．．．𝑙𝑒𝑡’𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑦

⸻ 𝐻𝐴𝐼𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐹𝑅𝐸𝑄𝑈𝐸𝑁𝐶𝐼𝐸𝑆 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑁.

AOS NYOTA UHURA .

𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍 / 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 / 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 / 𝟤𝟣+

If you use an AI program to write your replies why the fuck are you even in the PRC?

I need everyone to understand about the fremen.

They do not cry. Ever.

To give water to the dead is the most sacred honor that anyone could give but they rarely and never do that because it's ingrained in them to not waste water from birth. A single tear could mean life and death for them. To give water to the living? Unheard of.

Paul crying over killing Jamis in the book was a moment that astonished the fremen around him. Jessica ponders their reactions and knows that this is a holy moment.

Jessica then forcing Chani to cry for Paul(this was not in the book btw but I love it) is the ultimate betrayal of her autonomy. To force her to give what is essentially a piece of her life to him without her consent is sacrilegious and she knows it.

Water of Life indeed.

D I S C O V E R. THIS WAS A WORD WHICH INCITED from her fathomless ambition; Nyota Uhura had always wanted to be an explorer for the sake of brilliant and beautiful – discovery. And yet there are things that perhaps needn’t be discovered or explored; but should serve as caution to the rest. The consequence of going too far; to toe along the edges of where lingers the apotheosis of fear. The eldritch things that live in the dark parts between the stars – were such nightmares meant to be found? How far can malevolence be explored? And to what end? Nyota drew herself closer, chasing the warmth from him, again finding comfort in that familiar darkness, face pressed into the crook of his neck; clinging far tighter than what would be her conventional grip into his skin. In hushed, slow inhales and exhales she sidestepped Spock’s sentiment about discovery as the idea felt strange and tight in her chest, a concept that did not belong. Instead she followed the invisible equations he drew into her body, a great many she could not guess their beginnings, middles or ends, but she did catch patterns, numbers and the occasional order of operation; it was the secret she kept with his hands, had yet to ever say aloud her hypothesis to what he left etched into her skin. Briefly smiling into his neck, Nyota drew her leg high, sliding slowly through the middle of his – smooth skin against soft, black hair.

It was a feeling she wanted to chase.

But fear is insidious.

It bleeds.

Her hand, that was soft snaking a delicate line up his neck to the tip of his ear and back down again, finally stopped to rest against his chest, smoothing the hair idly with her fingers.

Fear bleeds – bleeding into the familiar darkness she found in the comfort of Spock. The dark of a vacant rip in the cosmos, a singularity of darkness - unquantifiable fear.

“Spock–” his name trembled in her mouth, “ . . . do you think fear is tangible? If it’s observable and quantifiable - couldn’t it be tangible? A sentient thing?”

The question itself sounded like nonsense, she knew it to be true, but there was a context that she couldn’t explain. It was how she knew fear was tangible; it was a cold hand that held sense at the back of her esophagus and reached down and polluted the air in her lungs with which to speak it.

Maybe Spock might draw an equation of numbers with which to unlock the words trapped in her throat.

@fasciinating

“ 𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑫𝑶 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫 ? ”

AN ANSWER FAILED HER or at least one that seemed like it would produce any sensical clarity to either of them. The question held an answer so large Nyota wasn’t sure how to respond for several long minutes. In that time, the dark from the room mirrored the darkness that lingered at the edges of her thoughts, a puzzle to carry with her from birth, to this moment, to seemingly the rest of her days.

Uhura did this from on occasion; in these private, silent, intimate spaces she held with him where her mind wandered to the end of the galaxy, gently pulling his hand along behind her, only to stop right at the edge where infinite darkness began.

Back inside of Spock’s quarters, in a far more familiar darkness; that darkness that held no pretense, just as the man of whom she laid her body against. The resolute and unrelenting heat from all of her radiated deep into his skin as Nyota made a brief ascent upward where her head came to rest under the point of his chin.

When the words finally came to her, they came packaged inside of a query; “Spock – what do you think is out there . . . beyond the galactic wall?”

This had not the first instance in which Nyota came to her mate with this question; and very nearly each time the way in which it is asked, the hour of day and circumstance - all different. Going so far to appear as though a non-sequitur - as it did now. Though there was hardly anything random in this question, a question she thought on almost every day of her life from youth.

Not untoward for scientists and explorers, to pose such quandaries and wonder grand and mysterious things; it was that her tone never implied Uhura was asking for the purposes of science or exploration.

It was a secret thing she asked him — with no expectation of a specific answer, leaving it to be little more than a rhetorical question, but far from direct or specific.

@fasciinating

well hey hey, explorers ! so listen, i fell down a rabbit hole of hyper fixation and colors this morning trying to make some graphics for this blog, and i think some of the stuff turned out really fun, i just have ZERO use for any of them. so if anyone wants these for whatever reason, please have at them. you don’t need to credit me, thank me, you don’t have to interact with this post at all. either this can be a fun little holiday surprise in someone’s day or i’m just out here showing off my trash — either way, help yourselves!

i have a couple other graphics and stuff i’ll be unloading that will also be free to a good blog for anyone who needs them!

… and if you got down here and were like “damn bitch — are you colorblind?” lmfaooo, no, but some of these friggin things would absolutely lead an mf to believe otherwise 😂

⸻ 𝐻𝐴𝐼𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐹𝑅𝐸𝑄𝑈𝐸𝑁𝐶𝐼𝐸𝑆 𝑂𝑃𝐸𝑁.

𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 ／ 𝘰𝘤 ＆ 𝘥𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘺 ／ 𝘢𝘶 ＆ 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 ／ 21+

Not fucking @tangleweave coming at me full force with my love, my light - goddamn Doctor Julian Bashir. CHEF’S KISS 🤌 ♥️🩵♥️🩵

Were you expecting resistance? 🤣

“ Conversation ran short. ” [Sardaukar Marc]

UHURA LOOKED DOWN AT THE DEAD ROMULAN at Marc’s feet, clearly unprepared for the lone Sardaukar he would cross blades with this far out in the northern desert; Romulans proving better equipped to survive further in the desert than most who aren’t Fremen. With swift hands she immediately began stripping the body of anything valuable, upwards to collecting his water; water from Romulans being far more useful and consumable then the chemical-ridden water of the Harkonnens. While at her task, Uhura pried out loud at Marc the reason a singular Romulan was this far in the desert, clearly meant to survive out here for at least a week given the presence of that many rations and a frem-kit. But she was met with a very concise and unsatisfying reply– “ Conversation ran short. ” She certainly didn’t buy into the fact he attempted to extract any intelligence from his kill. Uhura was Fedaykin and few others understood the art and necessity behind combat as they did, but given the nature of the fight being for their very freedom and autonomy to live on their own world untrammeled by outworlders; they also deeply understood the necessity of subterfuge and interrogation. Setting aside a para-compass, the frem-kit, rations, various other small tools and devices, she spoke without looking up from the black, rubber pouch she filled with the body’s water of Marc’s dead Romulan, “ — you would think a Sardaukar would be interested to know why his enemy is so far from their normal patterns. Though I never thought Sardaukar did much thinking, so can I really say I’m surprised? ” The vitriol in her tone apotheosized at the very end of her statement, where she cut herself short, abruptly so. She didn’t like him. Very nearly the whole Sietch had shared this sentiment – until prophecy was spoken. Lines of holy script, but really just venomous propaganda spewed for centuries by Bene Gesserit missionaries. Uhura loved Layla – and yet no one in the Sietch could rile her to anger as quickly as Layla. The antecedent cause to that anger was always rooted in prophetic and religious beliefs that Uhura could simply not subscribe to; particularly in the exacting way with which Layla tended to believe in these Holy Signs. Holy Signs where Uhura only saw lies meant to enslave the faith and beliefs of her people, while Romulans and Harkonnens saw to enslave them in a more literal sense. Marc had fit the lines of prophecy; things about the foe becoming the friend, a man of three. Lines that didn’t even register as sensical to her nor did she care to have them explained by Layla inside of her religious fervor or Spock inside of his logical litanies. So it was decided to reform the Sardaukar rather than to take his water and give his body to the desert. Uhura didn’t understand it, and there was a large part of her that didn’t want to, not when she was there squatting on the ground watching the blood drip off his blade and wondering how much blood from her people ran down the same metal edge. Admittedly the only ones who really spoke to him in the Sietch, beyond functional discourse, were Spock and Layla. When the last of the water was drained, she threw the packs over her shoulders, and looking at his sword and back at Marc, she spat “ – feel better, Sardaukar? ”

@silverjetsystm

𝙃𝙚𝙮 , 𝙀𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙧𝙨 !

𝖨’𝗆 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒，𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 food 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝗈w, 𝖨’𝗆 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗒 𝖨 𝗈𝗐𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 ．．．

𝑨 𝑫 𝑽 𝑬 𝑵 𝑻 𝑼 𝑹 𝑬 𝑻 𝑰 𝑴 𝑬 !

If you’re just seeing this or recently just started following me HERE is the post for the adventure call. Were you feeling like maybe 𝑄 needs to put your muse to the ultimate test or that it’s about time your muse had some trouble with goddamn tribbles? Go ahead and like that post and I can either throw you a random adventure or you’re more than welcome to jump right into my DMs to plot something totally different!

I’m going to do my very best to write the starters in the order the adventure call was liked, and hopefully can get two or so out tonight and trickle the rest out over this coming week. If you feel like you’ve been waiting a long time and aren’t sure if I remembered you or not - please don’t be shy! Hop in my DMs and drop me a line!

— until then . . .

. . . stay curious, explorers !

STAR WARS: REBEL RISING PROMPTS *  assorted lines from the book by beth revis, adjust as necessary ** credit to the amazing vicioushope for providing the content :)

where am i going to run?

welcome to the worst days of your life. 

no one else is here. 

can you teach me how to fight like that?

i’m teaching you everything i can. 

if you’re going to shoot, you always shoot to kill. 

what other information can you give me?

forging takes work and patience. 

i won’t say anything. i just want to listen. 

i want the truth. 

just because you don’t want to hear a truth doesn’t make it less true. 

i’m just here to talk.

i don’t know what you expect of me. 

i’ve heard the rumors. 

i didn’t want to believe it was true. 

i do what needs to be done. 

the resistance needs a martyr. 

don’t give them another thought. 

one fighter with a sharp stick and nothing left to lose can take the day. 

i already knew you were strong enough. 

don’t come any closer.

it’s always rough when it’s your first kill. 

you can’t protect me. 

at least i taught you to protect yourself. 

you constantly amaze me. 

must run in your blood. 

you clean up well.

silence isn’t the same as peace. 

what do you think war is? 

how did you track down the traitor? 

i thought i was going to die. 

that’s not a very high standard. 

i know you like to be in charge. 

i’m coming with you. 

you’re not leaving me behind, are you?

you’re coming back for me, right?

what really makes people work harder is fear. 

can you fly this thing? 

i can fly anything.

i never thought it would be like this. 

it’s over. whatever happened, best not to bring it up again. 

it’s over. you’re safe here. i promise. 

i have seen so much blood. 

i remember the face of everyone who’s died because of me. 

why are you following me?

could i make a difference?

that’s what i’m afraid of. 

it never ends.

how much to fix this?

for what price?

i don’t see how i can help you. 

you do a job and you’re done. 

don’t start a fight you can’t win. 

am i being arrested?

i just want to sleep. 

you could do so much more.