#starfield fanfiction wip

[zermbie-dergon]

Snippet Sunday

I wasn't tagged but I saw quite a few people posting snippets and figured I would give it a shot.

This is from a rough draft I am writing. Sam and my female oc in the lodge after finding the first temple

Enjoy!

~

“What if there’s someone out there that finds out what we have? And they decide to take it for themselves by any means? Or the powers... what... what if I can’t control them? What if at some point I destroy something or hurt someone? Fuck, what if I kill one of you by-by mistake? I...I... Sam, I am so fucking scared.”   

Tears burned her eyes as she turned away from the flames to look at Sam. The concerned look on his face only made her eyes burn more.

Sam sighed. “Being scared means you’re human, this is... It’s hard to wrap your head around it. I can’t even imagine what it’s like for you. But you’re not alone in this, you know that right?”

Cady swiped at the tears starting to run down her face. “I know,” she sniffled. “My head is just a jumbled mess right now and I wish it would quiet down, even if it was only for two or three minutes. Just to give me a second to breathe.”

“Sounds like you need a distraction.” Sam said, his eyes moving about the room like he was looking for something.

Too exhausted to wonder what he was doing, Cady rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes. She felt Sam get up off the couch and for a moment she thought he had decided to leave her alone until she heard him fiddling with something to her right.

Before she could ask what he was up to, music began to fill the sitting area, a slow strumming guitar and a matching drumbeat. Cady opened her eyes and picked her head up to see Sam walking back towards her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Sam gave her a coy smile. “You said you wanted 2 to 3 minutes and that’s about the length of a song, isn't it?” 

“Yeah I suppose so.”

Cady heard Sam take a breath before he reached out and offered his hand to her. She glanced at the hand for a moment before making her way up to his face. A slight pink flush blossomed across his cheeks as he gave her a small smile.

“May I, uh, have this dance?”

[fangbangerghoul]

Fang's A03 Masterpost

Updated Version: 12/15/24 WC: 197,173 Rated: M *links within the titles of each fic

Starfield:

1. Neon City Delights (completed) TW: Drug use, SA, Cannon Violence 2. Settling with the Stars (completed) TW: Cannon Violence, Alcohol 3. Fleeting Pleasures (completed) <Masterpost> TW: Violence, Murder, Addiction, CNC 4. Cellar Door (on hiatus) TW: Grief, Isolation, SA 5. Heavy Metal Lover (in progress) (Fic Masterpost) Tw: cannon violence 6. Capacity Limit (Sam Coe x fem!reader) TW: Bondage, Cannon Violence 7. Tear You Apart (Pirate Sam Coe x fem!reader) TW: CNC, Facefucking, bondage, light forced voyeurism, it's very explicit and it's a pirate being a pirate so just be wary. This isn't your Sam Coe from Kansas anymore. 8. soft leather and spurs (softdom!Sam x fem!reader) Tw: praise kink, soft breeding kink, language? 9. Ghoul Adventures (Halloweenedition, on hiatus) 10. Ghoul Files (a miniseries in progress)

My Time at Sandrock:

1. That Damn Rock (completed) fem!builder x Owen Tw: Fluff, slice of life, maybe a smooch 2. What Did I Get Myself Into? (completed) fem!builder x Owen TW: Fluff, slice of life, fun stuff 3. Absolute Zero (completed) fem!builder x Qi 4. Yakmilk Supplement (on hiatus) fem!builder x Penn TW: stalking, delusions 5. Over Exposure (in progress) fem!builder x (Logan, Unsuur, Catori, Commander Lefu, Owen) TW: trauma, kidnapping, violence, sa

Baldur's Gate 3:

1. Thorny Feelings (completed) OC Ghoul x Bearlytolerable's OC Valentine Blanche TW: smut, anal, cunnilingus, light bdsm, magic 2. 100 Followers Celebration - Bloodweave (completed) Gale x Astarion Tw: fluff, hurt/comfort kind of 3. 100 Followers Celebration - Calm Nights (completed) Halsin x Astarion x Ghoul Tw: bathtub, relaxation

Southern Vampire Mystery/True Blood:

1. 100 Followers Celebration - Yearning Stars (completed) Sookie Stackhouse x Eric Northman

Dragon's Dogma 2:

1. Voracious Oblivion (in progress) Arisen x Pawn ft The Boys Tw: cannon violence, yearning, plotty

Dragon Age:

1. Elgara Vallas (in progress) NB!Dalish Rook x undetermined; plotty, cannon violence, Veilguard story with flare

[aro-pancake-writes]

What? Me? Two wips in a row?

Yup! The plot bunnies are breeding like... Well, bunnies! And the Creatikitty that hunts them is doing his job.

So, yay! \o/

Tag list? @eridanidreams @silent-moons-camp @silurisanguine @aislingdmdt @atonalginger

Back to Mars

Mars. Out of all the backwater dreadful places in the galaxy, this is the worst one. Hector spent almost ten years in the deep mines, and then some in Cydonia.

Not that the company wasn't great.

“Why are we here again?” Sam asks as they step out of the trade authority to go downstairs to the Sixth Circle.

“Hadrian needs someone who worked with her before. And he's here.” Hector says, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. “Hope this will be a straight forward job.” He comments, finally on the ground.

As they go around to enter the bar, a familiar voice is hard.

“As I live and breathe.” Hector looks to the source, finding Trevor heading his way, smiling at him. “Thought you said you'd never set foot on this rock again, pet.”

“Didn't really mean to.” He says, crossing his arms over his stomach.

When he left, Hector didn't say goodbye. He didn't want to be held back, to consider staying in Cydonia.

But nothing about Trevor's posture says he holds a grudge.

“So, what changed?” He asks Hector, stopping close to him, with a gentle smile and open arms.

“Some things… a lot, actually.” Hector starts, taking a shy step towards Trevor.

Only to be stopped by a loud cough behind him.

“Oh, right!” He takes a hasty step back, working on how to introduce them. “Sam, this is Trevor. We… worked together here on Mars.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Sam says, cold, before turning back to Hector. “I'll wait for you inside. Apparently you two got a lot to catch up on.”

With that, Sam is gone.

“What stick has he got up his arse?” Trevor asks, making Hector turn back to him. “Not yours, I hope.” There's a sly smile, a small glimmer of hope that things could work out again.

“Too far up my league.” Hector tries to laugh it off. Yet, he can't help but notice the curious glance from Trevor.

“Come on, pet.” He offers Hector his best smile, one he knew to always work. “If anyone's out of someone's league here it's you.”

“And here you go, dragging me back to your quarters…” Hector laughs, leaning closer to Trevor, who hugs him.

“Haven't lost my charms over you, have I, Pet?” Hector trembles as Trevor says the pet name, blood leaving his brain and going to other parts of his body.

His pants are tight, and they both know there's only one way of fixing this.

“Trevor, please…” Hector almost moans, peeling himself from Trevor's arms. “Not now. I'm here on business.”

“You look so pretty when you're all about business.” Trevor smiles, one last attempt at working his charms before turning back to return to work. “If you wanna, Pet, my quarters are still the same and you know what time I leave. Why don't you pay me a visit once you're done with your ‘business’?”

Giggling, Hector fixes his pants, ties his jacket around his waist and heads into the bar.

Lou wasn't of much help. Not with the Trade Authority on top of their mark. Only one small glimmer of hope, but it requires the deep mines.

Killing spacers is often a relief, but not if it means that people will be back to work in this hellhole.

Hector cusses all the way to the entrance, anger taking over as he mumbles to himself.

“So…” Sam's voice cuts off his latest string of curses. “Who was that?”

“I told you.” Hector says, turning his scanner on and off again to have something to do with his hands. “We worked together here on Mars. He was a friend, and then I left.”

“Just a friend?” Hector feels the ice shards on Sam's voice when he speaks, and confirms. “Because last I checked, friends don't call eachother ‘pet’.”

Hector turns back to Sam, seeing red. As much as the former miner found himself fond of the cowboy, that wasn't exactly a subtle question.

“Fine. We used to fuck, ok?” Hector says, a seductive smile playing on his lips. “We would go to his quarters after a long shift, where he'd toss me on his bed and fuck me until we were both too exhausted to move. That what you wanted to hear? Or would you like to do something similar with me?”

[therealgchu]

WIP Wednesday - To the Shore

i have been so obnoxiously busy with work that i've missed updating. but, fall should be quieter.

i finished the new chapter for To the Shore last night, just needs to be edited. but, it won't be going up till probably monday as i'll be at nan desu kan starting thursday afternoon.

so, here's a sneak peek of the upcoming chapter called "Family"

if you want to read To the Shore from the beginning, it lives over on ao3.

my other stuff on ao3.

who doesn't like puns?

Hwa got the joke for once and laughed, “I’m sorry, I’m not good at…” and she gestured with her hands spinning, “this. Conversation. Small talk. Whatever.”

“Nobody says we have to make small talk. We could make big talk. What do you want to talk about?” he asked warmly.

She laughed lightly at the joke all the while searching her head for a topic. Finally, she found her voice, “When did you come to Constellation?” she asked.

“Good question, and my favorite topic, me!” he laughed self-deprecatingly. “Ervin brought me in back, oh what was it, 2305, if I’m remembering right. We’d just gotten married and I had finished defending my doctoral thesis. You want to hear what it was?”

Hwa nodded, “Sure,” she answered and handed him another plate.

“‘Gravitational Waves’ Effects on Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle, or How I Stopped Worrying About Einstein and Learned to Love the Unified Theory,” he answered cheekily.

She turned to him gobsmacked, frozen in place with a dirty pan in her hands, dripping on the floor.

“Pretty catchy title, huh?” he asked waggling his eyebrows.

She opened and closed her mouth several times in an excellent imitation of a beached fish.

“Yeah, made quite the waves,” he chuckled, “see what I did there?” She finally found her voice and laughed at the pun. Barrett grinned broadly, “Sam said you liked good puns.”

“That was a bad pun,” she protested, shaking her head, but still laughing.

“Puns are the perfect manifestation of Schrodinger’s Cat,” he declared, “we never know how it will land.”

“Isn’t that more like the Uncertainty Principle?” Hwa asked.

“Nope. Schrodinger’s Cat says we can’t know, with precision, a pun’s quality, or if it will even land,” he rebutted.

“Whether a pun will land is an element of its quality, isn’t it?” she asked. “So, that makes the quality and if it will land redundant. The only question then is, is it good or bad, and only the intended audience can observe that. Ergo, Uncertainty Pun.”

Barrett peered at her closely, then guffawed, “It’s a good thing you weren’t on the committee for my thesis!” He clapped her on her back as she smiled smugly. “And here you said that you’re not good at conversation.”

Hwa blushed bright red at the compliment and stared at the floor. “Barrett, you trying to move in on my woman?” she heard Sam say coming up from behind her.

“Sam, my man! Wouldn’t dream of it,” Barrett exclaimed, but gave her a saucy wink that he knew Sam could see, which made her blush even more. “Just helping to finish the dishes,” he said and placed the last dish away. “Which, I might ask, where were you?”

Sam put his arm around Hwa and kissed her on her head, “Sarah wanted to discuss some things about Cora and what sort of things to teach her,” he answered.

“Hrmph. Seems a convenient excuse,” Barrett said, tossing the towel onto Sam’s arm. He grinned back at Hwa, “Come grab me anytime you want to talk physics. And, bring Cora. I have far better puns than Sam. Ask her,” he winked at Hwa again, then walked to the living area and sat down next to Sarah. Hwa stood stock still and as red as a cherry, not knowing what to do or say.

Sam leaned over and looked at her face, “Boo,” he whispered.

She jumped as if she hadn’t even known he was there. “What happened?” she asked, flummoxed.

He moved to face her, “I think Barrett was flirting with you,” he said, his voice sounding oddly tight.

“Why?” Hwa asked, confusion writ large over her entire face.

Sam sighed, “Why not?” he replied rhetorically. “It’s Barrett. Does it bother you? If it does, I can talk to him,” he offered in a slightly higher pitch.

“No, it doesn’t really bother me,” she answered, still dazed by the interaction. “I’m just not good at this. Not used to it,” she rushed to finish.

“I know,” he nodded and hugged her with one arm. “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“You said I should try to get to know everyone better. I suppose this is part of it, right? she asked.

Again, Sam sighed, his arm getting a tad tighter, “Yes, that it is.”

[atonalginger]

WIP Wednesday

Ho-ho-ho to all who celebrate and happy Wednesday to those who don't. It's a day and I do have something I'm pretty sure I haven't shared that doesn't spoil anything and so why not share, right?

I've hit a rut where my brain just decided it didn't know what I was talking about when I asked it to focus on writing. I still have story left to go but somehow it's very overwhelmed. At this point I don't know...maybe it's holiday stress manifesting as writer's block. Maybe it's imposter syndrome shitting shit down. Could be any number of things.

Part of me feels like I've been 'sitting on this one' too long but I didn't want to start posting chapters until it was done because I need to do a start to finish edit pass and...Gods it's a long fucking road still to the end.

anyway...I had a snippet....Fox's POV and it's with all the adults at the Liberated's HQ which is set in a creation club house on Cassiopeia I with a ... fancy secret room. You'll see sort of in the read more below:

“Is this what it would look like?” Bella asked.

“It’s a one to one replica,” Jay sidestepped closer, “right down to the twinkling lights.”

“Sort of reminds me of the buried temple,” Sam said as he walked down the carved stone steps to rejoin the group, “only much, much shinier.”

“And it is weird that there is caelumite deposits,” Fox added.

“But it doesn’t appear to do anything,” Jay said quickly, “might be once upon a time a starborn decided to build themselves a palace, fancied themselves a princess and everything, and then one day got bored and abandoned this place.”

“You really don’t think it does anything?” Del asked.

“We could always try hitting it with something,” Fox said with a shrug, “but no…I don’t think it does a damn thing other than look cool.”

“Mierda,” Del grumbled and kicked at one of the grooves in the platform, “knew I shouldn’t have got my hopes up.”

“It was worth trying,” Rokov said as he leaned against one of the metal pillars, “and now we all know this room is here.”

“Yes, we do,” Bella looked back at Delgado, “do not keep secrets like this from me again.”

He stared back at her, oscillating between defense and defeat. He was the boss. The one who decided what was important, what was shared, and when. And yet he knew there was no winning with her.

“I don’t see what Del did being that wrong,” Sam said as he ran his fingers through his hair, “he ran enough tests to know it wasn’t an active threat and locked it down so no one could fuck with it. We’ve known security around this place was tight, so any threats this might have attracted were going to be met with a hell of a lot of resistance, and it’s not like you and the kids lived here full time. This isn’t much different from when Solomon found the Empty Nest.”

“The what?” Bella spun around with furrowed brows, “Solomon found weird starborn shit?”

“Apparently,” Sam shrugged and chuckled, “not that he knew what he found. It was a cave a stone’s throw from where he ended up building a home. What began Akila City. He called it that because he found that none of the wildlife would go near it. It was a perfect nest but completely empty. He never told anyone much more about what he found and I never thought a thing about it until the Lodge started seriously hunting the artifacts.”

“His notes were on point too,” Jay noted, “not even ashta would mess with the cave or the surrounding area…until I pulled the plate. Shaw was so busy fending off a curious pack that she didn’t notice us leaving with our prize.”

Bella took another look around the chamber before dropping her hands to her sides and marching toward the door, “we’re locking this back up. We’re adding more locks. No one is messing with this. As far as I’m concerned it does not fucking exist.”

“That was my original plan, mi amor,” Del said as he followed close behind, “I only brought it up I thought maybe they might know more…”

“They’re going to be that way for a while,” Rokov said with a sigh, “I should go find the little ones. Maybe see if they want to go for a swim.”

“I can help with that,” Sam tipped his hat and joined Rokov as he walked out of the chamber.

With only the twins remaining Fox walked over to the armillary and watched as the rings spun around. It really was just like the ones they found in the temples. Even the engravings matched. But it was inert; no energy resonated from the plates, no song tugged at their soul. It was a forgery.

“I can’t shake the feeling that the artifacts are somehow related to whatever was going on with that grav-jumping star station,” Jay said, her voice barely a whisper, “Frost never would have given her those notes had he known it could lead her into danger…right?”

“He would never intentionally put his Bookworm in danger,” Fox hugged his twin close, “and those two aren’t helpless. Remember that incident out on Cassiopeia IV-c? Or the story Manny shared about getting jumped during a supply run? Those two are tough and whatever is happening I believe they can handle it.”

“I want to share your confidence,” Jay buried her face in his shoulder as she fought back tears, “I very much want to believe you.”

Fox hugged her tighter and shared the belief that kept him sane, “Together nothing in the starfield could stop them.”

[toxiclizardwrites]

WIP Wednesday

I'm finally finding the time to wrap up Chapter 10 of Love and Rage. It's not quite done yet, but here is an excerpt: ---------------

Jazz paced the ship depot, her arms folded across her chest. Naeva was on her way, and she had run out of excuses as to why the Comspike wasn't ready yet. It was easy enough to dismantle from the prototype ship to transfer to Delgado’s, but building a new one from scratch was a completely different story. She bit her lower lip in frustration and stared at the blueprints that lay scattered on her desk. It would take at least another week to get the design right, and then another to find the right parts to create another Comspike. Some of the tech needed was difficult to get and expensive, and the Fleet’s finances were already in the red. Naeva would not be happy. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar sound of boots on metal as Naeva made her way down the hallway to the ship depot. Jazz took a breath as Naeva’s face came into view. These days, she didn't look like the Naeva that Jazz knew. Her eyes didn't have that cocky look anymore. Instead, they burned with hatred and a constant hunger for revenge. Jazz felt like she had to walk on eggshells around the woman that was once the love of her life, the woman who held her and laughed with her. Tears started welling up in Jazz’s eyes as she longed for the past, but she quickly blinked them away as Naeva approached.

“You know why I'm here angel”

The nickname would have once caused an involuntary smile to form on the ship technician’s lips, but now it sent an uneasy shiver down her spine. Jazz briefly wondered if she would ever feel that smile form again. 

“the design is finalized, but we need specialized parts. Once we get those, I estimate it will take about a week to build and install,” she said, walking over to the blueprints and running her hands over them like they had some secret that would save her from this conversation. 

Naeva scoffed and came up behind her, leaning forward so her mouth was near Jazz’s ear. “See the interesting thing is,” she started, the words causing every hair on Jazz’s neck to stand up, “we shouldn't need parts when the prototype ship had a working Comspike on it.” 

She clicked her tongue and rose to a standing position. “So I think, and by all means, angel, correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you're lying to me.” 

Jazz turned from the desk and opened her mouth to speak, but Naeva held a finger to her lips. “Don't. Don't fucking tell me.” She pushed her finger off of Jazz’s mouth and pulled out her dagger, flipping it around in her fingers. Jazz backed away, but the dagger was at her throat before she knew what happened. 

“To think,” Naeva said, her mouth inches away from Jazz’s face, “my love, my angel, would do such a thing,” her eyes shifted to meet Jazz’s gaze, the dagger still present and threatening at her throat. “Help a weakling. Help a traitor.” She emphasized the last word like it made her sick to utter. 

Tears rolled down Jazz’s face but anger welled up in her eyes. “He's my captain,” she said softly. “He saved me, took me in when I had nowhere to go…” Naeva growled and in some swift motion, pulled the dagger back and threw it forward so hard that it grazed Jazz’s face, leaving a line of Crimson behind, and with a thunk, stuck in the wall behind her. 

“Oh he saved me” she mocked, “well what about me? I loved you, I gave you everything.”

Jazz tried her best to stifle her sobs as anger and sadness took over. “Naeva, you're not yourself. Just stop,” she begged, trying to reach forward to touch her girlfriend. “You were loyal to Delgado. To the Fleet. It isn't too late.” 

Naeva took two steps forward and looked down at Jazz, their noses almost touching. “I'm going to find him and kill him.” She said with vitriol. “And since you won't help me, it looks like I have no choice but to get you out of the way.” 

A small nod and four hands were on Jazz’s shoulders and hips. “What are you doing?” 

Naeva didn't say a word as the pirates pushed Jazz forward and told her to walk. 

“You're going to the brigg.” Naeva said simply. “While you're there, you can think about who you're loyal to.” 

Jazz didn't bother to struggle as she was led out of the ship depot. “Naeva,” she whispered through tears, but she didn't respond.

[notyourramona]

When I try to write in Sam's perspective its always with like Nine inch nails, Soundgarden, and that alt/grunge time period of rock. Some light dad rock is sometimes included like Nickleback and maybe a little Van Halen.

I just feel like that 'seduction of sadness' grunge/rock music mirrors well with his inner thoughts.

[expended-sleeper]

WIP Wednesday Sunday

Thanks for the tag, @dirty-bosmer and @kookaburra1701 and anyone else who has tagged me in one of these in past weeks. Happy to finally be writing and sharing again.

Started a Starfield fic, of all things—the seventh ever posted on AO3, apparently. But the writing excitement has returned, which is probably the important thing.

In the historical records, everything on Vesta happened quickly: scholars claim that FC colonists first settled down in 2307, and that by the end of 2308 every one of those farmers had been killed by UC soldiers. In Freestar space today, the massacre is a rallying cry. Martyrs yell 'Remember Vesta' into communications channels before launching their missiles at civilian shuttles or ramming their ships into military satellites. All rogue agents now, of course. The Colony War officially ended almost twenty years ago. Peace reigns in the Settled Systems—the uneasy peace of the survivors, and the certain peace of the dead.

In the histories everything happened quickly, but Cedar Brontë knew better. She'd been born in 2295, when the number of families on Vesta could have been counted on two hands. Born between wars, born in a wash of too much blood. Her mother was the first human to ever die on that cursed planet.

Years before the United Colonies turned its deadly attention towards Vesta, Eliza Brontë had been put into the lonely ground. As a child, Cedar often visited that strange monument: a hunk of stone hidden amidst rainbow flowers and spiny hackti, a hunk of stone that represented only an idea. Mother. Here once, now gone. Daddy went quiet whenever Cedar asked about her, and he never visited the grave.

Soon enough Eliza was less lonely underneath that soil, as other families settled and buried their own dead. Old grandparents who passed all natural and peaceful. The odd victim of a farming accident or shuttle crash. War was still a distant memory and an unknown future. Life took root on Vesta and did well enough there for a time. Humanity enforced its familiar cycles on the alien world, working from long practice. People lived and died and laughed and worked and wept and danced.

Cedar, lonely on the ranch but well-spoiled by her father, came to love her home as most well-loved children do. She spent hours in her family's library reading of adventurers roaming out in the vast starscape. She read of space pirates and fanatics and politicians, of Collectives and Colonies—all abstract ideas, distant and imaginary. Her world was the ranch: it was a small and cozy world, and Cedar had little reason to question why they raised no livestock as their neighbors did. She never wondered where her father's money came from. A week after her tenth birthday, Cedar's father took her hand and led her out to his workshop. She watched him scan his thumbprint and unlock the door that had been forbidden to her all of her life. Alien odors drifted out to greet them, scents she knew from her father's clothing: oil and sulfur, chemical and flame, ash and coolant. "Daddy?" she asked. All of a sudden, looking at that forbidden place now open to her, she could not move her feet. "It's okay." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. There was a hardness in his expression that was as unfamiliar as it was frightening. "This is my work, honey. I've wanted to show you for so long. It was your mother's work, too."

At the mention of her mother, Cedar steeled her heart and took a deep breath. She brushed past her father and entered. Weapons of every make and model lined the thick steel walls of the workshop. Pistols, rifles, grenades, and far worse things of tortured metal that she could not put a name to. These were the items that her father's visitors took away wrapped in concealing cloth or packed into crates. For years now she'd watched the people come and go, and now she finally knew what they paid Daddy for. "This is my work," her father echoed, putting a hand on her shoulder. He looked on the tools of war with reverence, as if they were his gods and he their creation. "Are you afraid?" "No." Cedar could not tear her gaze away. "What are they for, daddy? Hunting?" "No. They're for justice. A dream that your mother and I shared. Do you know what justice is?" "It's, uh, doing what's right." She glanced away, reaching back into her memory to retrieve a recent reading. "Integrity in the dealings of men with each other. Rectitude. Equity. Uprightness."

He laughed a little, and Cedar started at the sudden vibration against her side. "I must be boring you to death out here, if you're reading dictionaries now. But those are just words." Her father turned her around to face him, his expression turning as serious as death. "But do you understand what justice is? Would you know it if you saw it? Would you recognize its absence?" "I don't know. Maybe." "Almost ninety years ago, some folk got together and signed some papers. The Treaty of Narion." He said the words like they were a curse, and Cedar recognized hatred in her father for the first time. "This treaty said people like us had to stay within three little star systems. They gave us permission to live inside those lines they drew on a map. Vesta is outside those lines. Have you ever thought about that?"

She shook her head, in full honesty. Her father wasn't saying anything she didn't already know, but she'd never put these facts together into anything meaningful. "Our existence here is a crime. Does that sound like justice to you, Cedar? You were the first person ever born on Vesta, but the United Colonies doesn't think you're a human being. You're just a treaty violation. Is that just?" "No," she answered, a little spark of anger rising in her breast. "I don't understand. Why don't they just leave us alone?" "Because they hate us." He stood and looked towards his work again. "They hate us, honey, and they'd be happy to see Vesta scorched down to bedrock."

Cedar, looking now too, saw the weapons now in a new light: they were the shields protecting them from destruction, from the wicked people in the United Colonies. Her father continued. "You're going to hear whispers, sooner or later, that I make these terrible guns just for the profit of it. You're going to have to close your ears to those lies. I give away as much as I sell, to desperate folk in need of protection. We don't have any soldiers to guard us out here. You understand?" "Yes." "Your mother and I always knew a war would be coming. She was my partner in that good fight. We never planned to have a child. We never planned…" He cleared his throat, and his grip on her shoulder tightened. "Well. These are the cards fate dealt us. I kept all this from you as long as I could. To preserve your innocence, your happiness. But it's time to wake up, now. The UC is hot for war; they want to dig up your poor mother's bones and call it a crime that they were ever buried here. These weapons are all that's keeping us from that awful future. These weapons, in the hands of deserving folk."

She nodded slowly, looked up at her father, and said those fateful words she would always remember with a touch of bitterness. "Can I help?"

[therealgchu]

bad-ass cait, GOOOOOO!

WIP Wednesday

@bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour, @artemis-crimson, and @constellation2330

from the upcoming chapter of stars through my fingers like grains of sand

Sam followed Cait back out the door. Behind him, he heard a hoarse, pained whisper, “Was that an angel?”

Over his shoulder, he replied, “Yeah. Mine.” He took a couple quick steps to catch up with her. She was waiting by the door to the stairs; the bright gleam of metal against red paint was mute testament to the Spacers’ attempts to break through.

On the way up, Cait murmured, “An angel? Really?”

Keep reading

[lirotation]

ppl you'd like to know better tag!

Tagged by @memoiandy thanks! Mine is quite boring though.

Three ships:

I am into Spock/Dr.McCoy from the very first star trek TOS. I just can't get over them <3

Anders/Female Amell from dragon age. I reject any other CP from that universe.

Javik/Liara from Mass effect 3

I'm not usually a shipper because it's rare for me to develop an affection for more than one character in a single fandom. Most of the time, my heart is captured by a solitary character, and I find myself yearning to pair them with my oc.

Last film:

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. The art is amazing. I can't even.

Currently watching:

Star Trek: Lower Decks. Yeah, it's weird I am such a Star Trek fan yet I did almost no fanart in that fandom.

Currently reading:

urge I am reading Framed Ink by Marcos Mateu-Mestre and Figure Drawing by Andrew Loomis right now. I wish I have time for fanfictions.

Currently consuming:

Starfield. It's such a chill game. I play like 30min a week. I've once again fallen head over heels for a character who, unfortunately, isn't romanceable.

Currently craving:

Get all those Astarion stuff in my WIP folder done =( I am under his spell for almost 2 years now. I need to get as much progress as I can before I lose the passion.

Tagging @sillyliterature @tavdraws @alenkosx and anyone who is interested!

[silurisanguine]

🍄🌵🍓🛼 for the asks please ^_^

Thankyou @vorchagirl for these asks!!!! Share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings. -

Sam Coe and Seren Jones - Sam often wakes up in the middle of the night at the slightest noise, a habit picked up after years of being a single dad. But now instead of falling asleep straight away, he watches Seren sleep, amazed he has someone as incredible as her in his life.

Share the link to a playlist you love. -

This is for the above ship, from my story Chasing your star until i find home.

How did you get into writing fanfiction? -

I think both times it was wanting to tell a story I'd not yet read. Using headcanons that I felt fit the lore and expanded on canon.

Describe your latest wip with five emojis -

I'll go with the one I have open right now

🤠☠️🫦🚀🌟

[fangbangerghoul]

WIP Folder Ask Game

I was tagged by @roguishcat

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous and tag as many people as you have WIPs. People send an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then you post a snippet or tell them something about it!

This game is a little wild ngl. Especially for writers who have a lot of WIPS lol

I''m going to start off by admitting that I am not as organized as to have ONE folder solely for WIPs lol

Normally I have my wips separated by fandom and whatever wip goes under that fandom I will throw in there.

Starfield WIPS

Godless Realm

Free at last

Cup Runneth Over

one offs

Baldur's Gate 3 WIPS

great fireballs of faerun

bog witch trials

My Time at Sandrock WIPS

Over Exposure

Stalker Pen

Dragon's Dogma 2 WIPS

dd2 snip

Voracious Oblivion

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Elgara Vallas: This City is a Graveyard

Elgara Vallas: Out of Time

Cyberpunk 2077

Fuck you, Pay me/I didn't steal your fucking bike

These were all the ones I could find on my computer. There are a ton in my notes app on my phone as well but I am not going through that as well lmfao. 13 is enough.

Tagging with no pressure:

@bearlytolerant @ronqueesha @crystal-overdrive @therealgchu @atonalginger @staticpallour @lisa-and-shadow @ellstersmash @eridanidreams @lyriumrain @lucaanis @awardenandacrow @blightedcrow

[fangbangerghoul]

It's so visually descriptive 😭 I felt like I was carried far far away!

WIP Wednesday!

@fangbangerghoul @spookyspecterino @bearlytolerant

Following in the footsteps of some incredibly talented people ^^

This is part of Chapter 2 from my OC fic, Into The Unknown. I'm finding out the environment of Starfield is incredibly fun to write, next to Heller's sass.

In acquiesce, she lowered the helmet onto her head, her face growing flushed as she fiddled with the object. Lin turned and without thought dashed over to fix Stella’s helmet, saving her from … from what? Death? As she checked over the spots Stella had missed, Lin asked, “Have you ever worn a helmet before?”

“No.” 

Lin finished and paused, looking into Stella’s fish-bowl of a helmet with a cocked head and furrowed brows, but she remained silent. Heller inputted a code on a keypad connected to the door, but Stella wasn’t sure he heard them. If he did, he was damn good at pretending not to notice the sudden delicate elephant in the room 

Lin backed away as the bunker door screeched then slid smoothly open. Goosebumps slithered down the back of Stella’s neck. Her shoulders dropped as she moved slowly, her steps lighter despite the chunky boots. She swallowed, her gaze unabashed. 

It was unlike anything she’d ever witnessed before — a sky entirely diffused in a film of toxic sage. Ghostly peaks towered across the horizon. Fog wrapped around enormous equipment and cybernetic machines. More people in spacesuits loitered the grounds. It was terrifyingly impressive how well everything fit together, well, everything except her. 

Stella cleared her throat, stupefied as they started down the steps. “Where exactly am I?” She pressed, urgency cloaking her voice.

Heller glanced at Lin. The woman’s strut continued forth. His voice carried over his shoulder.

“Vectera.”

Odd. “What state?”

“State?” He chuckled. “If by state you mean system, then that would be the Narion system.” 

[aro-pancake-writes]

WIP Wednesday! \o/

And I finally have something to post! Bonus, my new OC!

He's my baby boy, Hector. Yes, like the prince of Troy, because I still have Epic playing on loop in my head.

Anywho, enjoy me breaking my character like a glow stick!

Night was falling as Hector noticed the storm approaching. The Frontier too far to reach right now, so he opened his scanner to look for shelter. And luck was on his side today.

“Got something?” Sam asks, making him startle.

“Yeah. A cave, not far from here.” He says, making his way there. A short comm to warn the Frontier that they found shelter and would wait out the storm, and they're inside.

It's as cold as outside, but at least they're protected from the wind here.

Hector pulls out the sleeping bag and heater from his bag, setting up a makeshift camp.

“Hey, can I bend your ear for a moment?” Sam says, making Hector look up curious and hopeful.

“Sure.” He says, bringing his hands closer to the heater.

“There's something I gotta tell you, about my past.” Hector's hope deflates. “I… uhm… had a really dark spot in my youth.”

“I know.” Hector finally says something. When will they be this alone again?

“No, I mean, it's not like ‘we all did things we regret’ issue. It's-” Sam tries to articulate and explain himself. The new member of Constellation being a riddle wrapped in a mystery to him. “My father set me up with a job and-”

“I know, Sam.” Hector tries again, this time stronger. “I was there. I was born in Neon. Spent most of my life there.”

“But I'm not-” Hector gets up, pacing around the cave.

“You don't remember me, do you?” He says, squaring up to Sam. Upon seeing the confusion in the blue eyes, he chuckles. “Of course not. How could you?”

“What do you mean, Hector?” Sam looks back at Hector's red eyes, a proof of his time on Mars, hoping to find anything. Only to find heartbreak and tears.

“I was nineteen years old back then. Black hair, no tattoos, no beard, and my eyes were green.” He pulls the emerald Sam gave him the other day from his pocket. “You showed me how to enjoy my life, what it felt like to be loved and cared for. And what true heartbreak feels like.”

Sam scours his mind, the deep dark corners of his memory, only to find a spot of light. It was warm, and safe.

“How could I have broken your heart?” He asks, watching as the bigger man falls to the ground in a boneless heap.

“You promised me you'd take me away from that place. That I'd never have to go back unless I wanted to.” His once booming voice now a barely audible whisper. “You said you just had to finish that trip, and then you'd come back to get me, that you'd show me the stars. And I was foolish enough to believe you'd keep that promise, to actually wait, and hope that you'd come back for me.” Hector cleans up his tears on the sleeve of his coat, trying to find anything to distract himself. It's been fifteen years. It shouldn't hurt like this anymore, but it did.

Sam can't bring himself to say anything. Hector had seemed almost unbreakable when they first met. An unyielding tank, strong enough to protect those he cared for. And to now see such man so small and crying on the floor of a random cave…

Sam wanted to run. To find somewhere empty enough he could scream at his younger self.

He made a promise, one that he couldn't keep. There's a small voice on the back of his head, one that he knows too well: Lillian.

You don't need anyone else right now, she said, I'm right here with you, Sam. You don't need to go back to Neon. There's nothing left for you there.

The memory, being in stupor of going cold turkey, the feverish dreams, the tight hand on his…

Only to be replaced by laughs shared in bed, the neon lights coming in from the window of the room, a heavy warm body pressed against his as they rest. There's movement, and he's faced with emerald green eyes and black hair. On his lips, a genuine smile, followed by the scars on his cheeks.

It couldn't be Hector. He's… different. Broken. With turquoise hair and red eyes. And he doesn't have the forced smile scars.

Hector feels a warm hand place a blanket over his shoulders, and dares to look up to find Sam sitting down next to him.

“I didn't want to remember that time.” He finally said, removing his hat. “But there's one other thing I got to know.”

Hector cleans up his final tears. He knows what's coming. The one thing he clearly had as his own defining feature back then.

“I have a beard to hide the scars.” He mumbles, bringing his face closer to the light so he could show Sam the still present smile on his cheeks, before forcefully getting up. “Look, Sam, it's been a long time, ok? I don't want to force you into anything you're uncomfortable with. I don't even know why I'm still broken about this.”

“Hector, I'm-” Sam stutters. Maybe looking to apologize or make up excuses, but he can't go on.

“It's late, and I'm tired. Can we please just go to sleep for now?” Before waiting for an answer, Hector toes off his boots, removes his coat, and lays down on his sleeping bag.

Sam watches him attentively. The way the shirt latched on to Hector's skin, showcasing his strength and power, made Sam's stomach fall.

He wanted to be caught in those arms, yes, but at the same time, he could have had it for years now, if only he kept his promise.

Following in on Hector's example, Sam also goes to bed, finding himself unable to sleep properly. His dreams are haunted with emerald green turning to bright red.

Sam wakes up, guilt eating him up inside as the cold settles on his bones. The light of the heater gone almost out in their sleep.

Across from him, he can hear a sniffle.

“You ok?” Sam asks, hoping to get Hector to turn.

“Peachy.” Hector hisses, curling up in himself. “Just cold.”

Not really thinking, Sam gets up, moving to Hector's sleeping bag.

“Let me in with you.” He says, and Hector finally turns to him. “We can keep eachother warm, ok? Now move, I'm freezing my ass out here.”

Processing, Hector tries to occupy as little room as possible, watching as Sam dexterously enters the sleeping bag with him.

He never thought they'd be this close again, sharing the same air as Sam curls himself against his chest. Unsure, Hector wraps his arms around Sam's waist, pulling him closer.

“How long did you wait?” Sam finally asks.

“Three years, four months and seventeen days.” Hector says, eyes lost in the emptiness behind Sam. “Not like I was counting, you know.” He shrugs it off, like he wasn't a mess about it minutes ago. “But I got out on a contract to mine on Mars. Apparently, my size made me a good choice.” And that explains the red eyes.

“I'm sorry I don't remember you.” Sam whispers, enjoying the oddly familiar warmth and comfort.

“I shouldn't expect you to.” Hector's grip on Sam loosens. “It's been too long. You got married and had a kid since. Not like a fling while high would be of importance to you in the long scheme.”

“It wasn't just a fling, thought. Was it?” Sam pokes the bear, leaning closer and almost brushing his lips to Hector's. “You wouldn't react like that if it was.”

“I was a kid, Sam.” Hector tries to pull away, but is caught in the edge of the sleeping bag, tapping him in place. “Anything is way bigger in a kids head.”

“I'm only a year older than you.” Sam clocks an eyebrow, getting closer to Hector. “And a fling wouldn't hurt so much this long after it.”

Trapped, he does the only thing he can. Use of his size and strength to turn the tables.

“Maybe,” he says, taking Sam's wrist in his hand, “it was the broken promise that hurt.” Hector turns, pinning Sam under him with his weight. “Or the fact that when you didn't come back for me, I spent all my free time waiting for you, wondering if you had said it as pillow talk or I wasn't worth the effort. Can you imagine what it felt like, Sam? To believe you're stuck in your personal hell because you're not good enough to be saved?”

“Yes. I know.” Sam finally spits back, fighting against the hands restraining him. “That's why I allowed myself to fall in Neon. And then I was proven wrong! That's why I never went back!”

That's enough for Hector, feeling as all he had left of his heart breaking. He lets go of Sam's arms, turning his back to the man next to him.

“Good to know it's just me.” He says, cutting off the subject.

He can hear Sam mumbling, before wrapping his hands on Hector's waist.

“I wish I remembered you back then.” He hears, feeling the light caress where his shirt escapes his pants. “I wish I wasn't so high that I could forget about you. But there's nothing we can do about the past, so maybe, we can try the future?”

[therealgchu]

WIP Wednesday

it's been FOREVER, I KNOW!! i've had terrible writer's block and just couldn't get past this one spot. so, i took some time off any writing. didn't even bother to try.

it seemed to have worked, too, cos i gots stuff! this idea came to me last nite as i'm trying to sleep, cos of course that's when ideas hit you. just started this today.

i have realized that i just like writing fluffy, domestic pieces. not sure if i'll fold this into the main fic, or whether it'll be stand-alone.

hey, check out all of To the Shore on ao3.

Christmas on Ternion

“How would you feel about celebrating Christmas here on Ternion instead of going back to Akila?” he asked. 

She shrugged nonchalantly, “Sure. Whatever,” She went to rinse her wash rag in the sink, “I mean, I’m still going to get presents, right?” she asked, turning around, grinning slightly.

“Yes, Little Miss, you’ll still be getting presents,” he answered, chuckling.

She shrugged again, this time smiling, “We can have Christmas anywhere, so long as I get presents!”

“That’s what I kinda figured, but I thought I’d run it by you first.”

This time Cora laughed, “You know me so well, Dad. What does Umma say about it?”

He narrowed his eyes, “You know, I hadn’t even thought about it. I don’t know if she even celebrates Christmas.”

“Dad, everyone celebrates Christmas cos everyone likes getting gifts.”

Sam sighed, “It’s not that simple,” he said, then pulled out a chair and sat down. He motioned for her to take a seat next to him.

She sat down and crossed her arms, “Sometimes I think you make things more difficult than they need to be,” she said.

“Hmph,” he grunted in response, also crossing his arms, unconsciously mirroring his daughter’s expression, “Since when did you get so wise, smart-ass?”

His daughter smiled smugly, “Got it from Gramps,” she retorted.

He chuckled ruefully, “I deserved that, didn’t I?” he asked. She nodded, her smile softening.

[atonalginger]

WIP Wednesday

oh hai, I have a general tag for those who wish it and a snippet from the growing tale of Cora's adventure (this story needs a title...it's like 75k+ and still doesn't have a title....) No pressure with the tag, I know so many are in that final push before the big holidays and I do not want to add to that.

In another snippet from a while back I shared some of Becker's subplot in this story. They're out there because their mother did something terrible and they are determined to exact vengeance. They call it justice in their head but the line between the two is very thin.

This snippet isn't so much about that but touching on connections to other characters. Well one character...and there will be art at the end too!

Anyway, the snippet:

Zoya was uninterested with the kids, as were most of the Zealot leadership preparing to rush the city and seize control. Despite all the talk of Cora’s brilliance and help with the Mourning Device and other research none of them saw her as a threat. She was seen as a bug buzzing about, easily squashable when the time was right. Not worth the effort to attack outright.

They knew they would have to act soon if they wanted to take Zoya out. She was in active contact with Khaslav up in the northern outskirts. Someone Becker had hoped was too busy being a bloodthirsty prick elsewhere in the starfield. Or dead. Dead would have been preferable. She wanted to meet up in the coming days to finalize a plan of attack on the spaceport. He just had some personal business to attend to first, something to do with stubborn Orahim.

Had he come to his senses finally? Did he see what Becker had tried to get him to see so many years ago? They tried not to get their hopes up too much; they remembered how vicious Orahim became. How loyal he was to that maniac. But they also remembered how thoughtful he could be when away from that crew. How gentle and thoughtful he could be when it counted. He could also be quite the ally if he’d turned his back on the Zealots. Could returning to their Va’ruun’kai do that?

They didn’t dare get their hopes up, even as old memories had begun to haunt their sleep. Those steel blue eyes and the tiny curl of his lip when he allowed himself to grin. They wondered if any of that survived the long years at Khaslav’s side. A question that had to wait; dealing with Zoya and finding Cora and Manny took precedence.

But Becker needed to figure out how to deal with the Redeemed before they went after their mother. She kept one close by and the others were fast enough that Becker would be screwed if they got caught. Part of them wanted to take the easiest route and just poison the woman’s food but it felt too easy, too much of a cop-out, and too likely to be caught by the others. No, they needed to be ready to fight not only her but the whole base. Which wasn’t impossible. It was pushing it but for Pa? For Pa it would be worth it.