#space cultures collide

[iguanodont]

The Monoculi (informally dubbed ‘peebs’) are not exactly a new species from me, but they’ve gone through a pretty drastic redesign since I last posted anything about them. These are a spacefaring species from the same universe as birgworld! Details under the cut.

The Monoculi are so-called for the large compound eye that comprises the “head”. The densely packed ommatidia allow for crisp image resolution, and a variation in the depth of the lenses give the eye a range of acuity from only a few feet along the lower half to hundreds of meters along the top. Monoculi are nocturnal creatures which evolved to navigate complex cave systems by day and tangled branches by night; they have good depth perception and low-light vision but are nearly blind in regular daylight, and cannot perceive color.

The Mono homeworld is peculiar for the presence of a ring, the remnants of two moons which collided early in the planet’s history and bombarded the surface with chunks of space rock long after the planet’s crust had cooled. The result is an unusual abundance of heavy metals in the environment. Iridium, a prohibitively rare mineral on earth, comprises orange-yellow compound which carries oxygen through a Monoculus’s veins. The ring itself also has drastic effects on seasonal surface temperatures, though as on birgworld, life there has adapted accordingly.

Monoculi molt to grow like earth arthropods, but they only do so one segment at a time. A newborn larvae, one of 2 - 5 siblings, will remain soft and aquatic for about 8 months, until it loses its gills and hardens for the first time. They do not begin growing the first proper body segment until the thorax is as large as an adult’s. Molting and mating are both intimately tied to mineral pools found deep in their ancestral cave system. Without them, a molt will invariably fail and lead to severe health complications. Monoculi are hermaphrodites, and mate by pressing the gonopores (small openings under the first pair of arms) against the soft carapace of a first - third instar body segment, fresh after molting. The spawn will bore directly into the segment and trigger its transformation into a reproductive segment, which falls off after young are produced.

These sophonts are relatively large and long lived, with 200+ year old individuals sporting nearly 20 body segments not unheard of. They are also well into their space age, with a once-thriving space tourism industry buckled by a massive recession in recent decades. Rumour has it that several of the abandoned exoplanetary retreats still harbor stranded staff… but the company that built them dissolved and nobody has scraped up to funds for a rescue mission. They avoid contact with other sophonts, with the exception of the swimslugs, with whom they maintain a friendly cultural and technological exchange.

————

Btw, I do still post almost weekly sketches and worldbuilding notes on my patreon

[yourfatherlucifer]

Extraterrestrial (JYH)

Alien!Yunho x afab!reader

Summary: Your ship is on the brink of being forever lost in the galaxy, but when a monster invades your ship to top it all off, his plans for you are a cause for concern.

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, egg preg, alienxhuman sex, rough and mean Yunho, dead husband San, monster cock, tall ass Yunho

AU: Alien/Space

Genre: Smut

WC: 2.2k

Tags: For @potatomountain because I know you’ve been struggling lately, so I hope you can enjoy this with all your might. You deserve this. I love you, friend. This is longest I’ve written in so long..lol

Nets: @newworldnet

The rapid beeping of the ship was so overwhelming, the red lights were flashing in warning. The shaking was so powerful. If only you didn’t run into that asteroid belt earlier from running from a pirate space ship. With your crew still in cryogenic states, you could only handle this on your own.

You were the captain after all, the expert in the technology. Of course, you could’ve awoken your second in command but you didn’t want to bother them. The process was a painstaking one anyway.

The rattling was beginning to get annoying as you tried to do everything you could, “Dammit, come on!” You smacked the control panel, clearly getting frustrated.

There wasn’t another planet for several light years and that was so agitating. There was nowhere to stop to repair your ship. Even the hull was damaged, you were sure something fell off from the collision.

You were scared to death that your ship would explode and you’d never make it home. This expedition was supposed to save you from your dying planet to find a new one.

You reached down to kiss the photo necklace wrapped around your neck. It was of your dead husband, San. He was an astronaut explorer as well. But his ship was lost and he never made it back home. You could only assume he was dead. It’s been a year after all. So you took this mission upon yourself, in hopes of finding him or a new planet for your human population to live on. You wanted to make your husband proud.

“I’m so sorry, Sannie, I’ve failed us both and our planet.” A tear fell down your cheeks as your fist collided against the console in frustration.

A flash passed by your ship but you didn’t even notice, too busy focusing on your impending death.

The beep stopped abruptly which made you look around confused, “The hell..?”

A couple of chittering sounds caught your attention and you spun around, only to be met with an eight foot tall hunched over alien. He..if it was a he, was beautiful. With his tanned skin and green scales, he looked almost human. If it wasn’t for the scales and tentacles coming out of his back and his ridiculously long legs, you would’ve thought it was someone from your crew.

So, how’d it get in?

“What..what do you want?” You backed up into the console, clearly confused and scared.

Was he here to eat you? To steal from you? Just what-

His face softened up with a smile, “I’m not going to eat you, so you can stop thinking about it. I’m not going to steal from you either.”

“Then what is it you want? I don’t have anything else to offer.” You crossed your arms over your chest, still not sure of his intentions.

“Well, I have a proposition for you, human.” His long legs carried him over to you, from there you could see his beautiful green eyes and somehow handsome face.

You’d never seen an alien up close, of course, back on earth, there was always talk of extraterrestrials but never any appearing despite the very popular pop culture of alien invasions. Even with the planet dying, there was none.

“Well, I’ll fix your ship for you. But.”

“But?”

“Let me impregnate you with my eggs. It’s my species mating season and unfortunately for me. I’m away from my planet and you’re the only near species I can copulate with. I have to get these eggs out or it’s painful for me. I’m not about to waste them either.” His eyes scanned your body, clear with interest.

“If I agree, you will one hundred percent fix my ship?” You had to admit, he was far too attractive to deny his offer.

“Yes, and I don’t break my promises. I’m desperate and you’re definitely the perfect specimen.”

You shrugged your shoulders and slipped off your shirt, “Alright, I don’t see why not then.”

He grinned in relief, watching as your breasts bounced in their final confines, “Perfect.”

He walked even closer, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you with ease to set you on the ships console, “I will warn you, I’m nothing like the human men you can have intercourse with. I’m far bigger. I might just break you.”

You licked your lips in excitement, “I don’t mind, the bigger the better.” You joked, trying to ease the tension.

“You say that, until I’ve fucked you full with my children.” He grabbed the strings of his loin cloth and it fell to the floor.

Your eyes widened at the sheer size of his length, he wasn’t lying. This was the biggest cock you’ve seen, probably even the prettiest. It couldn’t even compare to your deceased husbands cock. Even though he was big for your species. But this alien, was massive.

He looked like measured to at least 10 inches, if not more. The girth was crazy as well. Green scales lined the thick and spined base. Just like some spots on his body.

“Um..wow…” you were in complete shock, unable to tear your eyes away, until you felt something thick and slimy pull your head back up to face him. It was one of his tentacles.

“My name is Yunho. That is what you will scream as I breed you, got it?” His voice became stern and it was so attractive, you could feel yourself becoming a waterfall below.

Yunho growled as his nose turned up to sniff the air, “I can smell you human, your cunt is excreting such a sweet scent. I must ravage you.”

You whimpered with his words, “Please, tear me apart. I want to feel you.”

“Be patient, human. You’ll get it.” His fingers wrapped around the hem of your pants and yanked them down, along with your soaked underwear. He threw them to the captain's chair behind him and groaned in the new exposure of your scent.

Yunho’s face dove to the source, his tongue licking up a stripe between your folds. Gathering your slick on his wet appendage. He moaned in the flavor, “Oh, human. You have no idea how I’m going to ruin you. You will search the galaxy for me after I’m done with you.” His teeth sunk into the plush of your inner thighs, “You will continue to search for the same feeling I’m going to give you. And only will I return to collect my kin.”

You could only whine in response, tugging onto his black hair.

“You are nothing but a breedable toy for me. Nothing more, nothing less, do you understand that?”

“Yes, yes!”

His tongue encircled your weeping hole and prodded at your walls, he was enjoying this far too much. Your human sounds were delightful to his ears.

“Yunho!” You cried out when he moved away from your cunt to your thigh once again, planting his teeth into the skin. You could only assume this was his way of marking his mate.

“What are you?” You whined as he pulled away.

“I will never tell you my species name. I will not let you find me until I need to find you. This is a one in a change opportunity, hush before I change my mind.” Yunho’s eyes flashed over, warning you with ill intent, “I will not hesitate to leave you and your ship stranded.” He was mean but you loved it.

He eventually lost interest in eating your cunt out and moved his tentacle to replace his tongue instead. It was slightly thinner than his massive cock, so it must be used to prep you.

As it slowly slid inside, Yunho had stood up, pulling your hips closer to his to the point his cock rested against your abdomen. It was so big that it reached the valley of your breasts. Just how was he going to fit without rearranging your organs?

He watched as his tentacle slowly sank in, he could barely feel how you pulled him in. However he could feel just how tight you were. That was going to be a problem. So maybe two tentacles would have to stretch you out for him.

He groaned in thought, he didn’t expect having to do so much work for a human cunt to fit him and his eggs.

“Come on, stop being so tight, human.” Yunho’s grip only tightened as his tentacle tried to slither in further.

Once that one was settled in, another snaked around from his back all the way to your occupied cunt. It pushed its way in, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent scream.

“That’s more like it.” Yunho’s large hand reached to cup your breast while he felt your cunt loosen around him, “Soon I’ll be able to breed you.”

“I don’t care, just fuck me, Yunho, please!”

Yunho shrugged, “If you insist.” His two tentacles began pumping in and out, the sloshing sounds of your cunts arousal and the excrement excreting from his tentacles didn’t help.

He held you tight to his chest because you could barely sit up straight with the way he was fucking into you. It was even his cock yet and he had you weak.

You weren’t used to being so packed. Just the two tentacles combined were bigger than your husband's cock when he used to make love to you.

“Stop thinking of that human man. I’m the one fucking you. Get him out of your head.” He growled in warning.

“I can’t just erase my husband’s memory!”

Since the image wasn’t disappearing from your head, Yunho bit between your shoulder and neck, “I won’t tell you again.”

“Fine!” You tried to focus on the way his tentacles fucked in unison only for them to pull out and get replaced by his monster size cock instead.

This time a scream fell out of your throat, he was so big. Far too big. You could feel him ripping you apart from the inside. Even the bulge in your stomach from him was painful, but felt too good at the same time.

His hips slammed against yours with each thrust. The console creaked in protest.

Yunho’s grip was so tight that it was nearly painful but you didn’t care, not when your senses were dulling from the way his cock buried itself deep within your wet cavern.

“Yunho!” You cried out. He was being very rough with you. He manhandled you all the way to captains chair, planting himself in the seat.

He made your legs straddle him. You didn’t know how you were going to ride him, not with how weak you felt, “Come on, human, you can do it.”

You whimpered as you sunk yourself back down, legs shaking in protest.

Yunho grinned as he watched you struggle to take him, “Don’t be pathetic, I know you can do it.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders as you repeatedly fucked yourself on him, “It hurts so good.”

His free hand squeezed the bulge each time it appeared on your stomach. He was making it worse but you assume he did this to get it over with. You were sure it wasn’t pleasant for him to fuck a human much smaller than his alien form.

As you reached your nth orgasm, tears were flowing down your cheeks, how hadn’t he cum yet? Why weren’t you filled yet?

“You’ll get it soon, be patient, human. You’re so eager to carry my children.” This had him smirking. He wanted to ruin you.

His hips thrusted up to match your pace and help you along, “Doing so well, little human.” His reached back to grip your hair and yank it backwards, exposing more neck to him.

Yunho marked your neck with more bites and bruises, marking his territory for any other aliens passing by or anyone that invades this ship while he’s gone, awaiting for his children’s birth.

Once his thrusted started slowing down, that’s when you knew he was near. His cock began enlarging and your eyes widened in shock, “Oh fuck, Yunho!”

He stopped your movements and waited as his eggs flowed out his cock and into your cunt, all the way to your womb, “That’s right..take it all. Like the good human mother you will be.” His hand rubbed your stomach as it began swelling with several of his eggs.

He was proud. Very proud and felt relieved. Yunho we finally free of his pain and relieved for the future of his bloodline.

“My perfect breedable toy.” Once his cock returned to normal size, he slowly pulled out, watching as you became breathless. Nearly doubling over.

“So full..” you whined, holding your stomach with such care.

“Good.” He stood up and rested you where he once sat, “I’m going to leave now. I’ll repair your ship on my way out. I’ll return in a few earth months. Your pregnancy won’t be as long as the normal human one.”

You looked ethereal but he wasn’t going to stick around, not when his use for you was over.

“Yunho..” Your breasts were in pain, already trying to accommodate the eggs inside of you.

“Don’t do anything to my eggs while I’m gone, or I’ll destroy everything.” Yunho’s eyes narrowed, making his way to the exit.

“I won’t..”

“Good. Farewell human, await my return.”

[spicymotte]

I wanna know more about how Transformers seeing us like hamsters. Well to be more direct, I would like to hear more of your thoughts about humans and Transformers shenanigans or what not.

Aside from all the fighting against Decepticons and the usually very aggressive human military, I think Transformers and humans have an absolutely brilliant potential to coexist. Oh, and the fact that they probably find us tiny, organic creatures kind of cute is hilarious to me lol. What starts out as a huge underestimation on the part of the Transformers of humans, who have no advanced technology yet, becomes more as soon as both sides start to actually communicate with each other: I think it's clear from all the TF Media entries that humans make up for this disadvantage with their indomitable human spirit and wide range of emotions. So, in my opinion: the Autobots absolutely love humans. They really do. Humans are free and easy and incredibly entertaining - and also very, very strange. They have weird organic needs, social rituals as well as social structures; to any xeno-anthropologist, Planet Earth would be like Christmas a thousand times over lol. But these very complex social structures are exactly what the Autobots like so much about this young and inexperienced race. Despite their low level of technology and science, the human social veins are extremely mature, though still in a state of juvenile aggression and blindness. Despite these very problems, not unknown to the Transformers, the parallels are so clear and so poignant: in the end, it all comes down to the heart, or the spark, and what you make of what you have. The vast majority of humans choose compassion and sympathy, peace and unity - exactly what an advanced race should be doing. So the potential is undeniably there. So, yeah, I guess there are no limits to the shenanigans. As I am far from having worked my way through all the available media on the Transformers franchise (I am currently reading More Than Meets the Eye), I am looking forward to seeing what is yet to come. What I personally find most interesting are the little funny moments when cultures (mechanical/organic) collide - as well as the flip side of the coin, when humans are helplessly exposed to a gigantic robot conflict that has to take place here on Earth. Both are so much fun to think about and leave a lot of space for interpretations!

also this is literally any TF and his favorite human. fight me over this I dare you

[bamfkeeper]

Cooking with Kurt.

RQ: 'So, I’ve been thinking lately about cute ideas, and one of them is about cooking. Could you write a head-cannons (or a fic if you like the idea and want to be more in-depth) of Kurt and the Reader cooking? Kurt teaches the reader how to make certain German foods, and the Reader teaches Kurt some tricks too. Just the two bonding over cooking and praising and complimenting each other for their good jobs. I just find this to be adorable since cooking is a great way to share cultures and bond 🥧😋.' - @hulkingharbor

pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader | warnings: None

a/n: Stuck with headcannons because those are easy for me to write up. I have been neglecting this blog a bit I'm so sorry. I wanted to get some stuff out before I left for my trip. Unedited.

Kurt was over the moon when you expressed interest in his German heritage. Your curiosity about his roots had always been genuine, but when the topic turned to cuisine, his excitement reached new heights. The prospect of sharing his culinary traditions with you filled him with joy.

He saw cooking and baking together as a meaningful way to connect and create lasting memories, it was one of his love languages for sure.

The kitchen became a space where cultural exchange and personal bonding intertwined. Kurt's eyes would light up as he described the myriad of German dishes he was eager to introduce you to, each recipe carrying a story or a cherished memory from his past.

From hearty sauerbraten to delicate apfelstrudel, he had an extensive repertoire of flavors he couldn't wait to explore with you.

Kurt stood beside you, his lean body adorned with a whimsical apron that seemed almost comically out of place on his athletic frame.

His nimble fingers worked the dough with practiced ease, kneading it into submission. "I am beyond thrilled to be baking with you, liebe," he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "This is something I've been longing to do for quite some time now."

His golden eyes sparkled with joy as he spoke, his hands never ceasing their rhythmic motion on the precious dough. Meanwhile, you busied yourself with the task of slicing apples, the crisp sound of the knife against the cutting board.

"You look absolutely ridiculous," you chuckled affectionately, your eyes crinkling with mirth as you took in the sight of him in his frilly apron. The appearance of his muscular form and the dainty kitchen wear was too amusing to ignore.

Kurt was never one to back down from playful banter, he responded by sticking out his tongue at you in a childish gesture. His graceful tail swished mischievously behind him. You noticed that the tip of his tail had somehow managed to acquire a light dusting of flour.

Before you could react, his tail flicked swiftly in your direction, sending a small cloud of white powder flying towards you. It landed on your nose, a tiny puff of it exhaling as you snorted.

Kurt's laughter filled your ears, and you picked up some flour to combat him, his hands went up as he playfully begged you not to. "Nein! Nein, liebe! Flour and my fur do not mix!"

His pleading didn't deter you.

Flour collided with him and you both began a play fight of tossing the white ingredient at each other until you were covered in it.

Besides your little food fight, you both learned how to cook each others favorite meals. Kurt gladly taught you special recipes, and you baked delicious cookies and made warm meals to eat together.

You were surprised at how hearty his meals were, despite him being fairly lean. He blamed it on his metabolism.

Kurt loves to cook you food. Whenever you request a dish, he gets right on it and is so proud of the outcome. He always does his best and is very specific about the ingredients he uses. It has to be fresh and perfect for you.

Cooking and baking together became a cherished ritual, a delightful exploration of flavors and cultures. You take turns introducing each other to your respective backgrounds, eagerly sharing family recipes and cooking techniques passed down through generations.

The kitchen becomes a messy playground of creativity as you collaborate on fusion dishes, blending elements from both your culinary heritage.

Kurt's enthusiasm for cultural exchange is endearing, his natural curiosity and open-mindedness make him an eager student of diverse traditions and customs. He approaches each new experience with childlike wonder, whether it's trying an exotic spice or learning a traditional method of cooking. He's always ready to sample new dishes, no matter how unfamiliar.

Kurt's eyes always light up as he tastes your food. "Mein Gott, liebling! This food is absolutely wunderbar!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine awe. He affectionately nuzzles his head against yours, his tail instinctively curling around your waist to draw you closer.

The gesture of his tail is protective and intimate, a habit he formed long ago and you never broke it from him. "You must write down this recipe for me. I'd love to surprise you with it someday when you least expect it."

You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm, your heart warming at his sincere appreciation. "Of course, I'll write it down for you," you assure him, your voice soft with affection. "But I expect detailed instructions for all your culinary masterpieces too."

Turning in his embrace, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, your fingers tracing the unique patterns of his skin. "After all, I need something to tide me over when you're away on missions. Can't have me pining away with an empty stomach, can we?"

A mischievous grin spreads across Kurt's face, his golden eyes twinkling with a mixture of humor and desire. He leans in close, his lips barely brushing against yours as he speaks. The feather-light touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting a familiar warmth in your core.

"Oh, liebling," he purrs, his accented voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "When have I ever left you wanting for anything? I always make sure you're well-satisfied in every possible way~"

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight | Images found on Pinterest, I did not look for the specific comic Kurt's pic is from.

[gyorouis]

⭑.ᐟ ALUMNI HOMECOMING

⤷ have you ever been in loved? revisit the thrill of young love where romance and playful antics collide in the most delightful ways. each story unfolds with a blend of youthful emotions and unforgettable connections, turning every moment into a fascinating exploration of being in love.

TITLE TRACKS ˎˊ˗

CHOI YEONJUN

hopelessly yours (suitor!yeonjun) ⤷ yeonjun's charming efforts and heartfelt gestures finally gets you to say "yes."

CHOI SOOBIN

why i love you (bf!soobin) ⤷ after a heated argument, soobin gave you space knowing your coping mechanism is self-isolation.

CHOI BEOMGYU

biggest plot twist (playboy!beomgyu) ⤷ beomgyu’s playboy ways lead to a heartfelt confession when you left him.

KANG TAEHYUN (soon)

charmed & twisted (senior!taehyun) ⤷ when you thought that your club senior hates you, well it turns out...

HUENING KAI (soon)

jealous jams (jealous bf!kai) ⤷ he loves serenading you, but you didn't know that there's a reason behind it, until now.

gyo's note: hello everyone! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ this is gyo, and i wanted to take a moment to express my heartfelt gratitude for your incredible support ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! and for finding joy in my work. ૮꒰⸝⸝> <⸝⸝꒱ა i am deeply thankful for the chance to do what i love and share it with all of you. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ it means more than words can say. for this special project, i’m thrilled to share some of my favorite opm band songs ૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა˖⁺‧₊˚ and weave stories that reflect a little bit of what my culture looks like. thank you from the bottom of my heart. (,,>﹏<,,) you will be loved, xoxo!

jump back in to your daily playlist !

[short-wooloo]

Fuuuuuuuuuuuck off and fuck you leslye headland

According to a collider interview headland believes the Jedi represent straight men oppressing the Sith who represent queer women who just want to be free

The Jedi-a diverse, predominantly East Asian-inspired culture (with elements of Islam, Judaism, and other cultures) who preach tolerance, peace and acceptance-are oppressive straight (christian, she doesn't say it but it's obvious that's what she's implying) men

And the sith-a nazi inspired (the sith code is literally based off of mein kampf) death cult that believes they are the superior life forms of the universe and that they are entitled to kill take or enslave whomever and whatever they want because of their strength-are actually the poor oppressed queer women trying to be free

Y'know I don't know what's more insulting

Is it the intentional likening of the Jedi to homophobic bigots?

Or is it the blundering stupidity of likening queers to the space nazis?

[bayporwave]

Far beyond our reach, in the depths of space lies a world full of raptor-esqsue beings known as 'rakii'. They live upon a planet called Rek, orbiting a yellow star named Yil, settled far in a spiral galaxy called Tontor. Within the next 2-3 cosmic years, Tontor will collide with Arro, a neighboring one armed spiral. But that's not a worry to them at this time. Behold, all the various species throughout the planet of Rek. I shall now be working further on the very world around them and the stories of their unfortunate upbringings with false gods and societal stress as they are going through a culture shock.

[useless-catalanfacts]

Every year from mid-July to late-August there is the meteor shower that many cultures of South-Western Europe call "the tears of Saint Lawrence" (les llàgrimes de Sant Llorenç in Catalan).

Why are they called that?

Saint Lawrence is a martyr venerated by Christians. It's believed that he was one of the victims of Roman emperor Valerian's persecution of Christians, and the Romans burned him on a grill and then burned him to death at a stake. He was killed on August 10th of the year 258, and for this reason August 10th is Saint Lawrence's Day.

The peak point in the meteor shower is on the days around August 10th, the day of Sant Lawrence's feast. People would see that, on the night he was remembered, there were comets in the sky. These comets are said to be the tears that Saint Lawrence cried when he was being burned on the grill. The tears, falling to the fire, come back on the sky every year.

What actually are these shooting stars?

Here is how NASA explains this phenomenon:

Meteors come from leftover comet particles and bits from broken asteroids. When comets come around the Sun, they leave a dusty trail behind them. Every year Earth passes through these debris trails, which allows the bits to collide with our atmosphere and disintegrate to create fiery and colorful streaks in the sky. The pieces of space debris that interact with our atmosphere to create the Perseids [=the tears of Saint Lawrence] originate from comet 109P/Swift-Tuttle. Swift-Tuttle takes 133 years to orbit the Sun once. [... It] last visited the inner solar system in 1992.

[cyberpunkonline]

Ghosts in the Machine: A Psychedelic Voyage through Hauntology, Internet Culture, and the Cyberpunk Specter

Once upon a time, in the neon-lit underbelly of cyberspace, there existed a curious phenomenon—a trippy trinity of hauntology, internet culture, and the ghost of cyberpunk. It's a mind-bending journey through the digital rabbit hole, where reality and nostalgia collide in a kaleidoscopic whirlwind of memes, memories, and mayhem.

Picture this: Jacques Derrida, the French philosopher extraordinaire, drops the term "hauntology" like a linguistic bomb, sending shockwaves through the space-time continuum. Suddenly, the past isn't just history—it's a spectral presence, haunting our collective consciousness with its fragmented echoes and retro reverberations.

Meanwhile, in the wild, wild west of the internet, a strange and wondrous culture emerges—a melting pot of memes, cat videos, and conspiracy theories swirling in the digital ether. It's a place where anonymity reigns supreme, and the only currency is attention. Welcome to the cyber circus, where anything goes and everything's up for grabs.

But wait, lurking in the shadows of this digital dystopia, is the ghost of cyberpunk—an enigmatic specter born from the fevered imaginations of William Gibson and Philip K. Dick. It's a world of hackers, hustlers, and high-tech heists—a neon-lit noir nightmare where the only law is the code.

Now, imagine these three forces colliding in a psychedelic showdown of epic proportions. It's like Hunter S. Thompson meets William S. Burroughs in a smoky dive bar at the edge of the digital frontier. Reality bends, time warps, and the boundaries between past, present, and future blur in a technicolor haze.

In this brave new world, nostalgia isn't just a feeling—it's a weapon, wielded by hackers and hipsters alike in their quest for authenticity in a world of simulacra. The internet becomes a virtual playground, where identities are fluid, and reality is up for grabs.

And amidst the chaos and confusion, the ghost of cyberpunk whispers its ominous warnings of a future gone awry—a cautionary tale of corporate greed, technological hubris, and existential despair. It's a reminder that the utopian dreams of the digital age are just as fragile as the dystopian nightmares.

So, buckle up, dear reader, and prepare for a wild ride through the haunted halls of cyberspace. Because in the weird and wacky world of hauntology, internet culture, and the ghost of cyberpunk, the only certainty is uncertainty.

[bi-hop]

why the vulture scene in atsv is pure horror (spoilers under the cut)

As promised, I now have the mental bandwidth to actually talk about Adriano Tumino aka the Medieval Vulture in Across the Spiderverse. This is a spoiler fest, so I'm putting everything under the cut. Enjoy!

So, at some point when I was younger, I first heard about Flatland. It's this satirical novella from 1884. When I was looking it up again last night to prepare myself to explain it to other people, I was SHOCKED to hear it was satire on Victorian society and class structures. I had only ever heard about it in science and horror spaces. As a work, it's mainly known now for exploring the idea of 4th dimensions before Einstein, but it also continues elements that are straight out of horror. So, instead of breaking down the whole thing, I'm going to be focusing on that stuff specifically.

Flatland is about A. Square (yes, that's his name), who is a square. As you can imagine, his entire world is two-dimensional and functions as such. There's a lot of worldbuilding, but just keep in mind that

The people in his world cannot conceive of a 3rd dimension, and any mention of such is heretical.

Circles are the highest ranked people in this world.

One day, he encounters what he thinks is a circle. Said character is actually a sphere. Even as said sphere fucks with his perception by looking like disks sliding in and out of reality and tells him about the 'truth' of the world, A. Square can't comprehend the third dimension until his teacher lifts him into it, into Spaceland. The square is enlightened! His mind has been opened! He tells the sphere, if his reality is false and there's truly a third dimension, what if there are more? What if a fourth dimension exists with fourth dimensional beings who cannot be accurately perceived?

His teacher immediately casts him back down into Flatland, where he is subsequently imprisoned. No one believes that the third dimension and Spaceland exist. He only is able to write the novella and hope that one day Flatland will be ready for this knowledge.

All of this to say that Adriano is A. Square.

I read a lot of dimension-based horror. Maybe it's because the multiverse has compelled me since I was a kid, or maybe it's because I've heard way too many thought experiments about how every person on the planet may see the world differently, and we just use the same language to describe fundamentally different visuals because we can't accurately verify anything. The horror of it all, for both readers and writers, isn't necessarily the idea of seeing things others can't. At least, it's not in the hands of someone sincerely thinking about the 'eldritch'. Instead, imagine a higher being grabbing you and exposing you to a whole new, weighty aspect of reality you could never conceive without actively being dragged into it. And then you're thrown back into your reality. It consumes you, drives you, and no one believes you. How can they, when it's something so alien to your reality that no one can even think of it unless shown?

Because of the ripple effects of the collider, Adriano Tumino is dragged into Earth-65, the home of Spider-Woman (Gwen Stacy). We don't know a lot about his world. As far as I remember, we don't even get a number designation. But his design, dialogue, and track all communicate a great deal about him. Vulture Meets Culture as a track blends Gwen's theme with the sort of opera he might listen to back home. He's designed heavily on the aesthetics of Da Vinci notebooks. As he affects the world, you can even see notations a la research scribbles next to diagrams. From memory alone, disregarding the fact that he's Italian (though I'm sure the insistence on English in Earth-65 was probably disorientating if his entire world speaks Italian), he also finds this new reality to be abhorrent and lashes out. This alone, an exposure to new colors and strange art and even weirder people who look nothing like you and the rest of your world, would be hard enough to cope with.

And then Miguel, this Spider-Man from 2099, drags Adriano out into the modern day.

The thing with movies being in theaters is that I'm at the mercy of random people who film showings on their phone to get footage. Because everyone finds the helicopter scene directly after this more interesting (which is valid), I don't have a picture of this moment. But when Adriano is flying out into this future, when he lays his eyes on these towering skyscrapers alight with color, you can see his shock, perhaps even terror. It'd be rough enough being exposed to a version of Italy that's, say, his time period but in technicolor. But this is worse. This is his Spaceland moment. The opera builds almost mournfully.

Soon, he will be sent back to his reality. This will happen in an even more incomprehensible future dimension, with even more people who look nothing like him. Perhaps there's a version of his granddaughter there. Tiana Tumino? It doesn't matter. Imagine this though. Your grandfather is yanked out of existence. He comes back. And he tells you 'I have seen colors beyond the ones we live in. I have seen towers of glass and metal scraping the sky, all alight in these colors. I have seen art that contains more art, and it was hideous. No one understood me. Flying things neared me that were beyond anything even our greatest geniuses can make.'

Do you believe him? Can you even imagine it all, even if he describes it, even if he shows you drawings of what he witnessed?

What will you say?

[anim-ttrpgs]

"All our projects" so there's other ANIM projects in production? anything you're able to talk about?

Yes, we plan to have a long-running career in the TTRPG space, and have several backburnered!

I’m just gonna rapid-fire these off the top of my head. We don’t know exactly which one of these is coming after Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is fully released, because it is actually our patreon subscribers that vote on that.

Mastadon(title pending)

Yes, this is intentionally misspelled though we might change that in the future in case it hinders search results and stuff. This is a world where dark fantasy and 90s retro-futurism collide, literally. Think of knights with machine guns, space marines with enchanted swords, high-calibre rounds leaving dents in mythril breastplates, and men-at-arms on cybernetic horses. In the distant future of 2016, a scientific experiment on a lunar research station opened a portal to another world. At the same time, in a dimension of sorcery and feudalism, a council of wizards opened a portal to another world, and explorers from each land found themselves in the same mysterious place.

Cultures and technologies have clashed and mixed in these mysterious lands since. The PCs are mercenaries, taking odd, usually violent, jobs to get by.

Gameplay-wise it’s largely a combat-focused dungeon crawler emulating retro-FPS combat in TTRPG form, with an emphasis on making every type of gun feel totally unique by tying them to entirely different dice mechanics, which in turn makes warriors using these guns strategize entirely differently.

Bone Grinder

Bone Grinder is a “dumber” game, but still with an emphasis on combat. It has a notably more punk and metal aesthetic. Imagine a rocker with a mohawk and leather jacket killing a demon with an axe guitar that is also actually an axe. One of the core mechanics is that players will “bone” the game master by “throwing the bones” at them, which means literally trying to hit them with dice. A successful hit will add a bonus to whatever dice roll comes up when the thrown die lands. When it is the monsters’ turns, the game master will throw that same die right back at them. So if you throw a D6, that’s a D6 attack coming back at your PC next turn. If you throw a D20, that’s a D20 attack coming back at your character next right, so you better make it count, better kill ‘em in one shot!

(We recommend using plastic dice for this one, no metal dice!)

Death Bed

This is another working title, and it is a very serious attempt to emulate Dark Souls and Dark Souls style combat in a turn-based TTRPG in response to the abysmal Dark Souls: The Role-Playing Game that was just a lazy D&D5e book.

This game will be a bit more OSR-y, with D20 roll-under mechanics like old-school D&D for skill checks, and very simple attack determinants. It will have an emphasis on predicting enemy movement, stamina management, and choice between blocking or dodging attacks. It will also feature a system whereby the PCs are not permanently dead after being killed, but do “hollow” after each death. There are several stages of hollowing, each with downsides and upsides. Fully alive PCs will be more nimble, alert, and powerful, but stand out more to mindless hollow enemies, drawing more aggro. More hollowed PCs will have stat debuffs, but hollows are less likely to attack other hollows, giving them less aggro priority. Of course, if a PC dies too many times without restoring their life force, they will become a mindless hollow themselves, becoming an enemy that the party must slay if they want to recover that PC’s equipment.

Untitled Mushroom Game

A working title of course. This game takes a lot of inspiration from the earlier Paper Mario games, and like Bone Grinder, it will have actual physical things you can do with the dice to gain bonuses to your characters’ attacks, which is meant to emulate the “action commands” from Paper Mario in TTRPG format. One example would be building a larger dice pool for an attack based on how many D6s you can stack into a tower before they fall down, with the tower falling down constituting the rolling of the dice.

Eureka Adventure Modules Vol. 2

(Vol. 1 is the set of adventure modules that are coming with the Kickstarter.) Eureka fully releasing won’t mean we’re done with it. We plan to support all of our games for as long a time as possible with new adventure modules and other supplements. (But expect the other supplements to be very cheap if not outright free. We don’t want to make Eureka a game where you have to buy 15 $50 books just to have the full experience.) This will be a set of 5, 10, maybe more pre-written adventure modules for use with Eureka. For a few teasers, one of our ideas features the PCs getting stranded in the Mojave desert, one of them features the PCs getting trapped in underground drainage tunnels with a mysterious creature stalking them, and more horrifying mysteries.

The Eureka Mobster Manual

Another working title, but it’s pretty catchy. This will act as a “monster manual” for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, featuring prémisse stats and GMing advice mundane NPCs like cops, mafia enforcers, hapless bystanders, etc. and also actual monsters, both human and inhuman. One of the monsters I am most excited about introducing is actual demons. Not just some red guy with horns, in fact they’re likely to be completely invisible. I know this term gets thrown around a lot by people who don’t know what it means, but in Eureka demons will be more “biblically accurate.” Think more The Exorcist and less DOOM. A demon doesn’t want to go “blahrarawa!” and kill you, a demon wants to gradually talk you into killing yourself. This also may feature additional playable monsters, such as the gorgon and dullahan(Kickstarter stretch goals for the main rulebook that I don’t think we’re going to meet unfortunately), plus others if we can come up with more.

Overdose

A working title again. This will be a large collection of “drag-and-drop” tactical combat encounters for Eureka, for when a GM needs a fleshed out and challenging final showdown between the PCs and the bad guy goons. These will feature plenty of cover, alternate routes, and “woo roll elements”(stuff that can get knocked over, exploded, destroyed, etc. by stray bullets, thereby changing the environment in exciting and unexpected ways.). All of this is so that the GM doesn’t have to come up with all the complexities of a good Eureka combat encounter on the fly.

That’s about all I can think of right now. After Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is fully released and the dust is settled, we will hold a vote with out patreon subscribers to find out what the fans most want us to work on next.

However, all of these things that I have mentioned are in a very raw state of completion, or even just in the idea stage. If you want to see all these projects, and more, release in the coming years, then RPG-making needs to be a long-term viable career for us. I, personally, am disabled and have a very hard time finding regular, sustainable work at “real jobs,” so this is especially important for my financial future. It’s about the only (marketable) skill I’m good at, and it’s something I enjoy doing, so I’m making this push now for my future.

The best way you can make this a viable long-term career for us is to support the Eureka Kickstarter (only 24-hours left at the time of posting this), buy our games, and subscribe to our Patreon.

The more successful the Kickstarter is, not only does more art and stuff get added to the Eureka rulebook and adventure modules, but the more buzz it generates, and the more buzz it generates the more journalistic support and more financial support we get. Even if it’s just for charity purposes to help me pay future bills when I can’t hold a normal job, pledging $10 is enough to get your name in the Eureka rulebook, and if you can’t give anything, we totally understand—we’d rather you put food on your table than go broke supporting our dreams. If you can share the Kickstarter to discord servers and the like in the last 24 hours of its crowdfunding window, or just share news of the game with people after the Kickstarter closes, that is a huge huge help on its own.

We, and especially I, am thankful beyond my ability to express in words for how much support the Kickstarter has already gotten, and the patreon subscribers whose support paid for all of our advertising budget to get Eureka as well-known as it is. This is a project of extremely professional scope and calibre, and I’m proud to say that we probably shouldn’t have been able to pull it off with as small a team as we are, we’re just that talented and persistent, but no matter how talented or persistent we are, it is the fans and supporters that make it possible for us to pursue a creative career. Thank you all.

24 hours left on the Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Kickstarter, crowdfunding closes at 2:00 PM CST on Friday, May 10th! That’s mid-day tomorrow! Please support it while you still can! If you’re reading this after the Kickstarter has closed, you can support us through ko-fi or patreon, and if you’re a $5 subscriber or more to our patreon, you will get regular PDFs of increasingly finished beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and its adventure modules as we continue to work on finishing it using the Kickstarter money.

You can also help us by checking out our merchandise!

If you just want to play, you don’t have to pay. You can get a beta PDF of the Eureka rulebook plus character sheets and adventure modules FOR FREE from our website or itch.io page.

Join our TTRPG Book Club We nominate, vote on, and split into groups (based on schedule compatibility) differnt indie games, then discuss, just like a book club! Plus it’s just a great place to discuss and play new TTRPGs you might not be able to otherwise!

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

[danaewrites]

Helmet Over Heels

part i: the winter of our discontent

din djarin x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 3.8k

summary:  When your path literally collides with a beskar-covered Mandalorian one night, neither of you expect how that meeting will irreversibly change the trajectory of your lives. 

You’re pulled into his powerful orbit, agreeing to take care of his son in exchange for adventure and freedom– when he’s not off hunting bounties and inadvertently saving villages in need, that is. It’s the perfect plan. Or it would be, if only your quiet crush on the man would stop growing into something more with every hour you spend together. There’s no way he’d ever feel the same, right?

And Din? Well, he’s been trying (and failing) to convince himself that he’s not completely helmet over heels for you since day one. But a Mandalorian can only repress his emotions for so long…

(This fic takes place sometime after Season 2. Din’s back on his bounty-hunting business with a Razor Crest that was never destroyed and an adorable green sidekick who won’t stop chewing on its wires.)

tags: strangers to friends to lovers, slow-ish burn, nicknames, touch-starved din djarin and fem!reader, canon-compliant through season 2 and then Jesus takes the wheel :P

author's notes:

hello and welcome to my first ever mando fic!! i binged the entirety of the first two seasons in a week to get me through tedious internship work and accidentally fell in love with our favorite space dad and his cute green child along the way. oops (i regret nothing)

with the outline i currently have for this fic, it’ll be around 11-12 chapters, although that’s likely to grow as we get deeper into the story. the posting schedule might be anywhere from once a week to once a month, but this wip *will* be finished.

the second chapter's scheduled to upload next week as a little treat for y'all, so if you want to catch it then hit that follow button or ask to be added to my taglist! ;)

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v coming soon!

You watched the last of tonight’s drunken patrons stumble out of the cantina and into the bitter Nath night with a relieved sigh. Wiping your hands on the stained apron tied around your waist, you fished a set of bronze keys out of a tiny pocket and began your nightly walk around the perimeter of the bar, locking doors and pulling down rusty shutters as you went. The cantina was silent aside from your quiet shuffling– a welcome reprieve from its usual crowded bustle and chatter so hectic you could barely hear your own thoughts. 

You hummed softly as you adjusted booths back to their original positions and swept crumbs off of battered tabletops, wishing that the small holospeaker at the edge of the room hadn’t been broken in a recent bar fight. Swaying to its pre-Imperial oldies throughout your long, exhausting shifts had been one of the only perks of working in this run-down cantina, but without the soothing ambience of music, a chill threatened to sink into your bones and paralyze you with the deep depression this side of the planet seemed to have succumbed to.

You never planned to stay here for as long as you had. No one really did, except for criminals who knew that no one would willingly come here to search for them and locals who had never known anything else. Nath might have been charming, once– all soft snowflakes and peaceful walks under sepia-toned streetlights– but that was before the Empire had destroyed every semblance of comfort and culture and replaced them with brutalist brick structures that were already crumbling under the weight of their makers’ crimes. The fear lingered long after the Imps had finally left the post, reflected in the sad eyes of the fishmongers’ children and the way one would be hard-pressed to find a factory worker who didn’t spend his nights nursing a bottle and the ghosts of blaster scars across his back.

You had your own scars, of course, but you still held out hope that things would change and you’d make it out of here– although that hope was gradually diminishing as off-world shuttles visited less and less frequently and the permanent winter worsened. Five years ago, you’d been unceremoniously dropped off at the town’s dingy port, forced to land after your shuttle to Corellia was damaged by an unexpected detour through an asteroid field. You’d taken the cantina job thinking you’d only stay long enough to pay for passage on an outgoing ship, but soon learned that any shuttle risking the terrible weather to land here would also charge an exorbitant boarding price– one that would take you years to afford with the meager pay you received. And your tentative plan of stowing away on a spice freighter and sneaking off once it arrived at its destination (you weren’t picky about where, so long as it wasn’t Nath) was tempered by the increasingly likelihood that you’d get blown to pieces the minute you entered space by one of the pirate gangs that ruled the atmosphere these days. So– you were stuck here, at least for now.

The smell of something burning in the back of the cantina drew you out of your thoughts. Cursing, you raced to the kitchen, where your dinner was quickly blackening on the stove. Kriff. You shut off the burner, staring at the charred mess before you for a few seconds before dejectedly scraping it into an almost-overflowing trash bin. Well, there went your plan to eat quickly and head to your tiny flat before the storm outside worsened. Your rental pod had barely enough space for your bed and a miniscule bathroom, so you had to use the cantina kitchen if you wanted to stay fed– but the stove here was so old, it took half an hour longer than usual to cook anything. You resigned yourself to another night sleeping in a booth, since the flurry outside would prevent you from navigating your way home safely. 

You sliced up a few vegetables and set them to simmer in a pot with the last of the herbed broth and sandseed noodles from today’s lunch special, glancing at the bin next to you. It was probably a good idea to take out the foul-smelling waste before you were sealed in next to it all night. Wrinkling your nose at the unappealing scraps of food threatening to fall off the top of the pile, you hefted the bin up and maneuvered it through the back door of the cantina, being careful not to stain your apron any more than it already was. The harsh winds nipped at every sliver of exposed skin and dusted your hair with a pearlescent sheen of snow, making you wish you’d thought to slip on something warmer than your thin blouse and trousers before leaving the protection of the kitchen.

You navigated through the blizzard to the end of the dark alleyway behind the cantina, your path lit only by two buzzing lamps at each end of the narrow corridor. You scrunched your face up against the cold, willing yourself to keep walking despite your extremely limited night vision. Just a few more steps, and then you’d be free of your compostable burden for the night. You turned the corner, stepping to the left where you knew the trash compactor was, and immediately collided with a giant hunk of metal.

Said hunk of metal cursed loudly as it stumbled head-first over the garbage bin you’d dropped in shock after the impact, falling forward into the snow. “Dank ferrik!” 

Your eyes grew wide as the glow of the flickering streetlights illuminated the very-much-alive Mandalorian lying in front of you. It was just your luck that you’d managed to potentially injure the kind of warrior you’d only heard about in hushed rumors, or at least someone who was wearing the armor of one. Okay, injure was a strong word, but all that cold, hard beskar couldn’t be very comfortable to fall on despite the protection it offered. 

“Stars, I’m so sorry, let me–” 

You reached forward, stretching out a hand to help the Mandalorian up when a small green head suddenly popped up out of a tawny bag slung across their side. You yelped in surprise, losing your balance on the icy road and toppling forward. You winced, bracing yourself and preparing for the inevitable impact– except right as you were about to hit the ground, one steel-clad arm shot out to grab your wrist while the other steadied your hips. You gasped at the warmth of the unexpected contact, pulse quickening as you stared at the–man? person?–beneath you, the only thing preventing you from a nasty collection of bruises appearing across your side tomorrow. 

A deep baritone sounded from the helmet– likely modulated, from the slightly grainy tone. “Are you alright?”

Definitely a man, then. You pointedly ignored the butterflies that stirred to life in your stomach at the sound of his voice, praying that he would attribute your shiver to the cold and nothing more. Stars, this was getting more embarrassing by the minute. You tucked away the thought, making a note to do some serious soul-searching later on about the depth of your touch-starvation and its potential impact on your mental state. 

You gave a quick nod, muttering your thanks and carefully rolling to the side as you dusted clumps of snow off of your trousers. You looked up at him to see him gently picking up the little green creature you’d been so startled by earlier and tucking it back into the bag, pulling his cloak over its head to shield it from the chill. That was… rather cute, actually. You thought Mandalorians were supposed to be scary fighters, dedicated to nothing but their Creed, but this one was clearly fond of the small thing clinging to him. You couldn’t blame him; the green creature’s big ears and bug eyes were adorably endearing. 

The cold winds picked up pace, and you wondered why anyone would be out here during such a storm as you got to your feet. Anyone local would have sought shelter hours ago, and no freighter would dare to land in such conditions. 

“Are you... lost?” You tentatively asked. “Can I help you find someone?”

The Mandalorian remained silent for several long seconds, helmet tilted slightly. Whatever he saw in your face seemed to have settled well with him, and he released a quiet huff through the modulator.

“I need to get food. For my son,” he eventually admitted, gesturing to the baby peeking up at you. 

“Oh!” You brightened up considerably as you remembered the flavorful soup you’d started earlier. “Well– I work in a cantina back there,” you said, pointing behind you at the rusted door that led to the kitchen.

“We’re technically closed right now, but I’m sure I can work something out.” You winked at the curious child, smiling as he let out a happy babble. 

The Mandalorian’s helmet hadn’t moved from its focus in your direction, and you suddenly felt nervous. Which seemed stupid, because–yeah, it felt intense, but was he even looking at you from behind the dark visor of his helmet? For all you knew, he was making the most ridiculous expression at you behind all that beskar and you’d never know. The absurd thought made you snicker softly. If no one could see your face, you’d definitely act goofy at people all the time.

The Mandalorian’s head tilted slightly, and whoops, he’d definitely noticed your little moment now if he hadn’t been paying attention before. Your face reddened and you quickly gestured for him to follow you as you unlocked the door to the kitchen, relieved when you heard the soft clink of his armor come through the doorway behind you.

You placed your hands on your hips, surveying the dimly lit cantina and deciding to lead the duo to a worn table close to the bar. It looked unassuming, but the chairs were the comfiest in the cantina and you figured the baby would appreciate something softer than the coarse bag he’d been in. 

Once they’d gotten settled in, you set about finding a mug of blue milk for the kid and some water for the Mandalorian. You brought the drinks over to the pair, hiding a smile at how eagerly the little green baby reached for his. 

“You’re pretty thirsty, huh?” You observed as the baby slurped up the cerulean beverage. Shooting the tall, beskar-clad man a glance out of the corner of your eye, you continued, “Must have been quite the trip. Most people don’t usually travel to this side of the galaxy for vacation.”

To your disappointment, the Mandalorian remained as still and stoic as ever. Well, that just wouldn’t do. He was your first visitor in years from anywhere outside of Nath, and you were absolutely not letting him leave without getting a bit of juicy detail on life outside of your current drudgery. You decided to go for another angle.

“You know, kids need good role models in their lives. Ones that show them how to socialize with others and communicate. Display generosity of the loquacious sort, even.” You shrugged innocently in your best attempt to mimic the overly casual air the old women at the tea shop always used before passive-aggressively attempting to set you up with their stay-at-home-nephews. “Never too late to start.”

You got the distinct feeling that he was laughing at you under that helmet. Rude. Huffing, you sat down across the table from him and crossed your arms, trying to guess where under his visor his eyes were. Once you were half-confident that you’d found the spot, you stared intensely at it with your most intimidating expression. Which wasn’t saying much, seeing as you had the firepower of a soggy Lothkitten and probably came off as more desperate than anything. 

“Isn’t there some sort of honor code for Mandalorians? One that includes being noble to strangers and whatnot?” 

No response. Argh. 

“Well, I’d consider it pretty noble to provide a lonely soul such as myself with a bit of storytelling entertainment on this frigid evenin–”

Your final attempt at prying some information out of the armored man was interrupted by the sound of the kitchen timer beeping increasingly louder and louder until you were sure the whole cantina was vibrating with the tinny noise.

“KRIFF, not again!” 

You bolted out of your seat towards the kitchen, but not before you heard a thinly disguised huff of amusement coming out of the modulator. Okay, he was definitely laughing at you. 

Once you’d successfully saved the soup from imminent destruction-via-cursed-stove and somewhat regained your pride, you finally made your way back to the table with three steaming bowls of noodles. You placed the smallest one in front of the child, who cooed happily and immediately began plopping his hands in the bowl. The Mandalorian huffed in exasperation and began prying little green fingers out of the bowl. “Hey. Quit that, we talked about this,” he grumbled. You winced as broth sloshed out of the bowl, landing dangerously close to the baby’s tunic. The kid’s lower lip started to tremble, a blaring warning sign that a tantrum was going to occur in approximately ten seconds if he wasn’t distracted from his current petulant state. 

“Oh– hey, bug, don’t do that,” you said as both father and son turned to look at you. You leaned closer to the wide-eyed baby and pointed to his bowl. “That’s pretty hard to scoop up, yeah? Look, there are easier ways to eat it,” you explained as you brought the bowl up to your lips and raised an eyebrow, hoping that he would do the same. The kid blinked up at you for several long seconds before turning to his father with outstretched hands. The Mandalorian sighed, but held up the dish as requested. You hid a smile behind your bowl at the sight.

“Good job! Okay, now we’re going to try something fun–” You mimed slurping up the soup with a silly face at the baby, who burbled something incomprehensible in response but finally followed your example and focused on his food.

When you were sure that the baby’s clothes were no longer in danger of being drenched by broth– and by extension, frozen stiff whenever the pair headed back into the storm–you quietly tucked into your own meal, closing your eyes at the warm memories the comforting flavours brought. Not for the first time, you missed the earthy smell and placid weather of your homeworld, a stark contrast to this icy prison of a planet. 

“You are… good with him.” 

Your eyes darted up to find the Mandalorian’s helmet angled directly at you. Your face heated at the observation and you gave a small laugh, willing yourself to resist fidgeting under his gaze.

“I– thank you, I’ve always liked kids. Used to volunteer in the nursery back home, actually, before the Empire stole every resource from it they could.” 

Your eyes widened with sudden realization. “You’re not Imperial, are you?”

The Mandalorian scoffed vehemently, the most emotion he’d displayed since he’d fallen back in the alley. “No.”

Well, that answered a few questions at least. You were prepared to move on from the conversation when he hesitantly spoke, “My ship ran into a few… asteroids. Is there a mechanic nearby?”

You set down your spoon, thinking. The closest asteroid field was four solar systems away and almost entirely inaccessible if one was traveling through hyperspace, so the likelihood that he’d truly run into one was small. In that case, he probably had damage from some kind of fight— seeing as the average pacifist wouldn’t need that much armor— and would want someone reliable who wasn’t going to ask questions about laser-sized holes in his ship’s hull.

He hadn’t tried to kill or rob you yet, so you figured his personal tussles were none of your business and decided to give him an honest recommendation. You directed him to a small mechanical hub close to the ice huts where there were few ships and even fewer nosy citizens. “The owner, Sanna, is the best in town,” you admitted. “I haven’t had the chance to visit her personally, but she’s known for being very discreet.”

He nodded, entering the coordinates you’d given him into some sort of device on his wrist. You tried to contain your pleased expression at correctly guessing his reason for being on Nath. And it had only taken you… well, four tries, but that was better than nothing! 

“What is your price?”

You blinked, confused. “My price?”

There was that increasingly frequent head tilt again. His helmet tipped forward, scanning you. “For the food. And information.” He clarified slowly. 

“Oh,” you spoke, surprised. “It’s okay, I was making dinner for myself anyway. And you’d have found out the location of the mechanic from someone else eventually,” you shrugged. 

You couldn’t see his face, but from the disbelieving tone of his voice you imagined his eyebrows to be raised. “Not many people would turn down credits.” 

You winced, reminded of your costly dream to get off-world, but there was no way you’d accept this stranger’s money for such a small favor when he had a kid he needed to provide for. “Yeah, well. Guess I’m not most people,” you laughed sheepishly. 

The Mandalorian muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like no, you definitely are not. You squinted at him accusingly.

“Hey, you better not be making fun of my interrogation tactics, metal man.” You leaned forward to poke his soup bowl emphatically. Hm, that was strange– he hadn’t so much as touched it. Did Mandalorians follow some kind of special diet? You resolved to look that up the next time you had access to a datapad.

“Wouldn’t dream of doing that to a lonely soul like yourself.” He responded dryly.

You gasped in mock offense, forgetting your previous train of thought and internally groaning that he’d remembered that part of your disastrous attempt to weasel information out of him. Yeesh. Not your most eloquent moment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you cared,” you shot back in the most syrupy-sweet tone you could muster.

The kid grinned up at you with sharp teeth and blew a soupy bubble towards your face in response. You smiled down at him, adding, “But if you really want to repay me, then bring me back a good story about this little guy the next time you crash land through a— what did you call it? Asteroid field.” You highly doubted the duo would ever willingly return, but if making a deal gave this man peace of mind to know his imaginary debt was settled in some future way then so be it. 

The lights in the cantina began to flicker and you got up with a frown, walking over to the electrical box behind the bar. The dull grey display, crammed with incomprehensibly labelled switches and flashing lights that would give anyone a headache, alerted you that the main generator had been depleted of power. You scrambled over to a window, prying open the shutters a crack only to be met with a dark swirl of snow that completely obscured your view of the street. Stars, the storm had worsened quickly— there was absolutely no chance you were making it home tonight. You slammed the shutter closed and turned around with a grimace that didn’t go unnoticed by the Mandalorian.

“What is it?” He questioned, modulated voice growing wary at the expression on your face.

“We’re running out of power, the main generator’s down from the storm so these lights are going to have to shut off soon. I think there’s enough in the emergency generator to heat the cantina through the night, though.” You hesitated, not sure how to break the bad news. “Unfortunately, the weather is— unmanageable. You’re not making it out of here to the mechanic’s until the blizzard lets up.” 

He didn’t respond for a few seconds, so you continued talking. “I was.. planning on sleeping here tonight.” You muttered, trying to think of a plan. You glanced at the sleepy child resting on the Mandalorian’s beskar chest plate. “I usually keep a couple blankets here for that reason— pretty sure there’s enough to cover the baby, but you might need to be okay with sharing.” 

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, searching your memory for where the emergency supplies were kept. Kriff. How were you supposed to know that you’d be snowed in, and with guests no less? Your grumpy boss really should have put instructions for this type of situation in the closing shift directions instead of the usual “sweep the floors” or your personal favorite: “if the customer creates a corpse, they gotta clean it up themselves”.

The Mandalorian interrupted your musings with a firm, “No need,” gesturing to the charcoal cloak fastened around his pauldrons. You eyed it dubiously, but supposed that the material looked thick enough. That was probably to your benefit, anyway, since you were something of a notorious blanket hog and didn’t think he’d take kindly to having his sheets ripped off him in the dead of night. That seemed like a quick way to wake up with more bruises than you went to sleep with.

“Well— alright then,” you sighed at last, tossing the smaller of your blankets to the man and tucking the other into the side of a nearby booth. “I’ll shut off the lights in a moment. Refresher’s that way, if you need it,” you pointed to the end of a dimly lit hall. The Mandalorian nodded once, then returned his attention to carefully cocooning the child in his lap. You set to work fluffing up your own makeshift bed, folding the cleanest dishtowel you could find into a pillow before trudging over to the light switch and enveloping the room in darkness. 

Quietly feeling your way back to your booth, your eyes adjusted to the pitch-black little by little. You pulled your hair out of its messy updo and curled up on the seat, body slowly relaxing. It was strange, hearing the muffled rhythm of breaths coming from lungs that weren’t your own, but oddly soothing in its own way. 

“G’night,” you mumbled, half-asleep already, consciousness swirled down the psychological drain by the overpowering storm raging outside. The lull-and-hitch of the baby’s soft snores echoing off of solid beskar set you drifting off to sleep faster than you had as a child, so lost to the world that you were sure you dreamed the quiet, belated whisper that sounded back to you.

taglist: @magpiencrow @that-kid143 @lilly-aliyah @itmustbegreattobecalledtheitgirl

comment if you'd like to be tagged for any of my works/fandoms in the future! :)

read on: part ii

[thesleeptokenarchive]

Social Media Update: Rock Sound TV Album Review

In 2021, Sleep Token posted a link to Rock Sound TV's review of their recently released album, This Place Will Become Your Tomb.

[Web Archive Link] [FB]

An offering, from the Rock Sound publication.

SLEEP TOKEN'S ‘THIS PLACE WILL BECOME YOUR TOMB' INTENSELY DEMONSTRATES WHAT IT MEANS TO BE HUMAN

By JACK ROGERS

With their second record, Sleep Token have created a piece of art that transcends this existence whilst also staying firmly rooted in what it means to feel so strongly. This is why it is so vital.

For as long as history will allow us to look back, music has been a means of exercising and exorcizing emotion. A vessel for the most beautiful, brutal and boundless feelings that our minds and bodies can conjure, it's a means of connection that transcends language, creed and culture. A universal escape from the trials and tribulations of the world that will outlast and outlive its creator by the millennia.

Music is humanity at its most vulnerable and visceral, and that is why it is so vital.

It's within this space that Sleep Token has always existed. Since their introduction to the world back in 2016, beginning as a means to present their love and appreciation for the ancient deity Sleep but becoming something much more significant in the process, they have built up a rabid and relentless following via their musical output and nothing more. By hiding away their identity and giving away no additional information, the focus is solely on sound and that sound has always attempted to breach the very essence of what makes us who we are. Tales of devotion and devastation, hope and heartache, are presented by Vessel and his associates in ways that enrich the soul and ensnare the senses, with only our own experiences there to compare the adoration and anguish with.

And it is with 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb', their brand new offering, that unique delivery comes to a head, and where Sleep Token show just how special they really are.

Following on from the ambitious variety of 2019's 'Sundowning', there is a new sense of otherworldly cohesion to this new album. A dense atmosphere, clinging to you like tar but with the texture of newly woven silk, the record feels like a deep glimpse into the magical universe that Sleep Token exists in. A place where time and space collide like lovers kept separate for too long and reality and fantasy blend like petrol seeping into water. A place where Vessel, as this sentient being, delivering these songs feels powerful and mysterious, someone to be feared as much as they are revered. From the towering dominance of 'Alkaline' to the haunting seduction of 'Like That', you are transfixed and taken to the other side by the intoxicating sounds filtering through you.

But on the other side of that comes the humanity of it all. With every heartbeat comes the threat of heartbreak, and to live passionately comes with the risk of feeling the worst that life has to offer as much as the best. Every moment that feels like it exists in a completely different dimension on 'This Place Will Become Your Tomb', another is firmly rooted on Earth, where desolation is always just around the corner from delight. You have the blossoming 'Mine' standing toe to toe with the tear-stained 'Distraction. The deep need of 'The Love You Want' is only a short distance away from the bellowed despair of 'High Water'. The spiralling longing of 'Hypnosis' and tender infatuation of 'Telomores' stare directly at the stark admissions of 'Fall For Me' and broken spirit of 'Missing Limbs'. The highs and lows of leaving ourselves open to others and committing our everything to them are presented in the most touching and terrifying ways, and it takes something rather remarkable to bottle that part of existence. But Sleep Token make it feel like second nature.

'This Place Will Become Your Tomb' is the sort of album that cannot be simply plucked out of the ether. It is a record from deep inside the soul, where layer upon layer has been chipped away to reveal the very essence of existence. Where life has been lived so viscerally, to the point where feelings you didn't even know were possible, have been felt, that every single movement made feels like either heaven or hell. It exists on a plane of its own crafting as much as it does here on in our own reality, and that is what makes it so extraordinary. It is a perfect summation of what it means to be human, whilst also trying to explain what it feels like when the things we experience make us feel like we have transcended this flesh altogether. The most intense love, intoxicating lust, and crushing loss are documented here in the most striking, seductive and sensational ways possible. And it is an absolute pleasure to behold it all.

Worship.

[sol-consort]

Saw your Turian Roommate answer and thought of rooming with other races and...

Quarian dormmate whose awkward and shy around you. Their dorm is its own ecosystem, which you certainly can't enter, which is a relief because then you'd find their extensive "research" on humans. You know, just normal things like studies on how supposedly things like human kissing was created as a way to help the immune system of the community and further more, if that can be applied to Quarians, or research on human customs and culture, courting and dating heavily bookmarked. Naturally, there's and entire desktop setup for research on human mating, including human and other species. Yeah, best you leave them to their research.

Or how there seems to be no privacy with a quarian in the shared living quarters when they are out of their bubble-room. They always seem to be barging in on you at the worst time or right up in your personal space, you brush it off, at first. Growing up on the flotilla where only a curtain separates some families would probably mean they would have no concept of knocking, right? Until you notice that they don't seem to be like this with everyone else in the barracks.

Or something, I thought I was going somewhere with this but ahhh...💦

I adore this concept, you've written it amazingly omfg thanks for sharing with the class

He keeps messaging you in the middle of the night about everything there is under the sun, just to keep talking to you.

Dialling you up just as you retire to your room, dragging out the conversation while you get ready for bed. It's like the sound of your voice alone is invigorating to him, bare and clear without a helmet...it sounds rather intimate. His own voice sounds much clearer, too. He must have taken off his protective suit while in his room.

Allows him the illusion to imagine you laying there next him on the bed as you fall asleep on the voice call, the sound of your soft breathing slowing down. He can't help but wrap his arms tighter around the pillow he's been hugging, attempting to delude his brain into thinking it's a human body instead, that it's your body pressed against his own naked form in the middle of the bed.

Then there are the amount of times he keeps catching by surprise, casually barging into your room, not understanding why you got squirmy about it, why is the blanket covering your lower half? Aren't you hot under there? The building should be temperature controlled...and why is your face reddish, oh no do you have a fever!

Somehow, you always manage to bump into him when you're fresh out of the shower, having to tiptoe the hallway as waterdroplets follow in your steps. Colliding with a metalic suit as you turn a corner—god, how are quarians so quiet and sneaky?—towel threatening to fall, how he doesn't hesitate to reaxh out and hold it in place, before it could unravel. You feel the leather grip of his glove padding against your skin, hear the tremble in his voice through the helmet distortion as he tells you to be careful so you won't catch a cold.

You keep noticing a reoccurring theme in his favourite media. Whenever it's his turn in movie nights, he picks a human/qaurian romance film. He's listening to more human music, asking for your recommendations. The amount of extranet traffic coming from his room is massive thanks to all the guide books and human educational research papers he keeps browsing.

One day, he blurts out the idea of maybe...syncing his environmental suit to your biology? Exposure to your bacteria in small quantities.

Plus...he heard you already helped the turian with desensitisation against human bacteria with make-out sessions, so maybe you do it for him too? A small kiss every now and then should do.

Until his body can handle more, of course.

[aurora-daily]

tomrisgokcenkiraz's 🩸🩸🔪👤Our bodies are where our innermost selves meet the external world, where our desires collide with societal expectations, and where our autonomy is tested against the forces of oppression. "My Body is not mine" The lyrics weave a tapestry of vulnerability, revealing the ways in which our bodies can be manipulated, exploited, and controlled by those around us. We are subjected to societal expectations, cultural norms, and individual desires that shape us into beings we never truly wanted to become. It is as if the flesh that houses our minds has been taken up by forces beyond our control, influencing our every move, our every thought, and our every emotion.

In "My Body is Not Mine" Aurora offers us a glimpse into a world where the boundaries between self and other are blurred. As a result, the song evokes a warning and an invitation to dance shamelessly in the light of our individuality and embrace the deep connection between body, mind and soul by freeing our self from social pressures and directives.

(First, the existence of our original thoughts and then our bodies have been taken over by forces beyond our control. Our generation and the new generation to come have bodies and minds manipulated within the algorithmic system of the meta, which we are unaware of social expectations and the existence of in our personal space.)

(The text is a personal interpretation for the song.) (Photos:3D İllustration) (1.İllustration Photo Errortheory404) @errortheory404

and 3. İllustration Muratfiart)

via auroramusic's IG posts

[morhath]

Oh I’m very very interested in your nonfiction book recs 👀

EDIT: ykw I'm gonna make this a little more organized

I listed a bunch in this post (the last question) but lemme see if I have any additions because I know I was kinda trying to keep it short when I wrote that. (But that being said, that post is the Top Faves Of All Time, so go for those first.)

Freaky medical shit I also liked:

The Fever: How Malaria Has Ruled Humankind for 500,000 Years by Sonia Shah

The Barbary Plague: The Black Death in Victorian San Francisco by Marilyn Chase (I just read this a few weeks ago and OOUUUGGHHHHHH IT'S LITERALLY JUST. LIKE THE RESPONSE TO COVID.)

The Ghost Map: The Story of London's Most Terrifying Epidemic—and How It Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern World by Steven Johnson

Political shit I also liked:

Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories from the Twenty-First Century edited by Alice Wong

The Viral Underclass: The Human Toll When Inequality and Disease Collide by Steven W. Thrasher

Immigrants, Evangelicals, and Politics in an Era of Demographic Change by Janelle S. Wong

History I also liked:

Triangle: The Fire That Changed America by David Von Drehle

The Hamlet Fire: A Tragic Story of Cheap Food, Cheap Government, and Cheap Lives by Bryant Simon (between those two you can tell I was on a bit of a "workplace tragedies caused by lax regulations and bad management" kick)

The Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America's Shining Women by Kate Moore (I think everyone knows about this book, including it for completeness)

Promised the Moon: The Untold Story Of The First Women In The Space Race by Stephanie Nolen

The Women's House of Detention: A Queer History of a Forgotten Prison by Hugh Ryan

Butts: A Backstory by Heather Radke (this is nowhere near as fun and cute as you'd assume from the title)

Memoirs I also liked:

The Less People Know About Us: A Mystery of Betrayal, Family Secrets, and Stolen Identity by Axton Betz-Hamilton (I read this before I really got into nonfiction and it was WILD, I tell people about it all the time)

The Best We Could Do by Thi Bui (this one is a graphic not-novel-I-guess-memoir)

Know My Name by Chanel Miller

Other:

Playing Dead: A Journey Through the World of Death Fraud by Elizabeth Greenwood

A False Report: A True Story of Rape in America by Ken Armstrong, T. Christian Miller

Lost Feast: Culinary Extinction and the Future of Food by Lenore Newman

It Came from the Closet: Queer Reflections on Horror by Joe Vallese

AND here are a few on my TBR that I'm really excited for! I decided not to categorize them because they're almost all history:

Silk and Potatoes: Contemporary Arthurian Fantasy by Adam Roberts

Refusing Compulsory Sexuality: A Black Asexual Lens on Our Sex-Obsessed Culture by Sherronda J. Brown

All the Young Men by Ruth Coker Burks

The Kidnapping of Edgardo Mortara by David I. Kertzer (I am actually partway through this right now but in a bit of a dry/confusing section)

The Broadcast 41: Women and the Anti-Communist Blacklist by Carol A. Stabile

The Golden Thread: How Fabric Changed History by Kassia St Clair

A Woman of No Importance: The Untold Story of the American Spy Who Helped Win World War II by Sonia Purnell (have just barely started this)

Time to Dance, a Time to Die: The Extraordinary Story of the Dancing Plague of 1518 by John Waller

The Memoirs of Lady Hyegyŏng: The Autobiographical Writings of a Crown Princess of Eighteenth-Century Korea by Lady Hyegyeong

Miss Major Speaks: The Life and Times of a Black Trans Revolutionary by Miss Major Griffin-Gracy

Too Hot to Touch: The Problem of High-Level Nuclear Waste by William M. Alley, Rosemarie Alley (I'm in the middle of this but it's surprisingly, um. not exciting.)

Going Postal: Rage, Murder, and Rebellion: From Reagan's Workplaces to Clinton's Columbine and Beyond by Mark Ames

Pressure Cooker: Why Home Cooking Won't Solve Our Problems and What We Can Do About It by Joslyn Brenton, Sinikka Elliott, Sarah Bowen

Mountains Beyond Mountains by Tracy Kidder

The Fabric of Civilization: How Textiles Made the World by Virginia Postrel

Women's Work: The First 20,000 Years Women, Cloth, and Society in Early Times by Elizabeth Wayland Barber

Medieval Gentlewoman: Life in a Gentry Household in the Later Middle Ages by Ffiona Swabey

Hitler's First Victims: The Beginning of the Holocaust and One Man's Fight to End It by Timothy W. Ryback

I am soso normal and have very normal interests that are not at all grim :)