#sevet

[m00nnewt9]

STAR TREK: STRANGE NEW WORLDS - OCTOBER 31, 2025 - T'PRING PHOTOS

[star-trek-fandom-confessions]

#915

Sevet and Pike('s cooking) had more chemistry than any actual relationship in the show.

[vulcanlovetriangles]

My ideas are apparently dumb sometimes but can you imagine a few of our less stuffy Vulcans trying out latin and ballroom dancing? (Not sure if Solok is less stuffy, but he's at least willing to try new things in the name of research).

Anyway, just for fun.

[authortobenamedlater]

Next time T’Pring’s parents show up Pike makes bacon. Sevet loves it.

—

T’Pril: Sevet, Vulcans do not eat meat.

Sevet: Well, we should!

[sallys-fanart]

*T’Pril cooking tevmel at home and they don’t make Sevet do that delighted little smile.*

T’Pril: If you don’t like them, perhaps you should go and eat with your husband again.

Sevet: I do not have a husband. I am married to you, my wif-

T’Pril: Captain Pike! From the way you behave around him, and the frequency with which you seek out his company, anyone would assume that you are courting.

Sevet, tilts head thoughtfully: I had not considered this. You are correct, his presence does make me feel-

T’Pril: wait no

[pixiedane]

The Amanda Fashion Project returns with Strange New Worlds "Charades" two new Earth mother looks.

Note: I am not SAG-AFTRA or WGA but I support the unions and the strike. Putting together these posts makes it very clear that everyone involved in bringing these stories to life is fully committed to it. Every demand should be met.

[pikefied]

Traditional (Sacred) Charades...

I love it how in "Sacred Charades" words also have "sacred syllables" and that "ear" is a sacred Vulcan word. So many layers of hilarity...

[ffxiv-swarm]

prompt 7: speculate

It’s been another year, and somehow Vidofnir’s Wings are still flying. For now. The refugees and adventurers—often one and the same—are no longer just Ala Mhigan, but Dalmascan and Bozjan and even those his fellow Eorzeans still call “beast tribes.” It’s taken him a while to unlearn that last one himself, but really Amal’jaa aren’t that much scarier than Au Ra. Anyway, he’s too busy to be concerned with anything beyond making sure everyone who steps through his doors can get along long enough to work together.

That doesn’t mean he’s too busy to read the newspapers, though.

All Civilians Warned To Stay Away From Mysterious Towers

Towers May Be Garlean Superweapon, Warns Our Spokesman

Dalamud Returns? Lunar Primal Sighted In La Noscea

He sets the papers down, raking a hand through hair that needs a trim. He and Busari will have to head back out there, that’s obvious enough, but he’s not sure which direction to aim in first. Without asking, he knows Busari will suggest a long swing through Thanalan and up through the Shroud into Coerthas, but even with aetherytes that’s a journey of many weeks and he can’t in good conscience leave their home team holding down the fort for that long. And yet, he’s one of their best fighters, so he equally can’t let Busari and the others go without him.

The front door slams open, the bell at the top jingling in counterpoint. “Evrard! Boss! Boss!”

Q’sevet never calls him boss. Q’sevet barely ever calls him Evrard. He’s on his feet in an instant, practically falling over himself to open the door to his study before the Seeker batters it down. Something’s wrong. There’s another primal attack—or Busari’s hurt—or Grynalet is sick—or Fury, it’s something the matter with Sevet’s family— “What is it?!”

Q’sevet’s slitted pupils are so wide they’re almost round; he’d think it was drugs, but he’s seen that same look on the man’s face when he’s ready for a fight. The end of his tail looks like a brush. “I just got a letter from my uncle,” he blurts out, and Evrard braces himself for impact. Q’sevet has plenty of good things to say about his uncle Q’tenbe, but you don’t become a priest of the Halonic Orthodox Church without learning to read between the lines.

“Is your village in trouble?”

He bites his lip, tail lashing anxiously behind him. “Yes. No. Maybe. I’m not sure. But there’s another one of those towers within sight of Drybone now, and with the Burning Wall and the Amal’jaa so close—he says everyone at home is fine, but in that way where he ain’t actually...” He waves his hands in what Evrard supposes is meant to encompass decades of frustration at double-speak. “Y’know?”

He knows. Usually, it involved Dravanian attacks, pointed comments regarding which parts of Ishgard were worthy of protection, and where precisely a priest who’d taken top marks in all his thaumaturgy classes ought to have been stationed. His ears go back. “Indeed. We can be there within a bell.”

Q’sevet blinks at him. “Wait. ‘We’? I was gonna ask for time off—”

He turns away to fetch his cloak, blood-red with the white dragon emblem of their free company. “Do we fly together or not? I’ll call Busari while you saddle our birds.”

Blink. Blink. And then, in a blur of speed, Q’sevet darts forward to catch him in a rib-crushing one-armed hug before bounding away, calling back over his shoulder, “I’ll catch you out front, boss!”

“Watch the—!”

“Ow!”

“...Table...”

“I’m alright! I’m alright!”

Sighing, he reaches for his armor. At least they have a destination now.