#is that enough spacer tags?

[a-dragons-journal]

have you heard of KissingMidnight? back in the mythical community i used to hear bout her from time to time, a p-shifter who became a real mermaid. Now, I wonder... what do you think the true story was?

I hadn't heard of her by that name, but I'd seen the photos she posted as supposed "proof" of her shifted form. (Somebody posted a log of them here, for anyone who hasn't seen.)

The ironic thing is, blatantly faked "proof" like this (photos are grainy at best, especially the ones of "scales" where you can't really even see the supposed bumps she's talking about, and the tail is... obviously a fake? there's no life to that thing at all), as opposed to "that's a normal human thing that you are presenting as p-shifting" type proof, indicates to me that she was knowingly lying. If it was a photo of someone who genuinely believed what they were saying (which, at this degree of shifting, would have to be a hallucination, not just reading too much into normal human body things), we wouldn't be able to see the shift, because it wouldn't be physical.

There's a lot of reasons she might have lied about it, and I really can't speculate on it. She might have originally believed it and then not known how to back out when she realized it wasn't real and just doubled down instead. She might have been just a plain old troll, though it looks like she put an awful lot of effort into it for a troll. It doesn't look like she ever started up any groups, but it's possible she was partly looking to get power over people via claiming "secret knowledge" on an individual basis, since she did tell people to contact her directly according to that log. She might have just liked the attention. Who knows. I'd be curious to know her reasons, if anyone ever tracked her down, but I'm not going to spend too much time thinking about it.

[vodika-vibes]

A New Dawn

Summary: Fives died...only it's a little more complicated than that.

Word Count: 1114

Warnings: Death, blood, technically character death but it doesn't stick

Characters: ARC Trooper Fives, F! Twi'lek reader

Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-loves-starwars @tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar @trixie2023 @kimiheartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435

@etod @n0vqni

A/N: So, I have Fives brain rot and I'm going to make it everyone's problem. But I don't have a whole story in me right now, so have a drabble. Drabbly thing.

Okay. Not so much a drabble, lol.

Fives died.

He knows he died. He was shot, right through the heart. And, without his armor to protect him, he died. Hell, even with his armor to protect him, he still would have died.

It's a side effect of being shot through the heart, you see.

Anyway. Fives was shot, by his own older brother (rude much), and he was shot through the heart. Ergo. He died.

Easy.

Simple even.

This is why he finds himself absolutely befuddled when he wakes up and finds himself sitting in the Kamino morgue, with a very healed Y-Incision scar on his chest, and an even more healed blaster starburst over his heart.

First off, since when do the Kaminoans do autopsies on clones?

Second off, since when is a blaster bolt to the heart survivable?

Fives pinches his arm, that's what you're supposed to do when you're dreaming, right? At least, that's what Ahsoka said once.

Of course. This doesn't account for the fact that he's supposed to be dead.

He sits up and looks around. Yup. This is definitely a morgue. All of the dead bodies everywhere kind of make it obvious.

Of course, so far as he's aware the bodies are supposed to be on gurneys, not sprawled across the floor. And he's pretty sure that morgues are supposed to be clean and not look like a scene from a horror movie.

He wonders if he should be concerned about his lack of concern about the dead Kaminaons sprawled around the room. Fives thinks about it for a moment, and then decides that he's in shock and that is why he's not reacting.

Sounds logical, at least.

Fives swings his legs off the side of the table and then pauses. He lifts the sheet that is doing a very poor job of keeping the cold out, actually, and releases a thoughtful hum.

Naked.

Well yes, of course he's naked. It's kind of hard to do an autopsy on a dressed person. Well. He assumes. He's never actually done an autopsy before. That was more Kix's thing.

Fives looks around the room, there must be something—

Ah! There!

He hops to his feet, being careful to step around both the bodies and the pools of blood, to pull a pair of sweatpants out of a nearby closet. They're clean, which is good enough for him, so he pulls them on.

They're also a little big on him, made for an Alpha class vod'e probably. Whatever, beggers can't be choosers and he is not running around naked.

He'll catch a cold.

Fives grabs a sweatshirt as well and is about to pull it on when the door to the morgue slams open. He jumps and whips around. He doesn't have a weapon outside of the sweatshirt, but he can make that work.

The person on the other side of the door let's out a startled shout when she sees him, and she flings a ball of flimsy across the room. It hits Fives in the chest and bounces, uselessly, to the floor.

Fives stares at the paper for a moment, and then he looks at the woman. She's a twi'lek, short and curvy, and she's wearing what looks like scrounged spacer armor.

"Who are you!" She demands as she points at him accusingly.

"I live here, who are you?"

The woman pauses, "You live in the morgue?"

Fives pauses as well, "Do you always answer a question with a question?"

"Do you?" The woman's gaze drifts to his chest and she releases a noise that sounds a lot like that tooka kitten that Tup once tried to smuggle onto the Resolute, "Did someone try to autopsy you!?" She sounds horrified.

Which, Fives thinks, is probably an appropriate response.

"No."

"...but...the scars..."

"They didn't try, so far as I can tell. They succeeded."

"Uh..."

"I was dead. Shot right through the heart."

"Cool. Cool. Cool cool cool." She says quickly, "So, like, you're a zombie."

Fives tilts his head to consider the comment, "Well, I was dead and now I'm not, so I suppose, following the technical definition, yes. I am."

"That's...cool."

He finally pulls the sweatshirt on, it's really cold in here actually. "I don't feel like eating your brains though, so no need to worry about that."

"That's awesome." She hasn't taken her eyes off of him, "So, uh, did you do...this?" She asks as she gestures vaguely towards the bodies.

"...they were dead when I woke up."

"So, there's something else here slaughtering people and it's not the actual zombie?"

"So it would appear."

"That's super."

Fives hums noncommittally, "If you bring me to the Jedi, I'll help you escape." He offers, it's a good offer. He's a very talented soldier, in his opinion.

The little twi'lek blinks at him, "Uh...the Jedi are dead. Like. Super dead."

"Ah. Palpatine."

"You are very well versed in the horrors of the galaxy for a zombie." She notes.

"Well, I was killed because I learned Palpatine was going to kill the Jedi."

"Oh. That sucks. It's a shame you weren't able to tell anyone." She offers, before she jumps at a loud crash from the hallway, "Oh. Right."

"What was that?"

"It...might have been an assassin droid."

"Why are assassin droids after you?"

"What?! They're not! Why would you ask me that? What are you, a cop?"

"That wasn't suspicious at all."

"Shush. You're going to get me caught Zombie!"

"My name is Fives."

"That's a number."

"It's a name and it's mine."

She squints at him, and he stares right back at her, and then he jumps when she claps suddenly, "Help me not die and find the stupid thing that I'm looking for here, and I...will take you with me Zombie Fives."

"...To do what?"

"uh..."

"Counteroffer," Fives offers as he leans in and grins sharply, "I save your life, and then you help me murder Palpatine."

Her lower lip juts out childishly, "Counter-counteroffer. You save my life, and I help you meet people who are also trying to kill Palpatine, and then you help me save my family from slavery."

Fives leans back, "Counter-counter-counteroffer. I save your life, you help me kill Palpatine, I help you save your family from slavery, and then you help me save my family from slavery."

"Deal!"

"Deal." He stretches, "Give me your blaster and get behind the desk." He grins when she tosses her blaster at him and then jumps behind the desk, just as the door starts glowing.

Fives has been having something of a bad day. His grin sharpens as the assassin droid steps into the room, "Hello misplaced aggression."

[quinloki]

You have received the bad ass artist award🏆

Because you spark ✨so much joy✨

Pass it on to the artist and writers who you most look forward work seeing from!

^^; Oh goodness, thank you so much

Out here sparking joy \o/

I'm not going to be able to give this to all applicable people because tumblr will yell at me for sending too many asks within a give time frame...

TIME TO TEST TO THE TAG LIMIT, LET'S GO (Writers and Artists)

@swampstew @theaceofflamesposts @standfucker @cyborg-franky @icy-spicy @lyndsyh24 @writing-yarn-goblin @friedbluechicken @toxic--jpg @abysscronica @spacer-case @blithe-bee @vegalustirra @vizkopa @insanatty @leakyweep @bottommarcothephoenixenjoyer @yamiyamiart @gojo-mochi @creamsickle-writes @wurm-food @cozage @zoros-sheath @thus-spoke-lo @mewiyev @wellship @where-does-the-heart-lie @themetalhiro @r0ttkins @likesugarandcyanide @oz-gauze

Also @nagumoan and @un-shit-yourself who aren't into One Piece at all (or not much at all) but who are also very bad ass artists =3

Whew, I actually had enough tags to tag just about everyone!

I'm sure I've even missed a few - the small problem, hence my gripe earlier, is that I follow entirely too many deeply talented creators. People who put their the best they got into what they're doing, and whose appreciation of not just their immediate fandom, but of fandoms in general is easy to see.

I never expected One Piece to suck me in (I've said before I start it with the assumption I'd hate it) but I'm so glad it did. I'm so glad I've gotten to find such kind and talented people and just bask in their awesomeness.

Annnnd like everyone else, I probably need to get better about saying that more often ^^;

[elvenbeard]

Exposing myself here a little and sharing the current rule-set for my CP2077 Discord I'm the process of setting up below the cut! Below the cut, cause this post it's a lot of text as is.

I think I got all channels set up how I want them for starters, but there will always be room for improvement :D First and foremost I want this to become a place of encouragement and sharing and fun... I really just want it to be an extension of my fandom corner on tumblr here and have a room to chat with everyone I love in one spacereally, that's the whole point XD

Still though, I think some basic rules are good, especially if I decide to open this up to more people down the line - but also, some might find a strict ruleset (or my specific ruleset) not to their taste, hence, before sending out invites, I wanted to put this here.

If we're mutuals, or if you're following me and like what I post, original content and reblogs alike, AND if you wanna be part of this server under the prerequisite of accepting the rules below the cut... Like this post or DM me or leave a reply etc. And I might send you an invite.

(I want to open this up specifically also to people I'm not mutuals with, since I don't always follow back for a variety of reasons. But I have a good memory for user-handles and will recognize you if you interact with my posts on a regular basis!) Important: If I don't send you an invite, please don't take it personally. I might not know you or your vibe well enough yet. Especially if we're new mutuals, or if I'm not following you. But I will check out everyone I don't recognize or don't follow who reacts to this post. I want to keep the server somewhat small in general and especially to begin with, but if all goes well, I might come back to this post here somewhere later down the line and send some more invites! I love you all lots, and especially with my semi-forced hiatus recently I missed interacting with everyone. Being welcomed back so warmly repeatedly by so many people in your tags and replies and all really meant so much <3

So yeah! Server-rules below, react to this post or get in touch with me if you're interested to join based on these prerequesites, invites will go out during the weekend most likely! :D

1. Don't be a dick and use common sense. Be kind to each other. Assume ignorance over ill intentions first and foremost, and when in doubt, stay civil and ask a mod or admin for help via DM.

2. Homophobia, Transphobia, Queerphobia in general, Racism and Hatespeech towards other server members will not be tolerated. Report any talk of this sort to a mod or admin asap if you notice it.

3. This is an adult/NSFW server. You need to be at least 18 years of age to participate and can expect respective content. This is not to exclude anyone younger than 18, but for legal reasons.

4. No 18+ content needs to be spoilered ||like this|| by default. If you choose to spoiler something, which you are always free to do especially in general channels, use a label/indicator describing the content you're spoilering (e.g. [explicit sexual content], [nsfw], [blood/gore], [xyz kink], [tmi]). No kinkshaming please, but also, note rule 5.

5. If someone asks you to spoiler a specific type of niche/extreme content (e.g. extreme kinks, dark and disturbing topics, (mental) health themes like self-harm or terminal illnesses, or any content that could fall under 4) please do so. Be mindful of each other's comfort levels with being exposed to certain darker topics. Being asked to spoiler content does not equal being kinkshamed.

6. Everyone's boundaries are valid and you are free to set them. Simultaneously, nobody should have to censor themselves or their creations either. Spoilering (extreme) content on someone else's request does not equal censorship but is part of being a community.

7. If someone forgets to spoiler a topic that has been previously asked to be spoilered, do not assume the worst and kindly remind the op to spoiler. If the same person keeps forgetting the same things though and you feel like it is on purpose or targeted, let a mod/admin know.

8. If a topic that makes you personally uncomfortable is being discussed in a group setting, stepping away from the conversation temporarily is an alternative to asking to spoiler something (also applies to rule 6). Simultaneously though, due to no blacklisting options on Discord, be mindful of what you post especially if others whose comfort levels you don't know are there with you.

9. Please keep discussions on the server civil. If you've messed up, apologize. If discussions get personal or touch upon server-external issues, please resort to DMs to resolve them. If you need a neutral party to listen, @elvenbeard is always happy to.

10. Do not post content that isn't yours without the explicit permission of the original creator (be it mods, VP, art, writing, etc.). This includes posting links to external works that aren't yours.

11. Start no arguments or spread negativity by discussing non-server-members and their activities.

12. Keep shippy content to the respective channels. Respect each other's ships and headcanons (exceptions: see 13), but also respect the source material(s).

13. If you notice headcanons that are queer-phobic, transphobic, racist, hateful or something similar, especially if they are being framed or discussed as positive, inform a mod or admin asap. Everyone is entitled to their own headcanons, but any falling under these categories will not be tolerated.

[eridanidreams]

WIP Wednesday

Tagging the usual suspects:

@bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour and @artemis-crimson

From the upcoming chapter of stars through my fingers like grains of sand...

Sam had picked a landing site far enough from the complex that the Spacers didn't bother coming out to take a look. Instead, they were dug in around the outside of the station. He and Cait came under fire from the moment they crossed the perimeter, and while the Spacers weren't particularly good shots, there were a lot of them.

He'd gotten himself tucked in at one end of a massive resource container; he laughed softly, watching his breath plume out in the cold air. "You know, darlin'," he said—

"If you tell me that my blood should be pumping," Cait replied drily, peeking around her side of the container and ducking back into cover, "I will shoot you myself."

Sam chuckled. "That's not very nice," he mock-chided. "Whatever happened to my sweet Cait?"

"All the sweet froze up and fell off," Cait retorted, "because she keeps getting dragged out onto iceballs to get shot at by a bunch of murdering sociopaths."

And speaking of murdering sociopaths—Sam rocked around his corner and fired. He chanced a quick look over at Cait—she was looking pretty green. "You okay?"

She let out a long breath. "Told you I can handle it," she muttered, then rolled out—catching the one on her side by surprise—and took him down with a carefully-metered burst, then ducked behind a giant forklift.

Sam bit back an irritated reply—did she really have to put herself in harms' way just to prove a point? He took a deep breath and did his best to tuck his irritation away. "I hear you," he said crisply. "Clear on my side."

"Clear here." She leaned her head briefly against the frame of the forklift. "Sam—" She sounded like a dog that had been kicked about ten times too many, and it took the wind out of whatever annoyance was left to him.

"I know," he sighed. "I know." Now it was his turn to edge out and make the dash to the next cover. He couldn't keep from grumbling under his breath, "But I don't have to like it."

She glanced in his direction; she was mostly hidden from him by a spill of smaller containers. She tilted her head, and her expression got that weird, distant look that told him she was looking at something no ordinary person could see. Her head swiveled slowly, like she was doing a careful scan of the area; finally, she looked back at him with a shake of her head. "Activity inside, but nothing else out here right now but some animals back behind the station," she reported.

Sam let out a little huff. "Leave 'em be, then; if they're hostile, let 'em go after the Spacers." He relaxed his grip on his Magshear and headed up to the station entrance, then turned to cover her approach. Cait stepped out of cover, but paused, her attention drawn by one of the bodies sprawled across the plascrete near her. She knelt next to it, flipping it over.

"This one's a UC Marine." Of all the things he'd been expecting her to say, that was not on the list. Carefully, she checked the Marine's weapon. "Shot herself dry, too."

Sam shook his head in confusion. "The hell is going on here?" he asked rhetorically.

She didn't bother to answer; just took a second to check the Marine's neck, then rose back to her feet and joined Sam at the covered entrance. "Someone took the dog tags," she said.

"Huh," he muttered. "Weirder and weirder." He hit the button to start the hatch cycling. She still looked downcast, and he couldn't just leave her stinging from his annoyance. "I'm sorry for giving you grief, Cat." He met her gaze as he spoke, meaning every word of it. "When you warned me about how all this killing hits you, ain't that I didn't believe you could deal with it; it's just…" he let out a sigh, "harder than I thought to watch it happen." He cupped her cheek gently in one hand for a brief moment—then the door clicked open, and the moment passed.

"I'm used to it," she murmured in what he thought was supposed to be reassurance. "It'd be worse if you weren't here." She pushed through the door, rifle at the ready; Sam followed.

The next several minutes were a blur of gunfire; they'd managed to surprise a couple of Spacers who were occupied looting the dead, but the shooting alerted those deeper in the complex, and they were dug in like particularly malicious ticks. Finally, the echoes died down and they were the only ones left breathing. They both had bruises where their body armor had taken hits; Sam had a bleeding graze along one arm and Cait looked more than a little shocky. She leaned against a nearby wall, breathing heavily, while he bandaged up his wound. Not for the first time, he fought down the urge to ask her to go back to the ship so he could keep her safe, just like Cora. She ain't Cora, he reminded himself. She's a woman grown and your partner. Only thing changed since last time is a few words.

A few words. He snorted to himself as they picked up and moved on through the maintenance hall, keeping a sharp eye out for hostile movement. The kind of words that change a man's life. He was about to kick open a closet when she waved him off. "Open it slow," she said, quietly. "Whoever's in there doesn't feel like a Spacer, but they're scared." She managed a half-hearted smile for him. "Rather have you non-perforated."

Sam chuckled uneasily. "Oh, I am one hundred percent on board with not being perforated," he agreed. "Whoever's in there," he called, "friendlies here, don't shoot!" At her look, his grin widened, turned real. "What? Now if they shoot at us we know to shoot back."

Cait blew out a harsh sigh. "What if I'm wrong, Sam?" She shook her head. "You have too much faith in me sometimes."

Sam echoed her sigh. "Or you ain't got enough."

[atonalginger]

Snippet Sunday

Thanks for the tag @fangbangerghoul I think everyone has been tagged so I'm extending it to anyone who sees this and thinks "aww neat I want to try that."

Today's snippet is from Reclaiming Home (I've been trying to focus on my boy Sam again).

This snippet contain Lillian Hart slander (:

----

“I caused it!” she squeaked, “I told her where we were.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Sam assured her, kneeling next to Cora and brushing her curls out of her face, “Gumdrop, you did nothing wrong.”

“She didn’t even mention me!” Cora sobbed, “she’s not here for me, she’s just here to fight.”

Cora crumpled onto the floor, her loud, painful cries filling the hab. Sam pulled her in and hugged her close, his eyes a mix of rage and anguish. He rubbed her back and rocked back and forth, whispering soothing words into her hair.

Jamie turned back to her computer and pulled up the transmissions from the core. She opened the newest message from Ranger Lillian Hart and instantly saw red.

I heard you were running around with that tramp that ghosted you all those years ago. Thought you were smarter than that, Sam, but since you aren’t I will be there soon to straighten things out. Better not be zoned out again or it won’t be cargo I jettison this time.

“How dare,” Jamie muttered before catching her words. No, contain it. Cora needs us calm. She needs pillars right now. She closed the message and looked back to Cora in time to catch her as the girl threw her arms around her neck. Jamie squeezed back tight, “We got you, gumdrop.”

The ship rocked hard, throwing them all off balance, the cacophony of metal scraping and crashing together before several loud clicks all they heard. Sam pushed himself up off the floor and tapped keys on the computer while Jamie continued to hug Cora, grumbling, “no hail, no ping, no nothing.”

“Sam go lock the floor hatch, we don’t know if it’s her,” Jamie said quickly. She let go of Cora and cupped the little girl’s face, “let’s get you to the back of the lab in case we need to lock the door.”

“You don’t think she’d…?” Cora asked, her eyes wide and red.

“It’s possible but I want to play it safe.” Jamie kissed her forehead and stood up, leading Cora back to the couch.

Sam locked the floor hatch and dragged one of the heavy crates in the research hab over the square to block the path. Jamie stopped moving, raising an eye brow at his decision but he waved her back further into the hab. As Cora settled in, accepting a big plush blanket from Jamie, the sound of the docking hatch sliding open called out to them. Still no human voices.

Sam moved for the computer on Jamie’s desk and hammered at the keys, the cockpit hinge singing as it swung shut, “just going to lock down controls in case it’s not her. And while I’m here I’ll just look at this-“

“NO!” both girls called out from the back of the hab. Jamie and Cora looked at one other, a small nervous chuckle from them both before Jamie gave Cora’s head a pat and continued, “just leave it, honey. We’ve got enough to worry about.”

“I want to know what she said that made Cora cry,” Sam argued back, the keys clicking away as he pulled up the received transmissions. There was a long silence and then several hard key strikes from Sam backing out of the message.

“What do we do?” Cora asked softly to Jamie, hugging her middle with her head on Jamie’s arm, “I’d think if it was mom she’d have hollered or something by now. But if it was spacers or pirates they’d have hailed us, taunted us, or at least tried to bust open the hatch.”

“I don’t know, gumdrop,” Jamie fixed one of Cora’s stray curls, “this is unnerving.”

“Maybe we should sent a distress call?” Cora asked, “since we don’t know? Fox might still be in the system, we could try him?”

“Sam? What do you think?” Jamie called over.

He was knelt down, his hat off, ear to the floor. He held up a finger and closed his eyes. Jamie noticed in his other hand was his personal comms, his finger over the call button. Clever, darlin’, Jamie thought as she sat there comforting Cora. His eyes shot open, rage burning bright, before he squeezed them shut and closed his comms.

“So it is her?” Jamie asked.

[hastalavistabyebye]

Hi Hasta! Please tell me all about your OCs, Marcia and the Cantina Ghosts. I know absolutely nothing about them but I would like to!

Hi Thirsty !! Thank you very much for the ask <3

You can find Marcia's presentation here (there's add info on him in his tag, including a ficlet I've written for trans clone week) and the Cantina Ghosts' lore here + their picrews

Marcia is my (french) 80s music inspired baby ! She's an engineer of the 327th and the exact definition of a party boy. Gender is just glitter they use as makeup and xey collect pronouns like pretty rocks. He's a bleeding heart chewing bumble gum and drinking the most colorful cocktails available.

I adore zir. She's always in my mind xD

They're loud but care with their entire heart. Vae can be brought into tinkering prank material, vae's a very talented engineer (but she's very expensive). And zir engineer siblings always keep strawberry and chocolate ice cream around because it's the heartbreak comfort food (Marcia falls in love very very easily. Alas she's not always lucky)

I want to write a meeting between her and some of our favorite Torrent troopers. Because there is no way she didn't hit it off with at least Fives. And I'm also thinking of finding Marcia a Corrie partner 🤔🤔

I sadly didn't found a satisfying picrew that was at the same time cute, with 80's vibes outfits, and having both a haircut similar to the one Marcia has and a moustache option :( I might be asking for too much, I know x'D (the closest I did for now was a cute picrew I shared here but it doesn't have Marcia's hair)

~

The Cantina Ghosts are a music band composed of Whistler (banjo and harmonica + "percussions", deployed with the Wolfpack, more country music, he/him), Ivory (medic in the 41st, pianist, more classic music, she/her), Lydian (Ivory's batchmate, was under Mace Windu's battalion but was the first of the three to desert, trumpet plus some others instruments, jazz music) and Hadil Ziveri, the orphaned Mirilian-Twi'lek girl that Lydian adopt.

During the Empire, they are a very mysterious and famous band that appears in various cantinas and bars across the Galaxy before disappearing again. Every spacer knew about them. Or at least knew the name of the band. Some even tell tales of the time they had been lucky enough to see them perform. An entire section of the holonet is dedicated at following their apparitions. The legends are very thick around them. Nobody knows their name, nobody knows who they are (especially not Lydian who even their pronouns are a complete mystery).

But back into the safety of their ship ? They're a family simply going through the days little by little. Hadil and Lydian learn to cook together, and both are pretty good at it. They love to test recipes from Hadil's different cultures and recreate as much as possible the flavors of her childhood. Sometimes Whistler or Ivory will try to learn too, but it's mostly their quiet moments for just the two of them.

Whistler took a liking to engineering while learning how to repair their pretty ship who's also their home. He's also the one that had created Lydian's earring aid. But regarding the prosthetics of his little siblings he doesn't really have much to do, Lydian doesn't really like to wear their aid (the sounds are all wrong, better to barely hear anything than hear robotic, flat sounds only), and Ivory can tuned her leg prosthetic herself, thank you very much.

And Ivory took a liking to piloting. It's more because she like the sight of the stars from the cockpit than she like piloting in itself (even if it feels meditative too). None of them end up really passionate about piloting really. Especially not when they have to swiftly escape from imperial patrols, but it doesn't happen often (they stay carefully out of the most troublesome areas).

[silurisanguine]

OC Questionnaire Tag (bookish-karina questions answered)

Thanks to the lovely open tag by @bookish-karina I have more questions to answer as my OCs! I am loving doing these so if i haven't answered any you guys posted, send them my way!! As usual I'll be answering as Seren Jones, Aeryn Ryder, Zofie Orel and Kiara Black under the cut! Tagging @vorchagirl @despicablediet and @bearlytolerant @staticpallour @fangbangerghoul

@atonalginger @eridanidreams @toxiclizardwrites @therealgchu @aro-pancake @a-cosmic-elf and open tag to anyone who like to answer these questions three as their OC- 1- If you could time travel without consequence what moment in the past would you visit? 2 - Do you have a favourite food and drink? 3 - What do you think about the supernatural and magic?

Now to answer the questions given me - 1-have you ever wanted to stab someone? 2-what's your worst memory? 3 -what are you hoping to avoid? First up Seren Jones ( My Starfield Coemancer Starborn)

Have you ever wanted to stab someone? "Wanted to? I have, multiple times, with my beloved Va'ruun painblade 'viper's fang' - Spacers, Crimson Fleet, Fanatics and other Starborn. Damn I sound bloodthirsty don't I? Just the Settled Systems are the frontier, It ain't safe for an explorer and especially a Starborn one. You got to know how to defend yourself. But In truth, the only one I've ever really wanted to drive my blade into would be The Hunter for who he is, what he represents...what he did and could do again." What's your worst memory? "...Oh void, I hate talking about this, but... seeing Sam dead in front of me on the floor of the station. The Hunter had killed him, but I blamed myself for not being fast enough, for choosing to protect the people in the Lodge and not run to the Eye. It took me a long time to accept it wasn't my fault. But it hurts, especially when I see another Sam. I'm learning to live in the moment now, jumping through universes, taking a little happiness where I can until I find the right one. But that wound is still there on my heart and not sure if it will ever heal." What are you hoping to avoid? "Becoming like the Hunter in the amount of times I jump universes. Losing my humanity and compassion like he has to become this empty, cold and bitter creature. I... also really want to avoid dying before I find a universe to finally stop and settle down in again, like Aquilus has managed to do. Much as I don't subscribe to his faith, I admire what he's done." ✨ Next Aeryn Ryder ( My Mass Effect Andromeda Pathfinder )

Have you ever wanted to stab someone? "Yeah! That son of a bitch Archon would get the pointy end of my asari blade if I could get close enough to him. The rest, I don't want to do it, I just have to as they are trying to kill me!...well maybe if I ever find out who the Benefactor is, they might get to meet my blade too for what they did to Jien." What's your worst memory? "Dad told me that mom never wanted a funeral, that she didn't want people standing around her body crying, so we had a memorial service to celebrate her life and I remember just feeling so empty that she wasn't around anymore. That all I had were memories of her. That stayed with me. Close second would be waking up to find my dad had sacrificed his life to save mine after I'd...died. I didn't get to say goodbye or anything and then becoming Pathfinder, I haven't even really had chance to mourn or process the fact that I...died." What are you hoping to avoid? "Oh god, failure. Failure to live up to my dad's standard as Pathfinder. Failure to secure a viable home for everyone in Heleus. Failure to stop the Archon and the kett. Also really like to not die again." ✨ Next Zofie Orel ( My Deus Ex/ Assassin's Creed OC)

Have you ever wanted to stab someone? "I am an Assassin in the Coterie of Assassins. It's my job, so yes I have stabbed someone...many someones. Whether I wanted to, was very much up to learning what they'd done to warrant such an action. Sometimes it wasn't so much a want as a need. They were doing bad things, even if they thought they were doing good and couldn't be convinced otherwise. I took no pleasure in stopping them." What's your worst memory? "I could say it was the attack that caused me to be augmented, but truth be told, I don't remember it well. Being hit hard in the head has a tendency to do that. I think the worst, was waking up in the LIMB clinic and finding out Sarah, a fellow Assassin I was...close to, had died saving me, and my goshhawk Ghost had been killed too. That devastated me for quite some time. But I channeled that into my recovery, swearing vengeance for them both." What are you hoping to avoid? "Having to prevent Jensen from interfering with my mission. I'd prefer he was on board with what I have to do. So far the signs are good and I think once he finds out the full story he wont want to miss working with me." ✨ Lastly Kiara Black (My Dishonored/ Thief OC)

Have you ever wanted to stab someone? "Wanted to? No...maybe? Sometimes I saw an Overseer in Dunwall abusing his power, scaring someone, threatening them and I wanted to hurt them for it. But I don't really know how to fight. Garrett's shown me how to avoid fights and how to take someone down without them seeing you, but it's always no lethal. But there is a part of me that wants to see those who hurt people- be stopped for good. I have a feeling Garrett did that once, but he wont talk about." What's your worst memory? "...Finding out I might have caused my best friend's death. I was fourteen and Dylan was my only real friend. I thought I could trust him with a secret but he must have talked about it and it caused the Abbey to come to his family and try and take him...there was a fight, he and his family were killed by the Abbey and my family and I had to flee Caulkenny to Dunwall. I hated him for blabbing about what I told him, but I never wanted anything like that to happen to him or his family. That still haunts me." What are you hoping to avoid? "Getting caught. Either by the Abbey back in the Isles or by the City Watch here in the Eternal City. Both are as corrupt as they come, though if I had to choose, I'd take the Watch. least I know I could probably escape them. What the Abbey do to 'Heretics'... I think I'd rather die than be caught by them."

[fangbangerghoul]

Writing Pattern Tag Game

Thank you @silurisanguine for the tag. This is cool!

tagging: @therealgchu, @bearlytolerant, @eridanidreams, @a-cosmic-elf, @booburry, @5oh5, @atonalginger

Rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 posted fics and see if there’s a pattern

1. Fleeting Pleasures: Ghoul stood on the edge of the launch pad with her hands on her hips in pride. The mammoth size victory that stood in front of her was almost overwhelming and she was just about to jump for joy. 2. Ghoul Files: There was a slight chill in the room as Ghoul laid in the bed with her eyes closed. She was irate that she woke up in the first place because she wasn’t even sure what the local time was and last night she had stayed up later than usual. 3. What Did I Get Myself Into?: The sun was baking the sweat against her skin as she dragged a pile of old dusty wood back towards her shop. This particular wood pile had a few boards in it that would prove to be quite useful to her for her current project. 4. The Damn Rock: She found herself pounding away midafternoon. Sweat on her brow and sweat falling down her back. It had been a few days of gathering materials, lack of sleep, and small meals in between the short breaks she allowed herself. 5. soft spurs and leather: The air was heavy with dry heat as the stars sparkled the sky above. The noise from the bar was getting further and further away while you both stumbled back to the StoneRoot inn. 6. Tear You Apart: Your eyes open slowly to the sound of a crackling fire. Your memory is foggy as you come back to consciousness trying to remember how you passed out in the first place. 7. Cellar Door: The thrill at first was enough for her not to question the choice to deeply. Having to ride on the stars into an unknown hole of infinite possibilities was something everyone was excited to experience. 8. Capacity Limit: The last shot fired and another one was down as you looked at the pile of spacers that laid dead around the abandoned lab facility. It wasn’t everyday that a mission board request came so easy for the two of you. 9. Settling with the Stars: The busy nature of Kay’s House was not new to Ghoul. There was an array of sounds from the clinking of plates, the hissing of water, and the commotion of consumers finding solace in this place.  10. Neon City Delights: “Here goes nothing” Ghoul said to themselves as they got off the Razorfleet once more. Walter had just asked the new member of Constellation to help him retrieve another alien rock the association was searching for to find more answers.

There is definitely heavy visual imagery in the first two lines. I am always keen on trying to set the scene so that checks out. If anyone notices another pattern let me know!

[therealgchu]

Snippet Sunday

it's snippet sunday time! and, i finally get to officially use my new pretty banner. please post up any snippets you've got! still figuring out the tumblr environment, so not sure how to tag ppl effectively.

diligently working on the new chapter. here's a sneak peek:

The room that followed had a couple security robots still active, and Sam shot them before Hwa saw them. She was too enraptured by the scene. It was truly a secret lair, straight out of a comic book. She veered off to the left and found the main operating center and living quarters. In the back was a mannequin with the Mantis’ trademark spacesuit, resplendently white and shining. She walked up to it and reverently touched it. 

Sam smiled, “It’s all yours,” he gestured to the spacesuit.

Hwa looked back to him, “Are you sure? I mean, you wanted this, too, right?”

“Nahh, I don’t want to be a superhero. I was a Ranger, that was enough for me. Besides, the suit looks a bit small for me.” There was a part of him that did want it, but it was also true that he had his fill of being a crime fighter. Plus, he knew that being a hero like that paints a giant target on your back. With Cora, that wasn’t an option any longer, and he wasn’t going to take that chance. “It was enough that I got to see an actual secret base.” He gestured to the suit again and gave a nod.

She gave him one of her rare smiles that lit up her entire being. “A superhero,” she whispered, her hands clasped under her chin. When she smiled like that, he knew he made the right decision. Hwa donned the spacesuit, and truth be told, she looked like a galactic dental hygienist. But, he’d never tell her that. “What do you think?” she asked.

Sam nodded approval, “You look like you could scare spacers and pirates into the next universe.”

Hwa, with her face still glowing, said, “Let’s see what else is here.”

They spent the better part of a half hour scouring the base, which revealed its best secret for last. A big shiny button that begged, “Press Me” out on the main floor. Hwa gestured to Sam, “Would you care to do the honors?”

Sam grinned, “You know I love pressing mystery buttons. What could it be? Maybe a cake! Surprise! You’re the Mantis!” He pressed the button and waited. After a couple seconds, machinery started up, and the sound of hydraulic pumps working became deafening. When nothing happened, he shrugged. “I guess no cake.”

[a-dragons-journal]

hello! this is about your recent post where you mention in the tags that it’s okay to ask you about syscourse? sorry if that’s not what you meant, you can ignore this if you want.

for context, i don’t really have an opinion on endogenic systems, since i don’t think i have a place to. i’m a singlet — i once asked several (traumagenic) systems that i knew what their opinions on endos were, and, of course, they all gave different answers. (ranging from “it’s ridiculous and offensive” to “i don’t know, some have their reasons [gives list of reasons]” to “they exist and are harmless.”)

the problem is, i can see the arguments on both sides. like, yes, i agree that psychologists don’t know everything and could be overlooking some systems who really actually exist without a traumamatic origin. but at the same time, how likely is it that they’d totally have missed all these endo systems? but psychologists do miss a lot of things, like how autistic women are just now starting to get diagnosed. then again, is that situation really comparable? are there reputable studies published about endos that i just don’t know of?

i agree with what you said about not doubting others’ experiences of their own selves. but that raises the question of whether you should believe the reasons for what they’re experiencing. for example, i don’t believe in every religion. but if someone told me that they prayed to their god and their god comforted them, i wouldn’t doubt the fact that they were comforted — i just don’t think [insert example god here] exists. that’s just a thing that will happen when people have different beliefs. i wouldn’t say that to them, not unless they directly asked me my beliefs, but i just don’t believe in some religions. that’s just part of living, it would be pretty difficult to believe in every religion and philosophy at the same time. i wouldn’t expect anything different for other people regarding my beliefs, either — if i tell someone with different religious beliefs about a religious experience i had, i won’t be mad if they have a different explanation. (for clarification: i’m not trying to say this to be all “look at me, i don’t get mad but you people do!” i really hope it doesn’t come off that way. i try not to think i’m better than anyone, genuinely. i think i’m right about some things, of course, but who doesn’t think they’re right about some things? i can’t believe anything unless i think some things are correct and some things aren’t.)

it’s similar (though not the same) for systems, i feel like. for endo systems who are spiritual in origin especially. i don’t doubt their experiences, but i just can’t believe that some explanations are correct if my belief system is contradictory to it. does this mean i think all endos are secretly traumagenic, or, the opposite, that they’re all faking their experiences of being plural? very likely not. i haven’t seen everyone’s lives or brains.

i wouldn’t cut someone off solely for being endo, and i wouldn’t cut someone off solely for being anti-endo. i don’t know, i feel like i’m supposed to with tumblr culture being like it is. i understand that there’s many traumagenic systems who believe endos are wrong, or faking, because by modern medical knowledge, endos shouldn’t be a thing. they don’t want to be around people who they truly believe are co-opting their hardships for fun or completely misunderstanding what being plural is actually like. and i know they do truly believe that, they’re not being mean for the sake of it or trying to be ableist — as you’re probably aware, they believe that many endos are the ableists. but i don’t have the negative reaction some traumagenic systems have, because i’m a singlet. i can’t say for-sure-for-sure that endos are all super wrong about everything or that they’re all fakers, because i can’t read minds and i’m not omnipresent. i’m skeptical, but not so skeptical that i’ll dismiss it out of hand. i’m floundering around trying not to offend anybody unduly while wondering which people are the ones i actually shouldn’t mind offending.

i’m realizing i don’t have an actual question here. i guess i want someone to talk to about this, since my friend group (containing several of the traumagenic systems i mentioned earlier, the ones i asked their opinions on) has turned decidedly anti-endo. i don’t know when everyone decided to do this, as last year there were still multiple opinions spinning around, but i guess i missed out on a conversation or something. maybe some do still hold their former opinions, or anti-endo alters are the ones fronting more often when the topic comes up. i think they would be fine if i brought the topic up and told them how i felt — my friends are pretty reasonable when people have genuine questions, i highly doubt they’d kick me out or mock me or anything — but still.

i think i just want alternate opinions to consider, and to learn facts about endos i might not know of. i’ll probably stay pretty ambivalent no matter what people say on the topic (and i don’t say this to discourage anyone from telling me stuff, just trying to be honest about what will likely happen). i can imagine myself taking either stance, which means that i can’t in good faith take ANY stance. i have no clue which is objectively correct. i guess the important thing is just that i try to understand everyone’s perspective and be kind to everyone no matter how my beliefs change.

keeping this anonymous because i don’t want anyone i know to find this, at least not yet.

Hey anon, thanks for sending this and I think you're being very reasonable and handling this very well. I have a pretty strong opinion on this, but I don't want that to come off as me trying to bully you for making sure that you do your due diligence before taking up a stance on it; I think the world would be a better place if more people did that more consistently.

First, I really don't believe in the "singlets shouldn't have opinions on syscourse" thing. There's not really a neutral on this one; being neutral on whether or not to believe people about their lived experiences almost invariably just means you're willing to let the antis fakeclaim and often harass people. If you're existing in spaces with systems, you kind of have to have some sort of opinion on it. (And "I don't know enough to know what I think about this yet" is a valid opinion, and one I think more people should be willing to say!)

A major thing here is that science absolutely does recognize the existence of systems outside of DID and OSDD - which is usually what anti-endo people really mean when they say "traumagenic systems," despite the fact that technically it's possible for a system to be traumagenic without meeting the diagnostic criteria for DID or OSDD, and (and this is the controversial one) it's at least theoretically possible for a system to be DID or OSDD and never have experienced trauma - trauma is not part of the diagnostic criteria, and contrary to what anti-endos often say, DID and OSDD are not classified as trauma disorders in the DSM-V, they're classified as dissociative disorders. The theory of structural dissociation is not the be-all-end-all of theorizing on why DID and OSDD happen, and there's no objectively proving that it is.

Anyway. Tangent aside - even the diagnostic criteria for DID acknowledge that there are plural experiences that are not pathological when it makes an exception for possessions and plurality linked to cultural and religious practices. Outside of that, there are indeed papers and articles focusing on non-traumagenic and/or non-pathological plurality, and doubtless more of them mention it offhandedly - here's one short list which I've at least glanced at each of the entries in, and a longer list I unfortunately haven't had the time to read through and thus can't vouch for the links in yet (but it's there for your reading if you like). I'm certain there's more out there; my resources on this are limited.

Even aside from that, I feel like people forget that in psychology, studies and articles "proving" the existence of a phenomenon are just... recording the experiences of people in a mass format. There's no objective test you can do to tell if someone's plural. It's just large groups of people self-reporting their subjective experiences, instead of people doing it one at a time like you see on Tumblr or wherever else. Should I need a study to tell me that my experience of nonhumanity is real? Why is someone's experience of plurality different?

A pathological form of something existing doesn't mean that a non-pathological form of that thing can't also exist. The non-pathological form existing, likewise, doesn't mean that the pathological form suddenly isn't pathological anymore. Normal anxiety existing doesn't mean a clinical anxiety disorder suddenly isn't pathological anymore, and someone having a clinical anxiety disorder doesn't mean other people can't experience normal levels of anxiety about things without it being either faking or secretly a disorder. I mean, obviously this isn't a perfect comparison, but - do you see what I mean?

Re: not having to believe people on why, this is true and fair, but: I don't need to believe a given system's specific explanation for why they're plural, but I do need to defend their right to believe it, and I need to not insist that my explanation or experiences are universal. I also need to raise the point that if you (general you, not you specifically) are insisting that the why must be trauma, you are doing more harm than good - people's brains can and do make up traumatic pseudo-memories under pressure to remember something traumatic that never actually happened, and that has real effects on them even though those events didn't actually happen.

I do take your point about some anti-endos genuinely believing endogenic systems are either misunderstanding or co-opting their experiences. However, I personally hold to the opinion that frankly, this is solidly a them problem. If you can't understand someone else's experiences, and you decide that because of that they must be either wrong or lying, that is a you problem and you need to work on that. If you see someone having fun with (or just having a normal time with) something that's painful and traumatic for you, and you decide that because of that they must be faking or mocking you, that is a you problem and you need to work on that. It is an understandable you problem, because I get where the gut reaction is coming from, but it is still a you problem.

(Note that this is the same thing we say to transmeds, for the same reason we say it to sysmeds - and no, I don't call them "sysmeds" because I'm basing it on "transmed," I call them that because that's what they are, system medicalists, people insisting that the only way to be a system is for it to be a medical, pathological thing.)

Hopefully that helps give you some thoughts to chew on; I'm more than happy to continue this if you like, of course.

[cat-esper]

Find the Word Tag

I'VE BEEN TAGGED!! Yeeee, thanks for tagging me @illarian-rambling and @smudged-red-ink

Tagging @kaylinalexanderbooks, @revenantlore, @shardkeeperwip, and @sentfromwolves

Your words are return, last, dream, and forgive

I'm doing these for The Last Paladin book 3 and my words are flutter, accent, pass, sweat, blood, fall, moon, and slide.

Flutter

She didn't catch anything at first and feared she was too late but as she pressed in more firmly, she thought she caught a flutter of pulse. She didn't need to be a doctor to know things were bad. "She's alive. Help me with her," Chelsea begged as Thallow slid into the shed. She undid the buttons of her stolen lab coat and shucked it off, then gently tried to find where the woman was injured.

Accent

"Shay Finnegan," she said, his name curling around her accent like smoke. "I didn't think you would ever come to one of these." She spoke in Spacer's Common. Chelsea had been practicing the language but still wasn't so good at it. Fortunately, her translator did most of the heavy lifting. "Ahmey," Shay said with a grin. "Eh, figured I'd check it out. I was bored." Ahmey barked a swift laugh, revealing white teeth that were fused together into a single plate. "I'm sure."

Pass

"Please let us pass," she said. The mask muffled her voice but she knew they had no problem hearing her. "I'm an agent of the Priory and I have business elsewhere." "I'm sorry, but we can't let you go any further," the soldier nearest to her said. "We have our orders. You're to get back in your shuttle and return to the planet." Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. "Respectfully, sir, no," Solika replied, planting her feet firmly. "We're on the same side here and I demand the right to pass. But I will resist, if you force me to. And someone will get hurt."

Sweat

Magic flooded her skin, seeped from her pores, and twined around her fingers, making her seem to glow. Except that wasn't the result she wanted. She wanted to control the light coming in from outside. She tried to envision the light as beams hitting her skin, pelting her like the rain of Petrichor. And then she imagined those beams missing her, skidding off her skin and shooting away. It felt like a cool breeze on hot, sweat-laced skin, and she knew that it was working. She allowed the sensation to travel up across her body, lines of light tracing her contours but not touching her and not going through, only around. Her vision darkened and she blinked rapidly, remembering to allow a bit of light to hit only her eyes. The first time she'd done this successfully, she'd blinded herself and Shay had to explain that bending the light away from her eyes would do that. So when she and Shay were done, they were each just a pair of floating pupils, small and dark enough to hopefully avoid notice. She tried her very best not to laugh about it.

Blood

Two things happened at once. Shay and the magic he'd summoned vanished as if they were never there, because they weren't. And Thallow cried out, dropping to the ground. "Thallow!" Chelsea reached for him and both she and Meshyl collapsed. Thallow clutched at his side, his teeth clenched. When Chelsea looked up, she saw that Marr was standing with his rifle raised, pointing at Thallow, his face twisted into a snarl. Just beyond him, Quincy fired wildly into the night while Reaver tried to drag him back with one hand, the other gripping his rifle still. "It's just a graze," Thallow bit out, pulling his hand away from his side where it was slick with blood. The rain watered it down almost instantly so that it ran like watercolor off the side of his hand.

Fall

It turned and walked away. Solika took a step after it. But she was unarmed. Its movements were fluid and smooth and as the light caught on its arms, they gleamed wickedly like scythes. If she fought it now, it would give her a fight, certainly, but it would only put Bela in danger. She let it go. Its invitation was obviously a trap. Just look at what happened as soon as she and Bela had arrived on SD-5R9. She wasn't going to fall for that a second time. But she would definitely be seeing it again. This was far from over.

Slide

Shay's face loomed out of the rain, his hair sopping and dripping into his eyes. And beyond him, a hooded figure held up a lantern, its bright light burning through the haze of rain. In his other hand he held something the size of a remote control, emitting that ringing whine that seemed to squirm under Chelsea's skin and slide across the bones of her inner ear. She spun back around, looking for her mom, but she wasn't there. "What?" She cast about frantically. She was just here. She was just here! "Where is she? Shay, let me go. I saw my mom!" Her voice broke and briefly matched the whine of the stranger's device. She wanted to cry. She might already be crying, her tears mixing with the rain. Her chest constricted and her stomach shuddered with the beginnings of a sob. "We have to get inside; follow me." The hooded figure swung his lantern around, the beam flashing across Chelsea's eyes and temporarily blinding her. She blinked and made out a shape beneath the dripping hood, eyes shadowed and mouth a thin line. And then he hurried through the rain and Shay pulled Chelsea after him.

[onedismay]

Mass Effect Tag Game

Stole this thing from @messydiabolical. :)c Anyone is welcome to steal it from me as well!

-

I am a fan since: Forgot what year it was but I remember ME2 had already been out for a while before I bought ME1. But I caught up quickly and got to experience the release of the Arrival DLC in real time. :D

Favourite game of the series?: It's hard to pick between 1 and 2, but I'll say 2 because the concept of loyalty missions is MY JAM. Also ME2 is my favorite graphics-wise, it's got that high contrast I love so much. (hate the simplified skill trees though)

MShep or FShep?: Most of my Sheps are fSheps because the character creator for mSheps isn't versatile enough for me. :( Where's the long hair! Let me look impractical!

Earthborn, Colonist or Spacer?: I might slightly prefer Earthborn. I enjoy playing characters who've had a rough start in life and made some bad decisions, but grew up to become decent people anyway.

Biotics or Tech: Can't pick, I like variety!

Paragon or Renegade: peace for everybody in the galaxy :') But I reeeaally love the Renegade eyes so I do have some mean Sheps as well.

Favourite Class: I used to main the Infiltrator class but in my most recent run I really enjoyed the Adept. Hard to pick a favorite but I do know my favorite class is NOT the Sentinel, it always feels clunky to me somehow.

Favourite Companion: Tali or Javik. Kaidan and Thane are nearby too. Tali's character development feels very natural and wonderful to me on every playthrough and I always love to see it. Javik is a fave because he's haunted and completely alone and that combo always hooks me like, I MUST see to it that this sad man has at least one nice thing in his life.

Least favourite Companion: It's the writers' fault but Liara. It gets really old when the same companion treats you like her love interest in all 3 games no matter what. I haaaate forced hugs in roleplaying games, don't put me through that, it'll ruin the character for me.

My squad selection: In my most recent playthrough it was unsurprisingly Javik and Tali. But I also ran with Vega quite often in the early game and I kinda missed him in the end game, haha.

Favourite In-game romance: Kaidan, especially with mShep because I really enjoy a slow burn of several years. 🔥

Other pairings I like: I am motioning at my blog and presenting to you Tazzik and the Shadow Broker...... no i don't have anything else to offer at this time

Favourite NPC: I like all these shady-ass salarians like Anoleis and Jaroth and Maelon and Linron (yes) (no i'm not defending her, i just find mean characters interesting sometimes) and Chorban and probably others. Valern isn't all that shady but still a fave. Charn! And Balak, I always look forward to finding out how my Shepard reacts to him. Zaal'Koris vas Qwib-Qwib I always loved you and I knew you were the best admiral before ME3 ever happened

Favourite Antagonist: the Shadow Broker, I was so into the mystery in ME1 and man I was not disappointed when we got the reveal. I would have loved to learn more about his early life.

Favourite Mission: ME2's Suicide Mission because I lovvve how it's a culmination of all your previous actions. It felt really scary and chaotic on my first playthrough and like anything could happen. Now I know all the mechanics so nothing surprises me, but I still look forward to seeing every little detail play out.

Favourite Loyalty Mission: Tali. Also Mordin. And Samara, ugghhh I love Omega and I love playing bait uwu

Favourite DLC: Hmmm I love about half of LotSB very much but I might like Bring Down the Sky more as a whole? The mood is great, it's not super long, and nothing about it annoys me. :D I've only played the Leviathan DLC once so far so I'm not confident enough to call it a fave yet but I liked it a lot, too.

Control, Synthesis or Destroy: I just wanted an ending where we finally talk the Reapers down and they go "yeah u right actually, let's not fight anymore. :( handshake?". All this star child borderline magic stuff is kinda goofy to me. I've picked Destroy almost every time tho.

Favourite Weapon: Recently enjoyed the Blood Pack Executioner... Historically I've probably used the Widow the most. Also I LOVE the way the Revenant looks but I can't stand using it myself lmao. My hand hurts just thinking about it.

Favourite Place: nnnoooo there's so many good places. I adore the Shadow Broker's ship, first of all. Such a cool concept. Noveria for the snow and miserable people. Feels like home. I loved visiting the Migrant Fleet! But my absolute favorite place is probably Omega because it's so rough yet there's still a weird sense of community.

A quote I like: The first that came to mind is "I have a home." Idk, I don't really remember quotes unless they're repeated over and over and by that point I start hating them.

[samcoesclub]

Get to know my OC

thanks so much 2 @silurisanguine for tagging me! i’m sure most of you guys have been tagged so anyone that sees this and wants to do it can consider themselves tagged by me

Fandom: Starfield

Role: Spacefarer

cw for mentions of aurora use (not by character)

Basics

Full Name: Indiana (Coe) - never had a last name prior to marrying Sam.

Nickname(s): Indy, not so affectionately called many other names by Spacers by virtue of all the bounties he’s cashed in on

Pronouns: He/Him

Sexuality: Bisexual

Occupation and Titles: Bounty Hunter as soon as he acquired his first ship (and probably before that, when he was just operating on Neon, but it isn’t quite the same). Explorer and Occasional Bounty Hunter once he joins up with Constellation

Birthday and Age: He doesn’t know his birthday, and he’s never celebrated it. His mom was always too out of her mind to remember, if she ever knew in the first place, but he loved her anyways. He always just counted it as turning a new age with the new year.

He’s 29 when the events of the game start, 30 by the time he and Sam get married

Physical Description: 6’ 1”, not super muscular but definitely built. Tattoo across his face along with the burn scars from the fire that killed his mom

Clothing Style: Loose jackets and cyberpunk tops, but when working outside on his ship or lounging, tanktop and loose pants. Before he left Neon, he’d always donned more cyberpunk-esque gear (a la cyberware streetwear), but once he left the city and made it into space, more Space Rogue attire

Background

Neon Street Rat, Wanted, Spaced

Before he was a crate rat turned to the streets, he had a family—a mom that loved him even if she loved the Aurora just as much after his dad, her husband, got shot. The fire in the underbelly that spread to the sleepcrate he’d saved money from stealing and scrounging and begging to help his mother buy took her life and marred his face.

After the fire, people on the street told him it hurt to look at him—oftentimes with a sneer, so he covered his face for years, sleeping under awnings and tents in Ebbside and the underbelly. He tried working an honest job, but nowhere would hire a kid off the street, so the easiest thing was to sell his soul for credits. A local bounty hunter, taking out Neon targets? Certainly. A vigilante to a certain extent? Also possible. (He would tell himself that all of these people were bad. They all committed crimes. They all had crossed the wrong people. It would sometimes make him feel better. Most times it wouldn’t. But it was what he was good at, and after a while, he got used to killing or taking marks in).

Scrounging and saving credits from Neon jobs, he finally got enough for a ship, some better weapons, and supplies to get the hell out of Neon as soon as his local notoriety became almost too much. He couldn’t be a ghost where the light penetrates.

And after he got out of Neon, Spacers hated his guts. The Crimson Fleet hated his guts. They came to know his MO.

He’s been hunting through space for nearing 12 years when he hears about a job, someone posing as a miner, but they can’t be sure who. It’s a big payout. Maybe if he does this job, he can stop killing for a while—stop hunting. A pipedream. It’s all he’s ever been good at. He’s never tried much else.

His quarry becomes the luckiest person alive when he gets zapped by the artifact.

Combat and Skills

Preferred Fighting Style: Start the engagement from far out, push in when he’s picked off the outside combatants. His love for anything with a scope makes this best

Favorite weapon: Anything with a scope

Special skills: Ballistic weapons, piloting, reading to become competent at something quickly, and apparently very good at doing voices when he reads out loud—so much so that Cora makes him and Sam split reading duties

Relationships

Family: Parents are dead, and prior to Constellation, he drifted through space mostly alone. But he’s happy to say he considers Constellation his family.

Love interest: Sam Coe

Best friend: Andreja 🐍 they understand each other on a molecular level

art by jazz.medic on ig 💞🫶

[eridanidreams]

Snippet Sunday

Tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon @violenceandviolets, and @artemis-crimson

from stars through my fingers like grains of sand

"Engaging grav drive," Cait said, touching a control; guitars shrieked and the universe opened up to receive them in a waterfall of light.

If you like to gamble I tell you I'm your man

If twice was a pattern, Cait really liked music when she was dogfighting.

Win some, lose some

It's all the same to me

Sam was on the stick; the second they dropped out of jump, he re-allocated power to the weapons. Good thing, too—Cait was equally quick to respond, sending the Razorleaf in a sharp dive after a Spacer Raccoon. It was a maneuver that would have left the Frontier groaning, but the 'Leaf took it in stride. The radio crackled to life; Spacers transmitting in the clear for intimidation effect. "Looky here, boys, we got ourselves a mark!" Cait just rolled around an asteroid, easy as dancing, while she waited for a targeting lock.

The pleasure is to play

Makes no difference what you say

A second voice came on. "Aw, honey, don't run. You just hit the wrong place at the wrong—" Another voice cut in. "Fuck—it's the Mantis! THE MANTIS!!!" The Raccoon abruptly stopped firing and tried to slew away, but—

I don't share your greed

The only card I need

Is the Ace of Spades—the Ace of Spades

"LOCK!" Sam snapped, as the firing solution came together, and the Razorleaf's weapons fired in anger for the first time in years. Cait had opted for dual particle-beams instead of the basic laser/ballistic combination, and they punched through the Raccoon's shields like they were tissue paper. "Got their grav drive!" Cait twisted the 'Leaf to drop in behind a Hyena, and Sam knew what she was doing; the Raccoon wasn't going anywhere; having crippled the small fry, she was going after the heavier hitter. They took a few hits—shields dropped to 80%—before putting a rock between them and the Raccoon.

"No way," the first voice snarled. "Scan that morph-suck—shit! Spin up the drives! SPIN UP THE DRIVES!" Sam couldn't help but laugh at the way the Spacer's menace turned so utterly to panic. "We're leaving—we're leaving! FASTER!"

"No, you're not," Cait growled, as the targeting lock sang out in counterpoint to the driving music. "Firing!" P-beams lanced out, invisible to the naked eye, but their effect was quite visible. The Hyena's shields flared yellow, then white, then actinic blue. Sam launched his missiles; they punched through the tattered remants of the Hyena's screens just before they failed entirely. There was just enough of them left to hold the explosion in; the Hyena's spine snapped in two as the reactor blew. "Nice shot!" Cait flipped the 'Leaf end-for-end and arrowed back toward the Raccoon.

"Please," the second voice blubbered. "Please, don't kill us—" Lasers spattered against the Razorleaf's shields, and above the din came the sharp, warning whine of incoming missiles.

"Shields at 40—30—!" Sam's harness bit into his shoulders as Cait hit the boost. The enemy missiles streaked past them harmlessly; Sam watched the Raccoon roll, trying to line up on where they thought the 'Leaf would be. Cait dropped the throttle to nearly nothing and let the Raccoon overshoot—right into her sights. Once again, the p-beams did their work, and the Raccoon detonated soundlessly.

The entire engagement had lasted about as long as the song had.

[ryaiga]

WIP- Price x Reader (x Ghost maybe?)

Yes i know there isn’t a title to this, but wanted to see how others think about it. Here’s a small snippet from the first chapter, kinda aiming for 5k words minimum so it’ll take a bit of time till I feel satisfied with the first chapter. Not to mention college started. A/N: (N/N) Nickname, spacers/dividers by @mmadeinheavenn and @imlevis , not my Gif, found it on google.

Laswell had informed him of the prestigious yet silent soldier that was being considered for his team. He’d lost a recruit in an earlier deployment, one he took to heart. Like many from the past, another scar added, that lay permanent by his chest and the haunting that left him shaking and restless at night, another one failed by his very leadership. Making even the unshakeable captain wake in cold sweats and trembling and to his vices in the attempts to be grounded to earth once more. So to hear that he was getting a new member, that was asl or more skilled than the one before, meant that the military was willing to sacrifice yet another valuable asset if it meant that his team was complete from every angle. A well trained sniper, hardy in hand to hand, a versatile team player yet nothing more than your skills were known. Similar to his lieutenant, You were an enigma. Not even a drop of ink was placed about your past and how you came about the military. Your file had a picture, a battle hardened soldier who completed every mission with ease and precision of high caliber, but no other name besides (N/N). You hadn’t been rewarded with a callsign, no one knew enough about you to even give a title to your talents, unlike Soap or Ghost. Price read up on your previous missions, but to his disappointment (or amazement), every debrief on the details stated that no one saw how you executed. It was always done and over with by the time the rest came to you, and it happens within mere seconds. A regal display of crimson red, a mural of your skill assets that leaves even your lieutenant in fear of ever being your enemy. However, No one was ready for what was to come. For you’d gain a title like no other, a prestige as high as the greatest artist known to man, the difference being that it came not from art. But from your ungodly fits to kill and survive, a display left out to strike fear in any person who wronged you.

Price and his team sat in the helo, adrenaline slowly creeping along their nerves as they awaited for the pilot's call to jump. “Hope we get there in time, wouldn't it be good if we found ‘em KIA. Laswell seemed rather fond of the enigma.” Ghost briefly spoke, an utter breath that Price barely caught. Nodding in response, Price wanted to see what you were. How you handled the predicament you were in, knowing full well if it was one of his men, that they wouldn’t even think of breaking. Could he blame you? Not even your company had knowledge that you were against a group of skilled mercenaries guising as cartels selling American weapons on middle eastern soil. He’d seen what they’ve done to the soldiers before you, they never made it home and if they did, it was a closed casket ceremony. Needless to say you were in desperate need of saving if you even want to think of coming out alive. Ghost reminds the rest that they aren’t to hope too highly of your chances, another tag and body bag might be amongst them on their return. A slim chance that you’d even be crawling out that hellscape. It was a bad omen that Price hated, he didn’t like the thought of a rescue being a failed attempt before it even began. Before he could even try to save the person. The helo landed miles away from the building, too many for the team’s liking. It meant time was wasted traversing the dunes, and time was not on their side.

Sorry for any grammatical errors, it’s my first fanfic ;v;  Any feed back is welcomed!