#zenith writes

[stardusthuntress]

Shark Week

TBB x afab!reader (no clone-cest) 

Word count: ~1.1k (short but sweet this time)

Summary: periods suck, but the bad batch is here to help! No smut this time, just comfort from the bestest of bad boys!

A/N: So, I'm on my period (ow), and I wish the batch was here to help... so let's pretend they are! Periods are a roller coaster, so for those who have to deal with one and need a hug from the best bad boys when it gets bad, this is for you! I wrote this as though all the men sorta have a crush on the reader, but it’s not too suggestive, so interpret it however you want! 

also, I know I'm the worst at keeping to a predictable writing schedule which makes it hard for people to keep up with my fics when they are posted. And I do remember that I promised more fun with the Right Attire series before anything else - turns out those ones are harder to write than I expected! I promise those are in the works! For now, have a sweet little period comfort fic instead!

Mando’a: 

Mesh’la = Beautiful 

dividers by @/djarrex

“What’s wrong with you?” Wrecker asks as they return from a market trip and find you curled into a ball around a heating pad, head tucked into your knees, groaning on the couch with a container of pain meds, an empty ice cream container, and an assortment of tissues and tissue boxes scattered across the nearest counter. 

All the gents pause for a moment. 

“Sabotaged by my baby box…” your voice mumbles from around the pillow you’re currently squashing between your lap and heating pad, unwilling to uncurl to do so. 

“Ah, I see.” Says Tech, redirecting his steps from the workbench in the main room to the outdoor one, knowing you like quiet when the pain grips your internal organs like this. 

Echo heads straight to the kitchen and starts filling a water bottle. 

Hunter sits down next to you and leans you against his side, rubbing your back. 

“What?” Asks Wrecker, genuinely confused. 

Crosshair chuckles from where he’s leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, and shifts his toothpick to answer. “She’s on her period, Wrecker.” He states it blatantly, much to your dismay. Not that you didn’t just say the same thing in different words, but somehow it’s the delivery that just grates on your nerves. But before you can spiral down that rabbit hole, Wrecker’s voice drags you from your emotional reverie. 

“Ooooooohhhhh…. Uh…. Want me to make you a nest?” Wrecker tries. 

Echo emerges from the bedrooms, slightly cool water bottle in hand, bowl of fruit under his arm, and a blanket draped over his shoulder, and Tech hot on his heels. “She’s not a bird, Wrecker.” 

“Mmmmm, yes please Wreck,” you mumble again, this time from Hunter’s shoulder. 

Echo chuckles fondly, “Maybe you are our little bird today.” 

“Actually,” Tech’s finger is in the air as he spouts facts, “many mammals also have nesting tendencies. Sometimes it is a child rearing tactic. In many cases it is lumped in with a group of behaviors or time of year, for example hibernation. There is also—“ 

Chuckling fondly at Tech’s incessant fountain of knowledge, you stretch a hand towards your water bottle on the counter, only to have Tech snatch it away as he stops chatting at you. 

“Hey!” You protest, hand going limp on the edge of the table in frustration with a moan of disdain. 

“That one’s empty, here,” Echo gently offers, sliding the one he’d just filled into your hand and sitting on your other side. 

He and Hunter help you sit up without uncurling to drink the water. 

Tech reappears, having deposited the empty water bottle into the kitchen. He stands in front of you with your favorite fuzzy socks, headband, and salty snacks, and a napkin so you can eat where you are. 

You give a tired smile, relaxing a bit as they all take the time to help you through the pain. “Thanks guys.” 

“We’re not done just yet,” Hunter says, placing a kiss on your temple as he stands up. 

You groan at the loss of one of your favorite heaters. 

“He will be right back,” Echo whispers into your other ear, pulling you closer. 

You hum in answer again as you relax into him. 

“Back already,” Hunter plops down beside you again. 

You grumble in protest as your comfy seat bounces in response. 

“Sorry,” he whispers against your shoulder, his hand sliding into yours. But instead of simply intertwining his fingers with yours you find yours getting wrapped around a crinkly package. 

You look down at it, confused, until you notice what it is… your favorite chocolate. 

“Hmmmm, you guys spoil me,” you mumble back. 

“Hmm, not enough,” he and Echo tell you, wrapping you in the blanket Echo brought and rubbing any part of you that they can reach. 

Tech reappears again, having used his brother’s attention on you to disappear yet again without anyone noticing… that is, except Crosshair, who walks beside him carrying an arm full of books. 

“We were unsure which one you are reading at the present time, or if there are several, but these were the books I kept a record of you mentioning most recently. Crosshair’s idea.” Tech finishes with a finger pointing to the sky, rather proudly. 

Behind them Wrecker appears, almost entirely hidden behind the piles of blankets and pillows he’s collected from your room and his. He pauses, and reshuffles so his mismatched eyes can reappear over the top of the multitude of comforts he carries. 

“Where do you wanna be?” He booms excitedly. He always enjoys building nests. 

“Where she is, Wrecker. Don’t make her move.” Crosshair tells him, with his usual grumpiness. 

Wrecker ignores him, still looking at you with a smile in his eye. 

“Na, we need more space than that. We’re all burrowing in with you, Mesh’la,” Hunter instructs. “Move that and we’ll use the floor.” 

Wrecker uses one foot to move things out of the way until Echo, and Crosshair get up and help. 

Hunter stays put, keeping you upright and warm. 

“My Dear,” Tech purrs, “I need you to simply answer yes or no to these questions so that I may make sure we have all necessary items on hand before we settle in.” 

You nod, laughing feebly, “I think you already have everything, but ok.” 

He lets a small proud smirk grace his lips and launches into a list of symptoms and you diligently answer, knowing he just wants to make you feel better. 

20 minutes later and you’re fed and curled up in the middle of 5 caring men, talking softly as you doze off. Your head is in Hunter’s lap as he massages your scalp and shoulders. Echo has your middle where he’s keeping a constant pressure on the heating pad on your abdomen, his hand massaging where your kidneys are to relieve the tension of your body in overdrive. Tech is massaging your feet through the fuzzy socks. Wrecker and Crosshair are spread out in front of you, keeping you in the center of their circle as Crosshair pretends to focus on what’s going on outside the window. Secretly he’s been unwrapping chocolate to feed you whenever you start to seem uncomfortable again. Tucked beneath your arm as you doze, is the book Crosshair pulled from the pile for you at your request. It’s quickly joined by Lula as Wrecker winks at you as he animatedly tells a story from when he walked Omega to Shep’s house for a sleepover this morning. 

“Sleep,” Crosshair whispers to you around his toothpick, “We’re not going anywhere.” 

Tucked between your favorite men in the galaxy, you drift off to a peaceful, relatively pain free, nap. By the time you fall asleep, one hand is tangled in Crosshair’s loose grip, and one in Wrecker’s. 

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself! 

taglist: @cw80831 @kenobidevil @bambambunny

[zenithsturniolo]

⇢ 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐄

⚸ audio

the voice note starts and it’s already heavy—wet fabric shifting, skin dragging, and matt’s breath coming in short, desperate little gasps.

"shit—fuck, fuck, baby…"

his voice is all shaky, like he didn’t mean to hit record but couldn’t stop himself. you hear the faint sound of the hoodie beneath him, soft cotton rubbing against skin as he ruts down into it—again and again—like it’s the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

"feels s’good, i c-can’t—fuck, you left this here and i—i’m fuckin’—fuckin’ humping it like a loser…"

he lets out a moan, high and broken. his thighs slap against the bed. you can hear it—how soaked the fabric is, how wrecked his cock sounds sliding through it. he’s panting like he’s been going at it for way too long.

"smells like you. smells so fuckin’ good, i’m—i’m gonna fuckin’ cum if you keep—if you keep textin’ me like that, sendin’ those photos, you know what you’re doin’, you knew i’d lose it—"

a sharp whimper breaks out of him. you can picture it now—his face buried in your hoodie, back arched, grinding into the bundle like it’s your cunt. there’s a wet squelch as his cock presses harder into the soaked fabric, and he gasps.

"fuck—fuckfuckfuck, m’so close—feels like you, swear it does, i wanna be inside you so bad, wanna cum all over your tummy, your thighs, i’d do anything—anything for you right now, please let me—"

he’s babbling. incoherent, breathless, just gone. it’s all instinct now. his hips stutter. he whines deep in his throat, broken and needy.

"m’gonna cum, baby—m’gonna—fuck, i love you, i fuckin’ love you—"

and then he cums. hard. you can hear it—the wet drag, his breath catching, the soft curse that falls from his lips like a cry. the hoodie muffles his voice as he groans into it, hips grinding down even as he finishes, desperate for just a second longer of that feeling.

he’s quiet after. just breathing. you hear the faint squish of the fabric soaked through. his voice, low and trembling, slips out like he forgot the mic was still on:

"fuck… i need you so bad."

then the audio ends.

a/n: 😛

find my masterlist here

🏷 @owensbabygirl @sturniolohohoho @drewswife @megameatymatt @cayleeuhithinknott @courta13 @overlygoin @httpssturns @sweeethrt @ariheartsmatt @k4urltzx @briizysturn @y2kstarr @chriscantwhisper @tezzzzzzzz @adorechris @dolliraez @rriverscuomo @sturnsblogs @mattspillowprincess @mattsplaything @sturns-mermaid @auttysturnz @sonnyangelsweetiee @izzylovesmatt @ribbonlovergirl @k4urltzx @matts-girlfriend @pair-of-pantaloons @444sturns @weron1ka @grrrrcherries  @matts-wife @thicknick19 @slvtf0rchr1s @devotedlyteenagemusic @adoremattsturns @slut4chrisloads @lyingbymalcom @sturniolo1trips @chrissbxby @alexisa78

© zenithsturniolo

[yuesya]

“Who’s that?”

Itadori Yuji likes to think that he’s been a student at Tokyo Jujutsu High long enough that he recognizes everyone’s faces. However, the lady talking to Nanamin right now definitely isn’t someone who Yuji remembers seeing around here before.

The white-haired lady shifts, and turns. One of her eyes is fully covered by cloth wrappings like an eyepatch, and her other eye is blue. A weird sort of blue, even. It sort of reminds Yuji of–

“That’s Gojo Shiki,” Fushiguro says, reaching out a hand and forcibly turning Yuji’s head around so he isn’t craning his neck curiously to get a better look at the strange lady. “Stop staring at her already, Gojo-sensei isn’t around right now, and he’s probably the only one who can stop her if she decides that she wants to slice you into pieces.”

“Eh?” Yuji blinks rapidly. Slice him into pieces? Just for staring? That’s kind of an extreme overreaction, isn’t it?

Actually, hold up a minute.

‘Gojo Shiki,’ Fushiguro had called her. Like Gojo-sensei’s ‘Gojo?’ Then does that mean, “She’s related to Gojo-sensei?”

“Yeah. They’re cousins from the same clan.” Ooh, that explains it! This lady shares the same unique coloring as Gojo-sensei. White hair, blue eyes… err, eye? … Yuji wasn’t sure what was under her eyepatch, but maybe she’s just like Gojo-sensei in this respect, too. Except instead of keeping both eyes covered, this Gojo lady prefers to only cover just one eye instead.

Despite telling Yuji not to stare at the lady, Fushiguro himself casts another glance in her direction, before continuing to tug Yuji away in the opposite direction.

“Shouldn’t we at least say hi, or something?” Yuji asks in confusion.

“Did you not hear what I just said about getting sliced into pieces?” Fushiguro clicks his tongue.

Oh yeah, he did say that. “You mean that wasn’t a joke?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Fushiguro looks like he’s annoyed, actually. Probably not the best time to mention that right now, though. “Even though she and Gojo-sensei are relatives, they don’t always get along with each other. Gojo-sensei hasn’t said anything about her coming around to the Tokyo school; if she’s here because of the higher ups for Sukuna, then that means–”

Fushiguro cuts himself off mid-sentence.

In front of them, Gojo Shiki lands lightly on the ground, in a way that’s almost as if she descended from the sky out of nowhere. Up close, there’s really no denying that familial resemblance to Gojo-sensei. But at the same time, there’s no hint of easygoing cheer to be found anywhere in her expression at all. Unlike Gojo-sensei who’s all smiles, Gojo Shiki has a sort of stern coldness to her.

The woman’s sole eerie blue eye skims over Fushiguro and lands on Yuji. Unbidden, a chill runs down the length of Yuji’s spine.

“So this is that whimsical fool’s latest project, hm?”

[hijinks-n-lowjinks]

second teaser for the final chapter of my itafushi fic and i’ve been tryin’ not to feel it

[homosekularnost]

peace and love on planet earth preservation station

(scene from I WANT IT ALL by FlipSpring)

[depraveddame]

The last chapter of Planetesimals, part three of my professor AU Come Slowly, Eden, has been posted, and for now that marks this series as complete ✨

I’m deeply emotional about this. I wrote the majority of A Great Conjunction in two days last April and this AU immediately came to mean so much to me on so many levels. The response to this series has been so remarkable and generous and loving, and I can’t ever thank everyone enough for welcoming Professor Fell and his bratty darling student Anthony so warmly, and with such enthusiasm.

This last chapter of Planetesimals, like the other chapters, was originally a thread on Twitter I wrote last June, and I’m so happy I finally got around to editing and extending it a bit.

CWs: D/s, Dom Aziraphale, sub Crowley, brat Crowley, brat tamer Aziraphale, slight predator/prey, knife play (with a full edged letter opener), rough sex, chasing, ripped clothing, dirty talk, praise/degradation, manhandling, Daddy kink, sex against a wall and bent over stairs

Excerpt:

He smirks as Fell keeps walking, “you may be faster than me, yes, that’s true— but you know that once I find you, my bratty little demon, you’ll be reminded of how much stronger I am, and perhaps you’ll think twice about shoving me like a petulant—”

SLAM.

As Fell descends from the last step, Crowley lunges and slams him into the wall with whatever strength he has, he digs the heels of his hands into his professor’s bare shoulders and pins him there as best he can, their noses touching as their hips forcefully collide.

“Am I living up to your brat tamer expectations, Daddy?” Crowley tries to drawl, even aiming for a bit of sneer, but he kicks himself as his tone falters into something breathy by the end of that question when the glint of steel he can make out in the dim light flicks down to his mouth.

Fell says nothing at first, and he’s not touching Crowley at all, who is sure he’s merely being allowed to hold him against the wall like this, but then there’s a nearly inaudible, crackling purr against Crowley’s mouth that’s deliciously menacing:

“Exceeding them.”

[wykart]

I LOST the asset on SOLO MISSION in ABANDONED LAB! (I Died?!)

Verbena's final livestream, in which she misplaces company property and goes out guns blazing.

[rosietrace]

『 “All eyes on you” 』

| Aldrich Edelweiss and Victoria Shard | 🗡️ + 🪞 |

✎ᝰ. synopsis : “I love you the first time, I love you the last time— Yo soy la princesa, comprende mis white lines.”

✎ᝰ. content warnings : aldrich himself, dark romance, stalking (from both parties), allusions to murder

✎ᝰ. genre : romance of the dark variety, fluff but in a messed up way, oc x oc

( ˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥) a/n : As the president and only member of the Aldrich Edelweiss fanclub, I miss writing for his silly demented ass 😔 so I hope Revington is able to enjoy this piece, even through the potential ooc moments, just as it had been an enjoyable (yet tortuous) process writing it 🥰

✎ᝰ. : reblogs > likes

Aldrich found entertainment in a great, many ways. A more recent one came in staring at a respectable distance— close enough to see her, far enough to not be deemed conspicuous.

Marvelous, he thought behind one of the trees of Pomefiore’s forests, having slaughtered every woodland critter who'd tried making his presence known to her. Absolutely marvelous.

Over the past week, Victoria Shard had caught the attention of Aldrich Edelweiss; prince of Edelweiss, and leader of his troop of witch hunters.

Aldrich couldn't recall when this fascination with her began, but the prince couldn't be bothered to retrace his footsteps as to when it had happened— his focus remained on her, her and her alone.

He quietly sighed, blissful and dreamy at the sight of her. Sat atop a rock, humoring the desires of the woodland critters fortunate enough to encounter her, and not him.

Her movements were poised, precise. As swift as a blade slicing through to the apex of the heart, and aiming as true as any arrow. Akin to a princess, Aldrich thought with eerie satisfaction.

“So, so beautiful... so perfect...” he complimented her in a hushed voice, his canines digging into the flesh of his bottom lip, and yet he didn't care.

Inevitably, his lips bled the longer his teeth stabbed into its flesh. And as his blood slowly slipped down from his chin and onto the grass below his feet— finally, Victoria felt the ever-distant feeling that she was being watched.

A rabbit laid asleep on her lap, its snow white fur gently caressed in between the fingers that combed through it. “How sweet…”

“Although, I have this feeling,” Victoria said, her free hand below the chin of a doe, as if expecting it to react or reply to her observation. “Am I being watched? Or have I truly come to my wit's end?”

Aldrich felt the hitch of his breath against his throat, one foot taking a step back. Should he dare approach? Profess his loyalties and all that he desired unto her?

Or would he remain a twisted, broken-minded coward — whether he acknowledged that as fact or not — and flee like a stray?

He fled. Of course he did, it was his only option left on the table. The last time an encounter in the forest happened between him and his savior, she'd threatened him; used her magic against him while he'd been vulnerable, without a knife strapped to his side.

It was the most gorgeous sight; the way the sun’s bright fixtures illuminated her at her back, looming over him as though she were a goddess reborn. A saint exempting him from the land of promise to repent for his sins.

He'd wanted to kill her, then. Strangled her throat until her face was comparable to the purple of her hair, until her eyes ceased to open again, and until he could cut out her heart and display it in his room for only him to see.

Since then, he'd dreamed again, and again. Of her. In the good dreams, he'd hunted her down like a starved cat on a search for its next meal.

In the bad dreams, he embraced her and never wanted to let go; her fingers in his hair, her lips against his, their arms wrapped eternally around each other.

In the far off distance from where Victoria stood, her words somehow echoed throughout the forest— reaching far enough for him to hear her and the melodious song her voice had elicited.

“Strange… ever strange, indeed.”

“He's looking… again.”

“Pay no mind to him,” said Victoria to Zenith, the former appetizing on a box of dark chocolate brownies as her dessert. “I can assure you, he isn't of your concern.”

But Zen was not so easily convinced. “Sure he isn't.”

“He is of little importance, Zen.”

“Yeah, well, important or not, I am not enjoying the way he's looking at you.”

Victoria sighed. “... You want me to send Mephisto after him, don't you?”

Now that got Zen to grin a little more than before. Maybe, his eyes suggested, filled with mischief and a need for entertainment.

“No.”

“What? Why not??”

“Aldrich isn't a threat.”

“Aldrich Edelweiss. Not a threat.” He looked like he could burst into laughter any minute now after a statement like that. “Very funny, Tori.”

Victoria deadpanned. “He isn't.”

But it isn't looking like he's going to relent, she thought with a tiny and barely concealed frown as she assessed Zen and his expressions.

Mephisto— Victoria's loyal, obedient, little corvid she'd inherited from her late grandmother — was exclusive to keeping an eye on those Victoria personally deemed a threat.

To her, Aldrich didn't qualify as one. He checked off some boxes, sure, but a threat? That's the last thing Victoria would ever call him.

But Zen was relentless. After this, she knew he'd continue to pester and convince her into spying on Aldrich through Mephisto— a nice sentiment on his end, but one she'd consider inconvenient.

Inconvenience, however, wasn't enough to stop a sigh from escaping her lips at what she was to say next.

“... I'll see what I can do about Mephisto.”

Zen smiled. Satisfied, she'd call the expression, and before she could mumble at how he wouldn't allow a no out of her, he pulled her in for a hug.

“Good to know, Tori,” Zen murmured in relief.

And that was enough to prevent her from getting any more annoyed than she already was.

This damn bird, Aldrich thought to himself the more it became clear that Mephisto just wouldn't leave him alone.

For the past four weeks, he hadn't been able to get even a fraction close enough to where he wanted to be— to keep his sights on Victoria was a form of entertainment as much as it was a twisted show of his devotion, and he couldn't even have that.

His patience thinned, as did his sanity. Clueless to who the crow that's been stalking him like a circling vulture waiting to take whatever's left, Aldrich had taken a few extra measures into making sure it stopped following him.

He'd shot arrows, dabbled in throwing his blades right at the damn creature, hoping that one of them could land a hit.

But it wouldn't let up, always somehow returning to him unscathed when he'd been so sure that he'd targeted them dead more than once.

The damn bird even stole his prized dagger right out of his grasp. And every night since, he dreamed of cutting it open with that same blade, presenting the contents to his savior as a sacrifice worthily presented.

He found solace tonight, knowing that Mephisto was seemingly nowhere as he watched Victoria. At first he found it odd, considering a forest deep into the long hours of midnight would be an almost perfect location for a crow to lurk and sneer.

Aldrich Edelweiss, however, hadn't bothered to care too much about it. Not while he admired Victoria — a closer distance than they'd usually be — singing a symphony even the coral sea sirens knew never to compete with.

The animals adored her, sitting by her, having the pleasure of having their head on her lap with their fur combed through by her fingers.

His hand twitched, a wave of longing crashing over him as it always did; the temptations of reaching out and having the attention of all those fur-faced and like-minded winged creatures taken away and directed unto him.

His compromise was a quiet sigh, a hand over his heart. A silent duet they shared, a wordless melody only they knew the lyrics of, even when one didn't notice the presence of the other.

But the sound of a familiar caw brought an end to a moment of entrancing quiet. Bringing Victoria to her feet, and Aldrich with his guard up, bow and arrow in hand and a quiver strapped to his back.

This time, he'd make the shot.

“Mephisto.”

So that was its name. Even so, all too late, Aldrich didn't even process the hand that reached out to the corvid as he fired a single shot.

Just as it was about to pierce through his tormentor, it froze like ice and dropped to the ground. Shattering like broken glass in its place.

The prince's broken, lovesick heart sank at the sight of his savior’s hand reaching out to let his tormentor perch on it like a throne, her fingertips gently caressing the underside of its beak.

“There you are…” Victoria hummed. “I should feed you more, you've been flying slower as of late. Do you think Pallas has any spares left?”

Mephisto gave out another caw straight from its hazardous beak. Victoria frowned. “I forgot to restock. I've been… busy. You know that.”

At long last, Aldrich's heart stopped in its beat. And yet as quickly as he did, Victoria and her corvid’s heads whipped to his direction— staring down at the trees he'd been using to keep cover.

Victoria scrutinized it, her sharp sapphires for eyes suddenly squinting. She scoffed, her soft fingertip tickling Mephisto's beak.

“Go.”

Then and there, Aldrich bolted the opposite direction, racing into the darkness of the forest with no way of knowing where he'd end up— his eardrums ringing in torment, his breathing shallow as he pushed his legs past their limits.

Mephisto followed suit, its crowing mocking at him like laughter. Aldrich shrieked, hands going to the sides of his head to pull at the hairs in hopes that would distract him; little success came of that.

He felt tired. So tired. His chest heaved while his throat burned the longer he ran.

You could imagine the drop of his heart when he — mid-sprint — had all of a sudden, frozen in place. Aldrich's breath finally came to a prolonged, shallow halt.

Her footsteps were so slow and she drew nearer, and nearer. As though she were taunting him, she also took her time in getting closer.

Slowly, treacherous, and calculatingly, she finally reached him; her chest to his back, a shadow towering over his own.

Her arms weaved seamlessly on to his shoulders, a tight hold on them under the impression that if she didn't, he'd run off.

Is this it? Aldrich brought that thought to the forefront. If it were, he supposed it wasn't the worst way to die.

To die by the hands of his savior was better than to die dishonorably by a heretic. But she'd once been that for him, too.

“Kill me,” Aldrich demanded in a soft, tight voice. He clenched his fists at his sides and closed his eyes shut. “Kill me, if you must.”

“I don't plan on killing you, anytime soon.”

Her grip loosened. And with it, her melodious voice went lower in its octave, barely counting as a whisper with each word she spoke.

“I know you've been watching me, Edelweiss.”

The dagger Mephisto had stolen away from him returned to him, at long last. Slowly, Victoria gave a sideways glance to Aldrich while he remained in her grasp with his dagger back in its sheath.

Aldrich shuddered under her grasp— not from her admission, nor from the familiarity of his dagger back in his possession, but the feeling of her breath against the shell of his ear. “I—”

“You don't need to explain yourself for me,” said Victoria. “I'd be a hypocrite if I judged you for it.”

Her hand gently caressed his jaw, adjusting it until his eyes met hers right above. She towered over him, a titaness overcasting him— an undeserving mortal.

She smiled wryly, as though the dazed look in the prince's eyes were humorous. She turned him on his heel and pinned him to a tree, one hand right over his head.

A sight so beautiful it made him want to reach out in ways he'd never even think of doing leading up to this.

In a flash, her eyes broke their gaze with his and looked above at Mephisto circling them from above. “If you must know…”

“... I've been having a certain bird, a confidant if you want to call it that, keep tabs on you for the past… what was it, four weeks?”

At the sudden question, Aldrich nodded rapidly. He couldn't get a word out; that, on its own, was worth his own shock.

“... Why?” His voice was soft, too soft. From one moment to the next, his gaze shifted between meeting her cold gaze and the soft lips mere inches away from his face.

“Why?...” It disappointed Aldrich to see her pull back from the question. He'd expected many things to happen next, not a single one of them equating to an unnatural chorus of laughter.

Her cackles echoed about the forest. Maybe it scared the animals that treated her like a princess, or maybe it didn't. He didn't know.

And he didn't want to care.

“Let's just say a friend saw you as a threat, and I humored them by keeping Mephisto's eyes on you.” Thinking over it, Victoria shook her head. “In retrospect, I can understand the uncomfortable undertones of stalking someone, even if they were watching you back.”

“Admittedly, however… you've instead brought on an interest for me to take apart until every meticulous detail is truly understood.”

“... I do not quite follow.” He did. He absolutely did, and it thrilled him more than it should have, and he wanted nothing more but to hear it from her lips.

Victoria could read that bluff from a mile away. Why she didn't address that, Aldrich didn't understand. He much rather focused on what she said next.

“What I mean… is that I find you interesting, your highness.” Your highness, a silent scoff left her. Unfit for a man so cruel, and twisted. And yet…

“You're a twisted, broken mess. One doomed of disrepair with no one befitting enough of your standards to give you peace.”

The words pierced at his heart. But then… “Unfortunately, I suppose I am equally irredeemable.”

One hand, the one that wasn't resting above his head, intertwined with the limp hand hanging by his side. She smiled at him, and for once, he knew it was sincere.

His eyes flickered from different directions, all trying to pull at his puppet strings and direct his attention onto them.

The moonless sky, the stars that danced over it.

The shadow it cast over Victoria's form; her eyes, sapphires deeper than the abyss of the first water, shining brighter than starlight.

He only had one thought, then. Beautiful as the moon.

A moon that wasn't there to guard either of them. And never will.

“Because a part of me is as cruel, and broken, and imperfect as you are. And if you'll have me… we can both be broken together.”

【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of OC appearances/mentions

Aldrich Edelweiss – @revivemyreverie · @revolllutionary

Victoria Shard – Me 😈

Zenith Devi – Also Me 😈

Mephisto – Also (2) Me 😈

@starry-night-rose | @jasdiary | @authoruio | @fumikomiyasaki | @nem0-nee | @sakuramidnight15 | @hallowed-delights · @terrovaniadorm | @twsted-princess | @geminiiviolets | @lueerhythm | @valse-a-mille-temps

[mythrilpencil]

This is something of a prequel/backstory scene for the story I’m working on, of which Rage Against the Void is a part of.

Word Count: 763

CW: guns, war allusions

Backup

———

Zenith led his unit through a jungle of rubble. This part of the city had already been evacuated months ago, and any remnants of what businesses used to thrive here had long since been shattered by the ongoing war.

“Wasn’t the SOS ping sent from somewhere in this sector?” one of the androids in Zenith’s unit—a bulky assault model named Hammer—asked as they propped up a fallen support beam for the rest of the unit to cross under. “Who’d really set up shop clear out here?”

“There’s still the fusion plant a few blocks down,” Zenith reminded them with a nod that direction, “Independents wanted to get it back up and running but riots started giving them trouble.”

Hammer huffed and shrugged a shoulder, their thick armor plates shuffling into place. “Still not a very viable location, if you ask me.”

Zenith tipped his head in a shrug as he looked around. “Could be worse,” he supposed, “Could be—”

A loud clatter of metal and concrete rubble interrupted him. He and Hammer spun around at full alert, sensors primed for any threat. But it was just the trainee.

Well, “trainee” was a strong word. The android currently sliding a small avalanche of debris, Edge, was more a supplement to the unit than anything. He was a new model, with a lithe frame that emulated the build of a young human adult. Despite his records only placing him at 5 years of age, his deep maroon armor had all the wear of a veterans’. And scrambling up the rubble wasn’t helping the wear and tear.

Zenith sighed to himself. He’d have to give the kid a talk about proper armor maintenance when they got back to base. “Edge!” he called out to him, “What are you doing?“

Edge spun his head around to look at Zenith, bright green eyes cutting through the night’s gloom. He blinked, then looked back up at the collapsed garage he was still attempting to scale without another word.

Zenith ordered, “Edge! Get down from there; we’re going this way,” and waved a hand towards the path Hammer was holding the way open to. 

“I’m picking something up over here,” Edge objected, finally pulling himself up over the lip of the nearest overhang. 

“Picking what up?” Zenith frowned. “Edge, if you’re detecting a signal, you’re supposed to let us know, remember?”

“It’s not super strong; might be nothing.”

“Whatever it is, tell us so we can back you up—”

“No I got this; you guys go on ahead,” Edge insisted, disappearing over the ledge, “I’ll catch up to you.”

Zenith sighed roughly, expression flattening, then glanced back at Hammer and the two others in his unit. Hammer, meeting his glance, rolled their eyes and set the support beam they’d been propping up down. Then they and the other two followed Zenith as he leapt up the rubble after Edge.

~~~

They caught up with the young android just in time. Edge had found his way into a pocket in the depths of a collapsed skyscraper. Plasma fire shot through the air. The kid had found his way into trouble.

Edge staggered back, surrounded by drones opening fire. To his credit, he dodged a good amount of their fire and returned with his own from his pistols. But stray plasma fire caught his feet and he tripped over a canister. 

Zenith charged in. He yanked Edge back by his shoulder and shoved his other arm forward. His energy shield shot out from his forearm just as a stray shot hit the canister.

The canister exploded, concentrated ether reacting with the air with the wrath of an angry blue sun. But Zenith’s shield held it all back.

Edge shouted and flinched. But then he opened his eyes, transfixed by the angry ether fighting against Zenith’s shield. 

“Wh—”

Zenith cut him off with a hand under his arm, pulling him to his feet. “And that’s why you always need backup,” he grunted. The concentrated ether wisps dissipated, and Zenith waved his free hand to signal at the others.

Edge blinked when Hammer and the other two made their charge. He readied his own pistols in response, but his eyes were still wide and inexperienced. “I—I thought you guys would have gone ahead—”

“I know you’re not used to working in a unit,” Zenith told him as he shrunk his shield, “But that’s not how things work in one. When you’re in a unit, you back each other up. No one goes alone. Got it?”

“I—”

Zenith met his eyes.

“Got it.”

———

For this week’s prompt courtesy of @flashfictionfridayofficial!

Tagging: @jacqueswriteblrlibrary

[s12-kittie]

A lil worldbuilding headcanon

During the events of s1 and the events of the prequel of my fic (the one about Jade, I mean, bc there's another one which doesn't relate much to this post), the Magical Dimension has made an epic tech progress.

So on year 2004:

Internet works slowly

The only options of the phone are texting, calling, maybe watching a TV channel/listening to the radio

Each planet has its own Internet web which is not connected to any others

But on the years 2005-2006 scientists from Zenith invent an interplanetary connection, which leads to the appearance of Maginet (Magiweb), and so

The connection becomes much faster

The first social media start to appear

More and more jobs start opening websites

Well, everything becomes as we know it today (except AI bc screw AI)

And now imagine. The Trix attend Cloud Tower somewhere since 2001-2002 and till 2004, and then they're being isolated from the outer world (first the Light Rock monastery then Darkar's undergroud castle, then Valtor's hideouts), and when they settle down near Magix at the end of the book 1, they're like "what the heck 0_0"

And I just can't help but see the scene:

Icy, walking in circles: seriously??? Back when we studied at Cloud Tower, if we needed some illegal potion we would make it! And nowadays kids just order it online?! This is just humiliating, if you can't make a potion, then you're not a witch you're nothing! How does Griffin even put up with that?? This is pure disrespect of all the principles the witches ever had!

Darcy, in a low voice: she sounds like an old hag

Stormy: tell me about it

Icy: WHAT DID YOU JUST-

Darcy and Stormy: NOTHING

[stardusthuntress]

Fanboy

Rex x femaleMandoMedic!reader 

Word Count: ~5.7k (I cannot write shorter fics than that anymore, so have a long one) 

Special thanks to @mybrainislostinagalaxyfarfaraway for the inspiration for this one! Link to original post idea, below (but the original idea post and the tumble of the person who posted it seem to have vanished - if you can, please help me find them and tag them and repair my tags and links)! FYI, I did modify the original prompt slightly, but OP approved of the change before I even wrote it, so we are all good! Sorry it took me so long! 

Summary: He’s a fan of your erotica work - he has no idea you write it, and you have no idea he reads it, and yet you work side by side every day! This part ends before the smut so other writers can dream up their own scenarios with details relevant to their works! 

TW: reader writes smutty fics while living onboard the Resolute. Reader has own room (no roomies). Reader has okay relations with family, but not great ones, prefers distance from them. 

Mando’a: Ner = my Mesh’la = beautiful Verd = warrior Shebs = butt/ass 

Other SW Terms: Kark/kriff = both common expletives used in place of “shit” or “fuck” or “damn” Dank ferrik = commom expletive used in place of “oh shit” or “damn it” 

*************************************************

Slowly, the harmless acronyms of your secret writing world began to permeate your everyday war-focused acronyms. 

Memos telling your troopers to keep things G-rated around children became “and remember, anything NSFW that isn’t a part of your standard kit stays on the ship, today’s mission is protecting a large town with lots of families so keep it clean for the kiddos, please!” 

the typical “IP” note to Captain Rex turned into “WIP” when you were tired. He never questioned it, so you assumed it must be commonplace for others to use too. 

Rex never told you where he learned it. He couldn’t! It wasn’t the sort of thing a Captain, of all people, went and told everyone. Ranking officers had a reputation to uphold. Their men looked up to them, especially bright-eyed young shinies who’d yet to be introduced to galactic nightlife. 

And yet, somehow, it was the thing that kept him sane while fighting a war. The thing that reminded him that not everyone in the galaxy was out to get them. The thing that reminded him that the galaxy was worth saving because it was filled with beautiful moments and not just the pain of war. 

The horrors of war had long since left a deep scar in the Captain’s mind, but it was a price he was willing to accept to protect the galaxy. And no matter how hard the worst days became, he would always go back to reading stories about the most beautiful aspect of the people he fought so hard to protect: the way they made love. Besides, reading about making love instead of war every night was the only thing that let him find his way to sleep. War was beyond brutal. 

Rex had long since accepted that very few people would be willing to be partners with a man who did not know if he would live to see the next sunrise. He himself spent every day facing the fact that each battlefield could be his last. And even if it wasn’t, the loss and heart-wrenching difficulties of war had a tendency to leave him as a different man at the end of each one. So, if he couldn’t have a partner in real life with which to share the difficulties, and do all the small, mundane, domestic things, just like the rest of the galaxy, and share the joys of sensual love, then no one could stop him from dreaming about it. And that gave him hope. And hope was an essential part of continuing on in war. 

But he had decided long ago, when he became a Captain, that he would never tell a soul about this. It was his little secret thing. Besides, if his troopers ever did find out, he’d never hear the end of it. 

If Fives ever found out… Rex didn’t want to think about it. This was Rex’s special, secret. And he loved it. 

He always did everything in his power to keep it out of his troopers' hands, and far away from the battlefield. 

And now, now that the post-battle reports were almost done, he could start to let himself think about it a little bit. 

*************************************************

Tonight your goal had been to finish the last WIP you’d started months ago when inspiration had hit between grueling battles. And tonight, you’d succeeded. You proofed the polished piece one last time, took a deep breath, and tapped “post”. 

As you sat back in your seat, a call from Rex came in on your comm, making you nervous you’d posted it somewhere the rest of the ship could see it. 

“Lieutenant, can I get the list of the soldiers your shift deemed medically cleared for duty from you? I’m wrapping up reports, and that’s the last piece of data I need.” Rex’s voice showed no hint of anything other than the same post-battle paperwork as usual, and you loosed a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. 

Beside him, his personal datapad beeped and lit up, a banner across the screen notified him that his favorite author had just posted a new work! Rex couldn’t wait to get to it when these last few reports were done. 

“Sure thing, Captain! I take it Kix forgot to send it again.” The normalcy in your voice surprised even yourself. 

“You know Kix, but he keeps everyone on their feet, so I don’t mind having to ask for them. Besides, it’s handy to have you onboard. You have all the same medical clearances he does, and you’re much more fun to talk to.” Rex finished. The exhaustion and potential to read a NSFW story tonight seemed to be making Rex bold, even to his inner dialog. Where normally he’d be all business, tonight he was opening up a little, dare he even consider it flirtatious?  

The voice on the other end of the phone laughed. “That’s sweet of you! But don’t tell Kix you said that, Captain!” 

Rex laughed, “Oh, don’t worry, I think they all know. Everyone enjoys your company in a sea full of identical faces.” 

“Haha, well I hope being one of the few different faces isn’t the only thing I have going for me!” 

“Certainly not! Like I said, you’re fun to talk to, Sweetheart.” Rex felt the heat rising in his neck, he didn’t usually let himself call you Sweetheart so openly like that… what had become of his filter tonight? 

Rex’s work datapad beeped with a new notification, both of which were audible over the comms, but he didn’t know that. “Thanks for the reports! Talk more tomorrow,” Rex yawned. 

You snickered, suppressing a yawn of your own, and wished him goodnight. 

Rex glanced over the list of names, clicked approve, attached it to his last report and submitted it. 

Finally, Rex had time for himself, time to read his favorite author’s new piece! 

Rex wondered who the mystery author was, no one used their actual names on this site, that’s what made Rex comfortable with using it. There was no way to trace it back to him, except through his personal datapad, so he felt comfortable using it on a republic ship. Besides, he knew there were much weirder things getting pulled up on republic ships, war was rough after all, and he wasn’t about to judge anyone for however they decided to cope with it. 

So, Rex settled in for the night, your cheerful voice on his mind, and decided he needed to picture this new scenario in your voice, with you attached. No matter how risqué that seemed, something about it filled a need for him. There had always been something about you that attracted Rex, though he couldn’t put his finger on what specifically. But that didn’t exactly matter. What did matter was that he finally had someone real who made him feel like he wanted the scenarios he always read about. You! 

The comm next to him beeped again. Rex sighed and looked at it. Speaking of, it was you, again! 

Rex got nervous. “Everything ok, Sweetheart?” He asked hesitantly, and didn’t even notice he had once again used his internal pet name for you. 

Suddenly you were glad you were just on comms and he couldn’t see you, it was hard not to smile when he called you that, and he always did it after particularly grueling battles, like this one. And this was the second time this evening!

“I can’t find my blaster cleaning kit. Did I leave it with you earlier when I dropped off the General’s saber after the battle?” 

Rex silently breathed a sigh of relief and looked around the room. 

Sure enough, there it was! 

“Yup, I have it right here. Want me to bring it to you this time?” he asked. 

“Na, I need to get up and stretch a bit anyways, been sitting at my desk too long. I’ll be by in a minute… if that’s okay?” 

“Sure thing, see you in a minute!” Rex took a deep breath and looked around the room. He could feel the warmth rising in his face. Why had he just agreed to that? He was all disheveled from a post-battle shower, his personal datapad was still right there with the new fic he was starting to read pulled up, and he had nothing to do until you came by. Not to mention that he’d just been thinking about you… sexually… he knew you couldn’t read his mind, but he still felt guilty about it. 

A quiet knock on his door pulled him out of his reverie. Kark! That was fast! Rex shoved his personal datapad under the pillow of the makeshift bunk he sometimes used for a nap in this closet of a space Skywalker and Kenobi had set aside for him. Then he straightened his blacks, scooped up the item you had asked about, and opened the door. 

“Hi, thanks, Rex! Sorry, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything!” 

Rex found himself a little extra flustered when he opened the door to find you standing in your nightclothes - a slightly too large shirt you’d cut the neck out of, and shorts. Probably more of you than he’d ever seen exposed before. He hoped he was the only man who’d see you like this tonight… or any night for that matter. 

“Na, you’re fine I was just…. Uh… reading… before I turn in for the night.” His flustered brain was doing anything except being useful, of course. The one thing he’d been trying to avoid talking about was what he’d just been reading, why did he have to say that? 

“Ooo! I like to read! May I ask what you were reading?” 

“Uh…” Rex couldn’t say no, so he tried to think fast, “Just something new from my favorite author.” 

“Oh! What author?” 

Kriff! He hadn’t thought about that question coming next, but in hindsight, he should have. It’s the obvious follow-up question. 

“Oh, not books, just, uh… short stories!” Rex was proud of himself, this was going OK! Which is to say: better than he’d expected. Was that too low of a bar to set for himself, or too high? 

“Ah, cool! Well, I love to read, but I don’t often have much time anymore either, if you find any good short stories, let me know! I’m curious to know what a strong leader like you likes to read in his downtime!” 

Aaaaaand there went his good luck. The bar was indeed too high. Rex felt the warning lights going off in his own mind, warning him of an imminent crash if this conversation continued. Much to his dismay, he did like talking with you. 

Rex laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, eyes drifting to the floor. “Sure thing!” He lied, and faked a yawn, “but for tonight, I think it’s time for bed for us both! It was a long day, I’ll see you in the morning, Lieutenant.” 

You smiled, nodded, and headed off down the hallway, back to your quarters. 

Rex closed the door and sighed. That was close. Too close. He hoped he hadn’t given anything away. Maybe he should start to think up excuses for when you inevitably ask about what he was reading… but for tonight, there was still a whole fic waiting to be read! 

*************************************************

The next morning, Rex made a point to check in on the medbay patients while you’re on shift. 

He hadn’t told you, or anyone really, but he always planned it that way. He liked to drop by the medbay when you were around. So far, he’d managed to keep it off his brother’s radar and make it appear somewhat random. He just hoped he could keep that up for a while longer. 

“You mentioned that you were up late working on something when we spoke last night,” Rex commented, somewhat worried about you. “I thought you’d finished all your reports and sent them in already, hours before. I hadn’t seen any more come through the pipeline that late in the evening, nor this morning. Did I miss anything, Lieutenant?” 

“Oh! No, you didn’t miss anything. It was just, uh… some personal things. That’s all! Nothing to worry about, Captain!” Your cheeks felt warm. Hopefully, Rex wouldn’t figure out that he was the cause of your suddenly shy demeanor! There was no way he knew he was on your mind when you were writing last night, could he? Wait, how could he, he didn’t even know you wrote things like that! Probably for the best, you didn’t want to imagine how sorry he’d feel for you to know that was how you were satisfying your cravings for lust these days. Then again, this was war. Maybe it wasn’t so unusual on a ship packed full of men with no relief, no break, no love in sight for weeks, months, years even sometimes. But something told you there were only 2 potential reactions to him finding that out about you: awkward curiosity or disappointment, and you didn’t know which was worse. 

“Well, if you need time off to focus on family or friends, I want to make sure you don’t feel bad asking for it. You know I’d grant it. You’re a civilian. I know you need breaks to attend to things at home.” Rex assured you. 

“Thanks, but I don’t need time off. I’m actually grateful to have time away from them. Family is family, but being around them wasn’t helping me figure out who I am. I like being farther away from them, if I’m being honest. Allows me to just be…” your voice trails off for a moment, but your mind returns to his comment. “I was just working on some of the things I enjoy in my downtime. It’s nice to have time for those sorts of things, don’t you think?” 

“Couldn’t agree more. But now I’m curious,” Rex smirks, intrigued but doing his best to keep the comments light and appropriate for a medbay check-in, “What sorts of fun things occupy your time when these rowdy troopers aren’t flirting with you all day?” he gestures to the men in the bunks lining the walls as he refers to them. “What does your mind need to do to slow down and relax after a grueling battle?” Rex’s eyes are beginning to hint at something on the edge of flirtation, but it couldn’t be… could it? Rex isn’t the type to break his Captain’s demeanor to flirt. Your mind races away into the star-streaked black of hyperspace, too many thoughts flashing by for you to grasp at any one at a time. 

Rex nudges you with his shoulder, a raised eyebrow bringing you back to reality. 

“Uh, not that different from you, actually, it seems. Reading, writing, music, a good holofilm. An escape from war. Though the company of this war is better than I’d expected,” you teased. 

“Did you say you write?” Rex zeroed in on the one thing you hadn’t mean to let slip. 

“Uh, not that I have much time to write, haven’t really done it in a while, to be honest,” you babbled, lying through your teeth, trying to detract from his interest. 

“That’s too bad,” Rex’s comment paused your ramblings, “I was hoping I’d get a chance to learn more about you, by reading what you write about when you need a break from war.” 

You stared at him for a moment. He was flirting with you… right? Or was he just trying to be nice and befriend the civies on his ship so they would feel comfortable amongst his troops like any good Captain would? It must be the latter, right? Rex didn’t seem the type to flirt this openly… 

“Lieutenant,” Kix called, “I need 50 cc’s of pain reliever, please” 

“Oh, sorry Captain, I have to, uh,” you pointed to Kix, already moving to the supply cabinet for the pain meds. 

Rex just nodded and continued walking around the room, checking in with his men as they recovered. Unknowingly, giving you the chance to steal glances at him as you continued your work healing his men. Meanwhile, he did the same thing from across the room, pretending he was simply keeping an eye out behind him like any good officer would, but anyone who knew him could tell his gaze lingered just a little too long on a certain medic… 

*************************************************

One evening finds you just sitting with Rex, chatting around a campfire for the first watch of the night after a long battle and hearty meal. It’s just the two of you on watch, for this quadrant of troops, soft snores from nearby tents telling how draining this battle was. 

“Rex, when you said you’d like to read what I write…” you find yourself poking around with a stick in the dirt when you say it, watching him out of the corner of your eye. 

Rex sits up a little straighter, nodding encouragingly. 

“Did you mean, whatever I wrote? Like… anything at all? Even if it’s a little… unusual? Or strange compared to a normal book or story?”

“I don’t just read adventure stories, if that’s what you’re getting at?” He asks, head tilted, curiosity piqued. 

There’s no going back now. 

“Well, what if it was… kind of… uh………” of all the times to struggle with words, this sure wasn’t a great moment for that to plague you. 

“Kind of…” you stalled, mentally shuffling through his previous statements about what he liked to read for hints of words you could borrow, trying to avoid the words you didn’t want to say that were the only things actually populating your mind, like vulgar or lewd. “Wait, are you implying the stoic Captain reads romances and poetry in his spare time?” 

“Well…” Rex suddenly can’t hold eye contact with you as he answers, his shyness peaking through, “On occasion, though, I admit it’s not something I read often.” 

“So what does the fearless Captain read in his spare time, then?” 

Now it was Rex’s turn to search for stall tactics. “Uh, well, I don’t often have time to read.” 

“But you were reading just the other night,” you pressed, glad you weren’t the one under scrutiny again, even though it had been your own comment that put you there, you’d gotten too shy to be able to fess up to a man with as strong of a reputation as Rex, even though you knew his kind side. 

“Like I said, short stories,” he filled in, knowing it wouldn't be enough, “adventure, strategy, and I guess some romances too.” He hoped that would be enough. So he turned the table back on you, “But you brought up the topic about things you write. What sort of… unusual?” he quoted your own words back at you. 

Kark, you were in it now. Damn the dark of night for giving you courage to say something in the first place. Though you knew you could just tell Rex you weren’t ready to talk about it after all and he’d let it go, and act like nothing had happened if that was what you wanted. But, if there was anyone who wouldn’t hate you for it, nor treat you like a piece of meat ready for the taking because of it, it was Rex. On the other hand though, if Rex hadn’t really meant that he’d be comfortable reading anything, if he’d meant that he had limits and that was beyond what he normally read, he’d never be able to look you in the eye or sit at the same table or campfire anymore. You weren’t sure you could take that. 

Apparently you stalled too long, and Rex jumped in, words coming out a bit rushed like he was nervous. “You don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t want to. I hope I didn’t make you feel like you should tell me anything. I won’t pry. You seem a bit nervous. I won’t ask any more questions about it, I know how it feels to be stuck trying to figure something out. Let’s give it some time so you can think, yeah? If you want someone to read something, never feel bad asking. I want to be there for you in any way that I can. You are welcome to decline that, or accept it, or pretend it never happened if you like. I just want to encourage you if you need it, or be there for you if you need me.” 

“Thanks, Rex,” you smile at the campfire, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

*************************************************

Days pass, battles take their toll, and once again you find yourself needing to write something… especially after another moment with Rex leaves you a little, well… distracted. So you sit down to write one night, and what comes out surprises even you! 

You write a fic heavily inspired by something that actually happened in battle, without revealing too many details… or so you think… 

The fic depicts a simple damsel saves the knight scenario in a woodland, setting the two characters facing off with a wild animal. All in all, a common trope… and after prepping the fic with all the necessary warnings and notes, you click “post”. 

On the other side of the ship, unbeknownst to you, someone’s personal datapad lights up with a notification of a new post from his favorite author. Having finished his work for the evening and searching for a way to fall asleep in his bunk in his tiny little office space, Rex picks up his datapad and starts to read. 

But something about this fic strikes him as oddly familiar. The Deja vu only growing stronger as he reads on, until Rex’s own past takes the reigns and he’s whisked away into his memories… 

Attempting to sneak up on an enemy outpost, alone, during a critical battle, Rex finds himself alone and face-to-face with an unusually large Nexu. 

He’s pretty sure he’s lunch and this is how it ends. 

Until a jetpack-powered shove from his favorite Mandalorian saves his ass and drops the Nexu down a short cliff that curves away and forces it away from the battleground. 

“Never thought I’d see the day the tough Captain of the legendary boys in blue became the damsel in distress…” you laugh, touching down a few feet away, surprisingly lightly considering your heavy armor kit. 

He chuckles, taking the hand you offer to pull him to his feet. “As great as it was to see a badass woman save my shebs [ass], we still have a battle to win.” 

She can practically hear the smirk he wears beneath his helmet as he nudges her playfully with his arm. 

“Then I’m glad you weren’t some wild animal’s lunch. We’re gonna need you to get through this one, Cap.” 

“Then let’s take this tower offline, ner mesh’la verd [my beautiful warrior]!” As soon as it was out of his mouth he realized his mistake. That nickname for you was something he only ever said in his head, he hadn’t intended to say it out loud to you… or ever, really… so, to cover his mistake, he turned and ran off back into the heat of the battle, both blasters drawn. And you follow. Soon, Rex finds himself in one of his favorite spots, taking down droids, back to back with his favorite Mandalorian warrior… 

That was how the real scenario went. 

Rex knew. He was there! He was the one whose shebs you saved, and the one that slipped and called you ‘his beautiful warrior’! Just like the character in this fic did when a strong beautiful woman saved his ass from a similar creature… 

And it would seem that 1) you wrote this fic, 2) you had not only caught that Rex had called you that, but remembered it all these weeks later, and 3) perhaps were a little aroused by it… considering that you used it in a fic? 

But that had been many, many battles ago! And by the way that things had gone back to normal since then, you still fought every battle you could at his side, he had thought you hadn’t noticed his slip-up! 

Rex scrolls down a ways, skipping ahead to see if this was going in the direction he hoped it was. And sure enough, this scenario was only the beginning, feeding life into the love depicted a few paragraphs down. 

Kriff, if you were gonna write a fic this steamy about a moment like that staying on your mind… maybe he could think about it in that way too? 

Very quickly, this day turns into the best night in a long while as he imagines you and him in place of the lead characters in your fic, learning about your mind and all the things that one little moment makes you want to do with him! Or, at least, given that you chose a moment with him to inspire this fic, he can only hope you want to finish the scenario with him too! 

As he attempts to drift off to sleep, Rex finds himself ecstatic that you are his favorite author.  

The trick is figuring out how to tell you that he loves your work and would like to make your dreams come true… without seeming like a creepy stalker… 

But, if the little moments between the two lead characters continue to be inspired by little moments with Rex, then he needs to tell you the feeling is mutual, or he will lose his chance with you. 

Since he seems to be inspiring several of your fics, the odds must be in his favor. He just has to make a move. Easier said than done… 

So… how does he tell you he’s your biggest fan without making it awkward and weird? 

Maybe if he starts slow? With little things to make sure he’s reading into it correctly (pun intended). 

So, he tries to replicate a look you described as a focused, methodical soldier, who can see right into your soul, because you mentioned that the look, made you shiver because no one had seen you as clearly as he seemed to in that moment.

When he tries it in real life, your eyes widen slightly and you barely suppress a shiver. You have to look away and clear your throat before answering his question. 

He acts like he didn’t spot your reaction (his men don’t need to know). 

And a few days later, during a moment alone with you, he calls you ‘my beautiful warrior’ in Mando’a again, and smiles when you melt into shyness and look pointedly at the floor, trying not to smile. 

But that’s all he gets a chance to say and do before another few particularly rough battles steal your attention from each other back to the life and death of the galaxy you live in. 

*************************************************

It’s a few weeks before you find yourself sitting across another campfire from Rex as the two of you sit on watch for the night, the post-battle rhythm settling back in, and the need for distraction from the last few battles has both your minds drifting towards the sultry and suggestive. 

After you each share a few flirty remarks and laughs as your watch draws on, he decides it’s time he just went for it. 

“Ya know, I’ve been thinking. You asked me what I read in my spare time… and if it’s romance…” Rex picks at a twig on the log he sits on. 

Your gaze moves straight to him, an eager look in your eye. 

Now it’s his turn to get a little shy as he scratches the back of his neck. 

“And to share it with ya if I’d read any good stories, lately…” He tries his hardest to meet your eyes, even just for a few seconds at a time. 

“Yeah?” You prompt him, careful not to tease, but to encourage, though you couldn’t help but sit up straighter, focusing all your attention on him. 

Before Rex can answer, the sound of approaching boots and laughing troopers draws your attention. You glance at your chrono and realize your shift is over, and it’s time for Fives and Echo to take over the watch. 

Rex offers to walk you back to your tent, and you let him. Echo and Fives are too engrossed in their own discussion to notice that you two both seem a little cozy and flustered. 

Once out of earshot of the duo with a nose for trouble, Rex offers to show you his favorite short story he’d found recently. 

It’s hard not to smile when you invite him into your tent while telling him you’d love to read it. 

In the safety of your tent, with the light dim and high above your head so no one can see your shadows, sitting next to you on your cot, he has no reservations about using his personal datapad to access his little secret site. 

And then he hands it to you so you can see his url and that he’s looking at your fic  - the one where you save his ass from getting eaten, and it’s clearly him. 

You stare in awe. 

The url he’s using… you know that url! You’ve seen it in your notifications! He usually only reblogs them, rarely ever commenting, and now that you know the man behind it you know why. He’s shy and reserved! 

And that’s when the fact that he’s just handed you your fic actually settles in. 

You cover your mouth with your free hand as your eyebrows shoot upwards, stunned into silence for a few moments, struggling to find something to say like a fish out of water. 

Rex is watching with rapture as you process it all. 

And not only is this your fic, but it’s the one that you finally let it be totally inspired by clearly identifiable, real life moments that had happened with him, of all people! 

Kark… so thinking no one will know in real life when you’d finally had 20 seconds of courage to post it might have been totally out of line, in hindsight, but dank ferrik, now he knew and it has become his favorite fic? 

“But I —this… my… you’re [jaigB51]? Of course that’s you!” You finally manage, clutching the datapad tightly. 

“That’s me…” Rex is getting shy, so he tries to push past it, “—and [url] is you, right?” He asks, heat rising in his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” you mutter, still stunned, still staring at the little letters at the top of the page, in disbelief that this is really happening. 

You look up at him, lost and awed. 

He only smiles and tugs the datapad from your hands. 

“I’ve noticed that several moments from real life have made it into your fics. Several moments that were just… us… did you mean that you are attracted to me, or just the moments that we shared? Because if it’s not me, I’ll back off and we can pretend this never happened, if you want, if you didn’t mean it like that?” He covers, fiddling with his own fingers as he asks, suddenly struggling to look at your face. 

You scoot closer and take a deep breath, preparing to say it. 

“I like you, Rex. I did it because I like you, not just the moments we shared.” 

Relief washes over Rex as his eyes meet yours again, “I like you too, ner Mesh’la Verd… a lot, if I’m being honest…” 

He opens his arms to you and you throw yours around him. 

This moment has been a long time coming for Rex. He’d figured it out months ago when you’d posted the fic, but he hadn’t had the courage to say anything for weeks. Now that he finally has, and it’s gone so well, all he can do is hold you close and enjoy the warmth of your arms and the feel of your heartbeat against his own. 

”Oh, Rex!” You whisper into his shoulder as you nuzzle in. 

He chuckles faintly, the comforting grip of his arms, unrelenting. “Would I be correct if I guessed that those scenarios were things you wanted to do together then? …like a wishlist of sorts?” He whispers into your temple, hesitantly asking the question that’s been on his mind since he first read the fic. 

You look up at him with excitement. “Yes,” you whisper as though you’re still not sure this is real. 

Rex decides to prove to you it is real, slowly dipping his head to meet your lips. Giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted, but you don’t. You hold fast, and let him approach, even closing your eyes and tilting your head back to give him a better angle, as the distance closes. 

And when he lets his lips touch yours, your hand slips into his buzz cut and he groans against you. 

Finally getting to kiss you was heaven. Rex couldn’t get enough. He kept going back for just one more. 

“Let me make your dreams come true, ner mesh’la verd!” His voice is hushed as he whispers it against your skin, his arms secure and strong as he holds you tightly. 

”Yes, please!” You pant, trying to keep your voice low, aware you are in a tent surrounded by Rex’s brothers who need to look up to their commander without teasing him endlessly about it in the morning. 

”I wish we didn’t have to keep quiet,” he winks at you, well aware you like it when you both make a bit of noise. 

You pause for a moment, “Well, when we were on watch, you did say there was a shuttle full of spare parts and equipment that needed a pilot to bring it back up to the ship. Does it still need a pilot or two? I think my quarters are undamaged, we could slip aboard the ship and have practically the whole thing to ourselves?” 

Rex chuckles against your cheek, checking the ship status on his datapad. “It does still need a pilot. I’ll let Cody know the men on the ground are all his,” he wraps his arms around your waist to scoop up the datapad he’d tossed aside and type out a message as quickly as he can, clicking send without even caring if autocorrect changed anything. “Let’s go, ner Mesh’la Verd!” 

*******************************************

The two of you race over to the temporary shipyard, and inform the night guard you and Rex are going to go ahead and bring the shuttle of damaged equipment back to the ship so it’s ready to go in the morning. And off the two of you go, alone in the shuttle as it rises from the planet’s surface and heads into orbit. 

Rex turns to you and pulls you into his lap. 

You giggle, and kiss his cheek. 

”So,” you ask, intentionally suggestively, “I know you said that one was your favorite, but do you have a favorite scenario from my fics that you want to try first?” You can barely believe this is real and you’re actually getting to ask the man you’ve pictured far too many of your fics with the question you’ve always wanted an answer to. 

Rex smirks, “I like the shower scenarios…” his eyes continue to monitor the ships progress as he maneuvers it towards the Resolute, but his mind is racing with a thousand dirty thoughts. 

“Do I have permission to picture you and I in every one of the stories you’ve written, Sweetheart?” He asks, fervently. 

“Yes!” You answer. 

He is interrupted by the shuttle bay manager checking in as he maneuvers the ship into the hold. 

There is little time to answer as you two disembark the shuttle, exchange nonchalant nods with the hangar bay crew, and make your way through the halls to your personal quarters. 

Finally in your room, Rex smiles, “But I think my favorite of the scenarios you’ve written…” his voice darkens a bit as he steps up to you, his eyes finally reflecting his hunger for you as he begins to remove your armor. “Hmm…” Rex playfully debates which of your fics he’d like to recreate first, letting the anticipation make you a little feisty. 

You lend a hand, removing his armor as he works on yours. 

“I liked the one where you had me kissing up your wrist and arm to your lips, down your neck to your breasts, and then down to your legs and thighs and back up… I admit I reread that one most often… ” He asks, scooping you off your feet, effortlessly. 

As he lifts you with one arm behind your back and one hand raising your thigh to his hip, your legs automatically wrap around his hips. Rex pauses and closes his eyes, swallowing hard, and clutching you to him. 

“Oh?” You tease. 

Rex takes a moment to just try to figure out how to breathe normally again before answering. “What’s your favorite, so far?” He tosses the question back at you, though the rise and fall of his chest is far less collected than his voice. Trying to use his Captain’s skill at hiding any emotion in his voice as a cover when he is actually unraveling quickly. 

You laugh lightly as he reaches the bed, tossing the covers back and climbing in with you still wrapped tightly around him. “I think it’s that one too, actually.” 

Rex smirks and his eyes gleam in the low light of the room, “May I, then?” 

“Why would I ever say no to that?” You laugh, though it fades on your lips as his connect with yours quickly in his hunger. 

“I love knowing what you want already, I have a long list of all the items I want to do with you tonight, ner Mesh’la Verd!” Rex pants against your skin. 

“But… I don’t know what you like, Rex,” Your concern for his own pleasure fills his heart with warmth. If he didn’t already love you, he certainly does now. 

Your legs squeeze more tightly around his waist as his lips trail down your body. 

Rex groans, gripping your thigh. 

“I like…” he pants, “the way your legs grip me.” He licks a stripe across one breast and then the other. 

“I love the way your back arches and you cling to me.” He lightly nips at your abdomen as he moves southward, soothing it with a sensual kiss. 

“I love your little noises. And I’m dying to feel you around my fingers, tongue, and cock. And I like the way your writing describes me as protective when I’m on top like this. And I love being able to read about exactly what you want. And I like the feel of your breasts in my hands and mouth. Kark, I could suck on your breasts all day! And I’d make sure to keep it evenly distributed between both breasts,” he teases, moving up to nip at your ear when he says it. 

“So you noticed that, huh?” You blush, shyly. You weren’t expecting to ever have a partner that had read your fics before. You hadn’t thought about what was usually contained only in your mind and never said out loud when you had been writing. 

He chuckles, “Hard not to notice.” He winks up at you. “Why, is that something you wouldn’t have told me otherwise?” His eyes and tone reflect that teasing, fun side he rarely lets show. 

“Maybe…” you admit as he clutches you tightly to him, pressing every inch of skin that he can against every inch of yours. 

“Then I’m glad I read your fics. I like already knowing what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours as I make love to you.” Rex’s breath is hot on your neck as he begins his open mouthed kisses down your shoulder towards your wrist. 

A shudder racks your body as you realise this might be a long night ahead of you, but it will also be one of the most fun nights in a long time, and with a man worth every second of it all! 

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself! 

Taglist: @cw80831

[zenithsturniolo]

⇢ 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐔𝐓

⚸ p link — ⚸ audio

matt’s forehead’s pressed to yours, curls damp and sticking to his skin, eyes all heavy and dark when he looks at you.

he’s got your thighs pushed up around his hips, hands gripping hard enough to bruise, and his cock is dragging through your folds in slow, teasing glides— barely even thrusting, just pressing in, pulling back, grinding against your clit like he’s trying to make you beg.

“y’feel that?” he mutters, voice low and tight like he’s barely holding back. “how fucking wet you are for me?”

you nod, but it’s not enough.

“say it, baby. tell me who’s making you this wet.”

you’re already breathless, voice catching as you whisper, “you. you, matt— fuck—”

“atta girl. all mine, yeah?” his hips stutter forward, cock sliding right along your clit again, and you arch up, gasping.

“god, i can feel you soaking me,” he groans, pressing you down with one hand when you try to move. “don’t fuckin’ move. pretty little slut.”

you whimper, nails clawing at his arms, and he laughs— a low, breathy sound that’s more wrecked than cocky.

“so desperate,” he murmurs, voice shaking. “fuck— you’re gonna make me cum like this.”

his rhythm starts breaking. less teasing now, more urgent. his cock slips against you again and again, sliding just right, and his breath hitches hard.

“shit— fuck, baby, i’m not gonna last—”

he sounds pissed about it, like he wanted to wreck you first but your pussy’s got him already spiraling. you smile, smug and breathless, and he catches it, groans again.

“don’t—don’t look at me like that,” he growls, hips grinding harder, messier. “fuck, i’m serious, i’ll cum right now—”

“do it,” you whisper, mouth against his jaw. “c’mon, matt. make a mess.”

his whole body jolts like you flipped a switch. his grip tightens on your hips, head dropping to your shoulder as he starts fucking against you— still outside, still humping through your slick, but way rougher now, way closer.

“oh my god— fuckfuckfuck i’m cumming—”

he spills right there, cock twitching between your folds, breath breaking into short, strangled moans as he finishes all over you. it’s hot and desperate and he just melts, hips still grinding slow like he can’t stop even though his arms are shaking from how hard it hit.

you’re both panting when you reach between your bodies and wrap your hand around him, still hard, still leaking.

“inside me,” you say.

he barely lifts his head, eyes half lidded and blown out, mouth parted. “baby— i just—”

you smile, kiss him slow. “you can take it.”

he groans deep in his chest, and then he’s lining himself up, guiding his still sensitive cock to your entrance. he pushes in slow, jaw clenched tight, and the second he bottoms out he gasps— actually gasps, like the overstimulation hit him like a truck.

“oh fuck, oh my god—” he moans, forehead pressing into your shoulder.

his thrusts are shallow at first, trying to hold on, trying to stay in control, but he’s whining with every stroke now, cock twitching inside you like he’s on the edge again already.

“so tight— too much—it’s too fucking much, i can’t—”

“you can,” you breathe, locking your legs around him again. “c’mon, baby, be good for me. give me another one.”

he groans like it hurts, hips jerking forward. “you’re gonna be the death of me,” he says, gravelly and low.

he fucks you slow, but it’s shaky, uneven. like every thrust is pushing him closer to another orgasm he’s not ready for. his moans are softer now, whinier, almost desperate.

“please— baby, please,” he whimpers, face buried in your neck. “i’m gonna cum again, fuck, i can’t stop—”

“don’t stop,” you whisper. “fill me up, matt. i want all of it.”

he lets go completely.

his hips snap forward one last time and he cums again, right inside you this time, moaning your name so loud it makes you clench around him. his whole body’s trembling, arms giving out so he collapses onto you, cock twitching where he’s still buried deep.

you run your fingers through his hair, soothing, and he just lays there. wrecked, whimpering, still breathing hard against your throat.

a/n: ft. top 10 loudest zenith moans. i love being a switch

find my masterlist here

🏷: @thicknick19 @sturnslutz @viviansturns @cayleeuhithinknott @briizysturn @devotedlyteenagemusic @drewswife @sturnsblogs @auttysturnz @mattspillowprincess @adoremattsturns @dolliraez @sturniolo1trips @sturns-mermaid @sophsturns @444sturns @adorechris @rriverscuomo @megameatymatt @izzylovesmatt @y2kstarr @owensbabygirl @courta13 @ribbonlovergirl @passionfruitchris @sophand4n4 @slvtf0rchr1s @matts-wife @slutformatt17 @mattsplaything @slut4chrisloads @ariheartsmatt @surprisecurlyfriess @drewswife @chrismoans

© zenithsturniolo

[yuesya]

Kusakabe sucks in a sharp breath. Faint pinpricks tingle over his body –not fear, exactly, but something close to it.

In front of him, Zenin Naoya sits boredly atop a bloodied, misshapen figure.

And there’s no mistaking the young man’s gesture as one that’s bored. One foot crossed over a knee, chin resting in the palm of his hand while his elbow is propped up on the side… his body language is one that speaks of unmistakable boredom. Dissatisfaction, as well, with a faint trace of irritation.

Around him, the surrounding buildings have been completely leveled to the ground, and there are sharp chunks of ice scattered everywhere. Ice, and copious splatters of blood.

This didn’t make any sense. This didn’t make any sense at all.

Zenin Naoya was supposed to be dead. So how was he here, alive and well? And perched over Fushiguro Megumi’s corpse, no less?

No–

Not corpse.

Beneath him, Fushiguro Megumi is still alive.

A bloodied arm twitches, broken bones snapping back into place while open lacerations slowly begin closing in on themselves, when in the world did Fushiguro learn how to use reverse cursed technique–

The sword in Zenin’s hand stabs down through the healing limb.

“Man, just give up already,” the not-dead man says. “If you can’t even beat me, then what makes you think that you’re going to stand a snowball’s chance in hell against Toji-sama? … Wait, no, Toji-sama is dead in this world, isn’t he? Fuck. Whatever, still doesn’t mean you stand a chance, so you might as well save yourself the struggle.”

… Toji-sama? No wait, that’s not the most important thing here. Why is Zenin Naoya–

“Arrogant sorcerer, I’m going to–”

Zenin Naoya’s sword slices down into Fushiguro’s cheek, silencing his words in a dark splatter of blood and steel. “Yeah, yeah, you’ll kill me and strangle me with my own intestines or something. Good for you. I��d be happy to do the same once, y’know, you get the fuck out of my nephew’s body. Damn, I bet Shiki-sama could just cut you out of him directly…”

Fushiguro… no, there’s no way that’s Fushiguro. Kusakabe recognizes this terrible cursed energy, the same cursed energy that had been released from Itadori during that fateful night in Shibuya.

Itadori Yuji stumbles over from the side, chips of ice crumbling down from his body. “Who’s Shiki?”

“That’s Zenin-sama to you, kid,” the undead sorcerer responds. “Man, I can’t believe that apparently Zenin Shiki was never even born in this world. Must be why everything’s like this.”

At the utterance of ‘this,’ Zenin Naoya waves a hand towards their surroundings, all rubble and destruction.

“Things wouldn’t have been so bad if Gojo-sensei hadn’t been sealed,” Itadori shakes his head.

“Gojo-sensei?”

“Uh, Gojo Satoru.”

Zenin Naoya snorts. “That wishy-washy, indecisive guy? I’m not surprised he got himself sealed.”

“Hey! You can’t just say that about Gojo-sensei, he–”

“I’ll say what I want: Gojo Satoru doesn’t hold a candle to Shiki-sama.” Zenin Naoya suddenly lifts his gaze, sharp eyes staring directly into Kusakabe’s own with the piercing, authoritative gaze of someone who expects to be obeyed. 

“Oi, you,” he demands, pointing the end of his bloodied sword at Kusakabe. “You’re the backup? Mind telling me why there were a couple of students trying to throw hands with Ryomen Sukuna here on their own?”

[chuluoyi]

just had the thought.. imagine gojo watching reader and baby gojo from afar then suddenly his baby raised his voice at reader and gojo gets all sad

oh really, he’s going to be sad because he always thinks you’re the better parent😔 he is very aware that he’s away a lot of times and can’t find much time to spend with his son, and to see him getting angry at you would make him feel bad because obviously you have a lot on your plate too, and he feels as if he hasn’t helped much—and if your son feels lonely because of that, then it’s wholly his fault

…even more when he finds out that his son is kidnapped afterwards

[stormhaven13]

I'm making this its own post rather than reblogging my other one about the HADES facility, that seems to reach more people, and this is important. Let's talk about our main antagonists, and their reveal. Spoilers for a lot throughout this post, including some major twists and the ending of Forbidden West.

I'm going to start by giving general reactions throughout the reveal cutscene, then move into more specific thoughts.

Firstly, they can open a gene-locked hatch. Sylens doesn't even plan for this, he has no way of knowing they had the ability to create Beta. Her reveal is well done, giving us an immediate idea of their capabilities, but hiding her allegiances.

Then, we have the clearly advanced robots, much more fluid than the machines we deal with.

I love the contrast between the white that Beta wears here, and the armor that I have Aloy in (Shadow Stalker, of course).

First sight of Tilda. I am terribly face blind, so that didn't faze me any more than the voice did, but I'm sure many people recognized her at that point.

I like the introduction of the Zeniths here. They immediately give them a dynamic, made them threatening, but leave enough mystery that promises more. I wish they delivered better.

The boss fight. The concept is interesting. But it has next to no difficulty on Ultra Hard, the worst of his attacks don't even two shot me, and his ranged attacks are truly pitiful. I get that they don't want you to get stuck in a story mission, but like. I chose Ultra Hard, let me get my ass beat please. I want to be scared of them, and that fight didn't do the job.

What does do the job is the Specters, and the fleeing. It's a masterful sequence, and their attacks hurt an appropriate amount.

I love how ultimately what screws Aloy over isn't truly the Zenith, or the Specters. Its the facility falling apart, its almost drowning. It's making a bad call, as everyone does every so often.

And then we get Aloy attempting to "recover" (read immediately try and get herself killed out of shear stubbornness). This is just a masterful scene, introducing us to Utaru culture, showing off Aloy's smarts that she does have when she decides to listen instead of running face first into danger. We get to see Varl, who has clearly been building connections, trying to find allies for the cause. He's been here for awhile, or at least in theory. The game tells us it's been two days, which I don't really buy. It's a tough line here, as really any amount of unconsciousness in reality would be real bad for Aloy, but there needs to be time for Zo and Varl's relationship to build. They probably needed more time for the latter, especially if they want a kiss here. It works great otherwise, but the kiss feels early for them, even if its good for Aloy's arc.

I love Varl trying to translate for Aloy, and Aloy completely struggling to be unable to help. It's badly needed. And we get Aloy being truly genuine with her friend, feeling that this is something she can never have for herself. It's not even really about romance at this point I think, it's about connection.

Alright, general thoughts. This quest is (mostly) very strong. It's great for the both the character and larger plots, introduces our new antagonists, who cannot be stopped by just Aloy's bow and spear, and her stubbornness. Here is a foe, like HADES, that she can't just stab and fix. In theory, this is all great...

But we know where it ends. As I hinted at above, I don't like the Zeniths, I don't like this story line, and I have real problems with their characters (not you Beta, you can stay). We'll talk more in detail as we near the end of the game, but the problem is pretty basic. None of them, except Tilda, are given any amount of depth whatsoever. Tilda has her own issues, we'll cover her later, but with both Eric and even worse Gerard, we will never learn anything meaningfully more than this quest about either of them. Eric is a sadist, and Gerard. Is the leader I guess? He's even weaker than Eric, which is saying something.

This is made far worse by following Ted Faro, one of the best villains in just about anything I've seen or played. People (including me) hate Ted Faro, but I also understand him. I see him reflected in the real world, Faro is driven by pride and ego, and the desire to protect those two things above all else. Gerard and Eric are given none of the depth that Ted has, and to be clear Ted is not a deep character, he's simply an extremely effective villain. They are just, in the end, too close to Faro, and given nothing to do. When they do something I hate, I don't get mad at them, I get mad at the writing. And that is a true failure of a character, to me.

[foxilayde]

Any interest in a Peter Roiter fic about him attending his parents wedding in 2023— thirteen months before his own birth—where he meets someone (*ahem* YOU) and things get sci-fi sexy?