harsh desert

I’m just saying

so here’s our favorite adoptive space dad Bail Organa in Revenge of the Sith:

and here he is in Rogue One:

meanwhile, here’s Obi-Wan in Revenge of the Sith:

and here he is after the exact same amount of time: 

I’d like some of whatever Bail is having on Alderaan and exactly zero of what Obi-Wan is having on Tatooine 

okay but i know a lot of people are on the knight jeremy train, but hear me out for a second

king jeremy

one of the youngest kings out of the current kings to rule. he may not know a whole lot, but he tries his best to learn all he can so he can run a successful kingdom. who always puts his people first and is one of the kindest rulers. who creates beautiful buildings and structures either for people to live in or to decorate the kingdom. who is fair and kind and courageous. a man who is a nightmare on the battlefield and can destroy armies with little effort. a man who charges into battle with hell’s fire in his veins. who, after every battle, weeps for the lost lives and goes to the homes of the knights who gave their lives to say his condolences to the families, should their families be alive. a king who gives it his all to protect everyone, even if they have committed crimes.

literally just give me king jeremy who tries his best and is always optimistic and trying to make his kingdom a welcome place for all to come to.

Twin Suns trailer like...

A Tatooine moisture farmer trying to find his lost bantha comes across Maul screaming “KENOOOOBIIIII!” in the middle of the desert

“Fucking Off-worlders…….”


Great Horned Owl (Bubo virginianus) is one of the most common owls in the Americas. They are highly adaptable hunters that are able to thrive in environments ranging from arctic tundra to harsh desert and are only absent in the Amazon rain-forest and southern part of South America. Great Horned Owls are one of the few predators that regularly feed on skunks and were described by early naturalists as “Tigers of the Sky”.

“Rey is a Jakku scavenger, a survivor toughened by life on a harsh desert planet. When the fugitive droid BB-8 appeals to her for help, Rey finds herself drawn into a galaxy-spanning conflict. Despite dismissing herself as “no one,” she learns that her life is being shaped by the mysterious power of the Force.”


The Desert Sun was Never Cold

There are many stories told of princesses, each described as the most elegant, the most beautiful princess who had ever lived. None of these stories are true, for the most beautiful princess who ever lived is, without a doubt, the desert Princess Sun.

From the moment Sun was born she has been graced with the gift of beauty, her skin is black and pure, her dark hair thick and coiled, eyes so brown you would believe they were born of the earth, and kissed by the sun with flecks of gold.

As Princess Sun grows, so too does her beauty and grace, sun gifted vitiligo on her skin growing and strengthening as she ages. Strangers travel the harsh desert of her homeland just to gaze upon her, and bring gifts to earn her favour. All those who come wish to be the one to receive a royal kiss from the Princess’ own perfect lips.

Sun is kind and gracious, she will offer food, drink and shelter to those who travel to greet her, but never will she offer a kiss. Some will plead and beg, others bargain and bribe, but not a single soul is able to pry the much yearned kiss from the lips of the world’s most beautiful princess.

“It is a silly tradition,” Sun will tell her servants, “A kiss will not heal them of their weariness, a kiss will not fill their bellies or dry their parched mouths. I offer them something they should value far more for their efforts and still they remain stubborn for the touch of my flesh upon theirs. I refuse to take part in such a useless exchange.”

A palace guard risks his life for hers and is refused a kiss, but offered medicine and a life of ease in the palace. A magician saves her people from a frightful Monster of the Sand, she too is refused a kiss, and instead given gold and jewels and rare herbs for her potions. Princess Sun gives only what is deserved and what is needed, she gives generously, her people love her, her people respect her, and yet-

“The Sun is cold,” her people say. “I hear she has never loved, she has never embraced another, never even touched another. She is generous in spirit but she is cold of heart.”

They pity their princess, incapable of love, cursed to be forever alone without a soulmate to complete her. They mean well, but Sun loathes the whispers. She is not cursed, she is not incomplete, but she is lonely.

She is loved by all and befriended by none, those she meet want her kisses, they want her devotion, they want her to bear their children, they do not want her unless they can have her lips or her hand or her womb, all things Sun is unwilling to give.

“I do not understand,” she says to her servants, “I give them all that they need and they ask only for parts of my body. How can my body give them the pleasure of a soft bed, or a fine wine? What pleasures can my body give them that riches and jewels cannot buy? I do not understand.”

Her servants say nothing, they understand the pleasures of the body that Sun has never craved, but these are not things to be spoken of to a Princess.

Things change with the presence of a new visitor to the palace. His pale skin is wrinkled and sallow, face gaunt, eyes sunken and back bent, he appears simultaneously bloated and withered. The servants fetch Princess Sun immediately and she hastens to greet the ill foreigner.

“I have not long in this world to live,” he rasps. “Please, all I ask of you Princess is a kiss, a kiss from your own beautiful lips to ease my pain.”

“Nonsense,” says Sun. “You are not in need of a kiss, you are in need of medicine and herbs and rest. My servants will take you to a room of your own, you will have your own personal healer and food and drink delivered to your bed.”

The old man clutches his chest in pain, “But my lady! I have come all this way at the end of my life just to gaze upon you, and you will not even ferry me to the afterlife with the touch of your soft lips upon my cheek?”

Sun feels pity for the man, in his state she knows he may not last the night, but she cannot accept his request, he is ill and perhaps diseased, were she to kiss him she may become sick herself and she would not risk her own health for the sake of a simple useless gesture.

“I am sorry I cannot grant your request, but I can give you comfort, my most beautiful guest room and the finest foods you can eat. If my healers fail you and you pass into the afterlife this night, you will pass on in luxury.”

In the great arched entrance of the royal palace the hideous old beggar transforms. In his place there is a stunningly beautiful young man encased within a whirlwind of pure light, his hair is like spun gold and the blue of the sky dances in his eyes.

He points a slim, delicate finger encrusted in shimmering jewels at the stunned Princess.

“You believe your wealth to be of more worth to an old dying man than a simple gesture of love and warmth. The Sun of this kingdom truly is cold. You do not deserve the beauty you flaunt in the faces of all those who adore you, those you bring the hope of love and then snatch away in exchange for mere trinkets! You are a heartless beast!”

As the servants cower before this shining Sorcerer in his otherworldly beauty, Sun stands firm. A scowl on her lips and the flare of her namesake in her eyes, she is no helpless waif and she will not be intimidated.

“I offered you comfort and medicine!” Sun’s voice echoes through the halls of the palace. “I offered an old beggar the luxury of passing on in peace with the chance to live another day, a chance to keep his flame alight! Most paupers could only dream of such a way to pass! How dare you liken this gift to a mere ‘trinket’! Were I a princess of any other kingdom I would have granted you your precious kiss and left you on the street to DIE! And yet you call ME heartless?!”

The Sorcerer’s soft, pink lips pull up in a sneer. “I see you will not easily learn your lesson Cold Sun. It will take more than my words to prove to you the meaning of a tender loving touch to one in need.”

“Don’t preach false lessons to me Sorcerer,” Sun spits. “You come into my home a liar, here to steal my intimacy through trickery and now that you’ve failed you claim a higher morality to save your ego. I see right through you Sorcerer, you are no more than a selfish, deceitful, entitled BRAT.”

The Sorcerer’s face hardens in fury, his magic lashing out and twisting around Sun, grabbing at her with golden hands of light, fingers clawing and grasping until not even a strand of the Princess’ dark hair is visible under the blinding light of the strange magic.


As the Sorcerer’s magic peels away, the palace guards and servants look on in horror as a creature unlike anything they have ever seen is revealed in the place of their beloved princess.

Knotted locks of dull, tangled hair covers her large, hulking body, standing on all fours her sharp claws dig into the marble floor as she shakes off the tattered remains of her fine clothing. A ragged tail cuts sharply through the air as Sun rears her head, flicking a matted black mane off of her beastly snout and ghastly twisted horns.

All that remains of the beautiful Princess are the sun kissed markings upon her deformed face, and the bright flecks of gold within the black beads of her monstrous eyes.

The twisted beastly lioness turns to face her servants as they run in terror, pointed ears twitching at the sound of the Sorcerer’s manic laughter. Before she can leap upon him he disappears, leaving in his wake an enormous pulsing heart of molten flame. It hovers in the centre of the palace hall, shifting shape and shooting off tendrils of fire with every beat.

A mocking voice echoes through the palace doors, “If you fail to find someone who will look upon your monstrous form and willingly place a kiss to your beastly snout before the heart grows cold, then, and only then, will my spell be broken. It is your turn to yearn for a tender touch that will never come.”

Sun roars. She roars in anger, she roars in despair, she roars in outrage at this unfair curse undeservingly placed upon her. She has no lesson to learn, she has done nothing but show kindness and generosity to all who graced her halls, and still it is not enough, it has NEVER been enough.

She refuses to be punished for the greed of the Sorcerer, she refuses to bow to his whim and search for one who will kiss her, she has never wanted such things and this new beastly form will not change that for her now.

If she is to be this way forever, so be it.

Her servants quickly abandon the palace, guards blockade the front gates to keep the monster inside. Sun knows that she could easily jump the outer walls but she thinks better of it, her people are terrified of her, her presence would insight only violence and panic among them. She stays inside the palace, wondering what to do next, she no longer has a village to run, no diplomats to meet, no treasury to organise, no future to plan for.

Sun cannot remember a time where she had so little to do, so she sleeps.

Her claws tear up the fine silken sheets and her heavy mass collapses the bed frame, but she hardly notices once she lays her great maned head down to slumber. Sun does not dream, the fate of her village and her people does not come to her mind, all of her stress and worries simply melt away, but she cannot sleep forever.

When she wakes and finds herself unable to grasp the calming nothingness of her deep slumber once again, she concedes to the waking world. Lifting herself upon her large legs she walks the palace grounds. She has not eaten yet she feels no hunger or thirst, and so cannot use such needs to distract her, boredom settles upon her quickly and Sun begins her search for entertainment. She avoids the palace entrance, and the large pulsing heart of fire within.

Word spreads through the village fast, “The Princess has become a beast!” they say, “Cursed by a Sorcerer, only a kiss will free her!”

The palace guards stay by the gates for days, they stay as the people flee to neighbouring villages, wishing to keep their children safe from the monster behind the palace walls. The beast makes no move to escape, but every so often the guards will hear the heavy footfalls of the creature shuffling through the gardens and they remain in place. Their princess would have wanted it.

As days pass the village degrades, most left the day the curse was laid, others followed slowly as resources dwindled and looted homes become empty of valuables. The guards are the last to leave, ensuring that no one has been left behind.

Sun wakes one morning to silence from outside the walls. In her boredom she had circled the grounds, listening to the guards chatting outside. She recognised most of them by voice, she had considered many of them friends after all, but her friendship had always been one-sided. She could speak freely to them, but they could never speak freely to her, it had always been that way. Sun will miss listening to them talk casually amongst themselves.

Years pass and the princess swiftly runs out of ways to keep herself occupied and the palace begins to fall apart with neglect, her library is useless to her when her claws tear apart any book she sets her paws on, the gardens become more and more overrun with weeds every day, the once beautiful golden sheen of the palace walls become dulled without regular cleaning. Floors begin to crack under Sun’s immense weight, many narrow doorways are destroyed when she tries to fit through them. Parts of the palace roof and walls degrade quickly from her daily climbs up to watch the sun rise and set over the dunes.

Though she does not require food Sun still eats from the overgrown trees and vines from her once impeccable garden and leaps over the walls to reach the large oasis that her servants would fetch water from to deliver to the castle so long ago. She had never visited the large lake herself before she was cursed, but she now does so regularly, as splashing through the water feels wonderful on her thick, dark fur.

With every year that passes, Sun forgets more and more of her human life as she falls into the nature of a beast, hunting rodents and small critters through the empty streets of the village, sharpening her claws on the remains of sandstone walls. Chasing and pouncing upon the surviving abandoned livestock for sport, eating only out of boredom than any real need for food, more interested in chewing on the bones left behind.

There is hardly a shred of Princess left in the beast that roams the neglected desert kingdom, and the Cold Sun lords over the grounds with eyes of pure gold and a heart that no longer feels.

Until the day comes when a stranger enters her palace.

She is small and weak, young and fragile. Damp from a dip in the oasis but the smell of unwashed clothes and many days of travel still cling to her skin. Sun stalks the malnourished waif through the ruined village, watching as she raids old stalls and homes in search of something. Food? Treasures? The girl’s search leads her to the palace, she climbs over loose stones through a break in the dilapidated wall and enters the great doors.

Sun, focused on the hunt, follows the girl, she forgets that she has not been inside the entrance hall in many many years, she forgets why she has been avoiding this place for so long, she forgets until she looks upon the great heart slowly pulsing in the centre of the room. Every beat sends a weak tongue of flame flickering through the cracks of the icy skin that has grown around it. Heat shimmers below the cold armour, splashing the walls with eerily beautiful patterns of light.

Sun remembers.

The Sorcerer, the curse, her Palace, her people. Sun is a princess, Sun is a leader, Sun is a woman who cares deeply and gives generously. Sun is not a beast, Sun is not cold like the heart before her. Sun is not cold. Sun is NOT cold.

“Sun is not cold.” her great, gravelly voice echoes through the chamber.

The ragged girl, entranced by the heart before her, quickly turns to find she is not alone. Sun can see the fear on her face, she can smell it in the air, it sickens her.

“Do not be afraid child.” Sun sits on her haunches, tail sweeping lazy across the grand marble floor. “I mean you no harm.”

“You are the Great Beast,” the girl says. “I believed you to be a story, a legend to frighten away thieves.”

“Are you a thief?” asks Sun.

“No! I am not here to steal treasures! I simply seek shelter from the harsh desert winds.”

The girl’s skin is rough, her eyes and lips are red, chapped and raw, but there is also hunger in her narrow emaciated face. Sun knows it was not merely the promise of shelter that brought her here.

“Did not the temptation of my lush gardens draw you in? Did you not hope to find food behind the palace walls?”

“I had no intention of theft Great Beast! I did hope to perhaps find food in your garden, but now I know this garden has not been abandoned, and so I will not take from it. Unless you would allow me? I have little to trade but I will give you everything I have for a night’s rest and a full belly.”

Sun thinks. She thinks of the curse and the girl and a trade. A kiss on her beastly snout for a night of rest and respite. The heart is close to frozen, she has little time left, it is a fair trade is it not?

Sun shakes her wild mane in disgust. Never in her life has she asked a price for food and comfort, she has given freely to all those in need who have graced her halls, she refuses to change now. Curse be damned. The Sorcerer’s magic heart can grow as cold as the lands of the far north for all she cares, for her own heart will always be warm as the desert sands, warm as the great celestial being she was named for.

Sun does not need a kiss to prove so.

“The palace and gardens are yours to roam at your leisure, the garden’s spoils and the water of the oasis are yours to gorge yourself on as you please. I need only look upon you to see that you have lived a life of poverty and pain, so know that for as long as you remain here, you will be cared for. I will give you all that you need, child.”

The girl’s face is clear with suspicion. “Do you intend to fatten me up to eat me?” she asks.

Sun laughs, a mighty roar of a laugh that sends the short, black hairs on the young girl’s neck standing straight. Her blazing eyes soften to a comforting dark brown, only subtle flecks of their previous gold shining through.

“Child, of food I have plenty. Of company, I have only you.”

The girl, though still weary of the beast, does not turn up her nose at the generous offer. She feasts upon the sweet fruits of the garden, returns to fill her water-skin at the oasis when it runs dry, and the Great Beast simply sits and watches, leaving her side only once to return with the leg of a large, hoofed animal for her dinner. The young girl sleeps in the most comfortable, luxurious bed she has ever laid eyes on that night, pleasantly surprised to find that she has not been eaten in the morning.

The girl does not leave the next day as planned, never has she been so comfortable and well fed, never has she had such a pick of fine, though dusty, clothes to wear, never has she had someone look over her with such generosity and care.

“If the Great Beast truly wishes to fatten me up and eat me,” she thinks to herself, “perhaps I won’t mind if it means living my last days like this.”

The girl does not merely spend days living alongside the Great Beast, she stays a much longer time. Every day she wakes fearing her generous host less and less, she passes time telling stories of her travels, the places she’s seen and the many languages she speaks. For a girl so young she has been through so much, and she is grateful to have a place to rest and feel safe.

“My name is Acacia.” the girl says one night as she lays against her friend’s great black hide, decorating her mane with tidy, twists and braids.

“You may call me Sun.” the beast says in return.

During daily visits to the lake they both romp and play in the water, splashing and roughhousing before drying off in the desert heat. Acacia helps Sun brush the clinging sand from her fur, and in return Sun will lick the sand from Acacia’s own short locks of hair.

Acacia spend the years teaching Sun the many songs and rhymes she has learned in all her languages, Sun teaches Acacia how to hunt and track and kill large prey. The two run together through the dunes, chasing the wind and challenging the sandstorms, for they know that no force on this earth can take them down when they ride together.

One day Acacia ask, “How is it that you became a beast? Stories tell of a curse, that you were changed for being cold of heart, but I can hardly believe such a lie about one so warm and loving.”

“Those who hold magic are not always deserving of their power,” says Sun. “The curse is what froze my heart dear Acacia. It is you who reminded me of it’s warmth again.”

“Is it true you can be saved with a kiss?” Acacia asks. “You have done so much for me, if a kiss is what is required to end your curse I will gladly give it.”

“Thank you my child,” says Sun as she bows her great head. “But I have no reason to return to my mortal form. My spirit has grown too large for the skin I once wore, and to accept a curse as a gift is a greater insult to a Sorcerer than playing his game and breaking it.”

Sun laughs to herself and nuzzles the young girl’s hair with her great snout, Acacia responds with a scratch behind her friend’s large ear, she does not ask about the curse again. The flames within the magical heart flutter with one last beat before finally succumbing to the icy cold of the Sorcerer’s spell.

Sun, enveloped by the warmth of Acacia’s love and friendship, does not even notice.

In time Sun knows her friend will grow old and pass away, but they have many many years to spend together before such a tragedy befalls her, and in that time Sun hopes that others will come to the old palace, others who may be seeking food and shelter. They will find all that they need here in this forgotten desert village, as they always have and always will, because despite what all the stories say;

The desert Sun was never Cold.

oh my god this is so long I’m so sorry but the tumblr app dOESN’T LET YOU USE READ MORES AND I WROTE IT ON MY IPAD AAAA

*cough* so here’s my spin on aromantic, asexual Beauty and the Beast, take care to notice my own aro ace ass projected literally everywhere and also my love for giant monsters mothering tiny humans, also changed the working title from The Cold Sun because The Desert Sun was Never Cold resonated stronger with me 😎👌✨

Sun’s looks are loosely based on Canadian model Winnie Harlow, (vitiligo yo it’s gorgeous) the setting is loosely based in North Africa, you can basically assume everyone but nobody’s-favourite-blue-eyed-blond-haired-asshole-Sorcerer are POC

Sun’s beast form is like a huge mix between a lion and a Tibetan Mastiff and I want to cuddle her SO MUCH and Acacia you will be braiding that mane all fucking day if you aren’t careful there is a lot of hair to work with and Sun will just sit there and let you do it

man but yeah, I wanted this story to highlight the importance of not assuming asexual people are unfeeling robots, and how we need love and attention just as much as any other person, we just don’t need the sexual and/or romantic kind of love and attention, and that doesn’t make us cold or selfish and ngl we are all secretly giant lions on the inside don’t tell anyone

  • ganon in wind waker: sad old man that coveted the luxuries of the world outside of the harsh desert he called home, driven to evil by his desire to take what he could not have
  • ganon in breath of the wild: slime man

Rey is a Jakku scavenger, a survivor toughened by life on a harsh desert planet. When 

the fugitive droid BB-8 appeals to her for help, Rey finds herself drawn into a galaxy-

spanning conflict. Despite dismissing herself as “no one,” she learns that her life is 

being shaped by the mysterious power of the Force.

at long last… cecil return to the swamp. have spent many day lying deep in the mud, needing recover from the harsh desert and too much time spent as a human

but now return, many questions to answer now, many friends to meet. 

is good to be back

magewardensurana  asked:

69 for Royai please?

Sorry this took forever to write. D= The past few months have just been stressful, as you probably already know. You also probably forgot you even sent this one. lol


Ishval. The harsh, endless desert stretched on for miles. The last time Mustang and Hawkeye had been to that dry, arid landscape, they had both committed atrocities neither felt they could ever atone for.

This time, they were there to rebuild what they helped destroy all those years ago.

Mustang’s team, minus Falman who opted to remain in the North, had arrived in the morning and busily went about their first day getting settled, laying out plans, and generally getting a feel for the area they’d be living in for the next several years. A small, five room, makeshift barracks had been built for them until something more substantial and lasting could be erected, and this was where the members of Mustang’s team resigned for the evening to try to get a good night’s sleep before the real work began the next day.

Mustang went to each of his officer’s rooms to make sure they were settled, outlining what the plans were for the morning with all of them, before finally arriving at Hawkeye’s room. He rapped on the door twice and the door opened moments later. Hayate bounded out into the hall, excited to see Roy and Riza hushed him when he barked.

“Good evening, Captain,” Roy said, patting Hayate on the head and flashing Riza a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes either as she nodded at him.

“Good evening, sir.”

“I’ve just been checking in on everyone to make sure they’re all settled in… Are you doing all right?” His tone softened and he gazed at her with a knowing look.

Riza shrugged.

“Yes sir, as well as I can be here. Might be better once we get proper housing… Would you like to come in and see for yourself?”

Roy nodded, thankful she was inviting him in. He didn’t want to return to his room quite yet.

He stepped over the threshold and into her tiny room, avoiding Hayate as he did. The room looked much like his own. Not enough room for more than a bed, small dining table, and a couple of armchairs. It wasn’t the most ideal living conditions, but it was good enough until the renovations got underway. If you asked Roy and Riza, it was too good for people like the two of them.

The two talked over tea in hushed tones about anything other than work or where they were. The weather, Edward getting married, Hayate’s escapades in trying to avoid bath time. Anything that didn’t involve their past or the fact that they were back in Ishval.

Without either of them realizing it, over an hour had passed. Roy sighed at his pocket watch and stuffed it back into his pocket as if it had offended him.

“I suppose I should get to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow.” Roy stood, thanking Riza for the tea, and made to leave. “Good night, Captain. I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”

Riza nodded and followed him to the door without a word until he reached for the door handle.

“Please, don’t leave.”

The words that left Riza’s mouth were so quiet that Roy thought perhaps he had been hearing things, but when he turned to look at Riza, her eyes were full of worry and seemed to be pleading with him to stay despite her normal, professional poker face in place. He frowned and glanced back at the door, worried the rest of the men would hear them or notice that he hadn’t walked back to his room yet. The floor boards were creaky and anyone walking in the halls would definitely be heard by everyone in the small building.

“I’m sorry,” Riza said quickly when she noticed Roy’s hesitance. “Forget it… It’s just, after all these years, to be back here, I…”

“Let me get some things from my room,” Roy muttered and Riza’s eyes filled with relief, a feeling he certainly reciprocated. He didn’t think he could handle being alone that night either and had been hoping she’d ask him to stay. Maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing to do on their first night at their new post, but if being together would help both of them relax and possibly get some sleep, he was more than happy to oblige to her wishes.

Roy hurried out into the hall, making sure the floor creaked so if any of the team were still awake they would hear him returning to his room. After grabbing pajamas, a pillow, and a toothbrush, he crept as silently as possible back to Riza’s room. When he returned, Hayate was already curled up on the rug next to the bed and Riza was changed into shorts and one of his old white button-up shirts, something she always wore when she was upset and needed something comforting.

Normally, seeing her in his shirt would have made his heart flutter and he would have smiled, but that night was bringing back too many memories for both of them and he barely even registered what she was wearing. The only thing he noticed was the far-off look in her eye that must have matched his own.

Riza crawled into bed as Roy stripped and changed. She lay on her side, back facing him as he joined her, mimicking her position.

It was a stupid thing, Roy mused, trying to keep up formalities even in this kind of situation. They were far away from prying eyes and, being put in charge of Ishval by the Fuhrer himself, there were no officers there with higher ranks than them. It was probably because they were so used to hiding their feelings that displaying them so openly with the members of their team in such close proximity felt almost strange.

“Thank you for staying,” Riza said after a while. Her voice breaking the silence was almost jarring.

“Of course,” Roy replied, still mulling over the idea of just rolling over and holding her close. Sure they were together, but they weren’t touching, and simple closeness was turning out to not be enough for him.

Apparently, it wasn’t enough for her either as, a few minutes later, he felt Riza shift and press herself close to his back, her hands clutching lightly at the fabric of his shirt. Taking that as a sign that she was comfortable enough, he flipped over and pulled her closer, burying his nose in her hair and breathing in the soothing scent of her lilac shampoo.

“This is going to be difficult for the next few years,” Roy murmured into her hair.

“We’ll get by,” Riza replied, voice muffled by his shirt as she pressed her face close to his chest. “We always do.”

That night, they both dreamed of the war for the first time in a while, but when one woke, the other was there to comfort them with whispers and soft caresses and light kisses and they were sure they got much more sleep than they would ever have if they had been alone.

  • Rey Skywalker theorists: Rey Kenobi is stupid, what, did the old hermit have a one night stand with some desert lady? Haha idiots
  • me: ...yet you're perfectly ok with Luke Skywalker, purest cinammon roll in the galaxy, leaving his child all alone on a harsh desert planet in the hands of an abusive junk dealer where she will most likely die?

on our lil love hotel journey together we have seen a donkey kong motel, a bed overseen by pooh on a swing, a literal toilet in the middle of the room, lightning mcqueen crashing thru the side of a lovers elope, secret blacklight donald duck and mickeys in the walls. but nothing..nothing could prepare me for the discovery i made last night. like a voyager lost in the harsh unforgiving desert i traveled meaninglessly thru the sandy abyss. and my eyes set forth on the mysterious, yet enchanting, mirage paradise before me

………hotel peepee

Neverender AU

(fair warning this is a really long post)

AU where Manolo gets fed up with bullfighter training and runs away from San Angel to escape the Sanchez legacy with nothing but a small pack, his swords, and his guitar on his back.

He spends days searching the harsh desert for Joaquin, who had by now been out on his own for at least a year. Manolo thinks perhaps he can be a soldier. It isn’t being a musician, but that’s not a choice he can make in San Angel, not as long as his father is around trying to force him to be the kind of man who could slaughter innocent animals. And if he can just track down his friend, well.. perhaps being a soldier would be bearable as long as he has Joaquin. He might even be able to help protect people, too. And he would still have his guitar.

But unfortunately he gets lost trying to find Joaquin and decides to stop in a small town one night, spending what little money he has to stay at an inn, and by some amazing luck he happens to overhear some guy gossiping about a soldier from San Angel who helped save his daughter from some bandits awhile back. Manolo excitedly interrupts the man and describes Joaquin to him, and the man confirms that it was indeed his childhood friend. Manolo sits down and tells him that he’s trying to find this soldier and if they could help him out. The man asks him who he is and how he knows Joaquin, and with a wry smile he answers,

“He’s my brother. My name is Manolo Rivera.”

The man beams at him and excitedly offers him his family’s horse to travel with, and while Manolo is hesitant to accept such generosity, the man is insistent on helping out the brother of the man who saved his daughter’s life.

So he presents Manolo with a beautiful Criollo mare with a soft white blaze on her forehead and sends him off in the direction Joaquin left. Manolo rides off, astounded that people could be so grateful to Joaquin that they’d be willing to give him a horse for free just for associating with him.

Perhaps being a hero wouldn’t be so bad. It certainly was treating him better than being a Sanchez.

And so Manny travels from town to town all over Mexico with his horse(whom he had named Estrella for the star on her head), going by word of mouth trying to find Joaquin and visiting all the towns the soldier had been to. And in every town he was surprised at the incredible generosity he was shown for his association with the soldier. Some people welcomed him into their homes, some let him eat for free, some gave him things. One family tried to give him a hawk to hunt and send messages with, but Manolo and the ferocious bird couldn’t seem to get along, so they gave him a small white and blue parakeet they had been keeping as a pet, which Manolo adored more than anything because it loved to sing, and named it Juanito. In return for all these gifts Manolo would repay their kindnesses with beautiful music from his guitar.

So in every town Manolo visits, he gets to hear firsthand all the stories of Joaquin’s exploits. A few are truly spectacular tales of heroism, but a lot of them are mostly small acts here and there, like saving a puppy with a thorn in its paw or delivering babies.

Unfortunately there are a fair few stories that, as it turns out, aren’t quite as heroic as Joaquin used to tell him the couple of times he had come home to San Angel. The soldier had clearly exaggerated or in some cases outright lied about the way some events had unfolded, clearly in an attempt to hide his shame the few times he had made a mistake or let somebody get hurt.

In one particular town Manolo is told a more tragic story about how Joaquin had accidentally let a young girl die because he had gotten carried away while fighting the bandit who had kidnapped her. In his carelessness he had been more focused on showing off and hadn’t realized the little girl had been wounded, and by the time he had defeated the bandit she was already cold and lifeless, and Joaquin had been stricken with guilt. The girl’s family had been outraged and ran him out of town.

Manolo had been shocked to learn of these events, until another citizen mentioned in passing that it was about that time Joaquin came to visit, and upon seeing the confusion on Manolo’s face, they explained that ever since Joaquin had let the little girl die, he had made sure to come back every few months to do some work for the town and spend time with the little girl’s family, trying desperately to make up for his mistake. Eventually the parents had forgiven him and he was now treated like part of the family, a fact that brought a huge smile to Manolo’s face.

And so Manny waited in the town a few days awaiting Joaquin’s return, and at last his searching came to an end when the gloriously decorated soldier rode into town, completely aghast at finding his childhood friend waiting for him.
After a long evening catching up, Manolo manages to convince Joaquin to let him tag along and train him as a solider. Joaquin of course isn’t happy that Manolo has chosen this path where he could get hurt or be killed(not that that couldn’t happen in the bullring, he muses), but some selfish part of him wants nothing more than to travel with his closest friend by his side, and surely two can protect Mexico better than one?

So they set out and travel together across Mexico, and Manolo trains hard under Joaquin’s excellent tutelage. Admittedly despite becoming a decent soldier, Manolo never becomes particularly great at fighting, but he’s quick and agile and can dodge like no one’s business, something that Joaquin is eternally grateful for since he’s not exactly invincible like he is.

Manolo never does return to bullfighting, though he and Joaquin visit San Angel every once in awhile. At first Manolo is hesitant to face his father, knowing full well he had disgraced and discarded the Sanchez name in favor of his mother’s, but the Carlos he faces is a tired, broken man with defeat in his eyes. It takes all Manolo’s strength not to waver, until finally Carlos pulls his son into a firm embrace, catching the soldier completely by surprise. The Sanchez man pulls away and gazes at his only son with relief plain in his eyes, clearly just happy to see him alive and well. They never quite make up, but Carlos treats his son as his equal from then on, not having any choice but to respect Manolo’s decision if he wanted to continue being a part of his son’s life.

Manolo and Joaquin travel together for several years, and the legend of the mighty hero of Mexico extends to be the legend of two brothers fighting side by side for the good of all, the invincible Joaquin Mondragon and the swift Manolo Rivera.


The greenbottle blue tarantula (Chromatopelma cyaneopubescens), a native of theParaguaná peninsula, Venezuela, has some of the most dramatic coloring of any spiderspecies. Adult greenbottles have metallic blue legs, a blue-green carapace and a vibrant orange abdomen.

These tarantulas live in webbed burrows under bushes and tree roots in desert areas of northern Venezuela, in Paraguana. The entrance is often extended with webbing, sometimes resembling a tunnel. These webs may protect the entrance from the harsh desert climate, also acting as a trap for insects. They can also be found near the city of Punto Fijo in towns and rural places.

I headcanon that on Tatooine small families are the norm. With food and water and well, anything that isn’t sand being scarce having to provide for more than three or four people at a time would be a nightmare. So the women of the desert have passed down a wealth of contraceptive recipes and techniques from generation to generation. 

When Beru and Owen Lars accepted the son of a man they’d met once, they knew that this was it. The only child they would ever raise. They could tell themselves sweet lies about how maybe the harvests would be plentiful for the next few years and they could get by, but they are children of the desert. They cannot refuse reality in a place as harsh as the desert. It would only serve to drive them mad or make them suffer. They could have said no. They didn’t really know his father and they know the danger will be great. They could have said no. They want their own baby and cannot have two. They could have said no. But how could they refuse the grandson of the woman they loved so much? They could have said no. But there he is, small and beautiful and helpless and in need of a loving home. So they accept him knowing that he is the only son they shall ever have. They love him as the only son they will ever have. And he loves them dearly. 

Nothing new under the Sun...?


Okay so like… we know that Sun Wukong’s semblance is called “Via Sun” which at first, sounds like he obviously named it after himself or something… but like it might actually be more like how he channels solar energy or the sun’s light, and he uses himself as the medium to do so.

@phoenixfarce is the one that initially pointed out that Sun’s hair got brighter with the presence of an artificial sun when the harsh desert biome appeared for the tournament. Lighting? Maybe. Something more? perhaps…

With this theory, came the sudden idea that Sun specifically uses stored solar energy to create his clones.

But… what if Sun’s semblance is way more versatile than that?

It’s probably not a coincidence how in “World of Remnant: Aura,” Sun was one of the characters displayed as a very keen user of their aura. (alongside Ruby Rose and Lie Ren)

So maybe Sun’s semblance could allow him to do something like… oh I don’t know… Focus on different waves of sun light to notice disguises in broad daylight…?

Which is a very real and possible thing. Being able to see different parts of the light spectrum, like infrared or ultraviolet light can allow living things to perceive things that the human eye can’t. And Sun is no human…

Something to think about…


A commission done for @pocketseizure​ on tumblr for their incredible fanfic The Legend of the Princess on AO3! I highly recommend any ganzel fans to check it out.  Kathryn was an absolute joy to work with and I just adore them so please so their hard work some love too! 

A grave threat has beset the kingdom of Hyrule, and only Princess Zelda can prevent a terrible calamity from coming to pass. Although all odds are against her, the princess manages to awaken her latent ability to travel through time when she delves into the divine mysteries that are her heritage. As Zelda sees more of the past, she begins to learn about the sinister man who has been blown by the harsh winds of the desert into her castle. If she is wise enough to piece together the puzzles left behind in bygone ages, Zelda may be able to change both of their destinies.”

Commissions are open for a short bit if anyone is interested, though I’ll probably make a more official post next week so be on the look out! 

Survival is hard for children and the elderly, out in the zones.

If a Killjoy does want to start a family, they will often start them young, and have many children, as the death rate among children is high.

With the harsh conditions of the desert, the elderly also struggle to survive. The extreme temperatures, radiation, and lack of resources makes life tough. 
There is a great respect for older Killjoys, in awe of the hardships they’ve survived and the wisdom they have.