#Star Island aerial

[concertphotos]

Jennifer Lopez and Alex Rodriguez's House at 13 W Star Island Dr Miami Beach Aerial View

[queen-of-fanfics]

I Told You To Stay

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Prompt: Peter told you to stay.

A/N: Ayoooo lol I'm alive. Anywho Y'ALL I GRADUATED COLLEGE and the first thing I accomplished after was writing this fanfic. How have y'all been? Now I have some free time and a desk job so I have time to write more. I literally got the idea for this scenario from a dream I had. So... This one gets a little heated but nothing explicit.

I Told You To Stay Part 2

"Where do you think you're going?" Peter teases you as he grabs your arm to spin you around.

You were the second Lost Girl to have ever made it to the island. The first will always be Wendy. Wendy continues to be the mother figure around the island while you were free to run off hunting and exploring with the Lost Boys. You could never shake the feeling that either Wendy hated you or envied you. She would be stuck cooking and caring for the boy while you were almost like a sister. You two never got along too well, the feeling of competition was always there.

The second that you came to the island and met everyone, it was no surprise that Peter was the one that caught your eye. 

However, you were always hesitant to let any hope blossom in you since you thought that Peter and Wendy were together. And if they weren’t, she would have first dibs on him anyway. But that fact never stopped your crush and admiration of him from growing. Day in and day out, you were running through the forests with him and protecting the Lost Boys together. 

Tonight was a quiet and warm night and everyone had had their dinners and was heading to bed. Wendy had made dinner and stayed back at the camp to clean up. You were heading towards your cabin before Peter grabbed your arm.

“You aren’t going to bed already, are you?” Peter asked with his usual smirk.

“Why, huh? You got something in mind worth my while?”

“Only one way to find out, I suppose.” He hides his smile from you as he leads you into the forest. That leads to where you are now. Running through the trees and climbing up the cliff as Peter is bounding off in front of you.

Coming to a stop behind Peter, you drop your hands to your knees and your head drops to start gasping for air. “Are we there yet? I feel like my lungs are going to explode!”

All of a sudden you’re squealing in delight because Peter ran over to you and scooped you into the air, carrying you bridal style. He takes off flying and your arms shoot out and wrapped around his neck. 

“What are you doing?!” 

“Taking you up to see the stars!” He yelled over the whistling wind as you continued laughing until tears formed in your eyes. 

Daring to peek over his shoulders, you gasp at the beautiful aerial view of the island before he dives and does a giant loop in the air. Hugging him close, you shove your face into his neck and breathe in his scent. Though the night was cool, you felt warm against him. Wanting this moment to last forever but you know it can’t, you decide that you will hold this memory so you can always relive this happiness that you feel. 

Feeling dizzy either from the adrenaline or from him, you rest your head against him and press a soft kiss on his neck. 

Suddenly, Peter tosses you lightly into the air and you are airborne before he catches you but now your position has changed. Now you are sitting, straddling his hips, as his hands come to your behind to carry your weight. Your arms wrap around his neck again but now you are face-to-face with him. 

As a blush covers your face, you whisper, “Well hi there.” 

He gives you a small smile as he looks at your thorough hooded eyes, “Much better don’t you think? Now I can see you.” 

You sit there, chest to chest with breaths mingling, completely suspended in the air over a cliff. “What are we doing, Y/N?” His whisper caresses your skin and he leans in just a little bit closer.

“What do you mean?” You can’t help but do the same, almost like a string pulling you to him.

“You know exactly what I mean. Have you casted a spell on me? Making me dream of you every night and thinking of you every minute the sun is up? Have you made yourself my personal magnet to me so I can never not be near you? Are you bewitching me?” He continues to whisper as one of his hands drags up your body and grips the back of your neck, pulling you in closer until your noses are barely touching. 

Your breaths are coming out shaking but your fingers find their way to his hand and you tighten your hold, desperately keeping him close. 

“What if it’s you that is playing with my head?”

Your lips are brushing against each other but not quite touching. Your brain fogs with desire but it’s all pulled away from you as Peter abruptly pulls away and starts flying back to land.

“Wha-” You’re dizzy from the sudden change but you aren’t able to be stable on your feet before Peter is hurriedly pulling you through the trees. Silently giggling and running through the forest, your heart is beating out of your chest. 

Coming to a clearing, you see a small and simple log cabin sitting by itself. There are a few steps leading up to a porch that surrounds the little cabin. 

“Where are we, Peter?”

“This is my place.” He finally slows down to a stop.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck. The movement pulls a giggle out of your throat but you don’t take your eyes off the cute cottage.

“I thought you had a tent back at the campsite with everyone else, hm? Are you keeping secrets from us now?” You tease.

“I always have secrets, don’t you know. But this is my own quiet place. I come here when I need to think. Or when I’m scheming.” He tickles your sides and gives your neck a quick kiss before he straightens. “Come on, let’s go inside.” He takes your hand and walks you into the cabin. 

The inside of the cabin matches its look on the outside. Comfortable. Simple. Nothing extravagant. The main room is open. One side seems to act as a dining room with a large table with a few chairs beside it. The other side of the room has a matching large table but this table is covered in maps, scrolls, trinkets, and many other items you did not recognize. You see a door towards the back of the cabin which you could tell leads to a bedroom.  

“Here, let me get you some water before you pass out on me.” 

But before Peter could take a step or before you could even respond, a voice calls out from the back room.

“Peter darling? Did you just get home?”

The blood drains from your face and your eyes grow to saucers as you see Wendy walk out of the back room. Your ears started ringing and it feels as though everything is happening so fast yet so slowly. 

Peter marches over to Wendy and angrily argues with her though you couldn’t hear anything over the muffling in your ears. “What are you doing here? Who said you could be here?”

“What are you talking about, baby? Don’t be like that.” 

Wendy tries to run her hands up Peter’s front side but her hands do not get far before he grabs her hands and throws them off of him. 

Your eyes shoot back and forth between Peter and Wendy and you could hear yourself mumbling, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t-” You hadn’t realized that you were backing up until you felt the front door hit your back. 

Before you knew it, Peter was in front of you. All you could do was stare up at him with your heart ready to leap out of your chest. You were confused and hurt and scared and you wanted to be mad. But looking up at him. With his face soft and full of worry. All you could do was trust. Trust in what, you weren’t sure. But a wave of calmness fell over you as you looked at him and his hands came up to softly grip your shoulders. 

Peter was gently moving you through the cabin and you could hear Wendy protesting but you couldn’t clear your head enough to hear what she was saying. Peter leads you to the back room which is his bedroom. He sits you on his bed and whispers to you, “Stay here.” 

“Peter, I can go. I should’ve known you two were together. I shouldn’t be here, I can go.” But before you could make a move for the door, Peter grips your face gently but firmly, “I said ‘stay here’. I will figure this out. I’m not with her. She isn’t welcome here. You. Stay. Here.” 

Peter slammed the door behind him as he left and all you could do was sit on the bed as you were told. Looking around the room, there wasn’t much there to keep you entertained. There was a nightstand by the bed with a few nicknacks on it. A desk with papers covered in writing you couldn’t read. No pictures. No posters. Nothing. Twiddling your thumbs, you tried to not overthink. You sat as patiently as you could but as the minutes ticked by and their angry whispering didn't stop, your anxiety started to kick up.

What if he is lying? Why would she just randomly be here? She’s comfortable enough coming in and out of his place like that. He could just be telling me what I want to hear. Of course, they’re together. Even a blind person could see that they were together. When did I become so dumb?! I need to get out of here. 

Your breathing starts to become more rapid as your mind starts spiraling. Looking around the room, there was only one door, and that led back to the main room where Peter and Wendy are. The only other thing in the room was a window that sat above the desk. That was your ticket out. You thank the stars that you weren’t on an upstairs floor or anything or else this escape plan was going to be harder than you thought.

Swinging the window wide enough for your body to fit through, you quietly climbed up onto the table, careful not to disturb anything, and started to push out. You managed to make your way out but you accidentally made a loud thump as your body hit the back deck. Before you could stop and think about what to do, you jumped to your feet and took off running into the forest. 

You ran until your lungs burned and ran some more. All around you were trees, trees, and more trees. Everything looked the same yet you didn’t recognize where you were. “Shit I should have been paying attention on the way here. Where the fuck am I?”

Coming to a stop, you drop your hands to your knees to try and catch your breath. After a few deep breaths, you stand up tall and prepare to take off again, at a more reasonable pace this time that you’re far enough away.

But before you could head off, something flies into you and you go slamming back into a tree. A warm, hard body pushes up against you and holds you flush against the tree with no room to escape. It’s still too dark in the night and the trees are blocking the moonlight so you can’t see what has you pinned. You start wiggling around and try to use your hands to push yourself free but a hand wraps around your wrists and pins them above your head. Something comes close to your ear and you could feel the anger radiating from this figure.

“I thought I told you to stay.”

I Told You To Stay Pt. 2

[s-soulwriter]

Fantasy place (which you can use for your story)

Some fantasy places you can use for your next story .

Luminoth Hollow: A subterranean cavern filled with glowing crystals that emit soothing light. Luminoth Hollow is home to a race of peaceful, bioluminescent creatures who communicate through light patterns.

Zephyria: A floating archipelago of lush, skyborne islands, tethered together by colossal, living vines. Each island has its unique ecosystem and is inhabited by winged creatures who navigate the skies between them.

Aurora Glade: A tranquil meadow hidden within a giant, sentient tree. The glade is bathed in eternal twilight and inhabited by gentle, dreamweaving creatures who protect the dreams of those who visit.

The Obsidian Spire: A towering, black monolith that pierces the heavens. It's said that at its peak lies a portal to another realm, guarded by enigmatic sentinels who test the worth of those who seek passage.

Eldertide Marsh: A mystical swamp where ancient, sentient trees rise from the waters, and luminous fireflies lead travelers along phosphorescent pathways. It's rumored that the marsh holds the key to unlocking forgotten knowledge.

Clockwork Citadel: A colossal, mechanical fortress powered by intricate gears and steam. Clockwork automatons serve as both guardians and caretakers, and the citadel houses a library containing the accumulated wisdom of the ages.

Whispering Sands: A desert where the dunes are constantly shifting, and the winds carry the whispers of long-forgotten spirits. At its heart stands an oasis of liquid crystal that reveals glimpses of the past and future.

The Eternal Library: A massive, floating island covered in towering bookshelves. Each book contains the life story of an individual, and the library is said to grant the power to rewrite destinies.

Gloomwood Thicket: A dense, enchanted forest perpetually cloaked in twilight. Within its shadows reside shadowy creatures that can manipulate time, making it a place of both wonder and danger.

Abyssal Abyss: An underwater realm where bioluminescent flora and fauna thrive. Merfolk and other aquatic beings have built stunning, glowing cities within deep-sea caves.

Sylvan Skylines: An archipelago of floating islands inhabited by tree-dwelling, bird-like beings who harness the power of wind and weather. They craft intricate bridges and pathways connecting their aerial homes.

Whispering Peaks: Towering, mist-shrouded mountains said to hold the knowledge of the cosmos. Monasteries and meditation chambers dot the landscape, where monks seek enlightenment through quiet contemplation.

The Emberforge: An underground forge where skilled blacksmiths craft legendary weapons and armor imbued with the essence of fallen stars. The air is filled with the sound of hammers on metal and the crackling of celestial flames.

The Crystal Canyons: A network of canyons adorned with enormous, glowing crystals that resonate with hauntingly beautiful melodies when touched. Nomadic crystal herders roam the canyons, taming the living crystals.

The Dreamer's Archipelago: A series of islands, each representing different dreams and nightmares. Travelers can enter these dreamscapes and interact with the inhabitants, who are manifestations of dreams themselves.

[valkyrie138]

A Court of Ice and Shadow - Chapter 1

Pairing: Half-Seraphim/Half-High Fae OC x Azriel

Summary: After the war against Hybern, Astrid, a young half-seraphim half-high fae, is struggling with a growing power with little to no answers of how or why it's happening. After an incident at her home in Cretea, Miryam and Prince Drakon send her to train with Rhysand.

With the threat of Koschei looming, Azriel has been running himself to the ground, trying to find more information. The search has been a helpful distraction from a certain Archeron sister, but what will happen with the new guest in the house of wind that he seemingly can't stay away from?

Overview: This is an 18+ series, angst, canon-type violence, murder, torture, smut, fluff, etc.

Note: Please be kind. This is my first time writing in a really long time, but I'm always open to constructive criticism. Also, if anyone wants to be an editor, send me a message!

Word Count: 2.3k

Next

»»————-　✼　————-««

Astrid loved this view of Cretea. Lately, it had become her favorite place on the island. She’d often spend her nights atop the Brightwater Palace, the home of Prince Drakon and Lady Miryam. The palace sat atop the most prominent hill on the island, the stone pillars tall enough that they seemed to touch the stars. She loved this view and how she could observe her home below in almost its entirety. Astrid watched as a half-fae left a tavern with flushed cheeks, their human partner struggling to hold them up. The young seraphim wondered how the couple met. Was it stolen looks in a tavern, or did they find comfort in one another after the war? Astrid sighed as her eyes continued to scan the city below her. She missed the nights when she was red-cheeked and giggling with Lucy and Kendra while they stumbled home. But sitting up here and making up stories of those she observed seemed interesting enough. Her eyes drifted through the island streets to the glittering Erythrian sea surrounding them. A small smile crept onto her rosy lips. She really did love this view. The sound of a person landing was what tour her eyes away from it. 

“They really should put a plaque here.” 

“Whatever for, Kendra?” Astrid drawled, looking at her sister-in-arms. Kendra, with sharp green eyes and auburn hair, was the captain of the Seraphim aerial legion. 

“So they can cement this as your spot, obviously. Your ass has made an imprint in the stone. That, at least, deserves a plaque,” Kendra was also a smart ass.

“I’ll make sure to tell Drakon and Miryam that you think my ass deserves such an honor,” she quipped before turning her gaze back to the city. Kendra moved to sit beside her, her feet dangling over the edge. 

“I’m heading to the taverns tonight. Would you like to join me?”

There would be so many people, so many thoughts, so many memories, and so many emotions. Astrid's chest tightened at the thought. She sighed, “Not tonight.” She could feel Kendra’s disappointment wash over her. The captain stared at her for a while, her face contemplative. “Have you told Miryam and Drakon that you’re struggling? If anyone could help, it would be them.”

Astrid, hearing the question, sucked in a breath. There was no real point in trying to lie to Kendra. Astrid may have the daemati power, but Kendra always knew what she was thinking. A small part of Astrid wished she could go back in time and take back that drunk confession from a few moons ago. The moment she told Kendra that this new daemati ability controlled her more than she could control it, Astrid knew Kendra would be on top of her to fix it. 

“No,” Astrid confessed. “Miryam suspects something is going on, though. I’m staying at the palace tomorrow. I’m sure she’ll ask.”

Astrid’s eyes lingered on the Cretea for another moment; she loved this island. But her eyes drifted to the other side of the palace, which looked out across a dark sea. Her mind often wondered what was happening across those blue waves. She had only left Cretea once, and it was to fight in the war against Hybern. No one on the island knew what was happening in Pyrthian for the past 52 years. Astrid felt that growing pain in her chest again, the warm air suddenly feeling like a small fire in her throat. The war had a cost, and the carnage still plagued her nightmares. But she still wondered what was happening in those faraway courts.

“I wonder what she’s doing, too,” whispered Kendra. She meant Lucy, the missing piece of their trio. The pain in Astrid's chest deepened, her heart aching. Lucy had lost her wings during the battle. Astrid was there when it happened,  saw the Hybern soldier shoot her out of the sky, and heard Lucy’s screams as she fell. The memory played in her mind on a loop, and her guilt festered somewhere deep within her. After the battle, Lucy decided to stay in Prythian and start a new life. Neither Astrid nor Kendra had heard from her since. Remembering Kendra’s comment, Astrid only replied with a slight nod. 

“Maybe the High Lord will know,” Kendra added. 

“I do hear that he has eyes everywhere,” Astrid noted. The High Lord of the Night Court would be coming to the palace tomorrow for what she didn’t know. Kendra stood up slowly, wiping her pants lightly. 

“If you aren’t joining me at the taverns tonight, at least get some sleep. You look positively dead,” the captain quipped. 

“You really do know how to flatter me,” Astrid replied, a smirk spread across her face. 

Kendra flew off with a wave over her shoulder. She watched as her friend flew above the streets and disappeared from view. Astrid’s eyes swept across Cretea, the rolling seas, and then settled on the stars above her. On clear nights, she used to sit on the roof of her family's home with her father, counting the stars, finding constellations, and listening to her father tell the stories behind them. She wondered if he was up there, along with her mother and sisters, watching over her. She wondered if they were proud of the female she had become. She felt the fissure deepen in her chest, full of ice and unyielding. She sharply swallowed the feeling, pushing it down, down, down. She couldn’t afford that cracking, the breaking. With a sigh, Astrid reached her arms to the sky as she stretched her back, her white wings fluttering behind her with relief. The hours spent sitting on the stone edge of the palace did nothing for her sore back. Astrid took one last longing look at the sea and the stars as she stood before gazing at Cretea below and flying home. 

»»————-　✼　————-««

The nightmares had plagued Astrid again that night. She awoke struggling to breathe, and ice covered her room, the temperature far below normal. She almost flung herself off the balcony in her room while trying to gulp down fresh air. Her dreams were full of the deaths of her family, and of her fellow soldiers she lost in the war. Their cries still felt like they were still echoing in her ears. The young seraphim stood examining her reflection. Her moon-white hair was pulled back high on her head, with intricate braids starting at her temples. Her midnight-blue eyes were stark against her hair and milk-colored skin. Her eyes drifted to her leathers. She probably should have worn a dress for the meeting with the High Lord, but her nightmares had left her feeling uneasy, the grip on her power slippery. The supple grey leather provided her a comfort that no court dress would. A knock on her door made her tear her eyes from the mirror.

“Come in, Dalia,” she said, turning toward the door. Dalia was a half-fae, half-seraphim like herself, who was well over half a century old but would never confirm her age. She was also positively senile.

“Astrid, you couldn’t have deigned to wear a dress today!” The old female exclaimed as she set down a tray of pastries. Most would take Dalia’s tone toward Astrid as rude. But the seraphim knew how the old hag felt about her. Astrid loved her; she was like an overbearing grandmother, with her braided grey hair and small, frail body. 

“You know I just like being prepared for anything,” Astrid winked at her as she continued, “I’m guessing the bat is about to land on our shores.” 

Dalia rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly, “You should mind your tongue. He should be arriving soon, and I pray to the mother that you don’t converse this way with the High Lord.” 

 Astrid smiled at the old female, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, Dalia, I only reserve this way of conversation with you.” 

“You are going to send me to an early grave,” Dalia quipped as she sat before the fireplace.

“I keep you young, old hag.” Another knock sounded on her door. The smell of sea and hydrangea wafted in Astrid’s nose, “Come in, Miryam.” 

The dark-haired lady slipped through the door, her sage green eyes immediately falling on Astrid.

“I’ll have to tell Drakon he owes me thirty gold marks. I knew you would wear your leathers today.” She smirked as she crossed the room to sit across from Dalia, picking up a pastry as she sat. 

“I told her she should have worn a dress today,” replied the ancient female as she stood. “Now, I will see you later, and please remember to watch your tongue around the High Lord." With that, Dalia slipped from the room. Astrid could feel Miryam's emotions shift from ease to concern. With a small sigh, she sat beside the princess, her palms sweating. 

“I brought you something,” Miryam said as she pulled a rectangular jewelry box from behind her back. Astrid took it from her before resting it on her lap. The red velvet was smooth beneath her fingertips. Lifting the lid, a lump formed in her throat. In the box was a silver warrior’s diadem; it had carvings of feathers and wings sprouted near where it would meet her ears and a large sapphire shaped like a teardrop in the middle. The lump seemed to grow in her throat, an ache beginning to form in her chest, her eyes burning. 

“This was my mother's,” Astrid croaked. 

“It was always going to go to one of you,” Miryam paused while Astrid tried to shove this feeling of despair down till she couldn’t feel anymore. This diadem was going to go to one of her sisters, not her, if they hadn’t been murdered. If she hadn’t- “your mother would want you to have it.” Miryam finished as she delicately picked up the finery and placed it on Astrid’s head. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror; the circlet was the most ornate thing she had ever worn. 

“You look so much like her,” Miryam smiled at her. “She and your father would be proud to see that on you.” She supposed they would. The circlet had been her mother's, but instead of a stone of sapphire, her mother's was emerald green. Her mother was a high fae from the Winter Court before the war, where she met her father. After coming to Cretea, her mother was Miryam's hand, which meant she was officially part of the royal court. Her parents would be proud if they were still alive. The burning in her chest only seemed to grow at the idea. She shouldn’t be the one wearing it; her parents should still be here, and her sisters should be too, and it was her fault they weren’t. Her skin began to tingle, her throat dry and hot. Astrid quickly took the circlet off her head, its weight feeling too much. 

“Astrid?” She looked at the princess. Miryam’s eyes were wide, and her feeling of worry was closing in on her. “We might not be blood, but you are part of this family. Whatever is going on in that mind of yours…let me help.” Her voice was soft and empathetic as if she were speaking to a skittish deer.

Astrid gulped. The knot in her throat slid down to her stomach, heavily nestling itself there. “I’ve been…struggling.” She couldn’t meet Miryam's eyes as she said it, the dread of admitting she didn’t have a handle on her power. She didn’t know how the princess would even be able to help, but she continued, “I can handle getting into other's minds and shutting them out, most of the time, but” she paused, trying to find the words, “I can feel everyone's emotions all the time, I can’t escape them. No matter how hard I try, I can’t shut them out. It’s honestly…suffocating. And it sometimes just becomes too much to control at once.” 

Miryam didn’t say anything at first, just grabbing the circlet from Astrid's hands and placing it back on her head. Light green eyes stared at her as a wave of reassurance and determination washed over her. 

“The High Lord, Rhysand, you know he is a close friend. One of the few who knew this island existed before Hybern. He’s a very powerful daemati, and so is his mate. If you're comfortable, we can ask him for some assistance during dinner.” 

Astrid sucked in a deep breath. It would be embarrassing to admit to a High Lord that she couldn’t master this dumb power, and not many were privy to the knowledge of Astrid’s powers. It was unusual for fae to gain new powers as they aged. The seraphim was young in fae terms, only seventy-six, but her power was growing and expanding to levels even the oldest fae on Cretea weren’t familiar with. She had spent hours in Cretea’s library with their oldest scholars, trying to find answers. Still, because her people found refuge here, their libraries were considerably less dense than those in Prythian. Since the war, her daemati abilities have grown to feel others' emotions. And after the war, none of the feelings were good. These past months, she had found herself drowning in it, the sorrows of those around her suffocating her. After a while, she stayed in her townhouse, never leaving unless going to the palace. She knew she couldn’t live like this forever; Astrid only nodded in response before she felt a slight panic snake around her chest, a foreign feeling, not her own or Miryam’s. 

           “I believe the High Lord is here,” Astrid replied, knowing the time for this conversation was over. Miryam only gave her a soft smile of reassurance before taking hold of her hand. Together, they walked down Brightwater Palace halls, the seafoam-marbled floors and tall white pillars surrounding them. Standing at the home entrance was one of the most handsome man Astrid had ever seen. 

[xitty]

Seisoukan / Starmony Dorms

Here is the Seisoukan page from Ensemble Stars!! Official Works Vol. 1. The dorm room placement is NOT confirmed, only roommates and the floors are accurate. More info after the picture!

Building 1

Building 2

Old building (where Alkaloid & Crazy:B stayed at first)

Courtyard

Pool/fountain

Rooftop garden *

Main entrance of building 1

Back entrance of building 1

Second floor entrance

Front entrance (to the area)

Back entrance (to the area)

Bike parking

Car parking

Ensemble Square

It doesn't say it here but you can see in the courtyard background images in-game that Building 2, where the dorm rooms are, has doors in the front. The common room is located roughly where number 1 is in the picture but on the first floor. And here's the useless fact of the day: the building is made of reinforced concrete.

* Maybe more like rooftop park. You can see it in Shinobu's Ninja Discussion 4* unbloomed card (from Tetora FS1 scout) and it's pretty empty, not very garden-y... The same card's bloomed version shows you the pool/fountain more closely too btw!

Here is an aerial image where you can see where Seisoukan is situated on the island: across the road on the right. (Picture from Road to Show!! movie)

[tinydefector]

G/N human reader headcanons with Ratchet, Knockout, and Starscream. Reader has autism. Their special interests include roller coasters and horror/slasher content. Bonus points if The Racer (Kings Island) or Space Mountain (Disney World) is mentioned. As for horror, extra points for the any Freddy Krueger mentions. Ehehe, reader definitely will try to pull them into watching a slasher movie, or maybe persuade them to go to an amusement park (in their holoform maybe?). Sorry if this is too specific 😅

HORROR MOVIES AND ROLLACOSTERS

Warnings: slight mention of gore

Word count: 2k

Request and ask open, read pinned post

Masterlist

Starscream masterlist

Knockout masterlist

Ratchet masterlist

So where I am in Australia, we don't really have a lot of Rollacosters, so I hope I did this alright. I tried to add a mix into this, so I do hope you enjoy it.

________________

Starscream 

- this is a mech who doesn't like horror movies after the experience with the zombie Venicons/ spark eaters

-he does make exceptions for certain movies mainly ones which don't involve undead monsters

- he tends to let you ramble about different slashers but doesn't have much input into it. 

- He isn't fond of human's but he does make an exception for you, he enjoy watching you get excited. 

- he does take quite an interest in your liking for Rollacosters because of the adrenaline aspect of it. 

-he ends up taking you on joy flights quite often. 

"Starscream... I know you have been rather busy but would you be up for watching some horror movies with me?" Their voice calls out as the Decepticon continues walking around his quarters. It wasn't often that they got to ask him.

"Horror movies, you say? Well, this is an unexpected invitation," Starscream replies thoughtfully. "While I do enjoy watching organics squirm in fear on screen, I have several tasks that demand my attention this cycle. It would not do for me to neglect my duties as Air Commander, not with Megatron in one of his moods. Perhaps another time, when our schedules align?" 

He pauses, considering. Entertainment has its and perhaps he could continue his duties while watching. "Very well then, a short viewing session. But only if you have procured films with impressive gore and suspense. None of that formulaic slash and spatter."

With that, Starscream returns his attention to his datapads, he slowly types away on the data pad, optics flicking between watching them and working.  

It wasn't often he actually took the time to spend quality time with you. Over the time you had been under his watch he had slowly grown to enjoy the company. "I can always put on one of the final destination films, I happen to rather enjoy the way the 'deaths' occur in the film. Plus my favourite is the Rollacoster one" they explain while setting everything up to be able to enjoy the movies. 

"Ah yes, Final Destination - I've heard Knockout speak of that series before, after one of his ‘outings’ " Starscream replies thoughtfully. "Let's see if it lives up to its grisly reputation." As the human begins cueing up the selected film, Starscream settles himself in for the viewing, optics gleaming with anticipation. 

"Do press play then, and we shall see if Earth's deathly spectre can outdo the Pit-spawned horrors of Cybertron's gladiatorial arenas," Starscream says with a sly grin. 

They snuggle in against his side despite the fact the bot wasn't overly warm. "Honestly Rollacoster aren't that bad, we do have a few incidents with them every once in a while but a lot of the rides have gotten alot better over the years with safety. I have quite a few I really enjoy going on when I have the money" the begin info dumping while the movie begins playing.

"While Earth's primitive contraptions cannot compare to the aerial mysteries of Cybertron, I appreciate your insight into this...rollercoaster," he rumbles thoughtfully. typing away as he looks up every now and then. "Indeed, your species performs admirably under duress." 

"Stars you go on them for fun, the adrenaline of the ride. The wind against your skin and the loops that make you feel nauseous" they state teasingly "Maybe one day I could take you too one, once your war is over" they hum optimistically.

Starscream chuckles softly. "I understand the appeal of testing one's frame to its limits. In the skies above Cybertron, there was nothing like breaking the sound barrier in a tailspin or outfoxing three Autobot Seekers at once. The rush of battle-joy before the sweet relief of victory...ah, those were cycles to savour indeed." 

His optics take on a distant glow, recalling aerobatic glories past. Turning to gaze upon his companion, Starscream's manner softens. "Your offer is...kind. Misplaced, but kind. “

Ratchet 

-he's a bot who has seen to many horrors, and would rather not watch horror movies at all

-he's more than happy reading horror stories and a few times he has actually ready you to sleep. 

-he does take the time to take you back to bed and turn off movies

-Rollacosters are another thing he isn't fond off but he does let you take him on Roller Coaster ride.

- expect him to tell you all about the dangers of Rollacosters 

"Come on Ratchet I promise it's gonna be fun!" The human laughs while dragging the medics' holoform with them towards the Rollacoster. The theme park had been packed full of people. Ratchet's holoform sighed in exasperation, reluctantly following along as the human dragged him towards the roller coaster. The theme park was bustling with people, the sound of laughter and excitement filling the air. Ratchet's optics narrowed, his concern for the safety of the humans growing.

"Look, I understand that amusement parks are meant to be enjoyable, but you should also prioritise your safety," Ratchet grumbled, trying to reason with the human. "Roller coasters can be dangerous if not properly maintained."

He glanced around, assessing the crowd and observing the roller coaster's structure. His holoform crossed his arms, a stern expression on his face. "I'm not going on that thing."

"Ratchet, they aren't dangerous, they have to do that much maintenance and safety check on them. I promise you it will be safe!" They state while lining up for the ride with him. Ratchet's holoform raised an optic ridge, sceptical of the human's assurance. He knew the importance of safety checks and maintenance, but he couldn't help but worry about the unpredictable nature of amusement park rides. Nevertheless, he found himself standing in line with the human, observing the roller coaster as it roared by.

"Fine, we'll give it a shot," Ratchet reluctantly agreed, his tone still cautious. "But if anything feels off or if I detect any potential danger, we're getting off immediately. Understand!" As they waited in line, Ratchet kept a watchful optic on the ride's operations and the safety measures in place. He couldn't help his concern for the human's well-being, even if he tried to hide it behind his gruff exterior.

"Ratch you worry so much you old bucket of bolts!" They press their head against the holoforms shoulder. "You'll enjoy it I promise you, now stop worrying. Come on!" they state while dragging him further up the line. Ratchet stiffened slightly, He couldn't help but feel a flicker of annoyance at their dismissive remark, but he also understood their intention. To lighten the atmosphere and make him let go of his worries, even if just for a moment.

He sighed and allowed himself to be dragged further up the line, reluctantly letting go of his concerns for the time being. "Alright, alright," he grumbled, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "But remember, I'll be holding you to your promise."

It isn't until after the ride that they are sitting down. Ratchet's hologram looks rather pale after the ride. Their laughter is soft as they watch him come down for his first Rollercoaster ride. Ratchet tries to maintain a composed demeanour, despite feeling a bit disoriented and pale. They noticed the human's amusement at his expense and couldn't help but let out a grumpy sigh.

"I hope you enjoyed that spectacle," Ratchet muttered, attempting to regain their composure. "Though I must admit, that was an... interesting experience."

A small smirk tugged at the corner of their lips, teasing and lightheart remarks passed between them both in that moment. Deep down, he knew that the experience wasn't as dreadful as he initially feared, even if his hologram didn't quite hide their pale color.

"Just don't expect me to become a roller coaster enthusiast anytime soon," Ratchet added, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Now, let's find something a little less... intense to enjoy, shall we?"

Ratchet's holoform listened as the human chartered away, discussing their favourite roller coasters and transitioning into conversations about their other interests and hyperfixations. Ratchet found himself intrigued by the human's passion and enthusiasm.

"Interesting," Ratchet commented, a hint of curiosity in their voice. "I can understand the appeal of the ride but I'd rather not go on another."

Knockout 

- Knockout has always enjoyed human horror movies and he adores getting to watch them with you. 

-he will curl up watching them with you even if they startle him often with jump scares. 

-he loves theorising things about different slashers and horror movies. 

-Rollercoasters on the other hand he doesn't like, he'd rather keep his feet on flat ground. 

- he does find it rather amusing listening to you talk about your hyperfixation. 

- he will actively take you to amusement parks just so he can enjoy watching you have fun. 

They laugh lightly as Knockout's optics widened as the unexpected jumpscare appeared on the screen, causing him to involuntarily jump in his seat. His engine revved in surprise, a faint whirring sound emanating from his frame. "Omg did you get jump scared by Freddy Krueger!" They giggle while eating popcorn. 

His attention shifted from the movie to the fleshy sitting beside him, their laughter contagious and infectious.

He playfully narrowed his optics, a mischievous smirk forming on his faceplate. "Oh, you think that's funny, do you?" Knockout retorted, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. He reached over and playfully nudged them with his servo. "Just you wait. I'll make sure to get you back with an even better scare."

As the movie continued, Knockout couldn't help but enjoy the bonding experience. They lean their head against Knockout while they continue watching their movie, "watch those claws Krueger!" They shoot at him.Knockout chuckled softly at their playful comment and leaned closer to them, his frame emitting a low purr of amusement. He draped his servo over their shoulder, the metal plating of his fingers acting as a gentle caress against their flesh.

"Krueger doesn't stand a chance against me, my dear," Knockout replied, his voice laced with a hint of smugness. "I've got claws of my own, and trust me, they're much more impressive than his."

"Hahaha Knockout he's a Dream demon you don't stand a chance mister!, remember the zombie Venocons, you squealed like a little girl!" They almost shout at him.

Knockout's optics widened in mock offence at their words, his audio receptors registering their playful shout. He couldn't help but let out a laugh, his voice filled with amusement and a touch of embarrassment.

"Hey now, let's not bring up ancient history!" Knockout responded, feigning indignation. "Those Vehicons caught me by surprise, that's all. It was a momentary lapse of composure, I assure you." He playfully nudged them with his elbow, his smirk returning. "But trust me, when it comes to dream demons or any other menacing creatures, I'll make sure to show them who's the real master of scare around here."

With a twinkle in his optics, Knockout grabs them. He chuckled mischievously as they squealed and tried to escape his grasp. His grip tightened ever so slightly, his servos strong and secure, preventing them from slipping away. He relished in their playful resistance, enjoying the thrill of the chase.

"Oh, no you don't," Knockout teased, his voice laced with amusement. "You're not getting away that easily, my dear."  Knockout leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a flirtatious whisper. "You know, you're quite adorable when you squirm like that. But don't worry, I won't keep you captive for too long. Just long enough to enjoy this little game we're playing."

As the movie continued to play, Knockout held them in his grasp, their laughter blending with the sounds of the film. It was a playful and content moment he had in such a long time. a reminder that even amidst the chaos, there was room for laughter and enjoyment. “I hope you know that I'll get you back my dear, just you wait sweetspark, this little game is on “ he hums lightly against their ear. 

[setra-studies]

heyyy, since you said youd like to tell me more about that japanese occupation thing, i am here requesting anything else about it just cuz you seem to have lots of fun explaining it!! :3

1940s : a filipino perspective

∘₊✧ ─── • ✧ • ───✧ ₊∘

oh my god !!!

thank you SO much for this ask!!!

alr alr i'll actually get started now

TWS: blood, war, injury, bombings, rape, murder, general war-crime stuff, HEAVY torture

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 1941: the start of fear

japan, aspiring to unite the countries in asia into the greater east asia co-prosperity sphere, called GEACOPS for short, had occupied manchuria already by the 1940s, and the philippines was the next thing japan wanted.

but the philippines was already occupied and colonized by the americans -- so this lead to the famous bombing of pearl harbour on december 7, 1941. in my textbook, here's an excerpt of the news in the honolulu star bulletin:

this was very strategic, as this was the largest american military base in the pacific, therefore cancelling out america disrupting japan's takeover as they were recovering from the bombing.

USAFFE (united states armed forces in the far east) were an army of filipino and american soldiers organized by general douglas macarthur, but were no match for the japanese forces. marching from north and southeast, the japanese moved toward manila and occupied the city.

an account of the pearl harbour bombing in the philippines by lourdes reyes montinola states:

on december 8, 1941, feast of the immaculate conception, we were on our way to church when news of the bombing of pearl harbour came. that same evening, a piercing siren warned us of an aerial attack--the first of a hundred we were to experience. we crouched in fear as the enemy dropped the first bombs, and our defenders fired anti-aircraft guns . . .

we remained unaware of impending tragedy until the day manila was declared an open city. we did not realize how bad things were going to be until we saw enemy soldiers carrying white flags with the red sun slowl passing through taft avenue . . . soon after, our house was commandeered by the japanese as were many other residences on vito cruz and taft avenue . . .

general macarthur declared manila an open city on december 26, 1941, which means it has been abandoned by its defenders. the japanese invaders, however, continued bombing, until vital installations and buildings of manila were gone. on new year's day 1941, USAFFE retreated into the hills and forest of bataan in the west, foreshadowing an even which will eventually be called the most inhuman atrocity in world war ii -- the bataan death march.

in the afternoon before christmas day, december 24, 1941 amid heavy bombings in the city the national government headed by quezon* and osmeña* were evacuated to the island fortress of corregidor. secretary of justice jose abad santos, general basilio valdes, and colonel manuel nieto were with them. manila was left under the care of jose p. laurel, the acting chief justice and the city mayor, jorge vargas. at the malinta tunnel in corregidor, quezon and osmeña took their oath for their second term as president and vice president of the philippine commonwealth*. after a few days the group left for australia and then for the united states.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ surrender and the open city

moving on to the horrific death march in bataan, soldiers were imprisoned by the japanese. but with no provisions, they were then ordered to walk to camp o'donnel, a concetration camp in capas, tarlac, and their march reached a whopping total of 126 kilometers.

but before that could happen, first, on april 9th, 1942, the 75,000 strong USAFFE soldiers in bataan laid down their arms, surrendering to the japanese. may 6th, 1942, the last remaining stronghold, corregidor, was also surrendered by general wainwright.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ the horrors of bataan

to understand the terrible nature of this event, you must understand that no one had water. no one had food. no town could offer the dehydrated, starving filipino and american soldiers food or water or risk being beat by the japanese. escape was impossible, as the japanese shot down whoever attempted to do so. not even dirty canals or wells were available to men for drinking water. the dead were left to grow hot in the sun by the roadside, and if you were nearly dead the japanese would just shoot you and end it already. watches, rings, fountain pens, everything was looted by the japanese soldiers from the USAFFE men.

of the group that started in bataan, 10,000 died. more died in the concentration camp.

from san fernando, surviving prisoners were densely packed into boxcars with no ventilation and brought to capas. as the trains moved to their location under the hot sun, the boxcars became ovens that cooked the men inside alive.

six kilometers were left after their trip, that were once again agonisingly walked by the soldiers. 15,000 died of hunger, malaria, diarrhea, and more executions. a war veteran by name of quirico v. cadang shares his experience in his memoirs:

the earlier mentioned jose p laurel now acted as president of what is called the puppet government -- named after the japanese's puppetry of the new president. laurel was actually doing well in regards to running the country and reducing harm done, and allowed philippine history to finally be taught in schools. this government, the japanese-sponsored republic, was inaugurated on october 13, 1942.

beheadings, cutting of throats, and casual shootings were the more common actions of japanese war atrocities--compared to instances of bayonet stabbing, rape, disembowelment, rifle butt beating and a deliberate refusal to allow the prisoners food or water while keeping them continually marching in tropical heat. falling down or inability to continue moving was tantamount to a death sentence, as was any degree of protest.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ the state of the government

economy was at an all time low during the occupation -- food and water scarce, as money was used to repair bombed buildings and such. prices soared in result.

the japanese kempeitai raided houses with unregistered radios, whos owners were then imprisoned in fort santiago, and inhuman punishments were meted out to them as a daily exercise.

failing to bow to the japanese sentries stationed at street corners resulted in harm to whoever had done so -- but that was not the main source of fear. the spy was.

filipinos could also be spies for the japanese -- called the makapili (literally meaning "choosy" or "the one who chooses"). he was to identify rebels (called guerrillas) and those identified would become targets and would be executed accordingly.

many years after the war, the abuses done to filipino women came to light. the "comfort women" were used to relieve soldier's sexual urges, and were often gathered into houses, even schools to be raped over and over every day. the infamous pulang bahay (red house) is the most well known place where this happened.

remedios fellas, 72, presented her story in a book entitled "the hidden battle of leyte: the picture diary of a girl taken by the japanese military." i will not describe anything in the book, as i deem it perhaps too graphic for this blog and i don't want people to get scared off. but i will say that stories like these were truly horrible, and no woman should ever suffer like this as spoil of war ever again.

by 1945, the americans were ready to return. after a bit of island-hopping (and subsequent victories), the leyte gulf war commensed. the american fleet, composed of 650 ships and 4 army divisions, cleared the area and subdued the japanese troops. from october 24 to 26, the battle for leyte gulf took place. the battle at surigao strait ended with the japanese annahilated. the battle of samar, after an endless day of fire and shooting, the americans had the upper hand. leyte, liberated on october 26th, 1945, was now the temporary capital.

the guerrilla / resistance movement was the main source of rebellion, monitoring enemy activity and reporting to general macarthur, to carry out assaults against the japanese military, and to kill japanese sympathizers and spies.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ freedom in reach

manila's liberation finally took place on january 9th, 1946, as the americans surprised the japanese with a landing of troops in lingayen gulf. on february 3, the troops entered manila. freeing prisoners, over 1000 were saved from the bilibid prisons -- and these prisoners were those of bataan and corregidor.

seeing the futility of their situation, the japanese committed a final horror before the battle begun -- the manila massacre. violent mutilations, rapes, and murders took place. filipinos were gathered into houses to be shot or burned down, and women were mass raped. a japanese battalion order dates february 13th reads:

when filipinos are to be killed they must be gathered in one place and disposed of with the consideration that ammunition and manpower must not be used to excess. because the disposal is a troublesome task they should be gathered into houses scheduled to be burned or demolished. they should also be thrown into the river.

about 100,000 of the one million residents in manila died in the absolute massacre. 1,000+ us soldiers were also part of the casualties while 5,565 were wounded. 16,000 japanese soldiers died as well, mostly sailors. the battle of manila was recorded as the fiercest urban fighting in the entire pacific war.

when in class, we watched a video of this massacre -- manila was gone. razed to the ground. on february 23rd -- my own birthday -- the fighting stopped. buildings gone. ground dirty with blood of filipinos, americans and japanese alike. the past six years culminated into a battle of the greatest intensity, and it ended in a city destroyed completely. the beauty of manila nowhere to be seen, the filipinos won back their independence at a cost too heavy to carry.

in malacañang palace, macarthur gathered the filipino leaders, finally declaring a statement that brought joy to the nation, that allowed the deaths of thousands of rebels to have come to use:

my country has kept the faith. your capital city, cruelly punished though it be, has regained its rightful place--citadel of democracy in the east.

∘₊✧ ─── • ✧ • ───✧ ₊∘

thank you for reading. feel free to request other historical events.

if you read through this and feel very traumatized, play tetris. you'll likely forget most of the traumatizing details. i apologize in advance.

[hanayori89]

🪶🪶 Lesson 6: Scandal on

Skyloft 🪶🪶

You could no longer blame it on the turbulence.

As Skyloft came into view, so did an aerial shot of your classmates standing on the island's edge. The clouds failed to veil the folded arms of the headmaster, Pipit's chagrin, or Zelda's scowl. 

The sight alone made your guts feel as if they had fallen to your kneecaps. 

Then, of course, there was Karane, her hands making a clapping motion that you could imagine was nowhere near as loud as the huge, unmistakable grin she wore on her freckled face. 

As you descended, Link cast a glance in your direction. "Let me handle Gaepora and Owlan." His voice hovered around you in warning. "But Y/N, please heed my warning and forfeit. Now that you have heard some of what Impa and I have discussed, the wing ceremony is the perfect opportunity for the imprisoned to break free once more. And if something happens to you, I-"

"You never even explained to me what 'the imprisoned' is. Why should I fear what I don't understand? Besides, I'm not a character in your silly legend anyway." Your response was snarky, but at least it didn't betray your hurt. "And I don't need you to protect me. I can protect myself. So, just focus on your goddess."

Link's Loftwing fluttered to a graceful stop by the light tower, where everyone was gathered in wait for your arrival. You hopped off, desperate to get away from Link so that he couldn't see the devastation that had made itself known between your scrunched-together brows.

Just focus on your goddess. You mentally repeated, feeling Link's eyes on your back as you left him stranded on top of his Loftwing.

Karane beelined toward you. In a hushed whisper, she chided, "Ohhhh, Y/N You've done it now. Sneaking out? At night? Without being a Loftwing pilot? With Link? Goddess, this is the most delicious scandal ever." 

"Karane..."

"Oh, if you had seen Zelda's face when word got out that you and Link were missing together! I wish I could have taken a photo and taped it to my locker. It was sensational!"

"Karane..."

"However, Pipit's ego is hurting. He blames himself for not seeing you or Link leave while he was on guard duty. Honestly, Y/N, I'm happy for you, but did you have to make Pipit look incompetent?" 

"Karane..."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're right. I just feel slighted, like we are best friends, and you didn't tell me once about you and Link. I knew you liked him! You're so obvious sometimes. Did you kiss? Did he profess his love to you among the stars on top of his crimson Loftwing?" 

"Karane!"

You grabbed your friends' shoulders and gave her a light shake. "Look, it was an accident! I did sneak out; however, it was by myself, and I ended up falling to the surface and-"

She cupped her pretty pout beneath her hands. "The surface! Y/N!"  You sighed, realizing your explanation was just fodder for more of Karane's questioning.

"What did you see down there?" 

"Uh, birds? A pinecone woman?"

Karane's eyes went wide. "Whoa, you saw birds?"

"I didn't really explore; Link dived after me and-"

"Link went after you? That's so, so romantic." Her eyes wandered far away as she clenched her hands over her heart. "I wonder if Pipit would dive off an island after me?"

As if by summoning, Pipit appeared beside you. Your outspoken best friend suddenly reverted into a timid husk of herself. "Oh, Hello Pipit." She grabbed one of her red pigtails and twirled it between her fingers.

"Karane." You stood in between them as their eyes did an amorous waltz around one another. 

"Oh Brother." You muttered beneath your breath.

Pipit looked at you with disdain. "Y/N. I am appalled. You had the most promise out of all of us to be the next knight. Why, you could have even been at my level. Why would you throw it away for a frivolous jaunt?" 

A thundering voice cut in. "Who cares why she did it? She did it, and honestly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, Y/N." Groose clapped your back. "I spent all morning consoling Zelda. Maybe now she'll finally see who the obvious choice for her heart is."

You looked at Groose. Groose, who knew Link's secret before you. Rage gently began to stoke you, and you grabbed his side, nipping some of his flesh with your fingers, causing him to shriek like a cat in a bathtub. 

"Hey! What are you- Ah!" 

"How dare you!" You hissed; your jaw clenched as you continued to peck him with pinches. 

"OwWwWwW. Y/N!!!" He broke free from your grip and ran away. 

"Pansy." You murmured as you watched him trip and fall in his effort to escape. Your eyes lifted past him to Zelda, mollycoddling and smothering Link. His hand was rubbing the back of his neck in that awkward mannerism he did when he was uncomfortable with flattery. 

While Zelda's back was facing you, Link didn't seem to be facing her. He peered over her shoulder, his eyes frozen solid on you.

You stared back at him, not understanding why you felt as if it were hard to breathe.

Suddenly, Zelda grabbed his arm and dragged him along. Both of their silhouettes disappeared as they walked in the direction of the goddess statue. 

Yeah, that's right. Go be with your goddess. 

You found your breath again, if only in a shallow spurt of disappointment. Your eyes seemed to follow them, and your vision had become a third wheel to their intimate party of two. 

The grumbling sound of someone clearing their throat behind you made you snatch your eyes away.

"Y/N." Headmaster Gaepora stood before you. His dark eyes were as unreadable as the many books locked away within his chambers.

"Let's step inside my office." You knew it was a command and not an offer.

Gaepora was a towering display of a man. Truthfully, you didn't quite see a resemblance between Zelda and the headmaster. Besides their penchant for wisdom and higher education, and maybe the thick, scraggly mess of brows that harkened back to when Gaepora was a youth and had a head of hair himself, like Zelda. 

Once inside, he pulled out a chair and, with a polite gesture of his hand, urged you to take a seat. You had decided when you were flying through the middle sky, that you would not let on that you knew of Link and Zelda's duties or bond. You would simply incriminate yourself by telling him of your curiosity and taking responsibility for sneaking out, and Link just happened to be doing his duty and was going to report you.

You weren't sure why you were defending Link. Maybe you felt like you owed him for jumping after you. 

Or maybe it was because of his consecrated sobriquet. 

Either way, you were prepared for your expulsion from the knight program.

What you weren't prepared for was what Gaepora said next.

"I'm going to be concise. I need you to stay away from Link." 

Edited:6/2/24

[psalm22-6]

The Mount Alexander Mail, 18 July 1870

The greater part of the year Victor Hugo stays at Guernsey, allowing himself a brief holiday in the autumn, when he visits Belgium, Switzerland, &c. Regardless of the amnesty, however, his conscience will not permit him to return to his beloved France. "When liberty returns, I will return." Nevertheless he is one of the leading and active members; if not the head, of the revolutionary party in that country. At all seasons, he is up at daylight, and, notwithstanding the accusation of a species of hydrophobia as regards baths, with which we English are wont to taunt our Gallic neighbours, Victor Hugo is a grand exception and example, for "tubbing" is with him an institution; and, long before his neighbours are stirring, Victor Hugo has performed his ablutions by the light of the earliest dawn. From his glass cabinet de travail he can see the sun rise at all seasons of the year. In midsummer, from here the sun appears to rise behind Cape La Hogue; at the equinox, from behind the cliffs of Sark; in the depth of winter from behind Jersey; from, which last island he was shamefully driven out by the unprincipled application of an old Star Chamber law, in 1855. The earlier part of the morning the poet is generally to be seen promenading on the balustraded roof of his house; drinking in long draughts of health from the sea breezes, and inspiration from the immensity of sea and skies around about him. With a red Garibaldi shirt, sometimes concealed under a blue-grey dressing gown, he restlessly marches up and down, apparently in deep thought, every now and then entering his aerial studio to write down his thoughts in those heart stirring words so dear to French readers; at other times he will tear up perhaps some lines not sufficiently forcible or polished, and the pieces of paper, like sibyline leaves, come fluttering into the garden, where my little children run to catch then, calling them butterflies; scraps which many would value as rare autographs. Intensely fond of children, M. Victor Hugo always takes the greatest interest in my little ones at play, one of whom is the same age as his little grandson away at Brussels; and when he sees them playing in the sun without their hats, will always call out to them to put their hats on. It is indeed most remarkable that this energetic, vigorous, and thoughtful poet, of the most powerful intellect in the nineteenth century, is not above composing for them the kindliest and most pathetic nursery and fireside poetry, amongst which we find some of his most graceful masterpieces. Every Monday a large number of poor children — in fact, the poorest which Madame Cheney can find — are provided with a hearty meal. No distinction of creed is thought of in the selection of these children; poverty is the only passport required. Besides this, the children carry off all the remains and scraps to take home with them. Food and fuel are never refused to any one who really cannot afford such necessities of life: whilst similar to Mons. Bienvenu (his beau ideal of what a bishop might and ought to be in "Les Miserables"), although several times things have been stolen and robberies committed at Hauteville House, the benevolent owner never will prosecute, or even attempt to have the depredators sought after. —Gentleman's Magazine.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This pretty 1856 Italianate stick style house in Middletown, Rhode Island is currently an Inn with 10bds & a total of 12ba. It's been remodeled, but not to look like a business. You could move right in as a residence. Anyway, it's priced at $3.295M.

Isn't this an impressive entrance? Nice wainscoting, but the floor is the star here.

The sitting room is stunning. They made it very light and bright. Sometimes, I think that contrasting paint is more stunning than wallpaper.

What a grand dining room, large enough to seat many more guests.

The 2nd sitting room is just as lovely. I like the way they made the fireplace different in this room.

Look at the kitchen- a built-in screen. See what I mean, you don't have to convert anything back- the Inn looks like a house. The kitchen is beautifully redone.

This is so clever. I like how they put a neat little office in there. And, it's in the 2nd fl. hall, so they even made a little waiting area.

There are more than enough baths for each room to have its own. Isn't this nice? It's certainly roomy.

A few of the 10 bedrooms. No problem moving right into any of them.

According to the description, there's an Innkeeper's quarters and a 2nd quarters for a staff member. Maybe at least one of them is up this floor.

It's nice up here in the hall.

This room looks like it could be a staff suite, or something similar.

This aerial picture is the only one they have of the grounds.

[beni75]

Photos and text: @thomaspeschak

1-. A blacktip reef shark navigates a narrow canyon off Aldabra Atoll. Seychelles

2-. Every winter sub-adult whale shark gather in the seas off Djibouti

3-. Hanifaru Bay in the Maldives

4-. I had been watching these seals for years & wanted to photograph them surfing a unique underwater perspective on southern African marine reserves

5-. In Mexico's San Ignacio lagoon a gray whale mother pushes it's young calf to the surface so it can get a better look at the photographer

6-. June-July is sardine run time off South Africa's East Coast. Long-beaked common dolphins are the only predators that hunt cooperatively

7-. Kira is a black labrator that loves swimming with dolphins

8-. Manta rays. Hanifaru Bay in the Maldives

9-. Mantas feeding amongst baifsish. Hanifaru Bay

10-. Reef mantas feeding at Hanifaru Marine Reserve

11-. My fascination with seahorses began more than 10 years ago when I still was a graduate student in marine biology

12-. Not all sharks look like Jaws. An endemic Puffader shy shark hovers above dive guide hand

13-. Sharks, Bohar snapper and other predatory fish are abundant on the fringing coral reefs of the seas around D'Arros Island and St. Joseph Atoll, Seychelles

14-. Long beaked common dolphin hunting sardines off South Africa's Wild Coast

15-. South African free diver @hanlinprinsloo diving with blacktip sharks in the Aliwal Shoal Marine Protected Area

16-. y 17-. South Africa's Table Mountain Marine Protected Area host a unique sevengil shark aggregation site wich draws divers from all over the world

18-. South Africa's Wild Coast is a mosaic of river mouths, grassy hillsides and formidable sea cliffs

19-. Aerial perspective of the sanctuary zone of the Ponta do Ouro Marine Reserve, Mozambique

20-. Steller's sea lions ar common off Canada's British Colomia coast where populations of their preferred prey such a sand lance and herring are still relatively abundant

21-. Sunflower sea stars are the largest shallow water starfish in the world

22-. The broadnosed sevengill shark is a top predator in South Africa's kelp forests. With saw shaped teeth akin to tiger sharks, they hunt fish and scavenge dead fur seals

23-. The seas around Aldabra atoll are some of the most pristine in the Seychelles and the entire western Indian Ocean

24-. The tail belongs to one of the top predators in South Africa's kelp forest

25-. This green turtle traverses the unbelievably blue waters of Europa Atoll in search of a mate

26-. To survive in the vastness of the open ocean, Silky sharks rely on their boldness and curiosity to investigate every opportunity that might yield a meal

27-. y 28-. This pod of Indo-Pacific Bottlenose dolphins regularly crosses from Mozambican into South African waters

[shake-your-money-maker]

On this date in 1991, "Point Break" was released.

Development of "Point Break" began in 1986, when W. Peter Iliff wrote an initial treatment for the film. Matthew Broderick, Johnny Depp, Val Kilmer, and Charlie Sheen all being considered to play the Johnny Utah character, with Ridley Scott directing. However production fell through. Four years later, after acquiring the screenplay, the producers of "Point Break," Peter Abrams and Robert L. Levy, began looking for a director. At the time, executive producer James Cameron was married to director Kathryn Bigelow, who had just completed "Blue Steel" and was looking for her next project. Only Iliff is credited for the screenplay, but Cameron has said that he did a considerable amount of writing with Bigelow for the final film, helping to establish a better plot flow.

"Point Break" was originally called "Johnny Utah" when Keanu Reeves was cast in the title role. Reeves liked the name of his character, as it reminded him of star athletes like Johnny Unitas and Joe Montana. He described his character as "a total control freak and the ocean beats him up and challenges him. After a while, everything becomes a game. He becomes as amoral as any criminal. He loses the difference between right and wrong."

The studio, however, felt that "Johnny Utah" as a title said very little about surfing and by the time Patrick Swayze was cast, the film had been renamed "Riders on the Storm" after the famous song by The Doors. However, Jim Morrison's lyrics had nothing to do with the film and so that title was also rejected. It was not until halfway through filming that "Point Break" became the film's title because of its relevance to surfing.

Two months before filming, Lori Petty, Reeves and Swayze trained with former world-class professional surfer Dennis Jarvis on the Hawaiian island of Kauai. Jarvis remembers, "Patrick said he'd been on a board a couple of times, Keanu definitely had not surfed before, and Lori had never been in the ocean in her life." Shooting the surfing sequences proved to be challenging for all three actors, with Swayze cracking four of his ribs. For many of the surfing scenes, he refused to use a stunt double as he never had one for fight scenes or car chases. He also did the skydiving scenes himself and the film's aerial jump instructor Jim Wallace found that he was a natural and took to it right away. Swayze ended up making 55 jumps for the film.

Swayze actually based aspects of his character after one of his stunt doubles, Darrick Doerner, a top big wave surfer. After learning to surf for the film, Reeves took a liking to it and took it up as a hobby.

[karaloza]

Legend of Zelda Theme Park - Skyward Realm (UPDATED)

The Skyward Realm was a later addition to my theme park concept (much like how fully explorable airborne environments didn’t become a thing until relatively recently in the franchise). It obviously draws inspiration from Skyward Sword and the sky islands of Tears of the Kingdom, but you can also meet the Rito here, and elements from a few of the LoZ series’ sky-themed dungeons are used for flavor.

Strikingly, the area is built to a much higher elevation than the rest of the park–it sits atop a structure as much as 100 feet tall (which doubles as a show building for a few rides). The edges of the structure are covered in artificial clouds to emphasize the “skyborne” nature of the area, and the buildings are decorated with colorful pinwheels and flags to catch the breeze. (Some of the larger ones are marked on the map with asterisks.) Only a small strip of the area’s footprint is at ground level, to contain the entrances and/or exits of the escalators, elevators, and rides that make the Skyward Realm accessible. A peaceful music loop of tunes associated with aerial environments, the Rito, and flight scenarios plays throughout the area.

Attractions

Ancient Cannon: The queue and loading area for this ride are actually at ground level, because the point is to be a more exciting means of traveling to the Skyward Realm. A powerful magnetic launch sends guests shooting up a steep slope to the upper level, where they disembark; the car then reverses gently down the track for the next bunch.

Sailcloth Plunge: By the same token, those looking to return to ground level might take this ride, a simple parachute drop.

Flight Range: One of the most technologically sophisticated rides in the park, this one combines arm-mounted vehicles with 3D screen effects and “virtual” bows and arrows so guests can test their archery skills at Revali’s own target-shooting range!

Landing Platform: A meet-and-greet for Rito characters (Revali, Kass, Medli, Tulin), who actually “soar” in from a nearby tower (via zipline) when they’re ready for the guests!

Wing Ceremony: Echoing Universal’s Dueling Dragons, this relatively gentle suspended coaster features two interweaving tracks and red and blue cars with a Loftwing motif.The track actually extends over the edge of the Skyward Realm for a sensation of true flight!

Astral Observatory: Officially the highest point in Hyrule, this mysterious tower contains many beautiful star charts, astronomical instruments, and other details to peruse while enjoying a mystical music playlist and waiting your turn to peer through one of the telescopes for an unparalleled (and AR-enhanced) view of the kingdom.

Eagus’s Sword Academy: Kids 12 and under receive foam swords and instruction in a variety of sword moves from none other than Eagus, the swordmaster of the Skyloft Knights Academy! Up to four “lessons” (shows) a day.

Shops

8. Oocca Pod Shop: Named for the odd little shop in the City in the Sky in Twilight Princess, this shop offers a variety of kites, gliders, and other airborne toys (but please don’t throw them off the edge of the Realm).

9. Brazen Beak Plumage Boutique: Named after the Rito Village clothing store in Breath of the Wild and providing much the same function here—souvenir clothing and feathered accessories such as headbands, hair clips, cockades, and costume wings.

Eateries

10. The Lumpy Pumpkin: Based on the inn of the same name from Skyward Sword, this buffet restaurant serves home-style food with pumpkin specialties.

11. Light Lunches: Heavy meals won't do for flying creatures, so this counter service restaurant offers a variety of prepackaged salads, fruit bowls, flaky pastries, and fluffy mousse desserts, for adventurers who don't want to be weighed down.

12. Luv & Bertie's Enhanced Elixirs: Another beverage location in the vein of the Potion Hut, this one themed to the potion-making couple from Skyward Sword.

Miscellaneous

Like Epona Ranch, the Skyward Realm has no Spirit Train station of its own. It is readily accessed from the one attached to Zora’s Domain (pictured, but not labeled).

The three pearl-like icons indicate the locations of Zonai Device Dispensers as described in this post.

[jgmartin]

THE ISLAND

Last month, my team responded to a SOS in the southern Pacific. When we arrived, we were unable to locate any of the stricken individuals. All we found were two curious items in a local cave system: a journal and an audio recorder, both of which owned by an archaeologist named Albert Vess.

The contents of the journal are disturbing, but perhaps worse still is the audio.

Since reading the journal and listening to the audio I’ve been feeling strange. Unwell. My mind feels like mush and my moods have been erratic. No medication has helped. My doctor thinks I just need some rest but I’m not sure. It’s… hard to describe?

I don’t know why, but I feel like the island has something to do with it. I feel like the journal does. I’ve transcribed it below, but be warned.

It’s an uncomfortable read.

_____________________

06/01/21

The valley is steep.

For an island in the middle of the Pacific, it feels almost unnatural. Certainly uncommon. I’ve done plenty of these expeditions and I’ve rarely encountered geography such as this. The shoreline is sparse, thin. It gives way to a scatter of trees and a sharp drop-off into a hollow of palms and brush. It’s incredible. Claustrophobic.

It’s where we’re going. All four of us.

Bernard, the research lead. Darian, the cave spelunker. And Allison, one of the most accomplished archaeologists I've ever met.

And of course, myself.

My stomach is still upside down, recovering from the sail it took to get here, but the worst is over. Once we finish our survey of the ruin below, we can set up camp and get some shut-eye. It’s not so bad, really. And we’re so very close.

This, I think, could be the discovery of a lifetime.

_____________________

The sun is setting in the sky.

When we looked down into the valley this afternoon, we never anticipated it’d be this slow-going, or that the canopy of leaves would be this blinding. Alison recommends we make camp and get some rest. She says the ruin will be there to excavate in the morning, and we’ll be better off with more daylight to spare.

Bernard disagrees. He says we’ve got lanterns and rations, and that the scene survey won’t take that long. Besides, he’s not planning on doing any excavating until he knows the ruins are actually there.

His remark catches us off guard. I remind him that there are already aerial photos of the ruin. That there’s no need to prove it’s actually there because we can see that it is.

It takes Bernard a minute to answer, and when he does, he admits the aerial photos of the ruins were doctored. He admits that the research he submitted to secure this grant was false.

“All I have,” he says, “is what’s written in here.”

He shows us a leather-bound book with yellowed pages. It belonged to his ancestor apparently, a merchant captain who was shipwrecked on this island over a century ago. According to the journal, there really are ruins— but the thing is, they’re underground. You’d never know they were there if you weren’t looking for them and it’s why nobody’s discovered them before.

I can hardly believe it. I want to be furious at him, but Alison is angry enough for the both of us. She’s fuming. Darian doesn’t seem to mind terribly, maybe because it’s her first expedition and she still has stars in her eyes.

“Trust me,” Bernard says. “This will be the discovery of our lives.”

I suppose we don’t really have a choice. The boat that dropped us off won’t be returning for another week. For better or worse, I and everybody else are stuck on this little spit of land.

_____________________

Alison heads into the trees to pee and when she comes back, she’s a nervous wreck. Her shoulders are quaking. Her voice is uneven. “I heard footsteps out there,” she says. “Footsteps and laughter, out there in the jungle.”

I remind her that there’s nobody out there. That this island is as empty as it’s ever been.

“Then who’s laughing at me?” she snaps. “The trees?”

_____________________

The jungle ends in moonlight.

It opens to a clearing, a dusty expanse of stone boulders and saplings. We made it to the bottom of the valley, to the site of the supposed underground ruins. Bernard tells us there should be an opening somewhere. A hole. It might be tiny, or it might be large enough to fall into if you aren’t careful.

The four of us split off, flashlights in tow. Alison in one direction— scowling, and Darian in another — beaming. She’s young enough that I hope we really do find something, otherwise this might just sour her opinion on archaeology for good.

Before I can step off, Bernard stops me. He asks me if I can hear that.

“Hear what?” I ask.

The laughter, he says.

_____________________

It’s not forty paces away that something catches my eye.

It’s small. Difficult to make out in the dark— even with the light of my lantern and the moon above, but it’s there. It’s making my skin crawl. Between two squat boulders is a circle of small stones arranged in a spiral. They frame a recess into the earth that’s filled with decaying wood, charred black by the heat of flames. A firepit.

I gaze at it, stunned. This island should be deserted. As my mind churns, I spot something sticking out of the dirt and the ash. It’s broken. Crumbling. It looks like mother nature has had it’s way with it, but it’s unnatural enough to stick out to me. It isn’t wood. It isn’t stone.

It’s... strange.

I bend low, digging into the mess, hoping the debris above has managed to preserve what lay beneath. A moment later, and I know that it has. My hands pull something free, something that’s decomposed into three pieces. Something familiar.

A fractured human skull.

_____________________

It’s odd, but I stare at the skull for a long while. There’s something about it that I can’t quite put my finger on, but it’s fascinating to me. I feel almost entranced by it.

Before I can properly process my find, I hear screaming. Shouting. I hear Bernard, Alison, and Darian all calling my name. They’re shrieking for me into the night, telling me the good news.

They’ve found the ruin.

_____________________

When I reach them, they surround a hole in the earth the size of a basketball. Bernard’s lantern is sitting next to it. He’s explaining in an excited tone how he nearly fell into the damn thing. He’s explaining how he knew it would be here, about how he never once had any doubt.

I’m trying to tell him— them — about the firepit. I’m trying to tell them about the human skull split into three pieces.

“What does it matter,” Darian asks, “if somebody died here? That was probably a hundred years ago.” She’s already getting herself ready for her first big find. She’s tying a length of rope to a nearby boulder to serve as an anchor point. Bernard’s strapping a headlamp to her helmet.

What it matters, I say, is that human skulls don’t generally burn themselves on deserted islands. What it matters is that whoever burned that skull was doing it very much on purpose, and there are very few reasons that would ever be okay.

Bernard sides with Darian but tells me that I’m probably right, that whoever burned that skull was up to no good, but what do I expect the four of us to do about it? It’s ancient history.

Before I can argue my point, Alison calls us over. She’s on her belly at the entrance of the hole, with her flashlight angled down trying to get a look inside the ruin. She tells us she thinks she saw something move down there.

Darian reasons that it’s probably just water bouncing the light around, making shadows. She says she sees it all the time while spelunking. Underground lakes. I figure she’s probably right about that. In a valley like this, it’ll be a small miracle if these ruins aren’t already flooded.

Still, the skull looms in the back of my mind. It unnerves me.

_____________________

Darian rigs the rope to her carabiner and slips her legs into the hole. A moment later, and she shimmies the rest of her body through the opening until the white of her helmet disappears beneath the earth.

As she lowers herself down into the ruins, Bernard asks her for details about what she’s seeing. For the first while, she says it’s just a long, tight drop. Nothing to see. Just stone pressing against her on all sides.

Then she says it’s opening up into a cavern. She says she’s inside of them now— the ruins. Or rather, a cave system. “I don’t see any ruins,” she tells us. “All I see are…”

Her voice trails off. It sounds… concerned.

“There’s writing down here,” she says. “Lots of writing, all over the cave walls. It looks like it was scratched into the stone.”

Bernard looks ecstatic. He asks her what language it's in, and whether or not she can read it.

She responds by saying that yes, she can read it. It’s.... English numerals, she says. There are numbers all over the cave.

A pause. Two breaths. Her voice echoes out of the dark hole. “Are these dates?”

Nobody gets a chance to ask her about the dates, or exactly how many there are, because our attention is stolen. In the distance, from deep within the jungle, we hear the low sound of footsteps. Heavy, desperate footsteps.

Footsteps that are coming our way.

_____________________

I call into the hole, ordering Darian to get out. I tell her something— somebody is coming. My heart is beating through my chest, my mind replaying images of the scorched skull. It feels insane. Absurd. There’s nobody on this island. We know that. We have the records, and yet…

I feel that something is very wrong.

Alison holds our only weapon— a brush-whacking machete, and she’s shrieking at Bernard, demanding whether he forgot to mention the existence of cannibal tribes on the island. Bernard’s too shell-shocked to speak. I holler at him to help me heave on the rope, to bring Darian up faster. Thankfully, he does.

It’s exhausting, but we manage to pull her up to the top of the hole, just far enough to see the white of her helmet and her terrified features. She tells us that she’s stuck. That she can’t move any further.

I hear the footfalls nearing. So close. Whatever’s coming is running now, and the sound is like thunder in my ears. I watch as Bernard works at freeing Darian from the opening, and I realize it’s taking too long. Much too long. I drop the line and rush over to help, pressing my hands against Darian’s shoulders.

Then, all at once, the footfalls stop.

They stop just outside the perimeter of the clearing. For a moment, the night is silent. None of us so much as steal a breath as we listen for whatever is out there. Whatever is coming for us.

Alison suggests that our shouting may have scared it off. It’s a comforting thought. That it might have been a large species of boar, charging through the jungle, or perhaps an earthquake. Bernard agrees. He adds that we’re all running low on sleep and very on edge, and that Alison was right— we should have just made camp and gotten some rest.

Then Darian screams, and her body slips, ribs snapping as she disappears back into the darkness of the ruin. A split second later, there’s a grotesque cracking sound and the screaming stops. It’s the sound of Darian’s body striking the cavern floor.

It is, I think, the sound of Darian dying.

_____________________

Something goes through us then. Alison. Bernard. Myself. Something goes through us like a bullet, shutting us up as we wait, desperate to hear Darian call out and say she’s okay. That she’s just a little bruised up.

I call out to her. Desperate. Horrified.

Alison appears at my side and hushes me with a finger. She glares at me, narrowing her eyes at me like all of this— this entire disaster is somehow my fault. Then she lowers herself onto her hands and knees, machete by her side, ear toward the hole.

She asks us if we can hear that. She tells us to listen.

Bernard and I press ourselves closer to the opening. We strain our ears. There’s a scraping sound coming from inside. A low, sustained sound like something being slid across stone.

“There’s something down there,” Alison says. “I knew there was something down there and I told you, Bernard! I fucking warned you!” She erupts, lunging at Bernard like a maelstrom, scratching, punching— hurting him as much as she can. He curls up, but he doesn’t try to fight back. He doesn’t try to flee.

He sits there trembling. He sits there trembling, I think, because he hears the same thing that Alison and I do, down there in the cavern.

He hears the sound of Darian’s body being dragged away.

_____________________

We put it to a vote.

Out of the three of us, only Bernard wants to go back down into the hole looking for Darian. Only Bernard wants to face the nightmare he dragged us into. Alison and I, we have no idea what we’re dealing with. Bernard’s convinced that it’s an animal. A family of bears perhaps that are using the cavern as a sort of den. There’s no other alternative, he says.

What I don’t say, is that there’s always an alternative. In this case, the alternative is we’re not alone on this island. In this case, the alternative is that whatever’s out there doesn’t want to be found.

_____________________

The hike back up to our base camp is long, and by the time we arrive it’s raining and half-past noon. A wall of dark-gray descends toward us from across the ocean. Storm clouds. Lightning flashes on the horizon, followed by rolling cracks of thunder.

The sea laps and churns.

All any of us want to do is go to sleep, to rest and process our grief over losing Darian, but we have work to do. Bernard fires up the HF amplifier and attempts to contact rescue services. Static greets him over the receiver. He tells us he doesn’t think it’s working. He tells us the radio is fucked.

Alison tries her hand at it, and thank god she does because she gets the thing running again. Over the other end, like the voice of an angel, we hear the operator crackle out of the speaker.

“Everything alright out there, folks?”

“No,” we say, in near-perfect unison.

God no.

_____________________

The conversation doesn’t go as planned.

According to the operator, it could be hours or even days before we’re picked up. The stormfront in our area is a bad one, they explain, and it’s likely to impede any rescue efforts. Local authorities aren’t keen on risking their lives for tourists. At the moment, they’re attempting to contact military vessels nearby for a potential extraction but we shouldn’t count on that.

Their advice? Hunker down. Batten the hatches. Stay safe. Avoid becoming separated.

What if there’s somebody out there, Alison asks them, trying to fucking kill us?

Didn’t you say you had a machete? they ask.

Feel free to use it.

_____________________

The night passes for me as a string of nightmares. I toss and turn for much of it. It’s not clear why, but my stomach is in knots. I feel ill. Nauseous and unwell.

I wonder if it’s the rations I ate. Maybe Bernard didn’t prepare them properly? Maybe they’d gone bad? It doesn’t matter. My body and mind are exhausted enough that the pain in my stomach is an afterthought.

_____________________

I awake to silhouettes arguing. Alison and Bernard. My head feels like I just drank a bottle of whisky and hit it with a hammer. My mouth is dry. I’m sweating and shivering at the same time. Do I have a fever? Pieces of their argument reach my ears. They’re not far from me, but they sound so distant. So faint.

—- killed her.

Give me a break, Alison! Darian’s a grown woman who made her own choices. You think we knew she’d slip?

She didn’t slip. You know damn well.

I stumble from the tent, and warm, tropical rain is pouring overhead. Wind whistles painfully in my ears. Alison and Bernard are standing beneath the awning nearby, looking at me but their faces are a blur. I can’t make out their expressions.

“What are you doing up?” Alison asks. “Eavesdropping?” She’s holding the machete— pointing it at me.

Hands grab me by my arm, roughly. “Go to sleep,” Bernard orders. He guides me back into the tent. Back into my sleeping bag. “You’re not well. Tomorrow the storm breaks, and the rescue team should arrive.”

I mumble a response, but my words are slurred. Barely there.

It’s okay, he says

Nothing about this is okay.

_____________________

I spend the night in and out of sleep, my mind swimming. My body feels feverish, alternating between flashes of panting heat and frigid chills. My dreams are of Alison.

In them, she’s calling out to me. Begging me for help. She’s trapped inside a pit filled with snakes, covered head to toe in red and blue serpents. They’re slithering about her and I’m holding her machete and chopping at them, trying to save her.

Please, she says. Please.

_____________________

The next morning my head is pounding. There’s an awful pressure near my temples, like my brain is expanding outward and trying to split my skull in three. I need water. I need aspirin.

Why is it so quiet?

I open my eyes to an empty tent. Strangely, there’s no sign of Allison or Bernard. It’s just me and… the remains of our HF radio. Red and blue wires lay strewn about the floor like electrical snakes. Its faceplate is split in two, the circuit board with it.

What happened?

Wandering outside, I find the storm has cleared. A sprinkle of rain is all that’s left.

Did the rescue team already arrive? Perhaps Alison and Bernard have taken them down to the ruins to search for Darian.

_____________________

I abandon the tent and take to the shoreline, calling out their names. It’s a short while later that Bernard finds me, emerging from the jungle looking disheveled. Manic. His eyes are wild, framed with heavy bags, and in his hand is Alison’s machete. It’s flecked in crimson.

CantfindAllison

His voice is stuttering, moving too fast for his lips.

Shesgone

I tell him to slow down. My head is in rough shape, and it’s difficult to follow what he’s saying. Bernard, I ask, is there blood on that machete? He shakes his head. He tells me to go back to the tent— to lie down. He says he’ll keep looking for her. He says she has to be around here somewhere. She has to.

As he stalks off, I think I hear him mumble a prayer, but I’m so very tired.

_____________________

My dreams are once more of Alison. Of Darian. This time, they’re beckoning me to return to the ruin. They’re weeping that Bernard has done this to us— that he’s lost his mind. They’re saying that he’s trying to kill us off so that the discovery can be his, and his alone.

He pushed me into the hole, Darian whimpers.

He drowned me on the beach, Allison cries.

He’s drugging you, they say in unison. Don’t trust him. Don’t follow him. Go back to the ruins and you’ll see the truth. Do it before he cuts you into little pieces and eats you, burns your skull and splits it in three.

I open my eyes, and Bernard is fast asleep. The machete is tucked securely in his arms. As quietly as I can, I leave the tent and make for the ruins.

_____________________

It’s part way through the jungle that the footsteps sound behind me.

They’re pounding the dirt, moving through the brush like a hurricane. Is it Bernard? I can’t tell. My head is aching and my body is exhausted, but despite it all I press forward at a sprint. I press forward toward the valley below. Toward the ruins.

I hear laughter in the jungle. Manic, maddening, laughter. It’s following me, closing in. Whatever is happening on this island, I realize, begins and ends with those ruins.

I must reach them.

_____________________

It’s a small relief to see the rope still anchored to the stone.

I quickly toss Darian’s line into the entrance of the cavern and squeeze myself through the opening. My palms burn, splitting open in warm blood as they halt my descent. Before I can make it to the bottom, something snaps from above and my rope gives way.

I fall a short and painful distance, with the rest of my rope tumbling down around me. Looking up, I expect to see Bernard standing at the small, moonlit entrance. Instead it’s just empty sky.

Bernard? I shout.

There’s no response.

Flicking on my headlamp, I take a look around the cavern. The light reveals a tight cave structure, one splitting off into three separate tunnels. And carved into the walls, just like Darian said, are numerals. Dates.

What’s odd though— what’s borderline impossible, is the date the numerals list.

10-20-1972.

My birthday. It’s everywhere.

_____________________

I’m alone down here.

There’s no sign of Darian. There’s no sign of Bernard. The cavern is empty, echoing and feels endless. I’ve made small attempts to scout the three tunnels, but each presents its own share of impassable obstacles— whether growing too tight to traverse, dropping off into abyssal black water, or twisting steeply upward.

I’ve chosen instead to remain beneath the entrance to the ruins. It is my hope I can shout, and gain the attention of the rescue team when they arrive. Until then, I take this time to update my journal.

I’ve filled in the entries of my flight from the tent, of my return to the ruins. I’ve filled in other details as best I can while their memory is still fresh in my mind, because even now I feel my stomach roll with hunger and my mouth thirsty for water. I feel myself slipping. These details may prove important to me at a later date. I just need to hang on and hope that somebody will come.

But I’m so thirsty. So thirsty. Perhaps just a sip from the lake? Only a taste.

Just to wet my lips.

_____________________

I am… unwell. I feel broken? Aching. All over. I’m aching in my mind, and it hurts. So so much. It hurts. There are sounds around me. Sounds in the cave. I’ve recorded them ti stdy later but it is so difficult to think. So difcult to write.

Ar they talkin to me??

_____________________

The sounds are so close. CLOSE. They’re surrounding me frm every crnr of the caVern now and memories are playin in my head like VIDEOS or m,ovies. Ow. I don’t feel good I feel really really bad. I see… I see my hands pushing Darian into the hole, down into the RUIns oh god I see her eyes as she falls LOOKINGAT ME

ImsorryImsorryImsorry

HAD TO

The radio it was just so LOUD and the rescue team would come so fast that I had to call it off. I had to tell them we were JUST PEACHY and that there was no need to rush because DARIAN SHOWED UP RIGHT AS RAIN!!! Of corse I needed to destroy the radio. snapped the faceplate on my KNEE

I HAD TO. whatif Alison called them back and told them I was FIBBING?

Alison, Alison. Always with her MACHETE she never let the amn thing go. What the ffuck was it, her child? I needed to wait forever for her to step off into the jungle for a potty break but once she did I GUTTED HER cause she was gonna ruin it all i SWEAR scouts honor she knew something was uppppp with me

BERnard oh bernie bernie beRNIe you knew the journal was TROUBLE ya knw it was NO good and ya brought us anyway becbuase yu wanted ANSWERS for the dreams you were havin since ya read the thing but dont worrydontworrydontworry

people are soeasy to strngle when there sleeping

Oh LORD! The voices… The SKULL. It told me IT NEEDED THEM. it needed us all down here and wewere so close to beingpart of this beautiful place but NOBODY wanted to come and DARIAN didnt land on her feet so now ITS JUST ME

Its just me

_____________________

Soon though, it’ll be me and you.

_____________________

Mine.

That’s it… That’s the final entry.

Note that for Albert’s less lucid entries I attempted to transcribe them as accurately as I could from his writing. The bizarre capitalizations, the sudden misspellings. All of it is authentic to his journal, if that helps at all.

Without access to the remains of any of the individuals, it’s difficult to say if Albert was simply losing his mind or really did end the lives of his entire team. The part about him cancelling the SOS signal, however, is accurate. Somebody sent out a call indicating that Darian had reunited with the group and was not seriously injured— and that rescue at that time was no longer needed.

We arrived three days later, shortly after their transportation returned to recover them and found their tent cut into pieces, equipment destroyed, and no sign of any members of the expedition. At that point a search team scoured the island. I was the one who located the cave system, entered it, and recovered Albert Vess’ journal and audio recorder— though there was no trace of him, body or otherwise.

In addition, I visually sighted the writing on the cavern walls. The weird thing is that it doesn’t match up to what was recorded in Mr. Vess’ journal. The numerals I saw were different. The date they listed wasn’t 10-20-1972, but instead 04-04-1991.

Not his birthday.

[kaysfanficcorner]

Out of This World Chapter 8:

Island in the Suns

Author’s Note: The bitch is back! My life’s been a little topsy turvy as of late so this chapter took me way longer to finish than originally anticipated. My schedule is about to change, but worry not as I fully intend to ride this story out until the ending I have planned out. Also, I may start doing little one shots set in this universe. So keep an eye out for those! As I said before, this story is going to be spicy from chapter 7 forward so be prepared!

Mando’a phrases:

Ad’ika - little one Aliit - Family Jate Ca - Goodnight Jate Vaar’tur - Good morning Yooba solus mesh’la, ner cyare - You are beautiful, my beloved

Summary: The relationship between the Mandalorian and the Earthling blossoms as they make their way to Tatooine in search of the mysterious Mandalorian last seen in Mos Pelgo. Once on the infamous desert planet, the plot thickens.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Female Earthling Reader/oc

Warnings: Cursing, FLUFF! SMUT! 🌶️ If you are under the age of 18, you are prohibited from this work of fiction.

Music Inspiration:

Island in the Sun - Not really an inspiration aside from the chapter title, but this song just makes me think of Tatooine

Aerials - Mentioned in the chapter thanks to a conversation with @missbabyjay

AO3

Art at the end of the chapter by my love, Justin Wood

*****

Din Djarin is seated alone in the pilot’s seat of the Razor Crest, setting a course for a nearby star port to refuel again as he gazes upon on the vast star field before him. Because of your presence aboard his ship and the childlike wonder with which you still treat life in space after all these months, Din has gained a newfound appreciation for the beauty this galaxy has to offer. Every so often, Din now takes a moment to stop and admire his surroundings rather than go about his business without paying it much mind. Among all of things you’ve brought to his life and the ways you’ve changed him for the better, that is surely one of his favorites.

Gor Koresh had practically been on the other side of the galaxy from Tatooine, so the planet of sand and sun is still nearly two weeks away, even with the speed of hyperspace aiding in the Razor Crest’s travels. It’s been six days since the fight in Koresh’s arena, and since he’d consummated his romantic connection to you. In those six days, the parameters of the relationship have changed dramatically. 

There’s no longer any need to pretend that this isn’t a real thing anymore. Neither of you is concerned with timid behavior or caution in the way you address one another as both companions and lovers. Din feels proud to have you openly be by his side in that way, and you seem to be over the moon with the fact. The kid also seems to be on board with this, acting happier than usual around the two adults in charge of his care. You take the concept of belonging to one another very passionately, which Din admires a great deal. Loyalty is the most attractive attribute to a Mandalorian such as him. 

As your daily training continues on, Din is aware that the reverence you display for his lessons has increased exponentially. He hasn’t caught you daydreaming about something in the middle of an explanation once, which is something he used to catch you doing all the time. It never really used to bother him before, but the increased displays of character mean a lot to him. Because of this you’re also improving, and that in it of itself fills Din with so much pride for you. Keeping up while lightly sparring with him is something you hadn’t been able to do up to this point, and now you seem to hold your own against him quite well. Din still has much to teach you, but your progress is undeniable.

Seeing how seriously you take the act of learning about his culture, Din has decided to take equal steps in learning about yours. He’s been asking you to teach him more things about Earth, and he’s taken to using your personal device more often.

You dote on him even more now, treating him with the utmost affection as you constantly offer to do little things for him. Usually he declines your offers, all except for one. You like to bring him a mid day caf without being prompted almost daily, and he’s come to look forward to the ritual of it. Sitting in the pilot seat at the correct time (even if he has nothing ship related to do), hearing the cockpit door swish open, feeling your hand rest upon his shoulder, the cup of caf coming into view as you lower it in front of him, and finally, the kiss you place upon his beskar covered head. It’s the same each day, and you always whisper something sweet about him before you continue on with whatever it is you’re up to. Nothing makes him feel more loved. He’s been on his own for most of his life, and not a single person has ever wanted to take care of him in the way that you do. 

Then there’s the matter of sex. 

Din physically cannot get enough of you, just as you cannot seem to get enough of him. The two of you have stayed up well past the child each night, spending a few hours together up in the cockpit enjoying each others bodies. As soon as the child is tucked away in the cot, Din is practically tearing the clothes from your body and the helmet from his head, ready to feel your walls clench around him and taste you on his lips once more. As the days go on he starts to slowly learn what makes you tick, and vice versa. Getting to know your sexuality quite intimately is something Din has begun to treasure. Aside from Xi’an, which was only a few times, this is the most he’s ever had sex with one person. The most he’s ever gotten to know another’s body so intimately, and vice versa. 

On the second night, you’d been the one to put the child to bed and Din had used the opportunity to strip down to just his helmet. The way you reacted to his naked form waiting in the pilot seat, legs spread with your blindfold already in his hands, is a reaction he’ll cherish for many years to come. 

On the third, it had been you who stripped down to nothing and waited in the pilot seat with your legs spread. One hand playing idly with one of your nipples while the other slid two fingers into your slick entrance, you’d made desperate little noises and begged him to take care of you. Hyperspace whirling behind you, it had truly been a sight to behold.

The theme of the fourth night had been exploration, when you’d grabbed his hand and brought it to your throat before begging him to choke you a little bit. Din was amazed by the reaction it caused in you, eyes rolling back in your head as your muscles clamped around him in mini bursts of intense pleasure. He’d been a little worried at first, but you seemed to adore the feeling of your air supply being partially cut off as he thrust into you at full force. The strangled noises you made had been indication enough, let alone how much you’d soaked him. Your entire body convulsed and twitched until he could tell you’d had enough and gently pulled his hand away. Then in a moment wanting to fulfill his own sexual fantasies, he’d grabbed the cuffs from his utility belt and asked for your permission to use them on you. With a gorgeously deviant smile playing at your lips, you’d agreed to this and Din could tell that he’d uncovered a similar dark desire within you.

The fifth night had been more loving and soft than the rough neediness of the night before. Both participants seemed to be in the mood to treat each other’s bodies with delicacy, gently bringing pleasure through the act of admiring one another. Dirty talk on that night sounded more like showers of doting compliments rather than lewd remarks and lustful demands. You’d declared to him in basic that you loved him so sincerely while at the peak of an orgasm, that Din know’s he’d been blushing. Heat in his cheeks and fluttering in his belly were unmistakable.

After you’ve had more than enough of each other, the two of you will retreat down to what Din now considers to be your shared bed. Cramped as it may be, there is no “taking turns” in the cot anymore. The two of you have slept in it together every night. The kid almost always makes his way down from his hammock to snuggle with the two of you. As much as it still scares him to admit it, the three of you truly do feel like a family. 

The only real problem with this current schedule, is that neither adult has been getting enough sleep. You in particular do not seem to be handling the lack of rest well, having looked so worn out during caf this morning that Din feels as if perhaps tonight a break will be in order. It would probably do the both of you better to just get a good night of sleep.

Din suddenly hears the familiar little sound of his foundling saying something that sounds like  “patu” from behind him, and he swivels the pilot’s seat fully expecting to see you standing there with the child in your arms. His gaze is pointed upwards, so when he doesn’t see you at all he tilts his head down to see that the child is standing in the center of the cockpit all alone. 

“Hey ad’ika, you okay? Did you climb up here all by yourself?”

The kid looks both unsettled and unwell, which raises the alarms in Din’s head. A small green hand reaches back to point to the door he just came in from and he makes another little “patu” sound. 

“Show me what’s wrong, buddy,” Din says as he rises from the chair, scooping the kid up in his arms.

Making his way down to the deck below the cockpit, Din can hear the unmistakable sound of your voice as it groans in pain. Tucked in his arm, the kid looks up at Din with worry in his dark eyes as he points again. This time he points to the fresher. 

Din’s eyes flick to that direction, where he finds you laying on the floor beside the toilet. Your eyes are open and you’re holding your stomach as you curl up on your side, face scrunched in discomfort.

Din puts the kid on a crate and comes to kneel beside you. “Cyar’ika? What’s wrong?”

“Sick,” you grumble out, face contorting as if struck by a sharp pain.

“Sick how?” 

“Fever, and I just threw up breakfast.”

“Shit,” Din curses, ripping a glove off and moving to place his hand on your damp forehead. Your skin is on fire. “When did this start?”

Struggling, you prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him. “When we woke up. My head was pounding and something didn’t feel right.” 

“Sounds like a stomach flu of some variety,” Din says matter of factly. You look at him with a shocked expression before laughing, and under the helmet his brow raises in surprise. “Why’s that funny?”

“I just figured you’d have a cooler name for it here. Ugh,” you stop to groan again, clutching at your belly, “I feel like ass.” 

“I’m sure you do.” Din chuckles a little when you glare at him, “What? I’m just acknowledging your pain.” 

“Make it go away,” you plead miserably. 

He feels truly bad for you, brushing the hair from your eyes as he cups your cheek. “I can give you bacta pills, but I’m worried you won’t be able to keep them down.”

“Yeah I don’t know if I can keep anything down right now.” 

Just as you say this, the kid makes a pained little noise from where Din left him, and the Mandalorian turns his head just in time to watch the kid vomit a sickly orange color all over the floor. He looks up at Din with weary eyes, wobbling until he falls back on his little bottom. Then he starts to cry.  

“Shit,” Din curses again, “If both of you have this it’s probably contagious.” 

“Go comfort him,” you say, “I’ll be okay for a moment.”

So Din moves over to the wailing green child, scooping him up to cradle him over the beskar chest plate. “Shh,” he soothes, “I’m here buddy. I know it hurts, but I’m here and I’ll take good care of you.” 

The child then looks up into Din’s hidden eyes and lets out a little sob before clinging to his foster father’s shoulder as hard as he possibly can. A fatherly feeling of warmth washes over Din Djarin, and his overwhelmed heart encapsulates this child so completely that his brown eyes fill with tears behind the beskar. Seeing his foundling like this, sickly and in pain, is heart wrenching.

And so Din makes quick work of making up what is essentially a sick room on the first floor of the ship. He gets a small bucket and sets it up for the kid to throw up in, then he sets up a comfortable little space for the two of you to lay together on the floor. Not wanting to risk either of you getting sick in the cot, he figures that the floor is probably the best option for now.

Once the two of you are as comfortable as you can be, he gets each of you water and insists that once the liquid can be kept down for a half hour he’ll give out doses of bacta pills. After treatment is given, the symptoms will be gone in two hours and the illness itself should completely go away within a twelve hour period.

At first you can’t even keep a sip of water down for longer than two minutes, rushing for the fresher as soon as the bile in your throat rises once again. Din rubs small circles into your back as you dry heave and cry. The kid can’t keep it down either, so Din spends a good part of his day rushing back and forth between the two of you as you each take turns vomiting up the minuscule contents of your respective stomachs.

The vomiting eventually starts to slow down to a halt, so he’s got you both laying down with cold compresses on each of your foreheads. The kid shivers so violently in the throws of his fever that Din decides to stick him in the shower under cold water for a few minutes. Poor little guy seems to be getting the worst of whatever this sickness is, possibly due to the difference in species or his young age. Afterwards Din has him wrapped up in a towel, cradling the child lovingly as he hums a Mandalorian chant. 

“Quit fussing over me,” you say as you later throw back the bacta pills, chasing them with a generous sip of water, “I’m an adult, Din. I’ll be fine after these kick in and I go to sleep. Take care of our sweet little boy. I appreciate you so much, but he needs you more than I do right now.’ 

Soon enough you’re passed out in the cot, and Din is left alone with the sick little child in his arms. Redressed, full of bacta, and wrapped up in the blanket, the kid is also finally starting to fall asleep. 

“I’m so glad that you came into my life, ad’ika,” Din finds himself whispering to the sleepy child, “You’ve changed me for the better, kid. No matter what happens, I want you to know how important you are to me.”

The child seems to understand this, smiling up at him as his huge eyes slip closed. A little hand reaches out, so Din lets him hold onto his bare index finger until he falls asleep. Once the kid is out cold, Din gently places him next to you inside the cot. Sitting on the ground just outside of the open sleeping chamber, Din finally feels his shoulders begin to relax. Jupiter appears out of nowhere then, jumping into his lap to rub her neck along the beskar on Din’s chest as she purrs. Scooping her up, Din takes comfort in the vibrations of her purring while she lets him hold her and stroke at her head.

And then Din feels it. Chills all over his body, and waves of nausea low in his belly. The back of his throat starts to heat up, mouth watering. In record time Din is closing himself in the fresher, tearing the helmet from his head as he curses, “dank farrik,” before emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

*****

A few days later, once everyone is no longer sick aboard the Space RV, you find yourself examining your naked form in the fresher after taking a quick shower. Training with Din had been particularly vigorous today, and the need for hot water on your skin was completely necessary. You felt great going from what was essentially a hard workout session to a what was about to be a relaxing shower, but you when you caught a glimpse of your reflection while undressing, something in you shifted. You can’t get it out of your head enough to enjoy the heat and the steam, so once you’re out and clean you wipe down the fogged up mirror for another glimpse at yourself. 

Moving towards the mirror above the sink, you frown at your body’s reflection. Swiveling to examine your thighs and ass, your gaze starts shifting up to your stomach, and then to your breasts. You stop there for a moment and feel them, wondering why in the hell a man like Din Djarin finds them so attractive. Why he finds any part of you attractive. 

Leaning forward, you take a good look at your face. Poking here and here, pushing your cheeks up before dragging them back down under your palms. Smiling, frowning, sighing. Then your hands move to the still purple hair atop your head, a little longer now that many weeks have past since you’d gotten it cut. You’d wanted to change your look drastically, almost as if in some way to erase the version of you from before. Now you’re used to the alteration, but a part of you worries that the dramatic shift in appearance had been a mistake. Do you actually look as good as you thought you did or had that been in your head?

It’s not lost on you that your period is only about a day or two around the corner. Your breasts are sore, you’d felt as much just a moment ago, and your body feels incredibly bloated. Weighed down, even. The sudden change in mood after a good day is also a major indication.

“Ugh, just get over it and move on. You’ll feel better once you start to bleed,” you say to yourself quietly. This isn’t the first time that a long bout of confidence has been rivaled by the hormones of your monthly cycle, and you know that listening to your own advice is the best bet. Reaching for your change of clothes, you find that they are not hanging on the hook that you usually use. Looking around the room, its quite obvious that you’d forgotten to bring anything to change into with you to the fresher. 

“Fucking seriously?” You mutter, irritated as you begin to wrap up in a towel. As the moments tick on you are growing increasingly annoyed by your own presence. 

The fresher door slides open when you hit the little control pad to the right harder than you mean to, hissing as you shake your hand and poke your head out of the passageway. Coast clear, you rush over to where you keep your clothes in a compartment by the cot and start rummaging around for something comfortable to wear. 

“What are you doing?” 

The Mandalorian’s voice is suddenly behind you and you jump, nearly dropping the towel all together. The last thing you want is him to see you naked while you feel so uncomfortable. 

“I forgot my clothes,” you say awkwardly, not turning around to face him just yet. You even pretend to pick through the small amount of clothing you own for an extra few moments after finding what you want to wear. 

“Are you okay, Cyar’ika?” Din moves in closer to you, so you finally turn to face him.

Standing there looking as he always does in his beskar armor, which is handsome as hell, you feel even less confident. “I’ll be fine,” you say, avoiding his gaze. Even though you can’t see it, you know it’s fixed upon you.

“Something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes,” he says confidently, looking you over. 

Feeling him look you up and down makes your skin want to crawl right off of your skeleton. “I’m fine,” you repeat, firmly this time. 

Din then says your name in a vulnerable tone, “I don’t think you are. Have I transgressed in some way?” 

“No, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Then please let me help.” 

“I’ll just go get dressed.” You try to push past him and he stops you with an arm out. He’s careful not to touch you, at least that’s how it comes across. 

Din’s voice shifts octaves as he speaks to you very tenderly. There is no firmness to the tone, only gentle support from your partner. “We do not pull away from one another, remember? We talk about it.” 

Damn him for quoting you back to yourself, because once he says that you realize that he’s completely right. If you expect him not to shut you out then you owe him the same courtesy. With a great sigh, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again as you tell him, “I don’t feel very attractive right now.” 

“Huh?” Din says, clearly confused. 

“I feel gross and unattractive,” you say, using additional language to further your statement along.

“But you are neither of those things,” he replies matter of factly, tilting his head. 

“Ugh,” you groan as this back and forth becomes tedious, “I didn’t say I was. I said I feel like I am.”

Din’s silence worries you for the prolonged moment that it exists, and then he surprises you with the commanding tone he occasionally uses during sex, “Take the towel off.” 

“What? Why? Where’s the kid?”

“Sleeping upstairs,” Din answers quickly, “Let it drop, and let me remind you that you are ner mesh’la.” 

“I’m not in the mood for that,” you say firmly.

“This is not about sex. This is about worship,” Din matches your firmness.

After a moment of hesitation, the towel drops from your person. Being in the main living space of the Razor Crest like this feels alien. It feels even stranger when Din slides the gloves from his hands and moves to stand in front of you. His fingertips gently rest upon the curves where your shoulders end and your arms begin. Instinctively, a hand starts to reach up for him and he shakes his head.

“Hands down. Chin up. Eyes on me.” Din adjusts you to stand a little straighter, better posture in your neck as you look at him. A finger comes to rest under your chin as you position your eyes to look directly into the black visor. In your mind you’re trying to imagine the brown eyes on the other side of the beskar barrier, locking onto them.

The pads of his fingertips being to gently sweep over your skin, touching all over as he makes his way around your upper half. It feels so good and you’re barely being touched. Lids trying to slip closed as little sparks of pleasure find you, a shudder runs through your body. Through every sensation, you keep your eyes locked on him.

Din leans in slightly, brushing beskar against your forehead. “Tell me something you don’t like about yourself, and I will tell you why I love it.”

And so you do. You run over the entire list of things you’ve had a problem with since your teen years. Superficial little things that don’t truly matter or take away from your natural beauty, but things you wish you could change nonetheless. Din responds to each of these small grievances by ghosting his hands over the area, describing what about it he finds so endearing. 

By the end of this worshiping of your form, Din is again standing at full height with his hands on your shoulders. His left hand slides down your right arm, taking your hand and moving it towards his tented groin.

Before you can say anything, the Mandalorian quells any worries of his intentions, “I do not wish to do anything, but I want you to feel what you do to me. Feel how much my body yearns to be connected to yours. Yooba solus mesh’la, ner cyare.” 

His hardness beneath your hand causes none of the heat to rise in your core or wanting in your mind. It serves it’s intended purpose, to solidify everything that Din just said to you. Every compliment, every kind remark. All for you and all real. Tangible. So many emotions flood your system after such an experience, and you feel even more spent than you would if you’d had sex with him after all. Leaning most of your weight onto him, it feels like you may collapse if he were to move away from you. Cramps are starting to swell down in your belly, waves of pain and physical exhaustion rolling through you.

“Thank you, ner burc’ya. Have I told you that you’re my favorite person?” 

“Not in those exact words,” Din sounds so playful, and your heart swells for him.

“Oh,” tittering, you turn your head so that your mouth is positioned right under the edge of his helmet, “Well, you’re my favorite person, Din Djarin.”

“Mm,” Din’s hum greets your ears, sounding almost like it does when you’re blindfolded because of how close you are to the lip of beskar. 

Then a small little panic attack tries to break through the sense of calm Din just helped you achieve, body quivering. “I really need my best friend right now. What you just did helped, but I’m still not okay.” 

With his metal clad forehead pressed to your bare one, Din offers little shushing noises of comfort, “I’m here. I’ve got you. Get dressed, let me go get the kid, and I will hold you in our bed.” 

*****

The following week it finally occurs to you why things with Din are so different to you. You’re mulling this over during the morning caf routine, mixing the bitter but sweet hot beverage as you think about how it feels like things between the two of you are moving incredibly fast.  Din’s treating you as if you’ve been together for a significant amount of time. Like a spouse, one might say. Oddly enough, you conclude that you’re also very okay with it. 

That’s when it hits you. It’s because on Earth you would have had to jump through all of the awkward, uncomfortable hoops of dating before a relationship would have ever progressed this far. Months worth of time, if not more, would have been spent trying to figure out if the two of you were even a good match for each other. Putting on airs to impress one another, fumbling through weird social situations, fitting time in for each other between careers and personal lives. 

Here, in the galaxy, dating doesn’t seem like a concept that makes any sense. Not with a nomadic Mandalorian, at least. Just saying in your head sounds fucking silly. If you had never come to live on his ship, care for his foundling, and ultimately become his close friend, Din probably would have never considered you in that way. You’ve known him for nearly half a year at this point, lived with him for nearly half a year. Aside from the hunts he would leave you behind for, almost every single day in that six month period has been spent in the presence of one another. With him, this must be a very significant thing. Din Djarin seems very much the type that would not jump into something frivolous. He only feels comfortable being like this with you because there is real trust and love involved. 

You’ve never experienced anything even close to this in your life. Not a single time. Any boyfriend back on Earth had either been an aloof dick, or a sex hungry moron. You’ve never taken the time to truly become friends with someone prior to dating them. 

So yeah, things have been hot and heavy with your Mandalorian while somehow also being the most meaningful emotional connection you’ve likely ever had or ever will have. The kind you used to pine for when you’d stay up all night reading romance stories only to just bum yourself out the next day. With Din it’s like you’re getting to have your cake and eat it too. 

“Din, caf’s ready!” You call up to the cockpit. When he doesn't answer you frown and call for him again. He still doesn’t answer, so you make your way up the ladder, forsaking the steaming cups of caf down in the galley. 

When you reach the top and make your way into the cockpit, the sight before your eyes stops you in your tracks. 

Din’s flying the ship with the kid in his lap, and he’s bobbing his silver head as he lightly sings to himself. What gets you, is that you can see the white chords of your headphones sticking out from under the base of his helmet and that you know exactly what song he’s singing to himself. When you step further into the room, you see that the kid is holding the iPad in his little green claws. Din doesn’t notice your presence at all, in fact he starts to sing even louder as it would seem that he’s getting into it. 

Clearly, he’s been stealing your iPad and listening to your music. For how long, you couldn’t even guess. Long enough to for him to learn the words to one of your favorite nü metal songs, as he’s been singing it correctly this whole time. The biggest grin stretches across your features, heart melting as you hear your Mandalorian’s beautiful baritone singing the chorus of Aerials by System of a Down. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you listen for a moment before you turn to go back downstairs. But then the kid notices you, making little noises of excitement as he waves his right hand at you. 

Din sees this, and stops singing to turn around and look at you. He pulls on one of the chords attached to his ears, and you watch as the little white bud falls out from under the helmet to limply lay across his beskar chest plate. 

“Hi,” you greet them, moving in to close the distance between you and your two favorite boys.

“Hi,” Din replies, reaching a gloved hand out to graze over your hip before leaning his head on the same area and wrapping his arm around your thighs. 

Turning your attention to the child, you reach a hand down to stroke his head. “Hey Green Bean. You want breakfast, buddy?” 

The kid nods his head and reaches up for you, so you scoop him up in your arms. Din chuckles and sits back up straight. “If he ever says no to food, we should be worried.”

“True. So… looks like you’ve developed a taste for Earth music,” chuckling, you grin down at Din.

“Some of it is very pleasant to the ear,” he agrees, gesturing to the iPad in his lap. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve taken the liberty.”

You shake your head, telling him, “Exchanging cultural information with each other is never something I will mind. You’re welcome to use that thing whenever you want to. If I’m learning all about the life of a Mandalorian, it’s only fitting that you learn about the life of an Earthling. Use up all the battery and it’s your responsibility to charge it, though.” 

Din chuckles, “Fair enough.” 

*****

It isn’t until your group arrives that you truly realize how unbearably hot Tatooine is going to be. With twin suns (a concept you had yet to consider until Din had explained it to you) heating it’s vast desert surface, the planet is sure to be stifling during the day. Risk of not only sunburn but severe skin damage is an issue, and the planet is supposed to be chilly at night, so wearing shorts and a tank top isn’t really an option. You’re forced to wear the thick clothes you normally need out in space, and you know that you’re going to be drenched in sweat within the first hour. How Din can manage these conditions covered in armor you will never know. 

“I have to warn you,” Din says as the hatch begins to open, “Peli is a trusted friend, but she is a little… eccentric.”

“I can get down with eccentric,” You reply, laughing at Din when you realize he’s confused by your phrasing. You don’t bother to explain, grinning up at your cosmic companion.

He simply shakes his head and begins making his way down the ramp. You can hear a woman’s voice speaking to a group of small droids, and when you exit the ship you are greeted with the sight of a short little lady who looks to be in her late fifties or early sixties. She’s got a wild mane of dark curly hair, either no eyebrows or ones that are very faint, and she’s wearing a dark red jumpsuit much like the ones mechanics wear back on Earth.

“May as well let them have at it. The Crest needs a good once over,” Din says as he reaches the bottom of the ramp, turning back to take a look at the ship’s outer hull. 

“Oh,” the woman says with her arms splayed out as she looks over the small group of intelligent robots, “so he likes droids now. You heard him! Give it a once over!” 

As you make your way down the ramp, smiling as you watch Din avoid the little droids running by him, Peli finally stops to realize that Mando did not travel to Tatooine alone. She looks you up and down, and then back to Din with her non-existent brows raised. 

“Who’s that?” The engineer asks skeptically, jabbing a thumb in your direction.

“This is my companion,” Din replies. Your heart is ready to burst from your chest upon hearing him say that. You hadn’t expected him to announce you in such a way, which indicates to you that he truly views this woman as a trusted friend. He tells Peli your name, and you nod to the woman as he does so. 

“Nice to meet you, Peli,” you say politely. 

“Yeah yeah, likewise,” she waves at you almost dismissively before squinting at the Mandalorian, “Since when do you have a companion? You never came off as the romantic type, Mando. I guess a lot has changed since you were last in Mos-” 

In what you assume is an effort to save himself from having to explain further, Din pulls his satchel out in front of him to reveal the green child nestled inside of it to Peli. She cheers with her hands in the air and the kid makes happy little noises upon recognizing her. Din holds the satchel out to her and she begins peeling the kid from the bag, practically forgetting that you exist.

“Oh thank the force! This little thing has had me worried sick! Come here you little womp rat.” Peli holds him out in front of her as the green baby makes little noises up at her. “Huh! Looks like it remembers me. How much do you want for it? Just kidding, but not really. You know if this thing ever divides or buds, I will gladly pay for the offspring.”

Your eyebrows raise as you look over to Din, who shrugs at you in a silent response. He wasn’t kidding when he called her eccentric. Just then a loud clanking noise comes from the Razor Crest behind you, and Peli turns to yell at her droids.

“HEY! Oh jeez. Watch what you’re doing up there! He barely trusts your kind. You want to give all droids a bad name? Thank you!” 

Din interjects then, “I’m here on business. I need your help.”

Peli nods, “Ah, well then business you shall have. Care for me to watch this wrinkled critter while you seek out adventure?” 

“I’ve been quested to bring this one back to it’s kind,” he explains.

The Tatooine resident rocks the child a little as she replies, “Oh wow. I can’t help you there. I’ve never seen any like it. And trust me, I’ve seen all shapes and sizes in this town.”  

Din explains why your group is there, and why finding another Mandalorian is necessary to navigate through the various hidden coverts in order to chart a path. She argues that he’s the only Mando that’s been on Tatooine for years, and he asks her about Mos Pelgo. 

An old beat up droid named R5 wheels out to display a map of Tatooine, and Peli explains to Din why Mos Pelgo, an old mining settlement, isn’t on any of the maps while pointing out its general vicinity. She then points out that the Space RV is basically going to stick out like a sore thumb, so Din asks if she still has her speeder bike. 

Obliging, Peli gets the bike out for your group to borrow. You’re both surprised and not surprised that it’s basically a motorcycle that hovers off the ground. While Din is preparing it or travel, the odd little woman takes the opportunity to approach you as you’re surveying the odd little desert workshop.

“So how in the hell does a pretty girl like you end up as Mando’s companion? What does that even mean for a guy like him?” 

Looking at her, you smile a little, “It’s a long story. The short version of it is that I needed transport and he needed help with the child so we exchanged services. The rest of it, the companionship, just kind of fell into place on it’s own. No one was searching for it when we met.”

“Ah, as it usually does with those things,” Peli nods, chuckling a little as she throws you a knowing glance. You briefly wonder how many dalliances this woman has had in her day. “I just would have never pegged him as the sort to get involved with another. You seem very sweet, and he’s always been so… grumpy.” 

“He’s still a huge grump,” you laugh, glancing over in his direction to see him working so diligently to make sure that the bike is drivable and that there are enough provisions packed to last a few days. Watching his armored body move around with precision is mesmerizing. The way he tilts his head, squatting down to adjust something at the back end of the bike. Each movement is worth admiring. Eventually, though, you stop ogling him and tun back to Peli, “but sometimes I get to see a side of him that he doesn't show to anyone else in the galaxy.” 

“And you don’t care that he’ll never take that beskar helmet off in front of you?”

“Nope,” you reply honestly, blushing as your mind wanders to the night before when he’d made you cum twice in one sitting as you laid there with your blindfold on. You plan to take his almost nightly tasting of you to the grave at this point, knowing full well that Din upholds his privacy just as much as his creed. 

“Must be the real thing, then. I’ve only known him for a short while, but I’m glad to see that he’s got someone who cares about him,” Peli says sincerely, “Everyone deserves that.” 

“I couldn’t agree more,” you reply, noticing that Din seems to be ready to go. “And I hope that you find or have already found that for yourself. You’re a nice woman, I’m glad that I got to meet you today.” 

“Likewise,” Peli agrees with a nod, handing the child over to you. She hasn’t let go of him since Din let her take him and that was nearly an hour ago. You appreciate the fact that she seems to genuinely love your little green bean so much. The kid is popular, you’ll give him that.

Walking up to Din, you see that he’s secured the satchel onto the back of the speeder. Handing the child over, you watch as Din puts the child down in the leather bag before climbing onto the back end of the speeder’s long seat. On Earth you would have never climbed onto the back of a motorcycle willingly. Even with a driver you trust, those things always felt like glorified death traps. But here on a planet called Tatooine? With Din? Climbing onto the back of the speeder feels like a no brainer. Like going off with Din Djarin on an adventure is the easiest decision in the world.

*****

Finding Mos Pelgo ends up taking a lot longer than you thought it would. It feels like you’re clinging to Din on that speeder bike for the better part of the long day. He stops a few times so that everyone can get a bathroom break, and you find out that being a woman and peeing in the middle of a hot desert is not fun. Staying hydrated is key in a place like this, but that also means frequent needs to relieve full bladders.

Eventually the three of you stumble upon a small group of locals that Din informs you are called Tusken Raiders. These people are clad head to toe in lightly colored fabric and wear interesting looking face coverings.

“Let me do the talking,” Din says as you detach from his back and climb off the bike. 

“I was planning on it,” you reply, amused with your cosmic companion. Picking the baby up, you hold him to your hip and offer him a sip of water. The child slurps it up happily, seeming mostly unbothered by the heat.

You, on the other hand, come from a colder region of Earth where the winters are filled with snow and sub-zero temperatures and the summers are gorgeously mild. Being cold is your least favorite feeling in the world, but the heat on Tatooine is borderline too much for you with the amount of clothing you have on. It seems as if nightfall will be approaching soon, but even still it’s hot as hell on this planet. Luckily the eye protection Peli let you borrow is helping with how bright everything is, but damn if two suns isn’t one too many. 

The Tusken Raiders begin speaking to Din in a language that you can only describe as throaty high pitched noises and gurgles, with what appears to be some kind of sign language thrown into the mix. When Din starts speaking the language back to them, you nearly choke on your own sip of water. It doesn’t even sound like his voice, the noises coming from his modulator are so foreign to you. But, in an attempt to be polite you try not to react in a way that would come off as if you are being judgmental. 

Din gestures back to you and the kid as he speaks, and the Tuskens all turn their heads to look at you. Feeling as if you should do something, you come to stand beside your Mandalorian and smile at them with a bow of the head. 

“I do not speak your language, but it’s nice to meet all of you,” you offer, just in case one of them knows basic. The kid seems to also get the picture, waving at all of them.

One seems to understand you, also bowing their head politely. Din nods at you in approval, so apparently your decision to say that was the right one. As the conversation continues, eventually they offer your group a spot at the small campfire and some of the food they are preparing once the twin suns begin to set. 

All they seem to be cooking is some kind of indistinguishable meat, and as much as it pains you to have to do so, you very politely eat a portion of it. Then you are offered a strange, unpleasant smelling fruit from which you are expected to drink it’s juice. With a grimace, you slurp the nasty liquid down. It’s not as bad as it smells, but it’s definitely not something you would ever seek out to taste again. Once finished, you offer them a kind smile and a nod, and all of the Tuskens seem to be pleased with your appreciation of their culture. 

One even leans over to Din, elbowing him slightly as he says something in his native tongue. Din laughs in response, head turning to face you as he speaks back in Tusken. 

“What was that about?” You ask later, as the three of you try to get comfortable by the fire. Days may be hot as hell on Tatooine but, true to deserts back on Earth, the night is very chilly. 

The Tuskens have mostly gone off to sleep in their tents or curled up in the warmth of a bantha. Apparently this small group is in the midst of travel themselves, being on their way to join the rest of their tribe at their village. Luckily they are well aware of Mos Pelgo, and have pointed Din in the right direction. By first light the three of you will be back on the speeder bike in search of this rogue Mandalorian once again. 

“Hm?” Din asks after a moment.

“When the Tusken made you laugh and you looked right at me.” 

“Oh,” Din turns is head towards you, “He said that it was too bad that you’re my woman because you would make a fine wife.” 

“I would make an excellent wife,” you agree with a smirk, playing it cool as your heart skips a beat. You’ve always wanted to be a wife, to be tethered to another for the rest of your life. Having a husband is the most romantic thing you can think of, so just hearing Din even say the word wife makes you feel all giddy regardless of the fact that you’re no where near ready to consider something like that with him. It’s no more than a nice thought in this early stage of the relationship. “Why did that make you laugh, though?” 

“Well he also said it looks like you know your way around a bedchamber. He meant it as a compliment. I didn't know what to say to that, so I just laughed.”

“What?!” You whisper yell, smacking the part of his arm that is not covered in indestructible metal. The kid is sound asleep between you, so you’re careful not to wake him. “Why is that funny?”

Din’s reply is very matter of fact even as he chuckles, “It’s not funny, it’s just true.” 

“Hm,” your eyes narrow playfully, “We’ll see who’s laughing when we get back to our bedchamber, Chrome Dome.”

*****

The following morning Din wakes up just as the twin suns are beginning to rise, the planet’s surface already feeling a good ten or fifteen degrees warmer than it had when he’d drifted off to sleep. You’re still snoring in his arms, and the kid is curled up next to your face. Sleeping on a blanket in the sand hadn’t been exactly comfortable, but Din is pleased that his aliit managed to find rest. 

Cramped as it may be, he misses the comfort of the cot on the Razor Crest. Sleeping with you pressed against him is his newly preferred way disengage from consciousness each night. Holding you in his arms as his tired brain replays all of the lewd sexual acts that had just been committed up in the cockpit, or listening to the sweet nothings you whisper to him as you fall asleep.

When he told you that the Tusken had made the comment about you being a good candidate for a wife, Din hadn’t been entirely honest with you. He hadn’t really laughed just because the Tusken made the reference to sex. Din had laughed because of the wife statement. The exact same thought has been on his mind for the last few days, and he told the Tusken as much knowing that you could not understand. 

Having a riduur was never something Din ever concerned himself with prior to meeting you. Perhaps once or twice as a young man the thought of finding a wife one day had been appealing, but that had been many cycles ago. Once he hit his mid thirties and had pretty much come to terms with his perpetual solitude, the idea of a spouse just seemed especially childish and incredibly far off from his lifestyle. It wasn’t until the Armorer brought it up during their brief meeting on Nevarro that he’d even thought about it where you are concerned. Things hadn’t progressed enough with you for it to be in consideration yet.

Din Djarin never expected a family, an aliit, to fall into his lap the way that this one has. Now that he’s had a glimpse of what life is like with you by his side, the word wife has been floating around in his mind more and more frequently. He doesn’t plan to address this any time soon, but the simple fact remains that the idea of marriage is suddenly more feasible for Din than it had been six months ago. 

Din just lays there for a moment, watching you. Watching your chest rise and fall. Watching the curve of your lips tugging upward. Watching your eyes move behind your lids as you dream. He imagines introducing you to others as his wife, to the Mandalorians of his covert as his riduur. He imagines bestowing you with a betrothal weapon and asking for you to join his clan permanently. He imagines your voice as you take the vow to be his for the rest of your lives. Clan Mudhorn could become a clan of three, and truthfully the thought of it causes Din’s chest to swell as his stomach does a somersault in his belly. 

Part of him already considers you to be a part of his clan, but he knows that you also deserve the right to choose what path you would like your life to take. Eventually, if things continue in this direction and when the time seems right, Din plans to ask you this significant question. Until that time comes, however, he will enjoy the courtship between you and the sensations of peace that it stirs within him. It may not always feel like this, so enjoying it while it lasts seems like the only logical thing to do. 

Your breathing pattern changes a little then, face contorting into one of dismay. Lips parting, a little noise escapes you that sounds both pained and fearful. A nightmare seems to have found your subconscious. This doesn’t occur nightly, but Din has awakened to you in the throws of a nightmare twice now. Apparently this happens to you from time to time, and most of the nightmares you have tend to be hyper-realistic representations of past traumatic events in your life. He’s learned that there is only one good way to help you wake up from it and avoid a panic.

“S’not my fault,” you mumble, body beginning to twitch around. 

Din places a gloved hand to you face, “Shh, Cyar’ika. It’s only a dream. You are here with me and our foundling on Tatooine. We camped with Tusken Raiders last night. You are safe.”  

Voice hoarse, your eyes blink a few times at him and a hand finds his wrist. “Din?”

“I’m here. Nightmare?”

“Yes,” your breathing starts to return to a normal rhythm as you clutch him, “about my parents this time.”

“It was only a dream. Whatever happened is in the past,” Din soothes. This worked the last time, and it seems to be doing the trick as your body’s tension lessens.

Just then the kid wakes up, blinking up at his adults as a tiny yawn escapes him. Holding the small green child even tighter to your chest, Din can see a few tears rolling down your cheeks as you squeeze him.

“I’ll never treat you the way they treated me,” you whisper to him, “As long as you’re with me, all you’re ever going to feel is love and understanding, my little green bean. I love you so much, buddy.”

*****

Another long, hot ride on the speeder bike later and a tiny little town finally comes into view. With maybe a dozen buildings on the one short strip, this has got to be the tiniest town you’ve ever seen in your life. It looks like something out of an old black and white western and as if your observation isn’t already spot on, you find yourself following Din what into what is clearly a saloon. 

Inside, an alien behind the bar who sort of reminds you of the creature from Jeepers Creepers, asks if he can help your traveling party. 

“I’m looking for a Mandalorian,” Din says, hands on the bar as he leans forward. 

“We don’t get many visitors in these parts. Can you describe him?” 

You try not to chuckle as Din sounds vaguely annoyed. “Someone who looks like me.”

The man seems to understand. “Oh, you mean the Marshall?

“Your Marshall wears Mandalorian armor?” 

“See for yourself,” the bartender gestures towards the door of the saloon, and both you and Din turn your heads to see a skinny figure approaching the establishment wearing what is most definitely Mandalorian armor. 

It’s beat up to hell, and you’re shocked to see that this armor is decorated with various colors of paint. The idea of Mandalorians personalizing their equipment never occurred to you until now, and when you look over Din’s own sleek design you realize that it is an intentional choice. You’d assumed they all look shiny like Din. The silver fits him so well, and it occurs to you how much it actually fits his personality.

“What brings you here, strangers?” The Marshall asks, a certain twang in his voice only furthering along the old western comparison. 

“I’ve been searching for you for many parsecs,” Din explains. 

“Well, now you found me.” The Marshall walks up to the bar and orders a bottle of blue liquor and three cups, taking them over to a nearby table as he offers you and Din a drink. Then, to your complete surprise, the Marshall takes his helmet off and places it on the table. He’s a handsome enough middle aged man, with neatly combed gray hair and a beard.

Din stops dead in his tracks as the man speaks. “I’ve never met a real Mandalorian. Heard stories,” the stranger pours the drinks, smirking up at the two of you, “I know you’re good at killin’, and probably none too happy seeing me wearing this hardware. So, I figure, only one of us is walkin’ outta here. But then I see the little guy and the fine lady standing behind you, and I think maybe I pegged you wrong.” 

“Who are you?” Din asks, voice on edge.

“I’m Cobb Vanth, Marshall of Mos Pelgo.” He tips his drink to Din before taking a sip. 

“Where did you get the armor?”

“Bought it off some Jawas.” 

Din’s tone is even but firm, “Hand it over.” 

“Look pal, I’m sure you call the shots where you come from but round here I’m the one who 

tells folks what to do.” 

“Take it off, or I will.” Din takes a threatening step forward.

Vanth points to where the kid is standing by a ceramic pot on the floor. “We gonna do this in front of the kid?” 

Din nods his head, and the way he says the next few words makes something in your core shift, “He’s seen worse.” 

God, he’s so fucking sexy when he’s in Mando mode. But, you’d rather not see a bloodbath today so you step forward as Cobb begins to stand. “Perhaps there is a way you boys can solve this peacefully, though.”

Just as Din turns to look at you as if to say, “Really?”, the ground begins to shake violently as if in the throws of an earthquake. 

Everyone runs out of the saloon just in time to see the sand moving like a great creature is moving around beneath the surface. It reminds you of movies like Tremors and Dune, and to your horror a huge creature is exactly what it turns out to be. The sand peaks move towards the bantha tied to a post just outside of town, and suddenly a great mouth opens up to swallow the poor thing whole. Between your ankles, the kid makes a scared little noise and hides his eyes against your leg. 

After that, Cobb Vanth explains that his town is in need of help with the creature and that perhaps they can come to an arrangement about the armor. If Din helps him kill it, he’ll give Din his armor. Ever true to his Mandalorian creed, Din takes Vanth up on the proposal so the beskar can be back in its rightful place among his people.

As the boys discuss why Din can’t just fly over with the Razor Crest and blow the thing to shit, you look down at the green baby in your arms and feel the tiniest bit of relief that Vanth is not a real Mandalorian. This means that instead of being one step closer to giving up the kid, your makeshift family is now taking an unexpected detour which is will only serve to prolong your time together. 

Back on the speeder bike, now your group is traveling with the Marshall through the desert as he rides along on his own odd looking bike. His looks like its made of the parts of multiple vehicles, thrown together by some crazy mechanic. You’re willing to bet that it might be Peli’s handiwork, despite knowing only a little bit about her.

During the ride, he regales you and Din with the story of how he got the armor and how he came to be the Marshall of Mos Pelgo. You grow a little bit of a soft spot for the man as he talks lovingly of his home town and the people in it for which he cares a great deal. You’ve never had a sense of community in that way, and it makes sense to you why Cobb is so desperate to keep it in tact. 

Eventually the group comes to a sharp angled rocky outcropping in the sand, Cobb leading everyone into the thin valley between the steep peaks. After about a half a mile, a loud noise can be heard and both speeders skid to a halt, the men both hopping off of their bikes to ready a weapon. Din grabs his rifle and pulls you down to crouch beside him on the ground. Raising your own blaster in the same direction, you try to ready yourself for a fight. The kid hides down in Din’s brown satchel. 

The noises get louder, and suddenly a dog-like reptilian creature approaches from the other side of a rock. Din’s rifle lowers a little, even as two others appear. He puts the weapon down all together, and Cobb looks at him in shock as Din begins approaching the animals. 

A little smile finds your lips as he begins speaking Tusken to the creatures which you learned the night before are called massiffs. As Din slowly moves towards them saying who knows what, the massiffs’ moods seem to change completely. So you watch as your mandalorian kneels down to pet one and scratch at it’s scaly neck as if the thing were a friendly golden retriever. 

Then the Tuskens appear, a different group then the ones you met the night before but likely from the same tribe. Din speaks to them a little, and Cobb leans over to speak to you.

Clearly he’s shocked by how civil the exchange between the Mandalorian and the Tuskens is. “Your fella’s quite the diplomat, ain’t he?” 

“He’s just a good man,” you say honestly, shrugging as you feel the weight of your words in your chest. It’s the truest statement you could have made, resonating with you that he’s the best man you’ve had in your life besides your grandfather. “He’s a bounty hunter and a Mandalorian warrior, but at the end of the day he's just as good at helping people as he is at killing them.”

Vanth nods, seeming to be alright with this answer. “How’d you end up by his side, if you don’t mind me askin’?” 

You chuckle, grabbing the kid from the satchel to hold him on your hip. “This little green bean, actually. I joined the Mandalorian to provide extra care for the child.”

“He’s a cute little fella, that’s for sure,” Vanth says, reaching out to wiggle a finger in front of the kid’s nose. “For what it’s worth, odd of a mix as it is, the three of ya make sense in a strange sort of way.”

Heart swelling, you nod at him in appreciation as you grin, “Thank’s, Marshall.” 

“You can call me Cobb, Ma’am.”

*****

After Cobb successfully makes a dick out of himself around the blazing campfire of the Tusken village and Din has to put out the metaphorical flames of the situation with the real ones of his flamethrower, the sand people inform Din that they have set up a small tent for you. But only for you. 

“What? Why just me?” You ask, confused. A shiver runs through you as the night becomes increasingly colder, the thought of being enclosed in a tent sounding pretty great right about now. 

Din explains, “The Tuskens are showing hospitality. They appreciate women in their culture, and since you have treated them with such respect both last night and today, they have prepared a tent so that you do not have to sleep in the conditions of the desert. Because we are not married, I cannot join you nor can the kid. We’ll sleep by the fire with Cobb, but if you decline this offer they will be greatly offended.” 

“Oh,” you say, eyebrows jolting upwards, “well I guess I can’t say no then. Too bad you guys can’t snuggle with me.”

“Soon enough, Cyare,” Din says quietly, knocking his head gently into yours.

And so you later find yourself trying to get comfortable in the small tent, feeling odd being in the surroundings of a completely foreign culture. Although the Tuskens are a nomadic people and never stay in the same place for very long, they’ve managed to make the interior of their non-permanent homes quite cozy. A few tapestries are hung up, and the ground level bed is far more comfortable than you expect it to be. The thick animal skin that makes up the sturdy tent walls does a good job of keeping the thing closed off from the outside. Once you douse the lights, everything in the tent is pitch black. 

Eventually you’re able to drift off to sleep for a while, until you suddenly awaken to a palm covering your mouth. Body going into survival mode, you start to thrash around and yell behind your attacker’s palm. That is, until you hear who it is.

“Shh, Cyar’ika. It’s me,” Din’s modulated voice is speaking to you in the darkness. You can barely see a thing, unable to find him until your hands land on his armor plated chest. His bare hand slowly lifts from your lips, allowing you to speak again.

“What are you doing in here?!” You whisper-yell, shoving at the beskar above your hands. “If the Tuskens catch you, won’t they be pissed?” 

“The Tuskens aren’t going to catch me,” he whispers back confidently, “I’ll be back in front of the fire before anyone gets up.” 

“What about the kid?” 

“He’s sleeping right by Cobb. I wouldn’t have left him alone.” 

The hand that had been covering your mouth is now snaking down past your stomach, below the fabric of your underwear. You’d taken your heavy pants off in order to sleep comfortably, having no access to the light stretchy pants you have back on the ship.

“You’re a maniac,” you giggle, back arching as his index finger slips between your delicate  folds. A shiver runs through you and you have to force back the little moan that wants to escape from the confines of your throat. 

“Perhaps,” Din agrees with a low chuckle.

Your hands find the helmet and come to rest at the back of his neck. “So what’s the plan here, Chrome Dome?” 

“The plan is I fuck you a little bit, and then I go back to the fire as if nothing happened at all,” he says matter of factly. 

“You really do love using that word now, don’t you?”

“Only when it’s appropriate.” 

In the same instant that the last syllable leaves his lips, the finger teasing you slips inside of your already moistening slit. It’s all you can do to not make loud, lewd noises as it enters you. 

“Fuck,” you hiss as quietly as you can, “is it bad that the prospect of being caught is a turn on?”

Din chuckles, “Why do you think I’m in here right now?” 

“Mm,” you hum, “So Din Djarin is kinkier than we thought.” 

“Enough talking,” Din says in that commanding tone that makes you weak in the knees. Then his finger vanishes, and your underwear is being yanked from your legs. He brings his hand up to your lips, and you eagerly pull the finger that had been inside you into your mouth as you lap up your own wetness.

When the finger disappears again, the unmistakeable sound of Din’s own trousers being unfastened comes next, followed by the feeling of his hands spreading your legs apart. He’s fully clothed, and you realize that until now he’s yet to fuck you in full armor. Even though you can’t really see anything, the concept sends a jolt of elation through you. You love a man in uniform. 

When he’s positioned at your entrance, you have to brace yourself a little. The handful of times you’ve had sex with him, he hasn’t been able to enter you without a loud noise of pleasure erupting from your wanting mouth. He seems to also be aware of this, as his palm once again comes to cover your parted lips. 

“Try not to be loud,” he whispers, and in that instance he’s slowly pushing into you. 

Whimpering from behind his hand, you grasp at his upper arms and squeeze as hard as you can to stop yourself from crying out. 

“That’s it, Cyar’ika,” Din breathes, modulator hissing right above your face, “be a good girl and take it quietly.” Suddenly the beskar helmet is pressed to your right ear as he quietly adds, “although I do love the slutty little noises you make for me. When we’re back home on our ship, you can scream my name as loud as you need to.” 

His voice is almost doing more to you than his body is, core heating up at his words. He knows how much you love dirty talk during sex, or rather, he’s been learning how much you love it.  Each time the two of you are together like this, you both manage to learn so much about one another. Your Mandalorian seems to love it too, reacting in the most lovely ways when you whisper depraved things to him in the throws of passion. You’ve never been more vocal during sex than you are with Din Djarin. It’s almost as if he’s been able to unlock a part of you that was hidden away, desperately waiting to be released. 

Din works himself in and out for a few moments, your legs coming to wrap around his waist. Soon he’s sweeping both of his hands under your upper back, and then in one fell swoop he’s scooping you up into the air while simultaneously sitting back on his ass. Your bodies never cease being linked, and now you’re the one on top as your Mandalorian lays himself down beneath you. Eyes having adjusted to the darkness of the tent, you can faintly see the silver glimmer of the beskar below you. 

With your hands braced against the cool metal, you slowly begin gyrating. At this angle he’s pushed so deep inside you that you feel almost pegged there, but eventually you work up enough momentum to really ride him. Somehow, this is the first time you’ve been on top with him. You’d nearly forgotten how quickly tiring it is on your thighs, but hearing Din’s soft little whimpers and moans makes it all the more worth it. 

You go until your hamstrings cannot take it much longer, collapsing forward onto the Mandalorian’s chest. Panting heavily, you rest your head on his shoulder. His arms circle you, one hand cradling your head while the other pins your shoulders down. Sharp little thrusts find you then, Din’s hips jerking upwards to crash into you. Eventually he slows down to a stop, fingers running through your hair as he begins to soothe you. 

“I’m going to let you get back to sleep,” he says.

“Already?” You pout, “What about finishing?” 

“I told you, I only wanted to fuck you a little bit. Do you need to finish?” 

“Honestly, no. This was perfect. Besides, I’m fucking tired and we have a giant sand lizard to kill tomorrow.” 

“Precisely. We can resume this at a later time.” 

Din pulls out as you peel yourself off of him, feeling around for your underwear.  He notices that they’re bunched up right beside his head, so he holds them out as he looks you over.

“Let me put these back where I found them,” he chuckles quietly, sitting up while simultaneously pushing you down onto your back. He finds the right legs for each hole, easing the soft fabric slowly up your legs. When he reaches your upper thighs he chuckles, “Lift up, Love.” 

So you lift your ass, noticing that its the first time he’s ever called you “love” in basic as he moves your underwear the rest of the way on. Then he comes to hover over you, and you smile contently up at him.

“What, Chrome Dome?” 

“Close your eyes,” he says.

You comply, feeling his hand come to cover your closed lids. A small hiss can be heard, and then his lips are capturing yours in a short lived but heated kiss. 

When he pulls apart, your voice is breathy, “I wasn't even going to ask you to do that.”

“That was for me,” Din says, modulated once again as he removes his hand. “Sleep well, Cyar’ika.” 

You pull his hand back down to your face, kissing his palm. It feels like sleep will reclaim you at any moment, so you curl up in the blankets and close your eyes. “Goodnight, Din.”

“Jate ca,” he says your name, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Just as you hear him moving for the exit of the tent, a sleepy little smile crosses your features and you hear yourself say, “love you… so much.”

The tent is silent for a short moment, before you hear Din lowly reply, “I love you,” in basic rather than Mando’a. For some reason this makes you blush, as if hearing him say it both in his native tongue and yours makes it seem more like you're on even footing with each other.

Then he’s gone, and you’re alone once again. Feeling as if all of that had been a lovely dream, your mind drifts back to unconsciousness.

*****

At first light the Tusken Raider camp is up and about, and you find yourself exiting the darkness of your tent to already blinding sunlight assaulting your eyes. Din and the kid are waiting patiently for you just outside of the tent, and your face forms into the happiest of grins when you see them. Din hands the kid over as you approach, the small green child reaching eagerly for his foster mom.  

“Good Morning, my little love bug,” you say happily, rubbing the tip of your nose onto his. The kid giggles and grabs your face in response. “And good morning to my favorite Mandalorian,” you say as you turn your head to Din with a knowing grace. Under different circumstances, in the sanctity of the Razor Crest, you would have kissed his helmet where his lips ought to be. 

“Jate vaar’tur,” Din responds with a tilt of the head.

Cobb looks between all of you with a raised brow before sarcastically saying, “Well good morning to you guys too.” 

You like to think that Din just rolled his eyes behind the beskar, hearing him sigh. You chuckle as you wave over to the Marshall of Mos Pelgo. “Morning, Cobb.”

A few Tuskens come to speak to Din, and after a short breakfast of nutrition packs, everyone seems ready to get the show on the road. 

A speeder bike ride later, your group is back in Mos Pelgo with the sand people following behind on bantha back. Cobb calls a town meeting, to which all residents show up at the bar where you’d first met this Tatooine gunslinger. 

He explains the situation to his people, filling them in up to the point where he tells them that the sand people are the ones who are going to help kill the krayt dragon. At this, the people of Mos Pelgo become slightly uproarious and once again Din is forced to step in to help Cobb keep the peace. 

An agreement is finally settled upon, and the two factions of Tatooine locals are forced to team up. Things are heated and uncomfortable, but eventually everyone is able to work together for the most part. Din explains the plan to everyone, and after another long journey across the sand you find yourself back at the mouth of the dragon’s cave.

It feels like it takes well over an hour for the plan to be set up. Burying the explosives, setting up the huge crossbow-like structures, getting everyone into position, making sure everyone knows their role. Din, Cobb, the kid, and yourself are situated further back and off to the side to observe everything. Cob’s got the detonator and you can tell he’s anxious to press the damn thing and get this over with. 

And so the plan begins. The krayt dragon comes when the Tusken Raiders call for it. Shooting it with the large arrows seems to only just piss the thing off, and Cobb nearly pushes the button too soon. You’re horrified when the dragon opens it’s great mouth and a disgusting stream of what looks like bile is vomited all over some of the poor people down there. Whatever it is, it must be acidic because from what you can see it appears to melt their skin and clothing. 

“Almost,” Din is saying as he watches it slither forward through his miniature telescope, “Almost… Now!”

Cobb presses the detonator, and the explosives hit dead on. The ground quakes beneath your feet and you can feel the heat of the explosions even from this vantage point. Only, they don’t seem to do the kind of damage that Din was hoping for. Angry, the krayt dragon retreats into the ground, only to reappear at the top on the small mountain it’s cave resides under. It once again sprays the acidic bile all over the people below, and this is when Din and Cobb decide to get involved. 

Din turns to you and grabs your shoulders, “You stay here and keep the kid safe. I will return.” 

“You fucking better,” you squeeze him once.

The rest of it almost goes by in a blur. Din and Cobb fly down to fight the thing off for a while, until Cobb uses the rocket on his jet pack to get it’s attention and your stomach drops as it begins slithering towards them. Then you see Din hit the jet pack on Cobb’s back, sending him flying into the air until he lands hard just a few yards away from you. Din struggles with the bantha’s ropes and you turn your attention to the man splayed out in the sand before you.

“What the fuck is he doing?” You call out to Cobb, who shakes his head at you.

“I don’t know, I think your fella is crazier than skinny hutt!” Cobb calls back, and the both of you turn your attention back to the scene down below just in time to see the krayt dragon consume both the bantha covered in extra explosives and Din Djarin before diving back down into the sand.

The kid makes a squeak of fear beside you, and you start sprinting forward as your stomach drops down to your feet. “Mando! DIN!” 

It feels like the moment lasts forever, everyone just watching in stunned horror. For you, you just watched your partner get swallowed up by a giant sand lizard. For the people below you, they just watched their one hope at saving their land get eaten alive. 

And then the ground begins to shake, your booted feet vibrating beneath you. Rumbling can be heard before the sand suddenly breaks free and the dragon re-emerges. It’s great mouth opens wide, and you finally release the breath you’d been holding in when Din’s form comes flying out of the opening. 

He hits the detonator, and you watch in awe as the krayt dragon explodes from the inside out before your very eyes. Grabbing the child, you take off in Din’s direction, running right past Cobb at full speed. 

“Mando!” You shout, barreling right into him. He’s covered in some sort of nasty green slime from the krayt dragon’s belly, and in this moment you could care fucking less as you cling to him. “Don’t fucking scare me like that.”

“I told you I would return,” Din says simply, looking you and the child over. The kid coos up at him, so Din’s beskar covered head tilts down as he nods. “I’m okay, buddy.”

The kid nods in return, and you’re just glad that your little family is still in one piece. 

The Tuskens make quick work of harvesting the dragon’s meat, even giving a generously huge hunk to Din as a thank you. You look down at the bloody red meat and gag a little. It looks so gross.

Noticing this, Din chuckles in your direction. “I know you don’t love to eat meat, but this will come in handy. I’ll make us a krayt dragon stew when we return home to the Crest.”

Sarcastically, you pat your stomach and say, “yummy,” with the final syllable drawn out to sound more like, “yum-eeee.” Din laughs even harder, and the sound of it fills you with so much joy.  

Cobb comes to say his goodbyes and return the beskar armor to Din as agreed upon, and you sincerely hope that your paths cross with the Marshal again in the future. Stubbornness and hot headedness aside, the man has a good heart and he’s a good leader to his people.

*****

Soon enough Din is slowing the speeder bike down as Peli’s hanger comes into view, and you sigh with relief against his back. The prospect of being home sounds so lovely to your exhausted, overheated body. After going on what you easily consider to be your first true adventure, you’re ready to curl up in the cot with your Mandalorian pressed against you and your foster child in your arms as the three of you drift off into much needed sleep.

Din is still filthy from being inside the belly of the krayt dragon, and frankly he stinks to high heaven of the large sand creature, but you lay your head on his back regardless while he’s bringing the bike into a full stop just inside the hanger.

Peli is there to greet you with her small gaggle of droids.

“The Razor Crest is all tuned up for ya, Mando. My associate and I even upgraded a few of your more outdated parts, free of charge if you let me hold that womp rat for a while before you leave. In fact, you should stay for supper and leave in the morning! I’ll cook up some of that meat you have there and babysit him to let you two have some proper rest.” 

You climb from the bike, knowing full well that the green goop from Din’s clothing is now all over the front of you. You pluck the kid from Din’s satchel and give him a once over before handing the baby over to the eccentric little engineer. 

“Your associate?” Din asks skeptically, coming to stand next to you. “I thought all under your employ are droid.” 

“Oh did I not mention that before? I have another human working with me now. A business partner of sorts. That’s right, your old Peli here found herself a fella. Sorry you missed your chance, Mando.” Peli sends a wink your way, clearly joking. Then she bounces the kid in her arms while looking down at him. “And to think, I could have been your mama.” 

You can’t help but laugh a little and elbow Din in the side as you play along, “You didn’t tell me I had competition here on Tatooine, Mando.” 

To which, Din just sighs heavily and shakes his silver head.

Peli’s curly hair bounces as she laughs at the Mandalorian before going on, “Best engineer I’ve ever met, almost as good as me. He was off at the Tosche Station picking up power converters for me when you landed last week.” Peli turns to the Razor Crest and puts a hand to her mouth, “RICHARD! Come out here and meet the little green creature I told you about.” 

You’re completely taken aback when you hear the familiar name, feeling an odd pang of sadness. It’s not often that you meet people in the galaxy with a name that reminds you of Earth, but it’s also not entirely uncommon either. This one just happens to coincidentally remind you of someone you loved dearly. 

Then you see a man in his late sixties or early seventies emerge from the other side of the Razor Crest, wiping his oily hands on a rag. He’s got a prominent gray mustache and beard covering the lower half of  his wrinkled face and he’s wearing an engineer jumpsuit suit similar to Peli’s. He lifts the dark safety goggles to rest in his unruly gray hair as he approaches and when his face becomes completely clear to you, you nearly faint on the spot. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man says, stunned in his tracks as he looks directly at you. 

You must be having some sort of mirage experience from being in the heat of the binary suns for too long. This can’t possibly be real. 

“Mando, is that guy really standing there or am I hallucinating?” You whisper to your beskar clad best friend with wide eyes.

“He’s really standing there. Why? What’s wrong?”

“I think that’s my fucking grandfather.” 

*****

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

*****

Taglist:

@luc-k-y | @theslytherinwriter | @somewereinthegalaxi | @leithatnight | @missbabyjay | @theyoutubedork

*****

[mogai-sunflowers]

aurethesia coining to-do list!

aurethi related to…

being an auroracore enchantress

violin music

flute music

pastel rainbow waterlilies

auroracore waterlilies

lindsey Stirling music, music videos, and aesthetics

the scene in ‘abominable’ where Yi plays her violin in a snowstorm

auroracore skies with sparkly auroracore rainbows

sparkly auroracore roses

pastel rainbow roses

sparkly auroracore butterflies

sparkly auroracore dragonflies

starry auroracore skies

starry pastel rainbow skies

auroracore-themed flowers

auroracore + spacecore

auroracore + sparklecore

auroracore + crystalcore

auroracore themes of the sea

an auroracore enchantress emanating auroracore energy/power in an auroracore sky

being an auroracore muse

ethereal music

auroracore twilight aesthetics

ethereal fantasy/auroracore landscapes

crystals, sparkles, magic powers, magic princesses, sparkly auroracore rainbows, and the sky

the following words: etherea, aurora, enchantress, crystal, fantasia, fantasy, magical, mystical, whimsical, fairytale, daydream, everafter, foreverafter, evermore, forevermore, foreverglow, afterglow, wonderland, flower, fleur, petal, lily, waterlily, rose, lavender, iris, blossom, star, stargaze, starlight, starcrossed, starshine, starglow, starchild, luna, moon, moonlight, moonglow, moonchild, moonrise, sunrise, dawn, sunset, day, heaven, haven, realm, sunkissed, dreamy, darling, sky, sweet, dainty, delicate, gentle, tranquil, peace, serene, paradise, romance, aura, lullaby, symphony, serenade, song, melody, harmony, siren, luminous, maiden, belle, dear, grace, hope, lovely, morning, majesty, reign, princess, goddess, fae, fairy, fairyland, storyland, storyteller, story, imagine, imagination, divine, rosetta, morningstar, fate, charming, dreamland, celestial, destiny, idyll, enamor, amore, aerial, wanderlust, bluebird, songbird, birdsong, hypnosis, twirl, romance, effervescent, eloquent, evanescent, serendipity, solitude, ephemeral, kiss, eden, ether, aether, garden, elixir, legacy, legend, eveningstar, illusion, sparkle, glimmer, shimmer, midnight, myth, lore, folklore, rainbow, hiraeth, quest, prophecy, dragonflight, dragonfly, butterfly, willow, aspen, juniper, meadow, artemis, echo, death, everlasting, primrose, nyx, lyric, galaxy, rain, mirror, eternia, and glow

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

the following SPOP characters/things: Glimmer, Angella, Light Hope, Swift Wind, Mermista, Perfuma, Spinnerella, Netossa, Mara, Bright Moon, the Sea Gate, the Enchanted Forest, the planet Etherea, the SHERA transformation sequence, Mystacor, the SPOP finale, the episode ‘Princess Prom’, the stars in Etherea and what they represent, the SPOP theme song (Warriors), the song ‘Battle For Bright Moon’, the song ‘Ties that Bind’, and the entire SPOP soundtrack

barbie fairytopia

barbie mermaidia

barbie fairytopia magic of the rainbow

elina from Barbie fairytopia/mermaidia

the enchantress from Barbie fairytopia/mermaidia

barbie mariposa

barbie and the Diamond castle

the actual Diamond castle (and the scene where it finally appears) from Barbie and the Diamond castle

the muses from Barbie and the Diamond castle

the universe of tinker bell and especially pixie hollow

silvermist from tinkerbell

rosetta from tinkerbell

the owl house

The video games Ori and the Will of the Wisps and Ori and the Blind Forest

Masque dragon from Dragon Vale

the game Omori

the game Genshin Impact

the game ethereal legends

the game league of legends

the game legend of zelda

MLP

princess Celestia from MLP

Twilight sparkle from MLP

Midnight Sparjle from MLP

princess luna from MLP

the character Sisu from Raya and the Last Dragon

the light fury from HTTYD

the soundtracks of: Raya and the Last Dragon, Abominable, the Ori games, smallfoot, Hobbit/LOTR, Narnia, HTTYD, and Frozen/Frozen 2

the following geometry dash levels and soundtracks: back on track, Time Machine, theory of everything, theory of everything 2, electroman adventures, and hexagon force

ethereal island from my singing monsters

the following songs- crystallize, elements, the phoenix, foreverglow, aurora, stars align, take flight, artemis, guardian, between twilight, something wild (acoustic), lost girls, shadows, love goes on and on, where do we go, what you’re made of, song of the caged bird, and first light by Lindsey Stirling, STAR WALKIN, aurora, lonely world, the ritual, the spectre, SOS, parachute, satellite, pretty, MONUMENT, remember, weightless, forever, forgettable, alkaline, alchemy, radioactive rain, wonderland, strange utopia, ignite, world we used to know, pixies parasol, play, melodies, faded, alone pt. 2, hold on to your love, paper planes, are you happy, break with me, slow, wild enough, lead the way, wonderful life, for you, shine your way, remember, blue, free, how, if you believe, kings and queens, this is the hunt, war of hearts, nightshade, fragile world, show yourself, new way home, lily, different world, end of time, dark side, close your eyes, loyal brave and true, connected, believe, and starlight brigade

the show “trollhunters”

most of these will be posted on @auroras-kiss ! tagging @neopronouns @nepetaisms @queerliom @dreamythism @delusielle !