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meamiya · 2 years

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7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN 10 MINUTES IN HELL- GOJO SATORU

synopsis♱ ‣ Satoru’s snarky remarks always get him into trouble, but can he put his money where his mouth is in a challenge when the moment he comes is the moment he loses.

cw♱ ‣ gender neutral reader (female anatomy), blowjob, handjob, slight rimjob, nipple play, pussyjob, dom!reader, dry humping, pet names (baby, bunny, princess), mentions of cum eating, mentions of oral sex (fem!receiving)

word count♱ ‣ 1.9k words

authors note♱ ‣ This is my first time writing smut, but definitely not the last. I hope you enjoy!

partone parttwo

♱ explicit content! minors do not interact ♱

Your core pulses as Satoru’s hands glide up the sides of your thighs to grab feverishly at your ass and hips. Your lips are locked in a constant battle for dominance, tongues searching for the other’s as you lie atop him, thighs straddling his narrow hips. Your pussy is perched on his hard-on, which is already throbbing from your prior fondling and grinding, with only your underwear and his as separation.

After a stressful day at work, you’d entered your shared apartment, only to be swooped up by your eager boyfriend and carried to your bedroom for some much-needed TLC. You had, quite foolishly, thought that your incessantly cocky boyfriend would keep his usual teasing remarks to himself in favour of a destressing dick-down, but those thoughts flew out the window as you felt a smirk stretch across his lips.

“You’re always so eager to get into my pants, baby. Knew you couldn’t last a day without me. Bet you’re close to cumming already.” He whispers against your lips.

Confidence drips off his tongue in droves, despite the fact that it was Satoru who couldn’t even wait until you had set your bag down at the entrance before whisking you away in his arms. After a long day of dealing with arrogant men, it was the last thing you wanted to hear when in need of relaxation and a release, despite its obvious truth.

Sitting up, you glare down at him, wishing for nothing more than to wipe that stupid smirk off of his face. The wheels turn in your head before your smirk mirrors his.

“We both know that sentiment applies to you more than me, and to prove it, how about a little game.”

You know Satoru isn’t one to back down from a challenge, and when he readily agrees, you almost snicker at how easily he had fallen into your clutches.

You appraise his unsuspecting face before continuing. “If I can make you come in 10 minutes without penetration, you’ll be my slave for the next week. If I lose, I’ll be your slave for a week. Deal?”

His smirk grows ten-fold, and you can’t wait until it evaporates into thin air, just like his chances of winning your strategically set up game.

“Oh, Bunny.” He coos with mock sympathy. “You’re setting yourself up for failure here, but I must say I’m looking forward to having you as my slave for a week.”

You choose to ignore his taunting and, instead, reach over to your nightstand, grab your phone and set a 10-minute timer.

Before pressing start, you lean down to the shell of his ear and whisper, “In your dreams, ‘Toru.” You press start on the timer, and plop it onto the other side of the bed, without looking, before you place a playful kiss on his ear.

Having been together for 3 years, you’re keenly aware of all Satoru’s weak spots and you intend to exploit them all tonight.

Peeking your tongue out from between your lips, you gently swipe it along the rim of his ear before sucking the lobe into your mouth. You feel his body twitch slightly, but other than the slight tightening of his grasp on your hips, he makes no other moves.

Your lips pepper kisses down the side of his neck, each occasional suction met with a deep inhale, as your fingers slide up his sides before landing on his muscular chest. You experimentally swipe your index finger over his right nipple. Twitch. Then the left. Twitch and a deep inhale. You can no longer hold off the smirk that graces your lips as you continue to trail kisses down his neck to his awaiting chest, where a rosy blush has blossomed.

If not for the looming time restrictions, you would have taken your time in teasing him. Instead, you drag your flattened tongue over his hardened left nipple before suctioning it into your wet mouth. From previous experience, you know his left nipple was more sensitive that the right, so when his back rises off the bed slightly and a deep groan resounds in his chest, you silently cheer in triumph. You move onto the right nipple, replaying your ministration, and, in return, you’re rewarded with another, slightly softer, groan.

Despite his betraying reactions, Satoru is nothing if not defiant. “Baby, you’re wasting your time. There’s no way I’ll come from this.”

Poor little baby. He has no idea. His chest glows red but you choose not to comment.

Without saying anything, you slide down along his body, purposefully grinding back on his length causing his hips to buck. You move back until you’re kneeling between his open thighs, your kisses trailing a path down to his lower abdomen. Your fingers dance around the waistband of his boxers before sinking in slightly.

You take a moment to look up and drink in your boyfriend’s features for a second, where you’re met with a pink-cheeked, dreamy-eyed Satoru. His breathing is deeper than usual, and you mentally swoon at the bulging muscles in his arms as he grips the pillow situated beneath his head. His expectant gaze, however, reminds you of the task at hand.

Your fingers reach further into his boxers before pulling them down and off of his never-ending legs, leaving your boyfriend stark naked. The body that Satoru spends day in and day out training lies before you, covered in a sheen of sweat and a dusting of pink. He has never looked more submissive and erotic, and you wish you had the time to admire him longer.

But in the middle of all that perfection, however, lies something equally as mouth-watering. In all its 8-inch glory, Satoru’s dick, topped with lickable veins and droplets of precum, is a sight for sore eyes. If people thought his eyes were pretty, wait until they feasted their eyes on his dick. Not that you would ever allow it.

Without missing a beat, you grab a hold of his girthy cock and attach your lips to the head, placing light kisses down his shaft. A shiver passes through your boyfriend and his grip tightens on his pillow.

Once you reach his heavy balls, you take one into your awaiting mouth and simultaneously work your right hand up and down his length, flicking your wrist once you reach the tip and tightening your grip just the way you know he likes. Your left hand runs up and down his juicy thighs that flex every so often before softly grasping the neglected ball and massaging it gently.

His hips, once again, lift off of the bed and a deep, barely restrained groan leaves his mouth. You watch as his abs clench in pleasure, before giving the left sack equal attention. Your hand continues working his shaft, using his precum as lube and you relish in the way it throbs. Popping his ball out of your mouth and giving each one last kiss, you travel lower, giving his perinium one long, prodding lick from rim to balls. Satoru’s dick and body twitch in unison, and the smirk returns to your lips.

You don’t think you’ve heard fewer words out of your boyfriend’s mouth during sex and you feel immensely pleased with yourself for having shut the infamous Gojo Satoru up. His silence is short-lived, however.

Trailing even lower, you spread his legs wider and nudge the tip of your tongue over the rim of his asshole. In response his legs jerk and another groan slips from beneath his gritted teeth.

“Fuck.” Although whispered quietly, you still manage to catch the expletive as it leaves his lips. “Don’t stop, baby.”

Your laugh vibrates through your body as your hand continues its ceaseless strokes. “I thought you wanted me as your slave, ‘Toru? It doesn’t seem like you’re trying very hard to win.”

“This is nothing, baby.” His breathing begins to turn shallow.

Despite his confident words, you feel the tell-tale throbbing of Satoru’s member, signalling that he was on the prepuce of orgasm.

Returning to your knees, you grab hold of his shaft with both hands and you both watch as a glob of spit slowly leaves your mouth and drips down onto the head. Your mouth follows soon after as you encase his tip in a tight suction, your hands never letting up, a mixture of your spit and his precum tantalising your tastebuds.

He can no longer hide the tremble of his thighs and how his head flails from side to side in pleasure. You know that you have victory in the bag, but you decide to take a risk in favour of making Satoru eat his words, despite the fact that you’re unaware of how long you have left of the challenge. Right before he’s about to come, you withdraw completely and watch a mixture of shock, agony and relief cross his features.

Breathlessly, he stutters, “Wha…Why?”

“I’m not done with you yet, baby.” You mock with a saccharine smile.

You quickly peel your panties from your drenched thighs before straddling his hips once more. Immediately, your hips drop and your pussy rests on his aching dick. You’d been wet since you’d reached your bedroom and by now your slick had begun dripping from between your thighs, covering the entirety of Satoru’s dick as you glide along his length.

With each grind your clit throbs and your eyes flutter in pure ecstasy. His hands have returned to your hips in a bruising hold, aiding your movements as you rotate your hips in tight circles over his tip before sliding back down. The moans and words of appraisal that leave his lips are music to your ears and spur you to move your hips that much faster.

By now, Satoru’s eyes have closed as a last resort in regaining his composure and to ward off his impending orgasm, but you had one last trick up your sleeve. Reaching up, you switch between grabbing at your breasts and tweaking your hard nipples.

“Open your eyes, Satoru.” You demand in a tone that he can in no way disobey and the sight before him is his undoing; blatant fondling, swollen lips and a wet friction between his legs.

“Fuck, Bunny! I can’t. I’m cumming!”. With one last groan, Satoru simultaneously thrusts up and pulls you infinitely closer to where you are joined. Spurts of white cover his belly in large quantities and you can’t wait to lick them off.

Satoru’s body eventually falls limp beneath you, limbs spread across the bed. His hair sticks to his drenched forehead and his eyes are closed in bliss as he gulps in as much air as his lungs can hold.

Beep beep.

The buzz of the alarm breaks the short silence, and you smile in victory as you turn it off.

“Too bad ‘Toru. Now then.” Your finger taps your chin in mock thought. “As my first order in command, you have to eat me out until I say stop.”

Before you even finish your sentence, you find yourself on your back with Satoru hovering above you.

“Your wish is my command, Princess. I haven’t had dinner yet and I’m starving.”

#gojo #gojou #gojosatoru #gojousatoru #gojo smut #gojou smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #sub gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut

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ladyhoneydee · 2 months

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Icebreakers

Zelink | Modern BotW AU | 5.5k

“It’s…Zelda, right?” he asked hesitantly. “Zelda Bos…Bosso…” He couldn’t remember her last name. He’d only heard it once before, at the summer neighborhood cookout, when the older lady two doors down warned him to steer clear of the eccentric robotics engineer who lived at the end of the cul-de-sac. At the time, Link—never a social butterfly with new people anyway—had shrugged and taken the neighbor’s advice. “Bosphoramus,” she supplied. “You’re Link Firly, yes?” “Yes,” he breathed, and shook her hand. It was warm. …He tried not to think too hard about that.

Or, Link is terrible at shoveling his driveway in the winter, and Zelda invites herself over to give him a hand. Or many hands. Guardians have a lot of limbs, after all!

Written for Day 18 of @zelinktines24, "Ice"! Read it on AO3 or under the cut!

Link jammed the ice pick down into the same lump of frozen sludge for what felt like the thousandth time and sighed.

He liked winter. The trees snow-dusted, as if the goddesses had visited with a bag of powdered sugar; the ice on the creeks and lakes thick enough that he could frolic on their frozen surfaces or even drill down to fish for a chillfin trout or hearty salmon for supper; the skiing and snowshoeing trips through the woods with an eye out for any squirrels, white pigeons, or trilling red sparrows accompanying him in the underbrush.

The winter chores? Not so much.

He’d put off shoveling the day before. A thick blanket of snow had come down overnight, settling on his car’s hood and the expanse of his driveway, but the way it sparkled under the late morning sunlight had been so inviting…Link couldn’t bring himself to shovel on such a beautiful day. Instead, he’d escaped to the hoarfrosted forest in the morning and spent the evening grinding through a few levels of his most recent video game purchase. He’d fallen asleep on the couch and woke up with a dry, gummy mouth, and an inexplicable feeling of weighty dread, like a grizzlemaw bear had hunkered down in his stomach.

The dread explained itself when he glanced up from the screen of his half-dead sheikah slate and caught a bleary-eyed glance at his front walk while waiting for the kettle: yesterday’s snow had turned into today’s ice.

He had spilled his tea slipping on a patch of ice on his front step, gotten snow down his boots while clearing his car, and had to shovel around the car twice after realizing he hadn’t cleaned off its roof beforehand. And from there, it only got worse: shoveling was hard, irritating work that only got colder the longer he suffered. He had tried his best with the driveway—really!—but it was difficult to shovel in the long, efficient lines a friend had once suggested. He’d take what seemed like a decently-sized stripe, only for the snow to overflow off his shovel and muck up the lines he’d so painstakingly cleared. He’d do a teeny little stripe and look despairingly at the expanse of driveway he had remaining. He’d carry along for a nice little stretch, only for his rhythm to be messed up by his shovel stuttering over a patch of ice.

A few passes across the driveway found the shovel standing upright in a snowbank and Link examining a particularly jagged icicle dangling from the roof. When he finally tore himself away from the icicle, his tongue stinging fiercer than a courser honey bee, he gave ice picking a try…only to find it even more tedious.

A big chop against a pesky chunk of ice would go smash. A series of quick downwards thrusts to break lines into the ice, making it easier to remove, sounded like chnkchnkchnk. Scraaaape went the metal head of his pick against the asphalt when he tried to push along pulverized ice. And skk was the worst noise of all, the skitter of his pick along the ground when he missed a direct hit. The lack of resistance made him lose his balance every time.

Smash. Smash. Scrape. Chnkchnkchnk. Grunt. Scraaape. Toss head to get hair out of face. Smash. Smash. Toss head. Consider chopping off hair with kitchen scissors. Smash-scraaape. Repeat.

Skk-chnk. “Argh!” He thrust the offending pick away, and it clattered onto a patch of ice he hadn’t yet gotten to.

…One of the many patches of ice he hadn’t yet gotten to.

Surely anyone would agree this was hopeless. Surely his nosy neighbors wouldn’t judge him for throwing up his hands in defeat and hibernating in his warm cozy house until spring came and cleared the ice for him.

He stared blankly at the nicely-plowed road just beyond his driveway as he tied his hair back in a messy ponytail. It looked so peaceful. So reasonable. The snow a mere whisper on the salt-bleached pavement. Would his driveway look like that if he’d been responsible the day before?

Then the apocalypse began skittering up the street, and Link wasn’t so envious of it anymore.

It came with a metallic scraping against asphalt, and the rhythmic clunking of a hatch left open somewhere, and a mechanical whirring he swore he’d heard in his nightmares. It came with white and brown paneling, and a single eye lit with an unnatural blue that reflected off the snowbank and into his retinas. It came with far too many legs—he did not even want to count how many legs the thing had. And it came with a fluffy bundle, shaded in white and gold, perched atop its overturned-flowerpot-shaped head.

Please keep going. Please keep going. Please keep going.

The thing skittered treacherously into his driveway.

Turn around. Turn around!

It settled to a lurching, clanking halt only feet before him.

Link took an automatic step back, his eyes darting anxiously over its shining bulk. The thing was far too large for comfort. Its central body was compact, its diameter comparable to his old beloved MasterCycle, but its—leg span? arm span?—turned the thing into a hulking monstrosity. With it so close, Link couldn’t tear his stare from that glowing eye: surely it was the center of all malevolence.

“Hello, neighbor!”

In his nervousness, he’d forgotten all about the bundle of white and gold. Their—for now he knew it was a person—voice was clear, and seemed very self-possessed. Still, he could not raise his gaze.

“Oh, is the eye bothering you? It doesn’t shoot lasers, I promise.”

Link wasn’t sure if he should be reassured by this comment, or be concerned about its specificity. This inner conflict was immediately concluded when the voice followed up, very quietly, with something that he was fairly sure they hadn’t meant for them to hear: “Since I don’t have that functionality up yet…”

“H-heh, why would it bother me…” Link managed. “I’ve never seen anything look more friendly and harmless.”

“I agree!” the voice said perkily. “...wait. That was sarcasm, wasn’t it.” They sounded disappointed.

“It’s my defense mechanism.”

“Fair enough.” Link’s ears perked up at a new noise—the slide of fabric over metal. Then the thump of boots hitting the snow. The glaring eye of the apocalypse went dark a moment later.

A hand thrust itself into his field of vision: gloved in dark brown, accented in gold, fingers outstretched confidently. At last, Link looked up.

The gold and white bundle was indeed a person, and indeed even more gold and white than he had glimpsed from afar, with long blond hair and fair skin painted rosy by the cold. And, to his surprise, he knew her.

“Bosphoramus,” she supplied. “You’re Link Firly, yes?”

“Yes,” he breathed, and shook her hand.

It was warm.

…He tried not to think too hard about that.

“You can put your pick down now, Link Firly.”

Link glanced down to see that he was, in fact, clutching his ice pick in his left hand, as if ready to fend off Zelda’s mechanical monstrosity. He flushed and let the pick drop onto the ice beside him once again.

“We met at the neighborhood barbeque, didn’t we? On the summer solstice?”

“We did indeed,” Zelda confirmed. “You brought that delicious soup.”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought anyone liked the soup.” It had disappointed him at the time, honestly; the recipe was his grandmother’s and a nostalgic favorite he’d been positive would be a hit, but the pot he brought back home at the end of the night was almost as full as it had been when he’d left.

“No one likes soup.” When Link’s face fell, Zelda lost her cool for a moment, waving her hands in the air. “Ah, I mean, no one likes soup in the summer! It’s too warming, you know? And there’s just no comparison when Daruk’s brisket was right there. You have to admit that the guy knows how to roast—even if he originally learned for rocks rather than meat.”

“True enough,” he said, a little sulkily.

“If…if it helps, your soup was the best I’ve ever tasted.” Zelda bit her lip, and Link realized she was nervous. He couldn’t help but smile reassuringly.

“That does help, actually. I’m glad you liked it.”

Although he certainly couldn’t make out tension in her shoulders under her heavy woolen coat, Link thought he saw her relax. He breathed his own little sigh of relief.

Neither spoke for a moment. Zelda’s gaze drifted back along his mess of a driveway, and Link kicked embarrassedly at a patch of snow. Eventually, when the silence had stretched to an unbearable length—thirty whole seconds! That was way too long, right?—he took the plunge.

“So…what’s with the spider?”

Zelda’s brows creased. “Spider? What spider?” When he gestured towards the thing behind her, he could practically see the lightbulb flicker on over her head. “Ah! That would be Terrako. I call him a Guardian.”

“Does he…guard…you?” Link could just picture that portable apocalypse patrolling around Zelda’s little one-story, shooting off the aforementioned lasers at attempted robbers and neighborhood pranksters.

“Of course not! He’d hardly have any use if that were the case.”

“Ahaha…right, of course not,” he mumbled. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that the machine wasn’t intended for violence, or slightly disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to see something like that in action.

“Terrako’s use is far more practical,” she continued, as if Link hadn’t spoken. “He is a guardian against bodily wear and tear.”

“Like…repetitive motion?”

“Exactly!” Zelda’s face lit up just from that slight engagement with her work, and Link had to wonder if she was this passionate at all times, or if she just didn’t get much of a chance to talk about it. Given the neighbor’s warning, he guessed it might be the latter, which was…a little sad. Zelda did seem a bit eccentric, but harmless, and certainly very interesting.

“So you and Terrako are here because…?” Link trailed off expectantly. He certainly didn’t mind conversing with her—especially now that he knew Terrako wasn’t going to eviscerate him—but he was curious why she had taken the Guardian for a walk to his house, of all places.

“To put it bluntly—”

Well, that was a bit worrisome, if her demeanor to this point wasn’t considered blunt.

“—I noticed that yours was the only property on our street who had yet to clear their driveway, and when I observed you doing so this morning, I saw that you are quite awful at it.”

Link’s jaw dropped and hung stupidly for a moment, before he snapped it shut with teeth-clicking velocity.

“Basically, I came to help you.”

Emotions whirled within Link like a winter storm. Embarrassment at being rightfully called out for his lack of skill warred with his gratitude to a neighbor who—despite doing so in a vaguely insulting manner—had gone out of her way to help him out.

“I…don’t know what to say,” he replied honestly. “I only have the one shovel and ice pick. I guess we could trade off tasks…”

Zelda wrinkled her nose immediately. “No, no. I will not be manually shoveling your driveway.”

“Then…?”

“Terrako will do it, of course. I’ll just need a moment to program him for this task.”

“Wait, what?”

“It would be helpful if he could borrow your shovel and pick, of course, although he should be capable without the use of additional tools.”

“Borrow my—huh?”

Zelda fixed him with a contemplative stare, as if reevaluating her decision to help her confused mess of a neighbor. “Do I need to rephrase anything for you to understand me better?”

“I, ah, I mean…no.” He understood her words all right, just didn’t understand why. But he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth…or gift Guardian in the eye. “I’ll go grab my shovel, I guess!”

“Excellent!” Zelda looked both pleased and almost surprised, as if she hadn’t truly expected him to agree. The gleam in her green eyes was…well, honestly, a bit suspicious. Link’s mouth curled up into an uncertain grin in reply before he ambled over to his abandoned shovel.

When he returned, shovel and pick in hand, he found Zelda crouched down in the snow beside Terrako. A sheet of the brown-and-ivory siding of the main body gaped open, exposing the control panel within. Link peeked over Zelda’s shoulder curiously. Even with the neat, careful labeling of each wire, circuit board, chip, lever, and button that he could see, his head still spun trying to comprehend the sheer complexity of the machine. Of just this part of the machine!

“You must be a genius or something!” he blurted out. “To build a robot like this, and it actually work, and everything, I mean.”

Zelda continued flipping switches and typing commands into the slate-sized screen embedded into the center of the control panel. “Hardly. I think anyone could accomplish such a thing if they had the proper training.”

“Really…? I mean, some people just have a head for different skills, right? Different intelligences?”

“Perhaps,” she allowed, and gave a final, decisive press to a command in the top-right corner of the slate screen: Go. The dull indigo of the icon immediately blinked bright blue, the same shade Terrako’s eye had glowed. She shut the panel with gentle hands before turning back towards Link. “Although I think almost anyone can follow a list of directions.”

Link held out a hand, and to his surprise, she took it, allowing him to help her to her feet. “Surely it’s more than a list of directions, though?”

“I suppose there is some independent design work and troubleshooting involved,” Zelda surrendered with an amused smile.

Link realized, suddenly, that he was still holding her hand—or was she holding his? Regardless, the worn chocolate leather of her glove rested atop his heavy-duty black ski mitten with a weight he found to be alarmingly comfortable. He felt his cheeks flush in a way that had nothing to do with the cold.

Perhaps Zelda had noticed it too, or felt the instinctive twitch his hand had given at his realization, for she pulled her hand back to let it dangle casually at her side. His lingered in the air for a moment longer before he hurriedly retracted it as well.

“So, ah, what happens next?” Link looked past her at Terrako. The Guardian had awoken, its form straightening up and its eye burning blue once more. He stifled a shudder.

“Now you give him your pick and shovel,” she stated baldly, as if it were obvious.

“Just—just like that?”

“Indeed. Just like that.”

Brow furrowed with consternation and a bit of disbelief, Link tentatively held out the two handles. The tools seemed tiny in comparison to the Guardian’s massive size. He almost leapt back in shock when two of its (many, many) legs jolted to life, shooting out and grasping the tools in the prehensile clamps of its feet.

“Whoa!”

The gleam had returned to Zelda’s eyes, and this time he could see it was tempered with pride. “Good boy,” she told Terrako.

“Can…can he understand you?” Link almost wouldn’t be surprised if the Guardian could, after what he’d just experienced.

“Of course not,” she said dismissively. “He’s just following the directions I programmed.”

“Oh. That makes sense—”

“I just like to tell him that he’s a good boy.” She sounded like someone talking about a beloved dog, and Link fought off an amused grin. “Anyway, you should probably get out of the way now.”

He stiffened. “What?”

“You’re in the way of his sensors, and he’s programmed to complete a task. There’s a slight chance of, ah, bodily removal.”

Link had never moved so fast in his life.

By the time Zelda joined him at his front step, she was snorting with laughter. “You should see your face! I don’t think even Terrako could run so quickly!”

“I’m just not a fan of bodily removal,” Link said, pouting despite himself. “Anyway, do you…want to come in? He won’t be done right away, will he?”

“No, by the size of your driveway…” Zelda pursed her lips in thought. “I estimate he’ll need at least fifteen minutes. Perhaps twenty-five. So…yes, I’d be glad to come in out of the cold for that time.” She grinned toothily for the first time, and Link felt his heart skip a beat. “I’d say a hot chocolate would be a fair payment for my and Terrako’s service.”

“S-sure! I’d be happy to get you one.” Link fumbled for the doorknob and swung it open wide. Warmth—blessed warmth—spilled out of the open doorway. “After you, Zelda.”

“So what is it that you do, Link?”

Link projected his voice a little louder than normal so that Zelda, seated at his kitchen table, could hear his words without him having to turn his gaze away from the stove. “I work at Howl.”

“Haven’t heard of it.”

“Oh, it’s an outdoor outfitter. I’m basically, heh, glorified retail.”

Zelda hummed sympathetically.

“It’s definitely not all bad, though! I really like outdoorsy stuff, and I get to lead people on skiing and snowshoeing expeditions about once a day.”

“Does that mean that you have to know how to not die while using skis?”

Link laughed. “Yeah, or at least, no one has told me yet that I have died while using them, so I’m a convincing ghost if nothing else.”

“I would probably die if I tried,” Zelda said. Intriguingly, it seemed like she was seriously contemplating the scenario and its outcome, rather than her comment being the kind of lighthearted, self-deprecating ones he heard all the time at work and from acquaintances.

“Aw, come on, even if I was your guide?” he joked.

“Especially if you were my guide.”

Link waited for an elaboration. None was forthcoming.

He realized, suddenly, that the milk had gone over its intended mild simmer and was approaching a boil. Snatching up the handle of the saucepan to hold it up off the heat, he scrambled for the burner dial with his other hand. After a moment, he set the saucepan back down on the lowered flame, only to lift it up again when the milk surged back to its near-boil.

Zelda must have seen the expression on his face, because he heard her giggle off to the side. “This is a rather, ah, demanding hot chocolate method.”

“Why yes, the secret ingredient is despair.”

“How experimental! Remind me why you’re not a professional chef?”

“The culinary schools just wouldn’t accept me because they knew I was advanced beyond their curricula, but alas, the fine dining institutions won’t hire me without a culinary degree. I am a victim of bureaucracy.”

Zelda wheezed with laughter, and Link risked a glance away from the milk in order to peek. The way her nose scrunched up and her eyes squinched almost completely closed when she laughed was...

He turned back to the burner and unceremoniously dumped in his favorite dark chocolate cocoa mix, feeling heat in his cheeks that had little to do with the steam rising from the stovetop. Under his watchful eye and careful whisk, the milk and mix combined into a gloriously warm, rich, and mouthwatering brown, and he poured the contents of the saucepan into two large mugs.

“And you?” he asked. “What do you do?”

“Robotics.”

Link laughed at the bluntness of her answer before he realized that she wouldn’t be following up this answer with additional explanations, either. “I mean, yeah, I can tell! But do you have a degree, are you getting one…?” He took the seat opposite her at the kitchen table and slid her mug across.

“Oh! Indeed, I just began my final semester of my Robotics PhD program at the Hateno Institute of Technology. Terrako is my thesis, as it were.” She lowered her voice, and Link instinctively leaned closer across the table. “To be honest, I began him as a personal project long before the thesis stage, but fortunately the proposal committee didn’t know that when they approved me.”

“Smart and sneaky!” Link teased. “Is Terrako ‘that terrible, noisy project she’s been working on in her garage for four years and is definitely against the law and we’ll be blessed if it doesn’t burn the entire neighborhood down one of these days’ that I’ve heard about from various members of the Homeowners Association, then?”

Zelda grimaced. “The HOA never wants anyone to have nice things. Can’t paint your front door turquoise, can’t put your trash out more than 24 hours before the collectors come, can’t build an eight foot tall fully automated and intelligent robot in your garage…”

“They’ve nailed me for the trash thing, too. And not having proper landscaping. Why is it not acceptable to reseed the lawn with native grasses and let it grow to its proper length? I’m doing the neighborhood a service, given how pollination has improved around here.”

“Funny, they reached out to me about improper landscaping as well. That was…” She trailed off, remembering, then scrunched up her eyebrows. “Well, I was still developing Terrako’s skill set at that time, after all,” she sniffed. “They shouldn’t have expected perfection from him.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate, and her eyes went wide. “Nayru, this is fantastic! What did you do?”

“Nothing really,” Link replied bashfully. “Real milk and doing it on the stovetop goes a long way. And I use a really good mix, straight from a small producer in Faron.”

“Please text me a link to it, because this is delicious.” Zelda took another sip and closed her eyes appreciatively.

Link blinked. “I, um…I don’t have your number.”

Eyes still closed, Zelda waved nonchalantly in the direction of her slate, which she’d set beside her on the table. “Passcode is 16643. Go ahead and add yourself to my compendium.”

Obediently, he picked up her slate and navigated to her compendium, although he shot her a hesitant look. “You sure? I could just pull up their website in your browser for you.”

“Thank you, but no. I’ll need your contact information in order to reach out about doing this again regardless, so we might as well maximize efficiency and do it now.”

Link’s fingers froze over the screen where he’d been typing Link Firly (shovel/soup guy) into the new compendium entry. “You want to do this again?”

“Well, obviously.”

Obviously?

“You clearly need assistance with your driveway—”

Ouch.

“—the task itself is perfect for training Terrako, which will dramatically improve his performance and my eventual committee review—”

Well, that was fair enough, and he would be more than happy to help—

“—and I find I quite enjoy your company, Link Firly. I would certainly not be opposed to engaging with you more often.”

Sweet Din, did she just say that?!

Link’s mind fritzed out, staticky with pleased surprise. He wondered absently if Zelda’s skill with technology could transfer to the error message in his brain.

“Assuming, that is, that you feel the same?”

The tone of Zelda’s voice hadn’t changed—still posh and friendly and commanding all at once—but he noticed with a start that her knuckles had paled where they wrapped around her mug. Was she…nervous?

He rushed to assuage her worries. “Yes! Sorry, yes. I was just…thinking. But I would love to hang out!”

The same pleased, surprised smile she’d given him earlier when he agreed to let Terrako clear his driveway leapt to her face. His heart beat faster at the sight.

“Zelda, I think you’re really—”

SCCRREEEECHKKNKNHNHNNHHH!!

Link just about jumped out of his skin. The horrendous scraping of metal on cement had come from outside—from his driveway. Alarmed, he turned to Zelda, and found her eyes just as wide as his own.

Abruptly, she sprang to her feet. “Terrako!”

Link stood up quickly, but she was a blur, impossible to keep pace with as she dashed to the door with the speed and grace of a mountain doe. “Wait, you forgot your—”

The door slammed.

“Coat,” he finished weakly. He stared down at the white and gold bundle in his outstretched arms, then at Zelda’s nearly-empty mug of hot chocolate.

And smiled.

When he made it outside, still clutching Zelda’s coat, he found that the driveway had undergone an utter transformation. Every inch was clear of snow, and even the most stubborn patches of ice had been chopped and swept cleanly off into the yard on either side. There was also a mildly deep gouge marring its exact center, right where the worst patch of ice had once been. The ice pick and shovel laid discarded in the yard.

He blinked. First at the gravelly wound in his driveway, and then at Zelda, although all he could see of her were her knee-high boots sticking out from beneath Terrako’s lifeless form. The white shearling and caramel leather stood out against the spotless grey pavement.

“Everything okay over here?” He approached the Guardian cautiously, ducking beneath an errant leg frozen in midair. Sure, Terrako was off right now, but if he had the power to do that to his driveway…

“Certainly.” Zelda’s muffled voice echoed from beneath Terrako’s chassis. One boot began to waggle in a way Link automatically registered as anxiety.

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure?”

A metallic sigh. “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed.” Zelda began to shimmy her way back out from under Terrako, and he watched her black leggings, turquoise thermal shirt, tangled golden hair, and finally her face slowly inch into view. “There’s nothing wrong with his physical mechanisms, fortunately. It seems that I left one of his ventilation hatches open, and the cold air made his internal fluids heat up dramatically to compensate, which of course led to the wires near them overheating as well.”

“Of course,” Link echoed. “And that made him malfunction…?”

“Indeed.” She tapped a bare, cold-reddened finger against the opposite palm along with her words. “The high internal temperatures resulted in errors in the thermal, visual, and tactile sensors in his feet and body.” Two fingers. “They reported incorrect readings, therefore, to the central operational mechanism.” Three fingers. “Acting in occurrence with the false readings, the command center, which had been programmed to clear all ice using force proportional to its thickness, gave the command to scrape very hard.” She gave Link a tight, chagrined smile. “And thus your driveway became his victim.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you figured all that out so quickly.” His gaze settled again on her rosy fingers, and immediately he thrust out the white and gold bundle. “Ah, here. Looks like you might need this.”

“Oh!” Her expression softened into something more genuine. “Thank you very much.” She had her coat on in short order, buttoning up the center and the collar piece with fingers that were nimble despite the cold, and securely tying the brown leather belt around her waist.

He watched until she had pulled both chocolate leather gloves over her hands, and then, satisfied, continued. “It’s okay, also! I don’t mind that he messed up my driveway—it’s just asphalt.”

Zelda blinked for a moment, her eyebrows pushing together like kissing caterpillars. Then green eyes lit up with recognition—followed, strangely, with an almost bashful pouting of her lips that made Link want to—

Nothing. He wanted to nothing.

Yet, anyway.

“Erm,” she said eloquently. “I wasn’t. Actually. Thinking about your driveway when I said I was disappointed. I was. Um. Irritated at what this meant for Terrako’s performance records.”

She was taller than him. How was she able to look up through her eyelashes like that when she was taller than him? That was downright unfair.

“Oh.” It was all he could think to say, distracted as he was by dark feathery ferns framing emerald pools.

“I certainly do apologize for the damage done to your driveway!” she burst out, clearly misinterpreting the cause of his wordlessness. “It was unintentional, but I am the party at fault, and I will take responsibility for my actions.”

“It’s alright,” he replied. “The rut isn’t that deep. Won’t mess with Epona any.”

“Epona?”

“Um. My car.”

She grinned. “No wonder you didn’t bat an eye at my naming Terrako. We would seem to be two peas in a pod, Link Firly.”

“I’m shocked that you used a nature metaphor rather than a mechanical one,” he replied, surprised by his own boldness. “Not two screws in a…” He didn’t know any machine words. Dammit. “Gear?”

Her laugh rang out over the snow. “Two loose screws, maybe.” Her expression sobered. “I certainly could have been more attentive. That ventilation hatch was open when I arrived regardless of my focus, but honestly—” The pout returned full force. “—I was too distracted by you to do my full checks!”

“M-me?”

“Yes, you! With that scraggly ponytail and smile and that thing you do when you’re embarrassed and you scratch the back of your head—yes, that! No one with such helpless puppy energy should be that cute!”

Link’s hand froze in his hair. “You think I’m cute?”

“Obviously,” Zelda sniffed. “Much like Terrako, I do have visual sensors that are quite adept at taking readings.”

Link tried not to think about the potential of her thermal and tactile sensors taking readings as well. It was a valiant battle. He lost.

Zelda looked at him, and he looked back, meeting her gaze dead-on. There was the slightest of flushes blooming in her cheeks and the tips of her ears, but her face was set with determination and self-assurance. Darkness streaked the right side of her jaw.

“You have a little…” He reached out, at once ginger and intrepid, his hand moving towards her slowly enough that she could see it coming and move out of his way or stop him if she didn’t want him to touch her. Her eyes widened ever so slightly, but she stayed utterly still as his fingers grazed, pressed, traced firmly up her jaw. They lingered for a breathless moment right beneath where her jaw ended and ear began. Then, slowly, he pulled away.

Only the slightest smear of black remained on her cheek, with most of the gummy substance safely collected on his fingers. He flashed them towards Zelda for her to see.

“Ah, grease. Mechanic’s contouring.” Despite her nonchalant words, Zelda’s voice was light and wispy, like dandelion puffs blowing in the wind. Her hand rose to her jawline and hovered there.

He could’ve told her she was smart and confident and beautiful, and that he liked her bluntness and her preoccupation with her robot and also just her. But there was something else he could say to her that, if his hunch about her personality was correct, would do a far better job of conveying his feelings.

“Don’t worry, Zelda.” He smiled. Her name on his tongue was lemon zest and the whole sweetness of honey. “There will be plenty more snow and ice this winter for Terrako to improve his performance on. Plus, you’ll be able to teach him how to repair asphalt come spring, for portfolio diversity.”

Zelda’s eyes glowed, and he knew he’d gotten it right. “I’ll see you next time it snows, then.”

“Or before that.” He flushed despite himself.

“Or before that.” Her smiling eyes held his for a moment that shimmered like freshly-fallen snow under the light of the sun, before she turned to Terrako and the gaping control hatch on his side. Those expert fingers danced once more across the keypad and screen, and the robot straightened, its singular blue eye flashing back on to full power.

Link didn’t think he’d ever get used to that…but he was certainly willing to try.

“You know, now that I think about it,” he said, the tiniest lilting hint of teasing entering his voice, “I thought I’d heard something like a hatch clanking around when you came up the street.”

Zelda paused halfway up Terrako’s side, hanging from well-camouflaged ladder rungs he never would have noticed were he not so close and so attentive to the woman climbing them. “You ruffian! You should have told me!”

He stuck his tongue out. “Hey, I’m just a simple retail guy, what do I know about big fancy robots and the noises they make?”

“About robots? Not much, I imagine.” Zelda settled in upon Terrako’s head, and beamed down at him. “But you’re going to.”

The apocalypse with its waving white and gold bundle scuttled back down the street towards the cul-de-sac it called home, and Link watched it go, heart pounding in his throat for a completely new reason.

How strange and lovely it was to hope for its swift return.

#loz #zelda #botw #zelink #botw zelink #modern au #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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taoofshigeru · 5 months

Text

2023 Game of the Year Post

Looking back, I was surprised to see how few "new" games I had played this year. But two of them were absolutely excellent so I'm going to talk about them a little.

In February, a game I was expecting to be good showed true greatness, and, in mid-November, a black-and-white indie touched my heart.

[Spoilers for In Stars and Time/Octopath Traveler II to follow.]

Let me start by talking about In Stars and Time/ISAT.

ISAT is a gay game about timeloops. The aloof but amiable rogue Siffrin sees their sanity stretched like a stick of used chewing gum as the fighter repeatedly chickens out on confessing his love for them and sincere heartfelt moments of human connection become rote scenes he must perform.

Throughout the process, Siffrin uses humor to deflect from serious emotional questions and eventually starts drifting away from the group during conversations. The specific character traits of 1) serial people-pleaser, 2) depressed person, and 3) funnyjokespun person who at times used humor to deflect from those issues was a little too specific in a way that hit in an emotionally relevant way.

Even more than that was the way it toyed with my patience as a player. I'm what I would describe as very good at games with repetitive tasks. Like, my tactics-loving friend and I have been doing a co-op playthrough of Tactics Ogre, and I was the enby who ultimately chose to be responsible for grinding Galgastani CF to recruit ultimate goth girl Cressida. It took hours of repeating the same battle and just babysitting the game for hours at a time. Sure I'd be willing to read through heart-to-heart events repeatedly to make the Siffrin's friends happy. I'd do it once, twice, even a fifth time. But my persistence is not bottomless.

In Stars and Time read me perfectly.

I did end up skipping or avoiding those events once the game stopped being a combat RPG and started being a visual novel/monkey island-style adventure in Act 4. I did start zoning through particular events once they happened more than 10 times. My patience did give way, though not to the extent of the protagonist Siffrin when they suffered a meltdown. And this happened right around the time when Siffrin started putting real distance between them and their friends. It took me to a dark place with the character in a way that made the catharsis at the end so worth it.

All of it went towards really effectively communicated the game's point of how it's worth it to talk to your friends about your problems.

~~~

The other game that moved me this year was also built around repeating and growing. It was about throwing yourself at the wall over and over again, with a little more force, a little more refined strategy, a little more panache and willingness to take risks. And about getting it just right, finally. This was my experience with Octopath Traveler 2

So, first of all, strategizing in OT2 kicks ass. Like the Bravely games of yore, this game nerfs the most broken tools (i.e. the Hunter's patience) from the first game, but gives the player new broken tools that synergize in new, exciting ways. And critically, it then throws enemies at you that can take it all and still be a challenge. (Sea of Stars did not do this last part.)

Got used to using someone's primary job for a lethal combo setup? Well guess what, primary jobs are now banned! Got a 6-attack strike with a killer legendary weapon that'll break any monster? Guess what, that weapon you used to get the break is now no longer the zombie dragon's weakness! Spent all your time building up your favorite 4 in an 8-character party? Guess who's gonna handle the superboss' second HP bar?

For a single-player game, it legitimately felt like I was experiencing a design that had been built to anticipate the player's combat choices on a meta level and would only let the door open for solutions that were suitably intricate and clever. Aside from superbosses, the game wasn't extraordinarily difficult, but it still left me constantly scrambling through my toolkit of HP, MP, turns, latent power, items, collectable monsters, and money mid-battle to find a solution to pick any given boss' lock. As a turn-based combat RPG, OT2 killed it.

And that wasn't even the strongest point.

The character stories in Octopath Traveler one were, on a basic level, enjoyable, and were engaging enough that the game's art, soundtrack, and deep turn-based combat could combine to make a great game. Octopath II ups the storytelling game significantly, offering nonlinear chapter order, story-focused chapters that end without a boss fight, and a cast that's generally very well written and played brilliantly by the English vocal cast. The positive impression I had of the game after the first ten hours gave way to a wowed one as characters started to interact, showcasing entertaining personal dynamics and tugging at the strings of a looming, bigger mystery. The climactic arc, Journey for the Dawn, ties all eight chapters together and presents an incredibly satisfying and at times emotionally wrenching finale.

I don't know if any side character in a game has ever hit me half as hard as Ori the Scrivener has

But also, mystery arc main plot removed, the world of OT2 has so much character. There's a whole questline where you sit through a court hearing and then have to investigate the mystery around town to show up and avoid a wrongful verdict with a key testimony or piece of evidence. Secret princess/gardener lesbian subplots and eldritch stuffed toys are just some of the things that exist in the background.

The story about getting it just right wasn't just a player experience. It was also the meta narrative - writing in the first game wasn't weak by any means, but the writing in the second game is just an inarguable improvement. Combat in the first game pitched juicy fastballs that were well-scaled to my play experience, but this baby kept tossing out monster curves and tricky sliders.

I think creative perfection is a myth, because it's always possible to improve. Octopath Traveler II shows how, and that's why it's my game of the year.

~Thanks for reading my selfish little blurb!~

#spoilers #game of the year #goty 2023 #goty #octopath traveler 2 #in stars and time #in stars and time spoilers #isat spoilers #octopath traveler 2 spoilers #isat

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ughdontbeboring · 2 years

Text

no time

henry cavill x woc reader

Henry is in no mood for teasing

warnings: smut (minors dni)

sidenote: of course im my horniest right before bed and when i wake up, so this magic is me just waking up 😅😇 i dont give permission for mt work to be used anywhere in any form.

if you fucks with it, like it, love it, reblog ans comment! 🥰

Her hips rolled back and forth smoothly at a slow pace. The slick seeping from her core wetting his hard cock that was pinned between their bodies.

The waiting game was driving him crazy.

“Stop teasing love” he huffed up at her.

Mischief twinkled in her eyes.

“No” she simply stated.

Her hips rolling slower. She didn’t know how long she’d last playing this little game. She was moments away from breaking, she need him so bad-

She felt his large warm hand grip her throat and pull her upper body forward before she knew what was happing. She was so focused on teasing him some more she had noticed that switch in his eyes.

Now she could see it. The games were over. He was no longer going to be her prefect English gentleman.

His large chest seemed bigger as his tanned skin stretched over his muscles. His hand was tight around her neck, not enough to hurt but enough to let her know he was done with her games. Enough to know he need her just as much as she needed him.

They were face to face. Her body completely flushed with his. Heat radiated off his hot body warming her against the hotels ac that was blasting. God this man was always a furnace.

“You love this shit” He taunted, it was true she did, she loved when he got rough, when he used her. “I can feel even more slick dripping down my balls because I grabbed you by your pretty little neck”

She whimpered as she sucked her bottom lip. He was right, she could feel more slick dripping from her and onto his cock and balls. Henry made a sound that came from deep within his chest, god she was making him even harder. But she hadn’t moved.

“Sink that wet tight cunt on my fat cock now princess” Henry commanded as grinded gassing her. She jerked at the action, pleasure flooding her body.

“Y/N-“ He started when she didn’t move.

He didn’t have to finish using her name before she was scrambling to grip his cock. Henry hardly used her name, unless he was in one of those moods. As much as she loved those moods she also knew they didn’t have the time to fully go there. Henry was never late for anything that his job required of him, it was something he was proud of, she wouldn’t want him to start now just because of her.

Her starting this situation this morning was risking because they didn’t have much time before his team would be here to get Henry ready for his first premier of his new movie.

A movie that also required her lover grow a beard. She loved all of Henry’s looks but beards just made her feral and she was constantly jumping on him whenever she had the chance, like now even when she knew their was no time.

But what was she to do when she woke up to a hard cock rubbing against her, while the beast of a man laid sleeping? Wake him up to a wet and warm mouth like he loved.

Finally she sunk his head with in her as she laid hovered over his chest.

The man’s cock was large and thick, every time felt like the first time with Henry. She knew he loved that she struggled to take him but that she always did and did well for him.

She took a deep breathe before pushing down more. She seen his face falter, his brows pinch together in pleasure before returning to a cold icy glare.

“Oh fuck” she moaned. That harsh glare always did something to her. He just looked so hot angry but she knew it was malice free. She also knew that glare was his trying to contain himself. Oh how she wished they had time for him to spend the day using and fucking her at his whim.

Tired of her games and the fact that she had hardly taken much of him, Henry took control and started to push more of himself into her wet cunt.

“Shit Henry” she moaned out trying to steady herself, one hand laid on his furry chest and the other around the hand that still held her throat. Without notice Henry sunk fully into warmth before he started to drill up into her.

She gasped as she fell forward, trying to hold on. His thick long veiny cock splitting her walls. Her hands moved to grip his large shoulder and the other around the back of his head. The short styled hair cut was ticking her soft palm.

His thrust were brutal as he planted his feet and drilled into her. The action causing her whole body to jerk forward while she tried to hold on.

“My pretty girl you better hold on….if I slip out this cunt before I cum, I won’t let you cum the rest of this press tour” His deep voice threatened in her ear.

Her eyes widen as she tighten her grip on him, her pussy involuntarily gripping him tighter at the threat that had her cunt soaking him more. Henry smiled against her neck, his nasty girl loved this little games just as much as him and she had no clue his publicist texted him last night that they would be meeting later because of a delay at the venue.

She was in for a few more round this morning.

#Henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill one shot #Henry cavill x yn #Henry cavill x you #henry cavill x woc #geralt x reader #august walker x reader #syverson x reader #walter x reader #Henry cavill rpf #henry cavill fanfic

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sinful-huntress · 1 year

Note

That blackout post had me blushin n kickin my feet

TYSM FOR WRITING IT

If you want can i request another where the guys decide to play an innocent game of twister but it results in them playing into suggestive positions with their s/o 🤞🏽

Aha im curios to see how that goes down

And also i have a question when you post i get a notification but when i see that you’ve posted i can’t see your post, mostly it’s because of the mature content but can you tell me where to find those posts?

Tyty i hope You’re doing well phew does that last post have me redder than a tomato🔥🔥

Heh heh heh

It was your turn to pick a game. Rather than anything 'typical' you pulled a game you hadn't played in a long while. A nice game of Twister, innocent enough... or so you thought. The little plastic spinner seemed determined to have you and your lover grinding against each other in the best-worst ways.

Klaus

Klaus was fully aware of how you two were currently positioned. Every fiber of his being was aware that you were wobbling due to how far apart your legs were at the moment... and Klaus was trying so hard not to stare.

What didn't help was the fact that the closest yellow dot for his left foot to go to was between your legs. He didn't have much choice.

Well, he did. Technically speaking he could forfeit. But you had asked him not to. You practically begged him for a fair game till one of you actually fell over. So no, Klaus didn't have a choice except to ease his foot between your legs.

"Well hello there sir." You were honestly surprised at how bold a move Klaus was pulling, considering you were now basically sitting on his leg, "Can I help you?"

Hanging his head to hide his blushing face, Klaus remained silent. Instead, he reached for the little demon spinner for your turn to move.

Steven

"You're gonna lose you know." "Oh c'mon, Steven. We haven't even touched the board yet." "I have longer legs." "And?"

He knew this was bound to happen. Steven lowkey rejoiced and lamented letting you pick this game. On the one hand, it was fun tormenting you by being so tangled together. Accidental touches was a decent strategy for winning in this particular game.

On the other hand, Steven was also affected by the mounting tension as the two of you twisting around one another like this. Every time his elbow brushed against your chest, every shift pressing more clothed skin, every time he felt like you were about to collapse...

Steven couldn't help but picture you two reenacting game night in the bedroom. Without clothes of course.

Leo

"Are... are you sure about this [Name]?"

"Yeah! It'll be fun." Leo was broken by your cheerful smile, "Unless you're afraid you're gonna lose."

A tiny, strained groan escaped Leo. His mind racing a mile a minute, thinking fifty-three moves ahead when the two of you would be struggling to move because somehow you both ended up tied together like a pretzel. While he didn't dislike the idea, Leo would be lying if he said he wasn't flustered to hell and back over it.

And he was right. Though, it took a lot less time for his nerves to cause him to fall over. And with you falling on top of him, Leo couldn't be more embarrassed about the situation. Especially with you giggling like that.

Zapp

You couldn't help but think Zapp had been a little too enthusiastic to play Twister with you, but competitive spirit was a b^tch sometimes. And backing down wasn't your strong suit.

Though Zapp did want to win, and thought that grinding against you would make you lose balance quicker. But he failed, miserably. At least in the sense of trying to knock you over, he still felt like he was winning. Whether it was because he could be all over you, or his own confidence in his flexibility, Zapp thought he would win for sure.

"So, ready to give up yet sexy?"

"In your dreams Renfro."

"I mean, we're pretty much tied up." Zapp huffed as he stretched from a blue dot to a green, "Only a few layers of clothes between us and a really fun night."

"You think so?" Christ it was getting harder to keep from slipping, the sweat and effort of holding yourself up was starting to get to you, "The way you've been cheating this whole time I figured you were trying to strip me."

"That isn't exactly off the table your sexiness." Zapp smirked as best he could, he would never admit it, but this was starting to get to him too, "And it isn't cheating. It's my own kind of strategy."

"Yeah ri-i-I-IGHT!"

Zed

Maybe being up for anything was a bit of a mistake. Zed was so very flustered and the game mat hadn't even been set up yet. He knew this would end in him gurgling apologies for invading personal space. At least, that was the basics of what he could apologize for... there would be a lot.

Even if it was expected, Zed would still feel bad about it. He didn't like the notion that he would make you uncomfortable at all. Then again... you were telling him that it was okay ahead of time. This would be a very interesting night for the poor fish-man.

And he was absolutely right! The way the two of you were twisted around one another was almost as close as the two of you got intimately. Zed couldn't stop himself from blurting apologies for brushing against your chest and rear, he couldn't help but want to give up prematurely. It was all just a little too much feeling for him.

Especially given how your shirt and shorts were riding up and sliding down with the weird angles. Meaning that skin to skin contact was inevitable. It didn't help in the slightest with how attracted to you Zed was on an average basis. How much physical contact effected him. How much it aroused him.

This was supposed to be an innocent game between lovers, but Zed was in a hyperdrive state. Far too focused on everything happening to be able to play properly anymore.

#bbb #kekkai sensen #kkss #blood blockade battlefront #ask #anon ask #klaus von reinherz #steven starphase #zed o'brien #leonardo watch #zapp renfro #sinful heathens

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luimagines · 2 years

Note

Speaking of Flooding people's inboxes. Behold! A BackseatDriver!Reader treat. Also I feel Warriors would absolutely abuse the fact he and Reader are friends to push the others' buttons.

You sighed happily as you stretched out your tired arms before slumping into the outrageously comfortable armchair Lana had gifted you. Twirling a strand of magic around your fingers, you pondered what to do with your free afternoon.

Your life was very different from your previous one, and that was without even counting the magic and potential existential crisis of living in a Video Game World.

(But you justified it as this world just being a reality unto itself and your old world had just picked up on its existence. Magic could be funny like that.)

In your old world, you had been resigned to the slow grind of a 9-5 job or something similar as you struggled to make ends meet. You did miss it, in a strange way along with your old friends and family and activities, but gaining your own body had softened those memories and time now let you look back on them with fondness instead of fathomless grief and longing as you once did when trapped in the mind of Cia.

But now, you had new friends and activities and a whole set of timelines at your feet. Not to mention magic.

Lana was a wonderful mentor and friend, helping you get used to your new body and magic. And while she occasionally had her fits due to Ganon's deep influence, Cia was also incredibly entertaining with her sharp sense of humour.

Both of the Sorceresses were currently making repairs to the chamber where they would observe the timelines, the marks still there from when Ganon had snuck in. Both of them had also scoured the entire Temple from top to bottom, practically slathering the entire place in protective wards so that no evil would ever be able to enter again.

(Although you had been the one to take down all of the creepy portraits of Link as well as all of the statues. You had taken great joy in destroying all of them.)

It was delicate work and was best done by the two who knew their craft the best (and would still be around to maintain it in who knows how many centuries).

So you were left with a free afternoon.

Which meant you had time to visit your boys.

___________________________________________________________

The morning had been rife with a battle against Black Blooded Monsters and it was almost unconsciously unanimously decided that they would set up camp and rest for the remainder of the day.

Warriors sat and idly cleaned his sword after shedding his armour as a low relaxed level of conversation floated around him. It had been a long couple of days, made longer by a noticeable absence.

You hadn't been by in a while, having mentioned that Lana and Cia had you running all sorts of errands all over the place. He'd known it was coming, but it still didn't stop him from looking up occasionally hoping to see you pop out of a portal and he knew the others had the same feelings.

With one final swipe of a rag, he resheathed his sword and set it down.

"Knock, knock!"

His head snapped up as Wind cried out your name with a loud joyful cheer and ran towards you. The two of you collided and you let out a bright laugh as you hugged Wind back tightly, their youngest hero always having to have the first hug.

You ran an affectionate hand over his head and eased him off. You clearly listened to his excitable greetings as you greeted the others with brief hugs and hand squeezes.

(After the war and after you'd gotten your own body, you had admitted late one night that you felt very touch starved due to a total lack of friendly contact for most of your existence in Hyrule. Warriors hadn't even thought twice before offering a hug which had turned into a pleasant yet self-inflicted longing cuddle session as you let out all of the pain and suffering you had been suppressing in favour of survival.

After that, he always made sure hugs were available to you. Not that it was any hardship at all to touch you.)

Eventually, you reached him and leaned down to hug him in greeting, only to be pulled into his lap in a fit of mischief. He could practically feel the almost jealous stares from the others as you squeaked and laughed in his arms.

"Hello, my lovely favourite magical friend. And how are you?"

"Wars, lemme out! And I'm fine. I missed all of you though." You said not really putting much effort into escaping. You got like this sometimes. Just craving a friendly touch and Warriors was more than happy to provide it.

Even if he had competition in the form of eight other heroes.

"We missed you too." He hummed as he tightened his grip around your waist when Twilight narrowed his eyes playfully.

It wouldn't be the first time that a near game of Keep Away would breakout with you as the prize.

Wind finally butted in with stars in his eyes as he knelt by your feet and rested his arms on your knees.

"You'll never believe what happened when you were gone." He said and you turned your attention to him fully.

It was something that Warriors adored about you. You always gave your full attention as best you could to whoever you were talking to and it felt wonderful to have someone just listen for once.

Warriors idly ran his thumb over your hip and nearly smirked at the subconscious shiver that rippled through you.

Several pairs of eyes narrowed at him and he gave them all a sharp grin.

He had no qualms about sharing you nor accepting whatever feelings his brothers in sprirt had for you because you were just that wonderful.

That didn't mean he was going to just let them have you all to themselves though.

Insanity!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

I'm adding this to the Masterlist as well. What on earth?

Not to mention that now there's a tag for this. It's Mulan! Link all over again. <3

Warrior you jerk- don't stop being you, honey. You met them first. Go get 'em!

#pinky replies #BackseatDriver!Reader

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thegeminisage · 10 months

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ok, i'm shifting into zelda mode. i have until friday to finally beat this sucker which i think has actually wound up being a good thing - i was playing less and less of it and less and less often, partly because of time, partly because of brain chemistry, but mostly because i was getting tired of the like. grind. koroks shrines lightroots etc. i don't really want to burn out on totk, so i think if i stop and play pikmin, it will be a nice little break and motivate me to come back to zelda and actually enjoy it instead of just. going through the motions. which is great because i do enjoy this game and i want to remember that i enjoy this game, and also it means i have more of it to enjoy later - at WORST, i will come back for 100% when the inevitable dlc comes out. map fatigue of doing botw twice (nearly 100%ing it the first time, doing it all the way the second time) has been my biggest problem with totk, and it's possible that i will never play either game again (or if i do it will be a very, very, very, VERY long time from now, like at least a decade), so ultimately i'm not mad about stretching it out to make it last longer than just one summer. it's going to be a REALLY long time before we get another zelda. as in, i could very well be in my 40s by then. might as well shorten the wait if i can

anyway the first order of business is to go back and finish the mineru quest. i wanna enjoy actually having her in my party for awhile before i take her to the final boss fight - i should have done it ages ago lol

oh yeah i quit bc of a hinox lol but he was super easy

deeply unfortunate: found several enormous piles of minable rock. which i felt compelled to break all of even though it wasn't fun. the good new is one of them was made of zonaite somaybe soon i can upgrade my battery again

another giant pile of zonaite. im thrilled to have the mats but like...please let me do something else now lol. even mineru's arms have durability. i need my weapons. i've used like 40 bombs. i can't do this with yunobo over and over

also love and light to mineru but she is straight up in my way, and at this point in the game i can't dismiss her. like she wants to be close so she can kneel so i can piggyback and the mech is awesome when im in the mood for it but i am trying to do something. and she makes so many noises also. i think the sages, controlswise, are my least favorite gameplay element of this. they are SO. ANNOYING. i wish there was a limitation where only one could walk around with you at once and the rest were mapped to buttons lol

ok, got it mined. now to the actual spirit temple

aww i like the music here. i like the little lightroot piano cue. i wish i had an actual lightroot lol my hearts have been decimated

little bit worried about this boss.

oh shit i was exploring the arena and fell into the water while riding the mech and now i cant find her?! is she ok......................

oh whew there she is. rip i wanted to go get that big poe...i guess not. i'm sure after the fight i'll be teleported out and even if not it is so much swimming in the dark

oh SHIT evil construct?? DARK MINERU??? why can we have dark mineru but not dark link???

aaaah the old electrified fence arena

i wish i hadnt had to use a rocket to get in here. this fight feels slow and clunky without the benefit of a fan on mineru's back

FOUR ARMS?? OH SHIT WE GOT GENERAL GREIVOUS OVER HERE

GOT HIS ASS

oh my god it's MINERU like it was mineru but now she looks like a person and not a robot

oh god is she gonna give me a CUTSCENE?

like we just got one but am i gonna get another memory

THE

MURAAAAALLLLLLLL

this is breaking so much lore.

NOT THE HYRULE CASTLE THEME

oh a man of great evil here we go show me the boy it's been too long

SCREEEEAM THERE HE LITERALLY IS!!!!!!

oh my god the theme from that very first announcement trailer

THE SHOT FROM THE TRAILERS!!!!!!!

HOLY SHIT ZELDA USING RECALL BABYGIRL YOU ARE SO COOL

YOOOOOOOOO

rauru sealing ganondorf with the fma scar movement. he threw his whole body weight behind that fist 😏

this is gay

IM LOSING MY WHOLE ASS MIND. REMEMBER THIS NAME: LINK. AND THE MAIN THEME STARST PLAYING

AND AT THE BEGINNING. IN THE VERY FIRST CUTSCENE. I REMEMBER SCREAMING OUT LOUD BECAUSE HE RECOGNIZED US. HE REMEMBERED. THE NAME

holy shit. holy shit!!! they literally are just frozen like that just like in my movie pitch <3

ANOTHER cutscene?? i am literally eating

WAHHHH fi's theme

oh im wailing she and mineru love each other so much...neither of them wants to lose the other bc theyve already lost sonia and rauru :(

GOD ZELDA BEING WILLING TO DIE FOR LINK...girl they said you WONT be able to change back ik bc of spoilers that she does but AAAAAA

idk why all the zonai are so long and wiggly. like kaminoans. i don't like it

"even if my body should perish i will be with you in spirit" zelda about to lose mom #4 :(

oh NICE i have unlocked some cool zonaite shopping options...which i refuse to use until i max out my battery, lol

wow. i even got to get those poes

popped out of the spirit temple and was able to grab a lightroot. perfect stopping point bc now i have stuff i have to do lol

#personal #loz blogging #totk lb #totk spoilers

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skinandruins · 1 year

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LIVING DEAD GIRL 2

frank castle x reader, minor dni

chapter two

Death was a dark empty hole , she was swimming in it. It wasn’t black, it was just deep nothingness , calm and serene. Being pulled from it was hell, deep struggling gasps of air , bright white lights , it felt like being pulled under and out of water at the same time. Deep erupting coughs of black clotted blood. A cold heart settling into a heavy beating rhythm. Stiff bones and dried skin.

She topples over the table. Vomiting a sweet metallic concoction of blood and acid, her bones cracked into use. A sweet rotting smell admitted from her body a sweat that clung to her. Her eyes watered and she vomited again , a mellow clumpy yellow, she spits and stands , her knees and back cracking into place , she stretches with ease. A regular occurrence after awakening. After being reborn. Her nose starts to run a bloody red.

She gazes at her surroundings like a reptile, soft and still movements, eyes sharply picking up on anything that could be of use. A shirt, a bottle of rum, a knife and a gun.

She slides the shirt over her head , it drags along the sores on her back, she tucks the gun into her underwear and takes a swig off the alcohol. Eyes boring into the sleeping man in front of her, wasn’t the first time she had been taken home dead.

She wonders if she could end the game here, a bullet to the head. But she’d rather play longer, she runs her hands over his hair. He snores.

She pulls the gun out, fingers grazing over the safety. She lines it up to his head , pushing the gun into his jaw.

Eyes snap open and a hand clutches around the gun flinging it into the other side of the room.his other hand moves towards her jaw, pushing her into the floor his thighs enclosed around hers. She pretends to struggle, her lips pouting, his face remains still.

“Always fail to kill me huh” his hand makes its way to her cheeks pulling her up by the jaw, she’s calm now , eyes glazed over like she’s not really here. He drops her head and it falls back towards the ground.

His hand grazed over her cheek. He pushes her face into the floor, her hands untouched she lay’s still. His face gets closer.

Spitting at her.

She giggles ”if i wanted to kill you , you would be dead”

He grimaces. “wanna know how i’d do it” He pushes against her jaw harder. It makes a sickening crack. She laughs harder, it comes out in corrupted chokes . She pulls out the knife from her sock , wrestling him to the ground.one hand on his wrists, He looks at her in disgust, her jaw slack and drooping. She tries to smile but she winces. She looks up , grabs her jaw and pushes it ,bones grind against each other and it pops back into place. She smiles again, this time baring her teeth like a cat. The knife runs against his throat but she doesn’t push. He doesn’t falter .

“First I’ll try and suffocate you , like when you drowned me. Then I’d shoot every single joint in your body so you couldn’t move , remember when you shot my knee caps in thinking that would stop me ? and then I’d take a meat cleaver” she’s traces out with the knife “ and cut here” it slides around his neck.

He’s still unscathed, “and here” she pulls up sharply , tracing his nose and lips. Her breath fans onto his lips, his eyes gaze upon hers, her head tilts softly, matted hair falling into his face. She whispers “ i know you wanna kiss me”He snarls at her “you stink” She sighs, hands leaving him behind as she gets off him.“Guess i’ll have a shower then” her hand finds the bottle of gin, hips swinging in the direction of the shower.

He stares at her from behind eyes , tracing the messy scars that litter her body.

Scars from him. It had been hours and Frank had almost wished she had fallen down the drain while taking a shower, when she came back she was wearing a white tank top and black boxer shorts , the empty bottle swinging in her hand. She pulled on the muddied socks, wet hair sticking to the nape of her neck. Bloodied converse and an oversized flannel shirt she pulled herself to the door. Hand dragging the handle, eyes gazing at him.

“Well frank it’s been a pleasure but i really must leave” He stood shocked, his feet controlling his body as he marched to meet her, hand pushing on the familiar weight of the door , it slammed. She turned big eyes gazing up at him. Her hands rose to meet the collar of his shirt neatening it up.

Her head tilted.“I know, I know you’re gonna miss me. Blah Blah Blah” she laughs it’s almost comical how nonchalant she’s being, as if she’s a girlfriend and hadn’t been sitting in her own filth dead for weeks . His face remains the same , still and robotic.

Her hand meets his face, slapping it lightly and booping his nose. “Well, best be off, see you soon” she waves her hand gripping the handle again and ripping the door open. She slams it and her footsteps echo against the walls of the hallway.

He stand still, facing in the direction she went off on.

fucking bitch , always getting away He charges after her, heavy boots stomping to meet her. Head tilting like a dog her lips pout.

She already knew. His hand grabs her arm pulling her towards the door. Her feet faltering behind his.

#frank castle x you #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #frank castle #the punisher x reader #the punisher #marvel vigilante #marvel smut #marvel netflix #marvel

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hinugundam · 8 months

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now that the dust has settled: my full thoughts on ff16. obvious spoilers ahead. writing this so i can stop having all these things pinball around in my brain

despite all marketing and me believing it'd be a good game in the end, i wasn't exactly faithful to 16. i didn't expect it to be perfect, and i believe that saved me from feeling deeply disappointed by it. before i even delve into specifics, i wanna say that i still think it's not a bad game and that it has strengths (though mainly in production value and its boss fights) so it's not a whole flop, but at the end of the day it didn't succeed in impressing me. it can shock, but it couldn't impress.

in the first playthrough, that whole beginning portion of the game is near perfect. id say that 1/3 to the whole first half of the game are very strong and had me thinking it'd be great all the way through, but once you make it past that point small issues in writing and pacing become larger and harder to look away from. the ambition and grand scale of everything gets so big that it feels like the game is locking you in a car and driving past it all way too fast. when they said the game was almost 2 disc's and that it was a "rollercoaster" of a ride, they were right. but not the way i thought. i think if it was stretched out and paced better, maybe even being a two part game or a trilogy like 13, the story could've been handled better with less hiccups. events and shit just kinda get away from you, and it doesn't help that side quests are timed weirdly and sometimes awfully, so much so to the point where i felt more engaged in side quests than the main story. at first it seemed to have a solid system: 2 to 3 main story beats, and then some side quests to slow it down a bit. after a certain point the story slows down and almost grinds to a halt and every like 2 main story beats you have oodles upon oodles of side quests go through, and these will all take you longer than the next few main story beats. rinse and repeat. it just kinda sucked ass and by the end i just became so detached from what was going on. the pacing struggles so bad. this isn't to say i didn't like the side quests as a whole; some aren't so great but some i felt touched me more than what was happening in the main story, and that was also kinda. weird.

when it comes to characters i feel like i have a lot of gripes. clive himself bothers me a lot because pre timeskip he's a very nuanced and troubled man, with layers to his character and lots of room for development and growth. you see his low lows and his grips on being a murderer, feeling guilty and alone, and pondering what it means to be a man or a monster, something that's very briefly shown in jill too, but it just kinda. goes away post timeskip. in fact, the feeling of being alone in his suffering and sudden martyrdom is very occasionally touched on by other characters who attempt to convince him it isn't so, but then the game just kinda..makes it obsolete? cause he's alright and he doesn't exactly think on that stuff anymore. he's the man and he can do it all. you don't see clive hit rock bottom again. you don't see him question himself or the things he's learning. at first i thought that maybe his hubris would lead him to make bad decisions, giving rise to more growth, but nah. story just goes on. this is all my own opinion obviously but the fact that it feels like clive changes off screen wasn't good. wanted to see more and feel closer to him. in the beginning you literally see him contemplating suicide..i know years pass between that but i was disappointed by his character the most. for a protag he felt okay, but nothing great. lots of other characters in game suffer from weird writing and being sidelined by plot yet he's the biggest issue for me personally.

my biggest gripe? the entire end of the game. no i don't just mean clive dying on the beach. i mean the entire final act. what the fuck was that. 86 sidequests into the final act that barely takes an hour, and it begins with a qte "fight", dion dies in the most lackluster way after being on the other side of the game the entire time and never even getting to be a party member, and then a 1 minute walking scene which felt so useless, into the final boss with the most cheesy shit. no final dungeon. no classic boss rush. you know what felt like the actual final dungeon? fuckin odin. and even that was super fast. there being no final dungeon straight up pissed me off so bad i don't think ill ever get over that lmao. not to mention ultima was honestly lame, and finding out his truth at literally the end where only clive and joshua are there to know felt shitty. hated it tbh! one of the most boring end sequences in a game ive played in a minute. that ending was clearly catered to a certain audience, and i respect that and the audience, but it wasn't for me and it only made me feel like the game couldn't hold onto its serious nature. having the main character say final fantasy and do a 9999 punch was too goofy for the source material. ff is known for its blend of both but that shit came out of nowhere and was huge whiplash. i wasn't a fan im afraid

there are many little things i could say. ive had a lot of time to sit and ruminate but i didn't walk away caring all that much. gameplay was fun, but even then it still lacked depth. once again feels like an almost great game. i don't hate the game and i don't exactly feel wholly negative about it, but it didn't impact me and didn't stick. after 2 months i was done and i haven't looked back. don't care to platinum and don't personally care for the dlcs but i will play them when they come out. it was a game! they tried hard but it had a lot of bumps and problems. didn't have to be perfect but could have been much better than the final result. would honestly give it a solid 7/10. cheers and onto the next

#if you read then i love u but remember #its mostly subjective and im not shitting on anybody elses feelings #dont hate 16 or its fans at all #sometimes i have to leave my opinions in my little internet journal to feel sated

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only-lonely-stars · 2 years

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ERROR: Remove Incompatible Software

(FFN)

[S15/16 SPOILERS (Crystallized)] After the loss of Nya, everyone in the Monastery is grieving. While Pixal has found a constructive outlet, not everyone has done the same. Meanwhile, Zane makes a choice that he may come to regret. (Rated T for mentions of trauma.)

Pixal sighed, setting down her tools for the first time in three hours. She’d been working tirelessly in the Monastery’s garages, just as a Nindroid would. The enormous projects the Ninja requested wouldn’t build themselves, and while she always grossly exaggerated the time necessary for construction, she usually worked on tight tolerances.

Even tireless Nindroids need a break.

After a moment, she stretched, listening to her joints grind from a lack of grease. All the lubricant in her joints had worn away while she worked over the past few days. She’d need to add more before her next working session in order to prevent rust and abrasion. Maybe Zane would help her reach the hard-to-access paneling– he always had before.

Zane…

He hadn’t come down to the garage in weeks. It was silly of her to miss him so much, but it felt like he was gone. Zane knew that she spent nearly all day, every day, down in the garages building the equipment the Ninja needed. Usually he would join her when he was able, but not anymore. Now he refused to enter any space that bore signs of Nya’s former presence. He had exiled himself to his own room, it seemed, and wouldn’t budge for anyone.

Not even for her.

Pixal sighed again. There was nothing to be gained by missing him. She would simply have to go upstairs and find him if she wanted his company.

These days, going upstairs to the Monastery felt like entering a different world. No longer was Pixal safe in her garage, filled with tools and metal and things to tinker with. No longer did she have a gentle reminder of Nya everywhere she looked– she had to deal with the mess of six grieving men, along with all of the things they neglected. Every memory of Nya was hidden by a layer of neglect and tears. The picture frames hadn’t been dusted in weeks.

Jay was long gone. Kai was planning on leaving…

It was only a moment of time until Pixal was left alone permanently. Was that her fear speaking for her?

Whatever it was, Pixal did not know. She stepped over an old pile of gaming equipment that hadn’t been touched in weeks and made her way along the familiar path to Zane’s bedroom door.

After a brief pause to collect herself, Pixal knocked on Zane’s door.

No response came.

She knocked again, and this time she heard Zane’s voice. “Come in, Pixal.”

The flat tone of his voice struck her as being odd, and Pixal filed away the concern in her random access memory for later usage. She opened the door to see Zane standing in front of a mirror, his chest compartment open as he looked into it.

“Zane?” Pixal closed the door behind her. She folded her hands and came to stand next to him. “What are you doing?”

“I am examining my construction,” Zane said quietly, eyes fixed on the mirror. He was staring at his internal components, eyes grazing over the wires and switches. “What is it you need, dear?”

“I was wondering where you were.” Pixal frowned. “What are you looking for?”

“My emotion meter.” Zane sighed, tapping a finger against the metallic piece in question. “Given that I no longer have a memory switch, this is the closest I can get to forgetting recent events.”

Alarms began to sound in Pixal’s interface, but she silenced them and rested a hand on Zane’s arm. She gently removed his hand from his emotion meter, holding it in her own hand. “Is that relevant at the moment? What is wrong?”

Zane was quiet. “Pixal… are you grieving Nya as I am?”

She frowned again. “Of course I am. She was my friend too.”

“Yes. She was.” He hung his head. “How selfish of me to think I am the only one grieving.”

“Zane, do not be so hard on yourself.”

“Why not?” He looked at her now, pain written across his face. “I do not have the right to hurt so much over this!”

“What? Who told you that?” Pixal seized his hand. “Zane, that is not true. Nya was your sister too! You have every right to grieve. So many bad things have happened recently, Zane.”

“Then I am even worse.” Zane looked away, eyes closed tightly. “I cannot withstand this, Pixal. This grief too much to bear.”

“Of course you can. Ninja never quit, Zane. You never give up.”

“I have already given up, Pixal.” He shook his head. “And I am sorry.”

“Sorry for what? Have you done something wrong?”

“No. I am only about to do something wrong.”

“Then stop!” She reached up to take his face and make him look at her, but he refused her touch. “Zane, what are you planning on doing?” She pleaded, touching his cheek. “Please, do not shut me out.”

Zane took a long time to respond– fifteen seconds and thirty-seven milliseconds, as her interface unhelpfully displayed. “I want to turn off my emotion meter.”

“What?!” Pixal exclaimed, finally being rewarded by Zane looking at her in alarm and shame. “Zane, you cannot do that!”

He sighed, looking incredibly tired… and more alarming still, afraid. “Pixal, I’m ready. I backed up every one of my files twice. I can’t withstand this hurt.”

“But you must process your emotions! You cannot ignore them or force yourself to forget!”

“It is not ignoring them if I do not feel them!” Zane snapped. “Pixal, I am suffering more than I can explain! I can’t keep feeling this!”

“And do you not think I understand? Do you think I don’t know how you feel?!” She glared at him. “Zane Julien, I was there when you died! I watched you sacrifice yourself and freeze the whole city! I was the only one who knew you survived for months! Do you think I do not know loss?!”

Zane shrank away. “Of course not! I am simply saying that this is the breaking point.”

“Or you are being selfish, and fearful too.” She prodded him in the chest. “Zane, you are a ninja and a nindroid. Neither are cowards.”

He took her hand by the wrist and moved it away, stepping back. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly! You don’t want to process these emotions. You want to stuff them away, like every other time.” She crossed her arms. “I may love you, Zane, but I can’t listen to this nonsense. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Do you even hear me?!” Zane accused.

“Of course I do, and I hear nonsense.” She shook her head. “You’re making a mistake.”

“Maybe you think it is. After some time, when I am able to process my emotions, I will turn them back on.” He reached for his emotion meter. “For now, I must abide by rational thinking.”

Pixal turned her face away, too angry to watch him flip the switch. “Then this is the end of us, isn’t it? All because of one small choice.”

“I don’t want to do it.” His voice was small, scared. “I just want to stop hurting.”

She closed her eyes tightly. “This won’t help. All you’ll do is hurt more later.”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“So you resort to something only we Nindroids can do, just to stop the pain?”

She didn’t get a response for another seventeen seconds and ninety-eight milliseconds.

Zane spoke, his voice was flat and emotionless. “I am a Nindroid. It is logical to take advantage of my many dissimilarities to organic beings.”

The emotionless tone of Zane’s voice made Pixal close her eyes even more tightly. She fought back tears of sorrow and anger, but she could feel them building in her artificial eyes. “You turned off your emotion meter.”

“I did.”

She took a deep, mechanical breath and looked at him. “Then you cannot even love me, can you? You cannot feel.”

Zane looked at her with a blank expression– eyes dark, brows straight, mouth only moving to speak. He had never looked more robotic. “My opinion of you has not changed.”

“Your opinion. But you can’t feel love.” She closed her eyes, turning away again. “Do you understand what you have done?”

“I have made it so that I can no longer feel emotions,” Zane noted robotically.

“No. Not that.” She shook her head, looking at him through her tears. “You’ve ended our relationship. I won’t stand by this. Until your emotion meter is back on, we are through.”

Zane didn’t react. “I see.”

She shook her head, ready to burst into tears. “I can’t even look at you.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“You’re not sorry at all!”

“I am using common colloquial speech intended for expressing sympathy.”

“I don’t want your sympathy! I want you to understand me.” Pixal turned around fully, making her way to the door and opening it without hesitation. “I hope you have the presence of mind to understand that I am angry.”

“Yes. Perhaps a cold shower will be of assistance.”

“I’ll be in the garage.”

No response came. Pixal exited Zane’s door and closed the door behind herself.

Pixal stalked the whole way back to the garage, anger radiating through every part of her mechanical body. She shut off her tear producers until she reached the garages. She went to her nook– a corner filled with old blankets and pillows that radiated safety to her.

Only then did Pixal cry, and cry she did.

The only being with whom she could ever be compatible was gone. An uncaring robot stood in his place. She’d lost the love of her life, and worse, he couldn’t even feel sorry about it.

She was left alone with her emotions now. No one would care. No one would come. Until Zane came to his senses, she didn’t even have him.

Pixal had every right to be angry, but all she could do was sob.

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