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#nova plays new horizons

dynamos-games · 5 months

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I'm only an hour in, but so far I'm really liking New Horizons. I think I might've been better off picking a different island because I'm stuck on a small chunk of the island due to the rivers I can't cross, but nonetheless I'm enjoying my time. I got saddled with DIva and Bill, which I wasn't too happy about until Diva gave me the recipe for a leaf umbrella. so that's

#nova's games #nova plays new horizons #animal crossing new horizons #new horizonz #achn #nintendo #nintendo switch #switch lite #nintendo switch lite

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madmythologist · 5 months

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Twinkling, warm dots of color, dozens and dozens of them swirling in honied eyes. Nova had been flitting about as the sunlight dwindled, caught out too far from shelter in the ever-shortening days of winter. The sun just set too fast this time of year. Thus she was left to jump short bursts of flight between cover, looking for anywhere warm to hide from the cold.

That was when, much to her relief, the fairy spotted a human structure- a home on the outskirts of a small town. She wasn’t sure, the numerous specks of yellow glow on the horizon didn’t concern her- it was the clearly illuminated window nearby that she was drawn to. And more still, like a moth to a flame when she caught sight of the shimmering, impossibly colored tree inside the home. What on earth that was about, Nova didn’t know, winter time wasn’t usually a time to go searching for humans, so this was new to her. It was all enough to make the bite of the wind subside- if only for a moment.

But once again, shivers wracked her tiny frame, lunar wings wilting from the fringed sensation. Just then, she saw a shadow move on the other side of the glass- probably the human living here. It worried her, but she doubted she could fly much further without risking really damaging her wings. Thus, with a surprising confidence for someone so small- or perhaps desperation- the little one knocked on the window. That in and of itself was a bit painful, but a few sound ‘tinks’ against the barrier, and she saw that shadow shift again. First glancing about, then approaching in only a few wide steps.

She wasn’t exactly hiding on the window sill, but it still startled her a bit when in an instant a face appeared before her. Some kind of demon with a rosy-pink complexion, curled horns framing her face, and pupils a wide, rectangular shape, like a goat. Nova yelped, catching herself from backstepping right off the ledge behind her. That was when the actual expression registered. This imp she’d attracted looked worried, looking the freezing fay over only a second before holding up a delicately clawed finger in a ‘one’ gesture. The little one could only assume one second was the intent, because the much larger woman darted away from view, only for the loud creaking of hinges struggling in the cold to follow.

Abby, in a flash scooped up the little thing on her window. The panic visible in her short puffs of ice escaping her teeth as she shuffled back inside.

“Oh you’re freezing, darling.” She muttered, back hitting the door as she closed out the snow with a thud. Raising her interwoven hands, the horned girl looked over what was collected in them. A young girl, hair flowing down her back and far from a usual green color. Eyes some kind of light hazel, and quite distinct, the large wings protruding from her back, a beautiful green a bit lighter than her hair.

“Yeah, thank you for… letting me in?” Nova paused, not sure that was the word for what just happened. Regardless, she was just happy to be indoors and far from complaining from the warm hands wrapped around her. The woman’s fingers curled and gingerly rubbing the chill from the fairy’s skin, those delicate claws so very careful not to scratch.

“Of course, sweetie. What’s your name?” She replied with a wide smile, fanged teeth bared happily.

“Uh, Nova…” She trailed off, distracted by the feeling of movement, her host starting further inside and back to that room with the luminous tree.

“Nova, huh? That’s a pretty name.” She mused, uttering it like the name were something she could play with on her tongue. “Well, you can call me Abby. And you can stay right here for now.” She continued, boldly casual as she lifted and set Nova down on her shoulder, scooted close to her neck. The fairly couldn’t help noticing a small shiver that ran down this “Abby’s“ spine at the cold contact.

“Sit tight and we’ll get you warmed up.” Nova’s cheeks, out of view of Abby, were red. Whether that was from the cold, or from heat, she wasn’t sure, but regardless she shuffled a touch closer and happily accepted the body heat offered to her.

A few short minutes later, the young fairy was peaking over the lip of a steaming mug. She inhaled deeply, chocolate and peppermint filling her nose as she practically hugged the warm ceramic of the cup. Sticking her lip out, she reached out to grab one of the marshmallows floating in the hot drink. With her handful of pillowy sugar, Nova sat down, back to the cup and wings stretched eagerly to wrap around the radiant heat as much as they could.

“Comfortable?” Abby crooned, an amused smirk playing on her lips as she sat down on the couch beside the end table Nova was sitting on. The fairy could only reply with an enthused “Mhmm“ and a nod as her mouth was occupied with too large a bite of marshmallow.

“So- why do you have a tree in here? And,” the moth paused as she got caught up in the twinkling again, “What are those lights?”

“Oh that. Well, that’s a christmas tree, darling. A tradition for the holiday this time of year.” Abby explained, taking a breath herself to enjoy the strong smell of pine, something Nova couldn’t smell through her continued bites of mellow that was big enough to cover her nose. “We decorate it in ornaments and lights, and find gifts below it on christmas morning.”

Nova pondered this, licking the stray bits of sweet off her lips- but missing a bit that clung to the tip of her nose- before looking back to Abby, and tilting her head.

“Oh, Abby, I think you have a bit of the tree in your hair.” She giggled, pointing just above the larger woman’s pointed ear. Abby half reached to feel for the twig, only to pause as an impish smile tugged at her lip.

“This?” Abby questioned, rhetorically, brushing a claw against the green peaking out from behind her ear. It was a lighter color, softer leaves, rather than needles, baring a few ruby berries, and as Abby pulled it from behind her ear, it was also bound by a bow of tinsel.

“This isn’t pine, dear. This is mistletoe.” She clarified, turning it between her fingers. “It’s quite powerful- a sprig of this killed a god, once.” She mused in mock warning. “But now adays it has a different purpose- another tradition- one that I think I’d like to give it to you as a gift for.” She continued, that toothy smirk returning to her features. She lowered it, leaning onto her side to lay closer to her little guest as she held it out to her.

“Oh- but I don’t have anything to give you.” Nova stood up, worried about taking something from the woman that already took her in from the cold with nothing to return. All the same, the pretty little sprig was held out to her, and she took a hold of it.

It was then that the hot, plush feeling of Abby’s lip gingerly met Nova’s cheek, and a very different chill ran up her spine.

“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. I’m sure we can think of something in return tomorrow morning.” The imp whispered teasingly, tongue flicking from her lip to lick the bit of marshmallow off Nova’s nose, which was suddenly very aware of the smell of peaches and cinnamon that Abby wore mixing with chocolate and mint that being so close to her mouth offered.

Nova had gone from nearly feezing to death, to comfortable and warm, to nearly melting a bit under this sudden change in the attention all around her. Her legs felt a bit like jello, but she smiled with conflicting embracement and relief. What Abby was suggesting was surprising, but the fairy wasn’t exactly apposed to the idea.

“I guess I do have something to offer in return, huh?” She chuckled, cheeks dusted a pretty pink.

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amiedala · 1 year

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SOMETHING HOLY

CHAPTER 1: Start At The Beginning

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, power play, dark!Din, canon-compliant violence

SUMMARY:

“Mine,” Din is saying like a prayer, “you’re mine.”

There’s a desperation to it, an undercurrent, and Nova unhinges her mouth as Din watches, hard and desperate pressed against her, so desperate that it burns through their clothes. A hymnal, he’s singing, with nothing but the same syllables. It’s desperate, pleading. More than piety. Like a zealot, for her, only for her. Like Novalise is something holy.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: TELL A FRIEND TO TELL A FRIEND... SHE'S BAAAAAAAAAACK! i'm SO excited to share the 11,000+ word Prologue & first chapter of Something Holy with you all! buckle up my friends, and enjoy ;)

If you're new here, Something More & Something Deeper are the first installments in this series, available on here & ao3!

PROLOGUE:

The story goes like this: Boy meets girl. Boy loses girl. Boy moves the entire earth to find girl. Girl moves the stars above to be with boy. Fate intervenes. Life stops for both boy and girl, eventually. Love is the conqueror of all things—except death. Death is always triumphant, always the winner, always the end of everything. Boy and girl are no exception. The stars give, yes, but they also destroy. They supernova. They take.

This is always the story.

There is no other ending to the story.

CHAPTER ONE: START AT THE BEGINNING

The end of the galaxy does not come with a whimper, or a bang. There is no immediate fadeout. There is one supernova, the Mandalorian she loves, and their ragtag band of rebels holding up the sky. The galaxy’s end is not immediate, it doesn’t come in a flash. There’s nothing that shows that the end is inevitable, is on the horizon.

Nothing except Nova’s dreams.

It’s a hurtling—almost like through hyperspace, through that crush of space that only warp can provide. But it’s different. Darker.

Greyscale.

Novalise only dreams in color.

Lightning—not blue—a sinister laugh—resounding. Everything comes in ellipses, like her vision’s been altered. Nova can feel herself teetering between sleep and consciousness. The voices in her head—so real, so tangible—feel like they’ll follow her back into the light. This isn’t like the visions Grogu pulls her into. It’s not like the warped hallucinations that came with Sparmau. It’s not even like her glimpses of Ezra—his face so similar to her own, almost a reflecting pool, almost, almost—but everything is fleeting. Ephemeral. She turns on her heel, her long hair blowing in the wind.

Wind, she thinks, there’s wind here. She looks up, left, right, sideways—it’s like she’s in a funhouse of mirrors. Like the one on the dais—back on Jedha, or the one in the forest on Naator. But she can’t see anything—not the enemy, not herself—just that persistent, unfurling darkness.

Even in her dreams, it settles like a pit in the center of her belly.

“Wake up,” Nova whispers to herself. “Wake up—” And then it comes in flashes. Still in black and white, still in that greyscale, but—clear, all of a sudden. Blips of nightmare fuel, of a tall figure who is somehow both man and not man, of a lightsaber whirring past her face, of Din’s startled eyes, of crying in the background, screaming, someone’s screaming—is that her screaming?—Bo-Katan’s iced-out glare, Wedge flailing in the background, the sound of a ship splintering into a thousand pieces, the pulse and flicker of the Darksaber, Mandalore being bombed, stepping through a doorway, a doorway she’s seen before, and then—

“Hello, Novalise.”

Nova whirls again, toward the sound of the voice, but—silence. And then, the screech, a chittering, awful pulse, and then she’s in the mirror again, staring at herself, and Nova knows what she looks like, but this version is not Novalise, not Andromeda, not anything she’s ever seen. Evil. She looks drenched in it, sweating out something terrible. She holds her fingers up to her reflection’s own hand, trying to find harmony, symmetry, anything to anchor herself to—

“Don’t you dare. Don’t leave me.” Din, suddenly, is as clear as day, as undone and as divine as his bare face. “What if you don’t come out?”

Nova swallows, stepping forward, cradling his cheekbones in between her hands. Delicate enough to keep him steady. Strong enough to shatter bone. She can feel the glow—that constant, utter darkness, pulsating, calling to her. It’s not holy—it’s the opposite, but it beckoned just the same. Nova leans in, lips flush against her Mandalorian’s. So quiet, quiet enough that only Din can hear her: “Then you bring me back.”

Nova hurdles awake, pressing her hands against her hammering heart. She can’t slow it down, can’t force it to steady, but she’s slamming her sledgehammer pulse as if that will shock it back to normalcy.

A beat later, Din’s up, blotting out the moon shining through the gossamer curtains—it’s so rare, Nova marvels, before she’s caught her breath, that anything can cut through Mandalore’s smog—and then Din is back, her single locus, that one, eternal star. She collapses against him.

“Dreams,” she whispers, as his hands tangle in her dark hair, hanging almost to her waist, still smelling of coconut and forsythia after their wedding. “Just—dreams.”

Din’s brown eyebrows furrow, creasing down the middle. “Bad ones?” His voice is still gravelly, stuck with sleep.

Nova considers, inhaling a normal breath. “Urgent, at least.”

Din observes her. “Jedi dreams?”

And Nova smiles at that. She can’t help it. She reaches forward, through the interrupted darkness, punctuated by the rare shine of a full Mandalorian moon, and brings Din’s forehead to hers. “Probably. They’re always knocking around in there, somewhere.”

She can feel Din’s gaze on hers. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Nova whispers. “I want…I want one night. One perfect night—our wedding night, Din—that isn’t about the uncertain future, about the–the impending doom hanging over our heads.” She looks up at him, forehead still pressed against his, biting on her bottom lip. “I want one thing, right now, and that’s you.”

She shifts, laying back against the silken sheets, dragging his naked body down with her. Nova can feel him, broad and hers, hard and ready between her thighs, pressed up against her stomach. She doesn’t break his gaze, careful, intentional, hands slipping off his shoulders to caress his cheek, to slip one down to the small of his back.

“Nova—”

“Just you,” she repeats, breathier than she intended, relishing in the feel of his brown, bare eyes against hers, that this is her Din, her Mandalorian. Hers. In this lifetime of so much loss, they’re here, together. “Nothing else matters.” Nova reaches up, kissing the long column of Din’s neck, right at his pulse point, encouraging, coaxing, the dreams already forgotten. “Just for one night,” Nova breathes, “the end of the galaxy as we know it can wait.”

Din moves forward, lips latching against hers, his eyes star-studded and filled with something reverent—

Three knocks at their bedroom door.

Nova clenches her teeth together as Din stifles a tiny laugh against her mouth. A laugh—one that she savors every time it bubbles out, and she can’t even enjoy it, because of the three knocks. Again.

“As your Mand’alor,” Nova calls, anger sluicing through her voice, “unless the palace is being razed, again, I order you to leave until the morning.”

“It’s morning.”

Nova’s head drops back against the pillow, exasperated. “Bo-Katan, it’s our wedding night—”

“The sun will be up in an hour. Listen, I’m—I’m really sorry, Nova—”

“Leave!” Nova yells, again, suddenly furious, “now, please!”

“Nova,” a voice calls, and it’s enough to make Din’s eyes catch hers in the low light, enough for Nova’s heart rate to pick back up. Wedge. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But…but we found something, and it can’t wait.”

Nova stares at Din. Din stares back.

“It’s your call,” he mouths, and Nova debates just stuffing a pillow through the crack in the door and muffling them out, but there’s an undercurrent running through Wedge’s voice, one she hasn’t heard in a very long time. One she hasn’t heard since her parents were killed.

So she disentangles herself from her husband, throws her discarded robe on, and strides for the door. Nova wrenches the handle open, Din still in the shadows of the bed, and tries her very best to look menacing, untouchable.

“What?” she asks, low and furious.

Bo-Katan doesn’t even notice, eyes blinking rapidly. Wedge’s knuckles are white, clenched in a fist up against his mouth. At first, she thinks he’s stifling his laughter, but there’s not laughter there at all. Bo-Katan is worried. And Wedge is afraid.

“What?” Nova repeats, but it’s lost all of its fire.

“The Chimaera.”

Nova blinks. “What?” She asks, for a third time.

“I went to Yavin.”

“Yeah, Bo-Katan, I remember. For my wedding dress. And I’m very thankful—truly, I am, but I don’t think that matters right now—”

“I ran into an old friend on Hoth.” Wedge finally speaks, and his voice is as taut as a wire. “Nova, when Bo-Katan was on Yavin, she…she listened to a distress call. And at the same time, I was on Hoth, and I ran into someone—”

“Hera.”

Nova looks back at Bo-Katan, shaking her head, trying to make sense of it. She, decidedly, cannot.

“Hera told me that the Chimaera was picked up on her radio. The distress call, the callsign signature. She—”

“Nova,” Bo-Katan says, strained, “I need to tell you about my—if this ship is back, we are in for—”

“Bo-Katan,” Din says, materializing behind them, as silent as a shadow, “you need to spit it out.”

Irritation flashes across Bo-Katan’s face. Then, pointedly: “Something very bad is on that ship, Nova.”

Nova looks back at her, and that gnawing pit in the center of her stomach comes back, slung with the full force of gravity. She swallows, eyes locking on Bo-Katan, on Wedge, to Din, who’s moved out of the shadows and is standing in line with them. What a strange quadrangle, the four of them are, whisper-yelling in a palace that’s more like a ghost town. Mandalorians, Rebels, all of them in varying degrees—and now Nova’s not listening, just staring at the three people she trusts most in the world, all three of them speaking in glances and riddles.

“What do you mean,” Nova whispers, “by ‘something very bad’?”

“I knew someone once,” Bo-Katan says, her voice faraway, “and he disappeared into deep space. In a ship that’s been presumed missing since—with someone who scared me even more than Ladmeny Sparmau.”

Nova feels thunder. She doesn't realize it for a moment, but it’s coming from inside her chest. “Who?”

Bo-Katan looks at her. “Nova—”

“Who did you know?”

Bo-Katan looks at her head-on. “His name was Ezra Bridger.”

Nova’s not sure how they materialize down in the war room, but they do. Somewhere, between Bo-Katan dropping the bomb that she knew—knows—Ezra, that he’s real, not just someone knocking around the inside of Nova’s head, and the holotable flickering on, Nova, Din, Bo-Katan, and Wedge all descended the staircase. But Nova can’t remember it, the whole journey downstairs completely blank.

She stares upward through the domed ceiling of the palace, and the jolt of realization that she can still see straight through the sky is electrifying, a warning sign. Of what, Nova’s still not sure. But it’s odd, the blue sky—slowly receding into a lighter and lighter color—shining above her head.

Bo-Katan and Din are arguing when she filters back in. “Stop it,” Nova whispers.

“Nova—”

“I need you to run this again for me,” Nova says, evenly, blinking away sleep. “Start at the beginning.”

Bo-Katan inhales, exhales, trying to regain some semblance of composure. She’s a soldier, that much is clear—in the way she gives reports, in the way she gives her delivery. Bo-Katan is so focused on the strained set of her jaw that for a minute, she can’t listen. Bo-Katan stops, observing Nova back, waiting for her to catch up. That sense of softness is in such stark contrast to the girl Nova once met, and despite the entire situation, Nova smiles.

“I have a lot in my history that I’m not proud of.”

Nova swallows, looking up at her friend. Bo-Katan is facing the throne now, instead of her. Tentatively, Nova steps forward, trying to bring her back, but Wedge, slowly, shakes his head. Nova’s hand jumps back like a pulse.

“I… used to be in a group called the Death Watch.”

“You did not.” Din’s voice rings out, unencumbered and clear without his helmet on. Nova shifts back to face him. “You were part of a cult?”

“You’re one to talk,” Bo-Katan snarls, turning on her heel. “Child of the Watch.”

“You and your group,” Din says, evenly, angrily, “were so focused on returning Mandalorians to warriors that you killed thousands of them.”

“Hey—”

“You and your group,” Bo-Katan counters, “were religious zealots that ostracized anyone who adapted to our modern ways.”

“Stop,” Nova whispers, but it’s Wedge that cuts in.

“We are on the same side,” Wedge yells, so foreign from his normal tone of voice that everyone stops. “I know the two of you have your differences. But I thought we were past this.” He gestures at the tensioned air between them, pulled taut and ready to snap. “We have a mutual enemy here. Aren’t you tired of the infighting? You’re friends. Bo-Katan, you’ve told me as much, so don’t deny it. Din, Bo-Katan just said she’s not proud of it. Stop. We’re not arguing about this anymore.” Everyone stares. Sheepishly, he turns to Nova. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to steal your thunder.”

Nova smiles. “Steal it anytime. Well said.” Carefully, she positions herself between Din and Bo-Katan. “I know none of this is simple,” she says, looking at both of them. “There’s a lot of history here, and it’s not going to be smoothed over in one conversation, especially with the differences in how both of you were raised. But that isn’t the focus, not tonight.”

“It’s morning,” Bo-Katan mutters, and at Nova’s exasperated look, she shrinks. Barely, but it’s enough. “I was a commander in the Nite Owls, a subsect of the Death Watch. I believed in what I was doing. I thought that I was…returning Mandalore to its former glory, that anyone who opposed me was wrong. I was young, and I wasn’t exactly naive, but I was headstrong. It put me at odds with my sister.” Her eyebrows are clenched together in pain, clouding her expression. “Satine,” Bo-Katan says, like it burns her coming out of her mouth, “was peaceful in every way I wasn’t. When she ruled Mandalore, she wanted us to be pacifists.” Bo-Katan stops, considering. “I disagreed.”

“Where does Ezra fit into this?” Din asks.

Bo-Katan glares at him. “I’m getting there. We were exiled to Concordia.”

Din stiffens.

Wedge clocks it first. “What?”

Din sighs, running a hand over his exhausted face. “I…also grew up on Concordia.”

Bo-Katan gives him a look, but doesn’t press it. Like she recognizes it, like their history may have overlapped. “Listen, my history is… it’s complicated. Complex. I’m trying to give you the important stuff.”

Nova nods. “I know.”

“My sister and I…we fought, and Death Watch was… relocated. But while all of this was happening here…there was unrest in the Senate. In the rest of the galaxy.” She looks at Nova. “The Empire was on the horizon. And I met Maul.”

Nova’s eyebrows furrow. “Who?”

Bo-Katan looks appalled. “Darth Maul?”

Nova shakes her head, genuinely lost for the second time today. “I don’t know who that is.”

Din nudges her with his elbow. “You sound like me.”

Nova rounds on him. “Do you know who this Maul person is?”

Din peers down at her, puzzled. “Nova, I’m a Mandalorian. Of course I do.”

Staring, Nova prompts him to go on.

“He overtook Mandalore,” Din sighs, “Not well. Not for long. But for a while there, someone other than a Mandalorian—by blood or by Creed—held the beskar throne. It’s a big part of Mandalore’s history.”

Bo-Katan sighs. “I helped him do it.”

Din looks back at her, stricken. “You helped—”

“To reinstate the Death Watch,” Bo-Katan interrupts, sourly. “It was a coup. I didn’t want him on the throne any more than I wanted my sister to be.”

“Right,” Din scoffs. “You wanted to be on the throne.”

Bo-Katan raises her chin, clenching her jaw. “It is no secret that I wanted to be on that throne, Din Djarin,” she whispers, deadly and cool. “In fact, I helped you find Ahsoka so that you would return the Darksaber to me.”

“How’d that work out for you?”

“Things change,” Bo-Katan spits. “I changed. Is that so hard to believe, after everything we’ve been through?”

Nova bites down on her bottom lip, ready to hurl herself between the two of them again, but—amazingly—Din shrinks back, looking chastised. And apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, genuine, brown eyes shining through the dark.

“Maul killed my friend,” Bo-Katan says, “decapitated him. Right in front of me. And he became the leader of the Death Watch. I began seeking out other ways to retake Mandalore. So I met Sparmau. I thought I loved her.” She swipes her hand across her bottom lip, angry. “She was so bright. So vivid, and dangerous, and I thought she had enough compassion to help me. But she never loved me. She took and took everything that she could, and cut me down until I was the basest version of myself.” Bo-Katan swallows, her face simmering, like she didn’t mean to reveal all of that. “Obviously, that went south. And I went to try and break Satine out of prison. For redemption, maybe. But I wasn’t thinking about anything other than Mandalore.”

Nova stares at her, feeling worry carving a scar through her own heart. She’s seen Bo-Katan vulnerable—but this is offering up information in front of both Din and Wedge. Information Nova didn’t need to pry out of her.

“It went badly.” Bo-Katan stares off somewhere in the past, eyes unfocused past Nova’s shoulder. “Maul killed Satine.”

Nova knows this part of the story—barely, but enough—and she strides across the distance, taking Bo-Katan’s trembling hand in her own. Surprised, stunned out of her reverie, Bo-Katan looks over at Nova as if she’s materialized in front of her, but squeezes Nova’s hand back.

“There’s more to the story,” Bo-Katan sighs. “But I wanted revenge. I wanted Mandalore back. So I teamed up with the Jedi. That’s how I met Ahsoka. And Kenobi. They fought alongside me to capture Maul. I wanted to kill him. Obi-Wan, for some reason, said no.” She shakes her head. “Ahsoka told me that I could be a great leader. That Mandalore could change. But I didn’t want change. I wanted to rule it in the way I always thought it should be—I never shared Satine’s idealism. And I thought I would finally have the chance to rule the planet.” She sighs. “But Order 66 happened. And the Empire rose.”

“Bo-Katan—”

“I was rash. And violent. But I refused to do the Empire’s bidding, Nova,” Bo-Katan says, her voice almost wobbly. “I swear.”

Nova squeezes down on her friend’s cold hand. “I believe you.”

“Clan Saxon took their chance and forced me off the throne.” Bo-Katan casts a glance up at where it sits on the dais, resetting her jaw. “Eventually, I met a friend. Sabine Wren. She tried to gift me the Darksaber, and I said no.”

“Is that when you lost it?” Din’s voice isn’t goading, or combative, but Bo-Katan’s eyes flash with anger, and as soon as it appears, it vanishes. She looks unsettled—sad, Nova eventually quantifies. Bo-Katan Kryze has been a lot of things, but Nova’s never seen how poignant and powerful sadness looks on her face, like it’s held back by floodgates, raring to be released.

“That came with the Great Purge,” Bo-Katan says, “and it’s a story for another day. I did gain the Darksaber, eventually—but I was gifted it. I declined, originally, but I…I was assured that enough people thought I earned it. And some Mandalorians accepted me as their leader, but others—” she shoots a pointed, but not unkind, look at Din “—did not. When the Purge came, I lost. Again. And Gideon got the Darksaber.”

“Ezra,” Wedge reminds her, softly, like he doesn’t want to disrupt her speech. This is, Nova realizes, the longest Bo-Katan has consecutively talked in front of all of them.

“Oh,” Bo-Katan says, faraway, distracted. “Sabine introduced me to Ezra.” She turns away, like she’s swiftly dismissing herself.

“Ezra Bridger,” Wedge steps in, relieving Bo-Katan, “was a part of the crew of a starship called The Ghost. It was piloted by General Hera Syndulla, who I saw on Hoth. She, along with her crew—including Sabine, and, eventually, Ezra—were Rebels, too. But they didn’t fight in the wars we did, Nova, and they didn’t ever cross paths with you or your parents. I know Ezra was—is—a Jedi, like you. I only know Hera in passing. But she stopped me when she saw me on Hoth and told me that she heard the distress call—”

“Ezra disappeared into deep space with a man I’ve only heard about,” Bo-Katan interjects, shooting a slightly apologetic look at Wedge, “but he’s certainly the stuff of nightmares. On his ship. The Chimaera. And neither of them were heard from since, until Wedge saw Hera. So we’re facing something…massive.”

Din sighs, leaning back against the holotable.

“Am I boring you,” Bo-Katan says, eyes glittering with ice again. Her voice is flat. It isn’t a question. “Because I can stop. But I would advise you to listen to me, because I’m the only person in this room who was on Mandalore for all of this. And if we’re going to fight this—if we’re going to make Mandalore the center of a war again, which we are—I think you should shut up and listen.”

“All of this matters,” Nova cuts in, letting go of Bo-Katan’s hand to draw a line through the air. “I don’t think I need to remind anyone in this room how we don’t know what’s coming next. Sparmau is dead, but the First Order is still out there, gathering in the dark. Gideon is gone, but whoever he was involved with is still lurking. Grogu’s still terrified every time he sees a stormtrooper. There’s something off about Leia’s kid. The darkness is in every dream I have. And Ezra is a real person—a real person—and he’s trapped out there with someone who scares Bo-Katan more than Sparmau.”

All three of them are staring at her. Nova swallows the tide of rising emotion in her throat.

“I’m exhausted,” she whispers, “and I know you all are, too. But there’s something out there, and the only way we’ll be able to stop all of it is if we listen to each other. Piece together our past. We can’t win this fight if any of us are on different sides.” She swallows. “None of this is easy. But we have a hell of a battle ahead of us. I’m tired, but I’m exhausted of being one step behind them all. We’re going to win this war.”

Din looks at Nova, a tiny, proud smile whispering across his mouth. Everything is solidified by that one look, that forever, eternal locus. “I’m in. And, Bo-Katan, for the record, I was only sighing because I was trying to keep all of the people straight.”

Bo-Katan rolls her eyes, but the set of her shoulders drops. “I’m with you all, whatever comes next. Even you, Din.”

“Rebel by nature,” Wedge grins, stepping closer, closing their circle. “Count me in.”

Nova smiles at all of them. “What did the distress call say?”

Bo-Katan and Wedge exchange a look. Wedge speaks. “Just that the Chimaera is back in detectable range. But someone—presumably Ezra—turned a beacon on a shuttle, which let the Rebel base know where it is.”

“Where what is?”

This time, it’s Bo-Katan that speaks. “Ezra’s relative location.”

Nova nods. “Gear up.” She surveys the faces of her confidants, her Rebels, her Mandalorians, her family. She tucks her long curls behind her ear, extinguishing the azure light of the holotable. Above them, the sun is—miraculously—still shining. “Meet me in the docking bay in a half an hour.”

Din looks over at her, familiar, quiet love sparking in his eyes. “Where to, Mand’alor?”

Nova smiles, adrenaline rushing back through her veins, breaking through the floodgates. “We’re going to bring Ezra home.”

Din and Nova ascended their staircase alone. Bo-Katan and Wedge are stationed downstairs, Grogu sleeping in his carrier in the corner, tiny mouth open in even smaller snores.

Silently, Nova peels off the robe she’s wearing, Mandalore blue. Through the dark, she can feel Din’s eyes on her, lazer-sharp, lustful. They track her every movement—the curve of her hips, the way her stomach twists when she bends to pull on underwear, tan pants a few shades lighter than her skin tone. He’s still watching as she clasps her bra, gaze hungry, full of the moment stolen from them earlier.

“Din.”

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

A slow, wicked smile spreads across his face, glittering in the early-morning blue of their room. “I won’t apologize for that.”

Chills spread across Nova’s body. “We have a mission at hand,” she whispers, ignoring the way she shivers as Din moves closer, closer. She loves to be hunted by her Mandalorian, willing prey.

“My mission,” he says, reaching out, a phantom limb at first, and then the rest of him appears. His open hand rests against the extension of her open throat, and Nova sighs, pressing into Din’s touch, “is to devour you.”

Nova moans, the sound of it breathy, like it’s been coaxed out of her mouth. Din’s still only weaning his underclothes—no armor, nothing to shield him from her touch. Transfixed, she arches closer to his body, pressing her torso against his. She hums when he growls, low and primal, free hand skating over the small of her back. “Now?”

“Always.”

Nova shudders as Din’s hand clenches down—not enough to deprive her of air, but enough to make the stars shoot into her vision. Nova always welcomes the crush of space, the shuddering blackness of it, but this kind is her favorite. Buzzing, she presses her windpipe into the crest of Din’s hand, the sound of her sigh glittering off somewhere starward.

Din murmurs something she can’t hear, trailing his hand up her back to fist in her hair. Nova knows she has a few seconds of pure bliss before danger sets in—that’s where she and Din live, that fault line. But this is the danger they chose, the danger they crave. She opens her eyes, sage green into dark brown, locked on Din like a laser beam, refusing to shy away.

He lessens his grip, and Nova sags against his taut, hard body, the apex of his shoulders wider than hers, welcoming her in. Nova sighs, feeling that buzzing in her ears hum back to normal. “Mine,” Din is saying like a prayer, “you’re mine.”

Nova steps back.

Din stumbles forward, and they both tumble into where the sun is rising in the east, blue, soft light forcing them into the day.

“What?” he asks, genuinely concerned. Nova blinks, tracing a line over the map of Din’s face—her Mandalorian, her husband, her beloved. The thick, coarse hair of his mustache, the bow of his upper lip, the ridge of his beautiful hooked nose. “What’s wrong?”

“What was that, back there?” Nova whispers, afraid to take her touch away this time. Something haunted and terrible is skirting the corners of Din’s eyes. “With Bo-Katan?”

Din sighs, blinks, and the expression shifts, but doesn’t disappear. “Her group and mine have been enemies for a long time.”

Nova brings her other hand up to cup Din’s cheeks in equal measures. “Your sects of Mandalorians, sure, but you’re friends, Din.”

His eyes cloud, uncloud. “Yeah,” he says, unconvincingly, and Nova squeezes down, trying to bring him back. “Yes,” he corrects, much stronger. “We are. But it’s beyond that. Being here…it’s strange.” He clears his throat. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

Nova tilts her head to the side. “Din. It’s me.”

“There’s so much history here,” he says, carefully. “And when it’s just us, it’s one thing. But…with war on the horizon, we’re going to have to unite the Mandalorians. You will, as reigning Mand’alor. They will follow you. You’ve proven yourself as a warrior, and they respect you. But…”

“This is a larger war than they’ve ever fought,” Nova fills in when Din trails off, eyes slightly unfocused. “This is bigger than one enemy, and it’s going to force all of us to be on the same side, regardless of their history.”

Din nods, once.

“There’s more, though,” Nova breathes, circling her thumbs around his temples. “What’s going on?”

Din’s gaze snaps back to hers. “I’m so tired, Nova.”

Something fractures along her heart. Another fault line, cracking and bisecting. Small until it isn’t. Nova tries to brace herself against her racing heartbeat, tracing her fingers over Din’s cheekbones. “I know, my love.”

Din’s jaw clenches. “Do you wish—”

Nova tips her head closer when he stops short in the middle of the sentence. “What?” she whispers, barely air at all, trying to coax it out of him.

“That we just stayed on Naator?”

Nova blinks. “Din—”

“You have the galaxy to worry about,” he says, a weight behind the word, a heaviness that Nova never noticed before. “And we have a duty to Mandalore. I don’t want to run away.”

Observing, Nova moves closer, tipping her forehead against his.

“But,” Din whispers, so quietly it’s like there’s nothing there at all, “what if we ran away?”

Novalise is speechless. For a tortuous, long second, she doesn’t speak. Whatever haunted thing was lingering in Din’s eyes breaks away, hides like it was never there at all.

“Wishful thinking,” he mutters, trying to pull away, but Nova anchors him in place.

“One day,” Nova vows, “one day, we will save the world, we won’t fight another war, and you and Grogu and I can live the rest of our lives under Naator’s pink sky. I promise you, Din.”

He gives her a sad smile, hand grasping her chin, tipping it up to meet his eyes. “But you’re a fighter. It’s who you are. You aren’t…just going to leave. It’s not in your blood.”

“You’re a Mandalorian,” Nova whispers, repeating his own words back to Din, “and fighting is part of your religion.”

“Yeah,” Din says, kissing her on the mouth, lips lush and full against her own, “sure, it is.”

It’s not until they’re both dressed, Grogu in tow, and heading towards the ship bay, that Din whispers something so quiet that Nova doesn’t hear it.

“But I don’t worship the fight anymore. Just you.”

“For the record,” Bo-Katan yells, over the hum of her ship’s engine starting up, “I still think this is a terrible idea.”

Nova squints, long black braid swinging over her shoulder. “What choice do we have?”

Climbing into the cockpit, Nova and Bo-Katan take the helm. Wedge and Din disappear as they take off from Mandalore’s surface, the atmosphere clouding with every second they rise towards the stars. Wedge is likely going to eat. Din, Nova knows, touching his helmeted cheek as he disappears into the bowels of the ship, is going to try and sleep.

“I don’t know,” Bo-Katan sighs, pushing all the thrusters up high. Her ship is made of the same metal and steel that Din’s was, but it’s older, less flashy. More utilitarian. Very Bo-Katan. “We’re going after an entire Star Destroyer. We can’t beat them.”

“We are the galaxy's mightiest heroes,” Nova says, tossing Bo-Katan a grin.

Bo-Katan gives her a sour look in return. “Yeah. But the four of us have almost died a lot.”

“Grogu and I have the Force.”

“Novalise,” Bo-Katan sighs, “no offense, but when has that ever really worked in your favor?”

Nova mimes getting struck in the heart, throwing her head back. “Ouch.”

“We should have brought Koska and Axe. At least. Maybe a few other warriors.”

Nova studies Bo-Katan as the ship ascends above Mandalore’s atmosphere. “You usually don’t share the fight.”

Bo-Katan’s jaw clenches. “I’d share this one,” she mutters, flicking switches until the ship levels. A furrow in her eyebrows appears as she leans forward, trying to calculate exactly where the Chimaera’s signal was pulsing from. “Shit.”

Adjusting, Nova brings herself closer to the nav system. “Where is he?”

“Way out there.” Bo-Katan’s long, lean finger taps against the tracking beacon.

“Primea?” Nova asks, squinting at the planet. “That’s not in the Outer Rim. That’s…”

“The other side of the galaxy,” Bo-Katan supplies. “The Unknown Regions.”

“Luke’s out there,” Nova counters, trying to fight the rising anxiety in her stomach. “Luke’s on Ahch-To. That’s in the Unknown Regions. So, maybe, Ezra found—” But the impossibility of the entire thing catches up to her, flutters in her throat. It would be a couple days of journeying, even at full warp. They might have to stop somewhere to refuel. And Ezra was trapped out there, trapped with someone Bo-Katan was actually scared of… Maybe they are in over their heads. Nova realizes she stopped abruptly in the middle of her sentence. Now it’s Bo-Katan’s turn to stare at her. “I guess it’s too much to hope for,” she whispers, “that Ezra is anywhere close to Luke. That… that he might have found safety.”

“Well,” Bo-Katan says, checking the fuel gauge as she fires her ship into hyperspace, “If Luke’s anywhere with Leia’s freaky son, maybe he’s not safe either.”

“Bo-Katan—”

“That kid’s a weirdo,” Bo-Katan says, a mirthless laugh rising in her mouth.

“You haven’t even met him.”

“Do I need to?”

Nova purses her lips, considering. “No,” she admits, quietly, and Bo-Katan barks a laugh. “But he’s…he’s troubled.”

“Troubled like he’s a troublemaker? Or troubled like he’s a little Sith lord in the making? Because I think you and I both know the answer to that one. And he’s not a troublemaker.”

Nova stares out into the crush of space, thinking of Din’s hand on her throat, Bo-Katan’s words echoing in her mind. “He’s…he has the power to be terrible,” she says, carefully. “I know he’s Leia’s son, but there’s a darkness in him. Something awful. I’ve seen visions. I know who he’s destined to be.”

“Kill him,” Bo-Katan shrugs. “Now, before he has that chance.”

Nova stares at her. “I’m not going to kill a child. Leia’s child, no less.”

Bo-Katan shrugs again, unaffected. “She’d thank you in the long run. If he turns into the monster you’ve seen he will.”

“Bo-Katan—” Nova sighs, pressing on her eyes hard enough to see stars. “I can’t kill him. I won’t. I… It would be wrong.”

Bo-Katan eyes her. “I’ll do it.”

Nova blinks. Once, twice. “Maker above.” She bites the inside of her lip, looking at her friend. Bo-Katan’s rigidity is back, her ice queen persona snapped and frozen into place. Din looks haunted, permeated by something torturous he can’t bring to light. And, as always, Nova is oscillating between the both of them, orbiting their morality, trying to find the will to either bend or break. For once, that black hole in the pit of her stomach just feels too massive, too full of possibilities. “No one is killing him. Besides,” she says, hoping this will prod at Bo-Katan’s facade, “this is bigger than Ben Solo. This is bigger than just Mandalore, or the Order, or the Rebels. This is bigger than all of us, Ezra included.” Pointedly, she stares at Bo-Katan, wielding Ezra’s name like a weapon.

It works. Bo-Katan’s front doesn’t shatter, but she falters.

“Who is he with?” Nova whispers.

Bo-Katan’s spine goes straight. “Nova—”

“Why are you so afraid? Is…is this other person a god, or something?”

“No,” Bo-Katan bites, “something of nightmares and legends, but absolutely not a god.”

Nova offers her a tiny smile. “So…they’re killable?”

“If Ezra couldn’t—didn’t—then I don’t know. Genuinely, Novalise, I do not know. This…man, if you can call him that…is terrifying.”

“How?”

Bo-Katan is staring out into space, a tiny crack in her armor showing.

“Bo-Katan,” Nova whispers, just as desperately as she tried to get through to Din earlier, “it’s me.”

“I don’t know,” Bo-Katan finally spits, seething. “I don’t know, Nova. I don’t know anything about him, really. Hera Syndulla would know more. Ahsoka would too.” She turns her burning gaze to Nova. “Where is Ahsoka, Novalise?”

Nova blinks. “She’s…she’s out there. She told me she’d show up when I needed her next. That our paths were destined to cross again.”

Bo-Katan snorts. “Typical Jedi nonsense, then.”

“I thought Ahsoka was your friend—”

“I have no friends!” Bo-Katan yells, “Not anymore.” She swallows. “Except you. And Wedge, when he’s not getting on my nerves. “And Din. I guess.” She gives Nova a glance out of the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and the words still sound so foreign coming out of her mouth. “Of course you’re all my friends. I don’t…I don’t know what’s going on. I’m… Things are getting…wrong.”

It shouldn’t make sense, but it does. Nova reaches out, grasping her friend’s hand.

“If I wasn’t so vehemently opposed to the notion,” Bo-Katan says, sniffing, “I would say Mandalore is cursed.”

“How can it be?” Nova asks, voice quiet, tucking her half-braid and curls underneath behind her shoulder, giving Bo-Katan an earnest, tiny smile. “It brought me to you.”

It’s the type of quip Bo-Katan would typically roll her eyes at, but instead they flicker, her lips quirking up at the edges. “There’s something off about all of this,” she whispers, finally, clutching Nova’s hand back, “Nova, can’t you sense it?”

Nova doesn’t say anything.

But that’s the problem. She does. And it’s seeped under her skin. It won’t scrub away.

Bo-Katan eventually disappears to sleep. After she’s beaten Nova seven times at Sabacc, effortlessly. Nova took over the helm hours ago, listless, afraid to fall back into sleep. She doesn’t want to have nightmares. She can’t fathom the fact that so much of the galaxy is disintegrating in her fingers. She’s always thought of saving the world colloquially, like a metaphor, even. But this…all of this feels too big. Bo-Katan is scared. Din is becoming unhinged. Nova has made herself an enemy out of so many people—Ben Solo, the First Order, Gideon and his cronies, the sinister laughter, the blue lightning, the myth that Ezra’s been missing in action with. They’re all congealing, coagulating like blood, staining her skin, her mouth, her heart.

“Hey.”

Nova jumps. “Stars, Wedge, you scared me.”

A small smile lights up her old friend’s face. “I thought I’d relieve you.”

Nova blinks. “How long have I been up here?”

Wedge cocks his head to the side, holding out his hand to help her off the pilot’s seat. Yawning, Nova takes it, sliding out of the chair. She cracks her neck to the side, realizing how tired she is. “Hours.”

Nova blinks. “Where are we?”

Wedge looks at the nav system. “Somewhere cresting through the Outer Rim. I don’t know where the—” he squints, “—Primea system is, but we’re not even close to the Unknown Regions yet. A way to go until we find where exactly the Chimaera’s distress call is coming from.”

Yawning, Nova nods. Her head is pulsing. “And then what?”

“Well,” Wedge says, crossing his arms over his chest, that familiar orange jumpsuit so warm in stark contrast to the blue and grey of Bo-Katan’s Mandalorian ship, “then we find Ezra.”

“Wedge,” she says, and then closes her mouth. “Do…do you think this is a stupid idea? Going after Ezra with no idea what’s out there waiting for us?”

Wedge studies her. “I think it’s a Rebel thing for us to do,” he says, grinning.

“I’m serious.” Nova’s voice almost wobbles. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispers, so softly, the truth of it laid bare. It’s something she would have admitted to her parents—she can picture Arokel’s troubled eyes, so like her own. She can feel Piper’s determination, coursing through her blood. But Novalise is tired, and the ghosts of the people she’s lost are just that—a specter, a haunting. Not a fortification, not a lifeline, not right now. “Wedge, what if we’re walking into a trap?”

Wedge studies her. “Nova,” he says, sighing, resting a strong hand on her shoulder, thumb clasped right against the curve of her neck like her father used to do, gently bringing her back down to earth, “we’ve walked into plenty of traps. You always come out swinging.” He stoops down to catch her eye. “I’m old. I’ve seen a lot of things, now. And I know this—even exhausted, even confused, you are a leader. Even when you don’t feel like one. Even when you don’t want to be. And that crown hangs heavy on your head, rebel girl.” He smiles softly, so much like her father that it makes Nova’s heart ache. “Go give your mind a break.”

And there’s so much Nova wants to say—so much, but she’s exhausted, and Wedge has given her permission, so she just sways into his hug, turns on her heel, and sinks into the belly of the ship to find her husband.

The room is so dark. Almost entirely blacked out, Nova stumbles through the door after the hiss has resounded, arms out in front of her as she fumbles toward the bed. Bo-Katan isn’t a lavish person, so the rooms are sequestered and small, with only a cot for the bed. It’s big enough for two bodies—if Din isn’t wearing his armor, which he decidedly is not. Nova feels around and locates the curve of his hip, fingers skating underneath the hem. His skin here is so soft—one scar travels up the bone, slightly raised against her touch.

Nova unhinges, pulling her jacket off, pushing her hair back behind her ears, closing her tired eyes. This is primal—folding her body against Din’s in the dark. It’s what she’s done since before she learned his name, since before he gave Nova her true one. Shivering, she draws her legs up, facing Din in the dark.

Slowly, she traces the bump of his hooked nose, gorgeous and hers even in the vantablack of the sleeping chamber. How familiar and foreign this feels at the same time—tracing the man underneath the Mandalorian, discovering everything that makes Din the man he is. She feels her heart turn over, drawing him closer, closer still—

“Nova?”

Her eyes fly open. “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she whispers, “but I’m here.”

His arms reach around to enfold her. They rustle in the dark. Nova’s enclosed against his chest, feeling Din’s heartbeat flutter in tandem with hers.

Din’s hand comes up, lazily, sleepily, to stroke through her hair, unraveling the top half from its braid. “Where’d you go?”

“I was keeping Bo-Katan company,” Nova whispers, inclining her head into the curve of his neck, “up in the cockpit.”

Din’s quiet for a moment. Then: “That’s not what I mean.”

In the dark, Nova feels her cheeks flush. “I’m nervous,” she admits, “about what this means. Bringing someone back who’s been missing for years. Whoever Ezra was with. Everything just feels…so much deeper. Bigger,” she corrects, licking her bottom lip. “Like we have more to lose.”

Din sighs into the dark. “We do have more to lose.”

Nova’s heart sinks, just a little bit.

“But,” Din says, exhaling through his nose, “it means we have more to fight for.”

Nova wraps her free arm around his back, skating under his shirt, taking careful note of the little groan he lets escape in the dark. Quietly, so quiet it’s like her words aren’t there at all, she breathes: “I thought you were tired of fighting.”

Nova’s almost asleep when Din’s answer floats out, right into the shell of her ear. “I am. But I’ll never get tired of following you into war.”

Nova’s dreams are in black and white again. Greyscale, like she’s seeing something ancient. Primal. Back before the galaxy existed.

Nova falls through the glimpse of this other side, this vantablack reality. And when Din appears, he’s wrong.

It’s palpable, the way he radiates. Metal, gunsmoke, danger—that sweet scent of cinnamon gone. Locked away, hidden behind beskar and steel. It’s everything she needs, everything she doesn’t—fear and desire, locked up together in ecstasy. She knows she’s dreaming—but she still needs him, craves him, feels him, everywhere—

“Din’s haunted,” a whisper cuts through the dark. Nova doesn’t know if it’s her own voice or something else entirely.

All she knows is that she doesn’t care.

Everything in this place is primal, attuned to a frequency only they can walk along. Nova watches, everything obsidian and mottled, hidden in shadow. Obscured. He’s obscured, too. His helmet—it’s visceral, his face underneath it all. Nova can feel it in the silence, in the dark.

Limbo. They’re both in limbo.

She needs him like a prayer. Something whispered into all that darkness, pleading for a higher power. He’s haunted, this version of him—the version of Din where he becomes the Mandalorian, nothing more.

In the dark of night, on a bed of velvet and honey, Nova watches him. Moonlit, shining only by the stars that surround them. They glitter and refract off the beskar like a million tiny shards of glass. He stands in the doorway while she rests, listless and unable to submit to sleep. He stalks her in the night like an animal, primal and terrifying.

“Do I scare you, cyar’ika?” he asks one night. Croons, like the taste of fear is tantalizing. Sweet. Nova shivers, her body only half-covered by the gossamer sheet. They’re both spinning, lost in this nothingness, equally bisected by all this darkness. It would be devastating if Din wasn’t here to share it. Even though he’s haunted. Even though he’s not himself.

Even though this is a dream.

It is a dream, right?

“Din—”

Gloved hands grab her ankles, throwing off her center of balance. He yanks her to the foot of the bed, throwing the sheet away. Nova tries to cover her body, but she watches the helmet slowly shake back and forth. An order.

“Do I,” he whispers, velvet and tungsten, “scare you?”

“You’d like if it I answered yes,” Nova whispers. “Wouldn’t you?”

It’s not really a question.

She can feel his teeth glint in the dark, white-hot, even underneath the visor. This Din doesn’t take his helmet off. Not now. Not ever. It comes to her in flashes, little vignettes—what he used to look like, what warmth used to live in his eyes. Now, he’s more Mandalorian than man, and she wants him to bisect her, to halve her, to tear her into shreds. Even if it’s just for a moment. Even if none of this is real. She wants him, low and desperate in her belly, and it drives her up to the stars. His gloved fingers are trailing up her legs, predatory.

“Do I scare you?” Visceral, through the modulator.

“Yes.��

His hand stops.

“Novalise.” It sounds like absolution, a prayer. A reprimand, sure, but something holy. Proof that he hasn’t forgotten who she is. Nova bites down on her bottom lip as Din’s rough, gloved hands start dragging up her thighs again. “Do you like it?”

He leans in closer. Nova feels something slide across her wrists, keeping her anchored in place. She doesn’t know what it is. She doesn’t care. “Din,” she whines, and his helmeted head is a knife through the air, landing an inch away from her cunt. Nova clenches down as he sniffs, inhaling through the modulator like he’s devouring her already, and her moan comes out broken in two.

“I can smell you,” he whispers, strangled. “You want me so bad, it’s killing you.”

“Yes,” Nova manages, her entire body shaking with want—with desire. She wanted it, then—yesterday, a million years ago—back on Naator. She’s always wanted it—to be Din Djarin’s prey.

But right now, he’s not Din Djarin. He’s the Mandalorian. And the distinction is blackened and honeyed, a dangerous, terrible thing. She doesn’t know where they are, what this place is—just that they were plunged into this vantablack and have become forged by it. Trial by fire, trial by desire—the circumstances change, but the story always remains the same.

“I want to devour you, sweet thing.”

That word again—it, too, feels divine and sacrosanct, living in the light, belonging to the dark.

Nova moans. “Do it.”

Din inhales again, a raggedy, wanton thing, and when Nova squirms, the blackness tightens around her wrists. She’s on display for him, this haunted man, and she’s an offering to whatever demon lives inside of him.

When he leans forward, fingers digging into her hips to draw her closer, Nova’s mouth opens into a starstruck O, pulling the sound clean out into the air. “Louder.”

“Maker,” she gasps—and then—

“Don’t pray to him,” Din grits out, his other hand snapping out of nowhere, clasping around her neck. “Your Maker’s not here. You worship me.”

Stars above. Nova doesn’t look away—she looks into that blinking, leaching blackness. He’s slick like an oil spill, her Mandalorian, and she’s caught in his gravitational pull. It’s inevitable. It’s everything.

Nova gives in.

“I worship you.”

“You’re a miracle, sweet thing,” he whispers, and through the modulator, it vibrates. His head is face-to-face with her pussy. Nova can’t really feel his breath—the helmet prevents it—but the memory of it is just as strong. “But in here, I’m your God.”

“Din,” she whispers, fallow and weak, hips jerking underneath his light touch, “please—”

When he pushes a finger inside, it’s thick. Unyielding. Without warning. This is what Din’s like inside of here, this husk of a man—something beyond material and metal. He’s both divine and sacrosanct. It’s stifling. Din’s head cocks to the side, considering. Outside the window—is it a window?—the stars are brutal and clear. Without remorse, he cocks it, curling it up inside of her, and Nova shudders.

“I want your words.”

“Feels—fuck, so good—”

“Is this enough, cyar’ika?” He leans closer, and Nova can still feel the imprint of his tongue from before, before the darkness swallowed them both, before this—and he pulls her closer, driving that gloved finger in deeper. Nova sobs. “Is it enough?”

“No,” Nova mewls, finally, “no, I need more—”

“Greedy,” Din interrupts, and then she’s being stretched open with two fingers, and she’s so close to the edge, tasting it, dancing on it—and then nothing.

“Please,” she manages, and when she looks up, Din’s helmet is obscured in shadow. He’s standing between her legs at the edge of the bed, staring down at her—she can feel his eyes, under there. They haven’t disappeared. A jolt strikes Nova, deep in her stomach. Deep brown, she reminds herself. Deep brown, like reflecting pools. The color of wet soil, the feeling of home.

“What do you want?”

Nova’s mouth falls open. “For you to come back to me.”

It’s not what she meant to say. Not what she intended on saying. But still, it’s here, and she can’t take the words back. For a second, the veil ripples—color floods back, color other than black and grey, other than that dulled starshine, and they’re back somewhere where the earth felt warmer. It rips through her like a lightning strike, sudden and unforgiving.

“I’m right here,” Din whispers, and then the hiss of the helmet disengaging. “I never left.”

Nova swallows. “Prove it.”

She can’t see him. She can’t see anything, and for a moment, it feels like he’s going to slink out of that darkness unrecognizable, and then she hears the unmistakable sound of Din popping his gloved fingers in his mouth, sucking every drop of her off of them. The moan that follows is so loud—it could shatter bone. Nova feels like it does, for a second.

“You’re so fucking sweet,” Din pants out. “So fucking—”

“Yours,” Nova manages, wanting to reach up to stroke his face, to move her thumb over his cheekbone, to anchor her back in reality. Her heart pounds, obsessive and unfettered, and her vision drops out as Din crawls over her.

“Need to fuck you,” he grunts out, and then his hands are fumbling at the clasp on his pants. Nova reaches up, trying to help, but that darkness keeps her anchored down. She kicks up, trying to get leverage— “Don’t you fucking leave me.”

Nova moans.

“You can’t go anywhere, Novalise.” One strong, gloved is anchored on her bare stomach, pushing down hard enough to keep her locked in place. “You belong here.”

Nova gasps, wanting to buck her hips up—not to run away, not to leave—but to get closer, and Din’s hands free his cock from his pants, and for a second she stops struggling, just staring at it. It’s always big—the bulge of it always swells in her belly—but in the half-light, it looks like it will spear her, split her in two.

“You can take me.”

“I need…” Nova writhes against the heat, staring at the head of Din’s cock, bead glistening, and her mouth waters.

“I know. I know, baby.”

“Please,” she begs, stars threatening behind her eyes, “please—”

“You don’t even know what you’re begging for,” Din croons, and his free hand slides off the base of his own dick to shoot around her throat, those same stars now supernovas, bleeding out obsidian, “do you?”

“For you,” Nova manages, “for you, always you, always, always you, Din—”

“You’re holy,” Din whispers, squeezing down once, “divinity.”

“Yes,” she manages, sweet tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, “but you—”

“I’ll drag you down to the darkness with me,” Din says, voice low and guttural, and then he pushes inside of her. No give. No take. Nova moans, a ragged, tortured thing, and Din slides all the way in, pounding into her, and she can’t take it, it’s everything, it’s devastating, it’s— “Look at me.”

He lets go, stars receding back to the dulled state outside that window. Nova tried, eyes attempting to find their locus in the darkness, but when she sees Din’s face, it’s just the darkness looking back.

It makes her cum so hard she sees black.

“Novalise—”

And she wakes up.

Nova thinks she yelps—a noise works its way out of her mouth, it’s devastating and dark, guttural, leftover from the dreamland.

Din, only a second’s delay, is up and taut next to her, his body tensed into warrior. “What?” he gasps, arms braced against her, breath hot in the obsidian of the tiny room. “What’s wrong, cyar’ika?”

When she doesn’t answer, trying to bring her heartbeat down to normal, to make it even-keeled, he repeats the words. A mantra, a prayer. Tears spring to life in her eyes, this desperate, fantastical dream. It felt real, so real—

“Dream,” she chokes out, finally, dragging a hand over her flushed, inflamed face, hands shaking from his mouth in between her thighs, the way he pushed into her, unyielding, relentless.

She knows he’s cocking his head to the side, considering. Nova doesn't need to see Din to know the way he moves. It’s ingrained in her—everything about him, grounded in muscle memory.

“Bad dreams?”

A laugh hitches like a hiccup in her throat. “I’m not sure.”

“What—” Din struggles, sitting up straighter. His bare hand trails up between her legs, and Nova thinks he’s still talking, but when he finds the apex of her thighs, he stops in the middle of his sentence. “Oh,” he says, low, pulsing, like it’s knocked the air out of his lungs. “Oh. What did you dream about, cyar’ika?” She can hear the proud smirk in his voice. She shivers, despite the heat of his touch.

“You,” Nova manages.

Din’s hand clenches down. It’s not enough to hurt, but right now, Nova wants it to bruise. She wants Din in every single reality, every single iteration—but this one, right here, this is the basest, realest version of him. She doesn’t need to resort to dreams. She doesn’t need anything except him.

“Is that all I get?” he croons, leaning in to lick a line up the column of her neck, stopping to flutter his tongue at her pulse point. That, enough, knocks her undone.

“I can’t explain it,” she gasps, feeling his teeth graze over the same spot, stars shooting out behind the back of her eyes. “I—just need you, please, Din, please—” she’s begging now, begging like she was in the dream, that alternate reality, where Din was razor-sharp and married to the poison. She wants to sink into his skin, here, now, and that’s not enough.

It’ll never be enough, she thinks, and then Din is maneuvering in the dark, with precision that only he’s ever had, notching his entire broad body between her legs, breath catching as he rips the strap of her top away from her collarbone. His teeth never leave, latching over and over as he makes his way down her body, bunching up the fabric of her shirt in his fist, yanking it away from the terrain of her stomach. Nova cries out, biting into the back of her fist to stay quiet—Bo-Katan’s ship is big, but not that big—

“Don’t you dare,” Din hisses, low and dangerous, “you scream for me.”

High and breathy, a moan works its way out of the open O of Nova’s open mouth. Din flutters his tongue somewhere below her bellybutton, desperate and spurred on. “Please,” she cries out, half delirious, not sure what she’s even pleading for—

Din grabs fistfuls of her pants and yanks down. Hard. Nova yelps as she’s exposed down to her knees, still shaking from her dream, shaking even more from the way Din’s unfurling here now.

“Louder,” he goads, and she can’t stand the blood rushing in her ears.

When he brushes his hand against the tender flesh of her inner thigh, Nova quakes. Desperate, pleading up to something high and holy above her, something she’s not even sure she believes in, Nova’s eyes roll back into her skull when Din’s mouth finally meets the apex of her thighs.

“Oh,” she cries, and he licks a line straight up to her clit. It’s everything. It’s devastating. It’s like her dream, but so much better because this is real, he’s real, and he’s devouring her like she’s that something holy, like she’s the only locus he’s fixated on.

His tongue feels alive, animalistic. Devour is the word Din used earlier—and devouring he is, bisecting Nova with his tongue. Desperate, she clutches her hands in his hair. Din moans at her touch—no matter how many times she’s done this exact thing, touching him in the dark always brings out that lust, that want. Nova can feel it as he’s trembling as hard as she is, tongue jittering as he licks her clean, over and over again. The tip of his tongue swirls around her clit again, and she’s so close, so close to the edge—it’s undone and divine. They’re sweating out confessions together—Nova’s in her head, Din mumbling them between her legs. Neither of them can vocalize it, make the words come aloud, but Nova knows they’re both pleading, crying, confessing—to whatever higher power they believe in, to the stars above themselves.

“Cum for me,” Din rasps out, and it’s both a demand and a plea, and Nova can’t take it anymore. When his tongue latches down, fingers plunging into her, desperate—she does. She lets go, loud and warbling, her moan just as shaky as she is. Over and over again, she does, stars supernovae in the back of her eyes, blood thundering in her ears.

She barely comes down to the earth when Din does it again, again, again. He fucks her with his tongue like it’s an apology, like it’s divinity—Nova can’t decide which. Only when they’re both falling from it does he stop, climbing up her body to kiss her on her open mouth, smearing her lips with her own taste, and Nova kisses him. She wants to crawl inside of his teeth, be swallowed down, and live in his heart. She can’t explain it, this longing, this despair. It owns her.

It knows her by name.

“Thank you,” she whispers, finally. It’s not enough, but it’s a start.

Din doesn’t say anything, just lurches forward to bury his face in her neck. On the comedown, both of them flutter off into sleep again, and the only thing Nova can think is that Bo-Katan was right.

Something is off. Something is bigger than they are—like they’re beginning a slow descent right into the eye of the storm.

Knocking on the door brings both Nova and Din back awake. Nova opens her eyes, bleary, remembering that her trousers are still somewhere around her knees, or maybe by now her ankles. She shivers, the warmth of their cocoon refusing to rise up and meet her. She pulls on her sweater, folding her arms against her chest.

A small sliver of light leaches into their darkness. Nova squints. It’s Bo-Katan. Her hair is askew, mussed from her own sleep.

“What’s going on?” Nova asks, yawning, and then something hits the ship.

Bo-Katan’s eyes are panicked. “We—we fell out of warp.” Another blast sounds, and the hull shutters. Din jackknifes up from the cot behind her. Nova wrenches open the door.

“Are we under attack?” he yells, loud and panicked, and adrenaline and fear jolt through her with equal intensity.

“Yes. Nova, you gotta pilot the ship,” Bo-Katan screams, over the noise, and Nova runs, grabbing hold of anything in the hallway she can to keep herself upright, seeing Bo-Katan lurch forward and grab Din’s forearm, dragging them both back down the hall to where the ship’s artillery is located.

“Wedge!” Nova screams, hurdling into the cockpit. His face is covered with a sheen of sweat, and he looks at her, panicked for the first time in years. She reaches forward, grabbing the controls, helping him anchor it back in place. “What the hell is happening?”

“Trap!” He yells back, the sound of gunfire too loud to hear anything but a whisper. “We crashed out of hyperspace, and all of these ships were—waiting for us.”

Nova, wild-eyed, jumps up onto the seat next to Wedge, whose arms are shaking. “How is that possible?”

He shakes his head, trying to regain control of Bo-Katan’s shaking vessel, but Nova bumps him with her hip. “Co-pilot,” she manages. “You’ve been up here for hours. I can hold her for a minute.”

Wedge’s mouth is set in a thin, firm line, but his eyes hold relief. Nova’s never flown this ship before—it’s decidedly not an X-Wing. But she can handle Kicker, so she can handle anything. She straps in, kicking the thrusters up as high as they’ll go, trying to get the warp to catch.

“Come on,” she whispers, and she feels the ship shake as Bo-Katan and Din find their footing, shooting back at the armada of ships that are firing at them. Large sharded pieces of asteroids fly into her vision. Nova plays the offensive, swinging and dodging, trying to keep them on a clear path as Din and Bo-Katan shoot their way to safety.

She looks down at the warp button, bleating a defeated cry. It’s broken—or damaged. A pulse of panic shoots through her bloodstream. “We can’t get out of here!” she cries. “Wedge!”

But as soon as they appeared, the ships encircling them pull back, disappearing behind the giant moon hanging on the horizon. Nova looks at the hyperspace drive again, and dives, lurching over the edge of an asteroid, ears still ringing in the sudden silence.

“We have to try,” she whispers, pushing at the button again. “They can’t have disappeared—Wedge!” She stops short as he slaps her hand away. “What the hell?” she asks, low, surprised, startled.

“Stop!”

A giant bang resounds. Nova flinches, realizing the bottom of the ship scraped across the asteroid.

“What?!”

“Stop!” Wedge cries again, finger stabbing at the navigation. “Stop, Nova—”

“I’m not doing anything!” she screeches, near hysterics, heart pumping out a million beats per minute. “Maker, Wedge, what?”

“We’re here!” He roars, and Din and Bo-Katan reappear at the cockpit’s edge. Nova stares down at the pixelated planet on the screen and back to the one appearing in front of them. It’s not a moon at all—it’s a cratered, white planet. Slowly, the noise from the rest of the ship filters back in, loud in the absence of all of the fighting outside.

“Primea,” Bo-Katan whispers. “How are we at Primea? This journey should have taken us at least three days—”

“Where’s Ezra?” Din asks, and Nova’s heart is in her throat.

“It cannot be this easy,” Nova breathes, shaking her head. That distress call—still from the Chimaera’s mothership, still blinking her callsign—is coming from a shuttle craft a few klicks down on the planet’s surface. “It cannot—”

“It’s not,” Bo-Katan says, her hair still in disarray, her face pale, discolored. “We’re walking into a trap.”

“Bo-Katan,” Nova whispers, uneven and erratic, “what choice do we have?”

Primea is a ghost town. It’s quiet. So quiet. Everything is salty and dusted in white—like snow without the chill. It’s so eerie here. The four of them walk in formation—Nova and Din in front, Wedge and Bo-Katan in tow. Four sets of boots crunch across the crystalline ground, eyes scanning the skies, the craters, waiting for the army to materialize, waiting to be swallowed up by whoever took Ezra.

“This is wrong,” Bo-Katan mutters, under her breath. “This is wrong.”

“Bo-Katan,” Din hisses, both of their voices modulated under their helmets, “keep it together.”

She doesn’t so much as shoot him a furious look. They’ve all seen–or felt—it enough times to know what it looks like under her helmet. Nova feels unsettled. She’s right. They’re walking a fault line, and no one can tell exactly where the crack is.

Nova skitters to a stop. “There.” She whispers it, but it sounds like a yell. Nature should not be this quiet. A tiny escape pod, grey like the Star Destroyer it was borne from, is splayed out across a crater, an overhang disguising where the color meets the sky.

Her heart is in her throat. She feels like she’s going to throw up.

“We should have an attack plan—” Wedge starts, but they’re already running. Novalise first, then Bo-Katan, then Din behind them, in quick succession. The four of them cross the open terrain, Nova’s hand on the Darksaber in her belt. With one glance at Din, Nova throws the saber to him, igniting her own—yellow, warmth seeping out sunlight onto this greyscale planet. Bo-Katan arms her wrist rockets, fists out to meet the air. Wedge’s blaster has been unholstered since the second his feet touched down on the ground.

Smoke is billowing out of the ship. Nova didn’t see it before, camouflage against the backdrop of the sky—but it’s impossible to miss now. Fear lurches into her stomach. When they reach the hatch, she leans forward, opening the pressurized door.

“Ezra?” Nova whispers, her voice shaky and childlike in the dark hull of the escape pod.

Frantically, they look around the ship, inside, outside, searching every tiny cranny, every impossible nook. It’s clear immediately, but they keep looking. Ezra isn’t here.

“Where is he,” Bo-Katan manages, panic ripping up an octave in her voice.

Wedge’s eyes bulge.

“What?” Din murmurs, looking over at him.

Blaring, on the dashboard, are two things.

The timelog reads the date—five and a half days after they left Mandalore. The four of them have been out of space and time for the better half of a week.

And the hologram button is blinking.

“What the fuck,” Bo-Katan states, angry and flat.

Shaking, Nova presses the hologram. His face—the shape of this phantom Jedi that’s visited her, warned her—blares up, azure and tiny. Din’s hand is at her waist, keeping her weak knees steady. Nova leans back into his gravity, hands trembling, heart terrified despite his anchor.

“If you’re watching this,” Ezra says, his voice tinny and distorted, “that means I’m too late.” He looks over his shoulder, panicked. The hologram glitches, flickers, and then it’s just his face—so like her own, Nova feels like a knife in her gut, almost like she’s looking into a mirror—and Ezra lurches closer. “And you guys need to run.”

WE'RE BACK BABY!!!! i hope you all loved it!! i am SO excited to bring this next and final installment in the Something More Series to life. thank you for being here, for staying through all my absence, and for reading—regardless if this is your first journey with Nova & Din or if you've been here since day one, you mean the world to me. <3

CHAPTER TWO WILL BE UP IN TWO WEEKS, SATURDAY, MARCH 25TH, 2023! (hoping posting every two weeks is an easier schedule to stick with this time).

LOVE YOU!

xoxo, amelie

#something holy #something holy fanfic #something more series #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x oc #din djarin smut #din djarin x novalise djarin #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x original character #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #amiedala

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thisaintascenereviews · 4 months

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Bring Me The Horizon - Post Human: Survival Horror

Bring Me The Horizon is one of the most popular bands in the world, and they can thank themselves for that, because they started experimenting with outside influences and styles outside of metalcore and deathcore. They started off as a deathcore band that a lot of people hated; I remember the disdain in full force, as I was a huge fan of them around 2008/2009, back when they dropped second album, Suicide Season. Even with that, they went into more of a metalcore sound with that album, but they were very heavy. During the early 2010s, when metalcore was at its most generic and derivative, Bring Me The Horizon released Sempiternal in 2013, and that record introduced alt-metal, nu-metal, and hard-rock into their sound, whereas 2015’s That’s The Spirit properly utilized those sounds and they didn’t have as many breakdowns and heavier moments. Things really changed with 2019’s Amo, in which the band doubled down their outside influences by including pop and electronic music. I really enjoyed that record, as it was the first time I enjoyed a BMTH album in years, but I wondered where they’d go from there.

Well, that’s where Post Human: Survival Horror comes into play. This was supposed to be the first of four EPs, so who knows if we’re getting the other three, but this came out around the start of the pandemic in 2020, and I remember listening to it a couple of times, but I didn’t think too much of it. Fast forward a few years later, and BMTH are not only one of the biggest bands in the world, they’ve been steadily dropping new songs, the latest of which being “Kool-Aid” just a couple of weeks ago, I thought I’d go ahead and revisit this album. It’s not quite an album, I guess, but it’s 32 minutes, so I don’t know. I figured I’d revisit this, and spend some time with it, because I didn’t have anything else to sink my teeth into. I also think it would be worth looking at in retrospect, just to see how well it’s aged, or if it hasn’t.

Thankfully, though, this record has aged quite well, but that’s kind of because Survival Horror seems to be at a crossroads for them. This album reintroduces some elements of metalcore, surprisingly. If you’re a fan of their older material, you’ll like a few tracks here, especially the opener, “Dear Diary,” which is some of the heaviest stuff they’ve done in awhile, but they’re still moving forward in their sound with songs like the Babymetal-assisted “Kingslayer,” or “1X1” with alt-metal / nu-metal duo Nova Twins. Songs like these are both heavy and catchy all at once, but you do have some softer moments, too, such as “Obey” with Yungblud, where it does have some heavier stuff in it, but the backbone of the song is very pop-focused. I’m not personally a huge fan of Yungblud, and I’d say that’s the song that probably works the least for me, but its hook is still really solid.

Closing track “One Day The Only Butterflies Left Will Be In Your Chest” not only has a song title that sounds like it would have been in the mid-00s, but Evanescence’s Amy Lee is featured on this ballad, and my god, it’s gorgeous. This song sounds beautiful. Her angelic vocals add a level of gravitas that makes it work really well, but it’s such a great closer. It’s a great ending for a half hour record, and it never feels as though it’s too long or dragging. This record has the distinction of having songs that are memorable and are distinguished from each other, but they all flow together, nonetheless. Frontman Oliver Sykes is a good reason for that, too, and I haven’t mentioned him much here so far, but wow, he’s so good. His voice has gotten better over the years, and he has a good range within his clean vocals and harsh vocals, but the addition of harsher vocals on this record is a good one, because he handles it well.

The rest of the band is good, too, and the instrumentation is a good complement to him. This record isn’t all just pop hooks and breakdowns, either, but to be fair, the hooks are really good. Sykes and company are one of the best bands in this style that utilize hooks, and Sykes has a way with writing catchy hooks, and this record is no exception. I hadn’t listened to this album in a few years, and I remembered it quite well. There are a handful of really cool riffs and solos, too, and it’s surprising coming from this band, but I perked my ears up every time I heard something interesting and that did something cool, such as a solo, a really unique breakdown, or something interesting, but I enjoy this quite a lot. If you’re like me, and you jumped ship after a certain point with these guys, or you still like them and just want to see them go back to a heavier sound, you’ll probably like this. The best thing about this record is that it doesn’t feel as though they’re trying to pander, but they’re just trying to incorporate older sounds, and it works very well. If anything, and from the new songs they’ve put out, too, I’m excited for another record from these guys.

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addictedtooverwatch · 1 year

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Overwatch 2 - Season 4 Roadmap

Alright, we got a roadmap today for Season 4 today!

Beginning on Tuesday April 11th, we'll be getting a bunch of new stuff including all of the following:

The newest support character - Lifeweaver.

B.O.B and Weave (April 11th - 25th): it'll be a 3v3 deathmatch featuring Lifeweaver and a B.O.B per team to celebrate the Thai New Year.

Starwatch: Galactic Rescue (May 9th - 22nd): it'll be a 4v4 game mode on a reworked Horizon Lunar Colony where you'll be battling your way through new objectives and surprises with some select heroes.

Gardening Symmetra Challenge (May 23rd - 29th): you'll be able to complete in in-game challenges to earn this skin along with other spring-based rewards.

Talantis (April 25th - May 1st): you'll be able to play on a Twitch made control map in the Arcade; it contains death pits, jump pads, and a lot of giant fish!

The 1st Overwatch Pride Event: Starting on June 1st, 2023 there will be a Pride event in Overwatch 2! We will be getting more information about the event the close we get to it.

There's going to be a lot going on in Season 4 and I couldn't be more excited, especially for the upcoming Pride event! I'll definitely be talking about it once more information comes out. ~ Nova.

Here are my sources: PlayOverwatch's Twitter and Blizzard News.

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #lifeweaver #pride month

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moonchild-in-blue · 8 months

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💿 Music tag game 💿

Rules: shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist & post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people 🎶

Thank you so much for the tag @a-s-levynn and @reveries-of-my-mind, I love doing these 💖

This was very hard for me because I don't use Spotify. I listen to music like I'm still in the 00's 🙃. So here's some of my recent plays off youtube + music player combined (yes, all the ST is from YouTube. I kinda like them or whatever).

I'll be tagging @dearscone @murderofcrow @vesselsscarlet. Like always, no pressure, and if anyone wants to do it, here's a tag 🔖.

#i still unironically use windows media player #call me old i don't care. i tried spotify but i hated it so much. i don't like change lmao #tag game #music tag #Spotify #darya's mixtape

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xasha777 · 2 months

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In the shadow of the abandoned cathedral on Terra Nova, Zara sat motionless, her gaze fixed on the horizon. She was a kaleidoscope in human form, her hair a vibrant canvas of interstellar nebulas, and her eyes mirrored the depth of black holes. The tattoos on her arms were not mere ink but living circuits, flowing with the data streams of a thousand worlds.

She was a renegade code-slinger, once a leading operative of Space Delta 6, the clandestine organization charged with maintaining the delicate balance of the multiverse. Her mind was a repository of secrets that could alter the course of history. To many, she was a ghost, a legend spoken of in hushed tones in the cyber pits of the galaxy.

But Zara had defected, tired of the shadow games and the endless conflict. Now, she trafficked in the most dangerous commodity known to sentient beings: information. Her current client, a mysterious entity known only as the Archivist, had promised her a fortune for a piece of data she had stolen during her last mission for Space Delta 6. It was the blueprint of an ancient technology capable of harnessing the power of black holes.

As the twin suns of Terra Nova dipped below the skyline, casting a crimson glow over the crumbling edifices, Zara’s neural implants hummed to life. She sensed them before she saw them—agents of Space Delta 6, cloaked in the shadows, weapons charged with energy that could disintegrate her at a subatomic level.

The chase was on.

Zara leaped from the cathedral steps, her enhanced reflexes allowing her to dodge streams of plasma fire. She dove into the labyrinthine alleys of the neon-drenched city, her chameleon cloak flickering with the surrounding colors, making her almost invisible.

The agents were relentless, but Zara was a wraith, her body augmented for this dance of death. She slipped through cracks in the reality fabric, used forgotten subways where the ghosts of ancient trains still howled, and scaled vertiginous buildings with the ease of a specter.

Her destination was the Archivist’s haven, a place out of time, located in the heart of a derelict space station orbiting a dying star. It was said that the Archivist collected not just data, but the very essence of knowledge, the echo of thoughts lost to the aeons.

After what felt like an eternity, Zara arrived at the docking bay, her pursuers mere steps behind. With a swift movement, she activated the ancient device, its power thrumming through her. Reality bent around her, and she stepped into the Archivist’s realm just as the agents closed in.

The haven was an endless library, its shelves stretching into infinity, filled with the wisdom of countless civilizations. In its center, the Archivist awaited, a being of pure energy and thought.

"You have done well, Zara of Terra Nova," it spoke in a voice that resonated with the sound of the cosmos.

She handed over the data, knowing that she had just altered the fate of the multiverse. But Zara was not done playing her part in this grand drama. The balance had shifted, and Space Delta 6 would soon learn that there was more to fear in the galaxy than a rogue operative.

They would have to contend with the keeper of knowledge itself, and Zara would be its sword and shield. The war for freedom had just begun, and Zara was its harbinger.

In the fading light of the dying star, Zara made a silent vow. She would return to Terra Nova, not as a fugitive, but as a liberator. And the legends would speak of her as the warrior who rode the light of black holes into battle, her hair a banner of rebellion, her eyes the promise of a new dawn.

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jandrewnelson-blr · 2 months

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The Barefoot Chronicles: Strolling Through Rio's Legendary Sands

Imagine a place where the sun kisses your skin, the sand is your throne, and the waves applaud your entrance. Welcome to Rio, where the beaches are like the city's dating profile – photogenic, fun-loving, and always ready for a good time. Whether you're here to flex your volleyball skills, perfect your tan, or simply sip caipirinhas while the ocean serenades you, Rio's beaches have got you covered. So, slap on some sunscreen, leave your worries behind, and let's dive into the sandy escapades of Brazil's most flirtatious coastlines. Who knows? You might just fall in love – or at the very least, develop a serious crush on a coconut."

Rio de Janeiro, a city where the vibrance of urban life seamlessly blends with the tranquil beauty of nature, is globally renowned for its breathtaking beaches. These stretches of sand are not just places to bask in the sun; they are the heartbeats of Rio's culture, offering a glimpse into the carioca way of life. This blog post will take you on a journey through some of Rio's most famous beaches, showcasing their unique charms and why they're a must-visit for anyone traveling to this sun-soaked paradise.

Copacabana: The Iconic Crescent

Starting with the most iconic of them all, Copacabana Beach is a name synonymous with Rio de Janeiro. Stretching over 4 kilometers, this beach is famed for its golden sands and the promenade lined with black-and-white Portuguese pavement in a distinctive wave pattern. Copacabana is more than just a beach; it's a vibrant community where locals and tourists alike gather to play volleyball, sunbathe, and indulge in caipirinhas from the kiosks dotting the shoreline. The New Year's Eve celebration here, with its spectacular fireworks display, is a sight to behold, drawing millions from around the globe.

Ipanema: The Trendsetter

Immortalized in the bossa nova classic "The Girl from Ipanema," this beach epitomizes Rio's chic and trendy side. Nestled between Arpoador and Leblon, Ipanema is the quintessence of Rio's beach culture, with its clear blue waters and social scene. Each section of Ipanema Beach attracts different crowds, from families to sports enthusiasts and the LGBTQ+ community, making it a melting pot of cultures and lifestyles. The setting sun behind the Two Brothers Mountain, viewed from Ipanema, offers an unforgettable spectacle, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

Leblon: The Sophisticated Sibling

Just west of Ipanema lies Leblon Beach, known for its laid-back atmosphere and sophisticated flair. Preferred by families and those seeking a more tranquil beach experience, Leblon offers all the beauty of its more famous neighbors but with a quieter vibe. The beach is backed by the upscale neighborhood of Leblon, brimming with chic cafes, boutique shops, and some of Rio's finest restaurants. The Mirante do Leblon, a viewpoint at the beach's western end, provides panoramic views of the coast, making it a perfect spot for photos or a moment of reflection.

Arpoador: The Surfer’s Haven

Arpoador Beach is famed for its excellent surfing conditions, especially during the winter months when the waves are at their best. This small strip of sand, located at the end of Ipanema and the beginning of Copacabana, is also beloved for its rock formations that offer spectacular sunset views. Surfers and non-surfers alike gather on the rocks each evening to applaud the sun as it dips below the horizon, a local tradition that captures the communal spirit of Rio's beach culture.

Prainha: The Secluded Sanctuary

For those willing to venture a bit further, Prainha Beach is a secluded sanctuary located about an hour's drive from the city center. Surrounded by rolling hills and lush Atlantic Forest, Prainha offers a more intimate connection with nature. Its crescent-shaped beach and smaller crowds make it a favorite among surfers and anyone looking to escape the hustle and bustle of Rio's more popular beaches.

The Bottom Line

Rio de Janeiro's beaches are more than just picturesque landscapes; they are where the essence of carioca life unfolds. Each beach, with its unique character and charm, invites visitors to experience the joy, relaxation, and vibrancy of Rio. Whether you're soaking up the sun on the iconic sands of Copacabana, catching waves at Arpoador, or enjoying the tranquil beauty of Prainha, Rio's beaches offer something for every type of traveler. So, grab your sunscreen and prepare to immerse yourself in the famous beaches of Rio—a truly unforgettable adventure awaits.

Jerry Nelson is a seasoned travel writer and passionate storyteller, known for his vivid portrayals of global destinations. With a particular fondness for Rio de Janeiro, Jerry delves deep into the city's heart, exploring its iconic beaches, vibrant culture, and spirited locals. His work not only captures the visual splendor of Rio but also its soul, offering readers a taste of carioca life. When he's not chasing sunsets on Copacabana or dancing to samba rhythms, Jerry shares his adventures through captivating blog posts, inspiring wanderlust in his followers. Join him as he unveils the magic of Rio, one story at a time.

Ready to infuse your brand with stories that captivate, inspire, and transport your audience to the heart of your message? Let Jerry Nelson, with his keen eye for detail and passion for storytelling, craft content that resonates with your audience, whether it’s for social media, your website, or any other platform. Dive into a world where words create connection, engagement, and action. Contact Jerry today and let's embark on a journey that turns your vision into captivating narratives, making your brand unforgettable. Don't just share content; tell stories that matter. Reach out now and watch your brand's story unfold.

#1. Copacabana Beach #2. Carnival Festival #3. Christ the Redeemer #4. Samba Music #5. Ipanema Beach

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horizonforbiddenwestdownload · 4 months

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Where i Can Download Horizon Forbidden West

Horizon Restricted Western world Finish Journal regarding COMPUTER Belgium

Sylens reveals that will HADES recognized him nearly Nemesis plus program to escape Globe, yet undergoes a difference connected with sympathy and also concludes to be able to utility Aloy in opposition to Nemesis. Aloy's companions distribute for you to smooth out the caution connected with Fate while Aloy and also Beta reactivate GAIA. Zo (Erica Luttrell), a part with the regional Utaru tribe, manual Aloy to your power heart in which she responds GAIA with the woman subsystem MINERVA.

GAIA identifies one other subsystems, AETHER, DEMETER, in addition to POSEIDON, in addition to informs Aloy to retrieve them already trying to seize the new improvement HEPHAESTUS. GAIA exposes the extinction gesture in which brought about HADES as well as transformed the subsystems originated in the Sirius system; Aloy expects how the futuristic human being sent this. Behind their own colony on Sirius crumpled, the Peaks taken back to Soil to utilize GAIA by means of Beta's genetic structure with regard to their particular recolonization. They currently acquired subsystems ELEUTHIA, ARTEMIS, and APOLLO, nevertheless Beta gets appropriated the GAIA burn. After accomplishing the item, they discover indicators that Londra have got record the skip Quen crew and possesses ended up being forcing them just before dig out their other secret headquarters.

Aloy additionally comes with a preference regarding father a intimate association with Seyka prior to temporarily parting methods. Nova makes clear that Londra aims to work with the skyrocket to consider himself along with a pick out number of Quen and genetic collection save by the Quen voters to be able to get back a brand new nest faraway from the danger associated with Vengeance. On the other hand, to ensure that his followers is not going to tell him, Londra reactivated his or her Revolution Suppression Protocol investigation, working with the idea near brainwash Quen in living his / her loyal fans. Nova subsequently deactivates Londra's protection measures in return for pertaining to Aloy eliminating the woman's consequently the girl can certainly eventually live no cost by Londra's regular twisting associated with your ex personality matrix. Seyka after that gets involved, pushing Londra for you to escape to his or her hollow under the Showmanship Signal.

In which i will Download Horizon Prohibited Western side is really a 2022 steps role-playing online game put together by Guerrilla Tough as well as made public through Sony Interactive Leisure. In the 24th century, a nasty opposition between the extrasolar colonies of Helghan and Vekta erupts straight into violence. Being a participant in the Interplanetary Strategic Alliance, you’re deployed to stop the expanding Helghast internet marketer now its observes. Helghast drives say mounted a ruining counter-attack, occasion the ISA emigration of earth Helghan. What brand new Helghast battalions seem, armed with more potent systems, you get yourself outmanned, outgunned and encircled.

Horizon Stop European Download Personal personal computer Illuminated with Fewer than 140 Characters

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Aloy trail Sylens with a facility where your woman notices HADES seriously scratched as well as eternally removes the item. Your lover claims a GAIA back-up without it is subsystems although stays disturbed with a Horizon Forbidden West Download PC troupe of advanced humans. Time as soon as the wipe out associated with Remote Zenith, Sylens notifies Aloy that particular Zenith fellow member, aerospace magnate Walter Londra, remains unaccounted with regard to.

Horizon Forbidden Western side been given usually good magazines from critics, as well as taken gone over 8.4 mils groups by simply Apr 2023. The overall game also the Shed Shores expansion ended up being collected cool along with re-released since Horizon Forbidden Western side - Complete Journal with regard to PlayStation 5 upon 6 Oct 2023, and may issue intended for Spaces throughout early on 2024. Aloy heals AETHER when stopping Hekarro increase from the civil war and obtains POSEIDON from your ruins associated with Vegas. Journeying to be able to Ca, your woman expertise the Quen, a foreign tribe attempting to solve environmental situations of their home. Soon after getting a high-level clearance on the secret bunker-turned-tomb of a mutated Ted Faro (Lloyd Owen) inside damages associated with Bay area, Aloy aids GAIA for you to pitfall HEPHAESTUS yet lives assaulted because of the Zeniths. Erik eliminates Varl and also recaptures Beta while Gerard steals GAIA, but Tilda double-crosses them then advantages Aloy escape.

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govindhtech · 8 months

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Explore Intel Nova Lake CPUs’ 2026 features

2021 was the year that saw the first discovery of information pertaining to the Nova Lake family of processors developed by Intel. Back then, it was projected that the family would debut in 2025 with a significantly revised Core architecture aimed at the desktop enthusiast market. This was the expectation. This would be analogous to the manner in which AMD’s Ryzen processors of the first generation enhanced overall performance.

There have been no new advancements pertaining to this family since the previous update; however, currently, sources close to Moore’s Law Is Dead claim that Nova Lake is still in the works, despite the fact that its launch window has been unexpectedly shifted to H2 2026. MLID also provides a number of preliminary specifications, although it is highly doubtful that these will be finalized at this juncture due to the vast time horizon.

In the second half of the year 2026, Nova Lake, the successor of Arrow Lake Refresh, would be made available for public consumption. It would have up to 180 MB of last level cache, as well as P-cores with a maximum of 16 rentable units, E-cores with a maximum of 32, and LP cores with a maximum of 4. It is possible that it was fabricated utilizing nodes from either Intel’s own 14A manufacturing process or TSMC’s N2P fabrication process.

Even though Intel has claimed that it should no longer be dependent on TSMC’s manufacturing nodes by the year 2025, it looks that Nova Lake may still be built mostly on TSMC’s N2P nodes, if not fully on Intel’s replacement of the 18A node, which MLID refers to as the 14A node. This is despite the fact that Intel has stated that its dependence on TSMC’s manufacturing nodes should halt by the year 2025. Everything rests on whether or not Intel can successfully ramp up manufacturing of angstrom nodes over the next few years.

For the time being, it is projected that Nova Lake will consist of a maximum of sixteen rentable unit performance cores (owing to developments in hyperthreading technology), thirty-two improved efficiency cores known as Arctic Wolf, and four low power efficiency cores. The performance that this core count should deliver should be sufficient to compete with whatever comes after AMD’s Zen6 processors in the year 2026.

This central processing unit (CPU) should be able to compete with whatever comes after AMD’s Zen6 processors because it offers single-thread performance boosts of 20–40% higher than Arrow Lake and a massive boost of 60+% higher than the next Raptor Lake Refresh. It is projected that high-end Core Ultra 9 processors may include as much as 180 MB of cache memory at the very last level, while Core Ultra 7 computers may acquire as much as 144 MB of cache memory.

The information that was received through MLID’s prior leaks indicated that AMD will most likely debut its Zen6 processors by the end of 2025, while the launch of the Zen7 might take place as early as 2027. If Intel were to launch Nova Lake at the end of 2026, the company’s primary objective would be to play catch-up and unseat Zen6 as the market leader, not Zen7.

Because of this, Intel’s release schedule would become wildly out of sync, and the company would continue to lag behind AMD by one step for the foreseeable future. This would put Intel in a worse position than AMD.

#govindhtech #technology #technews #news #cpu #amd #intel #arrowlake #novalake

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sheetmusiclibrarypdf · 1 year

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Aguas de Março - Tom Jobim (Easy Piano Solo arr. sheet music)

Antonio Carlos Jobim - Aguas de Março - Tom Jobim Easy Piano Solo arr. sheet music

Antonio Carlos Jobim - Aguas de Março - Tom Jobim Easy Piano Solo arr. sheet music Best Sheet Music download from our Library. Please, subscribe to our Library. Thank you! Elis Regina & Tom Jobim - "Aguas de Março" - 1974 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AW5CGyjBNaQ The Brazilian author proclaims the end of summer without using melancholy but invoking the cathartic shock, the torrent that washes everything away and imposes the forced regeneration. A song that reached universal diffusion in the voice of Elis Regina.

Subdued bossa nova rhythm, sustaining the slender melody, in contrast to the bumpy route proposed by the lyrics of Aguas de março : "It's the stick, it's the stone, it's the end of the road", begins by saying this song in which Antônio Carlos Jobim portrays the end of summer not so much as an exercise in melancholy, a habitual resource, but as a cathartic jolt, implying that this time of the year is a metaphorical torrent through which everything rolls down the mountain unceremoniously, like a natural force irrepressible and a forced invitation to regeneration. March is, in Brazil, the month that marks the sunset of summer, and Jobim took advantage of it to build this theme whose text becomes a collage of images that invoke the sudden change of time. That time of the year brings with it "the night, death, the lasso, the hook" and "the deep mystery, whether you like it or not," says the song with a language endowed with a vague mysticism and that alludes to recognizable images in culture. Brazilian: the jug of cane (with which to drink cachaça ), the peroba do campo (native tree) and the matita pereira (bird of bad omen), figures that disappeared in the version of the theme in English that Jobim himself would perform. The águas de março point to the untimely passage towards death, at the same time that they open “a precious horizon” (playing with the name of the city Belo Horizonte) and “a promise of life in your heart”. Jobim, the most transcendental author of bossa nova, had come to an understanding with poets and lyricists such as Vinícius de Moraes in the classic Garota de Ipanema , Corcovado or the baptismal Chega de saudade , but here he signed both the music and the lyrics of the piece. He wrote it in his new house in Poço Fundo, in a rural environment, several hours from Rio de Janeiro, a place where he wanted to distance himself from the mundane amusements typical of the big city. As if the mansion were predestined, it would end up being leveled by Mother Nature, in a devastating episode of storms in 2011, 17 years after the composer's death open “a precious horizon” (playing with the name of the city Belo Horizonte) and “a promise of life in your heart”. Although Jobim soon recorded his own version, in 1972, the take that achieved the greatest repercussion was the one recorded that same year by Elis Regina on the album Elis, which was followed by Tom & Elis (1974), a quote from both talents on MGM Studios in Los Angeles. This version was widely distributed worldwide, and which Frank Sinatra came to describe as "the closest thing to perfection".

Elis Regina & Tom Jobim - "Aguas de Março" - 1974

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E1tOV7y94DY Read the full article

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ophiuca · 1 year

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Oc tags

Realized that I’m using tags for my ocs more and that I should maybe explain what they mean? The main four are for my characters I’ve played with in Masks: A New Generation, which is a game I highly recommend! It’ll be a pretty long post so I’ll cut it off here.

😇 #Birdcage is for Isodora Maleciel (she/her and they/them), the angel daughter of a very powerful supervillain named Event Horizon. She’s got statues of herself in many of the banks in the city, a decently popular propaganda CW-esque tv show about her and her daughter’s life, a fierce rivalry with the local speedster Swift Wind and Tech CEO Max Million, and of course a secret lair on the moon. Isodora looks suspiciously almost exactly like their mother, aside from their hair, which they dye a platinum blonde from its natural black. Other than that, her large black wings, green eyes, and black horns that wrap around her head like a circlet make her instantly recognizable to basically anyone in the city. She decided that she didn’t want to follow her mother and became the magic hero Astarte, using her sorcery to protect people no mater how they felt about her. They ended up marrying their three teammates, (Sabrina Spencer (she/her), Nova Moretti (she/her), and Hermes Shapiro-Vogel (ve/ver) (the child of Swift Wind), and they eventually have a very magical daughter named Talia (she/her) together. Isodora is a trans girl, is pan and also polyam! She loves her partners a whole lot and loves spending time with them, even if she doesn’t really understand what’s going on much. You can find my pinterest board for Isodora here! featuring art from my friend @liatrelle!

😇 😇 😇 😇 😇 😇 😇 😇 😇 😇 😇 😇 😇 😇 😇

🎮 #of course you have purple hair and lightning powers is my tag for Lucille ��Elly” Lovelace (she/her), a purple haired twitch streamer, library makerspace manager, lesbian disaster, and pretty okay best friend. She spends her days working, hanging out with her very genderfluid bestie Olivia Efflorescence (they/them) who also goes by Ollie (she/her), or Liv (he/him), and definitely not fighting villains as the superhero Lady Lightning, a woman who wears an all purple power ranger-esque costume with lightning motifs and has electromagnetic powers. She also spends her nights not doing that as well as streaming as lightspeedluvlace. Elly and Liv found out about her powers when they were younger, and used it as an excuse to escape from their very shitty families and live together in Halcyon city. They’ve recently gotten pretty stable living situations, or well, Elly would if she wasn’t a workaholic who does way too many things at once. She’s recently met and formed a team with Talia Spencer-Maleciel-Shapiro-Vogel-Moretti, who has mysteriously been thrown into the past a few years before she was even born, Tiktok conspiracy star February “Freddy” Dawson (he/him), and Henrietta “Henry” Pawline (she/her) a petty jock catgirl. Elly has a bit of a crush on Talia, but worries about what that means if she goes back to the future. Her fursona is a purple bunny girl and she’s a little embarrassed that you know that now. She’s a cis lesbian, but in the “my gender is lesbian” way. Elly’s story takes place about eight years after Isodora’s.

🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮 🎮

♓ #manic jelly dream girl ZOE MY BELOVED!!! Princess Threazoenine of The Myrine Dynasty (she/her) is from the planet Nalydea, a planet completely covered in water orbiting Pisces Alpha. She is a pink shapeshifting jellyfish alien who came to earth as part of a family mission to forge mutual defense pacts with other planets in case Nalydea is targeted, as they do not make any sort of weapons. Zoe fell in love with Earth almost instantly, and ran away during a press conference, to the annoyance of her parent and older sisters. She ran right into AEGIS Agent Bryce Gallant, who was eventually assigned to protect her when she convinced her family to let her stay on earth for a bit. Enamored with the superhero culture of Halcyon City, she decided to join Bryce’s team as the hero Prominence. Bryce had been placed on a team with fellow hero school graduate who she very much did not get along with Æsh, and superhero mentee Jess Arora, who Zoe developed a very strong crush on. They then dated for about two weeks before having the messiest breakup ever. And then kinda mostly got back together. Zoe’s powers include: shapeshifting, star generation (including heat and gravity manipulation), flight, having a telepathically controlled hoverbike, no bones, no lungs, no heart, jellyfish venom, bioluminescence, being very easy to talk to, getting drunk from caffeine, and water manipulation. She also has a cool scar that she got from being stabbed by a sword protecting her family. Aside from Earth in general, Zoe loves dinosaurs (there are a bunch that live on Nalydea’s moon), fashion and wearing frilly clothes, kissing cute girls, and spending time with her friends. As an alien, she doesn’t really have a conventional gender or sexuality, but if someone explained things to her she would probably consider herself a girl and sapphic. Her pinterest board is right here! and I would love to link the commission I got of her from @smallpolar-bear!!!!!! Zoe’s story is set 29 years after Isodora’s, the same time period that Talia is from.

♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓ ♓

🩸 #violet the teenage witch is the tag for my most recent character, Violet Chiwake (fae/faer), also known as the supervillain Vampire. Fae lives with faer aunt and her wife in Halcyon City after faer mother got scared that fae developed powers. Violet is a witch who uses blood magic, something that for the most part is not approved of by society. It’s not like Violet chose faer powers or anything. Fae was caught with faer mentor in the middle of a robbery and lied during faer trial that fae was tricked onto the wrong path and just needed a chance to fix things. This worked too well and Violet ended up at hero school with a bunch of people who fae is extremely wary of. Violet is goth, a femme trans lesbian, and very upset that faer life has become a disaster (teenage drama queen). Fae enjoys practicing faer magic, collecting interesting ear jewelry, being around people who don’t think fae should be in jail, and stealing valuables. Violet is also searching for faer best friend Selene Hellström (she/her) an extremely high energy fireworks themed villain who was sent off to boarding school by her parents. You can find Violet’s pinterest board here! (cw for blood makeup) Violet’s story takes place 15 years after Isodora’s.

🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸 🩸

I’ll probably mostly be talking about these four, and if you read this far uh. wow thank you I hope you enjoy knowing more about the girls in my brain!

#Birdcage #of course you have purple hair and lightning powers #manic jelly dream girl #violet the teenage witch

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parkerbombshell · 2 years

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The British are Coming #592

The British are Coming Tuesdays 10:00pm -11:30 pm EST bombshellradio.com Repeats Wednesdays 8:00am - 10:00am EST Matt plays 20 of the best up-and-coming indie, alternative, and rock artists in the UK, some of which you know, but many more that will be new music discoveries. Matt’s deep knowledge of UK music scene and his ear for a banger make The British are Coming a must-listen on Bombshell Radio. #TheBritishAreComing, #Alternative, #Indie, #Rock, #NewMusic, #BombshellRadio Matt Dalzell @britdjmatt Pomona Park - Pillow Talk Lower Loveday - Do You Ever Look Spangled - Charlie Hills Dirty Blonde - Don't Mess With Mother Peacock Method - Your Faith Young Decades - Pendulum The Shop Window - Dancing Light Fauna - It's the way Burning Juniper - Whats The Point Dark Tropics - Midnight 10th of December Nova Hall - So Close Blab - Age Gracefully Rews - The World That You Left Behind National Service - Repeater Jamie Wooding - 2 Kids (In Love) Emperor Of Ice Cream - Winter Pages Damefrisor - Horizon Human Interest - Mixing Paint Priestess - Rewind Jody And The Jerms - Last Ones Standing. New Arcades - Edge Of Oblivion Jadu Heart - I Shimmer The British are Coming Podcasts Read the full article

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tehscud · 3 years

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Scudsworth Productions Can't Play - Animal Crossing New Horizons - Part 4

Scud and Nova wants to show you around our wonderful island in ACNH. Relaxing hangs ahoy!

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cha-melodius · 3 years

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Fic vibes tag thanks to @heytheredeann.

Above the break are works and series currently in progress, as well as recently published standalones. Feel free to drop into my ask box if you have and questions or comments about them or any of my other fics! Full fic list under the break. Main links are to AO3.

Kiss Ficlets on Tumblr (Firstprince, Napollya, Lokius)

RWRB, Alex/Henry

So Close to Something Better Left Unknown (spy AU, fuck or die) cover art on tumblr

False Dichotomy (You’ve Got Mail AU) cover art on tumblr

Trying My Patience (Try Pink Carnations) (florist/cake artist wedding AU)

You're the Perfect Gift for Me (Alex is a Hallmark movie ‘bad guy’ AU)

TMFU, Napoleon/Illya

Playing Cat and Mouse with the Light (non-linear partners-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers)

The Harrowed and the Haunted (paranormal investigator AU)

Black Moon (For All Mankind/space AU)

Just a Shot Away from You (5+1 ordered to kill each other)

Loki Series, Loki/Mobius

Enemies of the Ocean (stranded on a lifeboat AU)

Cold Light (Norway AU)

True Hollywood Romance (fake-dating actor AU)

Don We Now Our Gay Apparel (ugly holiday sweater office AU)

RWRB, Alex/Henry

This Hell of a Season (Nova-verse spies Christmas 3+1) cover art on tumblr

Taste the Way You Bleed (WWDITS AU)

In the Dog Days (supernatural/magic AU)

Falling Down the Stairs of Your Smile (canon-divergent Kensington hookup AU)

Something To Be Proud Of (Edinburgh Pride AU)

Lessons in Foreign Diplomacy (1785 ambassadors AU)

Will You Brie Mine? (cheesemonger AU)

Step Into My Office, Baby (office AU)

Getting Clinical (STI clinic meet-cute AU)

Theory and Practice (rival grad students AU)

That's My Trouble (detective/ME AU)

Please Don’t Let Me Be So Understood (accidental couples therapy AU) cover art on tumblr

Always Where I Need To Be (roommates AU + David cuteness)

The Sky is Open (1970s Pan Am pilots AU)

All the Old Showstoppers (canon-divergent Celebrity Bake Off AU) cover art on tumblr

Nova, Baby (CIA/MI6 AU) cover art on tumblr

All for a Taste of the Honey (FBI agent AU feat. stripper!Henry)

May Your New Years Dreams Come True (office NYE party AU)

The Spirit of Giving (neighbors holiday party AU)

Class(room) Warfare (professors AU)

Sun in the Sky (You Know How I Feel) (post bonus-chapter canon)

(Forever) In My Way (5+1 of Henry getting in Alex’s way, AU)

Tiny Little Movies (drabble collection)

TMFU, Napoleon/Illya

Canon-Setting

All Comes Crashing (last night to live, confessions)

Love is a Deserter (canon-set exes getting back together)

A Home for the Holidays (decorating a Christmas tree)

The Life You Had in Mind (Glass Onion crossover)

Eyes on the Horizon (early relationship, sequel to “I Trust No One”)

A Kiss Away From Being Dangerous (4+1, warnings about being dangerous)

Loving You is Cherry Pie (5+1 Napoleon wearing aprons)

That's What Other People Do (outside observer, together but they just don’t realize it yet)

Double Dutch with a Hand Grenade (Illya wears short shorts, Napoleon loses his mind) illustration on tumblr

Cold Hands, Warm Heart (Illya comforts Napoleon)

I Trust No One (And Especially You) (Istanbul mission, the bath house)

Half Asleep (All Your Dreams Come Alive) (clothes/bed sharing + comfort after a nightmare)

Hard to be Soft, Tough to be Tender (Illya takes a bullet for Napoleon)

Another Sunny Day (ficlet; the boys have a picnic)

Good To Me (Illya does nice things for Napoleon, misunderstandings ensue)

Follow You Into The Dark (whumptober, presumed dead)

Where Doesn't It Hurt? (tropetember H/C, cleaning wounds)

All Your Little Words (5+1 Napoleon telling Illya “I love you”)

The Lost Art of Keeping A Secret (undercover as a couple)

Another First Kiss (6+1 stolen kisses)

Enough of a Natural Disaster for Me (apologies + kissing in the rain)

Impostors (sleeping with lookalikes, series)

What You Meant (5+1 Illya telling Napoleon he’s a terrible spy)

The Definition of Madness (time loop mission fic for whumptober)

And I Was The Boy Who Was Lucky (KY derby mission fic) cover art on tumblr

Light Will Keep Your Heart Beating in the Future (nonlinear sleep deprivation)

Love is a Chemical (Illya gets dosed with a love potion)

AUs

How’s About Cookin’ Something Up With Me? (teacher AU, baking)

Another Christmas Song (This Time I’ll Sing Along) (neighbors AU)

Consider the Price to an Elf (santaland AU)

A Hard Habit To Break (canon-verse AU, secret relationship)

White Knuckles (Olympic figure skating AU) cover art on tumblr

The Makings of a Perfect Christmastime (Christmas in Connecticut AU) cover art on tumblr

Love is a Losing Game (60s chess AU; series) cover art on tumblr

The Best Thing About NYC is You and Me (modern roommates art student/fashion designer AU; series) part 1 cover art on tumblr, part 2 cover art on tumblr

Love Is A Great Teacher (professors AU; series) cover art on tumblr

Loki Series, Loki/Mobius

Got My Love to Keep Me Warm (stranded at a Christkindlmarkt)

It's Been a Bad Day Lately (post s01 time loop)

The Truth is Just a Rule That You Can Bend (canon-divergent AU, secret relationship, fallout of Roxxcart divorce)

The Hardest Cut (bodyguard AU)

My Name Stitched On Your Lips (exes getting back together AU)

You, or Your Memory (troptember amnesia, fix-it)

Once in a Lifetime (Bookshop/GO AU) cover art on tumblr

What Makes A Good Man (Art Thief/CIA Agent AU; series) part 1 cover art on tumblr, part 3 cover art on tumblr

Mandalorian, Cara/Din

You Left Me Under Your Spell (15 independent one shots or short multichaps)