’s about to cry, and First is all “don’t crack a smile... you have to be Firm and Serious here... dammit, don’t smile” omg

anyways! YOU GO DEKU. “MY QUIRK MY RULES, BITCHES” damn, son

KLJLKKHLG TRIPPY SPACE ALL MIGHT LITERALLY ACTUALLY IS CRYING ALL MIGHT HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

“I JUST... [CLENCHES FIST] REALLY LOVE SAVING PEOPLE” FUCKING HELL LMAO THIS IS THE WORST INTERVENTION OF ALL TIME

Deku is literally all “sure, maybe I’ll have to kill him, but have you guys also considered, MAYBE NOT??” it’s no use Nana he’s too powerful

LMAO FIRST

“like I’ve been saying this whole time, you should definitely try saving Shigaraki Tomura.” “but, uh... First, didn’t you just -- ” “shut up”

(ETA: clearly it’s not just his brother who inherited those smooth-talking genes.)

so now Deku has turned back into a sixteen year old and his clothes have gone missing again. just OFA things

dskljdlsklgk

yes... sure... “testing” you...

HEY

FIRST OF ALL, DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI YOU MADE NANA CRY. even if I’m pretty sure they’re actually tears of happiness/relief. and SECOND OF ALL, “TELL MY BOYFRIEND I SAID HI” DJSKDLKJJL ANYWAY MAYBE GRAN, NANA, AND MR. SHIMURA WERE IN A THROUPLE

[SCREAMS]

WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE?? WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE!!!!!

(ETA: and two-to-one odds that we cut away to some other scene once they finally start to turn around next week. I’M CALLING IT NOW. giving myself a week to brace myself for the rage.)

fucking hell. well if anyone needs me I will be adding Horikoshi fucking Kouhei to the list of irredeemable villains, peace

#bnha 305 #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #shimura nana #ofa the first #banjou daigorou #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #'deku. sweetheart. your other vestiges and I just want what's best for you'#'have you tried... *not* saving people?'#only to backpedal SPECTACULARLY when he was all 'WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT SAVING THEM'#yeah okay guys #you're not fooling anyone #but it's okay I still love you

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candyflosstoxicity · 3 years

Text

Wanna Be Your Setting Lotion

Endeavor x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Power imbalance. Unsafe sex. Creampie. Breeding kink. Breath play. Pain play.

Despite the sizable uptick in his popularity after triumphing over the High-End Nomu, Enji still felt that his ability to relate to the everyday civilians was sorely lacking. There was still some doubt amongst the masses that he could be a suitable replacement for All Might. As much as that stung his ego, Enji knew that their misgivings weren’t unfounded.

He had promised his son that he would become a hero that he could be proud to call his father, and that meant more than just saving lives. Enji had to work to build a relationship with the public, and be a hero that was not only powerful, but approachable and relatable.

So, with his secretary’s assistance, Enji reached out to the most highly recommended media relations agency in Musutafu and requested that they pair him with a very particular type of publicist. He made sure to specify that they had to be thick-skinned and prepared to undertake all the work that would come with being the publicist to the number one hero. Though he had certainly made some important changes within himself, he still didn’t know how to talk to people and didn’t want to send the publicist running for the hills.

That was how you ended up standing outside the Endeavor Hero Agency. The glass skyscraper gleamed brightly under the sun, and really impressed upon you that this was happening. You had been assigned your first hero, but not just any run of the mill hero and it honestly had you feeling nervous in a way that you never had before. It’s not as if you doubted your ability to manage and improve the Flame Hero’s public image, but this was a major assignment that could either launch your career into the stratosphere or sink it like a stone.

After taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you walked briskly through the front entrance and into the main lobby, where you were greeted by the receptionist. You explained who you were and what you were there for, and she immediately hopped up from her desk in a panic and hastily led you to the elevator. It did nothing to quell your anxiety, because if his receptionist was losing her cool, what chance did you have against the man?

Upon reaching the top floor, the receptionist all but shoved you out of the elevator, giving you a hasty “good luck” while frantically pushing the button to close the door. You stumbled forward and were faced with a large, hardwood door. Having decided that you simply could not delay your assignment any further, you squared your shoulders, took decisive steps forward, and knocked on the door.

---------------------

That was several months ago, and you could say with hindsight that you were right to be anxious. While working for Endeavor was the best way to cut your teeth as a publicist, the man himself was...something fucking else.

It wasn’t just that he was physically intimidating, with his towering height and mountains of muscle. Honestly, you were able to quickly get past that and start working towards building a friendly, yet professional relationship with your boss. Except, he was the most tight-lipped, awkward person you had ever dealt with when he wasn’t in the process of saving lives. And when he was actually somewhat talkative, he was so intense that it left you flustered.

However, Enji always treated you with respect and courtesy, and when you did well, he told you as much. Heat would crawl its way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes whenever he would tell you, “You’ve done excellent work this week, (L/N)-san. Your efforts are appreciated.”

To anyone else and coming from anyone else, it might not mean much, but Todoroki Enji wasn’t just anyone. He had high standards for all of his employees, and you were no exception. Praise from him was hard to come by, and when it was directed at you, it made you feel some type of way.

It was obvious to everyone with a pulse that Enji was an incredibly attractive man. Indeed, every interview you scheduled for him with a female journalist found him being inundated with coy smiles, flirting, and pointed questions about his relationship status.

To be fair, you had asked him the same question, but only because it was important for you to know as the person who handled all of his public relations. It definitely wasn’t because you were lusting after your client and hoping that he was free to maybe, someday, knock your walls down.

Still, you had always prided yourself on being the consummate professional, so you refrained from asking any questions that were too personal. Even though you were so often alone with Enji in his penthouse office, with little to no interruption, and a lot of plush furniture he could fuck you on…

You shook your head sharply, your dark, curly hair moving with the motion. ‘Focus, bitch. Don’t be a goofy and try to fuck your boss. He would probably fire your ass before you could ask for a crumb of dick.’

It didn’t matter if you hadn’t gotten laid since you started working as his publicist; you were NOT going to fuck Todoroki Enji.

Little did you know, Enji was enduring his own share of suffering and sexual frustration. And he had no intentions of denying himself. For him, it was simply a matter of opportunity.

--------------------------

It was finally Friday evening, and Enji was more than ready for the weekend. After a solid week of double patrols, while squeezing in PR appearances that you had set up for him, he just wanted to sit down in his recliner at home and have a stiff drink. He was sitting at his desk with his laptop open, finishing up some last minute paperwork on a report he needed to submit to the Hero Public Safety Commission by Monday.

Just as he put the final signature on the last page, you came bursting through his office door, without knocking, of course. Not that he minded; it was always a treat to see you, even if you were a bit...distracting. Your shapely legs carried you briskly towards his desk and he couldn’t help but admire how enticing they looked sheathed in your sheer stockings. He almost missed what you were trying to tell him, too busy imagining them wrapped around his waist.

“Endeavor-san, I’m sorry to disturb you right before quittin’ time, but I just finalized the details of your appearance on Present Mic’s late night radio show for next weekend,” you chirped with no small amount of satisfaction. Ah, right; Enji had agreed to make time for that, considering Mic was very popular with the young crowd and an appearance on his show would do wonders for his popularity with that demographic.

“He promised to keep it light and casual, and most of the time block will be spent playing some music that you both enjoy. I cross-referenced his playlist with the list you compiled, and y’all have some bangers in common. We’ll need to go over your note cards again, but I’m sure you’ve got that part covered by now.”

Your eyes were focused on the folder in your hands, flipping through the papers there as you went over the last minute details. Enji’s eyes were watching you, though, and he found himself struggling to give a damn about Present Mic or his radio show. Not when you were standing before him, a radiant vision of smooth brown skin and a halo of curls. How badly he wanted to sink his fingers into them and tug your head back, make you submit to him…

“Endeavor-san, are you listening?”

The question coming from your pretty lips, in that sweet, but sharp voice, was enough to finally get his attention. He tore his gaze from your petite frame and looked up to see your dark brown eyes staring at him sternly. Enji coughed and shifted in his chair, trying to subtly adjust his now rock hard dick.

“My apologies, (Y/N), I’m a bit worn out from this week,” he hastily assured you. “If you wouldn’t mind emailing those notes to me, I will look over them again this weekend.”

Your expression softened and you tossed the folder onto his desk before walking around to the side and perching yourself on the edge. Enji could practically feel the blood rush to his dick with you sitting so close to him, the scent of your perfume immediately clouding his mind. Your already short skirt rode up even higher and he had to force himself to look you in the eye, which he regretted shortly after.

“Have I been riding you too hard, sir?”

Enji’s eyes narrowed slightly at you, thinking that you must be toying with him. But, your face was devoid of cunning, and you seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being. He wasn’t used to that kind of consideration from really anyone, especially not one of his employees.

“No, far from it. You probably take it a bit too easy on me, but you still produce amazing results. I would be completely clueless about this public relations crap if I didn’t have someone as bright and clever in my corner,” Enji rumbled, almost bashfully, the tips of his ears still pink from your accidental innuendo.

He had no way of knowing, but the feeling that Enji’s praise gave you was like a shot of adrenaline to you. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks, and you quickly began stuttering and trying to downplay your contribution. However, Enji was having none of it and reached out to grab your anxiously fluttering hands, which had the desired effect of shutting you up.

But, Enji didn’t stop there. He was tired of you not giving yourself enough credit. More than that, he was tired of only being able to show his gratitude in words. So, he took advantage of your size difference and tugged you into his arms and then settled you on his right thigh, forcing you to straddle the muscular appendage.

“E-Endeavor-san?!” you squeaked out. Your tiny hands were encased in his much larger ones and even that small bit of skin to skin contact was enough to set a fire low in your belly.

“Please, call me Enji. It seems a bit formal considering the things I want to do to you.”

“And what exactly do you want to do to me, Enji?” Your voice was low and breathless, but he could see the excitement clearly in your deep brown eyes.

He released your hands and let his own wander down the curve of your sides to settle on your hips. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he engulfed the soft flesh there with a gentle, but firm squeeze. You gasped softly and instinctually ground down against the flexing muscles of his thigh.

Enji growled lowly in his throat and took one hand off your hip, and reached up to bury it in the soft curls that framed your gorgeous face. At first, he gently massaged the scalp with his fingertips, but when he felt you relax, Enji used the curls at your nape to tug your head back.

He loved how small you were in his arms, how easily he towered over you and controlled your movements. And there you were, gasping and squirming in his lap, letting him touch you in such a dominating way. It stoked a fire within him that he hadn’t felt in a long while, urging him to make you fall apart under his touch.

“There are so many things that I want to do to this tight, little body,” Enji whispered against your throat. He placed a heated kiss there, followed by a gentle nip before continuing, “But, for now, I want you to ride my thigh.”

To his delight, you didn’t hesitate to start meekly rolling your hips forward, your skirt bunching up around your waist with the motions. Still, you seemed to be holding yourself back, and he was having none of that. Using the hand that was still gripping your hip, Enji forced you to press down harder and move faster. Getting the message, you braced your palms against his broad, solid chest and began grinding against him in earnest.

The filthy moans you let spill from your plump lips were music to Enji’s ears, and he struggled to refrain from just ripping your stockings off and sliding your down onto his aching dick. There would be plenty of time for that later, but in that moment, he wanted to make you felt just how appreciated you were.

“Come on, little sparrow, I know you’re close. I can feel you soaking my pants leg.”

The desperation and desire in his voice drove your lust even higher. That, combined with the friction of your nylon stockings against your bare pussy, had you teetering on the edge of release.

“Please, sir!” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but he seemed to. And he was going to make you beg for it.

“Please what?”

“I...I want you to fuck me, sir! Please let me cum on your dick,” you pleaded with a breathless whine, never ceasing your wanton grinding.

“Oh, you will be cumming on my dick. But, first, you’re going to make yourself nice and sloppy for me.”

Enji gripped your hair tighter and pulled your head back until your spine arched. Now, your nails were digging into the skin of his pectorals, but he didn’t care because the end result was you humping against him with reckless abandon. No longer needing to guide your movements, he reached up and wrapped his other hand around your delicate throat, squeezing just enough to make the blood rush to your head. That was just enough to tip you right over the edge.

“Oh, oh!” Your hips began to stutter slightly in their movements as your orgasm crept up on you. A scream that surprised you, but made Enji growl in triumph, was ripped from your throat as you bucked wildly through the peak of your release. Letting go of your tresses and throat, Enji pulled you gently into his chest and ran his hands soothingly down your back. As your body trembled and quaked through the vestiges of your orgasm, he murmured soft praises into the crown of your hair.

“You did such a good job for me, baby girl. I’m so proud of you and all your hard work. Are you ready for your reward now?”

Despite the fact that you had just cum your brains out, his words of praise had you moaning wantonly, your head bobbing lazily in consent. Enji wasted no time in standing you up between his legs, supporting your weight effortlessly as he slid his hands up your inner thighs towards the crotch of your stockings. A brief, but loud ripping sound echoed in the spacious office, and then you felt a cool breeze against your soaked lips. Enji took a moment to run a thick finger through your dainty folds, making you shudder and moan.

Enji considered having you ride him again, but a glance at the large sectional he had in the corner of the room gave him other ideas. Picking you up as if you weighed nothing, he carried you to the luxurious piece of furniture and laid you down on your back. He immediately covered your body with his own and locked his lips with yours, the kiss quickly turning heated. While your lips moved together with unrestrained passion, he busied himself with undoing his belt and slacks. Once he got them undone, he freed his aching length from the confines of his underwear, hissing at the sensation of the cool air hitting the too hot skin.

Pulling away from your soft warmth, Enji made you look him in the eye before he asked, “It seems a bit late to ask, but are you sure this is what you want?”

Thinking he was just being considerate, you smiled softly up at him and nodded in affirmation. He kissed you hard, one more time, before looking down to guide his more than impressive dick to your dripping entrance. As soon as he pressed the head in, you knew what he was really asking you before, which was whether you could handle being stretched to your absolute limit.

You threw your head back, pressing into the soft cushion underneath you, and struggled to breathe around the sensation of his girth splitting you open. It was a good thing he made sure you were wet enough beforehand, otherwise, you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to take all of him.

Enji made sure to take his time pressing in and withdrawing, inch by inch, enraptured by the sight of your pretty pussy stretching around him. It was a couple minutes more before he was fully seated inside you, the head of his dick pressed snugly against your cervix. He paused his movements to press sweet, but rough kisses along your jaw and collarbones. You reached up and buried your fingers in his hair, applying the barest pressure to bring his face closer to yours so you could press your foreheads together.

“I’d really like for you to move now,” you panted softly. Sure, it was quite the stretch having him inside you, but it didn’t hurt and you were still filled with a burning desire to be wrecked by the giant hovering over you.

Withdrawing slowly, so slowly, Enji paused again to watch your face as he gave a quick, experimental thrust. The cry of pleasure you let out snapped his resolve to continue taking it slow, and he began to fuck into you with a vigor. All you could do is tighten your grip on his red locks and hold on for the ride.

“God, you feel so good wrapped around me. Do you have any idea how long I have wanted this? How many times I’ve fantasized about fucking into you like this, making you my little cumdump?”

Enji was actually caught off guard with how visceral your reaction was to his dirty talk. He didn’t think it possible, but you became even tighter around his dick, nails biting into his scalp, as well. You began trying to thrust back up against him, but he was having none of that. Enji pulled back just enough to take your legs and throw them over his shoulders so he could put you in a mating press.

“Oh gods, yes, just like this, Daddy!” you wailed loudly, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure from his rigid member rubbing against your velvet walls with the new angle.

A groan that sounded like a snarl rumbled in Enji’s chest at the sound of your fucked out voice calling him ‘Daddy’. It made him want to grind his dick deeper into you, until all you could see, feel, or taste was him and the pleasure he was giving to you.

“Fuck, if you call me that again, I’m going to fucking cum and I’m not going to pull out.” He expected you to object, or something but instead, you attempted to pull him in closer with the strength of your legs alone.

“Please, please, please fill me up, Daddy! I want it all, please, give it to me!”

Pace quickening at your filthy words, Enji leaned forward until you were practically pressed in half and his thrusts had the tip of his dick bumping your womb with every plunge deeper. You were unable to even scream, the air knocked from your lungs and your brain foggy with thought-warping ecstasy.

“Goddammit, you’re gonna make me cum, baby. I’m gonna fill you up to the brim. Gonna make you round with my child. Is that what you want?”

All you could do was nod frantically, incoherent pleas and his name spilling from your drooling mouth in an endless stream. You would do anything, say anything, just to feel his hot cum paint your walls.

From the way you were clenching and pulsing around him, Enji knew that you were close to the precipice again already, and he was ready to tumble over right along with you. Letting go of the last bit of restraint holding him back, Enji captured your lips in a searing kiss and swallowed your cries of passion as he began to piston into your tight heat, chasing his orgasm and hurtling you towards yours.

A shrill scream muffled by his lips and the sharp tightening of your walls around him signaled to Enji that you were cumming, and he quickly followed after you. His powerful hips stuttered once, twice before he drove his entire length fully inside you and stilled, his head pressed to the opening of your womb. Much hotter than you were expecting it to be, spurts of cum that seemed endless gushed deep inside you, prolonging both of your orgasms to the point of over-sensitivity.

When you both finally came down and got your breathing under control, Enji slowly pulled out from you and gently eased your legs off his shoulders. He gathered you up in an embrace and flipped the two of you over so that you were laid on top of him, head resting against his chest. Again, he stroked your back and sides soothingly, murmuring words of praise and comfort.

For your part, you were fucking wiped, your heart still racing and brown skin dewed with sweat. You could feel cum leaking out of your abused hole, but could hardly be bothered to care with exhaustion and satiation weighing so heavily on your eyes.

With strong arms wrapped around you and every bone in your body feeling like marshmallow, you snuggled closer to Enji and fell asleep to the steady pulse of his heart in your ear.

#todoroki enji x reader #endeavor x reader #bnha smut #endeavor smut #todoroki enji smut #black reader

242 notes · View notes

bubble-tea-bunny · 3 years

Text

sweet talk

[tamaki suoh x reader]

author’s note: been rewatching ouran and found the time to write smth small. basically a really late valentine’s fic lol. i’m drafting an idea for takashi as well atm. maybe kyoya after? ;)

word count: 1,844

At this time of year, the weather is chilly, the air cold even without the presence of wind and warranting the need for a scarf to avoid a red-tipped nose and numb cheeks. Most days are gloomy, the overcast sky glaringly bright and difficult to look at. But today, it would seem the divine hand in charge of the course of the seasons has granted a reprieve, the clouds parting so the sun might wash over the grass that you and Tamaki sit upon currently, in the garden of the Suoh estate.

The gardeners had finished their tasks this morning, as instructed by Tamaki the night before. It gave you two the opportunity to be out there alone in the afternoon. The hedges are trimmed and tidy, and the smell of freshly cut grass is strong. You inhale deeply, chest puffed, and sigh in satisfaction as the scent reaches your nose. It had been so long since you sat out in a garden, owed to the fact it had been too cold for that lately.

Tamaki chuckles at your enthusiasm and rifles through the picnic basket he’d brought with him. He pushes aside the array of deserts—cake slices, chocolate bars, fruit tarts, and more—their colorful wrappings crinkling loud enough to grab your attention.

“Where is it…” he mutters.

You tilt your head. "Where is what?”

The tip of Tamaki’s tongue sticks out the corner of his mouth, evidence of his concentration, and when he finally finds what he’s searching for, he holds it up like a first place prize, complemented by an exclamation: “Aha!”

It’s a small plastic pouch, clear with red stripes and tied near the top with a matching, shiny red poly ribbon to keep it closed. There’s what you assume to be candy inside, in various colors, but you don’t recognize it. You’re still just as clueless, but you don’t need to voice your question because Tamaki can see the confusion written across your face.

“It’s commoner candy!” he explains. “Well, commoner Valentine’s candy, more specifically.”

You continue to watch, intrigued by what he’s brought, as he pulls at the ribbon to loosen it and opens the pouch, reaching inside for one of the pieces of candy. He holds up the heart-shaped treat, gripped carefully between index finger and thumb, and angles it so you can see what’s written on it: Sweetheart.

Upon realizing there’s wording on it, and that the same must go for every heart in the bag, your eyes light up. “Cute!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Tamaki agrees, voice quiet as he observes the candy. The nickname is printed red though the lettering isn’t too sharp, which gives away that it was done by a machine. “Haruhi got one for all the host club members, and I wanted to share mine with you.”

When he turns to you, amethyst eyes warm like a summer night, you smile. And when he offers the bag of heart candies to you, you eagerly reach in for one. “How thoughtful!” You turn over the piece you picked out: Only You.

“Well, shall we try them together?” Tamaki inquires, and you nod. The two of you pop the candy into your mouths in unison, then sit silently for a moment in contemplation.

It’s… unique, is the best description you can come up with. The powdery, pressed substance is basically a sugar bomb that melts once it comes in contact with your tongue. But it isn’t the quality of sugar you’re accustomed to—it’s far and away from the refined sweetness of the handmade confections stashed away in the picnic basket Tamaki brought along. Still, this mass-produced goody is delightful in its own way, in taste and novelty, for you have never seen such small candies with words on them, and you say as much to your boyfriend, the last traces of the heart candy lingering on your lips which you lick away.

“They’re charming,” you remark, reaching for another piece. “For when you can’t find the words or get them out yourself.” You read what’s written on the yellow heart you grabbed, then turn it to show Tamaki: Be Mine.

Tamaki’s attention briefly diverts down to read it as well, and the corner of his lips lifts in a lopsided grin as he meets your eyes again. “Sure, they can be useful for some people, but I can get by just fine without candy telling me what to say. How could I call myself the king of the host club if I weren’t able to string together pretty words?” Always conducting himself with some semblance of dramatic flare, he puts a hand to his chest, and the sunlight reflects off his eyes in a way that makes it seem like there’s a tear or two forming in the corners.

As usual, his acting is impeccable, and you can’t contain your smile; he’s such a natural. You have no objections to his claim as king of the school’s host club, and if you’re being honest, you wish you had even half the charisma he does, that some of the skill he possesses at waxing lyrical would rub off onto you via proximity alone.

“They would’ve come in handy for me that day I confessed to you,” you admit shyly, and it’s Tamaki’s turn to tilt his head, confused but waiting for you to expound. “These candies say all the things I wanted to say to you then.”

The day you came to terms with your feelings about Tamaki and the day you actually revealed them to him were different, and the time in between had been spent in a state of conflict over whether it was worth mustering up the courage to approach him about it. There was little doubt in your mind that the president of the host club received declarations of love left and right, a routine part of his week, a clockwork consistency like that of waking in the morning and laying down to sleep in the evening. You’re a drop of water in the ocean; what could possibly make you stand out?

For all that, you figured you should confess anyway. Rejection was still an answer and it was better than nothing. At least after the gentle let down (because truly, Tamaki is, without fail, graceful in matters of love, both the reciprocal and the unrequited) your turmoil over what he may say would finally be put at ease.

Though you rehearsed over and over what you would say and how you would say it, the practice ends up being useless, and you weren’t sure why you even bothered. Once you met his kind gaze—expectant and patient, giving you the opportunity to gather the words in the stretching silence that would be oddly too long in any other context—the resolve you had slowly been building on your walk to the meeting point by the fountain crumbled. You tripped over your words at the sight of his tender smile. Tamaki just had that effect on people, and you wished he’d look at you that way always. To be on the receiving end of his affection was to bask in the warmth of a sun that never sets.

It’s a feeling you’re distinctly reminded of now, sitting in the garden on an uncharacteristically sunny day for winter and the center of Tamaki’s attention, and you think you might be set alight from the sheer intensity (due mostly to Tamaki; the sun is poor competition in contrast). He wears that beautifully soft expression, mind clearly having thought back to your confession as yours just had. But it seems his recollection differs slightly, for he presents a counterpoint.

“I thought you handled it perfectly.” He sets the bag of heart candies on the grass and braces himself with his now freed hand, which allows him to lean closer to you. He enters your bubble but you never mind it, and his touch is feather-light as he brushes your hair behind your ear.

You’re unpersuaded, however, and raise a brow. “Really?”

Tamaki chuckles and nods, blonde hair bouncing with the singular motion. “Your eyes spoke for the words you had trouble finding. I might be the one stringing together pretty poetry like diamonds around your neck”—his fingers slide lower to trace the curve of your collarbone left exposed by the cut of your blouse, and you shiver—“but you have no need for words at all, much less the turns of phrases on pieces of candy.”

“Is that why you liked me too?” you ask, remembering his own confession that had followed closely on the heel of yours. You keep your voice hushed because given how close to each other you are, there’s no need for any higher of a volume.

Tamaki hums in confirmation. His index finger delicately taps once, twice, thrice, on the hollow at the base of your throat, a sort of absentminded movement while absorbed in his thoughts, before he once more brings his hand up, cradling your cheek. “You say you’re a drop in the ocean but you’re the drops of morning dew on the roses just outside my bedroom window. My heart flutters to breathe you in.”

You smile, bashful, and set your hand over his, interlacing your fingers. Your cheeks have darkened in a blush Tamaki would like to kiss. “Okay, I’m convinced,” you concede with a murmur. He’s so close to you now. “When I admitted how I felt, maybe it didn’t go as badly as I thought.”

This elicits another laugh from Tamaki. Instead of acting on his desire to run his lips along your silken skin (there would be time for that later), he settles for a quick peck on your nose, then reaches into the pouch of heart candies, temporarily abandoned but not forgotten. His fingers curl around two pieces and he pulls them both out rather than dropping one, but he sees the words on them before you do since his hand obscures them from your view.

“The powers governing destiny have destined our souls for each other,” he declares. “Because you and me, it’s love.”

He uncurls his fingers to reveal the candy in his palm, and you look down at them. The green one reads You & Me, and the blue one It’s Love. This prompts you to giggle. It’s music to his ears.

“What happened to not needing candy to tell you what to say?” Your tone is playful.

Tamaki shrugs, unable to hide his amused grin. “I pulled them out at random. If this is the universe speaking to me, who would I be to argue?”

You have no counter to this, not that you think there even is one. Destiny is destiny and as Tamaki feeds you one of the hearts and you bite into it, the sugar once more dissolving on your tongue, you can only thank those powers which make the world turn for conferring their blessing upon the two of you in such a deliciously sweet way.

#ouran high school host club x reader #ouran high school host club imagine #tamaki suoh x reader #tamaki suoh imagine #ouran host club x reader #ouran host club imagine #ohshc x reader #ohshc imagine #ouran high school host club #tamaki suoh #ohshc #bubble-tea-bunny

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male-reader-requests · 3 years

Text

Dog Days Pt. 2

Pairings: Mirio Togata x Male!Reader

Word Count: 1,893

Warnings: Second installment! Slightly angsty I guess, I could not remember for the life of me where I was going with this considering it's been 2 months but you know, is what it is. It does have a very small bit of potential sexual harassment, so that's a warning there, but nothing actually happens!

Midoriya felt horrible.

Mirio was still in the middle of his fight, fighting pretty playfully to tire out Tenya, but the green-haired male was hoping for him to finish faster.

He'd been talking to himself, normal, and it had been about (M/N). Said male had gotten curious and came over to question him and Midoriya had freaked out.

Really he hadn't meant to! He'd been so absorbed into his own world that he hadn't noticed that (M/N) had gotten so close until he'd tugged at his uniform!

Midoriya was still on the floor, laying down this time as he looked at the ceiling as if it was the thing causing all his problems. He had wanted to talk to (M/N), to understand his quirk a bit better, and get to know the tall male. (M/N) was dating Mirio, and Midoriya loved Mirio like a brother so he wanted to know his significant other. Then he'd gone and fucked up.

Tilting his head a bit Midoriya could see that (M/N) was sitting in the corner of the room, relaxed against the wall with one knee propped up. He looked quite calm actually, but he was glaring harshly at the floor.

Midoriya had struggled with himself enough to recognize that (M/N) was beating himself up mentally, that he was replaying the encounter over and over again to see what he'd done wrong and could have done better, but there was nothing.

(M/N) had done nothing wrong, Midoriya was just jumpy and had reacted badly.

Midoriya felt horrible and knew he should approach the other male and apologize, but he couldn't find the strength to drag himself up. What if (M/N) reacted badly to Midoriya approaching him? What if he didn't accept the apology and was pissed? Was he pissed?

Midoriya was working himself up, mumbling again. But before his own mumbling could get too loud he noticed someone else was mumbling. Not very many people had a habit like that in the class. Confused he looked over (M/N) to see if it was him, but he was just sitting against the wall with his chin against his chest, mouth and nose buried in his jacket collar.

Midoriya looked around a bit more, going from person to person only to find nothing. Confused he sat up, trying to get a better angle of everything, and this time he found purple in the form of Mineta. He was partially in the shadows, this stupid grin resting on his face, a stupid grin that Midoriya, unfortunately, knew very well.

The girls could all take care of themselves, Mineta was more or less just annoying, and the guys had all given up trying to reprimand him. Well, Tenya still tried but that was just part of his personality.

Mineta was currently eyeing up Jirou, who was still quite out of it due to (M/N)'s venom. It was of no surprise really that Mineta would go after her. (M/N) had explained to all of them beforehand that his venom in the small dose he used would make them sleepy and pliant, having a fuzzy memory of everything after it had worn off. So it was no surprise that Mineta was going after the one girl that wouldn't remember it very well.

Midoriya moved to stand up, but out of the corner of his eyes he saw that (M/N) was slowly getting up. The tall male was leaning against the wall still, but he had his feet under him so he was crouched down, his eyes still closed. As Midoriya looked at him in curiosity he watched as those red eyes moved about, tracking something.

Belatedly he realized the taller male was tracking Mineta who had his back turned to (M/N). His face was against the wall, he looked relaxed, but Midoriya knew the signs of tensing muscles.

He was moving slowly to stand up, close to the wall in a way you could only ever expect of a spider.

Once he stood up completely (M/N) was terrifying. He was taller than everyone else in the class, and while only being dressed in jeans and a hoodie he looked almost like a villain. Is that why he'd freaked out earlier?

(M/N)'s hands were trailing on the wall as he walked forward, silent as a free hand stuffed into his hoodie pocket pulled out the gun he used for his venom.

(M/M) was an all-over fighter, he could do short-range or long-range, but with long-range he couldn't use his venom which could incapacitate someone with one hit. With that in mind, the support class had made him a little gun he could load with his venom to use so he could inject it in a better way.

Midoriya looked around, looking to see if anyone else had noticed but everyone was watching Mirio and Tenya fight. He watched as (M/N) pulled the little vile that held the venom out, holding it against elongated canine teeth the collect the venom much like people do with snakes.

It only took a second or two for the vile to fill up, for (M/N) to be standing right behind Mineta.

He crouched down, still towering over the purple male, but Mineta finally seemed to realize something was wrong. Midoriya watched as he shakily looked up, meeting a mass of red and (E/C) eyes looking down at him.

Mineta tried to scream, (M/N) clamping a hand over his mouth with a light shushing sound.

Midoriya looked around again, but everyone was ignoring what was happening. He seemed to be the only one who had noticed, the only one close enough to hear the two of them.

Two of (M/N)'s hands come out into Mineta's sight, one holding the gun, the other holding the vile.

"You know what's in this?" he whispered, shaking the little vile of (F/C) venom. Mineta nodded erratically, trying to squirm out of (M/N)'s grip but was unable to move.

"Then you know what would happen if I injected more than I should, right?" Mineta nodded again, tears almost coming to his eyes.

Midoriya went back to earlier this afternoon again, to when (M/N) had been explaining his abilities. His venom was always a set amount, half an ML mixed with some solution to be injected via needle darts from his gun. It caused exhaustion basically, zapping anyone hit of their energy.

He'd told them that he would only use more if absolutely necessary, mostly due to Bakugo saying he was more resilient than the rest of them, but had proceeded to tell them what would happen if he used more.

It was still safe between 1 and 3 ML, depending on the persons size and their health records, but once you got past that it got dangerous. He had a Neurotoxic Venom, the kind that was used to paralyze prey in actual spiders.

He had explained that the general dose, besides the memory haze, would cause muscle spasms, cramps, twitching, sweating, drooling, and gooseflesh. As the dose got larger it would start to cause painful abdominal cramps, strange sensations, unstable blood pressure, and severe pain in the limbs.

Then, with a blush that rivaled Mina's hair, he had said in rare cases it could cause damage to Autonomic effects, such as temperature control, digestion, bladder control, and unfortunately sexual function. Basically, if he gave a bigger dose than safe he could cause any of the males to get a painful erection. He'd sighed after that, filling a little vile with his venom to show them all the color of it so they'd recognize it.

Coming back to himself Midoriya's eyes focused again, looking to (M/N) and Mineta who had been talking softly. Or (M/N) had been talking with Mineta nodding along the best he could.

(M/N) pulled back after a second or two of silence, putting the gun back in his pocket but keeping a firm hand over Mineta's mouth.

"Now I suggest you find a new hobby or you'll end up confused and dazed, not having any memory of the next 12 hours," (M/N) smiled lightly, head tilting a bit to the side, "You understand, right?"

Mineta nodded aggressively again, (M/N) smile getting larger before patting him on the back, standing up, and moving away from him. Midoriya watched Mineta for a second or two more before looking back to (M/N), flinching when he locked eyes with him.

(M/N) was just standing there, partially in the shadows staring at him. It was horrifying.

"(M/N)!" a voice called out, Mirio coming into the room with a shining smile.

Immediately all of the murderous intent left (M/N)'s system, a soft smile so different from the one a few minutes ago coming to his face. He looked exhausted, he had before but now even more so.

Mirio came over, talking excitedly and waving his hands around, gently elbowing the taller male in the ribs as he laughed at something. (M/N) didn't say anything, just smiled and nodded, ruffling blond hair when he had to leave for his next fight.

Mirio's smile fell once (M/N) was out on the field, turning to look at Midoriya instead of his boyfriend through the glass.

"What happened?" he asked, face void of the happiness it had shown with seconds before. Now he just looked concerned, confused and concerned.

"I don't really know," Midoriya started, rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked at the ground. "I'd gotten lost in thought so he'd startled me when he tugged on my shirt and then he scared Mineta when he was creeping on Jirou.

Mirio sighed, looking back to the glass that protected them from the fight happening below. (M/N) was fighting Mina, the pink girl easy to spot against the mass of rubble around them. She was laughing, struggling to breath as she slapped her thighs. Mirio smiled lightly at that, (M/N) had said some dumb joke in order to distract her. Partial for the fight and partial for himself.

"Yeah that's (M/N)," he chuckled softly, watching as the young girl fell over, laughing so much she was crying with (M/N) frantically crouched over her, clearing panicking as if he'd done something wrong. "He's always nice to everyone, easily excitable but he's also pretty awkward."

Mirio then let out a slightly forced laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. "He's also always been someone who acts, so if Mineta was being a creap then I can't really blame (M/N)."

Midoriya nodded, watching as Mina struggled to get up, (M/N) helping her the best he could with their height difference.

Maybe he'd just caught (M/N) on a bad day? Hopefully, they could be friends, or at least get along.

#my hero academia mirio #Mirio Togata #mirio togata x male reader #mirio x male reader #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha mirio #angst

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laelior · 3 years

Text

Subject: RE: Old Times

Mass Effect Gen (Kaidan Alenko & Rahna) ~1300 words A follow up to Far-Off Unhappy Things, since so many people wanted to see Rahna send that message to Kaidan. Ao3 Link

28.09.2183 0330 GMT

To: Lt. K. Alenko [[email protected]] From: Dr. Rahna Arslan [[email protected]]

Subject: I don’t know how to title this, but here goes anyway

Dear Kaidan,

I hope this message finds you well.

I don’t quite know how to begin saying this.

I don’t think I need to rehash what happened fifteen years ago. It’s something I’ve gone over a lot in my mind and with a therapist, at length, to try and put it behind me. I thought I had put it behind me but then I saw your face on the news that it all came back like it was yesterday.

What happened wasn’t your fault. I blamed myself by blaming you for a long time. It wasn’t either of our faults but I was too young and too frightened to see that at the time.

I treated you badly after that. I was scared and confused and I took it out on you.

I’m sorry for that, more sorry than I can say. More than anything else that happened, the thing I’ve regretted most is how I hurt you when you were just as scared as any of the rest of us.

I want to say now what I should have said then: Thank you for standing up when no one else would. I’m sorry that Vyrnnus, and by extension Conatix and the Alliance and everyone else involved, put you in the position where you had to defend yourself like that. It wasn’t your fault.

When I saw you on the news, I realized that there was one loose end I hadn’t tied up.

I don’t expect you to forgive me for pushing you away, but I hope I can explain that my reaction had less to do with you than it did with my own guilt.

I hope that you are well, and that you’ve found a measure of peace with what happened all those years ago.

Warmest regards,

Rahna

17.10.2183 1443 GMT To: Dr. Rahna Arslan [[email protected]] From: Lt. K. Alenko [[email protected]] Subject: RE: I don’t know how to title this, but here goes anyway Rahna,

I’m sorry it took me so long to reply to your message. It got buried in my inbox and I didn’t see it until a few days ago. It took me a bit to come up with the kind of reply that you deserve after taking the time to write to me.

I’ll get this out of the way first: I never blamed you for how you reacted. What happened was messed up and you had every right to be scared of me. But I appreciate your apology anyway. I guess we’ve all had to come to terms with what happened in our own ways.

Thank you for reaching out to me. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought a lot about the way things went down all those years ago and what I’d say if I saw you again. I own what happened that day. I’ve done my best to learn from it and move on.

A doctor, though, huh? I’m glad to see you’re doing well for yourself.

Take care,

Kaidan

19.10.2183 0421 GMT

To: Lt. K. Alenko [[email protected]] From: Dr. Rahna Arslan [[email protected]]

Subject: RE: I don’t know how to title this, but here goes anyway

Dear Kaidan,

Thank you for writing back to me. You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that you’re doing well these days. When Brain Camp ended I tried to put everything about it behind me, but I heard about what happened to a few other kids after they were sent home, like Hendel.

I went as far and fast as I could from anything that reminded me of Brain Camp. For me, that ended up being medical school and Médecins Sans Frontieres. Not everyone was that lucky.

I realize you’re probably very busy these days. I’ve seen you in the background of a few of the media pieces on Commander Shepard in the past few months but you never speak in them. Still camera-shy? I remember when Kazuko managed to smuggle a camera on Jump Zero and you couldn’t get out of the way fast enough when she pointed it your way before the staff found it and took it from her.

But I digress. The hospital ship I work on is currently docked near Earth. If you’re ever in the system and feel like talking all this out over coffee, please let me know.

Best,

Rahna

22.10.2183 0421 GMT

To: Dr. Rahna Arslan [[email protected]] From: Lt. K. Alenko [[email protected]]

Subject: RE: I don’t know how to title this, but here goes anyway

You know, I’d forgotten about Kazuko and her camera. I don’t let myself dwell too much on those memories, even the not-awful ones.

But I’ll take you up on that coffee next time I’m Earth-bound. It’ll be nice to catch up.

Take care,

Kaidan

01.12.2183 0215 GMT

To: Lt. K. Alenko [[email protected]]

From: Dr. Rahna Arslan [[email protected]]

Subject: Thank you

Dear Kaidan,

Thank you again for meeting with me over coffee, especially since you mentioned that you were only going to be on Earth for a few days before shipping out again. I have to admit I didn’t know what to expect, but it was good to see you.

It made me realize that I still have some processing to do before I’ve truly put Jump Zero behind me. If you don’t mind my observing, I think that applies to all of us who survived. I don’t know if it’s even truly possible to be completely at peace with something like that. But all we can do is try, I suppose.

I don’t know if our paths will cross again, but I wish you well and hope for nothing but the best for you wherever life takes you.

Best,

Rahna.

P.S., The way you talk about Commander Shepard, well, let’s just say that I’m truly happy for you.

01.12.2183 2113 GMT

To: Dr. Rahna Arslan [[email protected]] From: Lt. K. Alenko [[email protected]]

Subject: RE: Thank you

Rahna,

It was good to see you, too.

There’s a lot more I could have said, but you’re probably not wrong.

I’m shipping out tomorrow and don’t know when I’ll be able to write again.

Take care of yourself,

Kaidan

19.12.2183 0105 GMT

To: Lt. K. Alenko [[email protected]] From: Dr. Rahna Arslan [[email protected]]

Subject: Are you okay?

Kaidan,

I heard about the Normandy. There’s been nothing official in the news but word spreads anyway. I hope you get this. I hope you’re okay.

Rahna

27.12.2183 0548 GMT

To: Lt. K. Alenko [[email protected]] From: Dr. Rahna Arslan [[email protected]]

Subject: RE: Are you okay?

Kaidan,

I’m just trying again in case you didn’t see my earlier message. There’s a rumor that some of the Normandy crew survived. I sincerely hope you were one of them.

Rahna

27.12.2183 0622 GMT

To: Dr. Rahna Arslan [[email protected]] From: Lt. K. Alenko [[email protected]]

Subject: RE: Are you okay? [ERROR: UNDELIVERABLE]

Your message was returned with the following error:

ERROR: Undeliverable message. SERVER ERROR 520

03.02.2184 0548 GMT

To: Dr. Rahna Arslan [[email protected]] From: Lt. Com. K. Alenko [[email protected]]

Subject: I’m alive

Rahna,

I’m sorry if I worried you. I made it off the Normandy. A lot of people didn’t.

The Alliance is keeping me busy. I don’t have a lot of time to catch up on correspondences but I just wanted to let you know.

Kaidan

#mass effect #fan fic #my writing #laewrites #kaidan alenko #rahna #shenko #implied in the background #epistolary #by popular demand #rahna and kaidan finally get a chance to talk #the formatting i wanted to do for this post just WOULD NOT cooperate #so fuck it #here it is anyway

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felassan · 3 years

Link

Article: ‘Mass Effect & Dragon Age’s cast members on how BioWare builds dynamics’

I spoke to several figures from BioWare juggernauts Dragon Age and Mass Effect, to get a clearer idea of how those iconic team dynamics we associate with the two titles were created. [interviews]

This article is a really neat read. :) Contains character insights, behind-the-scenes info and some reflections on representation.

Some excerpts under the cut due to length:

A huge theme of these interviews, naturally, was BioWare themselves. As well as general praise for the support, the working environment, and the success of the finished product, many singled out individual directors by name, and credited BioWare’s focused approach with getting the best out of them. Hale even claimed they were “the unsung heroes,” that underpinned the whole Mass Effect trilogy. [...]

“Usually there’s almost always a BioWare writer on the line with us, usually up in Canada, when we’re recording. So you’ll have the director, me and one or two BioWare head honchos up there supervising. That’s the way that’s the way it worked on Inquisition too. There’s a really collaborative vibe.” [...]

This consistency across the recording process is likely why the calibre of performance is so high across both trilogies. “The team of writers of BioWare are extraordinary,” Nick Boulton [Male Hawke] says. “So they keep you on track pretty well. The key was having Caroline Livingston, who was directing most of it – all of it, in fact. She would be there to give context notes, and also keep me on the straight and narrow, as far as characterization went. So we were led through very well by the BioWare team.” [...]

Insight on Jack:

Courtenay Taylor describes Jack as being “a very comfortable pair of old stinky sneakers to step into,” and explains that her connection to Jack’s story was a core way she was able to bring it to life. “[Jack has] a pretty familiar psychology that I had. She was very reminiscent of how I was, to some degree, in high school. She’s putting up a barrier to get people to prove themselves, so you have to run the gauntlet in order to get the good stuff. When you’ve been abused as badly as she has, then psychologically one of the tracks you can take is ‘I will not allow myself to be vulnerable’. And that really resonated with me.”

Taylor also says that this guard Jack puts up meant that, ironically, many of the players found it easier to connect with her. “I got really great feedback from a lot of people about struggles that they had had in their personal lives,” she says.

“I think [Jack’s change between Mass Effect 2 & 3] is a smaller story, but it’s a big story for a lot of people. I have a lot of friends who had addiction problems. And quite a few of my friends give back by going back to the community that they’ve come out of, and finding people that need help. At its core, that’s a big, important through line for Jack – every one of us is worthy of love. And it doesn’t matter how difficult you are or how troubled you are or what has happened to you or what someone has done to you. You are worthy of loving and being loved.” [...]

Taylor also saw something personal in her own performance, especially since there weren’t a lot of women like Jack in popular media when Mass Effect 2 launched. “There was a huge amount of love for her because gender/appearance wise, she is something that I felt at that time had not been explored. And I know that some of the things were cut, but in what we originally recorded [Jack was pansexual], and in 2008 or 2009, there weren’t a tonne of conversations about being pansexual,” she says.

“She was a counterpoint to a lot of the other female characters. She was sort of the far end of the spectrum. You’ve got Miranda who’s beautiful and pulled together, but that only serves a certain population. And there are a lot of people that identify as women who could relate to having these feelings and these emotions – she’s not gender specific. To me, she’s angry. And I don’t know that there had been, at that time, a female character who was so not typically female, who was capable of such a range of emotions. She ended up being the permission to a whole group of people who don’t identify with that kind of woman. Because in entertainment, where did that bald girl with a flat chest who was pansexual go? Where do you fit in? And that really resonated with me. If you don’t relate to Miranda, Jack can be a really nice option.”

Insight on Josie:

It’s a sentiment echoed by Allegra Clark, who used a major tragedy in her own life as motivation for the siege of Haven in Dragon Age: Inquisition. “I think the first time you really start to get to know [Josephine] as a person is when she talks about Haven after the attack. That conversation she has about the first people to jump in and protect people being the workers, and how she’s just watching everything be destroyed. I was actually thinking about 9/11, as a New Yorker. So that was a very personal moment for me. But it was those little moments where she starts to open up and blossom that you get to see her as a person.” [...]

For Clark though, those boundaries were much more personal. “When I was told I had booked Josephine, I was just like, ‘I’m a companion in a BioWare game, and a romanceable companion at that’,” Clark says. “I recognised going in that people were going to connect really hard to this character. People are going to have entire playthroughs that are based around romancing Josephine. She helped me explore my own bisexuality, and that is always the thing that that warms my heart the most when people come to me about my LGBTQ+ characters, and say ‘they helped me understand parts of my own identity’. I actually wasn’t out of the closet publicly, or even to parts of my family when I started recording Inquisition. So it was interesting, getting to tell essentially part of my story as well. Before even being able to say to the world ‘hi, I’m bi’ – though all the signs were there. I was in a relationship with another woman at the time. It’s like ‘oh my God, they were roommates!”

Zevran:

While all were full of praise for BioWare’s writing and working environment, the love of actually playing the game was exclusive to Clark. Most others admitted they had never played at all; Curry confessed he had no idea if Zevran was even alive [as he hasn’t played]

Sam Traynor:

“I think Traynor was revolutionary in what she was doing at the time,” Wilton Regan says. “What was so different about Traynor was she wasn’t romanceable for either gender, you had to be playing as FemShep to choose a lesbian love option . And that was so brave of them to do at the time. But it brought us leaps and bounds forwards, because having that inclusivity then makes it just easier for the next game, and for the game today. And now it’s a standard – you should be representative of all sexualities if there are romance options in your games, and increasingly major games pretty much always have some sort of gay, bisexual, lesbian or heterosexual choice. It might not be as fluid as all of the spectrum of sexual choices, but you’ve got a strong variety in comparison to where it was 20 years ago, for example.”

Sam Traynor and Josie:

Part of representing groups that don’t often get representation in video games is that your character gets to become a role model, and that’s something Wilton Regan and Taylor have particularly fond experiences of. “It’s quite flattering and quite lovely to think about,” Wilton Regan says. “I’ve had a lot of lesbians who are coming out of the closet or coming to terms with their sexuality, who’ve come up to me and said that playing FemShep and romancing Traynor was a really big part of that. And lots of bisexual women as well. There’s something just very beautiful about the idea that BioWare has put so much faith and trust in me over the years with these really pivotal roles, and these big, beautiful characters. I feel very humbled by that. Very, very humbled.”

Meanwhile, Taylor wasn’t even sure people would like Jack, so finding out how deeply people related to her was a huge surprise, and she suspects that’s because Mass Effect allows her to be angry without being written off as a stereotypical, hysterical woman. “People didn’t like her when the trailer came out, and I was like, ‘Oh God, everyone’s gonna hate her!” Taylor laughs. “I was really surprised to be at a convention and have someone come up and say, ‘Can I introduce you to my nieces? They’re six and eight, and they love you’. I’m glad they have a good female role model in Jack.”

#dragon age #bioware #mass effect #video games #mass effect: andromeda #lgbtq #long post #longpost #feels

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thelordofdarkreunion · 3 years

Text

Agents of the Golden Throne

It took me longer than I wanted to write this, but here’s the follow up to the current story thread. We see more of the Inquisition and their methods, we have what I sincerely hope to be a heartwarming moment, we touch on the subject of xenophilia, and, of course, we get to see the Grey Knights bust heads. I hope you enjoy the story, and, as always, no one except Drake and his crew belong to me.

“I carry with me an Inquisitorial Seal. It is a small, unassuming object contained in a neat box of Pluvian obsidian. It is a modest thing. Relatively plain, adorned with a single motif and a simple motto. Yet with this little object I can sign the death warrant of an entire world and consign a billion souls to oblivion.” -Inquisitor Flast of the Ordo Malleus

“It is Mankind’s holy destiny to rule the stars, and rule them alone.” -Lord Inquisitor Knael of the Ordo Xenos

“Do not worry: your memories will return with time.” The deep bass voice of Lord Hector Rex cut through Vir’s headache. He was aboard the Fury of Deimos, the heavy starship that served as the headquarters of Rex and the Grey Knights. He looked around him, taking note of the gloomy gothic architecture and the massive cathedral windows of the hangar bay. A cadre of humans stood around him; individuals that he was sure he knew but couldn’t really remember. His memories were in the back of his mind, flitting things that he tried in vain to claw back to the forefront of his brain. He remembered being on some strange planet… something that had to do with the color red. There was some sort of white orb, too. Nothing else besides that. He couldn’t recall the interior of the Fury of Deimos, something Rex unabashedly told him they permanently deleted. No one save the most powerful and dedicated servants of the Ordo Malleus could come aboard a starship of the Grey Knights and still leave with their memories. It was explained to him as a simple security measure, but it still irked him. He could, though, remember the probing, the strange devices… the pain. It was the singular most painful experience he had ever gone through, and that was saying a lot. Ripping through someone’s mind to make sure their soul was untainted did a number on the pain receptors of nerves, not to mention the utter wrongness of such an act.

But, apart from the pain and the memories of the elderly Inquisitor guiding him through his recovery, he could remember nothing except brief hints; shadows of what he once was. Then there were his companions, people who he was certain he should know but didn’t. There was a brown haired, easy-going man dressed in a black and yellow jumpsuit. It was something he would have found ridiculous except for the sense of respect he felt for the individual; that particular memory ran deep.

Looking rather confused was a man with close cut hair, wearing what Vir vaguely remembered as a combat armor bodysuit. Faint memories of competence, fighting side by side, something in common… This man was some sort of friend. Trustworthy.

The third perplexed individual was wearing high boots and a leather jacket vest, similar to his own. This one Vir held slightly in awe, somewhat like the first man. He remembered hearing stories about this one, but, frustratingly, couldn’t remember.

The last had a black coat and boots matching his equally black hair. Blue eyes roved suspiciously around the hangar, looking with untrust at the Inquisitor and the other Imperials. A series of conflicting feelings rose from the sight of this man: good advice, utter hilarity, slight insanity, and a disturbing amount of large explosions. What the hell…?

“How soon will our memories recover?” asked the black coated man. Rex scratched his head. Vir could tell he was frowning behind his mask.

“This is not an exact science. I would estimate a day, perhaps two, for all of your memories to fully come back to you. It could be as little as an hour, or, in the most extreme, as much as a week.” Rex noticed the alarmed looks being cast his way. “Though that is unlikely. I can give you my utmost assurance that all of your memories, except for the ones of the halls of this ship, will return.” Another man entered the room, this one dressed in a distinctly Imperial style, with an elaborate, overly-embroidered greatcoat and cap. Vir remembered him… from somewhere. He thought this man had been on his ship before. His ship… what was his ship called? Something fierce, he hoped. The man bowed to Rex and spoke in a worried, but polite tone.

“Greetings, Lord Inquisitor.”

“Greetings, Commissar Cain.” All four of the non-Imperials in the hangar looked up sharply. Cain. They remembered him better with a name to go with a face. “I trust your stay in the hangar has been satisfactory?” inquired Rex.

“It has.” Ah, yes. Cain stayed here because he didn’t want to get mind wiped. And he didn’t touch the orb, like we did. That’s why we’re here! The orb! Cain cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Lord Inquisitor, and I do recognize that this is your area of expertise, but was it necessary to completely mind-wipe them?” Rex cocked his head curiously.

“We did not mind-wipe them. Unfortunately, it is a side effect of the process that makes sure they are untainted. If we could avoid it, we would, but there is simply no other way.” Cain nodded.

“Very well. I thank you for your explanation, Lord Inquisitor.” He glanced at the still confused four mind-wipe victims. “May I take them back to their ships?”

“You may,” replied Rex with a nodd. He made a curious symbol on his breast, folding his thumbs together and outstretching his palms. “May the Emperor guide you, Commissar Cain.” Cain returned the gesture and bowed.

“And you as well, Lord Inquisitor Rex.” He gently guided the four to a shuttle. “Come now. We need to get you back where you belong.”

Rex watched them board the shuttle and take off. They were strong of mind and soul, those ones. That must have been why the Prognosticators of the Grey Knights had told him not to interfere with their business. He had been annoyed that xenos had seen the Knights, but it was inevitable, he supposed. After all, the Sons of Titan had teamed up with the enigmatic Aeldari to fight the daemons of Chaos when necessary. More xenos, especially ones deemed necessary to the future by the seers of the Grey Knights, couldn’t hurt too badly, he supposed. There were worse enemies out there. He did, however, chafe that those pesky GA delegates were still around. He had pulled rank and ordered the Knights not to destroy them. That would cause too much of a political headache. Though, he did discreetly mind-wipe them with his powers, and pull the orbital defenses of the Rundi homeworld from the chairwoman’s mind; information he had subsequently turned over to Inquisitor Vail. They wouldn’t ever remember meeting him. A good thing, all things considered. They had neither the training nor stomach for fighting demons. He spun on his heel and strode into the hall of the Deimos. There was work to be done.

Aboard the shuttle

The shuttle had roved from ship to ship, dropping off passengers that barely remembered where they were going. The yellow-shirted man, who had introduced himself as Kirk (some more slight memories came from that realization… something about a TV show?) was left on a ship called the Enterprise (a good name. Adam hoped his ship was named something just as good.) The First Mate, a tall thin man with strange pointed ears, had sighed as if this were a regular occurrence and led Kirk deeper into the ship.

The short haired man was left aboard the Normandy (memories of beaches, and machine guns, and mass death in a war a long time ago.) A raven haired woman wearing a bodysuit that left little to the imagination greeted them.

“Ah, Commander. Welcome back. I trust everything went satisfactory?” she asked. The other man stared at her.

“You have a strange accent,” he said at last. “Where are you from?” The woman, who Vir presumed to be the First Officer of this ship, merely cocked an eyebrow. Cain rolled his eyes and stepped in.

“Ms. Lawson, the Inquisition performed an intensive interrogation on Commander Shepard, the side effects of which include the temporary, and I stress temporary, loss of memory.”

“He has no idea who I am. Or anyone else,” stated Lawson bluntly. Cain nodded and pushed Shepard from the shuttle.

“Off you go Commander. Hope the doctors don’t take you apart.” The shuttle ramp closed, veiling the sight of a very confused Shepard and very exasperated Lawson. It took off, slipping through the void. The silver shape of a large, rectangular ship flitted through the viewport. Vir looked out in wonder. This ship… this one’s mine. What is it called…? Harbinger? Harbinger sounds right… but… no…

The shuttle touched down in a large, open hangar. A shorter, brown haired woman stood at attention there, waiting. The ramp came down with a heavy thunk, and Vir and Cain exited.

“This is our stop,” said Cain. “Will you two be alright?” he asked the shuttle’s other two occupants. The black coated man nodded jerkily, still staring into space.

“What? Oh. Yes. Don’t worry about us. Commissar Cain. Admiral Vir.” He rattled off their unfamiliar names, the taste of the words strange on his tongue. As the shuttle took off once more, the woman approached Vir and Cain.

“Admiral,” she said with a crisp salute. Vir looked her over, trying desperately to remember who she was. Obviously some sort of ship’s officer.

“Ah… yes,” he stalled, trying to buy time for his memories to return. “Uh…” The woman stared at him.

“Are you… alright, Admiral?” she asked, perplexed. Before he could do anything to embarrass himself, Cain stepped in.

“Ah, Simone.” Simone! Yes! Now he had a name to go with a face. Simone was his… assistant? Maybe? “As you know,” continued Cain, “Admiral Vir was interrogated by the Inquisition. The side effects of which include temporary memory loss.” Simone’s mouth set in a hard line.

“Those utter-” she stopped herself, realizing who she was talking to. “Ah. Yes. Commissar.” She turned to Vir, clearly trying to ignore that she almost criticized the most deadly and powerful organization of Cain’s home government. “Admiral… you really don’t remember me?” Vir shook his head a miserable ‘no’.

“No. I don’t. There are bits, and pieces… but not much.”

“Well, you should probably get settled. Go to your cabin; someplace familiar. I’ll make sure Kril doesn’t kill you,” said Cain with a wink. He strode off, Commissar’s greatcoat swirling. Simone watched him leave.

“What did they do to you…?” muttered Simone. “I’m your First Lieutenant, Admiral.”

“Ah hah!” came Vir’s triumphant shout. “Yes. Simone. I remember you are my first lieutenant. It’s coming back. A bit.”

“Alright, then. I’ll take my leave, Admiral,” she said. Vir shook his head, still confused. He wandered through the hangar, somehow knowing where the exits were and where they led. He knew his cabin was somewhere towards the front area of the ship, near the bridge, but found his feet taking him a different way. He walked through the bowels of the ship, saluting the crew he passed with automa-like precision. It was mechanical. He remembered none of them, but for an unknown reason kept walking until he reached a door near the engineering area. He instinctively stepped inside, though he did not know where it led or why he did so.

The room was bare, with empty metal walls and a corrugated steel floor. The walls were covered with elaborate weapons blueprints and armor designs. In the corner, huddled over a workbench, a large figure welded something. Flying sparks illuminated a sleek blue carapace and four arms. Vir had no idea who this was or what sort of creature it was… but he knew it. He trusted it. He felt safe here. Hearing his footsteps, the figure turned around and lifted its welding mask.

“Adam? You got back already?” He felt something stir inside him at her (he knew it was a her) voice.

“I… I can’t remember anything,” he confessed. “The Imperials interrogated me… one of the side effects was temporary memory loss.” The blue alien stood to its full height.

“Those bastards… You don’t remember me?” she asked. Vir shrugged.

“Tell me your name. It helps with remembering,” he replied. She stepped forward and took his arms.

“Sunny,” she said. Suddenly, everything clicked.

“Sunny,” he replied. It was a statement. A sentence spoken by a weary man who has finally come home.

“You… you do remember me?” asked Sunny with concern.

“I remember your name,” said Vir with a smile. “Clearness. Blue skies. Light. Warmth. Happiness. Sunny.”

“Is… is that it? You don’t remember anything else?” Vir stepped forward and threw his arms around her. He felt tears go down his face as he buried it into her chest. She drew him close, her four arms wrapped around him.

“Yes. I remember that I love you.”

Aboard the Millennium Falcon

The Falcon was full to capacity. Nearly fifty individuals were crammed inside. Han Solo and Chewbacca were quietly flying in the cockpit. Not a single word passed between them, for the First Mate realized his Captain wished to be alone with his thoughts. In the small recreational spaces of the ship, sitting morosely in the chairs that controlled the dorsal and ventral guns, slouching in the hallways and resting in the cargo holds were dozens of the Apocalypse’s armsmen.

After Thomas Drake had returned from the Fury of Deimos, he had instinctively gravitated towards Richter and Ordelphine, whom he had told his predicament. The two had immediately and bluntly set him straight, giving him the beginnings of his memories back. He had been lucky; most of who he had been and what he was doing returned within the span of hours, no little thanks due to his First Lieutenant. He had been scrolling through his computer files when a note to himself had popped up… and he had a sudden epiphany. Which was why the Falcon was currently headed to a small but busy moon in the far reaches of this galaxy known as Noctopolis.

The note, and the realization it brought, was simple. The Holy Ordos of His Divine Majesty’s Inquisition and the laws of the Imperium of Man were harsh. They were known to declare all those who dealt in alien technology Excommunicate Traitoris. This meant that the individual in question was expelled from the Church and light of the God-Emperor and cast out of the human race to be hunted down and executed. If such a punishment was fit for those who merely traded technology crafted by aliens, then what of those who romanced, or even copulated with aliens? The punishment for such an act would be… unbelievable. Unfortunately, xenophilia was an accepted act in five of the nine galaxies that now made up reality. Should His Majesty’s Inquisition find out that such people were accepted, it would mean instant and eternal war.

Drake realized the Inquisition could deal with aliens by themselves, for if the aliens fought alongside humanity against larger threats, then they were an asset. However, if Holy Humanity debased itself with aliens, and to the Inquisition, if aliens were treacherous and convinced humans to perfore perverse acts with them, then the Inquisition would have no other choice but to step in. This would result in any alien race that had any sort of xenophiliac history with humanity to be exterminated, and human civilizations that thought xenophilia was acceptable to be brought under Imperial compliance.

The civilizations and the xenophiles themselves had no idea of the storm that was about to bear down on them. With Inquisitor Amberly Vail of the Ordo Xenos now in this galaxy and presumably finding out whatever she could about it, Drake had what he believed to be four options.

One, he could do nothing. The simplest option. If he stood by, Vail would find or overhear that Admiral Adam Vir had convinced the Galactic Assembly that xenophilia should be legal. In that case, Drake could claim plausible deniability and the Inquisition might believe him. Regardless, the xenophiles would be rounded up, the GA destroyed, and this galaxy would become part of the Imperium of Man.

Two, he could turn the xenophiles over to the Inquisition. For eradicating such a large heresy, the Inquisition would probably give him whatever he wanted: advanced weapons technology, one of those delightful gothic starships, perhaps his own private moon. However, innocents would die, the Scoundrels would be broken up, and Vir, Quill, Kirk, and Shepard would despise him before being forever silenced.

Three, he could tell his compatriots or wait for them to do something. However, Thomas Drake had succeeded and survived in life through one maxim: if you wanted something done right, then you did it yourself.

Four, he could side with the xenophiles. He would have to do this carefully, as, otherwise, the full wrath of the Inquisition would come down on his head. He would have to get them underground, undercover, completely invisible from any prying eyes. Already, he had sent warning messages to the Milano, Normandy, Omen, and Enterprise. All were hand written and hand delivered, all written in Drake’s camera-less cabin. No one could hack into handwriting.

The question was hard. The answer was simple. He was siding with the xenophiles. Why? At the moment, the xenophiles were sitting there, doing nothing. The Inquisition, on the other hand, had gone and messed with his brain. All moral concerns aside, he was siding against the Inquisition ‘cause fuck ‘em, that’s why. Ah, spite. That most excellent of motivators.

The Falcon touched down on the putrid streets of Noctopolis, the polluted air swirling around the landing gear. Drake and the armsmen disembarked, leaving Solo with Chewbacca to reclaim the last vestiges of his shredded memory. The armsmen wore garb similar to Drake, all in heavy boots and trench coats.

Good: the trench coats were not armor or uniforms, and thus they would not be easily recognized.

Bad: a group of people wearing black coats and strutting about an overcrowded criminal-ruled moon would be seen and possibly remembered.

Best: trench coats could conceal weapons. A lot of weapons. Each of Drake’s armsmen wore clothing that was reinforced to stop bullets, and had enough guns on them to fuel an army. No one would be messing with them today.

They walked through the streets, their massive numbers and intimidating bearing making sure no one got in their way. Making their way down fetid alleys and downwards, ever downwards, they reached a gorge with red smoke, pollution from some nearby factory, billowed. They made their way through a deserted alley and reached a door. Drake knew it hid a deceptively large building.

“Fan out,” he ordered the armsmen. “Surround the building. No one in or out without my permission.” The armsmen nodded. Weapons were pulled from concealment, the larger ones assembled quickly by their wielders. First Squad had drawn duty today, and Saul stood by Drake’s side. Two black coated women stood next to the door, shotguns at the ready. He wasn’t expecting it, but there could be hostiles inside. You never knew when you might need a hot breach. Drake rapped on the door. There was a long pause. Drake and Saul stood unmoving. The armsmen were ready with their weapons, turning the door and the alley into a kill zone. Eventually, a slit opened and a pair of human eyes peered out.

“What do you want?” asked a somewhat surprised voice.

“I’m a friend of Adam,” replied Drake, the grin on his face unable to hide itself. There was a snapping and rattling of chains and locks being undone, and the door opened. Drake and Saul stepped through, two other armsmen who had been ready to provide support with compact submachine guns hot on their heels. A man with electric blue hair stared, frightened, at the quite obviously mercenary soldiers that had just walked through his door. Before he could say or do anything rash, Drake held out a calming hand.

“Relax. In this case, I really am who I say I am.” He held out a paper, which the man took and carefully scanned.

I, Admiral Adam Vir, hereby state that Thomas Drake is a close confidant and can be completely trusted.

Drake had papers with similar messages from all the Scoundrels. He had forged their signatures and had their fingerprints on file. It was, perhaps, a breach of trust, but he would not be offended if they did the same to him. It was just good business. Plus, such documents were very useful. Very useful indeed. As the man puzzled over what was happening, Drake held up a finger to his comms device.

“You know, you really should change your passwords. And your back door code is 0-0-0-0. Sloppy,” sighed Drake. “Very sloppy indeed.” The blue harried man gapped up at him. Drake sighed again. “Can we, perhaps, go somewhere to talk business? That is, of course, why I came.” The man nodded, still slack jawed, and led the mercenaries through what seemed to be some sort of club and into the back rooms. A group of strangely dressed humans and aliens stood there, apparently summoned by the blue haired man. Drake sat in a vacant seat, the cheap leather scratching through his coat. Saul and the two other armsmen stood beside him, their coats open, ready to grab hidden guns at a moment’s notice.

“Are you here to kill us?” opened one of the humans abruptly. The other faces at the table were silent, but held the same worry. Drake sighed for a third time.

“I only kill those whose deaths are necessary or deserved. You are neither, so you have nothing to fear from me.” There were a few audible sighs of relief.

“Then why are you here?” asked a small, furry alien.

“I come with warnings. There are those who would kill you, and I wish to prevent that,” replied Drake calmly. There was a splatter of derisive laughter before another human held up a hand.

“Are you… one of us? Why would you want to warn us?” Drake gave a rictus grin. Some of his table-mates visibly shrunk back.

“No I am not. Frankly, I don’t care about you or your opponents here. Let us just say that it’s better off you weren’t mass murdered by zealots.” That brought a series of murmerings.

“What?” asked a Drev. “I think you’d better start from the beginning.”

“Indeed,” replied Drake. “It is always wise to start at the beginning.” He settled into his chair. “I’m sure many of you are familiar with the fact that there are now nine galaxies in this universe, not just one.” A chorus of yeses greeted this fact. “You may also be familiar that in one of these galaxies resides a government known as ‘The Imperium of Man.’” A chorus of hissed curses greeted that name.

“Xenophobic scum,” muttered someone.

“Hmm. Yes,” replied Drake neutrally. He leaned back even further and crossed his legs. “At the present moment,” he continued, “The Imperium’s secret police, known as the Inquisition, is here, in this galaxy, investigating a completely unrelated matter.” More mutterings. “They are bound to investigate everything they can about this galaxy, and when they do, they will find out about your existence. If this happens, you will all be tortured to death, and the GA, with most likely every alien race here, will be exterminated, with the galaxy coming under Imperial rule.” Drake smiled over their horrified faces. “I do not wish to see that happen. Which is why you must do as I say.” They all leaned in, desperate to hear if he could save them. “One, you must disperse. Groups attract attention. I found this place easily, because I knew what to look for. The Inquisition is even more adept than me. Two, you must leave this place. If a trail can be found, something I am trying to erase, believe me, but, if a trail can be found, it will lead to this moon. Three, you must never, ever practice any sort of xenophilia, or have anyone suspect what you are. Four, if you do as I say, and are still captured by the Inquisition, you must tell them that you are alone; a singular degenerate alone and unloved in this universe. They will ask you to betray your comrades; don’t. They will kill you either way.” There was a stunned silence, before the room went up in shouts.

“No!”

“Absolutely not!”

“You ask us to give up everything! Everything we’ve worked so hard for! To no longer be ourselves! Adam Vir would never do this!”

“Adam Vir is not here!” thundered Drake. “You are dealing with me now.” He stood and rubbed his forehead as he paced. “Nothing I have told you, or will tell you, is a lie. My colleagues are, to a man, all better people than I. However, they are, at times, unbearably naïve.” He spun around and fixed them with his most intimidating glare, the one that made corporate oligarchs, high generals and planetary governors quake in their boots. “Be grateful that you are dealing with someone who knows precisely what they are talking about.” The table sat back down and watched Drake. He frowned. “Now, I can get you off this moon; get you to wherever you want to go. I can give you new identities, multiple identities, just in case, food, tickets, papers: whatever you need to start a new life.” He paused. “However, all things come at a price.”

“I knew it!” hissed one of the humans. A tesraki held up a hand, silencing the other members around the table.

“What do you want?”

“I want information. And you are going to give it to me.”

“What do you want to know?” The voice was resigned to its owner’s fate. Drake leaned forward.

“Everything about the LFIL, everything about Admiral Vir, and everything about this galaxy that I don’t already know. Give it to me and follow my directions, and I can ensure you will survive.”

Aboard the Fury of Deimos

Lord Inquisitor Hector Rex stood on the command bridge of the Grey Knight’s ancient ship, surrounded by the mindless servitors that crewed it. In front of him were winking holograms of Admiral Vir, Captain Kirk, and Commander Shepard. Deep into the blackness of space, a space station, so sleek and unlike anything Imperial, orbited an empty planet. A camera feed from inside the research station flickered through the terminal in front of him. What it displayed was clear signs of daemonic presence.

“We got word just recently that this research station went dead,” said Vir. “They apparently had some sort of artifact they were studying here. It only came alive in the past few days.” The cameras showed an infestation. The artifact had spread throughout the station. Twisted masses of white bone, flickering with red energy and black ooze, clung to the floors and walls. Dark energy, lit with crackles of red, pulsed through the ceilings as if the station were some living thing. As if the red crackling were arteries, filled with blood, flowing to the artifact, the beating heart of corruption. The station’s crew were all dead. Their bodies were held up by tendrils of bone, some twitching slightly as the horrible mass grew inside them. Bone spread through every empty space in their bodies, growing through their eyes and mouths, infesting their noses, even going through their very veins. To the watching Scoundrels, it was horrifying. To Lord Hector, it was just a regular day.

“It was good of you to inform me,” he replied. “Stay aboard your ships. We shall take care of this.” The Scoundrels nodded. If there were people who knew precisely how to combat this sort of thing, then they would differ to their expertise. Rex deactivated the holograms and turned, walking off the bridge. As he strode through the ship, he sent a mental message to Doctor Strange. Strange was aboard, just in case the Knights or Inquisition needed his help. He was staying in the hangar bay, though, for he just didn’t want to take the chance of being mind wiped.

Strange. We are cleansing the research station here. Stay aboard. If you receive word of any other artifacts being activated, you are free to intervene as you see fit.

Understood, Lord Inquisitor. I’ll be keeping my eyes open on the areas that celestially connect to Polaris.

The Scoundrels awoke from their induced slumber with a warning: there were corrupting artifacts, hidden in the locations that Polaris was connected to. These artifacts needed to be destroyed. Rex couldn’t agree more.

Through the halls bearing the symbols of the Grey Knights he walked, until he reached the teleportarium. The five Knights who had accompanied him on this mission stood there, silently waiting, weapons in hand. Rex simply nodded at them. No words were needed. His sword was always at his side, his armor always on him; no need to go get them.

The silent party of Ordo Malleus operatives stepped into a large circular chamber, mysterious machinery clanking along the walls. A servitor trundled forward, and flipped a lever.

With an almighty crack of displaced air, Lord Hector Rex and the Grey Knights teleported aboard the now derelict research station. The pulsating mass of bone and energy crackled ominously around them. They marched inexorably forward, untouched by the corruption.

“They are coming,” spoke the rumbling baritone of one of the Knights. “This thing defends itself.” Without warning, a fallen scientist leapt at them. It’s eyes were dead and gone, replaced by inky black spots of primordial darkness. It’s mouth stretched impossibly wide, bone spurs ready to shred flesh.

It was unnaturally, unimaginably fast.

The Grey Knights were faster.

Nemesis force halberds crackled to life with but a thought, pure blue-white energy flowing across their blades. The Knight nearest to the lifeless abomination spun at speeds the mortal eye could not follow, his psychic powers enhancing his already enhanced body. The blade of his halberd connected with the thing’s neck, cleaving through bone and thin, lifeless skin like a knife through tissue paper. The once-human fell, the unnatural life in its eyes gone. With its death, the station exploded.

Tentacles of bone whipped forward, seeking to impale the intruders. More infected bodies darted forth, running at the Knights with speeds that would have astounded a normal human. The darkness seemed to grow deeper, an unnatural deficit of light swimming forward to fill the halls.

Lord Hector unsheathed his blade. The sword was called Arias, an ancient weapon carried by the Ordo Malleus’s greatest heroes, reportedly blessed by the Emperor Himself during the Great Crusade. It glowed with faint golden light, repelling the darkness around them. He now brought it forward onto a corrupted scientist; a quick slice, almost as if he were swatting a fly. The infected form fell, cleaved in two by Hector’s power.

The Grey Knights spun and swirled through the station as if they were smoke. Untouchable. Untaintable. Their psychic powers churned through the air, leaving blessed purity where there had been corruption a moment before. They moved in tandem, augmenting each other with their power, exactly in tune with their brothers’ minds. They were a brotherhood of demigods, slayers of the demonic, a group that brought only death to the damned.

Lord Rex spun Arias in a defensive pattern, the consecrated blade shredding every attacker that reached him. He held out a hand, and a dead Vrul scientist that had leapt at him, bone-fangs ready to tear his throat, stopped in mid-air, suspended with his mind. His fist closed. The Vrul exploded into bone shards.

A wall of force, crackling with golden energy, swept away the encroaching darkness, fueled by the combined might of the Knights. The scientists were all dead now, shredded by the psychic ammunition of the Grey Knights wrist-mounted bolters or cut down by their crackling blades. The tentacles and walls redoubled their efforts, desperate to make sure the Inquisition didn’t reach the artifact at the center of the station’s corruption.

With a swipe of his hand, the Grey Knight’s sergeant flicked open the heavy doors that led to the artifact’s chamber. They saw it, a small mass of bone, swelling with unnatural power. With a flick of his sword, Rex cut the tendrils that suspended it. The very station seemed to shriek underneath them, the bone tendrils spasming. Rex held the thing in mid-air, unwilling to touch it.

“What shall we do with it?” he asked the sergeant.

“Put it in a box. Take it back to Titan. We must study this,” replied the deep voice. Another Knight came forward with a purified small metal container, and Rex telepathically lowered the artifact inside and sealed the lid. With a mental command to the servitor, the Knights and Lord Inquisitor disappeared, teleported back to the Fury of Deimos. The starships of the Scoundrels and Inquisition erased any trace of the station, its memory gone forever. In its box, the cursed artifact pulsed, another relic to be taken back to the headquarters of the Grey Knights to be studied.

I hope you liked it. If you have any requests or want me to write about a specific group or person, please tell me! Wherever you are, have a great day.

#magnificent scoundrels #story #writing #my writing #crossover #empyrean iris #warhammer 40k #star wars #crossover story #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #sci-fi

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wanderinginksplot · 3 years

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Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 01338: Kix

They always say that medics make the worst patients, and it was doubly true in Kix's case. If he wasn't working in the medbay, all medical care was left to the droids, and their programming left a lot to be desired. At least the men had Kix to treat them. Kix had no organic to treat him if he was the one sick.

At the moment, he was fairly certain he wasn't sick. Sure, his head ached so badly that his stomach threatened to rebel and it hurt to move any part of his body, but that could be explained by any number of ailments. Maybe it had always hurt to swallow, breathe, and blink, and he just hadn't noticed.

On the off chance that he wasn't as well as he thought, Kix had been working to stave off any illness floating around the Resolute. He took in extra liquids and got as much sleep as possible. Since he practically lived in the medbay, sleep was a challenge, but he was trying.

Kix pulled his head up from the surface of his desk, groaning as he did so. The shift in position made his head throb worse than before, but that wasn't why he was cursing. When had he fallen asleep? He was less than halfway through the ever-present stack of medical forms taking up half of his desk, and with no troopers in the medbay, he needed to do as much work as possible before the next crisis hit.

"That didn't sound very rested," a voice remarked from closer than Kix was comfortable with.

He turned quickly, took a moment to huff out a breath and clutch at his head, and stared into Rex's amused eyes. "Captain. When did you get here?"

"About ten minutes ago. I watched you fall asleep on your forms."

"Did you need something, sir?" Kix asked, wincing. Why were the medbay lights so bright? "Is everything all right?"

"Actually, no," Rex told him. "I have a sick trooper who won't accept medical treatment."

"I'll set him straight," Kix promised grimly. "Who is it?"

"You, obviously," Rex said, the amusement on his face now tinged with concern. "Kix, you're dead on your feet."

"I'm fine, sir."

"Then you won't mind if we power up one of the medical droids to double-check that?"

Kix grimaced. "You want to use one of those shu-shuk machines? They have a success rate of-"

"-55%" Rex finished with him. "I know, Kix, you've told us all. But you're the only medic we've got, and you're clearly not going to treat yourself. The medical droids are the only option. Consider it an order."

"Sorry, sir," Kix reminded. "I have authority on all matters of health. Yours, the men's, and mine. I outrank you in this."

"In this," Rex echoed, frowning forebodingly. "Fifteen push-ups, soldier. That's an order that has nothing to do with medicine."

"Captain-"

"I'm serious, Kix. Fifteen push-ups and I'll drop the medical droid stuff."

"Get ready to lose, Captain," Kix said with a grin. Rex returned the expression, but there was worry on his face.

Five down. This is gonna be so easy…

Eight in and I feel fine. I knew I wasn't sick.

Okay, Kix. You need to spend a little more time in the gym. You shouldn't be this winded after eleven push-ups.

...Why is my face so cold?

"Welcome back," Rex said blandly as Kix tried to raise himself from where he had collapsed on the floor. His arms wouldn't support the weight and he rolled onto his back instead.

"How many did I get to?"

"Thirteen," Rex told him. "Not bad. I thought you would pass out by six or seven."

"I didn't pass out," Kix argued.

"Of course not. I know how much you love lying down with your face pressed against the medbay floor," Rex agreed dryly. "I took the opportunity to power up a med droid. Pick a bed."

Kix glared, but Rex unsympathetically propelled him toward a bed as soon as he was standing. Before he could voice any further complaints, Kix found himself on a bed being scanned by a med droid.

"CT-6116 is showing symptoms of an acute infection in both the sinuses and the upper respiratory tract. This has resulted in secondary symptoms as headache, difficulty breathing, dehydration, fatigue, dizziness, and muscle aches."

Kix glared at the medical droid, mostly to avoid the way Captain Rex was glaring at him. "So, with the typical droid success rate, we can safely rule out those two diagnoses."

"Karking hell, Kix!" Rex hissed in irritation. He took the scanner from the droid and rescanned Kix, passing over his body about four times too many. When he was finally done, he glanced at the screen. "Sinus infection and upper respiratory tract infection. Treat him."

The last bit was directed at the droid, who rummaged around in the med cabinet. Kix gritted his teeth as its rough-jointed metal hands knocked around, systematically destroying all of the organization he had managed in that small space.

"Why did you wait this long, Kix?" Rex asked sharply. "You're a medic. Surely, you've known for a while that you needed treatment."

"If a medic is currently undergoing treatment, he cannot continue to treat others," Kix explained reluctantly. "The risks of accidental malpractice are too high with the side effects of many medications."

Rex stared at him, dark brows furrowed. "The side effects are too much of a risk, but operating with a temperature that is well over standard isn't considered dangerous?"

"It is… or it probably should be," Kix admitted. "But it isn't written that way in the regs, so it isn't an explicit requirement."

Rex frowned even harder. "So… it's a loophole."

"Yes, exactly."

With a sigh, Rex scrubbed his hand over his close-cropped blond hair and collapsed onto Kix's well-worn chair, obviously pulled over from behind the medic's desk. "Do you realize the consequences of the choices you're making?"

Acutely uncomfortable with the knowledge that he had experienced this conversation from the other side far too many times to count - including with the captain himself - Kix shrugged. His answer didn't seem to be enough for the captain, who sat watching him for the (frankly ridiculous) length of time it took for the med droid to give him a dose of antibiotics and a cup of water.

"I know it may come as a surprise to you, but I do monitor the medbay logs," Rex finally said when the droid puttered off to fetch an antibiotic spray for Kix to inhale. "Do you know how much time you spend here?"

"I'm here every day, sir," Kix answered honestly, giving into the realization that Rex wasn't going to let it go.

"Yes, for three-quarters of the day. That gives you a collective five or six hours to shower, eat, and sleep. Judging from those push-ups, you don't spend any of that time training." Kix felt his face flush before he could stop it, but Rex wasn't done. "To put it another way, you've logged almost six-hundred hours in the medbay over the last standard month. That's a little over twenty-three full days out of thirty."

"When I'm not here, sir… men die. Brothers." Kix's voice cracked a little at the admission, but he kept his gaze firmly fixed on Rex, refusing to look away. Caring for his brothers was not a weakness and he wasn't ashamed of it.

The harsh expression on Rex's face softened into something like understanding, but his famously steely resolve didn't fade. "I'm tired, Kix. I'm so tired of watching my men - my brothers - die. I'll be damned if I watch you work yourself to death trying to keep others alive. You have to take care of yourself so that you can keep everyone else safe as long as possible."

He sat back in the chair, running a hand over his jaw as he thought. "Your medic's proficiencies can be pulled. You know as well as I do that the regs say I'm supposed to pull them for the first infraction. I don't want to do that, but I will if I don't see you taking better care of yourself. I won't have another one of these conversations, Kix. Is that understood?"

"Understood, sir," Kix agreed quickly, heart in his throat. So much of his identity was tied up in being a medic… he wasn't sure what he would do if his status was pulled from him.

Rex nodded at that and moved to leave the medbay, but Kix had one more thing to say: "I'm sorry, Captain."

"You will be," Rex said solemnly, the effect made more chilling by the bright smile that flashed across his face in the next moment. "I'm not going to stop any of the men from coming to visit you. That's the worst punishment I can think of."

Kix laughed uncertainly at the threat, but didn't understand it until an hour or so later, when the medbay doors opened to admit a mass of grinning troopers.

"Hey, Kix!" Hardcase greeted, far too loudly.

Commander Tano's grin was nothing short of evil. "We heard you weren't feeling well."

"Not only that," Jesse added with a smirk. "We heard you didn't accept treatment until you collapsed in front of Captain Rex!"

Tup schooled his face into a mock-serious expression. "It's dangerous to take risks with your health like that."

Kix took a deep breath and let it out slowly, staring at the medbay ceiling and cursing Rex internally. The captain was a cruel, cruel man…

---

A/N - Kix truly is the worst possible patient, but he needed a bit of his own medicine (ba-dum tss)! Sorry for the bit of Rex angst here, but in my mind, this is toward the end of the war, and everyone is getting mentally and emotionally tired. They made a point of mentioning it in the last season of the Clone Wars: sometimes, it's hard to be the one who survives. Also, on a lighter note, how long do you think Rex was working on that medical outranking work-around? My guess is since the time Kix made him stay in the medbay overnight!

Thank you for reading! I would be honored if you would consider reblogging so that my work can spread. There are only a few chapters left in this story, but it’s not too late! To those who have liked or reblogged my work in the past:

Okay, thank you, byeeeee!

#Nobody Listens to Kix #star wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #clone trooper kix #clone captain rex #captain rex #clone trooper hardcase #commander ahsoka tano #ahsoka tano #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper tup #clone troopers deserve better #more to come #please reblog

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writer-k-pop · 3 years

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Whatcha Doin?

이건 전체 과정입니다. It’s a whole process.

Description: Working in a well known dance studio, you’re used to idols filming things. But Seventeen’s Dino is different and you find him rather adorable. Don’t worry, he thinks the same of you. Warnings: None? Genre: Fluff, Idol!Dino x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.5k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"Hey, (y/n), do you need anything from the cafe?" Lia walked over with Ben, one of the male staff members. "We're taking a mass order since it's probably going to be a long night."

I diverted my eyes away from the computer screen and puckered my lips, "Mmm. Just an Americano." I said and Ben quickly added my order to the list on his phone.

"You got it." Ben said before he zoomed out of the studio.

"Are you sure you want to stay here?" Lia asked for the second time that night, "You really don't have to."

I shook my head, "It's fine. I want to stay." My words were true. I was always curious about the making of choreographies and that side of the dance world so whenever Lia stayed late, I usually did too, just watching from the sidelines. I dabbled in the dancing side but not the making side. That I could never figure out how to do.

She nodded her head and walked back into the studio where they were setting up, awaiting the arrival of our guests for the night.

Turning back to the computer, I resumed my task of adding new sign ups to their preferred classes. A few minutes later, four boisterous men walked in behind a calm, exhausted older male. They stop at my front desk; the male leading greeting me with a small smile while the other four have wide smiles painted on their face.

"Hi, which studio?" The lead male asked.

"Studio 6." I told him and pointed to the room where Lia had disappeared not too long ago.

"Thank you." He nodded and walked away.

The other four behind him smiled and thanked me but the shortest one kept his eyes on me a few seconds longer than the rest. With a small smirk, I gave him a small nod and he quickly turned around before I could catch the blush fully take over his cheeks.

I lowered my gaze and a rush of 'what did I just do' washed over me. I knew who they were before they even showed up. This filming had been in the schedule for WEEKS. It was Seventeen's Performance Unit filming a dance thing here. Yeah, I knew who they were, and I knew Dino was the one looking at me. So what possessed me to be so bold like that? Well, probably the small ounce of 'fuck it' that comes and goes with the wind. And boy, did it leave after they walked into the studio. Luckily, embarrassment was quick to fill it's spot.

I ruffled my hair to try and ignore the impending tsunami of anxious thoughts before attempting to refocus on my screen.

I had just finished compiling the list of participants for the classes in two days when I noticed someone approaching.

"Hello." I looked up at greeted Dino with a welcoming smile.

"Hey," He said, a bit nervous, then cleared his throat. "Where's the bathroom here?"

I pointed to the hallway behind me, "Down there. It'll be the 3rd door on your left."

Dino smiled in thanks, "Alright, cool. Thanks." He said before shuffling down the hallway.

My head followed him slightly as he walked away and a small laugh bubbled in my chest. There was no denying that he was cute.

"Hey, hey." Minghao rushed up to my desk, "Have you seen Dino?"

With wide eyes, I pointed behind me at the bathrooms. "Bathroom."

Minghao tapped the ledge once before quickly walking off to the bathrooms. Not 1 minute later, he walked back out with Dino in tow.

"I told you, you should've gone before we got here." Minghao scolded the youngest.

"Blah, blah, blah." Dino playfully imitated Minghao.

I covered my mouth with my fist before lowering my head to cover up the laugh I could barely hold back. As I regained control of my composure, Ben struggled through the doors with one too many drink carriers balanced in his arms. I shot around the desk and grabbed a couple carriers full of Americanos so a disaster didn't occur.

"Remind me never to go get drinks alone." Ben joked when he's made it inside.

"I really don't know why you tried it in the first place." I told him as we walked towards the studio to deliver the drinks.

As we passed my desk, I pulled one of the Americanos out and placed it on my desk so I wouldn't forget it later.

"I really thought I could do it." Ben explains, "14 drinks doesn't seem like a lot... But then you think about it." He finishes, his whole body emphasizing the panic he felt when he 'thought' about it.

I giggled, "I think we may need to set a limit for how many you're allowed to carry."

"I will carry as many as my heart desires." Ben puffed out his chest.

I tried to respond with a quip but the music started blasting, effectively drowning and ending our conversation. We waited at the doorway as the four male idols did a soft run through of their routine. I'd watched their practices online before but there was something different about watching them in person. Like something in the air changed. If I thought about it, it almost felt like the air was buzzing with electricity and the only thing I could do was stand there and let the goosebumps take over.

Even though it was only a soft run, Dino made sure to hit all the points with power and nothing about his soft run was soft. It was all done with precision except the motions weren't as big. My head tilted to the side in admiration and I was still staring when the song ended. So zoned out that Ben had to nudge me with his elbow.

I righted myself and began handing out the drinks. With all the drinks handed out, I retreat to my little cove in the front. The sight of my Americano sitting on my desk was a nice surprise considering I had indeed forgot that it was there. I sat in my chair, stabbed the straw into the lid, and casually sipped it while leaning back. I let myself relax for a few minutes before returning back to my unfinished tasks.

Click, click. Drag. Type. Drag. Click. The same boring tasks but the music seeping out of Studio 6 was my accompaniment so I was never really bored.

"MOVE!" Hoshi's screamed, slightly startling me, as he rushed out of the studio, making a beeline for the bathroom. "I HAVE TO PEE!"

I chuckled at him urgency and peered at my phone.

"Hey." Dino announced himself as he approached my desk.

"Hey." I said back, "How's it going in there?"

He shrugged, "Well... I think. We keep changing the choreography and then have to rerecord and it's a whole process."

I giggled, "I bet. The speakers seem to be working over time."

"They can handle it." Dino scoffed playfully, "So what are you doing here this late?" He asks.

"Well, I usually stay..." I trailed off as Hoshi's screams get closer.

"Alright! Let's do this!" Hoshi reached his hands up to the ceiling, "Come on, Dino!"

"Good luck." I said quietly to Dino as he hesitated to walk away but ended up following his leader.

I watched him until he fully disappeared into the studio and even then I stared at the empty door frame a little longer.

"Is there a ghost there?" Ben asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

He stood on the other side of the desk behind me. When I turned to look at him, he was leaning his forearms on the desk with a smug look on his face.

I rolled my eyes at him, "I was just zoning out." I explained.

"Zoning out on a guy you think is cute." Ben countered, his smugness growing.

"Like you haven't thought any of the idols that pass through here weren't cute." I scrunched my nose at him, teasingly.

"I have." Ben admitted, "But you haven't. Until now."

I scoffed out a laugh, "That's not true."

I could tell he wanted to banter more about the topic but a different staff member called for him and he had to answer the call.

After 20 minutes, they called for a break and immediately, Dino reappeared at my desk.

"I realized..." He took a few breaths, still winded from the dancing, "That earlier my question may have seemed... a little crude." I watched in amusement as he continued to catch his breath while simultaneously patting away the beads of sweat. "I was asking out of pure curiosity because when we go to other places, the front desk person usually isn't there."

I pulled out a couple tissues from the box near me and handed them over. He took the tissues with a smile and started ridding his face of the sweat.

"Well, for the record," I told him, "I thought it was pure curiosity. And I like staying late to watch and listen to these filming schedules. It's very interesting to me how it all works." I leaned closer and Dino instinctively does the same, "Plus, it gives me an excuse to come into work late tomorrow."

Dino nodded his head with his mouth slightly agape like I'd just told him the biggest life hack and he's impressed.

"Has anyone seen Dino?" Jun's voice yelled from inside Studio 6 and I laughed as Dino's eyes grew wide.

"Gotta go!" He whispered and dashed back into the studio with the tissues still in his hand.

I chuckled and shook my head. It was cute the way he kept trying to strike up a conversation with me only to be immediately called back in. It was also nice that someone wanted to talk to me that badly. It didn't happen very often. Most idols ignored me when they came to film. Only ever asking me where the bathroom is. The trivial questions.

Another 15 minutes and Dino ran out of the studio, screeching to a halt in front of my desk.

"Don't have much time." He exhaled, "What's your name?"

I was not expecting him to ask that so I paused for a split second before answering him. "Uh, (y/n)."

"(y/n). Pretty." Dino smiled up to his eyes and I only have a moment to put it to memory before he ran back.

I slumped back into my chair, not believing what had just occurred. He'd asked for my name and called it pretty. I pressed my lips together and tried to control the warmth rising to my cheeks.

"Are you, are you BLUSHING?" Ben exclaimed and stopped at my desk. He leaned over close to my face and I instinctively backed away, trying to play innocent.

"No." I covered my cheeks with my hands and pouted.

"BEN!" Lia screamed, "I swear to god if you're not back here in 5 seconds!!" She didn't have to finish the threat as her tone was enough of a threat.

Without another word, Ben rushed away and I bursted into laughter. I guess there was something in the air that day that made men decide to leave their positions and nearly get in trouble for it.

After 30 minutes of scrolling through the emails and listening to Lia bark out instructions over the blaring music, they finally recorded the perfect run through. I knew because the four Seventeen members all yelled in excitement and accomplishment. Also, the staff members in the room applauded their success.

My own smile of pride grew on my face as i listen to the relieved sighs and words of congrats echo through the place. Knowing that I'll be booted out as soon as everyone else is ready (which is freakishly fast), I quickly started to save and log off of the computer. The empty coffee cup went straight into the trash and I doubled checked the computer to make sure it's successfully turned off.

I was picking up my bag when the Seventeen members walked past with their manager. Hoshi and Jun snickered and pushed Dino towards the desk.

"Hey." I said with a smile, "From what I heard, you guys were successful."

Dino nodded, nervous under the watchful eyes of his hyungs. "Took a bit, but we got it."

"I can't wait to watch it when it gets released." I told him.

"Ask her." Minghao whispered to Dino but I could still hear him.

I glanced at the other three and scrunched my eyebrows in slightly confusion.

"Uh, uhm." Dino stuttered and cleared his throat, "If we exchanged numbers, I could send it to you before it's released?" He suggested.

"Is that even allowed?" I questioned, unsure if we'd be breaking any rules by me seeing the video before it's released.

"I can ask whoever I want for their number." Dino said confidently, misunderstanding my question, "It's my phone and my company can't decide who I talk to on my own time."

I pressed my lips together, trying real hard to hold back a laugh because damn, that was cute. His sudden defense to wanting my phone number was quite attractive. Behind Dino, Jun, Hoshi, and Minghao mirrored me but they were unable to keep their laughter in.

It caused Dino to pause and glance around. Then the realization hits him and I saw him mentally face palm himself so hard.

"I'm an idiot." He muttered and I reached into my desk for a notecard.

While Dino still reveled in his embarrassment, I grabbed a pen from the holder near him and quickly wrote down my name and number. Along with my social media user, just because.

"I would love it if you talked to me." I told Dino and handed the note over.

Dino took it in his hands and gave me a small smile of confidence. "I'll text you then."

"Car's here." Their manager called from the door.

"Well, see you around, (y/n)." Dino waved goodbye as they turned to the door.

"See you around Dino." I waved back and my heart fluttered in my chest.

Hoshi clapped Dino on the back and Minghao and Jun give him proud high fives.

"Our maknae!" I heard Hoshi exclaim before the door shuts firmly behind them.

I finished packing up my stuff and made my way around the desk. I waited a few minutes until Lia walked out behind all the other staff members leaving for the night.

"You're all set?" Lia asked, eyeing the bag over my shoulder.

"Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow?" I said.

"You don't have to back here until 1." Lia told me and I inwardly scream 'yes1'

But outwardly, I calmly said, "I'll see you then." And then I walked to the front door.

I stepped outside and made it a couple steps before my phone rang with a notification.

It was from an unknown number but the message instantly told me who it was from.

It read, "It's Dino. Hope you get home okay."

#kpop #kpop imagine #seventeen #seventeen imagine #seventeen dino imagine #dino imagine #lee dino imagine #lee dino #dino #seventeen chan #seventeen chan imagine #chan imagine #lee chan #chan #writer-k-pop

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