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theonemeathead · 3 months

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Sniper x Reader, "Quick Trip"

a sniper x reader smutfic! tw for afab anatomy, the implications of the word 'sheila'. enjoy!

August. One of the hottest months of the year, not to mention it was the hottest day in New Mexico yet. A ceasefire had been called until further notice, the temperature being down right deadly. There was no shade for miles, within the border of the Badlands.

Which just so happened to be where you lived. Your residence, currently, was Teufort's RED base. You had been on base for a couple of years now, you got along with everyone well enough; Some more than others.

Which leads you to the current situation.

You see, Sniper was about to leave on a joint-contract with Scout; Somewhere not nearly as blazing hot. And he was going to be gone for almost two weeks. Clearly, this didn't bode well with you as you stood, with crossed arms, in front of him. You had been begging him all day to let you tag along, but he refused, insistently.

"Mundy, this isn't fair! The AC in the base is broken, you gotta—!"

"I said no, sheila," he cut you off, his tone stern. Of course, you didn't take well to being talked over, especially by your boyfriend. You furrowed your brow, opening your mouth to speak, when you were interrupted, yet again.

"Sick! Ya coming with us?" Ah, Scout. His Boston accent never failed to amuse you, especially with the mischievous glint in his eyes whenever he spoke. He smiled wide, hopeful that you could maybe make the car ride a little less dull. Sniper usually wasn't one for small talk, you were lucky if you could even get a head nod out of him.

"No." "Yes!"

You and Sniper said in unison, he shot you a nasty side eye from behind his aviators. You never understood how Sniper was able to take the heat so easily. He was still wearing his full uniform, boots and all. You had half a mind not to strip naked with how unbearable the temperature was. However, still somewhat sane, decided against that and listened to your better judgement for once.

"Aw, c'mon, Snipes, let 'em tag along! At least they talk," Scout tried to reason, taking your side. Sniper sighed dramatically, grumbling something you couldn't quite understand. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at you.

"You're both insufferable. Get in." Your eyes lit up immediately. You had gotten your way, per usual. You clambered into the vehicle, sitting directly in the middle between the other two mercenaries. The black leather seats had definitely seen their fair share of wear and tear, various holes burned from dropped cigarettes, some exposed, yellow foam from the peeling material... But Sniper loved his van. In between your legs was the comically long stick-shift. The handle was slightly chipped away and the design faded from being used so often. Sniper refused to drive anything but manual, because it's 'the right way' he said. With a loud sigh, Sniper had pulled himself in on the driver's side, buckling his seat belt in one swift motion. He clicked the key forward in the ignition, the camper sputtering to life. It was definitely old and in desperate need of repair. The bushman reached forward for the gearshift, his rough hands accidentally brushing the top of your knee as he put the car into 1st gear. Normally, gestures such as this didn't get to you. But, something felt off about it this time.

The first 10 minutes of the car ride turned out to be a bust. Sniper was too focused on the road and Scout was knocked out, cold. The only sound was the distant crackling of the radio and the soft snores from your teammate. You had one exciting moment when Sniper went to shift to 3rd, his hand grazing your leg yet again. You shot him a quick glance, unsure if it was on purpose on not. Sniper wasn't one to tease. You leaned forward with a sigh, slightly turning the dial on the radio to the right. It was set on a classic rock station currently playing a song by Men At Work. You didn't know much about the band, besides the fact Sniper really liked them.

"I love this song." Sniper's gruff voice had come out slightly whispery. You squirmed a little in your seat. Did he always have this affect on you? His Aussie accent had rang through you ears. It was such a simple string of words, but coupled with the fleeting touches, it was... different. About an hour and a half into the car ride, Sniper made the executive decision to stop at a gas station a couple miles up the road. With Scout still asleep, Sniper pulled up to the pump, slamming the breaks to scare the sleeping Bostonion awake. With an abrupt 'oof', Scout was up and ready to fight immediately.

"What—! What is it?! What happened, are we dead??" He yelped, looking around frantically. Scout paused, huffing when he saw that you were all just in park. "You guys are freakin' assholes, I'm gonna go take a leak."

With the 3 of you filing out of Sniper's front seat, you watched as Scout stretched and walked towards the gas station itself. Behind you, Sniper had already unscrewed the gas cap, removing the nozzle and forcing it into the tank. With a simple 'click', diesel fluid immediately began pouring out. Sniper stared at it for a second before abruptly pulling on the handle of the side door of the van, exposing the inside to you. Confused, you looked up at him.

"I told ya I didn't want you coming on this trip, roo." His tone was dark, almost sadistic. Your brows pinned up, a bit of fear beginning to creep through your system. Sniper never took a tone with you. He turned to you, his eyes hidden behind his yellow-tinted aviators. You swallowed thickly, afraid of what was next. "Come here."

You obeyed, stepping closer to him timidly. Immediately, you were manhandled, almost thrown into the back of his camper van. You stared in surprise, yelping as he slammed the door closed behind the both of you. You didn't have time to react before he was on you, his mouth meeting yours. The kiss wasn't pretty or experienced as his teeth clacked against yours, his lips bruising and hungry. He must've been pent up, watching you flaunt yourself around in that low-cut tanktop and those too-short shorts. Just as fast as he had started, he had pulled away. The marksman looked you up and down, as if you were nothing but prey.

"This is the entire reason I didnt want'cha to come, darl'. Just can't keep my bloody hands off ya."

A flash of red was all you saw before you were flipped onto your stomach, Sniper using his long limbs to entangle your arms behind your back. He had you like a wrangled animal, trapped and helpless. He grunted quietly, cursing under his breath as he kept you pinned with one arm. He used his one free hand and made quick work of your bottoms, sliding them, along with your underwear, down to rest just below your ass. You jolted at the feeling of his caloused hand immediately delving into your folds, as if to relax you. A low whimper left your throat, the feeling of his long, thick fingers tracing themselves inside of you, curling to hit the right spot.

You didn't have much time, however, and Sniper knew this. He retracted his fingers, sucking whatever juices was on them off. The clinking of a belt, along with shuffling fabric excited you further. Although you couldn't look back, you could feel him start to guide his long length towards your aching hole. He slid into you, slowly. Sniper wasn't thick per se, but he was definitely long. The head of his cock practically kissed your insides in all the right places. With how wet you were, you didn't need much time to accommodate his size. Snapping his hips into your ass, you could feel every drag of his cock, every pulse and vein. His pace started off bruising, the hand keeping you pinned down began leaving crescent-shaped indents from his fingernails.

There was something primal about this. The heat had burned extra hot that day, and so did your lover, it seemed. He reached his free hand under you, beginning to rub sloppy circles on your clit. Shortly after, you eyes had screwed shut, a line of drool beginning to leak from your mouth. The campervan had rocked slightly with each thrust, your pants and pleas falling upon deaf ears as Sniper used your body. It wasn't long until you tried to warn him, maybe a little too late.

"Mick, I—!" Before you could continue, you had came, your own moan cutting you off. Sniper had a sick, twisted smile, letting go of your arms to focus fully on grabbing your hips. He had started slamming your overstimulated, quivering cunt back into him. It sent shocks through your body, the pleasure quickly turning to pain as it became too much

"Fuck, I love ya, roo. I'm gonna fill ya right up, make ya mine." His thrusts grew erratic, almost sloppy, as a string of curses and praise left his lips as he hilted himself fully inside of you. You heard a small groan, followed by some deep breaths as Sniper came inside of you. With a groan, he pulled out, his cock growing softer by the second. He yanked his pants up, buckling his belt back with extreme ease and skill. There was no time for aftercare. He helped you slide your clothes back up, your trembling thighs sending delight through him. He picked his slouch hat up from off the ground, dusting it off. He held a crooked smile as he placed it atop your head, the hat much too big for you. He had finished pumping gas, screwing the cap back on before leaning against the front of his Chevy.

"Where's Scout?"

"I paid him $20 to piss off somewhere for like half an hour. He'll be back soon, love."

#tf2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #tf2 sniper x reader #sniper x reader #sniper tf2 x reader #sniper tf2 #tf2 fandom

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bahbahhh · 10 months

Text

begin again

a lot of change happens in between Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. let’s fill in the gaps.

zelda pov | zelink | totk spoilers | rated T zelinkweek2023 | @zelinkcommunity

[first] [previous] [ ao3 ]

ao3 appears to be back up more consistently, but I will continue to post full chapters on tumblr.

your comments, kudos, reblogs, likes, feral tags, questions, curiosities, are all so appreciated. seriously, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

read on ao3

chapter 3

for the prompt “letters”

‘You sure?’ Link signs with one hand. He’s sifting through the chest at the foot of his bed, layers of silk and cotton and wool in every color around his feet. He’s started clearing out unessential belongings from the Sheikah Slate in preparation for his travel and by the looks of it, – there are piles of material everywhere (gemstones, rock salt, a heap of shields, a basket of Hinox toenails) – he seems a little overwhelmed he has to manage the sorting manually once again.

Zelda leans her back against the banister lining the loft that overlooks the main floor to his home. There is a bundle of blue nightshade in the vase by his bed. It glows dimly in the absence of sunlight through the window, like a children’s bedside candle. She used to have one to ward off nightmares after her mother died.

“I’m sure,” Zelda answers and glances back at the nightshade. Does he just prefer them or does he need the glow? After he emerged from the Shrine of Resurrection, when she was still able to watch over him while he slept, in the shade of a tree, in a corner bed of a traveler’s stable, by a small fire in the wild, she would sometimes catch him jolting into consciousness. Frantically reaching for whatever weapon was laid to rest beside him, pulling back from the spot his body had been, as if trying to escape something unseen and unyielding. For some reason, she always imagined a dozen hands reaching out for him from the dark of his dreams.

He stops sifting through the chest at the foot of his bed and turns to face her. ‘It’s cold.’

“Yup.”

“Really cold,” he says out loud.

“I remember.” She flinches as the words roll off her tongue. Such a simple phrase and yet, spoken to him, after all he’s been through, it feels like a knife in her hands. She knows he’s just being honest, thoughtful even, but the insecure parts of her claim he doesn’t want her to come. She crosses her arms over her chest and tries to keep the edge out of her tone. “I’d like to see the Spring.”

It's the last shrine in the region for Link to clear. Tomorrow he’ll be off to Eldin to start on the shrines there and then he’ll work his way east. An urgent message came in about a week ago from the Gorons. The lava appears to be cooling and they fear Death Mountain will fall dormant before they can commit Vah Rudania into the central vent. No one can recall a time when the Gorons expressed urgency, so Link’s original journey was revised.

It’s taken two full months to plot out Link’s path. They have to be somewhat strategic about the shrines because he loses the ability to fast travel when he clears one, which isn’t much of an issue at the start, but as the shrines disappear, he will need to rely more upon horseback or foot to navigate back and forth. He is to clear a region, take a monster census, check in with the group running point on the guardian removal, load whatever is left into the Sheikah Slate, and then move onto the next region. They estimate he can clear at least three shrines a day. Originally, the plan proposed more, but Link hinted at the unpleasant side effects of excessive Slate travel and the Summit unanimously agreed to accept whatever he could manage.

Purah estimates if they stay on track, all Sheikah Technology could be gone in a year.

A year.

Link turns back to the trunk. He fishes out a tunic, vest, and trousers, embroidered with the symbols of Rito Village, and tosses them in her direction. Zelda lunges forward to catch it all, weighing them in her arms carefully. Impossibly light for how thick the material is, she can smell the crispness of Tabanthan wind, like it’s woven into the fabric itself.

She blinks. “Is this your snowquill set?”

He nods.

“You’ve just finished telling me how cold Mount Lanayru’s peak is.”

He nods and holds up an emerald green doublet. The right sleeve is badly torn.

Zelda shakes her head, holding out the snowquill set to him. “ I don’t need–”

He gives her a look. It will take him all of a minute to clear the shrine with the Slate, but they have to travel by foot down the mountain to Kakariko because he’s already cleared the rest of the surrounding shrines (hence the need for strategy moving forward).

“I can wear the doublet,” she insists. He rolls his eyes. The ease with which he accepts personal discomfort has always bothered her, but especially now when it is on her behalf. She wants to tell him doesn’t own her anything, not his best cold gear, not his smile; that she’s better equipped to handle being uncomfortable than most after standing in a festering spring of rot and oil for a hundred years, but before she can protest further, he lifts his shirt up over his head.

Scars weave like roads on a map across his chest, memories of pain etched forever into olive skin, the worst of which a blossom of twisted flesh on his left side where the guardian carved an entire piece of him out with a fatal glare all those years ago. It’s memory she wishes would erode with time, but clear as the day it happened, she can still feel the scream he let out when it hit him in her teeth.

He pulls his head through the hole in the doublet and makes eye contact with her. Zelda busies herself with folding and refolding the snowquill set over her arm. She can see him shifting in her peripheral, pulling off his pants, rummaging around the trunk for another pair and some boots that will protect him against the mountain. When he’s satisfied and set, he grabs the Master Sword and exits the loft wordlessly, gifting her privacy when he takes none for himself. She’s left to change and try to diffuse the electric current running across her skin.

Somehow, she does, only for it to return the second she comes down the main floor and he tells her they have to be touching in order for the Sheikah Slate to transport them both.

“What?” She tries to keep her voice steady. Link holds the Slate out, inspects the space between them, and then steps directly into her. They stand toe to toe, so close she can smell the pepper from the elixir on his breath. “You’ve- uh- you’ve done this before?”

He shakes his head and lifts his gaze to look at her through pale lashes. She can see specks in his eyes so blue it’s like something is always lit behind them. “It’s only meant for me, right?” he says. “It has to register you as part of me.”

“Oh,” Zelda would be fascinated if her stomach wasn’t knotted so tight. “Should I…?” She lifts her hands toward his chest, hesitating.

He nods. Zelda swallows. Come on, you walked into the mouth of ethereal darkness completely alone, you slayed the Great Calamity and purged all its malice from the realm, you can touch him. She wraps her arms around his middle and tucks her head into his shoulder. She feels him lift up onto his toes so he can see the Slate, hears him select the shrine, and then the world bleaches white.

It’s an incredibly awful feeling; to exist and then just not; to splinter into a million pieces of burning magic. At least when she was with the Calamity, her physical body remained, acting like an anchor inside the neverending storm of magic. If there is any doubt inside her about the validity of Link’s theory, about Sheikah Technology being powered by spirit energy, there isn’t now. With her soul is exposed and pulsing like a nerve, she can sense the entirety of the Sheikah Technology network - all the shrines, every guardian, the towers stretching up into the sky, the furnaces burning outside the Labs - all these things without a mouth suddenly have one, and they open wide and desperate, and begin to siphon energy from her.

She comes back to herself in pieces, and when there is enough for her to cling to him, she does, gasping Lanayru’s frigid air into her lungs. She immediately starts shivering violently– although it feels more from shock than from cold.

He leans back enough to see her face, his hands on her, smoothing hair back from her eyes. He opens his mouth, but his voice doesn’t quite leave his throat. She watches him give up on speech quickly, and instead, tilts his head with concern.

“D-does it feel that terrible to you?” She gasps.

Link nods. She can see all the color has completely drained from his face. His eyes are sunken, the glow in the speckles now dim, like he’s been wounded and is bleeding out.

She hates that she knows what that looks like.

“Every time?”

He’s still inspecting her. Maybe making sure all of her made it back. When he’s satisfied, he steps back and bends over to retrieve the Sheikah Slate which sits in the snow, several inches deep, at their feet. He must have dropped it when he reached for her face. Or it just fell when they reappeared. That’s more likely, she tells herself.

He nods again, and signs, ‘I didn’t try it again for a year after the first time.’

Zelda often thinks about why it took Link so long to enter the Sanctum. Initially, after he gained the paraglider and the Runes, he launched himself off the Great Plateau and made a beeline for the castle. Zelda watched him march through the ruins of their fallen kingdom, seemingly fearless and determined to reach her, until he walked into the nest of hostile guardian stalkers crawling over the bones of Castle Town. Calamity slipped out of her hands for a moment, and swirled into the sky to greet him, spewing a fountain of malice so high into the atmosphere it stained the moon. Link ran all the way to Blatchery Plain and didn’t step foot in Central Hyrule again for nearly two years.

Fear was a big part of it, but as Zelda watched him grow stronger, as memory started to return to him, she couldn’t help but feel like he was searching the Wild for something that could strip him of the destiny he could barely remember. Something that could sever the connection between them. She willed herself to give him grace, to smother the resentment that began to fester in every extra inch he put between himself and the castle. How could she damn him for running from fate when she herself resisted it as long as she could?

Those thoughts are even uglier now, having experienced what it was actually like to use the technology that waited ten thousand years for him. That was made for him.

“Link, you can’t do that more than once a day,” She wraps her arms around herself and shakes her head.

‘It’s what needs to be done,’ he signs.

“No,” Zelda steps forward. He doesn’t retreat, so they are close enough to touch again. She holds herself tighter to keep from reaching for him. “It’s not. I’m serious. We don’t need to do this so it's over in a year. We have time. We have help, now. ”

He looks at her for a long minute. His expression is painfully neutral at first, guarded, but then it softens and at the same time, life starts to bleed back into his cheeks. He reaches out and grips her shoulder, firm enough to register between the layers of Rito feathers; enough to reach the parts of her that feel lost and guilty and alone.

Link makes for the shrine. Zelda inhales and blinks the tears from her eyes, trying to hold onto the warmth he’s ignited inside her while his back is turned. The Spring invites her forward. She sets her jaw and glares at the eerily still water, unable to lift her eyes to the statue even though she can make out the reflection of the Goddess in the water.

Does she pray? Speaking of running from destiny and owing nothing. Is devotion all she has to offer? Is it all they expect of her? She can see Link at the shrine in the cave just beyond the Spring. There is a flash of bright light and then a slow creep of darkness as the shrine disappears. She’s squeezing herself so tight her arms begin to ache, fighting against the muscle memory of where her hands go when she’s standing in this spot.

No, she’ll never pray again, but the thing that was supposed to occupy her hands, the key to her new sense purpose, all of it will be gone in a year. It’s already gone from this place. All that is left is the statue and ice and waters that know her more than she seems to know herself.

The wind on Lanayru’s peak is as brutal as it was a century ago. It rips at her exposed skin, and she’s immediately grateful to be wearing more than she had the last time she climbed to the top. When she climbed to the top…

Something pulls at the back of her skull, a nagging tiny detail she’s suddenly aware she is missing. It’s enough to force her gaze up to the Goddess, who has her blank eyes fixed on Zelda, waiting, as unhelpful as ever.

Zelda can’t stop the question from pushing past her lips the second he’s within earshot.

“What’s the date?”

He pauses.

“Today’s date?” She repeats. “What is it?”

He tells her.

It’s her birthday.

The same day a hundred years ago she failed in this very spot and the Calamity emerged, bringing terror and death and the near end of the world. If he remembers, it doesn’t register on his face. He just looks cold and a little confused. No one else would remember the date, everyone it was significant to is dead.

‘What’s wrong?’ He sweeps his hands in front of her face to get her attention. She didn’t see him approach her through the swarm of her thoughts.

Above their heads, Naydra, a ribbon of ice, circles the mountain and lets out a groan.

“Nothing. It’s just I’m…I’m 18.” Zelda replies in a hollow tone. Even as she says it, it doesn't feel true. She can’t decide if she feels eighteen or a hundred and eighteen. It is just a date, and somehow, it’s the same as the moment he recommended they destroy the Sheikah Technology and Hyrule rallied, the instant she realized Purah has been circling Sheikah Towers on maps, when the shrine by his house disappeared into nothing before her eyes.

It’s time to move on.

Link was right. It is cold. Pillars of crystal blue ice curve into fingers that point down. Away from the Spring and prayers she will never say again, in the direction of a spot in the distance, maybe the same the Sheikah Eye looks to now, that Zelda can’t quite see, but everyone else seems to trust.

Snow begins to fall in sheets of white, a storm summoned by Naydra’s descent. It rapidly begins covering the path ahead. If she doesn’t move her feet soon, she risks becoming trapped. Frozen.

The fire his touch lit inside her goes out. She looks at him and the light behind his eyes. She’s so desperate for warmth and Purah said it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, anyway-

Zelda lunges forward into his arms, buries her face in the doublet she should be wearing, and lets out a sob that is swallowed by the wind.

—-

Three weeks after Link leaves for Eldin, a letter arrives in Hateno addressed to her.

Zelda stayed behind to focus on phase two of the restoration efforts. That has always been the plan, but when she watched Link disappear, face caged by the helm of his flamebreaker armor because he was teleporting right into the beating heart of Death Mountain to see the cooling lava for himself, she couldn’t help but feel regret she didn’t ask to go with him.

Purah put her to work immediately. There are a few moments that have felt good even without Link there, like when they helped Reede figure out how to update the irrigation system, meaning the village can plan to double their crops next year; or whenever Purah pulls her aside to get her thoughts on the Anti-Aging Rune.

It’s what needs to be done.

His words replay over and over again in her head. They keep her from doing selfish things, like looking over the proposal stuffed under her bed or cocooning herself away from the world in her tiny cot in Purah’s study. They have a kingdom to restore and jobs to be done; roles to define. Now is not the time to be self-serving. It is time to move forward. To let go of the past. Bury what she can’t destroy.

Zelda,

I’m hoping the letter survives the heat. When I’m close to the belly of the mountain, my arrows start smoking. Took your advice. There are only ten shrines in Eldin and no one seemed to notice I was a day behind schedule when I reached Goron City. I’m not saying I won’t use fast travel when I need to, but it feels easier to travel how I prefer after what you said. Thanks.

The bike helps. Did you know I have one? It is shaped like a horse. Climbs the rocky terrain around the mountain pretty good and I don’t feel guilty like I would if it was one of my own. The horse god would have my head. I’ve never asked her what she thinks about a Divine Beast in her liking.

Anyway, it’s the only thing I think I’ll miss about the Tech.

Will you write to me? I meant to ask before I left, but it never felt like the right time. Would give me something to look forward to.

Link

Zelda rereads the last sentence three times. Every inch of her is warm and buzzing. Her heart rabbits against her breast so hard she has to set down the letter and fold over herself, pulling air in through her nose until everything slows enough for her to form a coherent thought.

She has a response ready before the sun sets the same day.

Link,

I’m glad to hear you are taking care of yourself. Have you been able to rest, too? You said you were a day behind schedule, which means you still traveled dozens of miles of craggy terrain in record time. If you are looking to make a habit out of my taking my advice, please prioritize your rest.

I didn’t know about the bike. It was more challenging to watch over you toward the end and I’m assuming that’s when you received it. Did I ever tell you I did that? If these letters are meant to have a theme, I suppose I should share something, too, right?

I would be happy to write to you. I will be leaving for Tarrey Town in a month’s time. I’m not sure when this letter will reach you or when you’ll have time to respond, but I’m to meet with Hudson to hear the rough proposal for rebuilding efforts across Hyrule once the Sheikah Technology is gone.

Everything is moving so fast. I suppose it all feels fast to me now. It’s a good thing, right?

Zelda

His letter breathes new life into her final days in Hateno. She borrows an old shirt out of Link’s trunk, rolls up the sleeves, and volunteers to help Dantz and his sister Koyin build out the fence for more livestock. The learning curve is pretty steep, she’s never had so much dirt cakes under the fingernails, and although Koyin seems a little annoyed with her at the start, when Zelda shows up with the sun the following morning, ready to work, the tension dissipates by noon.

His next letter comes a week later.

Zelda,

I’m resting when I need to. I hope you are, too.

We never talked about that, but it makes my memories of that time feel less lonely now. Thank you.

Eldin has the least amount of shrines and guardians, so I’ll be heading east soon. I’ve got the cores.The Gorons plan to use most of the guardian metal in their restoration territories to reinforce the mines closer to the volcano since it withstands the heat well.

They are sending Vah Rudania into the fire tomorrow morning. It still feels as hot as hell up here, but they are convinced something is changing inside the mountain and want to get it over with. They will be splitting their aid between Central Hyrule and Akkala to help the Hylians once it's all said and done. Yubuno is leading the charge to Akkala. Say hi to him if you see him. He’s more useful than he gives himself credit for.

Hudson’s an interesting guy. Watch yourself – not like he’s dangerous or anything, but he’ll have you running errands for him if you aren’t careful. He’s good at selling what he’s invested in and nothing is more important to him than forward motion. Except maybe his wife, Rhondson. I think they had their baby girl right before the Summit. He was anxious about being away. Can’t remember the name.

If the building is up to Hudson, it’ll be in good hands.

It does feel fast, but at the end of it all, it's just another year. Important things take time.

Link

His penmanship is challenging. She can tell he’s either walking or riding while he writes by the blotches of ink and the aggressive slant in his writing which means either he’s lying about the rest, or he’s multitasking because of it.

They exchange several letters in the six months she spends in Tarrey Town. Hudson is passionate about what he’s good at, and she learns more about infrastructure and the philosophy of construction than she imagined possible. She watches him raise three new homes from nothing in the time she is there. Everyone in the village plays a part, down to the children who paint the stamps of the town’s symbol; a heart, which Hudson says is the most essential resource they have for the restoration ahead. It’s the kind of thing a real leader says. She’s learned better than to get ahead of herself, but the idea Hyrule could grow without her needing to take the throne, where she is bound to fail them again, if someone like Hudson guided them takes root.

She half-jokingly starts referring to him as President Hudson.

Zelda also spends time with his infant daughter, Mattison, whose tiny fingers and bright emerald eyes give Zelda enough strength to keep her teary eyes on the horizon when Purah announces she and Robbie have a plan for the Sheikah Towers– tear them down, too. They propose erecting brand new towers, called Skyview Towers, and they think they can power them entirely with sunlight. A formal prototype of the device to connect them all is also in the works: the Purah Pad.

Link makes it to Hebra. There are significantly more shrines and a graveyard of decaying guardians in the canyon that splits Rowan Plain and southern Tabantha. The Gorons he traveled with take most of the metal back to Death Mountain, so he goes up into the snowfields alone and takes out a white-maned lynel by the North Lomei Labyrinth. This is one of the regions their strategy must be followed closely, otherwise he risks getting stranded in a blizzard without shelter. He bounces back and forth between Rito Village and the shrines scattered across the mountain range over the course of several weeks. He sends her feathers, and braids of colored rope, and receipts from his stays at Swallows’s Roost and Snowfield stable. She sends him a cherry red Akkala forest leaf and an order from Hudson for a hundred and thirty six bundles of cedar.

Link sends back a twig.

He’s surprisingly witty, but by the time he’s reached Faron, his humor runs out. His letters grow taciturn, more reflective of how he is in person. He reports on cursory things like the weather and the lack of ingredients for a proper meal. The only glimpse into what he’s feeling comes with how he signs his last letter:

I never want to see another shrine again.

By her estimate, he’s still got at least three dozen shrines left between Central Hyrule, Necluda, and Akkala, so she avoids mentioning anything about them and instead, asks where his favorite place in Hyrule is, hoping to break up the droning routine of his days and coax something hopeful back out of him.

She doesn’t hear from him for six weeks.

Impa tells her to try not to worry, that he’s known for disappearing for much longer and now that he is known, someone is bound to recognize him and will send an update of whatever has sidetracked him in good time. The lack of urgency from the Sheikah makes her blood boil. Even Paya, who has been known to worry about too much dust and heirlooms, doesn’t seem all that concerned with Link’s whereabouts. It makes Zelda wish she was anywhere else; makes her long for a home she could run back to and slam the door. It’s not their fault the way the wind moves through the pass to Telta Lake reminds her of the sound he made when his last breath rattled past his lips, or the fact she’s barely slept because she’s watching the skies for a Blood Moon (there hasn’t been once since Calamity Ganon defeat). Even though she has no way to warn him properly, it's the only way she feels useful. Like visiting the Spring of Wisdom, or the pause that grips her everytime she passes the inlet to the Goddess statue in the center of Kakariko, or blaming Hylia, it’s another old habit from her old life that activates whenever she feels useless.

She’s about to write to Prince Sidon for help when the updates come in. All the shrines in East Necluda, including the one that sat on top of Eventide Island, are gone. Link was last seen riding a draft horse in the direction of Central Hyrule. Another report says he’s been seen near Lake Hylia, heading north toward the Great Plateau.

The letter arrives soon after.

I’m standing in the broken cathedral on the Great Plateau. I guess they call it a temple. It feels like it might have been holy once. Maybe it was the place where something significant happened, or something important was hidden, but if that is true, it's long gone. It's just the first of many empty, rusted places that have told me about myself since I woke up. This is the place where I learned ghosts could speak and I could hear them. It’s also where I first heard your name.

I followed the plan and came here after the Gerudo region was done. It took me half a day to clear all the shrines. Only the Shrine of Resurrection was left. I was going to paraglide off the northeast wall toward Lake Hylia and prepare for Faron. That’s my problem. I’m always ten steps ahead. Most of the time I have to be.

Zelda, I completely froze. I stood outside the Shrine for an afternoon that turned into another and then another, trying to pull myself together, screaming at my feet to just move, but I couldn’t do it. It feels like the Shrine knows I’m here. Like it’s waiting for me to step back inside. The more and more I stare at this stupid cave, the more I see a mouth that will close the moment I’m inside.

So I left, took care of Faron, came back, left again and went to Necluda.

You want to know where my favorite place in Hyrule is? There is a spring on top of a waterfall north of Lake Floria. It's where I first saw Farosh. Came right out of the water and climbed up into the sky above my head. Nearly scared me to death. I can’t really explain it well, but it's where I realized I wanted to actually be here. Ruins and wild and all. It's where I realized I wanted to be the one to save Hyrule. To save you.

I followed Farosh back to the plateau this time. I took one of her scales for courage. Imagine that. I know what I have to do. Just like I did back then, even when I was running and telling myself they had the wrong guy, or if I made them wait long enough, they would find someone else.

It’s just, sometimes it feels like this destiny asks too much, you know?

I know what I have to do. And I will. As selfish as it sounds, I just wish you were still with me.

Link

She wipes her mouth. As much as her fingers shake with it, as badly as she wants to pour her heart into a reply – because she knows exactly what he’s saying when he talks about destiny and feeling selfish and needing courage– the letter feels like a plea–

A prayer.

She shivers like she did on Lanayru. There is gold on her tongue, the taste of pure sunlight and falling stars. Why is it only in moments when he’s suffering can she summon this Power? She pushes the words as they form in her head across all the miles between them, trying to imagine them soaring like birds to where he waits. She tries to imagine them reaching for him and his head turning to the sound–

But there is no way for her to see him now. She’s not confident the magic is even really there, so when the buzz leaves her fingertips and she can actually grip a pen, she sends those words in a letter, too.

Link,

Come to Kakariko. I’ll go with you. I’m always with you.

You don’t have to do this alone.

Zelda

end notes- This fic is set in the same story as like someone would” You don’t have to read it, but it might add a little extra context to this chapter in particular, especially since that fic is Link’s POV.

#totk spoilers #totk #totk fanfiction #totk fanfic #totk zelink #botw zelink #botw #breath of the wild #loz #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #loz totk #zelinkweek2023 #zelinkcommunity #bahbahhhart #bahbahhhwrites #begin again

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throughthetwistedmirror · 9 months

Text

First Unbirthday Together ~ *Heartslabyul*

Summary: You’ve been invited to an Unbirthday party at the Heartslabyul dorm! This time without all the overblot nonsense!

Pairing: N/A

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 520

Warning: N/A

Masterlist

Taglist: @savanaclaw1996 @goseew

It was Riddle who approached you, with encouragement from Trey. With fiddling fingers and wandering eye contact, he said, “Prefect, on behalf of Heartslabyul, we would like to invite you to our next Unbirthday party.”

When you agreed, Riddle merely nodded before rushing off. Arriving at the dorm, both him and Trey mobilized the Heartslabyul students to create the best Unbirthday party in the history of the dorm. Cater gathered ideas from social media and both Ace and Deuce were in charge of manual labor. Trey was head of baking and Riddle oversaw all of the preparations, being the Housewarden and all.

The whole dorm was in a frenzy. Everything had to meet Riddle’s impossible standards. If anything, he got even more demanding! Ace complained frequently behind his back, eventually earning himself a scolding from Trey. Cater documented everything for Magicam. And Deuce almost spoiled the surprise before Ace could stop him.

Finally, the day of the party rolled around. You arrived, smiling and carrying a small parcel. It was Trey and Cater who met you at the front of the dorm. While Cater was live streaming, Trey asked about the bag in your hand.

“Oh, well, where I come from, it’s customary to give the host a gift.” You explained.

“Well, that’s very sweet of you. Thank you!” Trey took the present before escorting you to the gardens where the party was taking place.

Riddle, Ace, and Deuce greeted you next. Riddle led you to the seat of honor and presented you with a tray full of a wide array of tarts. “Take your pick, Prefect. They were made especially for you.”

“For me? Oh, you shouldn’t have!” You exclaimed, before selecting one of the delicious sweets.

You ate with the students, laughing and sharing both tea and stories. You seemed to be having such a good time, the Heartslabyul boys couldn’t help but beam with pride. They were glad they could share such a joyous afternoon with you in the gardens.

As the party started to wind down, the six of you were finishing up a card game and some more tea. Setting your cup down, you asked, “So, why did you guys invite me out today?”

Cater frowned. “Because you’re our friend of course! Why wouldn’t we invite you?”

“Well, Deuce said that this party was going to be extra special. I assumed it was because I was coming. Am I wrong?”

Trey smacked the back of Deuce’s head as Ace muttered a “nice going”.

Riddle cleared his throat. “I’ll answer that. We know that you’re far from home, yet you try to share your culture with us. We thought we should do the same. So we tried to make the best Unbirthday party we could, just for you.”

“Aww, you guys!” You gushed, eyes watering. “Thank you! Thank you so much! No one has ever done anything so nice for me before. I really, truly, sincerely appreciate all of your effort and kindness.”

Each of them blushed in varying shades of red from your gratitude. It’s safe to assume none of them will ever forget today.

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wildstar25 · 2 months

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terribly sorry to bother, but I've been loving your screenshots since I stumbled on your blog, and like 100% genuinely: how do you get them to look like that? Is it all done in game or is it some combo of mods & shaders? Cause every time I see a cool pose I'm just left wondering how you did it. Obviously I wouldn't ask you to make a massive tutorial just for me, but if there are any resources or general things you'd be willing to share, I'd be eternally grateful!

Hi there! Thank you for enjoying my gposes, and you're not a bother; my ask box is open to get asks after all haha

To answer your question: My gposes are not a product of the vanilla game alone. I'm slapping my explanations under a read more since it's a bit long:

Firstly, I am running reshade, an open source post-processing injector. It's a program that can (in the simplest terms) run various visual filters over a video game in real time. Most everyone I know made the jump from Gshade to reshade last year, so if you look up "reshade for ffxiv" you should be able to find a handful of tutorials. When it comes to finding presets, there are a lot of independent shader devs for ffxiv and generally a quick google search should bring you to a few. Most of the presets I use are outdated holdovers from the GShade days, and I don't know if they are available anymore; so unfortunately I can't recommend any directly, sorry!

In general, I lean towards shaders that enhance the overall brightness and vibrancy of the (imo muddy looking) default graphics. Arsay can quickly get over exposed by the in game 3 point lighting, so putting a shader that boosts the brightness overall really helps preventing that. I set up my lights in gpose at 2, put the character lighting to 100, pick a shader with a LUT that gives me the colours and brightness I want and thats usually enough. sometimes I'll hit the manual brightness in game and mess with that too. I often go into the preset of the shader and muck about with the Depth of field settings depending on what I want. An important note regarding the use of reshade: While reshade does not directly effect in game files or gameplay and it's technically not against TOS (as far as I have read), it is still highly encouraged that screenshots taken with shaders on do not have the ffxiv screenshot watermark visible. Reshade has it's own screenshot button that you can map to any key of your liking that will capture the game and the applied shaders without any watermarks. If you have an nvidia graphics card, I believe you should also have access to the geforce post-process correction tools, and could use that as well to enhance the game visuals. However, I am under the impression it's solely corrective settings (brightness/contrast, vibrancy, saturation, etc.) and you do not have the ability to adjust the depth of field setting, apply LUTs, mess with ambient occlusion, etc. Aka the more in depth rendering stuff that would make your graphic card fan go brrr. I've personally never tried the nvidia filter system so maybe that's incorrect information. Best to do independent research on that!

As well, on the occasion I will bring some screenshots into photoshop and do further, fine tuned, tonal corrections there. Generally this is only when I'm trying to achieve a look that I can't get in game and I try to keep it to a minimum. When I'm working on big photosets or comics, I'll end up doing more corrections just to make sure colours/tones/shading are consistent through out.

On to the second part of the question: the posing. I do all my posing with this tool. It is a tos crime, however it's client-side only and completely undetectable to other players. It gives you full access to character rigs and allows you to not only build your own poses, but export and import poses, outfits, props used by npcs or seen in cut scenes, and character data as well. Tons of people will upload pose files on the various mod archives for others to use, so even people who don't want to mess around with rigs can have fun with their characters. I personally love posing, and it's something I'm very comfortable doing since I have a background in 3D modelling and animation. I do believe in working smarter and not harder though, so what I tend to do is apply an in game animation cycle to my character in question that has a frame or key pose close enough to what I need, pause the animation, turn on posing, and start rotating bones. I never really looked up any tutorials myself tbh, I kinda just messed around with things and figured the tool out as I went along. That said, there are tutorials on youtube if you search for them. "Anamnesis ffxiv guide" or something along those lines should bring up good results.

Anam also gives you further camera control than what is available in game, allowing you to fine tune its position to the .001 degree. You can increase the FOV and zoom range past the typical amount. Bring your character and camera pretty much anywhere on the map too. And you can export your camera setting to use between gpose settings! It's a really great tool, though it has some quirks and can in specific instances crash your game (never change a character while fishing lol)

That's pretty much it! I know this wasn't really much of a guide, so sorry about that. Most of my gposes are a product of seeing a fuzzy image/concept in my head and messing around with various compositions, locations, lighting conditions, ect. until I bring that idea into clarity. It's hard to explain that process in ways beyond "fucking around and finding out (positive)" I suppose to anyone else reading this has specific references in mind, please pass them along to sailor-artemis ! I know being told "just google it lol" isn't super helpful but I really just tend to figure things out on my own ^^;

#sorry if all this is incomprehensible too #im not always the best at explaining

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comradekatara · 2 years

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re your call for questions….. (i know you’ve done a lot of “the gaang and” type asks and there’s no way i’ve seen all of them so excuse me if you’ve done this or something like it before but…) would the gaang enjoy gardening? if so, who would lean more towards flowers vs fruits & vegetables vs herbs?

ok well we literally do see suki grow beans in suki alone so i’ve gotta list her first. since her village is so near the unagi they probably wouldn’t fish, instead getting all their food from gardening and foraging. she’s been helping out in the community garden since she was little, foraging for beans and mushrooms, and maybe she also has her own little personal garden where she grows flowers and weed babeyyyyyy

iroh grows his own tea leaves in ba sing se. of course. fucking obviously

air nomads definitely garden, like they literally live in the mountains and they don’t eat meat (they do eat eggs though! fun fact), so of course they’re growing their own food. idk if aang would have his own garden though, since they would be tended to by the monks and kids who live full-time at the temples and then the nomads who come back to visit, and there aren’t enough people to tend to a garden now that... yknow. but he definitely likes helping suki and iroh and his other friends out with their gardens when he visits them. he especially loves fruit trees that flower in the spring, and spends a lot of time in the orchards on the outskirts of ba sing se whenever he’s there (especially since he hates the rest of the city). overall, gardening is very calming for him, and reminds him of his childhood.

katara comes back from a visit to kyoshi island and is like “wow i love gardens 😍✨ i wish we had a community garden 🥬🍅🥦🥔 where we grew all our vegetables 🥒🌶🌽🥕and then put them into a 🍜 big soup 🍲 🥘 and also we could have 🌹🌷🌻 flowers in our garden 🌸 ✨ just to make it pretty 😌💕” and kanna gestures to the ground, which is covered in snow literally year round, and is like “yeah? okay good luck with that.”

toph likes dirt and digging in the dirt for worms so while she has absolutely no fucking clue how to actually garden she likes showing off helping people out by earthbending divots in the soil with machine-like precision and making fancy little gates out of earth with ornate detailing all in 3 seconds flat, just because she can.

suki shows sokka her garden but almost immediately he annoys her with questions like “how can you be sure you’re giving them the exact right amount of water each day if you take into account the humidity and the type of soil— what do you mean you just wing it???? are you also telling me you don’t even move your plants under the shade when the sun is too hot or put tarp over them when it rains— no rain isnt ‘good for them’ you’ll overwater them they’ll drown!!!!! suki suki suki what do you mean you don’t keep a logbook tracking their progress??? then how do you record your data so you know what to do and what not to do next season???? no one here keeps a logbook???? how do you people even survive????????” and that’s how sokka gets banned from ever talking about or thinking about or even looking at a garden ever again for the rest of his life.

i think zuko might have fun with a little flower garden but it cannot be bigger than one square foot i mean do u remember what happened when he tried to use a hammer and nail??? i don’t trust him to do manual labor he’s a spoiled little prince he’s not built for it 😓

azula would also be shit at gardening for this same reason, but i also think it’s why she needs to. zuko did manual labor in book 2, and granted, while very bad at it, it did humble him. although I also fear she’d get extremely neurotic about it in the same way sokka would, so i think eventually whoever made her start gardening is probably just like “okay you’ve been sufficiently humbled you can stop now”

suki shows ty lee how to garden on kyoshi island but then she gets really mad bc ty lee somehow still looks hot even while she’s hunched over digging around in the dirt. suki is so pissed off abt this she has go lie down for three hours

mai hates doing manual labor, she hates tedium, and most of all, she hates getting dirt on her hands. even if u tried to make her garden to humble her, she simply wouldn’t do it. she’d just sit in the shade and make snarky remarks about how she’d rather kill herself than touch a vegetable before it’s been cooked and put on her plate. even if her only choices were gardening and starving to death, she would gladly go on a hunger strike. that is how much mai absolutely refuses to garden, even a little bit.

#hellomydanishsweetheart #asks #the gaang and #wait hang on im on mobile but im gonna add some links to prev posts #ok it was just two links #and one of them im pretty sure isnt even the best post i could find on the matter #tumblr search function just sucks #but whatever

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pennycat83 · 10 months

Text

🌃🏓Candy Psycho 🏓🌃

Candyman x Reader

(A/N: I don't plan to add many of these but I wanted to add I've tried to make the character as general as possible. But I did also want to go with a unique job 'cause I couldn't handle writing an office worker, also might add this to other websites when I finish.)

Despite having the easiest job on site, the day dragged harder than normal. "Y/N, move the signs out near the sidewalk". They followed the order half heartedly, as the scraping of metal on concrete dragged most passer-by's attention with it. They ignored the annoyed glares and continued until the entrance to the work site was completely blocked.

Leaning against what little shade the office had was welcomed, alongside a silently accepted water. Their eyes flicked to the other workers occasionally, they remembered insisting against full manual labour when they started. The concept of just setting up barricades was mocked, but they had held their ground.

Work edged on until the heat of the sun had finally started receeding. "Got s'me fliers y' need t' put out t'morrow". They nodded at this silently as they gathered their things for the day.

Why did they choose this job?

It wasn't something they had thought about too hard but given the option between random mundane temp work or this...'least I get to use the computers'.

Their mind wandered as they reached the station. They tried to put it off, but the swampy air in the corridors of this place had finally started getting to them.

They pulled their sweat drenched hair back into a pony tail as they stood by. Plugging their earphones in, it felt familiar. It hit them, they hadn't seen that freak for a while. It felt off, their appearance was so unique it was impossible to miss them.

Their eyes darted up hopefully. Nothing, no one in particular stood across from them aside from an old couple. The cold wind blowing by as the train screeched in front of them.

Given his appearance, there as a chance he had...They tensed. 'been kidnapped...?', given the Safety Leagues often macabre tactics it made sense. They tried their best not to imagine how the league could've, but there had been rumours.

Their view of the way home was slightly blurry as the gears kept grinding. Only slowing as their view blacked out thanks to a lamp post near their place. "Sh-", they hissed, shaking their head slightly, as they rummage in their pocket for the keys.

The shower was welcomed, slumped against the counter whilst the sound of the washing machine whirred with their mind. 'There's no way to be sure if he's in danger, I mean he seemed pretty competent s' the S.L sh'ld be nothing...'. They paused, 'y' see that fucking robot the Safety league dropped in that tournament?!' 'yeah, took like, 8 people to take it out!'. They shuddered at the mear gleam of that overheard rumour. Their fingers drummed against the can.

Without even a pause of hesitation, they put their half finished can back in the fridge, pulled out their bag and ripped their 'bat' out of the cluster that was her "storage closet". Yanking their hair through a brush as they put together their outfit. No goofing around. Bag, headphones, keys, 'bat', wallet. phone; go. The door of their apartment closing behind as they crept downstairs.

Figuring out where he was would be hard. Yes they had last seen them in city centre but they doubted he'd stay there for long. They mindlessly sauntered down the stairs to the station but- 'ah shit, ladder!'. They huffed and started making their way up. Sliding their card on the turnstiles and snatching the ticket as they marched forward.

Slumped against the seat, the low beats coming from their headphones drowned out their thoughts as the adverts melted into vague colours behind them, various lights flickered past. With each screeching halt they could feel their chest tighten slightly. "Next stop Central City-".

Every step after the announcement felt weird, it might've been the chest caving anxiety but they felt like a machine. Mindlessly wandering up the stairs and through different hallways until they surfaced to a cool breeze.

They scanned the alleyways next to them before beginning. Trudging down back alleys, scaling every rooftop; they only snapped out of their trance when they spotted a police drone, booking it the otherway.

"You got your ass beat by a WHAT?!", the joking quip perked their attention to a pair of players as they rested against a wall, both seeming equally banged up. "-Dude, the guy was a PSYCHO!" ,"yeah, a kid's mascot is really gonna scare me, what's he gonna do hobble me with his cane?!". They lingered slightly but let the joking quarrel continue as they proceeded forward.

'Seemed recent so...most likely here but...', this was starting to get to them. 'I mean he kicked my ass GOOD last time...probably could've beaten me too...so, why the hell am I...doing this?", the phrase slapped them back to some conscious. Why... were they doing this? he didn't seem to be in any trouble from what they had seen. Sure, Doombox was still a concern but he hadn't been SEEN by anyone, and that weirdo's fighting was competent enough to scare anyone off.

They groaned slightly and slumped into the sidewalk. "The fuck 'm I doing...?". 'Got work tomorrow, gonna hafta buy a ladder without being weird...' Their thoughts began to spiral, 'God I'm such an idiot, go out at night with a vague description, no name and expect to find some feral ye old shoppe nut...case'.

'HOLY SHI-' they bolted up, how...how could they be this dumb?!That outfit was-! They weightlessly began ascending into a mad dash down the street. Every startled passerby, activated police drone, seemed to be an easy obstacle, dipping through alleys and even memorised shortcuts to get closer to it. Almost tripping over themselves in front of the place.

'Henry's...closed' it didn't feel like a coincidence, 'so the sod's still going...'. Their sigh and smirk wavered slightly, this didn't feel right. They had met him before but he seemed different, there was this aura to him that felt goofily lighthearted. He was charming enough to keep them bantering for hours but always knew when it knock it off.

"Waiting for him too?". They tensed, cocking their head slightly, they gleamed the vibrant green shirt, their eyebrows knitted, shoving one hand in their pocket so it could reach into the bag easier, they turned around properly.

It sort of felt like deja vu, the bright green shirt, the comedically large hat that only left the gleam of their glasses visible in the casted shadows. Their hand remained, "Y' know him?", "old friend". It was all too easy of a claim but, they nodded at that. "Never saw you 'round too often...", "met him through Lethalball". That was... the tension was making this awkward. They folded their arms and rested against the wall of the building, feeling their shoulders droop slightly.

The silence lingered, thoughts altering between confirmation and naivety on his claim. On the one hand they had never heard of Lethalball when they first came here let alone see Henry play so he might've met more people than he let on; on the other...

"You see him recently?", their tone could barely manage to stay monotone, confusion and desperation slipping through. "You know that tournament?", "what from 2 months ago?". He nodded, "last I saw him".

"DAMNIT!", it echoed throughout the streets, triggering a dog nearby and causing two residents to pipe up.

"..."

"....you good?"

"Yeah, yeah no I just...think I saw him recently but he was acting...weird"

The stranger folded his arms.

"Overly powered and way too quick?"

"mhm"

He bowed his head solemnly, pulling a paddle out and twirling it slightly as he pondered. "...I don't need to tell you something's wrong but...I think it runs a bit deeper", "whatd'ya mean...". The pace picked up. "I mean when I saw him again he was in the Asylum, makes sense he's acting weird". The slight jab only made this more concerning.

"You gonna get him back to work?", this made them pause slightly. "...maybe". "Good luck, I don't think he even knows what he's doing". The spinning finally stopped with a quick flick of the wrist and a snatch before it hit the sidewalk. He slid it back into his pocket, straightening his posture slightly. "Weird question-", they paused slightly. "mm?", "do y'wanna...y'know exchange numbers...maybe?".

"In case one of us find him?", "yeah...". If he had broke out of a Safety League controlled location...- they slightly shuddered at the idea. Without missing a beat he gestured for something to write on, they rummaged in their bag and pulled out a notebook and a pencil, silently watching as he scribbled before handing it back. "Dice", "huh?". The clacking of his sandals began to fade slightly as he strolled down the street, hands in his pockets. "It's Dice", he jabbed a thumb at himself, "Y/N", they quipped back.

They watched as he wandered further away.

'Posters, ladder...find Henry...'

'Just begs the question...where the hell is he now?'

#lethal league blaze #lethal league candyman x reader #lethal league candyman

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saga-project · 3 months

Text

It had had to come to a head sometime. His bad feelings over his future self fucking up so badly, his reluctance to let Draxum see the messy sides of him, even how badly he had failed Three. Saga just hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

They’d retired to bed early, claiming to be thoroughly exhausted by the day’s events—and, well, it had been a genuinely long day, that much wasn’t a lie—but the minute they’d allowed their state of wakefulness to go from simply dozing to full REM sleep, well….

That was when the nightmares had started.

They were standing over the bloodied and broken bodies of their friends, and they could feel the empyrean singing through their veins and buzzing in their head as they brought their scythe blade down again and again and again, even as they screamed for themselves to stop, even as they tried to wrestle back control. Their system flooded with poison until their very vision seemed fogged over with that haunting shade of green, they just stood there and laughed and laughed and laughed until their throat was bloody and raw, they couldn’t stop laughing they could never stop laughing why couldn’t they stop laughing—

He woke up screaming, clawing at himself, trying to get the empyrean out get it out get it out oh god he could feel it in his system buzzing and humming and trying to sing its song and he’d never been able to fight it he wasn’t strong enough—

“Donatello? What is the matter? I heard screaming.” He spun towards the door, then, breathing heavily as Draxum’s imposing form came into view. No, no, Draxum couldn’t be here. He couldn’t hurt him he couldn’t—

“Go away. Go away please please it’s in me it’s in me I can feel it I can feel it I—“ He clawed at his arms, then, trying to manually extract it as he hunched over and dry-heaved and god god why was it so hard to fucking breathe—

“What is in you?”

“The empyrean. I can feel it I can feel it it’s in me it itches it’s like ants under my—please go away please I can’t—“

Draxum stepped closer, slowly, much to his overwhelming sense of panic. “I do not see any signs of empyrean exposure in you, child, but I acknowledge that you see them. It must be distressing, and for that, I apologize. But I have dealt with empyrean extensively, and I am certain no harm will come to me if I am near you. May I touch you?”

They wanted to say no. They wanted so badly to say no, to keep Draxum out of harm’s way, to keep that deafening song in their head from harming him too. But their traitorous head nodded anyway, breath caught in their throat and words dying on the tip of their tongue as they huddled there and shook like a leaf. Saga felt more than saw Draxum cross the room and settle onto their bed, gently pulling them into a tight embrace.

This was fine. This was fine. Draxum had dealt with empyrean before. He would know how to draw it out of them, how to safely dispose of it, how to protect himself and keep their brothers safe in turn. He would be able to deal with the effects of what was humming through their system, act as an anchor, keep them from losing themselves entirely. It was safe. It was safe.

He huddled into Draxum, shuddering as he swore that he saw green flash in the corners of his vision. “Don’t let me hurt them. Please don’t let me hurt my brothers don’t let it take them away please—“

“I will not. Nothing will harm you or your brothers. I am here with you, and we will get through this together.” He could feel Draxum’s deep breaths now, chest to chest as they were. “Try to copy my breathing, Donatello. Let the fear run its course, but do not let it consume you. Acknowledge it. Turn it into a tool to use, not something that can be used against you.”

“I don’t know how—“ He whined as green flashed in his vision again, screwing his eyes shut.

“I will show you how. Keep trying to breathe like I am, and repeat these things to yourself. It does not have to be out loud. It can be in your mind. But it has helped me in the past. Challenge. This is a challenging situation. Calm. I am staying calm. Control. I am in control of my emotions. Fear is but a temporary feeling, and it will pass, and though it seeks to tell me something I will not let it consume me.”

He breathed. Did what Draxum had asked, even as his veins seemed to buzz with energy and green continued to flash in his peripheral vision. And gradually, his breathing evened out, and he sagged into the Baron’s arms, blinking, realizing that the empyrean wasn’t real and that he had simply been in the midst of yet another nightmare that had felt all too real.

Saga wanted to pull away. He wanted to struggle out of Draxum’s arms and make some excuse and force him to leave. He wanted to shout and scream and demand an answer as to why the Baron had decided that he should want to see one of his adoptive children in quite so pathetic of a state. He wanted to argue that he could have easily sent for Maias and dealt with the challenging situation himself.

But the words didn’t come. They couldn’t. In spite of how a part of him was still very much intimidated by the Baron and his stoic demeanor, he felt safe pressed against the sheep yokai’s chest then, in a way that he’d seldom felt with anyone outside of his immediate family. It felt like the world could end, that the very fabric of time could rip apart, and Draxum would still be here to hold him close and keep him safe. It made him feel anchored in the midst of his swirling emotions.

So it was that he blinked up at Draxum and then simply buried his snout into the former warlord’s shoulder, voice muffled. “Thank you….”

“It was no trouble, Donatello. No trouble at all. Think nothing of it.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Do not apologize for feeling what you feel, unless it hurts others.”

He nodded, gently, in understanding.

“Do you wish for me to stay with you?”

….another nod. He curled up against Draxum’s chest then, out like a light in a matter of minutes.

Only this time, he slept quietly and dreamlessly.

#rottmnt rp #sep!donnie #roleplay blog #(no replies please!)#kintsugi arc

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webionaire · 6 months

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Here’s the full Eduard Imhof quotation:

Complete fidelity to natural color can not be achieved in a map. Indeed, how can it be when there is no real consistency in the natural landscape, which offers endless variations of color? For example, one could consider the colors seen while looking straight down from an aircraft flying at great altitude as the model for a naturalistic map image. But aerial photographs from great heights, even in color, are often quite misleading, the Earth’s surface relief usually appearing too flat and the vegetation mosaic either full of contrasts and everchanging complexities, or else veiled in a gray-blue haze. Colors and color elements in vertical photographs taken from high altitudes vary by a greater or lesser extent from those that we perceive as natural from day to day visual experience at ground level.

The faces of nature are extremely variable, whether viewed from an aircraft or from the ground. They change with the seasons and the time of day, with the weather, the direction of views, and with the distance from which they are observed, etc. If the completely “lifelike” map were produced it would contain a class of ephemeral—even momentary—phenomena; it would have to account for seasonal variation, the time of day and those things which are influenced by changing weather conditions. Maps of this type have been produced on occasion and include excursion maps for tourists, which seek to reproduce the impression of a winter landscape by white and blue terrain and shading tones. Such seasonal maps catch a limited period of time in their colors.

—Eduard Imhof, Cartographic Relief Presentation, 1965 (English translation 1982).

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is!

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Colour-Accurate Conversion of Camera-Digitised Film Negatives using GIMP 2.10 and RawTherapee 5.8

There are numerous software methods available to assist with conversion of camera-digitised colour negatives - commercial plug-ins for Lightroom and Photoshop such as Negative Lab Pro, Negmaster and ColorPerfect / ColorNeg, as well as integrated tools in open source raw converters and image editors like Darktable, RawTherapee and DigiKam. I'm sure there are others I've not listed or discovered yet. Then, of course, it's possible to manually invert negatives in editors such as Photoshop and GIMP, and fine-tune colours using curves, colour balance and other adjustments. There are plenty of tutorials on the web for this, employing a variety of different methods.

Of these, I've personally tried RawTherapee's "Film Negative", Darktable's "Negadoctor", and DigiKam's "Color Negative" tools. I've also used the commercial Negative Lab Pro plug-in for Lightroom. Finally, I've carried out manual conversions in GIMP.

RawTherapee, Darktable and DigiKam's negative tools can work well, but the results are inconsistent and highly dependent on the elements within the captured negative. Colours will sometimes look OK, other times not, and in many instances you need to find neutral tones within an image to help the tools adjust for white balance and colour accuracy - the problem being, such neutral tones don't occur in every photo.

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wiackcom · 9 months

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The Ford Mustang GT has been the epitome of an American performance coupe for over 5 decades. With the redesigned 2024 model arriving soon, the Mustang GT is set to get styling updates and major powertrain enhancements to make it the quickest GT ever. Read on to learn key specs and details of the 2024 Ford Mustang GT muscle car. Overview of the 2024 Ford Mustang GT As an iconic pony car, the Ford Mustang GT continues to offer an enticing mix of power, handling, and everyday livability. For 2024, Ford aims to up the ante across the board: Revised exterior styling preserves classic Mustang design Retuned 5.0L V8 engine with more horsepower Upgraded chassis and suspension systems New tech features and premium interior materials The 2024 model year updates make the Mustang GT both beauty and beast. This overview will highlight what's in store. Key Specifications and Powertrain Details The heart of the 2024 Ford Mustang GT lies under the hood: 5.0L V8 Coyote engine - Tuned to produce 486 hp and 418 lb-ft torque 6-speed manual transmission - Comes standard on the Mustang GT Optional 10-speed auto - For effortless performance shifting 0-60 mph - As quick as 3.8 seconds with the manual Top speed - Governed limit of 155 mph This high-revving V8 provides a thrilling powerband and snappy acceleration. Combined with its nimble chassis, the 2024 GT aims to be the best-handling and quickest GT to date. Fuel Economy and MPG Ratings With the revised 5.0L V8 and transmissions, Ford is targeting improved efficiency: City MPG - Expected to be 15 mpg Highway MPG - Should achieve 24 mpg highway Combined MPG - Estimated at 18 mpg combined The automatic transmission and cylinder deactivation ability help optimize gas mileage when cruising. But premium fuel is recommended to achieve the full performance potential. Exterior and Interior Dimensions The 2024 Ford Mustang GT retains the iconic two-door coupe/convertible shape: Wheelbase - 107 inches Length - 189.4 inches Width - 75.4 inches Height - 54.8 to 55 inches Passenger volume - 55 cubic feet front row, 27-30 rear row Trunk capacity - 10-13 cubic feet It provides a blend of styling, maneuverability, and practical space for everyday use. Expected Pricing and Release Timeline Ford has not confirmed full pricing yet, but expectations are: Base price around $43,000 Well-equipped GT Premium model low $50,000s Arriving at dealerships in spring 2024 The 2024 Mustang GT will go head-to-head with competition like the Chevy Camaro SS once it hits the market. FAQs What's new and different on the 2024 Mustang GT? Updated exterior styling, more power from the 5.0L V8, upgraded chassis and suspension, more premium interior. Major improvements across the board. What colors will be available? Ford hasn't confirmed colors yet. Expect existing shades like Shadow Black and Velocity Blue along with some new metallic and tri-coat options. How will the 2024 GT compare to the Shelby GT500? The supercharged Shelby GT500 will still sit atop the Mustang lineup with more than 700hp. The GT will slot in below as a more livable fast coupe. Will there be a manual transmission option? Yes, the 6-speed manual will remain standard equipment on the Mustang GT. The 10-speed automatic will be available as well. How much can I expect to pay for a new 2024 Mustang GT? Base price will start around $43,000. A loaded GT Premium model with options could sticker as high as the mid-$50,000 range. With the increased performance and equipment, the 2024 Mustang GT looks to uphold its legacy as an attainable dream car blending speed, style, and day-to-day drivability. #Wiack #Car #CarInsurance #CarRental #CarPrice #AutoLoans

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sportyconnect · 9 months

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selenafreshfriendkidoaf · 1 year

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Canon 1200d Image Quality

We tried the EOS 1200D with the EF-S 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6 IS II unit focal point, which offers a genuinely standard central reach for a pack focal point and critically incorporates picture adjustment.

Canon 1200d Image Quality

This is significant for Standard, as contenders like Sony, Olympus and Pentax all proposition picture adjustment in their DSLRs. The contrast among Standard (and Nikon) and the others is that Sony, Olympus and Pentax have decided on adjustment by means of the camera body, as opposed to the focal point, which accordingly works with their whole scope of focal points. Ordinance's framework is clearly restricted by which focal points you pick, yet it offers the slight benefit of showing the settling impact through the viewfinder. Group and Nikon likewise guarantee that a focal point based enemy of shake framework is innately better as well, yet the jury's out on that one.

The EOS 1200D's top-mounted shooting mode dial has a huge number of letters and symbols. The alleged Imaginative Zone highlights Customized Auto (P), Screen Need (television), Opening Need (Av), and Manual (M) modes. Ordinance's exceptional A-DEP (Programmed Profundity of Field) mode has unobtrusively been dropped from the EOS 1200D.

The EOS 1200D now includes the completely programmed Scene Astute Auto mode, which examinations the scene before you and naturally picking the best settings, similar as the frameworks utilized by parcel of advanced compacts. The 1200D likewise offer an Innovative Auto mode which permits you to change a couple of key settings utilizing the LCD screen through a basic slider framework for changing the opening and openness remuneration, or Foundation and Openness as the camera alludes to them. Imaginative Auto additionally incorporates Essential +. Basically a more outrageous variant of the deeply grounded Picture Styles, this offers nine choices including Standard, Distinctive, Delicate, Warm, Extraordinary, Cool, More splendid, Hazier and Monochrome, which can all be intuitively changed to suit your taste.

There's a large group of scene modes including Streak Off, Representation, Scene, Sports, Night Picture and, strangely for a tradable focal point camera, a nearby mode too. Most of these scene modes permit clients who would rather not tinker with screen speeds, f-stops, white equilibrium or ISO settings to tell the camera what sort of photograph they are going to take, which helps the EOS 1200D/Radical T5 to advance these settings for that specific subject. We battled to see the place of the nearby mode however, as the nature of one's nearby shots relies more upon the utilization of the right sorts of frill -, for example, a large scale focal point and potentially a ring streak - than any camera setting. The now settled Element Guide choice in the EOS 1200D's menu framework helpfully gives a short depiction of each setting and its impact.

Ordinance EOS 1200D Canon EOS 1200D Front Side In the Imaginative Zone, the picture taker will set a ton of shooting factors, including white equilibrium, responsiveness, AF mode, openness pay, drive mode, etc. The vast majority of these capabilities have their own devoted buttons on the rear of the camera, while others can be set on the intelligent status screen open through the Q (Fast Control) button. Models for the last option incorporate record quality settings, metering mode, streak openness pay and Auto Lighting Optimiser.

The accessible white equilibrium settings are Auto, Light, Shade, Overcast, Tungsten, Fluorescent, Glimmer and Custom; it is basically impossible to enter a Kelvin esteem physically. You can adjust any of the presets utilizing the White Equilibrium Rectification highlight. The ISO speed can be changed by squeezing the ISO button and turning the control wheel or utilizing the bolt fastens on the route cushion. You don't need to hold down the button while changing the setting. The ISO speed can be set from ISO 100 to ISO 6400 in full-stop additions, and Auto ISO is likewise accessible. The picked ISO speed is likewise shown in the viewfinder.

The EOS 1200D/Renegade T5 offers a scope of three auto center modes (A single Shot, man-made intelligence Concentration and man-made intelligence Servo) and there's a 9-point AF module with a cross-type focus point and eight line-type AF sensors. A single Shot AF is identical to AF-S, while man-made intelligence Servo is exactly the same thing as AF-C on other makers' models. Man-made intelligence Center is like what some other camera creators call AF-An in that it consequently changes from A single Shot AF to man-made intelligence Servo in the event that a still subject beginnings moving. As respects AF point choice, it tends to be done physically by raising a ruckus around town point selector button first, then, at that point, utilizing the four-way regulator to choose the AF point. The picked/dynamic AF point illuminates in red in the viewfinder. Being used, we have viewed the AF framework as lovely fast even with the pack focal point, albeit the center engine was a piece clearly for our preferences (of course, considering that the 18-55mm IS focal point doesn't have USM).

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smutty-ki113r · 3 years

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🪐Ticci Toby🪐||E.T

KinkTober Week 4. Day 16

NSFW||~ One-shot x afab gn!reader, includes—alien toby, oviposition, sex in space hehehe, minors—dni. (2.8k)

Inspired by: Katy Perry

The whole system was going haywire, a constant beep beep beep telling you there was a breach. You rushing to turn all the switches and push all the buttons, nothing working and rendering you helpless; your crew members locked in another part of the spaceship. A pair of full black eyes watching you from afar, pale green hands twitching to touch you.

To him, you were a mystery, a human with different thoughts and mannerisms. It had been the first time he did this, curious to meet another species and decipher your mind and body. To join with you, and unlock all the pulsing secrets you held. To share galactic connectedness between you, and become one.

Observing as you stressed to turn off the alarm, not counting on you going to get the emergency manual and finding him luring behind a wall. Stepping into the corredor and taking a second look at the being in front of you, blinking twice, frozen and trying to register what was happening. Realizing that the breach wasn’t just a malfunction and an alien had actually come aboard your ship. Fear prickling at your skin at the situation, not knowing if he wanted to eat you alive or abduct you.

Taking him in with a sharp inhale, hovering your gaze over his emerald skin and little antenas, twitching them in nervousness. He wore a purple long sleeved v neck and black pants. Your intense stare so heavy that his cheeks turned a deeper shade of green. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he was flustered.

In a moment of personal interest you lowered your guard, approaching him with caution. Your curiosity getting the best of you by far, the once in a lifetime opportunity to make contact with an extraterrestrial too valuable to pass up. Reason screaming at you to run and get away, but your body not responding, something about him hypnotizing you.

Ignoring the possible danger to make an effort at communication, to reveal what he could want with a human. His big dark eyes void of any light, his brow knitting, tensing at your receptiveness. Hearing stories about humans who only wanted to do experiments on his kind making him question if this had been a good idea.

To him you were alien too, his eyes wide and mirroring yours as you got closer to each other. Soft foreign words falling from his mouth as he tried to speak, diction fading into a roughly dictated version of your native language. “H-hey” he tried, hoping his mouth was forming the right shape.

“Hello” you said in an exhale, unsure what to say. Mind going hundreds of miles per hour, paralyzed, wondering if you should ask who he was, or what he was; where he came from or how old he was, maybe he had a name.

The creature’s brow knitting as he took in the greeting, smiling with pearly white jagged teeth; but he wasn’t scary, in fact it kind of turned you on. “I’m t-Toby” he introduced, his speech impaired by a vocal tic, perhaps it was normal in his world.

Responding with your name accordingly and letting him muse over the sound of it rolling off your tongue. “H-how interesting, on m-my planet we d-don’t have that n-name.” He struggled to talk fluently, the vowels foreign to carry out. Toby getting irritated that he was pronouncing wrong, he could tell from the face of confusion you were making. “I apologize f-for my accent”, Pissed because he had so much to tell you and share.

“It’s ok”, you told him in a soft voice, “you’re doing just fine”. Your caring tone making him throb in his pants, how could you be so kind? Especially to someone of his species. His hands twitching in his hold, eyes looking away in embarrassment from your empathy. You watching his every move, an iridescent shimmer of his skin showing when the light hit him at a certain angle, his composure showing that he was kind of shy. You were just so moved by the fact that he could feel emotions like you, that he tried so hard to speak to you.

But he wouldn’t let it sit at that, he wanted to display how he felt, to give you the fragment of transdementional knowledge he could held. To complement you and show you just how greatly you affected him, with your cheeks flushed and your curves hugged perfectly in that space suit.

“I communicate better a d-different way” he told you, spiking your interest. “I could show you, if you let m-me”

Doubt fading by the second as he lidded his gaze and took a step towards you. Your eyes wandering to the textured surface of his face. At the almost glowing aura he radiated, admiring how beautifully his freckles sprinkled across his blushing green cheeks.

“Yes” you answered, almost breathlessly. Slick trickling in between your legs and catching in your panties, heated all over as he pressed his chest to yours. A magnetic force pulling you together, making him so hard to resist.

Bringing up your hand in a parallel to his, finally sharing physical touch with the extraterrestrial. Shivering at the spark emanating from his palm to yours, your other hand moving to rest on his face. Entranced by his strange beauty and the way he looked at you, begging lightly “Kiss me”

Embracing you with a press of his lips, stunning you with the delight of his affection. A magnificent reverb of time and space shooting through your body as you understood what he had been struggling to say. Manifesting in a root of lust and passion in your core as his kisses graced you back, forth, and in directions you never knew existed.

Comprehending that love was the language that transcended dimensions, the one that both of you could understand. Locking lips with a creature not of your world, cosmic magic transfusing through your blood as it pumped faster, begging you to let him stretch you and let you be his victim, pulsing to feel the universal sensation of his sex. His tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every cavity of your human body.

Greedy hands traveling to your chest and your sides, shockwaves rippling from every place he touched. Impatient and needy to strip your clothes off, sharing breath and not wanting to break when he took his clothes off too. Whining as he laid both of you on the floor. The corredor a sickly pale white with a shiny metal surface, windows that gave view to the entire galaxy surrounding you.

He wasn’t hasty to fuck you, first he wanted to taste you. Toby on his back, making you sit on his face and lean forward to taste his cock. He wasn’t like a human, he was longer and had defined ridges that made your mouth water, hard and pulsing as you grabbed onto his girth.

Hanging your head forward when you felt his long hot tongue take an experimental lick up your slit. Purring as he savored the taste on his buds, spreading your entrance with his hands and watching you clench around nothing. Seeing you convulse like that, begging for him, drove him mad.

Lapping and sucking at your juices, savoring in the taste of a human. To him you were so delectable, “this is the best t-thing i’ve ever tasted” he told you, “I didn’t know humans were this delicious”. Sliding his thick tongue in your hole and fucking you with it, purring as he said “maybe it’s just you”. Going in and out to feel how deep you went, to test how far he would be able to go with his dick.

His dick, which you could feel throb in your hand as you held him. He was so heavy, so easily stimulated that his tip beaded with droplets of white liquid. You had to taste it, bringing your mouth down and wrapping your lips around his tip. Sucking just the tip that had a delicious rough texture.

Stroking up and down his shaft as you gave him head, groaning around him as his tongue breached your walls and stretched you. Coating your pussy in saliva that burned and throbbed in your heat.

Your hand tracing the beautiful lines along his length as you fit him in your mouth and edged him to the back of your throat. Feeling all the layers of his cock pulse and shift as he got harder, unsheathing more and pressing to the back of your throat.

Making you gag and groan as he thrusted his muscle back into your hole, sticky wet sounds meshing with the clack clack sounds of his tongue hitting his palette. Eager to take in more of you at once.

Unsure of how your anatomy worked and taking a test run on your body. Licking up and down your folds and pressing the flat of his tongue to your clit to see how you would react. Pleased at the jerk of your hips you gave involuntarily and focusing solely on that area. Grinding his teeth lightly on the area so you could feel the chill of delight.

Both of you enveloped in the sixty nine, chests pressed together with skin against skin. Sweaty and beaded as you shared an intimate moment with the alien.

Popping his cock out of your mouth to lick it from the bottom, sucking on his balls and hearing him give the most existencial “Aghh” you had ever heard. Your cunt throbbing at the nearing of your orgasm, his finger pumping in and out of you as he barely held on, letting out a strained “Nghh” as you praised him.

Toby was feral, so overcome with these bodily sensations he had no control over, each wave racking his lungs in a carnal need to connect with you. His grip on your torso tightening as he dug his fingers into you, ignoring the prominent need to release just to hold on long enough to fuck you.

Him giving a foreign kind of growl as he slapped his hands on your ass, pushing you forward and getting up. Taking you by the hands to bring you up as well, meeting in another kiss and letting you taste each other.  

His arm wrapping around your chest and pressing his cock to your ass, forcing you against the window as he trailed kisses down the side of your neck. Your hands leaving thermal fingerprints on the glass as you struggled to hold, sopping and slicked up, ready for him to enter. Squirming as you heaved, him grinding up to your slit and teasing you. “Take me” you pleaded in a heavy breath, waiting for him to line himself up and spread you apart, “please”

With a shaky breath and a press he finally inserted his flushing tip into you. Holding your folds apart with his fingers to push into your hole, your breath catching and sighing as he brushed all the right areas. It wasn’t normal, probably downright wrong, letting yourself succumb to the desires of a creature from another dimension.

Your hole taking every inch of his cock, swallowing him and begging for him to spill inside of you. Looking back at his lips that lie open and wet. Yours swollen from how hard he had kissed you. Mixing breath as he rutted into you, molding your walls with every curve and design on his monster cock.

“You feel amazing” he told you, breaking the kiss and melting into a haze of intergalactic lovemaking. “So tight and warm around me”, with little ruts of warmth enveloping you, his arms firmly securing your figure against the window surface.

His words going straight to your core, pulsing as you too approached orgasm. Your breath fogging up the glass in intervals at a time, with each slow delicious roll of his hips that he granted. The outside oxygen-less environment freezing and making for your combined warmth to mark the transparent surface with sweat.

It felt like a sin, to watch such an ethereal sight of the cosmos outside while you let him use you so obediently. Yet, it was the most miraculous thing you had ever experienced. Lacing a raw connection between species, rutting into your hole and filling every void of emotion with the sensation of chromatic color and flashes of light.

Tears of happiness slipping blissfully out of your eyes, the marks of his act bruising on your neck as he sucked it, hickeys as gorgeous reminders of your passion. Lewd, meaty, claps from where he stood, taking you from behind and feeling your ass vibrate with every thrust.

It felt as if everyone on earth was watching, as if everyone in the entire universe had their eyes on you. Observing you unraveling into each other. Lost in the vulnerability held in the tender flesh of your bodies.

Completely swept away by how perfectly he fit in you even though he wasn’t human. Like the element you had been missing all your life, galaxies away clenching and waiting for you to appear.

Pounding into you with such caress and rhythm it made you throw your head back, your legs struggling to stand still as he opened you up and thudded against your womb.

“Holy shit this feels g-good” he groaned, his brow weaving at the sensation of his foreboding high.

“Is this your first time with a human?” You asked, not helping but being curious.

“Yes, f-fuck just you” he breathed, “i n-need you”. Absolutely carried away by your body and your emotion. Stretching you out, his size otherworldly big and opening you to extents you didnt know were possible.

“need you to have my kids” he rasped, uncaring of the consequence and only focusing on leaving you with child, with his children. Wanting to see them grow inside you, taking root in your stomach and ready to hatch. The worst part was, you couldn’t bring yourself to disagree, wanting so badly to feel him breed you as he flicked your clit to the edge.

Slamming into you relentlessly with his scratchy tip kissing your cervix, twitching and ready to lay inside you. “Gonna give you my eggs”, it awoke something in you, his fragility and his careful tone, somehow still managing to dominate you with his vibrating touch. Keeping you bouncing for dear life in the commitment of bearing his spawn.

His hand crawling to the front of your body to play with your clit, his hips giving concentrated thrusts into the glass. With thud thud noises that rung in your ears, your eyesight focusing on the marvelous view of the universe, constantly fogging it up with your breath.

You crying out his name as he built you to the edge, “fuck Toby I’m gonna cum”. Rasping out a whine of “can you feel me?”, as you clenched around him. He gave a strained nod and breathy sigh that made you shiver.

Him mirroring your movements in a lustful mimic, bringing his free hand to your stomach and pressing against the belly bulge you had just noticed. “Can you feel me?”. Sobbing as he sped up at an inhuman pace and twitched, tensing and pulsing your muscles as you felt his cock waver and get ready to release something, something more lewd than just his juices.

Finally stilling and letting you cum, your skin breaking, rippling release from your body at the extraordinary sensation you were feeling. Making you light headed, spectacular in a way that you felt like you were floating. Salty tears staining the glass view of the stars and planets as you opened the doors of your mind and were enlightened with the secrets of the universe.

“Fuck gonna give you my eggs”, and you wanted him to mix like this with you, combine dna and create a sinful mess resulting of your cosmic fervor. So lidded in hazy desire that you couldn’t stop milking him, “Take em’ take em’”

Trembling as you felt a warm liquid seep into your hole, eyes rolling back at the feel of his cock fluttering and releasing oval-like things objects of you, extenuating your orgasm. Giving light thrusts with each small egg he dumped inside of you, and you could feel them settling inside your womb. Laying on top of eachother as you saw their outlines from the front.

His balls unloading all the children that would stay and feed from you for months, easing the transference with the hot goopy liquid that encased them. Your tummy bloating from the interaction, filling you with all his poison and intoxicating you with adoration.

Rough groans falling from his lips as you shifted between an extreme cold and hot, passing eras of time and overwhelming you with simmering droplets of love. Wavering through your skin and blood that held as he finished tending to his needs and sharing them with you.

He nuzzled and have a pretty sigh into your hair, “so now you k-know”. His antennas twitching as he turned you around and met your lips again, his pelvis keeping your legs closed so no eggs would fall out. “That I love you on another level”.

Giving what appeared to be a chuckle as he gave you a peck on the cheek, narrowing his gaze in a sort of protectiveness as he spoke seriously. “Hope you’re r-ready for abduction”

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rebelwrites · 3 years

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Into The Flames

Dominic Toretto x Reader

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Dominic Toretto Masterlist

This Months Writing

I have no idea where this came from, the words @withmyteeth sent for the 100 Drabble just made the words flow.

You watched as the blast took full effect, flames engulfing the car. If it wasn’t for Dom holding you back, you would have ran straight into the fire, trying to salvage whatever you could of your grandpa’s car.

It was too late, the last thing you had of his was now gone. Burnt to a crisp, whilst your ex stood near the blaze, a smirk on his face, your ex-best friend by his side.

“You fucking rat!” You screamed as hot tears ran down your face. “You said you wouldn’t tell him where I moved. I will fucking kill you.”

“Darling, you need to calm down,” Dom whispered, with his cheek pressed against your head.

“How the fuck can I,” You sobbed struggling to get your words out, “How can I calm down, that was the only thing I had left of him,” You screamed, your chest rising violently as your lungs burnt, screaming for air, “It’s fucking gone.”

“I know sweetheart, I know.” Dom sighed, trying not to let the tears burning his eyes fall, “But you know if I let you go, you will end up beating the shit out of them.”

“Damn right I will,” You cried.

“I can’t let that happen,” He whispered, “You are on your last chance with the local PD and plus you are on probation.”

“I can’t let them get away with it,” You screamed, pounding your fists against Dom’s chest. “I just can’t.”

“And I won’t let them get away with it,” Dom whispered, kissing your forehead, before he nodded at Roman, who quickly stepped in, pulling you from Dom’s arms and into his.

You tried to put up a fight, but he was stronger than you, so you quickly gave up, especially when you saw Dom and Letty storming over to the people you once held close to your heart. As much as it pained you to see the flickers of the flames you couldn’t take your eyes off your boyfriend and someone you saw as your sister.

Three punches, that's all it took for your ex to be floored, allowing Dom to climb on top of him, keeping the punches colliding with his face. You watched the shade of crimson coat his face along with Dom’s knuckles. Glazing over to Letty as was in the same position as Dom, your so called best friend screaming for her to stop.

It wasn’t until the sirens were heard in the distance that either of them stopped. You couldn’t hear what Dom said to your ex but you knew it wasn’t going to be pretty, and more than likely threatened to kill him.

Somehow you found the strength to escape Roman’s grip, running straight into the flames you didn’t care anymore. The one thing that meant the world to you was gone, there was no saving the car, every panel of the car was scorched, the interior had completely disintegrated, the photo you kept on the dashboard had burnt to a crisp.

Talking a few more steps closer, you were ready to climb into the car and let the flames take you as well, you had fully given up. If it wasn’t for Dom wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you back from the blaze you would have gone with the car.

“Don’t be stupid,” Dom shouted, panic laced in his voice.

“I have nothing,” You wailed, “I have noone, I am nothing.”

“Is that what you really think?” Dom screamed, he knew raising his voice wasn’t the way around this but you needed the tough love right now. “Do you think that no one would care if you went with the car? Because let me tell you this, we fucking would,” He yelled but lowering his voice “I would.”

“So don’t even think about calling this the end,” He said, holding you as tight as he physically could, “I can’t survive without my girl, I lost you for three years and that was too long in my books, so I am not losing you forever.”

The two of you stood a few feet away from the flames, watching as the fire department put the flames out, neither of you moving as you watched the flames die down letting you see the full extent of the damage.

“We can fix it babygirl,” Dom whispered, kissing the top of your head, “The damage isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“It won’t be the same,” You sighed, your eyes stung from crying, your voice horse from the screaming, “I will never be the same.”

@chibsytelford @phoenixhalliwell @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @withmyteeth @jessprins13 @rightwhereiwantyou @jasonbabymama @pumpkin-spice-hate @garbinge @zozebo @pancakeisreading @phoenixhalliwell @band--psycho

#Dominic Toretto #Dominic Toretto x reader #dominic toretto imagine #Dominic Toretto oneshot #fast and furious #fast and furious x reader #fast and furious imagine

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sio-writes · 2 years

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A Botanist’s Guide - Chapter 2

(Chapter 1 can be found here)

Cassie

With herculean effort I fully open the blinds and grab the watering can from the windowsill, marching it over to the sink and turning on the tap. NASA has these nifty auto-watering pots for those of us too lazy to water manually, but there’s something about the act of pouring water over a small bit of life that brings me joy. I’m still half-asleep and my head is starting to pound again, but I’m happy to see my plants.

Ned, my diffenbachia maculate that followed me here from Earth, needs to be moved to a bigger pot, but is otherwise doing well. I nudge Carol, a cutlass aglaonema, with my foot over to her secondary spot in the partial shade before dowsing her with water. She’s starting to lose a few leaves, so I’ll need to keep an eye on her. And Nancy, my Red Anthurium, drinks up the water like she's dehydrated, even though I watered her the exact same time yesterday.

The fundamental requirement laid out by NASA mandates at least three large plants per apartment to raise the oxygen levels to a comfortable state. But they had never mentioned a cap so I, both botanist and full-time hot mess, have ten total in my tiny studio apartment, not counting the line of tiny succulents and cacti along my windowsill. I’d love to add some natural flora from Summanus, but another NASA mandate labeled the harvesting and selling of Summanian life an affront to science. It stops any big corporations coming up and mining the shit out of the planet, but I wish I could snag a small plant for myself.

After the watering is done, I set the can back on the windowsill and grab some breakfast. Eating here is a struggle, but I’m not picky. Eggs and milk are far too expensive to import, and any meat is usually flash frozen and tastes pretty bad by the time it reaches us. I'm left with yogurt, frozen bread products, or fruit. I haven’t tried much Summanian food, although I’ve heard from Jillie that their version of blueberry pancakes are just to die for.

I finish breakfast, brush my teeth, and grab a change of clothes before I head to the gym. Today is a mandated Workout Day, designed to keep our oxygen levels from dipping too low in the low-oxygen environment of Summanus. Usually I'd work out on the weekends just to get it out of the way, but I needed the full two days to relax. Binging Within the Hour while sitting on my couch eating potato chips had been the best medicine for my weary soul.

I walk out of the complex and spot Jillie across the street. She greets me with a perky smile and a wave and we head towards the gym. Our outfits almost match -- simple leggings and athletic shirts-- except she looks much better in hers than I do.

She gives me a dazzling smile. “Mornin' twinsie!”

I grunt my response and offer a half-hearted grimace that makes her laugh.

“Sleep well?”

I run a hand over my face. “Jillie, it’s too early for conversation.”

She pouts, her cheeks puffed out. “Don’t be a cranky Cassie, it’s exercise day!”

We try to exercise together at least twice a week. It keeps us from getting lazy.

The gym is technically two buildings in one. An "outdoor" area made of a large glass dome simulating Earth's atmosphere, and a standard two-story concrete building for all indoor activities. It used to be sponsored by Gold's Gym, but Planet Fitness and Shalia's Exercise eeked their way in after throwing some money at the project. It makes for a very confusing set up of Olympic-grade equipment and state of the art training facilities mixed with torn up floor mats and showers that are only hot half the time.

“You hate exercise day,” I say, staring longingly at the coffee bar as we walk inside. Soon my love, soon.

“Duh, so I’m gonna kick it’s ass!” Jillie holds up her arms and puffs out her chest. Her enthusiasm is infectious, I feel the hint of a smile pulling at my lips.

“Yeah,” I concede. “Let’s crush it.” I hold out my hand for a fist-bump, which she happily pounds.

NASA mandates a total of five hours a week of aerobic exercise, but leaves the specific choice up to us. There’s tons of equipment for strength training, but Summanus has a higher gravity constant than Earth, so I don’t see the point. We pick a spot in the building close to the back and set down our things.

"Stretch time," Jillie says as she sets her bag down. Jillie and I always come into the gym as early as possible, it keeps the chances of running into creeps at a minimum.

She spreads her feet and pikes forward, wrapping her arms around her knees while I stand there and wonder how she's still single. Jillie is gorgeous, smart, flexible; anyone at the compound would be lucky to have her. She has gorgeous blond hair that I've always envied, and a small lithe body that reminds me of a dancer. I used to have a crush on her when we first met, and I can still see why I felt that way. But any romantic feelings I had were gradually replaced by the slow burn of an amazing friendship. She held me as I cried over breakups, and she took me to my first drag show. I've only known her a handful of years now, but I don't know what I'd do without her.

I try to mimic her pose, and nearly fall over from my efforts. I'm not completely hopeless though, and manage to get my hands on the floor.

"And up," she says, and the blood rushes from my face as I straighten.

We spend the next ten minutes working through basic stretches and then trot a lap around the gym. Jillie would make a good fitness instructor if she wanted to. She holds her pace well, and always has a smile. Normally I'd find it annoying, but knowing that Jillie hates working out as much as I do softens the sharp edges that would poke in my side.

Jillie turns to me after our lap and says, "It's your pick today."

I guzzle my water as I walk over to the class board. There's a lineup of virtual fitness classes available year round that Jillie and I like to pick from. It keeps us out of a crowded group session and lets us chat as we go. I scroll through the list, looking for something high intensity that'll make me sweat, because I need to let off some steam.

This past week was hell. It took me running into Kri about eight hundred times for him to get the message to stand back, and from his vantage point in the corner of the room he could apparently still see well enough to criticize my every move. A constant barrage of “This does not follow protocol,” or “Are you certain of this action” so incessant and condescending I started hearing it in my sleep.

By the time Friday rolled around, the headache I’d been nursing turned into a migraine so severe I could barely type my report. A report that couldn't have been worse, according to Kri. I can still hear his voice over my shoulder, "Is that the most scientifically accurate you can be?"

My jaw still hurts from how often I'd been grinding my teeth together. Kerry, the Outpost dentist, will be absolutely furious with me when he sees all my molars ground down into nubs. Look at these teeth, he’d say, poking around my mouth. They’ve been eradicated by stress!

Bless Jillie for trying to keep the peace, or at least a version of it where Kri and I weren't reaching for each other's throats. Jillie would have to literally step in the middle of our arguments like Chris Pratt in Jurassic World to calm us down. Usually it worked, but it mostly left me feeling gross for falling into another argument when I should be working.

At this point, I'm not even upset about the audit anymore. Had I been assigned someone else, a quiet observer or something, that would've been fine. I would've gotten over it and maybe even worked with a bit more hustle. Anything would've been better than a helicopter parent judging my every move. I can't catch a break, nothing I do is right, and I'm constantly on edge.

So I have a lot of extra energy from the past week, it fizzles through my nerves like electricity, making me jumpy and irritable and the binge of trash tv with potato chips only helped so much.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and turn to Jillie. "I wanna box."

***

The virtual exercise rooms are lined up like offices along a far wall of the gym. At twenty feet long and fifteen wide, they can accommodate a five-person dance class with no issue. They’re lined with soft mat gym floors and the far wall is lined with mirrors. There's somewhere between fifteen to twenty of them, and during the day they're always occupied. Most people have the same idea we do--a personal class is preferable to a packed room. But because we got there early, Jillie and I found a room relatively quickly. The only downside to the rooms is that the air circulation sucks.

And I definitely picked a routine that made me sweat.

Ten minutes in and I'm already brushing sweat out of my eyes. The virtual instructor is more hyped up than Jillie, and it just keeps moving around. Our instructor is an AI, a tall woman with paper-white skin, no distinguishing facial features, and a generic brown ponytail. The program gives her a high pitched voice so she can yell out encouragements or instructions. It's an intelligent program, all things considered. It reacts to your movements, corrects you on form, and if you program it to, it even knows your name.

"Jillian, great form!" it shouts as we throw another punch. "Player 2, don't forget to rotate your hips!" I don't like the computer knowing my name, I feel like the gym collects our data at the end and runs it through algorithms for ads. But even with a featureless face, Jillie and I have picked the same AI for every class we've done together. We decided to name her Tami.

For boxing, Tami has on joggers and a sports bra, and has fingerless gloves on. She's set us up with some virtual fighting partners--more faceless AI's-and picked an upbeat song to punch along to.

Halfway through a round of jabs and dodges, Jillie turns to me over her shoulder. "Ready to see tall, dark, and grouchy today?"

I answer automatically, "Ready to punch him in the face."

I've been imagining Kri's stupid gray face on my virtual partner for the past ten minutes. I've been punching harder than usual, but I didn't think I was being so obvious.

Jillie snickers. “He’s gonna be waiting for us like: You are late, ten points off.” Jillie tries to scowl but the exertion from moving makes the expression look funny.

"He argues with me on everything," I say as we switch to kicks. "He second guessed me on how much to water the corn. The corn! He made me measure it out three times! Does he want to run the experiment?" I punctuate my sentence with another hard kick, which disintegrates the virtual man into dust. He pops back up again.

"I dunno. It might just be the way he works," Jillie offers. "We are the aliens here, and technically the less advanced ones."

I pause, and turn the thought over in my head. She's not wrong. The Summanians have been incredibly accommodating since first contact five years ago. They shared their technology, they invited us to set up shop all over the planet, hell they even adapted one of their pidgin languages to speak around us so we could hear it. They treat us like guests of honor, even when we have relatively little to offer in return.

"He's still a jerk," I huff. I know I'm being immature, but I can't help it. I don't like the guy, I don't want to work with him. "Just because we grew up on different planets doesn't mean he gets to treat me like I don't know anything."

"Have you talked to him about it?" Jillie throws me a sympathetic look, and I punch the air a little harder.

I open my mouth to reply that yes, actually, I've told him to back off multiple times, but she cuts me off.

"Talk, not yell. As my therapist would say, you need to use your 'I Feel' statements." Jillie raises her eyebrows knowingly at me. Being a mediator all week, she's seen every argument. "Not to be condescending or anything," she says. "But you're pretty shit at communicating effectively. You gotta go in with something like 'I feel like shit when you correct me because if feels like you think I'm stupid,' or something."

I clench my jaw and turn my head to throw another punch at the Kri stand-in." He's just going to deny it."

"Then what do you have to lose?"

My pride, for one. My ego. My lab.

I don't want to second guess my friend. But talking about it won't make things go away--action will. I need to fight, to stand my ground against Kri and his stupid little papers that only write down what I do wrong. I need to make him understand that I'm an accomplished scientist too, damn it. I've been doing things without his help my whole life, and I will do just fine after he goes.

So I don't respond, and keep punching to the beat of the song.

Despite my disdain for all things exercise, I get lost in the rhythm. Sweat is dripping into my eyes, but the endorphins make me want to do this all the time. My muscles are burning, my heart is pounding, I feel great. I can totally exercise consistently, nearly three decades of doing the exact opposite be damned.

The class ends with cool down stretches, and I'm definitely more limber than earlier. I can just barely get my arms around my knees this time.

When we walk out, there's already a line forming for the virtual rooms, and I'm glad we arrived early. Outside, the air feels ten degrees cooler, and I inhale deeply through my nose. That session did help me after all. I feel calmer, less tense. I could even do yoga. Hot yoga.

Jillie sidles up next to me with her bag thrown over one arm. She bats her long eyelashes at me. “Coffee?"

I give her a single nod. “Definitely.” I'll need the caffeine to get through the day.

We head over to the long line forming at the counter. "Cheer up Cas, at least you'll be out of the lab today."

I respond noncommittally, a low hum in my throat and roll of my eyes. But I'm tamping down a smile. I’m excited. The greenhouses are all communal, and I don't mind because it means I get to be nosy and see how everyone else's projects are going. Dr. Markesh has a whole line of hybrid flowers about to bloom, Dr. Blaine is working hard on their Summanian veggies, and I know. Dr. Natsuki is getting ready to start her observation on imported non-edibles. It's all just so exciting, and I want to be there to see it.

Daily watering is one thing, but today is about documenting progress. Mostly it consists of measuring a plant's growth, soil levels, and planting new seeds. I could just have Jillie do it all and stay in my lab, but I love this side of the experiment, getting my hands dirty in the mud.

But today's greenhouse day will have an extra body in it. At the realization my small smile turns sour.

The baristas are quick. It's only a few minutes till we reach the counter. "One large iced mocha for Cassie, and whatever the lady wants," I gesture to Jillie with my head, another part of the exercise ritual. Whoever picks the workout pays for coffee.

Jillie orders something ridiculously sweet and I scan my smart watch to pay.

***

The sun is high in the sky when we walk out of the gym, and I feel refreshed and ready to take on the world. The ground is lush with grass and small flowers, even several trees wind their way up to the sky. In fact, most of the plant life on Summanus twists up to the sky. Everything spirals on the Fibonacci sequence like on Earth, but taken to the extreme. There's herbs that grow like someone stuck a pinecone in the dirt, fruit that spirals up the trunks of trees, and fungi that swirl like a snail shell. The Outpost has a handful of fruit trees growing at the entrance of the greenhouse sector, and it wasn't a half hour walk either way, I'd take my lunch there everyday.

"Oh it feels so good to be outside!" Jillie stretches her arms to the air as we head uphill.

And because I'm in a good mood, it only makes sense that the universe sees fit to ruin it.

"Hey ladies!" Stephen Byrne waves us down and I groan under my breath.

"Oh lord," Jillie responds just as quietly.

We turn down the path and hurry our steps, but Stephen jogs to catch up.

"You girls just getting out of the gym?" He has on joggers and a light sweatshirt, and his dirty blonde hair is plastered to his head. He's smiling at us with straight, whitened teeth. He looks like a grade-A jackass.

Stephen and I dated for close to four years back in training. For so long, I thought he was The One, until he screwed me over to get a promotion. It set my launch date to Summanus back a whole year, and kept me out of a lab for an extra six Summanian months. He dumped me like I was nothing, but for some reason Stephen insists that we're still friends. I want to push his head into the garbage compactor.

"Yep, and now we're off to work" Jillie says dismissively, picking up her pace.

"Cass I heard you got an audit," Stephen says, keeping pace with us. "That's really bad for your record."

"Uh-huh," I say, keeping my gaze on the ground and hugging my arms around my middle. Even responding to him has my stomach in knots. I hate when he calls me Cass. He used to say it so lovingly, but now it sounds like a hissing snake.

"Your auditor is an ento, right? Those bugs are tough. My buddy Bill got a review from one of them and cost him the lab. I told him, 'Bill you need to be on your best behavior or else,' so, ya know, I'd do that."

I sigh through my nose. His voice grates on my nerves worse than Kri. But what if he's right? Diana told me that if this doesn't go well it's going to cost me my lab. I grip my bag a little tighter. My anxiety from earlier is coming back. It always does when Stephen is around, but his talking isn't helping. Someone else lost their lab too? How many audits do they even do in a year? I knew I wasn't the only underperforming scientist, but surely it can't be that big of a problem?

"If you ladies aren't busy after work, the guys and I are--"

"No," Jillie interrupts, and I'm grateful she's blunt. She may hate Stephen more than I do.

"You know, it's good to get out once in a while, instead of staying inside all day," Stephen is now jogging ahead of us, going backwards. I hope he trips. "Being cooped up inside all day can't be good for your mental health."

My blood runs cold and I stop dead. I know that's targeted at me, and I want to fight back, I should fight back, but all the fight has been sapped out of me. Somehow he found out about my episode, and hasn't let go of it since. It's like a badge of honor. Hey, I made this girl break down in front of all her academic peers, isn't she stupid and fragile?

I need to respond, some witty retort, but all I can do is stare at the ground and hug myself.

I feel Jillie's arms go around my shoulders and she pulls me to her side protectively. "Back off Byrne."

I see Stephen's hands go up defensively. "I'm just tryin' to help."

Jillie starts to walk me up the hill again. We're almost there. If we can get to the greenhouse he'll go away. Probably.

"Well go help someone else, we have work to do," Jillie says pushing us past him. My anxiety is so bad my teeth are chattering. I pray to whatever god is listening that he can't hear it.

His fading voice calls after us, "I'm sure it's very important." Dick. "The invitation is open, ladies."

Jillie mumbles under her breath, "Not in a million years."

***

We stop in front of the greenhouse, Jillie's arms still around my shoulders.

"Hun, look at me," she says firmly, and I wrench my gaze from the ground to her blue eyes. "Are you okay?"

The truth is, I want to cry. I can feel tears prickling just behind my eyes, and my breathing is shallow. I hate this, I hate feeling like this. One stupid conversation was all it took for Stephen to tie me up in knots, and get me crying all over again.

I sniff, and it's gross. "I'll be okay," I mumble.

Jillie gives me a disbelieving look. "You sure?"

I flex my fingers anxiously, and I can't meet her gaze anymore. I fix my eyes on a freckle on her cheek, dark against all that pale skin, and nod.

It's no use to dwell like this. Crying solves nothing, and I hate the clean up, the puffy eyes, the snotty nose. The looks of pity.

On a deep inhale, I draw my shoulders back, willing the tears back into my body where they need to stay, and nod again. "I'm good. Let's kick some ass."

Another look of disbelief crosses Jillie's face, and I'm silently begging her not to push it. I can't handle any emotions right now. Please, please let it go.

Thankfully, Jillie sighs and pats my shoulders. "Okay."

I give her a small smile. "I'm fine, really."

"Mhm," she hums, lips pursed.

She opens the door and my mood drops even further. Kri is already here.

Except he's not frowning at us; he's not even looking at us. He's crouched low to the ground, examining one of Dr. Markesh's plants. One hand is out, gently holding a leaf between his fingers. He's making chirping noises, which I recognize as his native tongue but I don't understand. It flits in and out of my hearing range like a wave, melodic and steady. His head is tilted like he's listening to it talk--can ento do that?-- and his gaze is half-lidded. He's looking at the plant the same way I do, with reverence and affection.

He didn't acknowledge us at all, so he must not have heard us walk in. After a moment, I clear my throat, and Kri startles.

It's awkward, looking down at Kri. At a little over seven feet he towers over me while standing, but now his head barely reaches my chest. I can see where his plating connects at the back, forming ridges that protect his spine. The iridescent flecks in his exoskeleton catch the morning light and reflect back to me in gorgeous purple shimmers, and the plates over his arms and chest look like thick muscle. The plates over his face look like they're glowing blue.

There are some people who are, well, let's say attracted to ento. And if we’re being honest, I see the appeal. They're like nothing I've ever seen before. Ento are gorgeous, in an (excuse the pun) otherworldly way.

Not that I’m attracted to Kri. Not at all.

Over the past week, when Kri wasn't running his mouth or hovering over my shoulder, he was poised somewhere off to the side. I noticed he holds himself with pride. I can see it in his posture, in the graceful way he walks, how he takes off to fly. It's all done with careful measures of control to be as smooth as possible. And I will admit, despite his propensity to piss me off, he's actually quite pleasant to look at.

Kri stands up and brushes off his knees. "You're late."

Aaand any good notion I had towards him is now gone.

"We were at the gym," I hiss, setting down my bag on the table that runs down the middle of the greenhouse.

"I can see that," he says, voice tense. Is he really that mad we were late? I roll my eyes and he folds his arms.

"Sor-ry," I say, opening my bag to get my laptop out.

"Your tone suggests sarcasm," he says, leaning backwards against the bench.

"No," I respond, sarcastically. The back and forth almost feels like a game now, seeing how much irony I can inject into my voice to set him off. It's one of the only things that's kept me sane the past week.

Kri sighs heavily through his flat nose, and starts jotting something down. It's gonna be a long day.

***

"That's the improper measurement for--"

"Yeah, I got it."

"You do not. Your hand position is--"

"I said I got it!"

***

"I believe your ratio is off."

"I'm not measuring it again."

"Are you certain?"

"If you write down that I didn't measure the soil to fertilizer ratio in your stupid fucking report I'm gonna--"

"Cass! Come help me with the seedlings!"

***

"Are you going to--"

"I already did."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"You were going to mention that I overwatered, then ask if I put proper drainage in the pot so it wouldn't drown. So yes, I already did that."

“Refuses to accept corrections,” he mutters, and I snap, whirling on him.

“What is your problem?”

Kri stops writing and looks up from his clipboard at me. “I’m writing my report.”

I lean forward. “All week it’s ‘Doesn’t do this,’ or ‘Doesn’t follow that,’ but not once have you written down the good things I do!”

Slowly, Kri lowers his clipboard, and for a split second I think I’ve got him. With his free hands he starts listing things off.

“You don’t follow protocol, your organization is nonexistent, you rarely stick to your ‘lists’,” he says “lists” like it’s something he wants to spit out of his mouth, and my anger flares.

Kri narrows his eyes and folds his arms. “And you ignore any form of critique."

I groan, a loud sound that’s ripped from my throat. “You are the most condescending man—alien—thing I have ever had the displeasure of—“

“You are being highly unprofessional.”

“My ass!” I’m shouting now, and I don’t care. “You have been nothing but rude since you walked in! I have plants to take care of, and I can’t afford to be distracted by your stupid, meaningless corrections!”

I want to flip a table. I want to punch something. Instead, I throw my chair to the side.

It's too much. This is too much too fast. Tears prick at my eyes, betraying my frustrated state. I can't stand the thought of Kri seeing me cry, so I storm out.

The sun is blinding and I hold a hand up to shield my eyes. I'm storming off towards…I don't know where, I just need to keep walking. I need to get away.

Chapter 3 >>

#my writing #A Botanist's Guide #monster writing #Exophilia #exophilia writing #Next chapter we get a kri perspective!#I promise he's a big softie underneath all those layers #I have no idea how many chapters this will be but I'm gonna ballpark it at like 9 or 10

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