𝙱𝙴𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙾𝙻𝙴𝙽𝚃 -

WHAT A [...] DELIGHTFUL TRAGEDY!

[amidla]

#𝙰𝙼𝙸𝙳𝙻𝙰.     private,  low  activity,  independent  roleplaying  blog  for  padmé  amidala  naberrie  from  the  star  wars  franchise.  canon  divergent,  headcanon  and  legends  based,  takes  inspiration  from  various  other  written  works  such  as  shakespeare’s  hamlet  and  poetry.  as  written  by  tammy!  21,  gmt,  she/her.  do  not  follow  if  you’re  under  18.

google  docs,   including  rules,  bio  &  mains.

[amidla]

hi again

[amidla]

hey 

[amidla]

i’m still here kinda. just busy with uni. i’ll see u all soon. anyway free Palestine and rb every single post on ur dash it takes literally 5 seconds

[miseryunplugged]

hi all, palestine’s going through a mass genocide right now and really needs help, here are a few ways you can do that

palestine children’s relief fund: provide urgent humanitarian care for children in gaza

anera: provide on-the-ground emergency relief

medical aid for palestinians: emergency relief for women and children, psychosocial support, disability help, other medical needs

doctors without borders: medical teams on the ground treating injured palestinians as needed

feel free to add on in the notes, notify me if any of the fundraisers listed arent necessary/actually helpful to donate to, and let me know if anything needs added on/modified

as always, if you cant donate then please share and spread awareness

UPDATE: this post has been edited to remove an organization by the UN (details in notes by @petite-elf @forensicfilez )

[aldereign]

aldereign​:

eid mubarak to my fellow muslims 💖 during this eid, im asking my mutuals to donate here to the Palestinian Children Relief Fund. (click directly donate now).  many Palestinians have asked that we donate directly to them, so here’s a link to further fundraisers . [ EDIT: threads are continuously being deleted by social media, please make sure to check for donations verified by Palestinians! ] if you can send me a receipt of your donation my friends and i are going to try and match each donation. if you can’t donate money — here are some video links ( x and x ) where you can watch videos that will donate to Palestine, please don’t skip the video or use ad blockers.  keep talking about palestine. thank you in advance and may Allah swt protect the people of Palestine 💖

edit: here’s a link by layilil with a bunch of palestinians who have not met their fundraising goals 

[amidla]

YOUR HEADER HAS SO MANY FEELS

ah!!  thank  you!!  it’s  one  of  my  favourite  panels  by  far  and  i  thought  it  went  well  with  my  description,  so  if  it  gave  you  feels  then  i  did  something  right  :,)  ily  sm  i  hope  you’re  okay!

[amidla]

❝    thank  you  but  i’ll  be  fine,  dr.  ziegler,    ❞    she  knew  it  was  everything  but  fine:  a  blaster  had  caught  her  between  the  shoulder,  had  it  been  a  few  inches  this  or  that  way,  her  life  surely  would  have  been  taken  but  with  a  firm  tone  and  a  smile  that  could  power  the  cosmos,  she  continues.    ❝    it’s  nothing  more  than  a  scratch,  i  can  assure  you.    ❞

@invctus​, for markus.

[amidla]

ofnegotiatcr​,

        “ i miss moments like this more than anything. ”

❝    then  perhaps  allowing  yourself  to  have  more  breaks  may  do  you  some  good,  obi  -  wan,  and  i  don’t  mean  just  meditating    ———    tea?    ❞  

[amidla]

dcdpool​,

❝ FROM  MY  MOUTH . ❞  he  replied ,  hands  on  his  chips ,  chin  raised .  HE  WASN’T  STUPID ,  RIGHT ?  ‘  sometimes . ‘  a  shake  of  his  head .  ❝ am  I  wrong ? ❞

❝    well,  sir,    ❞    there’s  an  awkward  pause  between  the  two.  on  her  list  of  things  to  deal  with  today,  this  certainly  was  not  one  of  them  and  yet,  a  tiny  part  of  her  was  amused.  how  the  other  came  to  such  conclusions  was  beyond  her  and  she  was  eager  to  find  out.    ❝    i’m  curious  to  know  as  to  what  …  piqued  this  interest  of  yours    —-    given  that  i  am  not  married.    ❞  

[amidla]

❝    mr.  rogers,  it’s  a  pleasure  to  finally  meet  you.  please,  take  a  seat    —    ❞    a  smile  accompanies  her  greeting  as  palms  flatten  the  front  of  her  dress  before  she  sits  at  her  desk,  her  form  basking  in  the  afternoon’s  sunlight  as  she  spoke.    ❝    i  wanted  to  take  a  moment  to  talk  to  you  about  damage  control,  specifically  regarding  the  incident  that  occurred  on  may  4th  2012  which,  i  presume  by  reading  your  file,  you  helped  to  command  alongside  director  fury,  did  you  not?    ❞  

@amerishield​.

[amidla]

saintorgana​,

“      i   think   that   i   should   forward   you   the   information   we   have      –      everything   that   we’ve   been   working   on.      perhaps   split   it   between   you   and   mon   so   that   they   can’t   get   a   hold   of   all   of   it   at   once  ,    should   one   of   you   come   under   observation.      ”       there   are   a   thousand   things   he   wants   to   say   to   her  ,    and   not   enough   time   to   get   through   them.       “      and   i      –      in   the   event   that   something   happens  ,    i   want   to   thank   you  ,    padme  ,    for   everything.      ”

with  the  delivery  of  his  words,  there  is  an  ache  in  her  chest  she  cannot  describe,  it  was  something  more  than  heartbreak  but  not  quite  death:  a  nestling  that  is  clinging  onto  her  ribcage  because  it  isn’t  sure  if  it  wants  to  grieve  or  morph  into  a  forbidding  anger.  right  now  it  sat  awkwardly  at  denial,  as  it  does  when  one  is  presented  with  news  they  didn’t  want  to  face  and  more  so  when  it  came  from  family.    ❝    you  don’t  need  to  thank  me,  bail.  there’s  a  lot  that  wouldn’t  have  happened  if  it  were  not  for  you  but  you  needn’t  think  of  that  for  now.  send  whatever  information  you  have,  and  we  will  come  up  with  a  plan  for  you  &  your  family.  we  are  not  giving  up.    ❞

[amidla]

›  @carasyntha​ sent:  ❛ go. run. don’t look behind you. ❜

her  breath  came  in  small  spurts,  hot  and  nervous.  at  her  side,  pale  fingers  curled  into  sweaty  fists,  but  her  feet  remained  exactly  where  they  are.  behind  her,  she  could  hear  the  baying  howls  and  jeering  laughter  of  those  who  wanted  their  heads  on  sticks;  their  moves  are  calculated,  swift,  and  mud  smears  the  helmets  of  sweaty  troopers  as  they  parroted  orders  from  left  to  right.  padmé  knows  the  other  isn’t  going  to  like  her  answer,  she  also  knows  a  lot  of  people  would  have  a  few  choice  words  for  her  should  this  be  a  path  she  chooses  to  go  down  but  against  all  odds,  she  stays  firmly  by  cara’s  side  with  only  a  blaster  in  hand,  her  hair  matted  from  the  running  they  had  done  previously.    ❝    i’m  not  leaving  you  behind    ——    ❞  

❝    ——    not  this  time.    ❞  

deathless:  not accepting.

[luthienne]

“a sharp-edged presence, restless, charged with some half-concealed wistful desire—”

— Denise Levertov, from Life in the Forest; “Part III—April”

[amidla]

dcdpool​,

❝ YEAH ,  YOUR  HUSBAND  IS  HOT …  but  I  still  wouldn’t  ignore  all  the  RED  FLAGS  he  basically  radiates  whenever  you  two  inteact . ❞ 

there’s  a  pause  that  lingers  somewhere  between  baffling  &  awkward,  and  padmé  wasn’t  sure  which  one  she  felt  more.    ❝    i’m  sorry,  my  husband?  where  is  this  coming  from?    ❞  

[amidla]

iswound​,

❝peace    ——  i’m  tired  of  pulling  your  teeth,  senator.  ❞ when  her  ghost  lies  with  your  concussed  demons  awake,  dull  eyed  and   ravenous,  every  incision  her  reach  carves  and  wounds  her  tongue  soothes  becomes  a  vicious,  hungry  mouth.  

peace,  she  vindicates,  dismembering  the  tattered  loins  of  your  disjointed  rib  cage,  sinew  by  sinew,  until  all  the  intent  her  once  sun - lined  fingers  sows,  deep  into  the  seeping  mulberry  of  your  exposed  muscles,  becomes  a  surrogate  for  each  corrupt  beat  of  your  fickle,  sordid  heart. 

do  you  see  it  now,  wound?  her  knife  practices  something  cleansing,  something  holy.  dismemberment,  however,  poses  its  advantage :  god  gets  to  see  all  the  dirty  parts  as  she  slices  your  sins  lose  for  all  to  see,  until  you’re  forced  to  look  at  yourself  and  see  that  all  there  is  is  the  hope  she’s  forcing  down  your  throat.and  the  look  in  her  eyes,  like  sunlight  through  the  window,  makes  you  want  it  too but  fuck,your  father’s  doing  something  bloody  and  murderous  in  the  broken  flesh  of  your  mouth  and  he  swears  that  between  your  first  and  second  fang  that  i’ll  always  there,  girl,  always  in  you,  and  you  know  that  as  long  as  he’s  hungry  you’ll  never  be  good  enough  for  her  or  the  peace  she  promises  you’ll  choke  on.

GOD  SCREAMS  AS  YOUR  SENATOR,  LIKE  A  TREMOUR  OF  PURE  SUNLIGHT,  HOLDS YOUR  LIVER  FOR  ALL  TO  SEE:  can’t  you  see  that  you  want  it  too,  just  like  the  decayed  corpse  of  your  father’s ghost?  he  sees  what  you  see,  darling.  he  knows  what  you  know  in  ways  you  don’t know  yourself.  (you  can’t  hide  from  your  daddy’s  crowbar  hands  forever,  girl. )

❝offering  peace  alludes  to  an  indication  that  there’s  something  you  need  to  atone  for  too,  senator.❞ and  in  ways  too,  you  want  to  scream  at  her :  senator,  in  ways  neither  of  us  can  ever  understand,  we  have  come  home.  i  did  this  to  you  in  ways  you  will  never  understand.  lay  your  liver  down  at  the  altar  of  god  and  wipe  the  blood  off  her  trembling  hands.  whisper  into  her  dying  corpse  as  you  coddle  her  ghost  in  your  tired,  wilted  arms.  wound,  try  not  to  wet  her  with  the  blood  oozing  from  the  wound  on  your  jugular :  how  did  it  feel  when  you  died,  senator?  did  you  feel  me  there,  too?   ask  for  the  purifying  cross  and  your  mother’s  knife  as  you  plead  to  her  so :  senator,senator,  we  are  singing  now  while  naboo  burns.   

(  the  cold  Force  of  the  jedi  temple  succumbs  to  silence  under  the  old  sole  of  your  used,  tattered  boot.  the  Force  molds  itself,  devouring  whatever’s  left  of  your  being  as  you  venture  closer  into  it’s  old  bones.  you  wonder  if  it  feels  her,  too.  now,  you  feel  it  as  it  shifts  and  knows  what  you  did.  it  hungers  for  vengeance.  you  welcome  it  home.  )  ❝  i’ll  admit  to  mine  if  you  admit  he  was  yours. ❞

admit  it.  go  on,  padmé  naberrie,  admit  it.  these  are  the  voices  of  kingdom  come,  of  the  devils  who  dwell  in  your  heart  &  mind  first.  under  the  bludgeonings  of  chance,  her  head  is  blood  but  unbowed.  how  is  she  to  pray  when  the  shattered  remains  of  general  skywalker  still  reached  under  her  clothes  and  around  her  throat?  what  forgiveness  is  there  in  a  love  that  still  lingers  no  matter  how  much  one  tries  to  purge  it?  

a  voice  whispers  in  her  ear:  all  things  are  cleansed  with  blood,  my  dearest  padmé.  this  is  how  you  atone  for  his  sins.  do  as  she  says.  admit  it,  admit  it,  admit  it.

nausea  would  creep  up  on  her  now  if  she  were  alive.  his  actions  were  not  hers  and  yet,  because  of  their  vows  and  the  red  string  he  refused  to  cut  when  he  went  astray,  she  became  associated  with  them  by  proxy    —–    the  senator  would  always  be  remembered  as  the  reason  why  he  fell,  but  rarely  as  the  face  of  the  rebellion  that  she  so  wholeheartedly  believed  in  though  her  words  were  happily  used  as  teachings.  this  is  what  the  other  believed;  this  is  what  people’s  souls  screamed  to  padmé  in  the  dead  of  night.  

—–   as  the  silence  between  them  dawdled,  she  began  believing  them  too:  perhaps  there  was  a  chance,  a  slight  domino  effect,  that  she  could  have  stopped  this.  maybe  in  another  life  she  never  fell  in  love  with  anakin  skywalker  or  maybe  she  did,  and  discouraged  any  engagement  immediately.  perhaps  then  her  death  would  not  have  sparked  a  rise  in  an  empire  that  knew  no  mercy  but  then  her  children    ———    shiraya  give  her  strength,  please.  she  does  not  know  if  she  is  brave  enough  for  this.

it  is  the  moons  turn  to  talk  to  her  now:  your  blood  was  not  his  to  spill,  my  child.  there  is  nothing  to  confess;  you  are  safe  with  me.  come.  take  my  hand.  let  us  leave.

she  is  stuck  in  the  chorus  of  a  hymn,  unsure  as  to  whether  or  not  she  should  pray  or  beg.  

❝    my  admission  will  not  give  you  peace  but    ——–    yes,  he  was  mine.    ❞    she  edges  closer,  echoing  a  notion  of  trying  to  coax  the  other  out,  her  arms  are  waiting  for  a  hug,  the  holding  of  hands,  whatever  her  companion  needed.  she  speaks  with  an  invocation  of  ancient  naboo.  she  has  listened.    ❝    though  he  is  not  me,  and  i  am  …  so,  so  sorry.    ❞

there  it  is,  twelve,  your  apology  laced  with  atonement,  yells  shiraya  &  the  gods.  padmé  cradles  the  japor  snippet  between  her  breast:  she  is  ready  to  get  on  her  knees  and  beg,  she  has  decided,  if  it  meant  the  the  cosmos  would  give  her  the  other’s  pain  to  shoulder  for  the  next  millennia.  

[percyfraser]

Natalie Portman as Padmé Amidala Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith (2005) dir. George Lucas