#odona | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writerlyhabits · 9 months ago

Text

Aliit ori’shya tal'din

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Your second day in the covert reveals both new and familiar faces; hospitality and hostility.

Chapter 3 of the Shereshoy series | Masterlist | Ch. 2 | Ch. 4

Warnings: lots of Mando’a, mild language, soft Din, awkward Din, protective Din [he’s got a wide range, okay?], original Mandalorian characters… maybe a little bit of angst? It’s mostly worldbuilding, so I think that’s about it.

AN: A word from the author – “I’m in grad school, I take forever to write things.Soon I will start grad school again, which means I’ll write this instead of my dissertation. I’m quite fond of the Mando Legends Lore, if you haven’t noticed. I literally got Kad Ha’rangir & Arasuum tattooed on me.”

This is the third part of a sister fic for my one-shot (Courting) a friend of mine wrote based on this request, and I’m so happy she’s letting me share it with you guys! She is also sharing it on AO3, so be sure to send her your love and kudos there as well! We hope you enjoy 💛

Translations, in order of appearance:

Aliit ori’shya tal'din: Family is more than blood

Rejorhaa'i kaysh murcyur gar shupur’ika?: Are you gonna tell her to kiss your ouchies?

Cuyi ulyc, vod.: Be careful, sister.

Aliit: family

Ad(e): child/children

Kar’ta beskar: the central "diamond" of Mandalorian armor; lit. heart armor

Mirjahaal: peace of mind, "healing", general term for emotional well-being especially after a trauma or bereavement

Beroya: bounty hunter

Kurshi: tree

Sen’tra: jackpack

Buir(e): Parent/Parents

Akaanati'kar'oya: The War of Life and Death (Mandalorian myth), creation story

Verd'goten: a special trial for one to become warrior; lit. birth of warrior

So'haale: births

Urman'gedete: prayers

Eparave: feasts

Cyarir evaar'la: Courting

Alii'aliit: meeting of the clans, the closest thing mandalorians have to government or parliament; lit. "clan of clans"

Tsad: group (of people), alliance

Bes'ede: Mythosaur

Kandush : inevitable doom

Time moves differently underground.

With Odona, the hours passed quickly. As a team, you could disassemble and reconstruct nearly any ship in their small fleet, save for a few parts— which no one had yet found and delivered. The days were faster when the guardsman opted to join you in his free time, his first visit and subsequent dialogue with Odona still memorable.

To what do I owe the displeasure; Oh Mighty Protector of the Covert and Savior of Foundlings?

The pleasure of my company is for your friend, ‘Dona.

Why? Going to terrorize her again, Ik’? Ven’rejorhaa'i kaysh murcyur gar shupur’ika?

Cuyi ulyc, vod.

You had sensed there was a joke hidden within their jibes, one you were unable to decipher in their foreign tongue, but neither took the time to explain. Whilst Ikarus lacked use for the labor that required fine motor control, his presence disrupted the monotony of the many tedious and repetitive tasks you and Odona spent much of your time doing— their frequent banter kept you entertained throughout the day.

The time you had spent in the medbay was shorter— the most common injuries coming from the older adolescents early on in their training, whose resilience and constitution had yet to strengthen— as well as wrist and ankle sprains from poor fighting forms, the occasional laceration from knife safety training; and at worst, injuries from the teens and young adults earned from a vigorous sparring session.

But with Din, the mornings and evenings together never felt long enough. The hours were reminiscent of your time with him and the Child in the Crest, the warmth of your aliit protected by familiar cold walls; the stone of the cavern both analogous yet antithetic to the durasteel of your former home.

One forged of hands, and the other of time— one of the fires of a furnace, the other the fires of a planet’s mantle. Your time together before was that of contrivance, engineered— with agendas to follow and assignments to complete— your interactions affable yet somewhat artificial, a present barrier precluding your companionship from evolving into something more… More natural, more innate, more intimate. Here, your time together had been more candid, endearing— Din no longer shied away from any probing questions or physical closeness, which allowed that previous barrier to melt and slowly flow away like that of bedrock to magma, reshaping and remolding your times of leisure together to hours of unified repose.

The hours turned to days, the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turn to this moment, where seemingly no time passes at all— blanketed in the familiar darkness of your room. The unlit and chilled space, at first an unacquainted oddity, now a comfortable companion to spend the sleeping and waking hours in. The ritual remains the same— awaken with the Child, have the morning trade-off with Din, make the caf, and begin the tasks for the day— like clock work, a well-oiled droid.

This morning is almost no different, and yet, you hesitate to leave your bed, your conversation with Din the previous morning still fresh in your mind—

Din had sat aside the table, his body resting against the wall— unarmored, arms crossed, head tilted to the side, the same position as every morning. Once you handed him the Child and sat, caf in hand, he finally spoke.

“I’d like you to join me tomorrow,” he stated.

The lack of pleasantries from him was unsurprising, though a teasing ‘Good morning to you, Din’ was a tempting response. Instead, you greeted him with a grin and an unobjectionable reply—

“Alright, what are we doing?”

He hummed, pleased with your immediate acceptance.

“The adults alternate supervising the ade. Tomorrow, it’ll be our turn.”

You gestured toward the Child in his arms, in a playful retort. “Don’t we supervise this ad every day?”

The Child cooed in his arms, his ears perked tentatively at his mention. Din sighed, with a smile in voice.

“We do. It’s tradition for all of the adults to care for the ade… All have wisdom to share.”

Skeptical, you thought: ‘What would I possibly teach them?’

You observed the Child resting so comfortably on Din’s chest— his tiny hand gripped tightly into Din’s clothes, right where his armor’s kar’ta beskar normally sat. It was a stark contrast compared to the Child’s behavior upon your first meeting. With any loud noises and sudden movements, he would shrink inwards in his cradle— as if he could make himself any smaller. Medical scanners made him grimace, unfamiliar places and people made his ears droop— seeing others upset made him wary. And yet, he was endlessly curious. Despite his initial unease with the two new adults in his life, the Child was quick to trust you both— and with his trust, his personality came through… his affection, his laughter, his love.

From there, Din learned how to tend to someone outside of himself— what it meant to have someone that relied on him, and more colossally, someone that wanted Din, as he was. The Armorer branded him as the Child’s father, and the delighted squeal from the little one sealed the bond that Din had been trying to hide for so long. Just as the Child learned to trust Din with his welfare, so too did Din learn to trust the Child with his own mirjahaal.

Perhaps it wasn’t the lessons they taught, but rather the connection they made, and the wisdom they sought.

With this, the true question then inverted from the skeptic ‘what would I teach them’, to the sanguine ‘what will I learn?’...

“...When do we meet them?”

—

To the ade, the former beroya is nothing more than a tall kurshi fit to climb.

Somehow, Din appears endlessly patient and playful with all six of the young children. They utilize their limitless spurts of energy to continuously attack Din as a squad, bringing him to the ground— he’ll exclaim a faux wail, and collapse to his knees— and the collective giggles of the ade begin the cycle again.

Whenever a child grows tired of their battle, they come to you— wanting to be tossed into the air, or onto the nearest surface. Supposedly being gently thrown around aids in their brain development, and ‘it’s good practice for their first sen’tra flight’, Din tells you. The logic is questionable at best, but hearing their joyous squeals makes the ever-growing muscle fatigue worthwhile. Even the child of the Djarin clan is as equally amused, his own little spirit mightily lifted by the experience of being with other kids again.

During your time on Sorgan, the Child was happy to interact with the other children— but mostly, he watched them, rather than play. Perhaps he was still too shy or too wary to fully engage with so many people, but surrounded by these Foundlings now, he looks at home; like he belongs. Amidst this cohort, he’s made a new friend, Mara, the youngest of the lot. Her long and dark hair reminds you— and perhaps the Child— of Winta, Omera’s daughter. The two spent the most time together on Sorgan, and despite the little one’s inability to say, he misses her.

Mara and the Child sit away from the squad play-fighting Din, in front of the single wall of volcanic tuff— embellished with crimps and pockets, graven by many hands. You watch them, as they examine the wall, looking up and down, side to side. Your eyes travel upward to the small cavate, almost eight feet from the floor. You watch as Mara looks to the Child and nods, and begins her ascent up— using her fingers and toes to grip tightly onto the various crevices in the wall— and the Child begins to follow.

You step forward, almost instinctively, wanting to call out to them to stop, wanting to reach out to the children to prevent a fall—

Then, from nowhere, Din appears at your side, extending his hand to stop you. “Don’t,” he says softly, “Let them try.”

You look at him puzzled, and he continues. “If you distract them now, they might fall…” he pauses, and turns his head to watch them, “...but if you allow them to focus, they can succeed. Watch…”

The pair silently step closer, closing the distance between themselves and the wall, watching the two ade slowly make their way up to the cavate. Mara climbs inside first, and lays on her belly, reaching out to the Child to help him trek the final span of the wall. Once inside, the Child turns around, to face the entire room below him. He squeals a little clamor of excitement, proud of his triumph, before looking down to his buire.

“Good job, kid,” Din says. “Come on down, it’s time to go.”

The Child looks at you both doe-eyed, his ears drooping, as he peers over the ledge. He looks back to Mara, and back down over the ledge, contemplating his next move.

You lean slightly towards Din, speaking in a hushed tone. “I don’t think he knows how to get back down.”

“He can do it,” Din says confidently.

You challenge him, “He looks scared.”

Din insists, “Then he’ll do it scared.”

He steps forward once more, his body almost pressed against the wall, reaching one hand up. “Come on kid, climb down.”

The child’s ears droop even lower, letting out a quiet whimper, a little anxious look on his face. He looks back up to Mara, who gives him an encouraging “You can do it,” before he finally begins his descent towards you and Din.

Carefully, his little clawed feet grip into the same pockets he used to climb up, and his hands hold onto the ledge. He looks down at his buire with a slightly quivering lip, then back up to his hands. Slowly, he presses on, his movements deliberate and cautious, gravity tugging at his little limbs with relentless persuasion, clammy clawed-hands threatening to slip free from the cold stone. His disgruntled babbling fading with each tentative step, footfalls growing more steady with every downward stride.

His little foot finally reached something soft— the hand of his buir, waiting for his arrival. With an excited squeal, he looks to Din, holding out his clawed fingers for Din to grasp. Din takes the Child into his arms.

“Good job… I knew you could do it.” Din whispers to him.

With his ad in hand, Din looks back to the cavate, where Mara sits silently. “You too, Mara, come down,” he says.

Mara, unlike the little one, is less graceful, only climbing down two feet of wall before leaping off. You instinctively reach your arms out to catch her, but are a few seconds too late, as she lands confidently on her feet, smiling up at you. She giggles, asking the Child “Wasn’t that fun!” and the little one cooing affectionately with a bright smile.

“They need to rest.” Din says, before leading Mara and the Child back with the other ade. You follow him in toe, and aid him while he attempts to settle the children in preparation for them to sleep.

The chamber is bathed in the soft, warm light of the cressets along the walls. The ade sit and lay in a circle on the floor, looking up at the two adults expectedly, waiting for you both to join them. Din gently places the Child in Mara’s lap, seating himself amongst them.

The ade demanded a story before they would agree to their midday nap, and with only one long sigh, Din relented. As you sit beside him, the tale of Akaanati'kar'oya begins.

—

In ages past, when cosmic realms were naught,

Two gods emerged, each with a purpose sought.

Kad Ha'rangir, embodiment of change,

A dance of growth, His essence did arrange.

Arasuum, the god of slow decay,

In stillness thrived, where life would fade away.

Eternal foes, in battle they engaged,

Ideals clashed, the cosmic script was paged.

Kad Ha'rangir, with eyes of vibrant light,

Envisioned galaxies in endless flight.

His very step, a ripple through the void,

Transforming all, where life and change enjoyed.

Arasuum, with eyes as deep as night,

Desired a realm where stasis held its might.

Decay His touch, a silent, withering breath,

A universe in stillness, touched by death.

In ceaseless clash, their cosmic struggle roared,

A dance of gods, where destinies were stored.

Stoic truths emerged from this grand design,

A tale of action, life's breath so divine.

"For action is the breath that life bestows,

A vital force, as mighty river flows.

Inaction, slow demise, a creeping shade,

A silent death in stillness' dark cascade."

Through galaxies and time, the story spread,

Of Kad Ha'rangir, where change was bred.

Arasuum's touch, a cautionary tale,

A realm in stillness, where all things frail.

So heed the moral, in verses spun,

That action is life, beneath the sun.

For inaction's grasp, a silent breath,

A slow demise, an encroaching death.

—

The ade rest together in a haphazard heap of limbs on various bedcovers and furs draped across the floor. Exhausted from their Beroya Battles and abseil adventures, they finally sleep, leaving the two adults to quietly watch over them together. In the chamber’s silent embrace, the air hangs heavy and chilled— a symphony of stillness envelops the room, broken by the muted shuffle of shifting bodies, and the hushed breaths of the ade. The only audible rhythm is that of the pulsating cadence of your own heartbeat and the rush of blood moving inside your head.

Your eyes scan over the ade, finding a sense of calmness watching their steady breaths, in… out.

In… out.

Your gaze once again falls onto the Child, cuddled against Mara, also breathing steadily. In the gentle cradle of his friend’s arms, he looks peaceful. Had he ever slept this soundly on the Crest?... Who held him every night before us? Who will take care of him after us?

In the softest whisper, to not disturb the ade, you lean closer to Din, telling him the obvious— “He’s happy here.”

“...Yes,” Din replies, just as quietly.

“Was this your experience, too? After the Mandalorians saved you?”

“No.”

His visor is trained on the little one’s sleeping face—the same face of a child who was once trapped in the suffocating darkness of a sealed cradle—a cage, a cage whose opening only revealed another prison, in the form of two bounty hunters hovering over him like… a B2 Battle Droid, with a blaster pointed in a child’s face. A child rescued from death at the last possible moment by a shiny warden, offering an adiaphorous detainment.

“It was… a time of war. I was trained to fight in it. I hope… that they never have to.” Din says, his gaze scanning over the ade once more.

“I thought all Mandalorians were warriors.”

He, too, believed the same notion for many years. Training from the day he was rescued to the day he became an adult, after his verd'goten, life became a perpetual streak of jobs. Commission, retrieval, payment. Commission, retrieval, payment… Until a strange, golden, aureate armorsmith joined his tribe, bringing tales of the “Great Forge of Mandalore,” and the songs of the artificers that echoed through the speos as they worked. He remembers the first time he kneeled in front of her small, austere forge, in a dark room beneath a busy market above, listening as she spoke of the ethos, the rites, the latria, the true way of the Mandalore.

“No. Everyone is trained to survive. But… we used to live, too.”

“...Until Mandalore was taken.”

“Yes.”

So'haale, urman'gedete, eparave, cyarir evaar'la, alii'aliit… A cultus he could only dream of, but never truly have. Spoken knowledge fades into whispers, slipping through his fingers like sand as the voices of the ancestors grow ever fainter. Each decampment a dissolution of tsad res publica, each step forward a battle against oblivion.

“I’m sorry.” You lean over, resting your head on his pauldron. “...Maybe there’ll come a time when we’ll live in the light, on a planet that welcomes us.”

Din knows that within every Mandalorian is a patchwork of unfamiliar faces and ever-changing landscapes, their solace and safety as elusive as a bes'ede itself—and yet they endlessly repugn the kandush they have faced time and time again, guided by the conviction that within the uncertainty of the cosmos lay the promise of a sanctuary forged from the resilience of their spirit.

He tilts his head, resting it atop yours. “There will.”

Ali'nare vencuyanir yaim. This is the Way.

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

To show this author your direct support, go ahead and check this story out on A03 + leave some kudos and a nice comment 💜

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mando'a #original mandalorian character #shereshoy #shereshoy series #not my writing #i have permission to post this

55 notes · View notes

spirksworld · 2 years ago

Text

NOW WAY they insisted that only Captain Kirk of the starship Enterprise be the one to beam down bc the only chance they had of someone falling so in love with Odona (and therefore staying with her forever so he can provide his blood) is the horniest starship captain in the fleet

They heard of Kirk’s endless capacity for love and kidnapped his ass

#little do they know all this apparent horniness is also the result of his fantastic ability to seduce women to gain knowledge #Star Trek #tos #kirk #ep 16 s 3 #The Mark of Gideon #Captain Kirk #james t kirk #talking

13 notes · View notes

kwebtv · 2 years ago

Photo

Sharon Acker (April 2, 1935 – March 16, 2023) Film, stage, and television actress and model. She appeared mostly on television in Canada and the United States from 1956 to 1992. She played Della Street, Perry Mason's loyal secretary, in The New Perry Mason opposite Monte Markham.

She appeared in a 1961 Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) production of Macbeth with Sean Connery, directed by Paul Almond.

Her first American film appearance was in the John Boorman cult action film Point Blank (1967) starring Lee Marvin and John Vernon. From that point, Acker appeared in film and television roles in Canada and the United States. In 1969 she guest-starred in the Star Trek episode "The Mark of Gideon" as Odona, a young woman who chooses to sacrifice herself by introducing disease to her overpopulated planet. In 1976–77 she portrayed Helen Walling in the prime-time drama Executive Suite. She appeared in two roles in two episodes of The Rockford Files in 1978 and 1979. She made her last feature film appearance in 1981 and her last television appearance in 1992. (Wikipedia)

IMDb listing

#Sharon Acker #TV #Obit #Obituary #O2023 #The New Perry Mason #Star Trek #The Rockford Files

4 notes · View notes

444names · 2 days ago

Text

Names generated from Greek forenames and all possible anagram words from the phrase "Sator Arepo tenet opera rotas"

Aaarataste Acoloe Adoxios Aetratsa Afkois Agdimias Aggelos Aiones Alefthy Alense Alinapters Aline Alios Aliss Amarratter Ambosen Angess Anicos Annios Anoon Anott Ansens Anters Antetrota Antos Apens Aports Appeater Appeer Appests Apreans Aprepason Aproporat Apsoners Arana Areataret Aresra Arikarat Arnes Aronspates Aroters Arreans Artre Aspes Assan Astorent Ateatee Aterot Atort Atoterate Atoulosa Atpos Atrasapots Atteses Caleasort Caler Charoser Chlos Chrios Chroatte Coserreps Covos Crignaters Demet Demis Diaki Diastorrer Diotian Dmicos Docia Drons Eanor Eatents Eatrans Eatter Efthi Einatt Eleki Elidanar Emili Enases Entangele Enteper Entoss Eorys Eretus Eteat Etenes Etrosters Ettee Gelefsia...

Iacharps Ianseatene Ipperres Ipprasten Iriphi Junots Kattes Khars Kolanis Kyroper Lalexiona Lallents Leksia Manoos Manotten Marpon Medamakose Melpocra Menosa Mirios Myris Myroto Nagaton Narappors Nason Naterser Neenosts Nestoe Netetan Nichalian Nioaton Norterios Oanto Oapper Oasimira Odokistas Odona Odosserres Odysilis Onarot Ootters Openatee Opern Opers Opestenets Ophare Oporot Opsterne Oratterr Oregos Orinemmar Orter Orterters Ortone Paearon Pamilia Panasper Paness Panorer Pante Panters Paraters Pareon Pareona Parestera Pareston Parina Parne Parre Parrou Partans Partat Pasorter Patantoo Patates Patimiten Pator Patortars Pattearnes Pattersots Peappasea Pearnos Peepeers Peere Peneetrant Peppea Peptos Perapos Perapper Perentesta Perres Pesses Pestearia Pestenos Petatter Phaddast Phears Phocre Phoukarpas Phoukars Pooers Poone Poopetaps Poopta Popra Poreppons Pornere Porra Porres Portne Portser Postamar Postios Potepsons Poter Poterot Potios Potroterr Ppers Pranda Prapato Praport Prarepor Preanayia Preatot Preer Prenatt Prentoopes Prents Preodios Preper Prera Prerer Prers Pressia Prestesers Prestest Prooper Propara Propea Propers Propetons Prophios Prophotees Propios Prostne Prota Protathon Proterse Protoos Protters Pstao Ptortes Rannioseto Raperis Rappoos Rapposes Raptne Raros Rator Ratortn Ratrot Reareort Reasetes Reens Reera Reessili Renatess Rentaset Renthi Rentote Reona Repars Reper Repers Repotens Repron Reren Rernernae Retents Retrert Rnobia Roarinagat Rodes Roestent Romelosept Romnathia Ronea Roneestres Rooto Roperathi Ropoters Ropten Roptone Rorassteer Roret Rosiosetra Rotapp Roter Rotoors Rotorra Rottoosse Saakos Saorreers Sapora Sappee Sares Sarre Saullida Seasili Seasses Seephiania Senass Senesse Senter Seppe Sereiosers Sereptorta Seronar Serras Seses Sestersons Smakoi Snasoaps Snaspeart Snator Snerateate Snosen Snostos Soape Soase Soast Soopeart Sopeaper Sophainoe Sorna Sorrae Sorsorenis Sosen Sosestar Sosetone Soteas Soteparas Sotina Sotoraters Spantser Spassappes Spast Spatorrers Speess Speno Spers Spida Spooni Spooppos Sporeser Sportes Spres Sproprot Ssorgion Stambos Stantors Stanuilis Stastan Staterigna Stattess Steargios Stena Stenthis Sters Stestas Steter Stonysso Stoon Stopere Storkatess Strena Streprorra Strer Takase Talika Tanagor Tapenis Tapests Tarandrate Taratern Tarini Tarta Tartaresso Tartort Tatat Tateasen Tatees Tatep Tatevasil Tathaikon Tattea Teastarro Teatera Teerapers Tenessers Tepeaste Teponer Ternee Ternsenet Terpens Teste Testops Tetoes Thaioni Thers Thimithara Thones Tinart Tinicala Tiriseanna Tners Toarr Todons Tofania Toree Torne Torser Torters Totopers Totorra Trantes Trappenos Tratas Tratras Tratters Treoner Treress Trettes Troata Tronars Troot Tropeats Troptorns Trotat Trotootets Vanes Xandorgios Xenseats Xents Xyllikla Yagasoto Yaneasens Yangeon Yanosiu Yiose Yitarros Zantenthia

#444 names #fantasy names #dnd names #fantasy name #444names #names #character names

1 note · View note

raurquiz · 9 months ago

Text

#remembering #sharonacker #actress #odona #startrek #themarkofgideon #AnneofGreenGables #theyoungandtherestless #streetlegal #murdershewrote #knightrider #galactica1980 #missionimpossible #SimonandSimon #QuincyME #FlamingoRoad #Threshold #TheLoveBoat #KattsandDog #startrek57

#remembering #sharonacker #actress #odona #startrek #themarkofgideon #anne of green gables #the young and the restless #street legal #murder sans #knight rider #galactica1980 #mission impossible #simonandsimon #quincyme #flamingoroad #threshold #the love boat #kattsanddog

0 notes

lenievi · 1 year ago

Text

I realized that the reason why I enjoy Kirk/Odona is because it isn’t bittersweet. They part, but it isn’t bittersweet.

It’s similar to my enjoyment of Kirk/Marlena, because even though Kirk leaves her behind, she doesn’t die, and Kirk... goes and flirts with her counterpart after he returns back to his own universe (Kirk and La’an just having similar experiences lol)

I do like the angst and bittersweetness of his other romances, but the one with Odona stands out because the episode and the romance leave Kirk smiling.

#tos nonsense

0 notes

mildi-mesei · 2 years ago

Text

0 notes

tos-fanart · 5 years ago

Photo

Odona Erte by Todosnuestrosayeres

#odona #the mark of gideon #todosnuestrosayeres

16 notes · View notes

startrekvsfaceapp · 5 years ago

Text

#star trek #faceapp #happy #kirk #jim kirk #captain kirk #james t. kirk #odona #original series #the original series #star trek the original series #star trek tos #the mark of gideon

18 notes · View notes

lightshiningforth · 7 months ago

Text

This isn't about Kirk drift, and I'm not calling Kirk a womanizer. He simply kisses many women, and a lot of those kisses look terribly uncomfortable:

youtube

And yet! Several of those women seem to like those kisses. Further, several do "come back for more," by which I mean not "maintain a relationship with Kirk" (none of them do) but rather "kiss or desire to kiss Jim again later in the episode."

Kirk kisses Andrea, the android in "What Are Little Girls Made Of?" to throw her off her rhythm, and it works. Later, when she mistakes Android Kirk for the real Kirk, their interaction goes like this:

Andrea: I will kiss you.

Android Kirk: No.

Andrea: You… you will not?

Android Kirk: It is illogical.

Andrea: *evaporates him with her phaser*

She enjoys that awful kiss so much that she kills (who she thinks is) Jim when he refuses to kiss her again.

In "Dagger of the Mind," Kirk is under the influence of the machine when he kisses Dr. Helen Noel. Beforehand, what exists between them is simply attraction and fantasizing. Afterwards, what exists between them is nothing, because they're professionals and they move on. That said, what Helen says when Jim kisses her is, "This isn't right, Captain." This isn't right, because you're not in your right mind. Not, I want you to stop squishing your whole head into mine. Inexplicably, Helen seems to like the way Jim kisses, too.

Lenore in "The Conscience of the King" has secondary motivation for kissing Kirk, just as he has secondary motivation for kissing her. She woos him because she wants to kill him, and he woos her because he wants to investigate her father. Regardless, she seems taken by him and like she enjoys the kiss, and appears genuinely betrayed when she realizes he has underlying motivations as well.

Areel Shaw in "Court Martial" is perhaps "coming back" more than anyone else. She's an ex-girlfriend from years ago who asks to kiss Kirk for old time's sake. She doesn't want to get back together, of course, and neither does he. But she must like the way he kisses (to be fair, their gentle onscreen kiss isn't particularly egregious).

Marlena in "Mirror, Mirror" is very interested in kissing Jim. Yes, she's Mirror Kirk's mistress, and we don't know how he kisses. But Marlena doesn't seem to have any complaints about our Kirk's kissing ability. She's suspicious that he's nicer than usual, that's all.

The way Kirk kisses Shahna in "The Gamesters of Triskelion" is especially awful - fingers digging into shoulders, face smashing, the works. Yet the trying-to-escape seduction works on her! They kiss multiple times, and Shahna even wants to follow Jim to the stars at the end of the episode.

Kelinda in "By Any Other Name," as mentioned above, likes the trying-to-escape kissing and comes back for more several times throughout the episode.

Miramanee in "The Paradise Syndrome" dumps her intended and marries and gets pregnant with the amnesiac Jim. They kiss frequently throughout the episode as she smiles and laughs and teases. The very definition of coming back for more.

Deela in "Wink of an Eye" kisses Kirk without his knowledge at first, and gets a proper kiss when he's trying to escape. She too prefers Jim to a man from her own people with feelings for her (chief scientist Rael) and wants to him as her mate, forever - coming back for more!

Elaan in "Elaan of Troyius" is attempting to manipulate Jim when they kiss, yes. But she seems genuinely affected by the prospect of letting him go to marry her intended.

Odona in "The Mark of Gideon" kisses Jim for manipulative reasons, also. Yet she becomes smitten with him afterwards and wishes her overcrowded planet would hold one more person.

Rayna in "Requiem for Methuselah" is so affected by her kiss with Jim that it changes her android brain chemistry to understand love, and then she dies. Granted, that isn't exactly coming back for more, and Jim is the one being interested in and pushy with Rayna in this episode, not vice versa. It's one notably impactful kiss, regardless.

All in all, you can't deny that the show presents James T. Kirk as a pretty compelling kisser. What's hilarious is that his kisses don't look compelling in the slightest.

My friend and I were talking about this recently: Jimothy Timothy Kirk is not a good kisser. He grabs women by both shoulders and smashes his face into theirs. It doesn’t look sexy, or like it feels good. The attraction factor must be doing a whole lotta work to make the women in question want to come back for more.

#star trek tos #star trek #lighthearted tone here I just don't want to be misunderstood #Youtube

51 notes · View notes