#galactic replies

[enaelyork]

what are your headcanons for dating Tarkin?

Mouahaha that's crazy. Maybe i'm the only one to do this in tumblr but how it's possible that nobody thought about it before ?

✨Imperial ask are open ✨

✨MASTERLIST ✨

[DATING TARKIN - HEADCANON]

🌔It is not very easy to approach Tarkin. If you did, and there was interest in it, then you are part of the political elite. You are undoubtedly the daughter of a great politician or a renowned officer. You are something quite exceptional, combining cold beauty with great intelligence.

🌔He hates futility. You are not. There are probably other women before you who have tried to circle around him, but he saw nothing but pure interest and frivolity. The fact that you behaved with him the same way you would with anyone when you first met worked in your favor.

🌔Tarkin is a glacier. He will not show any gesture of affection towards you but will welcome yours without complaining. A simple caress on his cheek or the fact that you climb into his lap when he sits at his desk thinking could be enough to melt the ice.

🌔“I love you” is not part of his vocabulary. Not even a single tender nickname will come out of his mouth. Tarkin will show his affection by accepting your presence in times when he is isolated or by letting you take part in family rituals on Eriadu.

🌔Unmaterialistic, he does not see the point of offering you anything. However, if he does it – and it will always be for a useful reason – he will never offer it to you directly. He will arrange for the gift to be left in your room or delivered by a soldier. This prevents him from your outpourings of joy which he often finds disproportionate.

🌔He rarely accompanies you in public. Your meetings are often clandestine. In the shade of a candle in his private apartments where he has the best meals brought to him. Tarkin preserves his privacy and is aware that your relationship can have an impact on himself and the way he reacts. He considers you his main weakness.

🌔And that’s probably the best compliment we can give you.

🌔Tarkin can be jealous and possessive towards you. He might have a hard time seeing that other officers are lusting after you. Perhaps this idea will even end up convincing him that he must marry you, even if it means taking the risk of revealing his weak point to the entire galaxy.

🌔In principle, he is always right. You prefer to laugh about it because nothing can change his mind. You understood that each decision had to come from him to be accepted and you learned to use your charms to achieve your ends.

🌔It is difficult for him to comfort you when you are in distress. Tarkin excludes all forms of weakness, including when they come from you. He might sometimes be aggressive because he doesn't know how to deal with your pain. But quickly, he will make up for it by offering you a moment of relaxation somewhere or simply by staying by your side to encourage you to bravely face these trials.

🌔Don't expect him to apologize to you during an argument. He will do it in a deflected way by being softer with you. Maybe even in this kind of situation he could do something for you that would be akin to romance. But do not exaggerate, it will be nothing mushy.

🌔Contrary to what one might believe. Tarkin is extremely loyal to you. Loyalty is something that is close to his heart and in this area you are tied with the Emperor. He will never give in to the seductive parades of other women as long as he shares your life. Even if your relationship is secret.

🌔Although he lets you suppose otherwise, he takes into account what you say to him and criticizes him. You've caught him several times trying to work on some of his unpleasant attitudes just to please you. You don't have to try to thank him, for fear that he will get offended and turn away. But you found it adorable.

🌔He's a busy man. The little free time he has, he tries to spend with you. You are not safe from a furtive visit to your office or apartments. In these rushed moments, Tarkin can be very demonstrative, kissing you without even exchanging a word with you. The force of your frolics at these moments reveals that he is very upset.

🌔You often hear about Orson Krennic being blamed for almost all of his troubles. Moreover, you develop a deep hatred towards him and a touch of jealousy tickles you every time Tarkin mentions him. You have the impression that he obsesses him more than you and that is a valid reason to wish him dead.

[askbensolo]

Inspired by an argument Rey and Dad were having in the family group chat:

Bonus answer from Mom: “Whatever you like, sweetie, I’ll still love you. Even if you try to grow facial hair again, Force forbid”

[randomnameless]

To continue the woobified view of the Elites and my comparison of them to the Black Eagles :

Same for me regarding the BE, especially because they also literally fought Edelgard's troops in WC when you choose their house, and even if you don't, they definitely still would know that Edelgard dus nasty shits in WC.

The idea that media literacy is dead is quite fitting, because the idea that even rotten persons have loved ones/that having loved ones doesn't mean you're not rotten is a known thing, yet the Eagles and elites get a pass solely because "they genuinely believe in the cause" and "they love and care for each other"

Probably Fraldarius was as devoted to Nemesis as Ingrid to Dimitri, Lamine very well may have been as sassy as Dorothea, perhaps Goneril was as brave and endearing as Caspar, or Maurice was as loyal to his clan's interests as Petra to Brigid's happiness (through a strong bond to the Empire) but like the BE, they are butchers, who relished in the destruction of everything those against them hold dear, lap dogs and rabid curs of someone they definitely know have crushed innocents and scorn the very idea of peace except under their domination.

The only meaningful difference between Edelgard-following BE and the elites is that we can know more about the BE and we are forced to dislike cutting them down even as they refuse to let northern Fódlan alone.

Honestly I need a fanfiction where the BE are called out for that bullshit.

Yep!

That's the tone deaf feeling I got from Nopes, the Deers are hunting someone bcs their leader wants her dead for no reason, but Raph only comments on how hungry he is.

Uh, sure Raph, you're not the most thoughtful character in there, but come on? Some commentary or exposition on what you're doing? Hello KT? Can we have characters be challenged or even react to the events of screen instead of wondering what's for dinner/teatime?

No??

I wouldn't say it's an issue of media litteracy being dead, but more something in the lines of people being more and more "all or nothing" nowadays, without any nuance and conflating liking a character with the idea/image that might project on you : if I like ASOIAF's Cersei, I don't think everything she does is "justified", but modern fandom, I feel like some people would categorize you as a "good" or "bad" person based on the characters you like, and it's just... not what fandom is or was supposed to be imo, I'm here to nerd and gush about favourite characters, not write litteral essays about the Geneva Convention.

Corollary is what, imo, made the Fodlan fandom hell : some people really take "criticism" against a character personally - sure the way FE16 was written invites projection, but at the end of the day, making a Berning Fire Joke is, just, making a joke about a bunch of pixels, nothing more.

Back to the BEs, they can have a sense of camaraderie and genuinely support each other... as they tear apart "people because Supreme Leader told me to" and fight side by side with Bob the Carpented who was turned into Waldi the demonic beast.

Ferdie can skewer Flayn on her father's lance because she is "a creature that has plagued humanity for ages" even if they reached a C support before shit hit the fan - and still protect Mercedes and Bernie from their abusing Fathers. Does that make him a great guy? A nuanced guy?

I think the trope is called "even evil people have loved ones" or something like that?

I don't think so, but he is no random one note villain sycophant either - now, what is the more annoying with the Fodlan games is how this dichotomy is never called upon : everything is just a giant blob or Hresvelg Grey ("morally grey" but only applied to Supreme Leader) where no one really is angry at her, and all the "sacrifices" she's making are off-screen while the characters on-screen always moan about her "ReFoRmS" and "IdEaLs" without talking about the cost bar some milquetoast "but war bad". And no one, in the game, will ever throw this hypocrisy to their face - Gallant Ferdinand will dream about the Opera as he wipes off the blood of a young woman who just wanted to return to the only home she had.

Yay.

FWIW, some mutuals and I have nothing but pure lols about Doro's line in the non-CF routes being "we killed Ferdie professor :'(" because, hey, why should I care more about Ferdie than about random loldier 55 ? Rhea? Felix? Claude? Ignatz?

Maybe the Elites were really friends and became """"nice""" persons with time, to their families and loved ones ?

Does this magically erase what they did before? Will that "good" they did erase all the "wrongs" they have previously done? Will theyr forever escape the consequences of their actions?

In a game that depicts Flamey as a terrorist for 11 chapters only to drop that plot point by the window to moan, again, about her "IdEaLs", "consequences" are maybe something you can eat as a snack, or throw in a trashcan.

So following the rules of this verse, given how Supreme Leader never receives flak for her Flamey stunts, why should the Elites receive any for what they did? Look, Maurice calls Daphnel his friend, surely he is not that bad of a man? Well yeah, he might have seduced women and planted a lot of wild oats here'n'there, but he cares about his friends!

Jeritza likes ice creams and cats! Surely it's more important to paint him as a cat lover than to deal with all the consequences of his stunt as the Death Knight, kidnapping and implied rekting young woman while he was in GM, under Flamey's orders, right?

Calling it now, after eviscerating Seteth's older brother, Goneril might have melted in front of one of Rhea's kittens, and adopted the cat asap. Surely that makes Goneril a "good" character right? And forget the entire "genocided a bunch of hippies living isolated in their village" stuff?

I don't have fanfics recs where the BEs are called hypocrites, but I confess I don't read a lot of fanfics in the FE16 fandom because of all of the aforementioned issues.

[acoldsovereign]

Continued from here, due to lore changes // @queen-jala

---

AS THE WOMAN SPOKE, MAIZ'S DISPLEASURE GREW.

A heavy feeling--writhing, twisting like a dirt-covered worm coming up to the surface in times of rain--made itself known within the pits of her stomach. Her legs moved involuntarily, an action that brought her face to face to the other woman--and her jaws clenched at the realization that she may have been wrong (er, right?) in regards to Jala; she did run away, leaving the Saiyans to their fate. She did abandon them in their time of need.

And if she was who she said she was, her cowardice was utterly unacceptable.

Her tail swept behind her in low arcs, brushed up against her ankles, dark brown fur poofed in silent anger. "Get back home?" She asked, in a low voice. "Haha," she laughed without warmth. It was empty, hollow. "What home?"

Though it didn't show on her face, violent, intrusive images flashed through Maiz's mind: grabbing a fistful of Jala's face and smashing it into the ground repeatedly, grabbing the woman's tail, tying it around a boulder and pushing it into the nearest body of water, tackling her to the ground and manually rearranging her facial features with her fists until she was bloody, unrecognizable, begging for mercy---

"Last time I checked--," she leaned into the woman's face with a growl and then interrupted herself. The grip she held over her own biceps were strangling; her fingernails threatened to break through skin and her top row of teeth caught her bottom lip. For a moment, she seemed frozen in time (red light, shrill alarms, Frieza's men ambushing Saiyans indiscriminately, the blood, screams of agony--).

"--Nevermind. It does not matter." But Maiz wasn't talking to Jala then, it was a self-reminder. A warning, an attempt to restrain herself. Coming back into the present moment, she exhaled a harsh breath. The urge to grab the so-called Queen by her top and shake her violently was there, accompanied by a hardened look in Maiz's eyes. For the moment, the Ice Empress decided to play along for sanity's sake. It's not like she knew the Royal Family personally. She didn't.

"I do," she answered. "Any Saiyan worth their ki would rightfully abhor them both." She avoided saying their names entirely. "They should have never been allowed to lay eyes on our planet much less negotiate anything."

Notably, Maiz didn't agree to anything--helping her out with supplies or the offer to kill both Frieza and Cold. The reasoning for the first was simple--there was no home to speak of. Many cycles after she became an adult (in what should have been Saiyan society), she visited the space where their planet was. It was gone. Nothing was there. Nobody was there. If Jala didn't know that, she either never revisited the place where the planet was in her years of hiding, or she might have been held up somewhere. Though Maiz doubts the second option--the woman just said she's been hopping from planet to planet, didn't she? So what happened, truly? Did Jala just forget about her planet? Her people?

Before compulsion (and subsequent reckless decision making) swallowed her, she took herself away from Jala and freed the woman from her scrutinizing glare. She didn't praise Jala on her battle prowess either. It was as if Maiz was a sponge for information; a black sink hole with a freezing aspect. She looked towards the sky again of the unconquered planet, a name which currently escaped her. A cargo ship broke the monotonous colors of a purple and black firmament dotted with hazy, pink clouds. It was going to land, it seemed.

She uncrossed her arms and decided to keep her thoughts and traumatic memories to herself. Jala was not off the hook, but since she was a Saiyan, Maiz would give her the benefit of the doubt. She would have to earn her trust--but the shared heritage (and goal of wanting to murder Frieza) helped greatly.

"--As I've said before, there are few of us left. That is on purpose. What so little of us survived the tragedy that befell our people scattered us to each corner of the winds." Her lips twitched and she briefly frowned again before her face resumed it's neutral state. "It is terrible and unfair. For that purpose," she forced herself to breathe out through her nostrils in a self-soothing motion, "I will warn you of what you need to watch out for.

"Aside from them, there is a law enforcement group. They guard certain planets. Beware of Agents of the Galactic Patrol. They will arrest you for attempting to take over a planet under their protection. If you do not care about that, it's fine. But I refuse to let them stop me again.

"If your goal is similar to mine: re-establishing some semblance of Saiyan society, you'd want a neutral planet with many natural resources," she began walking towards the cargo ship. It was quite a few feet away--nothing a power walk couldn't fix. "Neutral meaning they are governed by theirselves, not aligned to any outside protection. Do research on their allies if they have any. Nearby planets as well. The inhabitants must be molded into what you wish them to be or else you've just done nothing more than empty an unusable planet you can't figure out."

Hence why she's done partial genocides, instead.

[starflungwaddledee]

going on the topic of one of your latest asks (the one about clockwork stars), was that person who was talking in the art bandee?

also since the person just wished to "bring him back", does that mean that galacta knight stays in the timeline, just with meta being out of the rock candy? or does gala get kicked out of the timeline and back into the rock candy?

or even better, erase galacta's influence on the timeline?

going to answer this one incredibly vaguely...

obviously this is a pretty key moment in the AU, and i will admit upfront that the art i posted was purposefully a little bit misleading to maintain suspense haha. but here's some direct answers:

no, it was not bandee talking.

and it almost certainly would have had the first result, if the dialogue we saw had been the actual wish. but it wasn't.

[admin-courtneys-corner]

COURTNEEEYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!

hi :D

~☆ @the-real-team-galactic

…!

hello…team galactic member…♪

[galaxybeginnings]

"Peter...?" Nikki's voice is shaking, a tremble to her lips as she finds him in the living room, stands in the doorway. The shifter had tried to brave a nap of all things. She'd caught some kind of bug and just wanted a little rest. Her nightmares had other things in mind. "Will you come t' bed?"

Peter looked up from the book he had been reading. It was rare these last couple of shifts for her to look for him, something seemed to have spooked her in some way. Closing his book he got up and walked over, placing the back of his hand to her forehead. “Cheeks are red… Temp elevated to be warmer than it should be. Go back to bed and I’ll bring some water and meds I have on hand to you.” Keeping matter of fact about things he nodded back to behind her where her bed was before heading away and to the kitchen where his bag was. Crouching down he rummaged through it before pulling out his own personal first aid kit. Taking a few things out he went and grabbed a glass filling it with chilled water. Soon he was back in her room and sitting on the side of the bed, handing her the glass before opening the cooling pad. Gently he placed it onto her forehead before opening the needed cold meds to help bring her fever down.

“Finish the water. You’ll need to stay hydrated.”

[paradoxesofgalaxies]

So on the note of realizing something I thought was normal is actually kinda fucked (parents removing bedroom doors as punishment), I've got a question for y'all. Is it normal for your parents to make it explicitly clear that their relationship to each other is and should be prioritized over you/their children? Cuz I'm starting to think maybe not...

For fun(?) let's do a poll (with reblogs off tho)

[guldaastan]

i'm plugging in @ahmednaserfamily's fundraiser here. the fundraiser has been verified by gazavetters and is #37 on their list. they have raised less than 2% of their goal and have received only 2 donations in last eight days. this fundraiser is meant to take care of 20 people. please donate and share this fundraiser. i would also encourage you to make your own posts for this family.

donate here

tagging for reach [reply to be removed]

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[astrxthesiai]

Stelle Tags

⇢✶ choice isn’t as elusive《stelle’s questionnaire results》 [Questionnaire Results]

⇢✶ about the galactic baseballer《stelle’s headcanons》 [Headcanons]

⇢✶ starlit siloquoys《stelle’s musings》 [Musings]

⇢✶ interview with the galactic baseballer《stelle’s answers》 [Ask Replies]

⇢✶ trials across space and time《stelle’s replies》 [RP Replies]

⇢✶ defying one’s fate to the beat《stelle’s soundtrack》 [Soundtrack]

⇢✶ the golden trash can with amazing biceps《stelle’s aesthetics》 [Aesthetics]

⇢✶ the variable and star《stelle》 [Self]

⇢✶ the stelleron receptacle《stelle’s main verse》 [Main Verse]

[enaelyork]

May I request any Hux x Krennic headcanons you may have?

It's hard for me to imagine any romance between them (but my god, people have thought about it on the internet, it's crazy!). Therefore, I will make this headcanon as I see it. Kisses !

✨Imperial ask are open ✨

✨MASTERLIST ✨

+ Orson doesn't like Brendol Hux. The man is a coward and he is not very brave. Everything that highlights him the most in the world.

+ However, he realizes that he has a bastard son and that this boy regularly suffers mistreatment from his father. I imagine the teenager and Krennic met by chance. Orson allegedly surprised the young man taking a look at the plans on the table at General HQ and they began to discuss what was depicted there.

+ Krennic directly noticed the bruises on the boy's arms. He grabbed his wrist and saw his startle directly. Fear. And he intends to help her never be afraid again in her life.

+ He doesn't know why, but Armitage awakens in him a strange feeling of compassion. It's as if this boy is sending him back to something inside him that he's tried to kill over the years and never succeeded.

+ Deep down, they are both similar. Rejected, but merciless. He could be the one to instill vengeance in Hux and suggest that his father died in unfortunate circumstances. + He'll never admit it, but Hux and the son he never had. He sometimes thinks about that conversation Galen tried to have with him about his future and his desire to be parents one day. Krennic does not regret having sacrificed this aspect of life for the glory he reaped. But now that time is passing, he is counting on Armitage to take care of what he leaves behind.

+ Sometimes a kind of rivalry breaks out between them. Especially when Hux reaches the upper echelons of power. Krennic has difficulty accepting that he can act on his own without being influenced.

+ They once considered murdering each other. It probably makes their bond stronger. + Starkiller would never have seen the light of day without Krennic's advice. He was the first to ensure the progress of the project and believes he had as much importance in its design as Hux.

+ It is likely that Hux will receive his cape as an inheritance in the distant future.

[saphronethaleph]

Soresu Negotiations

“Get help,” Palpatine said. “You’re no match for him. He’s a Sith Lord.”

Obi-Wan turned to look at the Chancellor. “...yes?” he said. “But he’s also something else – something I’m surprised you’ve forgotten.”

“What?” Palpatine asked.

“A politician,” Obi-Wan replied, turning back to Dooku.

Anakin groaned, then sat down.

“Here we go,” he said.

Palpatine blinked, looking from Anakin to Obi-Wan.

“...what do you mean, Anakin?” he asked.

“This happens sometimes,” Anakin replied. “How do you think he got his nickname?”

“Count,” Obi-Wan said, at about the same time. “It’s occurred to me that I never actually found out what the Confederacy wants.”

“Isn’t it a little late for this?” Dooku asked. “We have been at war for several years.”

“True,” Obi-Wan conceded, readily. “The war having started on Geonosis, because of tracing back your clone army which we… appear to have appropriated, mostly because you did it in our name. But that’s how the war started – not your objectives.”

Dooku was silent for a moment.

“I assume some semblance of a point will be emerging,” he said, eventually. “If you could be so kind as to provide it?”

“Wars begin for all sorts of reasons,” Obi-Wan replied. “But how they end… they end because a mutual settlement has been reached. And it’s occurred to me that I don’t know what you’d want out of a victory.”

He spread his hand, the one not holding the – unlit – saber. “It’s not the conquest of the Republic, I can tell that much. If the CIS annexed the Republic, what you’d have would still be the Republic, just under a different name… it’s not the Republic without the corruption that’s been causing it problems, because most of the corruption in the Republic was – was – the big industrial concerns like the Techno Union, Commerce Guild, Trade Federation. But you seem to have taken all of those off our hands, and they provide essentially your entire military so I don’t think anyone else could honestly believe that either.”

“I wouldn’t expect a Jedi to understand,” Dooku replied. “The Confederacy’s member systems have concerns relating to over-centralization.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for a long moment.

“...no they don’t,” he said.

“I hardly think you can have earned your reputation as a negotiator, Kenobi, if you are so willing to be insulting,” Dooku said, archly.

“That’s not what I mean,” Obi-Wan replied. “I mean… yes, now the Republic has an army, though really it’s actually the Jedi’s army and we’re simply letting them borrow it, but four years ago the Galactic Republic was proverbially incapable of doing anything. It took emergency powers for the Chancellor to get the Republic to authorize having any kind of military whatsoever – and the only one available was the one you ordered. That’s not over-centralization.”

He drummed his fingers on his ‘saber. “And I note that I overheard Nute Gunray insisting on the head of Senator Amidala – literally, in those words – as his price for signing a treaty. But I still haven’t heard an actual answer. What does the Galaxy look like if the Confederacy wins?”

Dooku frowned, and after about three seconds Obi-Wan glanced at the Chancellor.

“Didn’t you discuss this at any point, your excellency?” he asked. “Count Dooku doesn’t seem to have thought about this.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he repeated. “Shouldn’t you be fighting him?”

“It’s called diplomacy, Chancellor,” Obi-Wan replied, before returning his attention to Dooku. “Grandmaster, are you seriously telling me that you never thought about what you would do if you won?”

Anakin checked his comlink, for the time, then the ship trembled slightly.

“Artoo?” he asked. “Can you tell those ships outside to stop shooting at us and give us a wide berth? This could take hours and I don’t want to find out if my name’s literal.”

“Hours?” Palpatine repeated.

“He’s rolling,” Anakin replied, rolling his eyes. “Like I say, I’m used to this.”

He rummaged in a pocket of his robes, taking out a miniature toolkit, and began disassembling his lightsaber. “I’m pretty sure I can retune these crystals to give two stable configurations which it’ll snap between, that should give me a length toggle instead of a single adjustable length…”

“Are you taking your lightsaber apart?” Palpatine hissed. “What if you need to fight?”

“It’s okay, Chancellor, I’ll get about five minutes’ warning if the negotiations are going downhill,” Anakin replied. “That should be time to put it back together again…”

Palpatine looked up to Obi-Wan, who – sure enough – was still going.

“...of course, a separate but related issue is what it’s going to be like afterwards,” Obi-Wan said. “In principle the Republic and the Jedi Order could probably accept the existence of Sith so long as we actually knew who they were and they weren’t trying to destroy us. It’s the fact that the first Sith we met in a thousand years tried to run Anakin over and cut Qui-Gon’s head off as an opening move that’s soured us towards them a bit… but are you really going to be content as someone whose whole job is to die for Sidious?”

Dooku stared at Obi-Wan, baffled, then glanced at Palpatine and Anakin.

“What do you mean?” he asked, forcing his gaze back to Obi-Wan.

“Sidious is your Master, we know that much,” Obi-Wan replied. “Partly because you told me yourself. But has he ever put himself in danger? Or has it all been you dealing with Jedi like myself and my apprentice? Putting yourself out there, in danger, while you do exactly what he says?”

He smiled slightly. “A Jedi would accept that, but you’re a Sith – you’ve said so yourself. Sith are self-interested. What do you think your new master is getting out of the situation? Because if you don’t know, it’s got to be something and it’s probably something he doesn’t want to tell you.”

“My master is quite willing to put himself in danger,” Dooku said, then clamped his lips shut at a frantic mouthed shut up from Palpatine.

“Real or feigned?” Obi-Wan asked. “Do you think he wouldn’t manipulate you? He’s been doing it to everyone else – you’ve said it.”

Dooku’s brow furrowed.

“But we’re getting off topic,” Obi-Wan said, turning to look at Palpatine. “Chancellor, what about this as a starting point? Your emergency powers were granted to resolve the crisis, and I’m sure you want to abandon them as soon as possible… so why not take away the whole reason why the individual systems in the Confederacy had problems with the Republic to begin with? Freely allow the departure of any system which wishes to do so, under the emergency powers legislation; enact a progressive tax, one which hits the Core worlds harder owing to their greater ability to pay, to sustain a carrier based navy able to hunt pirates more effectively than conduct occupations or orbital bombardment, and have the navy established on a sector-federal two-level model?”

Palpatine stared at Obi-Wan for at least ten seconds.

“...he’s a Sith Lord,” he said, yet again.

“Oh, shut up,” Dooku replied. “You’re a Sith Lord and I don’t see you doing anything constructive.”

Obi-Wan glanced at Palpatine.

“...you know,” he began. “I’m quite sure you’d need to note that on your financial disclosure forms, your Excellency.”

He turned sideways, so he could see both Dooku and Palpatine at the same time. “What was the point of this whole abduction, anyway?”

“As it happens, I was supposed to kill you,” Dooku said. “It’s the only way to turn Anakin to the Dark Side, if you’re out of the way.”

“Huh?” Anakin asked. “Is something up? I’ve almost got the crystals realigned.”

“This plan looked a lot better this morning,” Palpatine muttered.

[bet-on-me-13]

The Ambassador

So! It was finally happening. After Years of Pleading with the Guardians and other Ruling Bodies of the Galactic Community, the Justice League had finally gotten then to agree to create an Alliance with Earth.

With an Alliance, Earth would gain the Protection of Multiple Empires and The Guardians, which would mean an end to the Constant Alien Invasions they faced. There was also the legal opening of Trade Routes between Planets to exchange Technology and Resources on the Galactic Scale.

Of course Earth would return the Favor, legally being able to defend it's Allies with its unusually large population if Superheroes and quickly advancing Tech, while also trading Tech and Resources between Planets.

Of course the battle was not entirely won yet.

They still needed to begin Negotiations to see if both sides would even agree to the Alliance in the First Place, as well as decide on the specifics of the Treaty. The United Nation's would decide on Ambassadors to represent the different countries, while the different Alien Governments would send an Ambassador Each.

When the Ambassadors arrived, they asked to be introduced to the Representatives of the Planet. Except, they claimed that there was a missing Member.

They claimed that there was one more Major Kingdom on the Planet, the most Powerful One, which they felt must be at the Negotiations.

When asked who this missing Ambassador was, they simply replied, "King Phantom of the Infinite Realms, he and a Shard of his Kingdom reside on this Planet, do they not?"

Now they are working around the clock to find this missing Kingdom, because the Alien Ambassadors refused to negotiate without the most powerful Kingdom at the Table, and they woud not wait forever.

Just who was this "King Phantom", and why had he not revealed himself yet?

...

Sam and Tucker sat on the Couch in their apartment, staring at the TV as the Chosen Representatives for America finished their Speech. Apparently the Peace Talks had been put on Hold for a few more days as they did some last minute preparations. Something about making their Guests more comfortable before they began discussing politics.

"Hey Danny, they're delaying the Negotiations for a few more days." Sam called over to the Kitchen.

"Aw, what?!" Shouted Danny from the Kitchen, sounding extremely disappointed, "I just finished making all the Popcorn!"

"I know Honey, its too bad." Tucker comforted his Partner, "Let's marathon Star Trek instead, how about that?"

Danny slumped out of kitchen and into the Couch between them, steaming bowl of Popcorn in his Lap, "I guess. We can make good use of all this popcorn at least."

Sam patted him on the arm, "Hey it's okay, the Talks will just take a few more days."

Danny shrugged, "Yeah, you're right. Man, what I wouldn't give to be in that Room."

[team-galactic]

team gaylactic. thank you for not changing your pfp once gay pride month ended.

Here at Team Galactic, we PRIDE ourselves on being inclusive and open year-round!

[aventurineswife]

In the quiet, galactic space of the Astral Express’s observation room, you find Dan Heng standing alone, his form ethereal and strong, back turned to you. In his Vidyadhara form, he appears almost otherworldly—a being of dragon heritage with sharp features, midnight-black hair that fades to teal, and curled horns casting shadows on the walls. His clothes, a blend of warrior regalia and quiet elegance, reflect both his heritage and his inner conflict.

You hesitate at the doorway, admiring the serene yet guarded figure before you. He knows you’re there—Dan Heng is never unaware—but he says nothing, his gaze fixed on the stars beyond the glass. In the silence, the space between you feels almost sacred, as if speaking would shatter it.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward, daring to approach him. “Dan Heng?” you say softly.

He glances at you, eyes a striking, vivid green that glow faintly in the dim light. For a moment, his gaze flickers with emotion—something raw, buried deep within. But he holds it back, as he always does, his face returning to the composed expression you know so well. “You should be resting.” he murmurs, though there’s no admonishment in his tone.

You can’t help but give a small smile. “I couldn’t sleep. And… it seemed like you could use the company.”

For a moment, he says nothing, but his silence is answer enough. Slowly, he nods, turning his face back to the galaxy. Encouraged, you come closer, standing beside him as the two of you gaze out into the void. His presence is calming, yet electric; you can feel the restrained power within him, the weight of his lineage and the memories he hides.

“You don’t talk about it much.” you say quietly, unsure if he’ll answer.

He tenses slightly, but doesn’t move away. “There isn’t much to tell.” he replies, though you sense the reluctance in his words.

“Even if it’s just with me?” you ask, heart pounding as you reach out to him, your fingers brushing against his hand.

For a moment, he remains still, as if deciding whether to let you closer. But then, slowly, he turns to face you fully, his hand slipping into yours. His eyes are intense, searching your face for something, perhaps reassurance or understanding. It’s as though he’s teetering on the edge of something—vulnerability, maybe, or trust.

“Being here, with you…” he murmurs, voice low and filled with an emotion he can’t quite conceal, “makes me wonder if there’s a part of myself that I could share, that isn’t… tainted by the past.”

His words stir something deep inside you, a mixture of empathy and a need to bridge the chasm he keeps between himself and everyone else. You reach up, your fingers lightly tracing his cheek, his skin warm beneath your touch. “You’re not defined by what’s happened. You’re allowed to want more. To want someone.”

Dan Heng’s eyes search yours, his breathing shallow as he lets your words sink in. Then, his hand lifts, his fingers ghosting over yours as he draws you closer. His forehead rests against yours, a sigh slipping past his lips, as if he’s finally allowing himself to let down his guard.

The moment stretches, filled with a quiet tension. Then, his lips meet yours, soft at first, cautious. But as you press closer, a new urgency fills the air, the kiss deepening as he lets go of his restraint, just for you. His hand slides up to cradle the back of your neck, his fingers gentle yet firm, drawing you in as his lips part, inviting you further.

It’s then that you feel it—a faint, unfamiliar sensation against your tongue. You realize it’s his split Vidyadhara tongue, a delicate, serpent-like touch that’s both unfamiliar and thrilling. A shiver races down your spine as he explores, his breaths growing unsteady. The unique feel of his split tongue intertwining with yours is mesmerizing, an intimate act that seems to bare the quiet vulnerability he keeps hidden from everyone.

Dan Heng’s hands settle at your waist, his hold tightening as he pulls you flush against him. Each movement is tender, filled with a longing he rarely lets himself indulge. His lips trace yours, slow and deliberate, as though memorizing the shape, the feel of you. His breath mingles with yours, each exhale carrying the unspoken desire he’s kept buried.

For a moment, he breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours once more. His vivid green eyes meet yours, softened by an emotion that words can’t quite capture.

“You make me feel…” he murmurs, voice barely audible. He trails off, as though he can’t bring himself to finish, but his expression says enough. In his gaze, you see it all—years of solitude, of battles fought and regrets carried, all melting into the gentle warmth he shares with you now.

His lips find yours again, this time with a sense of urgency, an unspoken promise. His split tongue brushes against yours once more, sending a thrill through your senses as he pulls you closer, his hands sliding down your back, grounding you against him.

In that moment, the walls he’s built around himself crumble just a little more. Dan Heng, the stoic guardian, allows himself to be vulnerable, to be human, if only with you. And as he holds you, lost in the quiet intimacy of the moment, you realize just how deeply he feels for you, even if he may never find the words to say it.

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes,

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Just a quick thought: Yandere!Sunday who is a galactic pop superstar.

He sees you at one of his concerts during a slower song when he looks up from the piano keys, floating in a sea of faces. Instantly you stand out to him. There's something chimerical in this moment, he thinks.

When he finishes up the set, quickly moving backstage to prepare for the next set, he makes a decision: he has to know more.

You get invited backstage after the concert, truly a dream. He sits on a plush light grey sofa, calmly smiling at you as he does to all his fans, but his golden eyes glitter and swirl with unreadable emotions. You've intrigued him.

Every moment that passes after this meeting seems to topple over like dominoes placed by a steady and swift hand. Invites to secret sessions turn into tickets offered over social media. Slowly, Sunday pulls you into his world, makes you his greatest muse. When the songs on his latest album are picked apart, atom by atom, the analysts surmise that there must be someone. And when Sunday responds to these allegations at a concert with a sly smile and a glint in his eyes, his fanbase erupts, demanding to know more.

But they will know nothing, Sunday thinks as he walks backstage, taking off his mic and his opulent outfit. He returns to his hotel room that evening to see you, safe and sound, your breathtaking eyes still painted in strange shades and hues from when he sung songs meant just for you.

He asks you if you would like to go to Penacony with him to watch him sing in the Charmony Festival, and you reply with bright eyes and a smile on your face.

One day very soon, Sunday will sing a song that will send the entire universe into an eternal dream. But in this moment, your beautiful, foolish mind completely ensnared by his siren-like voice, he feels like he is dreaming.