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alexsoenomel · 1 year

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Adrenalize Me (Sam Winchester x Reader smut)

Summary: You have a lustful sinful thing for Sam and well so does he so stuff happens

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: rough sex, degrading king, praising kink (I’m going to hell)

Word count: 3403

Note: I wrote this while I was sexually frustrated lol based on THIS song. Enjoy! Like/Reblog or both if you like it! :)

I wanted him to show me exactly what he was capable of. I wanted him to take me right there in the library and fuck my brains out. Sadly, he wasn’t a mind reader so I had to find a way to tell him in a subtle way what I wanted; HIM NAKED IN VARIOUS POSITIONS. I have known him and his older brother for years, ever since I started hunting with them after my family was killed by a demon. I was very aware they were both blessed with good looks, but damn I couldn’t predict that I will eventually fall for Sam fucking Winchester. I wasn’t thinking about love, hell I have never been in love, it was lust running through my veins. I just knew I wanted him close to me.

Ever since I started hunting with the Winchesters few years ago, Sam was the one occupying my mind 24/7. Why? Well, lean, tall, strong and smart Sam was a hunk for sure, and pleasure for my eyes, but there was also one thing when added to the mix created chaos in my head. One night at around 2am while we were in Milwaukee working on a case ,Dean was out drinking and probably trying to get laid and I was in my room sleeping, before I was woken up by the noise and banging in Sam’s room next door. Walls in this motel were pretty thin and I don’t think Sam thought this one out.

“What the fuck?” I mumbled to myself as I turned on the night light. I could hear the girl, loud as day, screaming and moaning Sam’s name over and over again while the bed was banging against the wall which separated our rooms. It was like he did this on purpose, wanting me to hear them.

That was when Sam had poured gasoline all over me and started the damn fire. I tried not to listen, I tried to go back to sleep but curiosity go the best of me. Instead I was lying in bed, listening carefully as he was pounding into her and I must say it was so fucking hot. Who knew he was so rough and violent in the sack, he was moaning, cussing and groaning, sending me into a fucking trance. I have been with fair share of guys and I’ve never really gotten what I wanted from them. They would treat me like I’m some sort of a glass doll, broken princess, they would always go slow; and I didn’t want that. It was boring to me, I have never been interested in vanilla stuff, I was more of a fuck me until my face falls off kind of girl. Naturally when I heard Sam through the thin wall call that lucky girl whore followed by good girl I completely lost it. My panties were soaked as I shoved two fingers inside of me, pumping in and out as fast as I could, listening to what probably was the hottest music my ears had the pleasure to hear. That night I saw stars as I had the most amazing orgasm. That night I figured out what I needed- Sam Winchester. I imagined that girl saw whole galaxies that night. I knew I had to do something, especially when I haven’t had luck in the sack department for months now.

***

We were in the library trying to find us a case and I was losing my mind. I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Sam. He was wearing his red and black flannel, with sleeves rolled up; showing off hands and veins......GOD FUCKING DAMN IT. I clenched my thighs as I was trying to stop myself from staring too much. He was looking something up on his laptop while Dean and I were balls deep in books and documents. Well Dean was...

“I think I found us a case. Milwaukee, five found dead in the woods, hearts missing.” Sam said.

“Milwaukee? Oh memories.”

“Werewolfs.” Dean said.

“You guys wanna go?”

“I’m in and I think Sammy here is too, considering the fact his lady friend is from Milwaukee.”What Dean said and with a damn smirk made my heart drop and my body as stiff as a statue. I thought Dean didn’t know about her. I faked a smile and turned to Sam who was kind of blushing. What if they were more than one night stand? “A lady friend Sammy?” I asked pretending to be completely oblivious.

“Uh...that was one time Dean. And how do you even know about her?” He said to his little brother clearly annoyed. “Yeah...some random girl I met in a bar after a case. “ He added but not looking at me at all.

“Well, you see, that night I went to a bar hoping, like you, to get lucky. I got back drunk and with no luck and the wall was thin so...even drunk I could still hear you. I’m surprised you didn’t hear them too (Y/N), that chick was mad loud I had to cover my face with a pillow. Gross.” He said giving his brother a clear look of disgust.

“Oh no, I was in deep state of coma.” I lied.

Sam was clearly uncomfortable. His cheeks turned red as he closed the laptop immediately. “ONE TIME DEAN! I’m gonna go get ready and advise you to do the same.” He then said and went to his room. I didn’t know what to think. It was clearly a meaningless one night stand to him and he clearly wasn’t going to see her again which was awesome...WHY WAS I SO GOD DAMN JEALOUS THEN?

“Awww you made him blush.” I told Dean smiling a little. As much as I was angry/ jealous, seeing Sam blush like a school girl was adorable.

“It’s because of you.”

“Me?”

“Why me?” I asked.

“He kind of has a thing for you.”

And that ladies and gentlemen was the moment when I went into a deep state of shock. I know I sound overly dramatic, like I’m 15 again, but you know those butterflies you would feel whenever your crush would look at you? Well multiply that by 100 and spread them all over my body because that was what I felt.

“What?”

“You haven’t heard of me, but he kind of does have heart eyes for you.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW?” I asked in a loud whispered kind of tone.

Why now? And if that was true why did he sleep with that girl few mounts ago? I have never seen him stare nor do anything that would make me think oh, he likes me...

“I’ve seen him stare at you in a way...” He started but stopped himself due to a little wave of cringe; his disgusted face said it all...

“DEAN?”

“He wants to bang your brains out. Trust me.”

As I was about to tell him to stop talking bullshit Sam yelled from his room asking us if we were ready to leave. When we told them no he proceeded to yell back to hurry up because the sooner we leave the better. We left the bunker in about 15 minutes and all I could think about was Dean’s “He wants to bang your brains out.” sentence. I decided I have waited long enough and so the hunt for Sam Winchester has officially begun.

****

While we were on the road I was trying to think of the way to tell him “Hey I kind of heard you bang a girl and now I want you to do the same to me.” Without sounding desperate of course, but then the stupidest idea came to my head. Maybe just send him a text...

I knew it was better for me to wait until we finish the job but my lack of patience couldn’t let that happen. A long drive was ahead of us and if Dean’s observation was true I needed to know....NOW. I took my phone from my pocket...

“I know this is kind of weird but I can’t wait and I want to ask you something without Dean knowing...”

I clicked send. Sam was listening music on his phone so he responded right away.

“Ask.”

Should I be straight forward or....

Yes...

Always being straight forward.

“Dean told me you have a thing for me. Is that true?”

Click.

Sent.

“CRAP.”

My eyes kept staring at the screen as the bubble showed 3 dots telling me he was still writing... If Dean wasn’t right there were only 2 options you could do:

Bury yourself alive

Kill Dean and then bury yourself alive

“I don’t know how he knows, but I do.”

Dean was right...well then... I was relived I didn’t embarrass myself, my lack of patience hadn’t ruined my mood nor made the situation awkward like it tended to do almost 99% of my whole adult life.

“He told me you were looking me in a “I want to bang you” kind of way.”

“If I told you I wasn’t, that would be a lie.”

“Jesus, Sammy why didn’t you say anything? And why bang that girl if you want me?”

“Because I didn’t know if you want the same and I have needs...wait, do you?”

“Sam, ever since I have heard you bang that chick I have imagined you in various positions doing the same to me...Yes, you can say I want the same.”

“You heard us?”

“Yeah and to be 100% honest it was the greatest orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“You were touching yourself?”

“I couldn’t help it.”

“So you liked it?”

“Very much.”

“God, I’m so hard. I want you, NOW.”

I was suddenly feeling a wave of heat rush over my entire body as I gather the strength to respond.

“After we finish this, you can have me...whenever and however you want.”

“And Sam, please don’t let Dean see you with a boner <3.” I then added.

I could hear a chuckle leaving Sam’s mouth as his brother looked at him for a second before turning his gaze on the road again. “What’s so funny?” Sam immediately put his backpack on his lap pretending to look for something until he calmed down.

“Nothing.” He said.

“Is it your lady friend?” Dean said looking at me in the review mirror. I just gave him a blank stare.

“How many times do I have to tell you it was a one night stand, Dean?”

“I took some pictures of you sleeping so I sent it to your brother.” I said.

“Not cool (Y/N).” Dean said as I just ignored him. I started to feel tired so after a while I feel asleep to the sound of Led Zeppelin blasting through the speakers.

****

“Hey (Y/N) wake up.” I heard Sam’s voice. “We’re here.”

I slowly opened my eyes only to see Sam smiling. I remembered the texts and immediately had an urge to kiss those beautiful lips of his. But that had to wait... Right now all I wanted to do was take a shower; being stuck in the car for almost 11 hours wasn’t fun at all. We went to the motel and asked one room with three beds and because it was 5pm we decided to wait until the Sun goes down and then go to work. Dean said he was going to take a nap while Sam and I decided to go and eat something. After we both showered (sadly not together to save water) we left leaving Dean snoring under the covers. That man was so adorable while sleeping it was sometimes hard to believe he was able to kill monsters. If a baby rabbit had a gun...that was Dean.

Anyway, when we left my lust for Sam was slowly reaching its climax. I was clenching my thighs again, biting my bottom lip and sweating like I had a damn fever. I was nervous, so naturally when he didn’t stop the car at the diner the nervousness got worse. We haven’t spoken a word; he just drove until there were no more houses or people in sight...just trees, the road and us, parked between them. He unbuckled his seatbelt and lean on his side to look at me as I did the same.

“So, I’m guessing you’re not hungry?” I asked trying to sound confident but in reality I was slowly turning into a pile of goo.

“I am, but for something else.” He said with a smirk stroking my cheek with his thumb. I’ve never actually felt his touch until now, and it was intoxicating to say at least.

“Real Smooth Sammy.”

I could see his pupils were huge as he leaned in and kissed me. “FUCKING FINALLY!” My mind screamed as I took his face, pulling him closer. He wasn’t shy or gentle; he slid his tongue almost immediately when I opened my mouth. After I couldn’t breathe anymore I broke the kiss and pushed him back to his seat. Then I went and sat on his lap legs between him and facing him. There wasn’t enough room so he went for the lever and pulled it as hard as he could as the seat moved back, making room for both of us.

“So I’m guessing we aren’t going to wait after the hunt?” Sam asked me.

“You’re the one who didn’t stop the car at the diner so you tell me.”

His hand went on my cheek. “I couldn’t help it.”

“I’m glad you couldn’t.”

I kissed him this time, hard, as my hands went in his hair pulling slightly and his went on my hips. I slowly started to grind against him, feeling how hard he already was, making me weak by second. I always had a thing for gridding; maybe it was because you are so close to get what you want yet so far. My pace was slow, taking my time, feeling him but my kisses were fast and hungry. I bit his lower lip, sucked his tongue, driving him crazy... I was trying to tell him not to be gentle with me and I think he had picked that up because when he pulled my hair breaking the kiss, forcing me to look at him, my heart jumped from joy as my pussy got wetter.

“I see you like to play rough.” He whispered into my ear as he bit my earlobe.

“Very.” I responded trying to catch my breath. “Like Dean said I want you to bang my brains out.”

“Never thought of you as someone who likes it rough.”

“Same goes for you; until I heard you bang that girl.” I told his as I cupped his face. “Now shut up and fuck me.”

With a huge ass grin on his face Sam locked the car and started unbuttoning my flannel. Me, feeling like a horny teenager again, kissed him like my life depended on it. It was intoxicating; I became more addicted with each and every kiss... As my shirt went on the floor of the car, with ease Sam took off my bra as well, as his lips attacked my neck. He was kissing, licking and biting along the way, until he reached my left breast and stayed there for few second. His hands were on them squeezing hand while his mouth left a hickie. I threw my head back as my hips were still grinding against him. I was growing impatient, needy even...

“Take off your shirt.” I said. Sam just unbuttoned two buttons before taking off the flannel and shirt he was wearing underneath it. His body...god his body. It was firm, strong and carved by God himself.

Suddenly he took a good chunk of my hair and pulled, forcing me to look at him yet again. I gasped in surprise. “Happy?”

“Y-yeah.” I managed to say. I was addicted to this.

“You’re such a bad little thing, did anyone tell you that?”

“No.”

“Well, you are and do you know what happens to bad girls?”

“They get punished?” I sounded like a child that was about to get their present for Christmas. God I was desperate.

“Exactly.”

Sam was growing impatient with me and my shenanigans. We talked enough. I stood up and managed somehow to take off my booths and jeans. He didn’t tell me to get in the back seat so I just waited in the passenger seat until he got his jeans and boxers off as well, so I can be on top of him again. As much as I wanted to be under him, to feel his weight and pain in my crotch as he pounds into me, we couldn’t fit in the backseat, this was more comfortable. When he took off his boxers my mouth started to water. He was big, hard and beautiful. I pinned him against his seat, positioning myself and finally sat.

“My God!” I whispered.

“Feels good, huh?”

“So, so good.” I said.

As I was slowly starting to move and speed up the pace, Sam’s hand found my neck slowly tightening his grip to the point where I couldn’t breathe. “Faster.” He demanded. I moaned and did what I’ve been told. My head was occasionally hitting the roof of the car but I didn’t care. He was sending me to the place no man has ever been capable of doing. He wasn’t playing games. As I was jumping on him with my hands on his hand which was around my neck I was moaning and cussing feeling him hitting the G-stop.

“My little slut.” He mumbled. “Do you like being called that?” He asked as his breathing started to speed up. I nodded as much as I could, when his other hand went between my legs to my clit. He was actually trying to kill me.

“If you make a sound I will stop.” He said and started rubbing me with his thumb. Two slow circles later and I was having an urge to scream. I was already feeling my orgasm approaching and keeping my mouth shut was close to impossible, but I managed to do it somehow even when he was rubbing me faster than before. Pretty sure I was going to have a bruised bottom lip for a while, because biting it was the only way to keep my mouth shut.

“Good girl.” He said letting go of my neck. I pulled on his hair and kissed him feeling a smirk on his lips as I was starting to lose control over myself. He pulled me closer and bit my shoulder as I was jumping onto him. It was like he was reading my mind; he knew exactly what to do.

“ Fuck! Sam I’m...I’m close.”

“Don’t you cum until I tell you!!!” He yelled. “HOLY SHIT!”

“But-but please Sammy! I need it.” I cried out. “I really need it...FUCK!”

In a split second his hand grabbed my chin. His thumb was on my lips before I decided to open my mouth and suck on it. I was a mess, covered in sweat, hair all over my face and trying not to cum. So far I was controlling myself but for how long? I shut my eyes and bit his thumb slightly as he was hitting all the right places over and over again.

“NOW!” He said making me the happiest girl alive. I came all over him, moaning and screaming and after so did Sam. Seeing him in that state cussing and being completely lost in me was beautiful. I stopped moving as my chin went on his shoulder and hands around his neck. We were both panting and not saying a world. I could feel the pain in my shoulder from his bite, pain on my scalp from the pulling and it was fucking awesome. It was the good kind of pain.

“Holy shit!” I finally managed to say.

“Dean’s gonna kill us.” He said.

“I don’t know about you, but I can die happy now.” I said making him laugh.

“We should definitely do this again when we get back home.”

“All day, every day Sammy. Now let’s get back to the motel until Dean wakes up and realizes we took his Baby.” I said.

Turns out we didn’t have to worry, because when we got back to the motel, Dean was still fast asleep.

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aces-to-apples · 7 months

Note

could you perhaps be enticed into writing more codakin? with:

❛ you’re such a tease. ❜

❛ you know where to find me. ❜

you’ve written them so fabulously before 💖

This ask is. From January 2022. I wish you all a very I live in shame :margehiding: but hey, here's a visual reference lol? Note: Cody is deeply horny and thirsting hardcore under the cut

Cody hadn’t been present on Geonosis for the start of the war, but he was assigned to lead the 212th Attack Battalion under General Kenobi barely a month later.

Alpha-17 had given him a full briefing before shipping out, and an entire section of it had been dedicated to the behavior and neuroses of both the general and the general’s commander: a Padawan-Commander by the name of Skywalker. One-Seven had hardly been complimentary but the briefing had been helpful in dealing with them both, even after Skywalker was promoted to general himself and took ARC Trooper Rex with him to the 501st Legion.

(The captains’ tiles look good on Rex, when he’s forced into his dress whites, but that’s hardly the point.)

It’s been nearly two years since that briefing and Cody has more than enough experience to put together his own hours-long briefing just on Skywalker himself.

There are so many things about him—how his mind works, how his brain works—that Cody doesn’t think anyone else in the galaxy knows. Not Kenobi, not Commander Tano, not anyone else who’s ever shared his bed, even. And even so, Cody would never have guessed it before they started breaking formation together, but—

“You’re such a tease,” he hisses, low and resentful, as Anakin struts past.

The Jedi shoots a sunny smile back at him before reaching the front of the room and proceeding to contort himself into several showy, highly flexible poses, ostensibly to warm up. His shirt stretches with him and these poses in a variety of new and vaguely life-changing ways.

Shirt, of course, being a generous term for what the little padawan-commander’s devious mind has conjured up.

If Cody wasn’t sure she’d have let on long before now, and in a much louder fashion, he’d assume this was a deliberate attack on her part. Psychological warfare, even. If Rex knows, of course, then it just might be, but ‘get Cody so horned up, in front of a crowd of unaffiliated brothers, that he nearly bites a data-pad in half’ is not a Rex-typical form of retaliation.

The pants are—fine.

Brown fabric in a twill weave, they have a loose fit for a wide range of movement and only stay up thanks to the valiant efforts of a thick letheris belt. Of course it also has an eye-catching bar of silver for a buckle. Cody thanks every god large and small for that belt, buckle be damned. Without its stubborn presence keeping some semblance of modesty, Cody might actually shame the whole of the 212th with his lack of subtlety.

The training room is large and padded thickly, made for and used to the acrobatic nonsense of Jedi cadets. At the front—leading a mixed cohort of brothers from various assignments just barely maintaining a sense of propriety through said showy stretches—Anakin isn’t even wearing boot-liners.

And then that damned shirt.

Cody has seen glittering, sinuous dancers wearing more of a shirt than that kriffing thing.

He wants to rip it off—possibly with his teeth—and replace it with something with more coverage. Possibly himself.

At the back of the room, he watches Anakin slide his legs out to a 90-degree angle, bend, and place his hand flat on the mats. Someone finally breaks and wolf-whistles, to which Anakin simply flashes a smirk at the whole room and pushes himself up onto just his hands. Cody would be noting down the whistler for disciplinary action if he wasn’t desperately adjusting himself in his codpiece.

The shirt.

The shirt is practically nothing—or nearly so.

A black scrap of fabric dug out of a garbage bin, if Cody has to guess. It stretches obscenely around Anakin’s bulk, cut off at the diaphragm and leaving his soft belly exposed. No sleeves or real neckline to speak of, horizontal cut-outs bare inches above what’s already generous to call a hem.

The diamond cut-out in the center of his chest is the last straw.

High on his left pectoral, just under the clavicle, is a little spot of brown pigment. Cody knows that little spot intimately and with great fondness. Lying flat, the shirt covers it; showing off for an adoring crowd, the fabric twists and bunches, flashing that little spot to keen eyes.

Each time seeing it makes Cody want to stalk up to the Jedi and block everyone else's line of sight. And then bite it. Or something.

Cody has never been the jealous sort. He's from Kamino, how can he be? He's never owned a thing in his life, much less had an exclusive claim on a lover. That his jaw aches from grinding his teeth is—abnormal, to say the least.

Obnoxious, even.

And General Anakin kriffing Skywalker has the gall to enjoy it. The air around him practically crackles with his delight, even as the stupid kriffing outfit is supposed to embarrass him, or whatever Tano’s intention.

Cody has been through actual physical and mental torture modules constructed by sadists and abusers and yet, the 90 minutes that Anakin spends leading the assembly through a series of stretches and moving meditations are the longest of his life. In fairness, he wasn’t fully armored, in the middle of a crowded room, painfully aroused for the torture modules.

By the end of the time slot, Anakin’s hair is darkened and his skin glistening slightly with sweat.

He flashes an exasperated grimace at his padawan—the first indication of discomfort since he strutted into the room to start—but dismisses the troopers but his usual warm half-grin and takes their farewell-ribbing with grace. Cody watches his shoulders slump just slightly when the final trooper turns away, before he rallies.

The strut returns and Cody, unthinking, grabs his wrist as passes on the way to the exit.

Anakin meets his eyes through his helmet visor and words fail him. What is he supposed to say? ‘That was unbearably hot, never do it again’? ‘Fuck me before you go or else I might explode’? ‘May I pretty please, with a moonberry on top, suck you off’?

He hesitates too long.

Anakin Skywalker can be achingly sweet and often is, but he can also be unbearably smug and self-assured. His eyes and smile darken, becoming something wicked and teasing, and he hooks gentle fingers around Cody’s utility belt and tugs him just barely closer. Trails those fingers up the center of his cuirass. Taps them just over his sternum, where he knows a small sunflower is inked brightly, just between his pectorals.

If his helmet was off they’d be sharing breath, foreheads nearly pressed together, as close to a kiss as they can get on a battlefield.

“You know where to find me,” he murmurs, low and deep, irises nearly swallowed by pupil as he keeps Cody’s gaze.

Then fingers tap sharply against his armor and Anakin rocks back on his heels, ruffling his curls and smiling sunnily. He whistles something jaunty as he swaggers away—a normal song at one point, probably, but most likely a filthy rendition thought up by bored troopers on campaign—and Cody can’t move or speak for several moments.

If he moves, he’ll do something very much not acceptable in public, either by himself or after hunting Anakin down through the halls; if he speaks, it’ll be to moan or whine or beg, damn the consequences of whoever hears. So he stays still and quiet as a stealth mission. Until sense returns.

Or his brain boots back up.

Once it does, though, ooh…

He is going to get his revenge for that, one way or another.

#star wars #the clone wars #sw fic #ask meme #anon asks #answered asks #by apples #subtle smut prompts #i'm GUESSING that's what list this was from lmao rip #codakin #commander cody #anakin skywalker

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ambystoman · 5 months

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Magellany (Redo) (Nebulite)

Move out of the way, here comes the greatest adventurer in the whole damn galaxy: Magellany!

"Just call me Mag!"

She is brave, strong and... acts before thinking. She gets irritated easily, especially when people get in her way, calling them get-in-the-ways. Magellany is very rude and honest, never holding back on any comments.

She is a Nebulite, a peculiar species of sentient nebulae. Her body composition makes it possible to morph into any form as she wishes. She is not confined to a humanoid body. Her preferred weapon is her trusty Scimistar.

This magical sword is a projection of her soul which is located on her chest, in the shape of a crystal. Her power comes from this object and is also her weak point.

Nebulites have incredible capabilities for Cosmic Magic. While not on the same level as someone like Mr. Sky, they are capable of creating spontaneous life. They do so to help with tasks or do jobs that might be dangerous for them. These rudimentary organisms can last as long as the user needs them to. Their intelligence is very limited though.

Nebulites. Mag and her older sister depicted here

She is not good with this ability though since nobody taught her and so the most she can do is use raw life energy to create primitive beings that she uses as weapons.

In Soul Trail, her special attack is making a little dude that goes in a straight line and damages far away opponents. Once I restart development I plan on adding more of this ability to her move set.

She claims to hear voices from space. Her favorite animals are tarantulas and she really likes long sleeved clothing along with robes.

Random works of her made over the years

Backstory

She lives in a solitary planet with her older sister, Nube. Their parents are long gone and so her sister takes care of her and usually does what is best for her. Mag attends navigation classes at some kind of academy and she hates it there. Often daydreaming of what could be is she were able to sail out into space on a ship of her own with treasures to find, foes to defeat, and people to befriend. All in her own way without anyone telling her what to do.

Beneath all her harshness hides a lonely girl who only wants friends and a life she can have control over. Her short-lived creations are the only creatures who stay by her side.

Her creations only live for minutes. She likes to sit on the roof of her house and talk to them

One day something really big would happen that would change her whole life...

Inspiration

As mentioned in the post, she is a nebula; a space cloud. She is meant to be the Magellanic Cloud (hence her name) and her coloration is taken from NGC 2074. The powers Nebulites have of creating life is a reference to how all planets are born from nebulae, this could eventually lead to the creation of life within these planets.

She was the first character made for this project and has gone through some changes over the years.

NGC 2074. Fun fact, this photo was taken in my birthday! (Photo credit to NASA)

As for her clothes and design, I was really into Kirby at the time and so many of my early designs sort of looked like spacey Kirby-ish inspired creatures.

This was a much needed redo of my first post on Tumblr.

Her very first drawing. Made in 2019. She used to have a sort of visible skull.

Mildly annoyed. Drawn by @blaz-art

Addendum

It just came to me her outfit was totally inspired by Toon Link from The Legend of Zelda along with her proportions and body shape. Idk why I forgot lol.

Pretty busy at the moment still btw, but still making stuff.

#3d modeling #blender #original character #digital art #art #original oc #gamedev #space #soul trail #ambystoman #lowpoly #nebula #large magellanic cloud #small magellanic cloud

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badpancakelol · 1 year

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After completing his second term as King of Naboo, Steve would say that there wasn’t much from it that he missed. Yes, he misses being able to communicate with the people of Naboo so easily — being able to use his title for something inherently good instead of for the sake of intimidation — but the countless hours spent doing paperwork and being held up in his ivory tower, seeing the people from afar, and not being able to take a hands on approach?

No, Senator Steve Harrington doesn’t miss it. He’s grateful to his people for their support and their love, trying to amend the laws to let him serve another term, but the traditions existed for a reason, and one continuous ruler was not the way to let their world grow.

The one thing that he very much did miss, however, was the royal transport (and some of the ornate clothing, okay? You caught him. However heavy the headpieces were, and however cake-y the makeup was, he missed being carted around and dolled up. The silks the sheer sleeves, the heels). Being able to skip lines and take direct hyperspace routes to planets — he misses it.

He enjoys piloting, sure, but not being the one in charge lets him work on all the different things he has to do on before he arrives… wherever he needs to go. Perfecting speeches, replying to comm messages, keeping in contact with his people, staying up to date with what’s happening in the senate, messaging Eddie.

It’s what brings Steve to the commute shuttle, the cold air, and the mostly empty seats, on his way to some Force-forsaken freezing planet that he was visiting to gain data on the war effort. Was it technically his job? No. But it was data that would help with his bill, and he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try to do it himself.

Sure, Hop had offered to continue serving for him, being his body guard and keeping him safe and flying him places, but Steve had just waved him off. Had told him that it wasn’t that big a deal, and that most people took the public commute anyway — why should he be any different when he’s representing these people?

“Caf, Senator?”

The woman strolling her hovercart down the aisle is polite in the way that she smiles — a twi’lek. Her purple lekku adorned with the intricate markings of her people. It was something that Steve had always found himself interested in. How there are so many different living species who had their own cultures around the galaxy; so different and so similar all at once.

“Do you have sugar?”

She nods and hands him the portable packets. Steve reaches for the smooth rectangular credits in his pocket, places it in the outstretched palm of her hand, and watches as she moves on to the next couple of seat in front of him. He has a lot of work to do, and yet he can’t stop himself from just— people watching. Seeing how all these little families were as complex as his own being. Dealing with drama and love and death all the same.

Maybe that’s why he’s so worried about the current political climate; with the Separatists and the Republic at war, the Kaminoans have started the production of clones. It’s not the actual process that he’s against — he’s heard that it’s actually quite nice growing up on Kamino, that you get to be with your own ‘batch’ of brothers, who stick with you well into your life and the war — it’s the way that everyone else has been treating them. He knows that the other senators don’t see them as anything but cannon fodder. They wear a bounty hunter’s face. They’re not really humans. They’re like those strand-casts. They are not citizens of the Republic.

They weren’t exactly subtle with their views.

It didn’t matter how many times the men rallied and shouted for the Republic! as they sent themselves off into a losing battle. The senators were not changing their mind. And, well. Steve has a real fucking problem with that. He’s looked at the fine print that the Kaminoans have given the senate, and he’s seen the way citizens of the Republic, of core worlds, sneer at the men when they are off duty. Nothing good will come from this. Steve feels in his bones that they are only set to fail.

He just wishes there was more he could do for them. Go out to every single on of them and tell them you matter, you are different, you are individual, you are alive. Because he had met some of them, earlier on. He had met a group of clones, seen the way that they were all different, the way that they had come up with names for each other and themselves, acting as their own fathers for that of the bounty hunter who had left them behind.

(“And what’s your name?”

“CT-7742, sir.”

Steve turns to look at the rest of the men — their armour adorned with a deep blue, different markings on each piece of armour. Some of them look more professional than others, but the Kaminoans had told him that these clones were new. That they were only so young.

“And you?”

“CT-3301, sir.”

Steve smooths down his robe from where he stands. Do these men not get named? He knows that the Kaminoans don’t let them have, well, anything. But surely they’re allowed this? They’re allowed to be named?

“Do you only go by your designated number? I’m not going to tell the Kaminoans if you like to be called something else.”

“No, sir.” CT-3301 says. “We are only allowed to be addressed by out CT number, or our rank—”

“But what do you want?” Steve stressed. “I’m not here to sing the Kaminoans praises. I’m here to figure out what you want, and how you want to be represented. You deserve to have someone advocating for you in the senate, so I need to know exactly what you want. Not what you were told to say.”

He settles his hands back into their long sleeves, the navy colour reflecting off of the white armour of the men in front of them. Steve had been informed about the accelerated aging in the clones, and how it was meant to be a ‘good thing’. How these men that had been on missions, had been moulded to be soldiers, were only ten years old. The senate had shied away from that fact, away from the idea of child soldiers fighting to keep them safe, while having less rights than the vehicles that carted them around their fancy Coruscant apartments.

“Buddy.” CT-7742, Buddy, says. “The Jedi that we served under — he didn’t like the idea of calling us numbers, either. So would call me Buddy. And then it stuck.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Buddy.” Steve nods, and smiles. “What about the rest of your batch?”

“Ace.”

“Sev.”

“Fetch.”

“Per.” He says. “Pronounced like the fruit, spelt without the ‘a’.”

“Because he wanted to be ‘special’.” Snorts Fetch.

“There’s already two other clones I know called Pear! I can’t just go around taking their name.”

“You know, my partner and I have very mundane names. There are over a thousand humans called Steve or Eddie.” Senator Harrington said. “So I think one out of three is pretty damn special. With or without the ‘a’.”).

They are as alive as any other being, in Steve’s mind. In his heart. And they needed to be recognised as such in the eyes of the public and the senate. For the men that he met, for the ones that he will never get the chance to.

Senator Cunningham was on his side for this. She was a stern believer in clone rights, despite never having met any of those who served, but not as vocal as Steve was. And he doesn’t blame her, really. Her reasons are as valid as they come, with the way that her partner influences her votes, the way that he commandeers her speeches, the way that her whole family aches of rot. There’s more to the Cunningham’s than what meets the eye, and from the small moments that he’s shared with Chrissy, he’s worried for her.

He sighs. This is all too much to be thinking of on a public commute. He needs to keep working on the draft for clone citizenship and realisation of them as living beings in the eyes of the council. He doesn’t need to go on a tangent that nobody will hear, that nobody will take the time to consider. Steve needed to be articulate and smart with his word choice — things had to be put plainly enough for him to gain the public vote, and nuanced enough that the senate saw his reasoning.

“Next stop, T-minus, two standard Coruscant rotations.” The droid’s voice whispers over the intercom.

It was gonna be a long ride.

— — —

“Steve?”

He grumbles, tucks his head further into the corner near his window seat.

“Stevie?”

He feels fingers through his hair, a warm laugh as a pushes himself closer to the touch.

“You know, for a senator, you’re pretty careless about your own safety. Not even a guard around here?”

“Eddie?”

“The one and only.”

Steve opens his eyes to find his partner, his lover, adorning the seat that used to be empty, beside him. He sees the way that his eyes are soft despite the tiredness surrounding his being, the way that his shoulders slump forward into Steve’s space — trying to give him parts of his own warmth. His time on Tattooine had tanned his skin, slightly, not as much as Steve’s natural tone was, but enough for him to not be as piercing as the Hoth weather. He’s missed this. Being able to touch. Being able to see each other in the colour that holos don’t provide.

Steve pushes himself up from his slumped position against the window and into Eddie’s space, revels in the way that he tucks his head into Steve’s shoulder.

“Missed you.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t know you were going off-world? I would’ve asked Hop to pick you up and we could’ve gone together. Or I could have flown.”

“You’re a terrible pilot.” Eddie laughs, and the movement sends a comforting rumble down Steve’s spine.

“And you know that’s a lie. Self-projection isn’t the prettiest look on you, Eds.”

They seperate, and the stars from the window reflect against Eddie’s dark eyes. Sometimes they seem as if they are an endless inky pool — as wide and diverse as the universe itself. It’s cliche, Steve knows it is, because he’s read it in about every romance series on his datapad, or heard it be said in every holodrama. He should be able to come up with a better way to articulate it, what with his whole job being about convincing people with his words, but he can think of no other way to say it. Maybe it is cliche, but even with all the starmaps of the universe, he would still get lost in Eddie’s eyes.

“Force, you know how many clients gave me bantha crap for being a mechanic who couldn’t fly properly? It’s honestly ridiculous.” He does the same thing he always does when this is brought up. Eddie leans forward and then dramatically slams himself into the back of his seat, arms crossed, eyes rolling throughout the action.

“Well, maybe it’s time that you re-learnt how to fly?”

“I’ve got my republic-mandated license, thank you very much.”

“You’re actually lying out of your ass right now. We both know that the republic has tried — and failed — to mandate flying tests. There’s literally no such thing as a republic-mandated license.”

“S’not the only thing the Republic has failed to do, recently.” Eddie sighs.

Steve shifts in his seat watches as the they move passed the stars beside him. The warmth that Eddie offered through his layers, his flight suit, shirt and jacket, were still there, but there was a sense of finality to the way that he was speaking that said I know what is going to happen, I’m scared.

There was always a part of Steve that felt slightly responsible every time the senate made a decision that effected the Republic in a way that was horrible. On their weekly holo calls, they would try and avoid the topic of politics, because whenever it was brought up, Steve could see how it was wearing down on Eddie, who lived in the Outer Rim, and Steve has no doubt that Eddie could see how it was wearing down at himself, as he failed to deny the passing of a key bill.

He can’t escape it, now. Now that they’re face to face, with nobody else in this section of the starship commuter.

“You know about what’s happening with the war?” Steve asks, although he already knows the answer.

“How could I not?” Eddie huffs, and when Steve turns to look at him, he has a faraway look on his face that he saw reflected in some of the older clones. “It’s fucked, out at Tattooine. I didn’t want to worry you with everything going on, but—”

“I thought the attack wasn’t near the main town?”

“It’s everywhere.” Eddie says. “I know you can’t do anything about it — the Republic can’t do anything about it — but I couldn’t stay there. I mean, Force, Steve, I don’t really want to be fixing ships in the middle of nowhere for the rest of my life, you know? It’s good and easy and honest work, sure, but I’m not really doing anything. It’s all just— meaningless.”

“My door is always open. You could have just holo’d me and I would have come straight there—”

Eddie shakes his head. There’s a furrow between his brow that reads apologetic, and Steve just can’t understand why he would’t come to him for help. This was their plan for the long run for years. Eddie said that he wanted to work on Tattooine, gaining experience, knowing the Outer Rim as well as he possibly could, while Steve ran as King and then senator. And once they had saved up enough, and Eddie was tired of the two suns, or Steve was tired of arguing for his job, they would move in together.

Not on Tattooine, not on Coruscant, but somewhere nice that they would choose together to foster a new home. Somewhere that Eddie would find a job that he was content in, maybe somewhere like Sorgan, or somewhere that was close enough to Coruscant that Steve could take one hyperspace jump to the council. Maybe— he doesn’t know. Moving back to Naboo, if they have to.

But with everything going on — the war, the clones, the Kaminoans and the Separatists — Steve understands. He hates the way that Eddie didn’t try and tell him, but he knows how he is. Knows that he would have tried to convince him to stay in a place that he was getting sick of, to move to a place that was overcrowded and filled with stuffy suits and nepo-babies.

“You’re going.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, turns to look at Steve head-on. “You’re doing your part to help with the war from the council. I’ve seen the way you’ve advocated for those clones, Steve.”

“And you feel like you need to be doing more?” Steve asks, almost wishing it to be not true.

“Something like that,” Eddie sighs. “There was an opening — they need a mechanic to help teach some of the new clones the basics to their venators and other warships. I know my way around them since Wayne was so obsessed with what made them tick when I was younger.”

“I remember meeting him that first time, and all he wanted to talk about was looking at the ship I arrived on.” Steve reaches his hand across their shared armrest and tangles his fingers with Eddie’s. “Do you know where you’ll be stationed?”

“Someplace warm, they said.”

“Maybe they read your file and thought you couldn’t get enough sun.” Steve replies, hand brushing against the warm tones of Eddie’s cheek. He doesn’t want him to leave. He only just got him back — just got to see him in person for the first time in almost a year, and now he’s going to go to the front lines, with no promise of coming back.

“Those men you mentioned me to, that first time you met a batch of clones? Sev and Ace and Fetch and Buddy and—”

“—Per without an ‘a’?”

“Yes! The brief mentioned that they were going to be stationed with me. At least I’ll have some familiar faces, right?”

Steve smiles, pinches Eddie’s cheek. “The Republic would say that they’re all familiar.”

“We both know that isn’t true.”

“Yes,” He says, as he looks down to the datapad balanced precariously on his lap. The auto lock had turned on, password protected for miles on end, but if he looks hard enough at the black screen he can imagine the words of the drafted bill searing themselves into his brain. “You couldn’t be more right.”

Steve knows why Eddie has to do this. Because it is the same reason that he has to make sure this bill passes. It is the same reason why Steve hasn’t changed his last name, yet, despite not having a good or healthy relationship with his parents. Names held power, families held power, and he knew this all too well. Steve, Senator Harrington, knows that he wouldn’t have received his position if it wasn’t for his service as King of Naboo, where he was elected through the grapevine of knowing names and titles that held a stupid amount of weight for so little syllables. His last name holds more worth than his words about the clones, right now, and he will milk that curséd name for all its damn value if it means the clones get even a slight chance at being recognised as alive.

Their names — names that are not recognised by those who created them, are only given by those who care enough to ask — are not even names. They are designations. They are numbers. They are ways that the Kaminoans and the Republic and the Jedi can keep track of how many soldiers they have, elect to move certain batch numbers to certain bases for the sake of ease and replenishing the ‘stock’ that they lost after each battle. It is how they have been alienated from their humanity to the public, the reason why they are seen as a worthy sacrifice or a sacrificial lamb.

“They mentioned you, you know?” Eddie says, fingers fidgeting their way between Steve’s. “That little mission to Kamino you went on a couple months back — it really left an impression on all of them.”

Steve nudges his shoulder, “You’re exaggerating. I was there for all of two days.”

“No! I’m serious.” Eddie rummages through his rucksack on the floor, pulling out his pristine datapad that he had only recently bought. It’s covered in flecks of Tattooine sand, and dust and smudges, but also stickers and drawings and a personalised case. There’s always something about Eddie’s belongings that makes Steve want to stare at them forever — like an intricate maze or puzzle that keeps giving and giving the more he looks at it. If his wasn’t council-sanctioned, he probably would have asked Eddie to help him decorate his, too.

Eddie flips through a couple images, and Steve watches over his shoulder as his face moves by — stills from their last holo talk, an image of the two suns setting, an interesting and (maybe) cute small creature, and then—

“Here!”

It’s an image, yes, but not like the others. It’s marked as saved, showing that Eddie wasn’t the one who took it, meaning that one of the clones Steve had met up with had been given Eddie’s contact. But the image it’s, well. It’s of their humble barracks on warm planet’s base. The bunkbeds look rickety, and the mattresses look lumpy, and somehow, despite the dirt and the small space, it looks infinitely more welcoming than their ‘home’ on Kamino did.

Sev and Ace are stood back to back, arms crossed, posing next to the neatly tucked in sheets, smiles on their faces despite the war. Steve can see the reflection of Fetch in the mirror hung by the bedposts, taking the image. Buddy and Per are each on one knee, hands raised and bracketing a poster of— of—

Him.

“What?”

Steve pulls Eddie’s datapad closer, zooms in on the image that the two men are proudly showcasing. It’s one of the in-council-session photos that must have been taken only a short while after he had visited them. His robes are the dark blue that mirrors their armour, and he looks angry. Steve’s hands are on the floating platform before him, sleeve running down to his wrists, hair tucked behind his ears with the Royal Nabooian gold jewellery of the King that he was gifted on full display: earrings and headpiece shimmering in the council’s light. There’s a set to his jaw as he glares up towards another platform— out of view. If he’s remembering correctly, it was towards the new Chancellor — the blonde one who had all these horrible ideas on the war, that everyone seemed to be accepting without reason.

In the first time that Steve can really see what people mean when they say he looks powerful, and not just because of a name he didn’t want.

“It’s not just Per and his batch, either. It’s actually quite a lot of the clones, if they’re not exaggerating.”

“Who sent the message?”

“Fetch.”

“Well,” Steve sighs — but not of contempt or exhaustion, no. It’s something else. Exhilaration? Determination? “Then I better believe it.”

Eddie uncurls Steve’s fingers from the datapad, turns it off and places it pack into the rucksack. “They all watch your speeches. I think they’re finally starting to realise what it’s like to have someone who wants to fight for them, without wanting anything back.”

Steve rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder, pretends not to find comfort in the way his hair still smells like the sun, pretends not to hurt at the realisation that his hair has grown longer since the last time they met in person. Was their life always going to be like this? Rotating suns and moons only meeting every millennia in some freak accident that was never, truly meant to be? Were they only to meet when the galaxies were ending, when they were at the beginnings and the middle of a war?

“The clones — all of them. They deserve so much more than this.”

It’s Steve’s way of saying I don’t want you to leave, but I know that there is nothing I can do to stop you. It is his way of saying you have such a large heart, and I wish it all belonged to me, but I know that you want to make as many people feel loved as you can. It is his way of saying I know.

And Eddie gets it. The same way Steve got it when he had to leave, first, when he was the catalyst of the long distance and the infrequent holos and the even more sparse in-person meetups, because of his kingship, because of his place on the senate.

There is too much to be said, but the droid’s voice over the intercom squirrels out a destination, a cold planet that Steve is underprepared for, that Eddie does not stop on, and their time is already up.

“Come back to me?” He asks, but he does not make him promise it, because Steve knows there is no way to truly make sure. Promises are worthless he had always been told. And yet, it still hurt when they were not fulfilled.

So he doesn’t make Eddie promise it. There is no way of knowing if he couple truly keep it.

“Always.” Eddie replies.

#stranger things april aus #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie x steve #steveddie #stranger things #more of the star wars au nobody (apart from one person) asked for!!#steddie star wars au #day five: flight au #aka: steve takes public transport because he wants to get work done #has a crisis about the clones #falls asleep #and then has his heart broken <3

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padmeanddorme · 1 year

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Rewatching the Star Wars Movies Part 1!

and now I notice the little details seeing as I am older!

Damn I hope there do be no typos in this rant I spent so much time and energy on….

So:

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away��.

I watched Star Wars the Phantom Menace again- one of my favourite movies of all time! And I realised that I could notice more details than usual and reflect on the meaning of particular scenes this time around!

- Padmé’s first ever entrance proves she is all business, is a fashionista and is a powerful woman who will not let any force of evil ruin innocent people’s lives

- I am so amazed that I am able to tell the difference between Sabé and Padmé now! I really want Keira Knightly to return as Padmé. Perhaps this is far-fetched- but in the Ahsoka series?!

- Otoh Gunga- the long shots of Obi and Qui swimming after Jar Jar towards the glowing Cory is gorgeous- but I wonder- how long did the city take to build? And how did they get all the resources down there? Why are the outside materials not rusting??!

- The way Obi-wan walks with his large robe sleeves makes him look so cute and tiny

- Ric Olié is such a dedicated, skilled pilot- I love how he is like Ani’s first mentor who teaches him the terms of the cockpit

- Obi-wan and his tendency to be like “picked up another pathetic life form” is 😂

- Ani being so respectful to his mumma is so cute. Shmi is so gentle- yet she will be forthright with her opinion and stubborn when she’s needs to protect Ani- she would have been an amazing grandma- and she would have shipped Anakin and Padmé so hard! I can just imagine the flustered, embarrassed 19 or 20-year-old Ani when they head to Tatooine after Anakin’s nightmares and Shmi is sharing embarrassing childhood stories about Anakin to Padmé. And the soft smile that would etch itself on her face when she walks in on Anakin and Padmé snuggled close to each other as they stay a night at the Skywalker-Lars homestead. Yes it just so happened that there were not enough beds so Anakin and Padmé had to share one- both were so nervous yet secretly thrilled to cuddle each other as they fell asleep 😴

- That conversation at the dinner table about how Anakin wants to finish a device to detect the slaving transmitters in the back of slaves’ necks makes me wish he and Padmé lived happily ever after on Naboo. They would go on fun adventures with their many children- Luke, Leia, Mila (after Milaflower), Jinn and another baby on the way, going to the snowy world of Hoth and swimming in the lakes of Naboo. When Anidala would want their hard-earned date week every 2 months or so, they would drop the kids off for 1 week with Sabé and the handmaiden gang (or Obi, Rex and Ahsoka?) so they could have a romantic vacation on Tatooine. But at the same time Anidala were investigating the slave situation and were being updated on the progress Sabé and Tonra had made by shipping freed slaves off world.

- The fluffy beard makes Ki-Ado seem like space Santa is swear

- I just noticed how upset and guilty Padmé appears when she suggests a vote of no confidence for poor, confused Valorum- she wants to immediately aid her struggling people but also feels wrong for ruining the career of confused Valorum

- Like frick off Palpatine he’s all smiling and like “I am going for Chancellor Yipee” and Padmé does not want to hear it! She realises there is more significant issues to worry about- *cough* and a *cough* “our people are dying in labour camps”! Ahah her feminist and stubbornness is shining through like a beacon!

- How soft Padmé’s features are and how gorgeous and intricately detailed her queen outfits are enhance her beauty yet symbolise how young she truly is

- Mace’s head shines so much at night time I swear

- I love how Qui-gon brushes off Obi’s negativity all the time and knows where how to focus his attention on the present and his passiona

- I actual burst out laughing when Ani was like ‘Qui-gon, Sir, I don’t wanna be a problem…”

- The elegant yet purposeful way the handmaidens stride onto the silver ship is so beautiful

- In the scene where Nute Gunray communicates with hologram Palpatine, I only just noticed the beautiful sculptures. These sculptures prove how much the Naboo people value art and express their creativity by surrounding themselves with decorations that have meaning

- Swampy Naboo giving Endor vibes damn

- I adore the bewilderment of Ani, Jar Jar and my Jedi boys when Padmé reveals herself as queen and everyone is like “what the the frick???”

- Maul’s staring into my soul! Ghost Padmé save me from the scary boy

- The strategic mind of Padmé is so inspiring- I love my intelligent gurl. She’s like- “ we make a diversion, we will use pilots to knock out the droid ship and we have Artoo’s strategic plan saved in his data bank—-”

- The fog and creepy bird noises as the Gungans march out onto the fields of Naboo builds some awesome suspense

- The droid army tanks moving sound like airplanes damn

- The handmaidens in battle action and being able to see their intricate hair buns is pretty sweet- I believe Eirtaé is the only blond handmaiden!

- Rest in peace that poor pilot who immediately crashed in the grassy Naboo fields

- ooh! I love how one of the Bravo pilots was a woman! Look at Naboo letting all genders be empowered, go my favourite planet!

- I love them oversized, glowing blueberries Jar Jar is still learning to throw

- Oh my Force! Sith are such dramatic turds I swear 😂 Darth Maul standing there menacingly, slowly lifting his eyes to death glare Obi and Qui-gon, alongside the music is killing me

- Maul flashing his teethies like a dog is hilarious 😆

- Maybe Jar Jar do be a sith… I mean, when his foot got tangled in the wiring of a battle droid and as he clumsily tried to escape the wire snaking around him- he managed to shoot many droids…

- Artoo is like man why the hell I gotta babysit this blond beach boy when I could be destroying the space station in like 2 minutes

- Qui-gon being stabbed brought me on the verge of tears. But I could not help but notice that, in the close up after he was stabbed so cruelly, his eyes sparkled a really deep blue- I never noticed he had sky blue eyes until then damn

-I love how prepared Padmé is with blasters resting in her secret throne compartment

- It was like a Star exploding seeing the Trade Federarion ship go BOOM

- The love in Qui-gon’s eyes as he strokes Obi’s cheek- I MISS HiM YOUR HONOUR

- SASSY PANAKA- “I think you can kiss your Trade franchise goodbye.” gIVes ME LiFE

- My favourite handmaiden outfit is the golden hooded robe after the end of the Invasion of Naboo

- Yoda is so scary when he frustrated DAMN! Agree with you the COUNCIL DOES NOT!!!

- In the funeral scene, I never noticed George Lucas’s little sneaky camera close up. After Mace exclaims- “but which was destroyed- the master or apprentice?” It zooms in on Palpatine’s face and fuzzes out everyone else- Foreshadowing is impeccabile here! Never noticed it when I was younger!

- Mwhaah- I noticed in a scene a few seconds before the movie ends that there was a handmaiden standing behind Obi in a beautiful, silverish, grey cloak. At first I was like- “hey that looks like Sabé!” I then had to skip back to the scene once the credits started rolling- and I took a picture of the face! I think I am right- the face seems to boast the features of Keira Knightly! Take a look for yourself:

Now enjoy some of my favourite moments and some aesthetic gifs from this amazing, underrated, family- feel good movie:

We will begin with incredibly blond and happy Anakin- poor Ani deserved to realise that little Luke, Leia, Jinn, Mila and his other kids looked like mini versions of him and Padmé….

So if you have made it to the end of my very long post….thank you!

Feel free to chat to me in the comments about anything Star Wars and positivity related.

May the force be with us all 🌌💖

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simonambroise · 9 months

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I've been tagged by @palebdot. I intend to talk about my work.

QnA under the cut or whatever.

1)What motivates you to write?

I love reading my writing when its good, because I can write the story I want to read with gay people in it. There is also my dearest friend Sahara Wheatbrick, a tumblrless follower whomst knoweth where I live, so... Fear and joy in equal measure.

2) A line/short snippet of your writing that you are most proud/happy of. If not maybe share a line of someone else's work you love (just please credit them)

Oh there's the scene I wrote from Lara's perspective (Lara is an alien called a Ruquati which is bipedal humanoid, typically red, orange or yellow with four arms) when she is first interacting with Taylor, a human child. Lara's internal processes are so fun to write, because she manages to be a space alien and yet so human. I will admit I took some inspiration from the whole humans are weird thing, but I feel the world building and characterization is the best I've ever done. I want to shove the entire chapter in here... But it isn't really a short snippet, yk? Tho its my post and I can do what I want..... Ill spare you the chapter but you'll get the whole scene.

Sorry for rambling tho haha

Lara had been working on a blanket when the larva stumbled in- a simple repetitive task. A useful task. Not the task she had been born for, but a task. Dip into the last row, grab the yarn, pull through. Dip into the last row, grab the yarn, pull through. Dip, grab, pull. She barely registered the door swinging open, but she did notice when little hands with one too many fingers tugged at her transparent sleeve. Lara looked down at the Terran, and blinked slowly. Such a small larva would not have the instincts that said eye contact was a threat, but it was more for her sake. To her surprise, the little Terran blinked back before clambering up to tuck themselves between her lower shoulders and the couch. Their skin was warm, surprisingly so- every reminder that the species could maintain a perfect temperature so well was like a bucket of cold water. A shocking reminder that Terrans were alien in every sense of the word. Another glance at the Terran larva, wide eyes completely unfamiliar on such a tiny face. Ruquatin larva didn’t have eyes, or legs, or much of anything. They only really began looking like adults as pupa, but even when Terran larva first hatched- or rather, ripped their way out of the adult’s stomach like some sort of parasite- they still resembled Terrans. Even inside the adult’s stomach, which Lara assumed was fairly similar to the egg stage, they had arms and legs and… eyes. Well, most of the time. Mistakes happen when you decide to build your descendants inside of your body. It was just poor decision making. A complete lack of planning. How were you supposed to get them out of there if something went wrong? If there were mites or worms or parasites? It was a miracle they even made it to space, Lara thought as the larva tucked close to her. They were warm, as all Terrans were. Radiating heat like the sun. Why they felt the need to head off into the great dark was a mystery. Terrans were a new species by most standards, never mind ancient Ruquatin standards. Their entrance to the galaxy was the catalyst to the fall of the Empire, and Lara could not bring herself to give a single damn. The Empress got what was coming for her. The colony Lara had been born into was gone, and she had been accepted into another. Greta was the Nurse, the healer who stopped what would have been death in it’s tracks. Gabriel was a Architect, a Peacemaker. A planner and mediator, calm and collected. And Piper was the Builder, the Greenie, the Grub, the Cleaner, and the Queen. The one who grew food, the protector, a Queen that ruled over her little colony the same as she cleaned the kitchen sink. She Built their hive with her own hands and Lara could never understand the complete disregard Terrans had for a caste system. Her hive was everything, and Lara was a Diplomat. The one who went outside and made deals, the one who was shunned so the others may remain safe. The larva at her side had begun making little rhythmic growling noises that Piper had referred to as ‘snoring’. It was a behavior, she explained, that some Terrans did while sleeping. Lara was the Diplomat of her colony, the only one. And by Ragaitor she would do her job. For the Queen. For the colony. For the hive.

3) Which OC makes you smile every time you think/talk about them and what are they like?

I don't believe I've mentioned my all time favorite OC on this, but -surprise- its a character I project onto heavily! He's a blond trans guy who's a little goblin and loves embroidery. He's an absolute piece of shit and the most loveable goofball.

Now, for Captain of the Blue Opal, it has got to be Clive. In theory, he's a bad guy. In practice, he's just some guy. Cherry is bullied relentlessly by his crew members for his name, which I believe is entirely unfair to Clay. I mean, Clyde is trying his best. (Sorry to all the Clowns out there. Your name ie valid)

4) What process of writing do you enjoy the most?

First draft, every time. Once I get into the swing of things, words flow and its easy. Its made easier if I plot things out but I find that duller than getting right to it!

5) What part of writing do you think you are the best at? (Yes stroke your own ego it's okay)

Oh no I need to talk about myself. Uhhhhhh... I'm really bad at that lmao. I think I'm good at dialogue. I've never had the issue where I had to figure out what a character was going to say in a given situation, because they just said that. I suppose that goes hand in hand with characterization but I've exceeded my one self-compliment yearly limit.

6) What is something in the writeblr community is most enjoyable?

Its an excuse to talk about my book to people who might actually listen. What's not to love?

7) A writing tool/device you use that helps you with writing? (It could be speech to text, a writing program etc)

Reedsy, Reedsy, Reedsy. Its a double edged sword, but its the sort of website that works super well with my nurodivergent brain. It lets you set goals and reminds you of said goals- both short term and long term. It's divided up into chapters and lets you put fancy scene breakers in. On the other hand, exporting your book in reedsy format is hell. You just can't do it easily. You want o take your book out so you can send it off to a publisher? Haha, if you're not going through Reedsy they're going to make it difficult.

8) A piece of worldbuilding that you like in your own story? (It could be the magic system, a particular place in the story, a law etc)

My Ruquati space alien culture. Their social structure is similar to hive insects, they have a strict caste system. Typically they are warm colors-- red and orange, though there are two exceptions. Greenies, who are in charge of tending to the plants. Their skin color is green because of a chemical they secrete- sort of a pesticide/sun lotion in one yk. Then of course we have blue Ruquati, which are typically seen as bad luck. Blue Ruquati aren't confined to a specific caste like Greenies. Any level could be born blue, at which point they'd be set at the bottom of their particular caste. Unfortunately for Lara, she got the quadruple middle finger (which is weird since Ruquati don't have a middle finger) from genetics, so she's a diplomat (lowest caste) AND blue.

Im trying to keep this short but then I realized if people got bored they'd have left by now... So here's a brief overview of the Ruquati social structure!!!

At the top is The Empress, the chief of hive minds and supreme ruler of the Ruquatin Empire. Hive minds, you might ask, simon, where did the hive minds come from?

Well, my dear friend, the hive mind is made up entirely by Queens, all controlled remotely by the Empress. They are capable of individual actions, just so the Empress doesn't have to waste thought on day to day matters of the colonies.

Architects are a bit harder to explain. In canon there isn't a lot of information on their behavior, seeing as if you get close enough to catch them, you've killed the hive. Architects die with their hive. Because I am the author, I can tell you they are the strategists, the military commanders. They plan battles and the size of the Ruquati Empire was entirely dependent on them. They are often referred to as the Peacemakers, not in the sense they will solve their problems diplomatically but in the sense they'll order the deaths of anyone who may "disturb the peace".

Beneath the Architects are the Builders, a job that is fairly self-explanatory. These Ruquati expand and repair the colony under orders from their Queen. In a warlike species who's only goals is expansion (gross oversimplification but i won't subject you to politics) the architects of that expansion are valued highly.

Then, of course, the Nurses. Unlike human nurses, who fix injuries, these Ruquati watch over the eggs, larva, and pupa of of the colony. Young Ruquati are entirely dependent upon the Nurses for their survival. Medics aren't so much a thing as it's very difficult to injure a Ruquati. Once an injury occurs, however, they are, for lack of a better term, absolutely screwed.

Next up, we've got Grubs, the soldiers. They can be sorted into three categories.

Queen's Guard

This is the one position a Ruquati is not born into. The strongest of all Grubs (common and others) are pulled aside for extra training to become the Guards for the Queen. The Queen's Guard. The guards that protect the Queen. Highest ranked of all Grubs, though still below everyone above. They eat a special specialized diet that makes them more aggressive, more territorial, and larger than the average Grub.

2. Grubs

These are the soldiers who fight foreign wars, sometimes halfway across the galaxy. They leave the hive so that the hive may remain strong, sacrificing so much for the colony. Least territorial, but incredibly aggressive.

3. Common Grubs

Common Grubs are the soldiers who stay behind to defend the colony. They are less aggressive then their mobile counterparts but much more territorial, bordering on Queen's Guard levels of territorial.

Then we've got "The Green Ones" or Greenies. They are distinguished from their fellow workers by the green tint to their skin. They are farmers growing a bioluminescent mushroom. Once harvested, it is the main food source for the Ruquati people. Before harvesting, however, they release deadly spores that can and will grow in Ruquati lung equivalents. The Greenies are immune to the spores because their bodies secrete a mucus the ensures spores do not enter the lungs. This mucus has a habit of dying Ruquati skin green, hence Greenies.

General Workers, another fairly self explanatory title. These people do the stuff higher ups can't be bothered with.

Cleaners, the ones who do the dirty work. They do the small, annoying tasks that nobody else will. They are respected, but are definitely considered lesser.

Drones are here to fuck and then they die. I can't elaborate beyond that because that's what they are. They are all about instant gratification (since they're going to die soon anyways) so they often make stupid impulsive decisions that endanger or even destroy the hive. Its happened too many times for Drones to be put into positions of power.

Now, for Diplomats. Yet another self-explanatory title Simon, love the creativity. They are considered the lowest of the low, because they are sent in when winning a war is not possible. For the most part, that doesn't happen. As a result, Diplomats have a tendency to be seen as useless cowards in Ruquati society. Ah, culture traumatizing those it deems unnecessary. How original! Diplomats are an evolutionary holdover from Before the Empress' Hivemind. Back then, warring queens often fought dirty, and fought dirty often. This all changed when the Empress created her hive mind, but this is veering dangerously close to political territory and I'd need several hours to properly explain the politics of Pre-Empress Ruquati Empire, Empress' Ruquati Empire, and Post-Empress Ruquati Empire. Which isn't actually relevant to my story haha. It be boring for everyone involved.

NOTES:

-Blue Ruquati are considered cursed and get sent to rock bottom of the caste they're already in. If a Queen is blue, she will be considered lesser than the other queens, though still above Builders. As a diplomat AND a blue Ruquati, Lara got the short end of all the sticks.

-Drones are technically lower than diplomats but Ruquati society at least recognizes them as having a use. Still, they are regarded with much suspicion. They attempt to seduce whatever Queen is nearby, have sex and then die. What a life.

-Castes were ranked in order of importance to Ruquati society. They value expansion, war and consider themselves superior to other species. (once again, gross oversimplification but c'est la vie or whatever)

-Most Ruquati stay in the hive their entire lives, except for diplomats, Queens, Queen's Guards and Grubs.

9) What piece of advice would you say to encourage others to write if they are having a rough patch?

For me, my blocks are mental. I have the time to write. Theoretically I have the ability to focus on the writing. If I just started, I'd be fine.

Sit down with the computer. Just open it up to your word processor of choice and sit in front of it. Listen to music, sit there, and stare at that document. Eventually you'll get bored enough to start writing.

Another tip that helped me: for your first draft, set word count goals. I'm not talking 1,000, 2,000 words every day, because even people with writing as their full time job can't do that. I'm talking sit down with the intent to write one sentence. One word, on bad days.

10) Tag some people whose works you love/have been your biggest

ohhhhhhh uh most of the people who inspire me are irl, but i'll mention them anyways. Pseudonyms obviously.

So, to my dearest Dad-Husband-Son-Family-Dog-And-Unlicensed-Nurse-Practitioner (one person), Sahara Wheatbrick, Luigi, Indigo, Duffin Dagels and of course, @coatlsaviator, thanks for the inspiration and support, as well as putting up with my insane rants.

Now for the Tumblr people, of which there are two (three if you count Mike' N' Ike, which I do.) haha. I'm not rlly integrated into the Tumblr ecosystem yet, but part of that is my unwillingness to talk to anyone and Good Old Fashioned Social Anxiety™

I would @ palebdot again but I think that's bad form on Tumblr and i don't want to sent them two notifs for the same post so... Thrilled to see where they're going.

And the Other Writers I Follow Who Seem Cool And Unapproachable to my Social Anxiety Whomst I Wish To Include In The QnA but Do Not Demand A Response From:

@caxycreations @sithbelle

You are mysterious and unknowable friends, Keep Up The Good Work

#long reads #long post #qna #new author #queer author #queer community #writerscommunity #writing #queer #time crystal quintet #writerblr #writer blog #writers #writer #I realized this probably should have been a reblog #But im on mobile and copy paste is hell #So enjoy it #science fiction #fiction

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meowdejavu · 8 months

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Can't believe the Foundation s2 finale had 50 twists and fake-outs but not the specific one I was hoping for!!!!!!

Like I honestly thought for sure that the first Cleon's backstory for Demerzel would turn out to be hugely false and biased from his pov, and we'd find out that she actually planted the idea of the genetic dynasty in his head from a young age and let him think it was all him.... And then she also let him believe he was modifying her programming to protect himself, but she'd totally have something up her sleeve there too, like some kind of built-in protection against certain programming mods or whatever? (The episode is literally called CREATION MYTHS??????)

To be fair, I'm not familiar with the source material, but gosh it felt like a missed opportunity to just be like "yes indeed, the 18K-year-old robot is technically an unwilling participant in all this, how unfortunate for her" when they could have twisted it to make Demerzel the orchestrator who played Cleon 1 like a damn fiddle so that she could rule the galaxy from the shadows!!!! Because of course she came up with a perfect plan when she had five thousand years to do nothing but think!!!!! Hello????

I did like the finale and really want to get a third season but WOW.....I'm mourning the arc that could have been.

#foundation #foundation apple tv #foundation spoilers #foundation meta #demerzel as the mastermind behind everything about cleon would have made me black out from sheer joy on the spot tbh #SIGH

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g0ttal0ve101 · 6 months

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Pretty

Note: mwahaha 😈…writing prompt week heheh. tw: self harm, implicated abuse

Prompt: Scars

Ship: Riam

████████████████████

Blood leaked from the broad bold letter carved into her flesh, dripping down the side of her thigh as a result. She watched intently as the blade dug further inside, pivoting with every curve of the alphabetic symbol.

It didn’t hurt as much as the first one. Her eyes locked in on the movements displayed in his fingers, clenching onto her sleeve as a result of the pain that coursed through her leg. Her expression remained motionless.

The more blood that spewed from her body, the merrier. Riley couldn’t help but smile when seeing the final product of his artwork, letting out an adoring sigh whenever he wiped away all the blood from her skin. More formed quicker than he could wash off, causing him to reach for the medical kit he had prepared beforehand. The smile on her face faded. She wanted to examine it for a little longer.

“It’s fine, Sam. Don’t bandage it up.”

“N-No, I have to.” He stammered, his eyes fixated on her precious skin. Obsession was a perfect way to describe his gaze. With pupils the size of black holes in the Milky Way galaxy, his attention was on nothing else but to stop the bleeding. Riley was flattered by the amount of compassion he had for her. “I made you h…urt…hurt.”

“Does it look like I’m hurt?” Riley questioned with a sly grin, planting her hands deep with Sam’s thick locks of hair. He washed it only twenty minutes beforehand, each strand still damp to the touch. It suddenly made sense why his hair wasn’t as fluffy and curly as it usually was. “That was nothing. I didn’t even flinch.”

That was true. Riley had gone through way harsher things, way more painful experiences, and yet Sam wanted nothing more than to continue the path of catering to her like a princess. He grabbed the disinfectant and carefully stroked her gaping wound, causing her to scrunch up her face. It stung like a bitch.

“I want it to scar, Sam. Stop that.”

“Uwah…but…!” His voice trembled for a moment before smoothing out again. “…Alright.”

Stabilizing his balance, Sam stood from the floor and grabbed the towel for his hair, trying his hardest to put his mind at ease. He scrubbed his head as Riley lovingly analyzed the signature without a care in the world. He knew how to use a damn knife, that’s for sure. Not a single hiccup in the cursive lettering.

With a sweet hum, Riley gripped the knife and twirled it around between each finger. “Have you ever seen my collection?”

The question was out of the blue. Sam tilted his head like a curious kitten and reproached the girl, this time sitting beside her with a slight frown. The freckles on his cheeks were absolutely adorable up close. “What collection?”

“My scar collection. I never showed you them all, have I?”

Before he could answer, she was already stripping off her shirt. His eyes practically bugged out of his head before straying away his eyes. “UWAH, R-R-R-R-!”

“Oh, quit it. You act like this is your first time seeing me shirtless.”

With covered eyes, Sam blushed profusely. “I don’t des…erve to. You’re so p-pr…p…”

Dropping the shirt onto the mattress, she got a hold of Sam’s wrists and yanked them downward so he could see. He was hesitant to examine her frame at first but after a few moments of awkward silence, he decided against fighting it. His ivy green eyes swept up and down her body, suddenly feeling lightheaded when realizing just how pretty she was. Riley wasn’t all too flustered at first but seeing the loving sparks in her boyfriend’s eyes, her stomach couldn’t help but float.

“Sam, you’re the only one I want to show. You’re the only one that would understand anyway…” She muttered, running her hands down the scars she had on her bare body. Sam could feel himself start to get worked up when imagining where they came from. “You gave me the prettiest one, haha…! All these other ones aren’t so sentimental.”

Rubbing his thumb against her collarbone, he spotted a scar that was unfamiliar compared to the other ones. A burn mark - Someone had snuffed the cherry of their cigarette on her. Sam couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Telling by the look on his face, Riley knew it was a good idea to change the subject off of that particular incident.

“What about you, Sammy? Do you have any scars?”

Those words caught him off guard. Hesitating, he nodded slowly while backing away. He figured he should follow her footsteps to assure her that she wasn’t alone. With a shaky start, he lifted his shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing the scarring he had. Riley’s eyes suddenly glow upon the realization that she had never seen him this way before. He was more built that she figured he would be.

“I’m th-the same way,” he assured her with a grin that showcased his dimples, “don’t feel bad about it. My arms are f-fucked up too. And look how b-big my top scars a…are. I don’t hold a candle up to you, Rie. You’re so p-p…p…p…you’re so p-…”

“Pretty?”

“Y-Yes…!” He squeaked, making himself smaller instinctively. Riley thought it was adorable. “Uwah, I’m n…not really nice t-to look at…”

Riley placed her hands against his chest, running her fingers along the scarring of his top surgery. Sam blushed heavily and watched her curiosity glisten. It was an innocent gaze of pure intent and wonder.

“These are so cool, Sam…! You shouldn’t hide them all the time!”

“Y-You think…so?”

“Yeah!”

A smile arose onto his lips as he avoided her kind eyes. “…Okay. I’ll keep that in m-mind.”

#oc: sam vega #friend’s oc: riley morgan #riam ❤️#wpw #GIGGLE

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worldcatlas · 10 months

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VOY: Caretaker (Part 1)

Just like its predecessor, Deep Space Nine, Voyager opens with an expository text crawl explaining the current galactic situation. We learn about the Maquis – a plucky, non-Federation rebel group fighting the Cardassian occupation – then jump right into a heated space battle!

Fire! Raise shields! And somebody turn off that damned smoke machine!

As one would expect from a ragtag group of resourceful underdogs, the Maquis wear mismatched outfits made for trouble; we’re introduced to Chakotay and B’Elanna, both sporting rolled-up sleeves and tough leather vests.

Forearms mean business.

Tuvok is here too, although we don’t get a good look at his outfit from any of the angles in this scene. Chakotay makes up for it, however, by giving us a bit of a catwalk look at his duds: the patterned shirt is lovely, and probably meant to evoke his Native American heritage.

Actually, this may be the least problematic reference to his “heritage.”

Next, we’re taken to a sunny, verdant New Zealand penal colony, where Captain Janeway is busy picking out a boy toy. Unsurprisingly, we’re working with the same Starfleet uniforms currently in use on DS9, with a coloured section on the shoulders indicating department, and a grey turtleneck with rank pips underneath.

Get used to it – Voyager won’t be receiving wardrobe updates for about the next seven years.

Janeway finds the man she’s looking for – the boyishly handsome Nick Locarno Tom Paris – and hands him a “get out of jail free” card in the form of an invitation to join her crew. Tom considers her offer, weighing the excitement of adventure against having to give up his stylish prison coverall; the garment is concrete grey, with subtle shade differences across the chest and shoulders, not unlike a Starfleet uniform. I appreciate the asymmetry of the dark grey extending down the left sleeve, but not the right. The flap closure at the front is a little bit sexy, too, and along with the rolled-up sleeves, gives a “greasemonkey” vibe we’ll come to see a lot of from Tom.

The ankle monitor makes a nice accessory, too.

Meanwhile, Voyager is docked at Deep Space Nine, and we cut to a character we all know and love: Quark! …In the process of ripping off young Harry Kim. Although Quark’s ensemble technically belongs to another show, I still have to award it “best outfit” for the episode. The matching teal hues in the pants, shirt, and jacket is a beautiful bit of coordination, and it’s obvious the costume department has had a few seasons to perfect the character design. It’s not unusual for a Ferengi to dress so lavishly, but Harry should probably take it as a warning sign that he’s about to be ripped off.

I’m sure he’ll be fine.

Up on the ship, Janeway has a chat with her fiancé Mark, who’s sporting a handsome wool-looking jacket in a dark mustard colour. Mark only gets about six lines and thirty seconds of screen time, so his outfit has to really pull its weight here building a character: handsome but approachable, smart but unpretentious, still shops at GAP in his 50s.

Sensible. I meant sensible.

There are no new costumes for a while as we meet the ship and crew, but we do get a few nice close-ups of Janeway’s lovely, elaborate updo – a more complicated style than the “bun of steel” she’ll wear in coming episodes.

Ignore the wig glue. It’s just… space sweat.

I suspect the stylist wanted all those extra swirlies in there because, once the action begins and our crew gets roughed up a bit, Action-Tousled Janeway looks amazing.

Slay, girl.

Harry and Tom go to sickbay, which is going to be full of patients very soon, and is also on fire. It’s hard to get a good look, but Harry puts on a cool Starfleet-issue oven mitt with metallic fabric to extinguish the fire.

Was that hole always there?

The least visible costume prop of all time.

In all the commotion, the crew realizes they’ve been zooped across the galaxy – 75,000 lightyears from home. But just when you thought we’d be stuck on a spaceship with one set of clothes for the next seventy years, we’re zooped again… to a southern country farm?! It looks exactly like Earth, and what looks like a perfectly human grandma comes out with cookies and lemonade to greet Janeway and co.

Floral fabric, ivory cameo, plate of cookies… yep, that’s a grandma.

She’s not alone, and soon the farm is full of completely “normal” “humans” having a good time, dancing and playing music. It’s literally the friendliest alien welcome party in history, but the Voyager crew are spooked. Moreover, they seem confused by the folksy straw hats and denim overalls.

Highly suspicious flannel.

With one exception: Tom Paris has quickly made friends with one of the illusory farm girls, a young woman in a cute printed dress with a belt, mary janes, and bright white ankle socks.

First contact: cottagecore edition.

However, Paris’ new friend gets a bit upset when they turn down her extremely tempting offers of a “real private” root cellar, a duck pond, and deviled eggs, and suddenly the farm folk aren’t so welcoming. The crew is zooped back to the ship – mostly. Harry Kim is missing.

Get outta here! And take your synthetic fabrics with you!

Discovering a similar absence on the Maquis ship – B’Elanna is also missing – the two crews decide to work together to track down their people.

As they discuss plans, we finally get a good look at Tuvok’s Maquis disguise: he wears a cropped, open jacket made from a textured brown-green fabric, with sleeves in a lovely deep blue. The trim between the different fabrics is subtly shiny, giving the impression of leather straps. More importantly though, he wears an orange shirt underneath that appears to be stained at the collar – is that greenish hue Vulcan blood??

What happened to you in the Maquis, Tuvok?!

The episode isn’t out of costumes for us yet, though, and it’s a hard pivot from the dirty, worn-in clothes of the Maquis – as the viewpoint switches to that of our missing crewmembers, we find them in white clothing that resembles hospital gowns, albeit with an awkward strap closure that goes all the way around the back.

You know that strap has come undone and dipped in the toilet at LEAST once.

We also get our first look at the Ocampa, who at the moment are also clad in white, gauzy outfits. Unlike the “patients,” they wear strange fruit-netting-ish infinity scarves around their neck and head.

Keeps their melon safe.

The mesh fabric looks like it might be some kind of protective gear, but no, as we explore more of the compound, we see the truth: Ocampans just don’t know how to wear a scarf.

So close…

#star trek #st voyager #ocampa

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oh-no-another-idea · 1 year

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Tagged by the brilliant @eccaiia and the clever @dogmomwrites and have found a mix of their words in my documents! Have some Stars and Ships, heavily featuring our disaster family Jax, Aaliyah, and Quin

True: (Quin POV)

There was a long whistle behind him. Jax was hanging out the door dressed in a blindingly red coat, sappy expression on his face. “Damn,” he said appreciatively.

Aaliyah caught him at it and gave a little twirl. Quin rolled his eyes.

“Do we have to do this out here?”

“Too true,” Jax said, grabbing the sleeve of Aaliyah’s periwinkle turtleneck and tugging. “Um, bad news, Aaliyah my beloved—”

Quin followed them into the front hall. “If it’s about the galaxy wide wanted posters, we know.”

Trick: (Aaliyah POV)

“You come here often, big eyes?”

Her companions groaned. “That’s the oldest trick in the book,” the burly woman complained, pushing her drink away. “Oldest trick in the galaxy,” the tall man agreed. “Sorry,” he said to Aaliyah.

“That’s okay,” Aaliyah said with a smile, conveying that it was very okay. She lingered, tilting her body towards their table. “What drink is that? I’ve never seen it before.”

The slender woman beamed. Her hair was shaved close to her head, and a thin tattoo was visible beneath it, crisscrossing her scalp. A ring hung from the side of her nose, and her bare shoulders were pale and freckled. “White wine,” she explained. “With hot pepper—it’s delicious, wanna try?”

Damn. Aaliyah most certainly did not. “Yes please,” she said shyly, looking up through her lashes.

Fire: (Quin POV)

At least Aaliyah hadn’t started a real barfight. The last time she’d been unleashed in a drinking establishment had ended with thrown pickles, electricity cables cut and sparking and lighting the place on fire, and Quin carried out on Jax’s shoulder. The whole experience was humiliating, no matter which way you looked at it.

Together: (Jax POV)

“I’m not leaving [Aakov] alone with Quin.”

“Aaliyah.” Jax pulled back enough to catch her iron gaze. “That’s very motherly and admirable of you. But they were already alone together. If Quin’s honor is gone, it’s been gone a while.”

Aaliyah shoved him away, the corners of her mouth twitching. “I mean he could try to murder him!”

Jax laughed out loud. “Yeah, he could’ve done that earlier too.”

No pressure tags for @linaket @morphaeus @ashirisu @averyauthorship @cherrybombfangirlwrites @asher-orion-writes @zmwrites @baroquesse @muddshadow @sleepyowlwrites and anyone else who’d like to look for violent, fist, murder, and black!

#tag games #find the word tag #wip: stars and ships

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360-ghosts · 8 months

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\long ass post about amber getting pranked and getting powers you were warned>

It was.. three, something AM. Amber, Buster- everyone, was asleep. Everything was peaceful- although. Something is.. odd. Because of that oddness, Milkyway slowly wakes up, yawning. A Jirachi waking up on it's own when it hasn't even been a thousand years would be a blessing, if it wasnt for Milkyway simply deciding to do that because it's already slept for three thousand years. It looked around, staring at Amber. She changed clothes, she must have woken up from her mini Phantumpa coma. Buster was protecting a small blanket-covered baby Mimikyu, and.. everything was, again, peaceful. Until Milkyway realized - something.. is written on their left tanzaku. They looked to it, yawning again and then gently plucking it off, a new one then appearing almost immediately with magic. It read the messy note - "tro ambr tru uldra zpece", it read. They attempted to make sense of it - Throw.. Amber.. through.. ultra.. space? They blinked, then smiling.

The Jirachinite Q on their back beginning to glow, along with their body. Amber, bothered by the glow, groaned, attempting to grab her glasses. Meanwhile that, Milkyway goes through an almost anime Magical Girl-esque transformation, their "wings" becoming longer, more akin to a scarf, the edges themselves like a Mimikyu's claws. Their "hair", becoming tad bits spikier, the triangles on the corners becoming bigger, and little blue spheres popping up on the tips of their, "hair". Their "bangs", becoming longer, thicker, blue hair bands wrapping around them, a purple gem appearing on their forehead, along with their eye markings forming stars, three triangles up and two down, like eyelashes. Their fingers, given a purple coloring, and the edge of their "sleeves" a yellow coloring, mixing with the galaxy patterns underneath. The star that rests at their chest, right above their chest's eye, gleaming brightly before disappearing as their chest's eye opened, the pupil being a bright, four-pointed star. Not that Amber saw anything, too damn bright. But the second she did look at them, their gleaming eyes, she took a quick second to process it. The light from the mega evolution faded away but they still gleamed, even if faintly. Before she could even speak, they grabbed onto her by the shirt's collar and then lifted her up, causing her to yelp and then teleported away.

She looked around - this was right about outside Mount Lanakila. "a" she said, before she heard a loud, terrifying noise. She looked behind her and would you look at that! Milkyway had just opened a Ultra Wormhole. She inhaled sharply before getting flinged into it by them, which they then followed behind, laughing as she screamed before falling onto a large wasteland, whining from how hard she hit the ground, before she forgot about her pain by paying attention to the loud, menacing footsteps approaching. She looked up in front of her, and oh, what a lovely Guzzlord! She inhaled sharply and just as it started roaring she began to scream, darting away as fast and far as she could. Thoughts raced through her mind - WHY would Milkyway do this?! But they were all cut short when she heard the beast yell out in agony. She looked back to the Guzzlord, then seeing a brightly lit Moonblast be shot at it, by.. Milkyway? 'THEY HAVE MOVES??' She thought, calmly. But then, after defeating the Guzzlord, Milkyway immediately looked to her, then dashing at her and picking her up, opening another Ultra Wormhole (the one they'd opened to get here was closed shortly after Amber arrived) and flinging her into it.

She tried to scream, but then landed on something-.. rough? Was it rock? Cobblestone? She felt around for a few quick seconds before realizing that no, it's neither, and it's moving! It's a Stakataka, and it's furiously trying to shake Amber off, to which it's replied with desperate screaming trying to cling onto it. It manages to successfully shake Amber off, seemingly to her death, probably, but then Milkyway, of course picked her up again, giggling. She was going to yell, before another Ultra Wormhole was going to open, the crack right there, their chest eye gleaming as they focused on it for a second, but the Stakataka then immediately attacked Milkyway, detecting a threat. Because of it's lack of focus, the Ultra Wormhole opened seemed kind of.. iffy, but looking at it, it was all they had, so in Amber went.

She landed on a rough, stoney kind of.. place. More like a cave. She groaned, shaking her head then getting up. Her PJs are all dirty now, but she's kind of only focused on surviving at this point. This place.. it was SO very dark, but.. she sighed, as her only option was to just try and get around. It didn't seem like any ultra beats were around, so she felt.. safe, here. As her eyes got adjusted to the location, she looked at a path in front of her. With no option, as the other path behind her seemed very well closed off from the outside, she walked forwards. This place.. it was creepy, and she'd just now noticed.. it seems there were people here. There are engravings on the floors, the walls, the ceilings.

She gulped, before she felt.. something. As if it was calling to her. She blinked, before she looked forward - it seemed to be coming exactly from that path. She sighed, stepping forward again, with little self regard, until she reached.. somewhere. It was like a small altar, ring engravings on the ancient stone, a halfway destroyed circle centered on the altar. In the middle of that circle, was a ring- more alike to a bracelet, but still. It was spinning - almost orbiting - around.. something. A small, tiny little star-shaped.. thing. It looks like a comet piece, but Amber can barely tell from how it glows brightly. She, as the dumbass she is, stepped forward, but the second she stepped foot onto that altar, the markings all over it, ancient runes, light up. Amber, noticing the sudden bright lights, panics, but not before she looks to the ring, watching it stop. She looked to the star, and it shot off at her, sticking itself to her chest, right above her heart, almost stabbing into it, cutting through the clothes. The groaned, in agony, as she fell to the ground. This wouldn't cause any harm in the long run, but DAMN it hurt. She looked up to the ring, only to see that it'd faded away, which she then felt.. something, on her arm. She looked to her wrist, then seeing the bracelet-like ring there. She blinked, confused, then looking to her other arm, seeing it there as well. Just now, it seemed this place was actually getting a lot clearer for her to see, but not before she felt as though all of her energy had faded away, and she just.. passed out.

[...]

She woke up in a jolt, looking around quickly. The place was very dimly lit, or so it seemed. Was it all.. a dream?.. one of those again?.. She looked down a little, and low and behold, there's Milkyway. Of fucking course. Every once in a while, they'd give her a particularly.. fun, dream, but none to this extent. She sighs, then mumbling "What am I going to do with you?.." and then gently pets them on the head.

Oh.

The ring's still there.

#\LMFAOOOO take a break and immediately drop an ao3 fic>#\sorry for the long post but tl;dr: milkyway mega evolves and opens several ultra wormholes to prank amber and amber finds the hyperspace-#-ring summon item and it basically latches onto her like a parasite and gives her powers in return for a stable power-supplying host>#\hooray!!!!>#long post #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #rotomblr #pokemon irl #irl pokemon #irl pkmn

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kariachi · 1 year

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Until I can write worldbuilding, consider this fluffy Osmobeast centaur au fic my holiday gift to you all. Not seasonal, but it involves baby pictures and these two being adorable both together and individually, so-

“Okay, here we go, oldest picture of me I still have.” It wasn’t a favorite, but after everything that had happened in his childhood, there were only so many things he had left from it all. A dozen or so pictures, some books, one of his dad’s watches. So even a picture he didn’t find particularly interesting was still worth showing off. Curled around him the way only somebody several hundred pounds larger than you could, arms draped around his shoulders and chin nestled between his antlers, Kevin cooed.

“You were so cute,” he said, “and it’s so weird seeing you not green.” Gar chuckled.

“Yeah, this was a ways before all of that.” He couldn’t have been more than a few months old, all spots and long legs and big eyes. It’d been taken in some lab or another, little fawn him settled in a taped off spot in a corner, dressed in bright purple underwear, a little see-through plastic lab blanket and coat, and fawn-sized safety goggles. He really had been adorable. “Don’t know why my parents went for see-through.”

“The spots are half the adorable of a fawn.”

“That answers that then.” Gar went to the next one- him a few years older, still pre-powers, still spotted, stood next to his dad and wearing a near exact replica of his outfit. Tall hoof boots, solid color leg wraps, a short blanket, long-sleeved button-up, and a vest with more pockets than someone his age would’ve ever known what to do with. Fuck, he was coming into his mid-twenties now and he still wouldn’t know what to do with them all. “These are all I’ve got of me before… everything. All the rest of them are just my parents or have me post-powers.” Kevin nodded, pressing a kiss to his hair as he moved on to one of his mom, stood laughing at the dinner table with a mug of coffee in her hand.

“They’re great pictures. Can see the start of how damn pretty you’d be in your parents.”

“Aww. Thanks, hun.” With a hum, Kevin shifted enough to get Gar to edge aside and let him stand up.

“One sec.” As he vanished off into the bedroom, Gar continued flipping through the pictures. With much purpose he slipped one into the ‘already shown’ section, hidden away. He was in the mood to share pictures, but not that one, of him in that brief period between knowing he wouldn’t die and getting the shapeshifter label. Not pretty nor pleasant to remember. The bang of Kevin pronking in the other room pulled him from bad memories- and wouldn’t the fact Kevin was over eight-hundred pounds and could pronk always amaze and delight him- turning to watch as he trotted over and settled back into place behind him.

“I have,” he said as they got back into position, voice quiet and soft, like he was sharing a secret, “one picture from when I was little. Was what I managed to grab when everything went... well.” Gar nodded his understanding, turning his head to rub an antler against Kevin’s cheek.

The presented image wasn’t- couldn’t have been- as old as Gar’s eldest had been, but it looked like it. Worn, folded, clearly exposed to the world and elements for years as Kevin had carried it with him through dimensions and across the galaxy. Still you could easily make out the focus. A mule deer doe, exhausted and exasperated, laid in a hospital room and robes. She had what was far too large to be anything but a moose calf- and Gar nearly flinched at the not-near-enough size differences of the people in the image- curled at her flank, with an array of spots in his russet fur and a blue band loose around one ankle. Worse for the poor mother, there was a second one- this one’s spotting much fainter- stood half on his sibling, a pink band around the ankle and pink bandaged wrapped firm around one wrist and hand.

“Guess the twin.” Kevin smile was clear in his tone and Gar couldn’t have stopped himself from matching it if he tried.

“Well,” he said, pointing at the first calf, “this one’s eyes look blue, so… Gonna guess you’re the one who already hurt himself.”

“Supposedly I managed twenty minutes before I found something to launch myself off in naïve excitement,” came the laughing response. “Eric was like you, he had those fawn genes where you could just put him somewhere and he’d stay put. I was the bad twin right out the womb.”

“None of that,” Gar said, elbowing him. “If you’re the bad twin none of us would’ve been able to meet the standards he’d have set.”

“If you say so, babe.”

“You were really cute though.” He had been, him and his brother both, with massive fluffy ears, miles of leg, and big bright eyes. “Almost want it framed.”

“You can frame this one and put it up, but only if I get to frame you in those little goggles.” Hmm. It was a tough call. Could it even be framed, with the state of it? Gar had no idea, and the idea of his own baby pictures on display was mildly embarrassing. But then, having nicer memories, ones from when things hadn’t gone to hell, hanging up where they didn’t have to go dig them up- That might be nice.

A bit of his heart melted and panicked in turn as the words ‘family photos’ crossed his brain.

“Remind me later, we’ll look into getting them done all nice and proper. If we grab one of us we can tie it all together, too.” Kevin practically purred into his hair, grip tightening, and the melting portion of his heart won out.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

#fanfic #love how i keep swtiching between uaf-compliant and ov_compliant in these things #this one leans more ov-compliant #these morons: holy fuck he was so cute as a fawn/calf #why yes the state of kevin is a callback to another fic #tiny!gar was fucking *adorable*#'pronking' in the proper term for when small deer and antelope just go straight up into the air #note the 'small'#a fucking moose should not be able to do that #but kevin has super strength #gar can do it do but that doesn't stop the disaster being delighted whenever kevin does it

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suau-projectmatriarch · 1 year

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Chapter 7: Remembrance

[TRIGGER WARNINGS: Mentions of Violence, Funerals, Mourning, Threats, Swearing]

Seconds, minutes, and days passed by painfully slow as the Gems organized a funeral plan for Steven. They had close to zero information, all they possessed was his bloodied gemstone, but it would have to work. Bismuth pushed all her projects off to the side and dedicated all her time, her resources, and her energy to creating a memorial for Steven. Pearl, Garnet, and Amethyst worked with Bismuth to hand-make a beautiful glass case containing a metal frame to hold Steven’s gemstone together. Close friends and family watched Greg and Connie closely. Sadie, her friends, and the Off-Colors stayed in Beach City to help out anywhere they could. They were all advised not to make his death public knowledge just yet. Only to tell people they knew for certain they could trust. None of them needed another warning, considering past experiences.

Before long, the day of the funeral came. The sky was darkened and dismal. The oceans roared and crashed against the sandy beachside, and gray clouds formed and twisted in the sky, heavy with rain as if the world itself was anguished with the murder of its beloved savior as its people were. But it would have taken the galaxy meeting oblivion face-to-face to hinder Steven's family and friends from going through with the commemoration. As everyone else was getting ready, Connie stood alone in the center of Steven’s room, her arms crossed over her chest, hugging herself tightly. The memories were flooding back to her like a tsunami, nearly knocking her out with the intense emotions attached to them. She could hear the faint call of Steven’s voice, distant, ringing in her ears like a blown-out speaker.

Connie’s eyes were darkened and empty, a shadow cast over her face. Her cheeks and nose were red and puffy, and her head throbbed with pain from crying. She felt like she had completely lost it: her mind, her will, her heart, everything. It was gone, and it wasn’t coming back. It had died alongside the person she loved the most.

Connie flinched a little when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Patricia, wearing an outfit similar to Connie’s. They both wore deep black clothing, close-toed shoes, and socks in preparation for the coming funeral dedicated in memoriam and respect to Steven. Patricia wore a long-sleeved high neck shirt, an ankle-length skirt, and a black hijab, while Connie donned a simple, collared, knee-length dress with a dark ribbon around the waist and elbow-length sleeves. Although, she was fighting the urge to wrap one of Steven’s jackets around herself, to mimic at least a semblance of his embrace and warmth. Steven always hugged Connie when she was sad or cold. At that moment, she was freezing and torn to shreds. But she knew she would never be wrapped in his arms again and that it was foolish to hope for it. But stars be damned if she did not miss him and need him so much it physically hurt.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Connie?” Patricia asked with concern in her voice. She was also upset at losing one of her closest friends, but she knew Connie had taken his death hard. Connie was his partner after all. And Patricia was worried that the funeral would be even harder.

Connie sighed then turned her head to meet Patricia’s worried gaze with her lifeless one, attempting a composed facade.

“I have to, Patricia.” Connie said finally with a broken voice.

Patricia wasn’t convinced, but she decided not to fight it. Patricia retracted her hand but immediately hugged Connie tightly afterward. Priyanka gently knocked on the door with Daniel at her side to announce her presence. They wore similar attire to Connie and Patricia’s clothing, and both Priyanka and Daniel seemed just as worried as Patricia was for Connie’s wellbeing.

“They’re waiting for you downstairs, honey.” Patricia spoke gently, giving Connie a warm, reassuring, yet concerned expression once Connie turned around to face her. Connie glanced over to Daniel, then looked back up at her mother. With a deep breath, she nodded.

“Okay. I’m ready.” Connie said, but even she did not sound convinced. She rubbed her eyes, then walked over to Priyanka and Daniel. Priyanka put a hand on Connie’s shoulder, while Patricia squeezed her hand in a gesture of reassurance.

Connie led the small group down the stairs, glancing over at the small crowd in the living room. Greg and the Crystal Gems were huddled around the coffee table, all wearing funeral attire. Black suits, dresses, pantsuits, paired with close-toed shoes. Garnet wasn’t wearing her visor, and neither was Peridot. Greg was sitting in the center of the couch, clutching the intricate glass case that held Steven’s gemstone, which had been pieced back together, held in place in a gorgeous hand-crafted silver frame that Bismuth had created. Greg’s hands were trembling, and he was trying to fight the tears threatening to well up in his eyes. He looked about as worse for wear as Connie and the gems did. Amethyst was at his side with a hand on his shoulder, and Pearl was standing at his other side with her eyes askance and downcast.

Greg looked up, his eyes meeting Connie’s broken torn and anxious expression. The Gems soon followed his gaze, looking up at Connie, standing on the stairs with Daniel, Patricia, and Priyanka beside her. Daniel looked out the large window near the staircase, seeing all the townsfolk crowded at the shore waiting for them. Close friends, new friends, complete strangers, and former enemies stood at the shoreline. Hell, every gem and every human that could attend the funeral was there, except the Diamonds. They were advised to stay in their palace and watch the broadcast instead, due to the possibility of their powers affecting everyone else. As well as other more personal reasons Steven’s family would rather not discuss with the Diamonds.

“I’m pretty sure everybody that can be here is here,” Daniel said, glancing over at Connie and Greg. Amethyst wandered over to the screen door, pressing her palms against the glass. With a sigh, she nodded, turning to Garnet. Priyanka put a hand on Greg’s shoulder while Amethyst walked over to Pearl, helping her up off the couch. All of the gems still had cracking on their bodies, but they were able to manage a somewhat stable form. But it was clear that trying to keep their light-composed forms from poofing was an extremely difficult task.

Holding her mother’s hand tightly, Connie was the first to step outside Steven and Greg’s home. She led Priyanka, the Gems, and Greg down the hill to the shoreline. Near the edge of the crashing waves was a small stone statue of Steven covered in vines and flowers. Bismuth had carved a hole into the hands of the statue to hold his gemstone encased in glass and silver. Everyone had surrounded the memorial with flowers, framed photos of him, his family, and friends, some of his personal belongings, and the gifts he had given to his family before the road trip on his 17th birthday. A gesture of reassurance, love, and respect to the ones who raised and protected him even at his darkest moments.

Nearby the statue, the Gems had set up seating arrangements for the attendants. And with the help of Sour Cream, a speaker and microphone was also placed near the statue so the family could speak clearly to everyone. Unfortunately, the Gems had sorely underestimated the number of people who planned to be there. But the visitors didn’t mind. Instead, they sat in the sand without complaint in respecting silence. Everyone directed their attention to the grieving family as they made their way down the split in the crowd in pairs of two, holding hands. Daniel and Patricia sat down near the front, keeping a close eye on Connie. Patricia couldn’t help but note all of the guards. Agates, quartzes, fusions, you name it, they were there.

Lapis lazuli’s were stationed beside the guards, holding back the rainwater and the ocean. Among the Lapis Lazuli were the two who had fought against Lapis and Steven. One Lapis was fighting tears and shaking violently, whilst the other had better composure. But it was evident she was grieving as well. Steven never gave up on either of them, even when they attacked him and his friends and tried to destroy a planet he was trying to save. They owed him a lot. More than either of them were willing to admit.

Each Gem, Connie, and Greg stood near the statue, forming a line. One by one, they stepped forward, taking one last glimpse at Steven’s gemstone before sitting beside the statue in front of the flowers and belongings. Peridot sat next to Lapis, Pearl sat next to Amethyst, Bismuth sat next to Garnet, and Connie sat next to Priyanka.

Greg gently placed the glass casing in the hands of the statue, staring at it for a moment, cupping his hands around the stone ones, shaking. After a moment, he rubbed tears from his eyes, whispered one final apology and goodbye, then finally managed to walk away from the statue and to the microphone stand. Blue Pearl set up a holo screen that projected the ceremony across the earth and galaxy. But she made sure to keep a distance from the group to be respectful. Greg wasn't keen on broadcasting his son's funeral, but it wasn't just a funeral. It was a warning to his enemies. A call to their allies. They wanted whoever killed him, so they could pay for their unforgivable actions. A statement made, and a message to the people that they had lost the one who saved them, the one who did not deserve to be slaughtered.

“Thank you, to everyone here. To everyone listening. I know this isn’t easy to witness.” Greg spoke with a shaky voice, trying desperately to keep himself together.

“Steven would have wanted to say goodbye to you all at least one last time. As much as we will love and miss him, he will love and miss us just as much, if not, more. His gemstone will not be buried here, but kept and guarded closely in the Diamond Palace instead. But for this ceremony, his gem will be inside the statue that Bismuth made.”

Greg gestured over to Bismuth with a nod as he spoke. Bismuth gave him a small, grateful smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Greg turned back to the microphone, glancing down at the little cards Priyanka, Peridot, and Garnet wrote down for him.

“Each of us will be giving a speech. After which, Steven’s gem will be relocated in the room dedicated to protecting it. If you wish to leave any parting gifts beside his statue, it would be greatly appreciated. Thank you all, again.” Greg looked up and gave everyone a small, broken smile. Mostly everyone had already placed something beside the statue, but a few townspeople, including gems, stood up to place a flower or two near the stone figure.

There was a moment of tense silence when a familiar, small pink gem stood up and walked down to the statue, placing a large pink carnation at the feet of the sculpture. It was Spinel, one of Steven’s greatest enemies. Lapis tensed up, grinding her teeth and glaring at Spinel as she walked closer. Everyone else was tense as well. Peridot placed a hand on Lapis’ shoulder, giving her an expression that said, “Please don’t.” Bismuth and Pearl did the same for Garnet, who had curled her fingers into tight, quivering fists and gritted her teeth. She knew there was no use in senseless violence, but seeing that horrid reminder of one of her worst memories made it a struggle. Although the others would be lying if they said they weren’t struggling as well.

They all knew why Spinel was here. She was here in place of the Diamonds. She wore a dark dress with the Diamond emblem embroidered on the back. While it was undeniable that Spinel had gotten much better, everyone was still on guard around her. Especially since she was walking around with the diamond emblem so bravely presented during Steven's funeral. Yet she wasn't wearing it of her own accord. Some part of her hated it too. But nowadays, she trusted the diamonds and wanted to show her loyalty to the ones who took her in as one of their own.

Spinel stood in front of the stone statue with her left hand folded over her right, resting on the front of her skirt. She lowered her head and closed her eyes for a moment, muttering something under her breath before turning around, hurrying back to her spot next to the Yellow Agate guard in the back corner, trying to disregard the awkward, piercing stares from everyone else.

The gem behind Spinel walked up to place flowers at the memorial; was Nephrite. The very same Nephrite that Steven tried to heal when he was young, Centi. The name Centi was a name she wore with pride and joy. She carefully sat down on her knees, gently placing a bouquet of gladioli flowers near all the other flowers. There was a variety and abundance of flowers. Carnations, chrysanthemums, orchids, and hydrangeas. The unspoken rule, however, was that no one was allowed to place a rose near his memorial. Flowers of varying colors, shapes, and sizes were among the bouquets, but not one single rose was in sight.

Centi placed her hands in her lap, staring at the cracked pink gemstone in the hands of the carved stone. She lowered her head, closing her eye for a moment. She muttered a few words before standing up, blinking away a tear forming in her eye. Another nephrite, Centi’s co-pilot, Nephie, walked up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. Drawing a deep breath, Centi placed her hand on her co-pilot’s. She glanced over at Peridot, who gave her a weak, sad smile in return.

Taking Centi’s hand, Nephie led her commander back to their seating arrangements. As the last of the gems and humans placed their parting gifts and took their time to say goodbye, Greg stood up and walked over to the microphone. He took a deep breath, reading the papers in his hands before speaking once more.

Steven groaned, clenching his teeth as he slowly opened his eyes. He was met with a dim, flickering white ceiling light. The room was silent and eerie, and his shaking body was achy and weak. And he felt an intense, sinking empty feeling clawing at his chest, making him nauseous. The pain in his stomach didn’t exactly help with the nausea or fatigue. He glanced around, scanning his surroundings as some memories slowly drifted back to him. Right, still stuck in this glorified prison cell. Unfortunately the events that transpired weren’t a nightmare. There was a buzzing in his ears, followed by the faint beep of the patient monitor. Steven didn’t even have the energy to panic again. His head was throbbing, his eyes red and puffy, everything hurt, and he was completely drained, mentally and physically.

“Steven? You awake?”

A familiar voice called out to Steven, his voice. He squinted, his vision blurring a little. He squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips. He didn’t have the energy to be shocked or confused either, even at hearing his own voice talking to him.

“Ugh… Sort of.” Steven grumbled, almost incoherent with another pained grunt. He wrapped an arm around his stomach, rubbing his eyes with the other as he tried to wake himself up.

“Trust me, you aren’t the only one.”

Hearing the voice again, it suddenly clicked. Steven paused and blinked, his hand hovering over his wide eyes for a moment before he quickly propped himself up on his elbows. He nearly had a heart attack when his eyes were met with piercing diamond ones. He stared at the pink figure in front of him, his frazzled, probably still sedative overdosed mind trying to decipher what he was seeing.

“... Nora?” Steven said with confusion in his voice, slurring his words a little. His sentence seemed to be more of a question than a statement.

Nora blinked, staring at his human half with perplexion and slight concern. He glanced over at the patient monitor, then looked back at Steven.

“Did you forget about me already? I’m hurt.” Nora snarked with a raised brow, cracking a small amused smile after giving Steven a mock pout. It was obvious Nora was being sarcastic, but Steven immediately panicked, shaking his hands dismissively with a guilty look on his face.

“W-Wait! No! I-I’m sorry, I-I just-” Steven was interrupted by a chuckle from Nora.

“Relax, it’s okay. I’m just messing with you.” Nora reassured with another amused smirk, crossing his arms as he leaned against the metal frame behind him. He was sitting cross-legged, facing Steven at the foot of the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Nora asked, his smile fading, his expression morphing into one of worry. As much as he wanted to try and lighten the mood, he couldn’t help but be concerned.

“I’ve… Been better. But, I’m alive, right?” Steven said with a nervous laugh, sitting up straight. Pulling his legs up to his chest, Steven hugged his legs close, resting his chin on his knees. Nora sighed a little and nodded, recognizing Steven’s posture as an anxious, defensive one. Steven was chewing at his bottom lip too, which was never a good sign.

“Yeah, I figured… Don’t chew your lip, you’ll make yourself bleed again.” Nora commanded sternly with furrowed brows. Nora had good intentions, but unlike his human half, he was very intimidating and standoffish. Even when he didn’t mean to be. Steven gulped, nodding a little as he tried to fight the urge to fidget again.

There was a short moment of tense silence between the both of them before Steven finally spoke up.

“What about you?” Steven asked, looking up at his Gem half. Nora blinked in confusion once more, arching a brow.

“What about me?”

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t see why that’s impor-” Nora cut himself off, seeing the pouty glare Steven was giving him. Nora didn’t need him to speak his mind to know what he was thinking, or feeling.

“...I mean, I’m fine. It’s kinda tough to hurt me anyway.” Nora said with a shrug.

“That’s true. But-” Steven was interrupted by a loud metal clang of the room’s door opening. Steven gasped and flinched as if he heard a gunshot, his eyes stretching open wide in horror when he saw who was behind Nora. Nora whipped his head around, following Steven’s gaze. Nora immediately scowled, his joy and gentleness rapidly switching into violent animosity as he growled and shot a ruthless glare at the people standing in the doorway.

It was Black Diamond, Azure, and the same woman from before, the officer that looked identical to Black. Somehow, she looked even more terrified and broken than when Nora saw her in the observation room. Azure seemed to be as scared as the smaller woman was. Their eyes were wide, their arms crossed, their body trembling.

“What the hell do you want now?” Nora hissed, his eyes glowing menacingly as Black Diamond glared right back at him. Nora shifted his gaze to the large radio in Black Diamond’s hand, confusion overriding his seething hatred for only a moment before Black Diamond spoke.

“I have a little surprise for the both of you. Want to see?”

Steven looked over at Nora with a terrified look in his eyes. Nora and Steven’s answer was already obvious, but so was Black Diamond’s intentions. She was going to show them whether they wanted her to or not.

Steven shuffled backward as Black Diamond took a few steps forward. Nora did the same, watching Black like a hawk as she got closer. He could feel Steven shaking behind him. And it only pissed him off even more. The patient monitor’s beeping grew more and more rapid as Black Diamond got closer and closer. Azure raised their head, a worried expression on their face when they heard the quickened beeping. But they didn’t dare move or speak out of line so close to their commander.

Black Diamond placed the radio in front of Nora, who was still scowling at her, seconds away from tearing out her spine. She reached down, pressing the power button. Blaring static rang throughout the room, making Steven flinch again and clasp his hands over his ears. Black Diamond turned the dial, the static noise shifting and distorting until it started to sound like a voice. A very familiar voice. Greg’s voice. Steven and Nora both froze, hearing the voice of their father, his tone soaked in despair.

Black Diamond grinned with a tilt of her head when she saw their expressions. Turning another dial, she raised the volume of the broadcast. Greg’s voice distorted and glitched out now and then, but they could still make out what he was saying, if just barely.

“I-I still remember the day Steven was given the opportunity to move in with the Crystal Gems. He was so excited that day, and from that day forward until he moved, it was all he could think about. Picked up the ukulele faster than I could teach him and w-wrote a whole song for them and everything. And the day he showed me his p-powers that he had finally mastered, each and every accomplishment on every mission, a-all of his friends… Couldn’t stop talking about it, he was so proud of himself and he was so happy. I could have listened to him ramble for hours.”

Nora and Steven could hear the dejected smile in their father’s voice, but they could also hear the absolute devastation. Steven looked up at Black Diamond, confused, panicked, and frozen with fear. Black met his gaze, and a cold chill ran down his spine. There was something about her eyes that made him feel sick from a kind of alarm he had only felt a few times before. Steven has faced fear, death, and worse when he was younger. He had even grown accustomed and completely numb to it. But the expression and the presence of this woman alone awakened a kind of terror Steven had not felt in a very long time.

Static hissed through the radio speaker, Greg’s glitched and distorted voice breaking through it.

“Ever since then, he worked himself to the bone. S-Saved Earth, saved the galaxy, even saved the people who didn’t d-deserve it. I knew he was going to be strong, but I’m sure he impressed all of us with the feats he managed to accomplish. I-I just wish that I could have been there to save him …”

It was evident that Greg was trying not to cry. His voice was shaking, he was stuttering, and it only became more and more difficult not to break down. They heard him take a deep, trembling breath before continuing.

“This morning, W-White Diamond called for a meeting at her palace. She had found my son’s sh-shattered gem in her old throne room. C-Covered in his blood, s-smashed to pieces l-lying on the f-floor.”

There was a moment of silence as Greg tried to compose himself, his breath hitching. Steven could see it now, his father standing there with tears running down his face like waterfalls. But his mind had no time to process that image before something clicked. Steven’s eyes stretched open wide as he stared at Nora with pure shock and terror. Nora turned his head to face Steven. Nora seemed as surprised and panicked as his human half was, if not more so.

“What… But-” Nora began, but was immediately interrupted by the radio broadcast.

“Steven has a-always been a good kid. Kind, thoughtful, s-strong, determined, brave, empathetic, a-and so much more... Even while fighting m-monsters of his own. After everything he went through, he put others first, even when it broke him. He didn’t deserve to die like this.”

Greg’s voice cracked as a broken sob escaped him followed by more static hissing from the radio. Nora and Steven could only stare at the radio with wide, panic-stricken eyes. They heard another distorted deep breath, then Greg continued.

“We don’t know who hurt him yet. But we need your help to find them. We need to find them and make them pay .” Greg spoke with desperation and anger in his voice.

Black Diamond held in a laugh, glancing at Azure and the woman behind her. Azure had cracks spreading throughout their body, and they couldn’t look Black Diamond in the eye. The woman gave Black Diamond an unnerved look, still shaking as much as Azure was.

“Oh, come on. It’s a little funny.” Black Diamond said with an amused smile. Nora was shaking with pure rage, while Steven was frozen statue-still in horror with a thousand questions racing through his head. The woman lowered her head again with a defeated expression. Black Diamond turned to Nora, her eyes glimmering with malice as she returned his murderous expression with a glare, still smiling. There was a distorted shuffling noise and incoherent conversations from the radio before another familiar voice spoke after a long, tense pause and another shaky breath.

“I-I remember the first time I met Steven. H-He was trying to ride a bike. Yes, in the sand…” Connie said sadly with a small chuckle. When Steven heard her voice, he finally snapped out of his trance and gasped, tears streaming down his face.

“Conni-” Steven exclaimed, but was cut off by Black Diamond switching off the radio with an audible click. He flinched once more when he heard the noise, and looked up at the looming death in front of him. He clenched his teeth, trembling. He wanted to scream, to yell, to fight, but he couldn’t move. Black Diamond rested her chin on her hand, smirking like the cat that ate the canary. Nora finally snapped out of his rage-induced catalepsy, his eyes blazing bright pink as the floor cracked and the machines malfunctioned under the sheer pressure of his hate. But before he could say or do anything, Steven grabbed his wrist, trembling.

“Nora. Don’t. Please.” Steven pleaded, the panic in his wide eyes made Nora stop immediately, his vicious scowl switching to a worried look. Steven slowly shook his head and whisper-begged the words “Please don’t.” Nora stared at his horrified human half, pink tears welling up in his eyes.

“Listen to your little pet, Matriarch. You have no power here.” Black Diamond commented with a snarky tone.

“They’ll come for you, Black. They will tear this place apart. And after, I will tear you apart.” Nora growled, his manic, fuming eyes meeting Black Diamond’s half-lidded gaze that was brimming with pride. His voice echoed and reverberated throughout the room, the walls and the floor cracking under the pressure. Black Diamond held in another chuckle and leaned over, resting her forearms against the frame at the foot of the hospital bed. She glared right back at Nora once again, her words soaked with venom.

“Don’t worry about us, we’ll be just fine.” Black Diamond reassured with a smug expression and a cocky, leering tone. It was clear she was enjoying making Nora uncontrollably enraged.

“They won’t find this place, Matriarch. We’re tucked away in the corner of the galaxy on a looong forgotten planet. And I know better than to not have tricks up my sleeve. My favorite diamond has such little faith in me?” Black Diamond mocked, arching a brow, her smile making Steven’s stomach churn. Steven held onto Nora’s arm in a silent gesture of reassurance, trying to keep him from doing something that they both would regret.

“Maybe HD-023 isn’t the pet after all. He’s got you leashed like a dog .” Black leered again as she insulted Nora with another sick grin.

“Don’t fucking call him that you insufferable-” Nora began, jerking forward with the intention of lunging and shredding Black Diamond into chunks of gore. But he was interrupted by Steven, who held onto his arm and raised his voice, glaring at Black Diamond.

“L-Leave us alone.” Steven demanded with shaking, stuttering words. Black Diamond’s eyes roved over Steven for a moment before she held in another laugh. She stood up, curling her fingers around the handle of the radio before picking it up and swinging it like a purse as she turned to walk out of the room.

“I’ve had enough fun with them. Lock them up, we have work to do.” Black Diamond ordered, giving Azure a disgusted look. Azure flinched and trembled in response. They nodded hastily, saluting Black Diamond with a diamond salute as Black walked out of the room, taking the radio that Black shoved into their chest.

Azure paused just before closing the door, turning to Steven and Nora. Nora shot daggers at them with his expression as soon as she turned around.

“I’m sorry.” Azure whispered, blue tears welling up in their eyes. Steven looked confused, his eyes widening in surprise as he looked up at them. But Nora was having none of it.

“Get the fuck out.” Nora growled, making Azure flinch once more and hurry out of the door, securing it closed behind them with another loud metal clang.

“Nora…” Steven began, but paused when Nora turned around to face him. Nora was completely irate, with wide eyes, furrowed brows, and bared teeth. Steven gulped. He was scared, but he knew deep down that Nora wouldn’t hurt him. He took a deep breath before returning Nora’s furious expression with a warm, worried one.

“B-Breathe, buddy.” Steven ushered, enunciating his words with a squeeze of his hands around Nora’s arm. Nora gave a forceful sigh, his haggard breathing evening out as the rage turned to shame and fear. As much as he hated Black Diamond, scaring his human half would break him completely, and he had a sinking feeling in his gem hearing fear in Steven’s voice.

“... I could tell you the same thing,” Nora muttered with a guilty look on his face. Steven shrugged with a “that’s fair” expression. He was still shaky and huddled up in a defensive position, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared, upset, and angry too.

“I’m sorry,” Nora admitted with a heavy heart, looking Steven in the eyes. Shame, worry, and defeat was written all over his pale pink face.

“Me too.” Steven mumbled in defeat as he lowered his head, tears in his eyes. Nora shook his head, the feeling of guilt and shame building, nearly cracking him. He quickly reached forward and pulled Steven into another tight hug.

“You don’t have to apologize, I’m not angry at you. And I’m gonna get us out of here. I promise .”

Nora reassured, enunciating his last words by hugging Steven just a little bit tighter. Steven hugged him back wordlessly, taking another deep, shaking breath in an attempt to calm himself. They couldn’t give up, they had to fight this together and stay positive.. It was the only way they would persevere and survive.

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