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#distance between planets and stars
9th-empress-suravi · 11 months
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The Red Planet MARS 🔴|| Reddish Colour Surface|| The Brightest Object in Earth's Sky
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About the Video:
Mars is the fourth planet and the furthest terrestrial planet from the Sun. The reddish color of its surface is due to finely grained iron(III) oxide dust in the soil, giving it the nickname "the Red Planet". Mars's radius is second smallest among the planets in the Solar System at 3,389.5 km (2,106 mi). The Martian dichotomy is visible on the surface: on average, the terrain on Mars's northern hemisphere is flatter and lower than its southern hemisphere. Mars has a thin atmosphere made primarily of carbon dioxide and two irregularly shaped natural satellites: Phobos and Deimos.
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tlaquetzqui · 1 month
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In my SF I mention that one of the characters’ favorite songs is a C-pop song about being further from their lover than Altair is from Vega. Because Altair and Vega are only 14.65 light years apart, and e.g. if you’re on ξ Boötis, and your love is on Earth, you’re 22.03 light years from them.
Y’all need to understand, Wikipedia is your friend, for worldbuilding. Like, your best friend, take a bullet for you, best man at your wedding friend.
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bobcat-pie · 1 year
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Spent almost an hour looking through twisted wonderland wiki galleries for globes because I'm not entirely sure that the world isn't flat. Didn't find any globes, but here's some orbs I found that exist to infuriate me. Particularly, the bottom two that might be glass but also might be globes but I can't tell because the world map has the new worst cartographic projection: Tilted Cropped Mercator
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look at that compass rose. Why is it tilted. C'mon, I get that not all cultures necessarily have north pointing "up" on their oldass maps, but WHY is it TILTED.
I can half-understand the reason it's cropped, because Sage Island is so tiny you can see most of it if you stand somewhere high, so it'd get lost in a complete world map.
...And if they made Sage Island big enough to see on the world map, but had the map represent the entire world instead of being cropped, then players would assume that the world was small and complain that Yuu should be allowed to jump 9 feet in the air like John Carter on Mars.
(and I know that because I looked at the map explicitly to check if Yuu should be allowed to jump 9 feet in the air like John Carter on Mars. Then I tumbled down this whole rabbithole)
Northern parts of the coral sea get covered in ice during the winter, which could prove that Twisted Wonderland is round because this proves the existence of poles. It also proves that (at least the majority) of the map is in the northern hemisphere!
BUT, if that's the case, then Briar Valley would be notably cold, but instead it's known for its thick forests. So I believe that the northern part of the coral sea freezing over in the winter might be more of a result of magical phenomena (ancient curse) rather than the north pole pointing away from the sun...
Unless the ruler of Briar Valley is in charge of controlling its weather to keep it from being notably cold. Then yeah, the planet's round.
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Kirk and spock are really the ideal will they won't they couple because they both have reasons for why they wouldn't confess (spock is embarrassed by his own feelings and kirk WOULD be the guy who goes 'it's not anyone's business but my own how I feel for mr spock' and also because he's captain he's not allowed) but they also have reasons for why they would be the first to confess (spock is very logical and would come forward with his feelings if he thought even for a second they were interfering with how he does his job and kirk is. Kirk.)
#random thoughts#star trek#fucking love this shakespeare episode#but anyway i think spock confesses first. for the hilarity#he confesses fully thinking he's gonna be shot down but also knowing kirk won't make it weird and they can still work together#but like just as a 'im gonna just get this off my chest' moment#kirk goes from stunned silence to angry sputtering to hysterical laughter to both at once#because kirk is emotionally constipated you fucking KNOW he is. he's so mad about it#but like his main rationale for not confessing was that he's not allowed and spock doesn't feel the same way#BUT KNOWING SPOCK FEELS THE SAME WAY??? OUGH HE'S SO MAD#not like at spock but at himself and at starfleet and at just the universe in general#like after spock confesses and kirk's in the room they were in by himself he looks outside at the great wide universe he's exploring#and he hates it so much. fuck the universe fuck starfleet fuck EVERYTHING#my interpretation of kirk is very angry so far. im still on season one#but like kirk turns him down of course and they're very chill about it until eventually they're macking on each other like teenagers#like on a mission on some planet somewhere#kirk DOES pick spock up and he DOES slam him against the wall. very brokeback mountain of him#they're disguised as cowboys or something i've decided. mccoy is very much there but like in the distance#it's strictly making out for like a WHILE. and they never mention it#kirk thinks it's like this unspoken thing between them and it's mutually understood. it's NOT.#spock just had NO REASON to bring it up so far#idk WHY he brings it up. probably just during a casual convo while playing chess and kirk immediately gets weird about it#and spock's like 'is there something wrong jim' and kirk's like 'no i just thought we weren't gonna talk about this'#and spock's like ' . . . do you want me to . . . stop?' and kirk's like 'no you can go ahead i just thought we weren't talking about it'#'did we ever agree to never talk about it?' 'well . . . maybe not VERBALLY per se but' 'ah yes one of your earth customs of tacit agreement'#spock is just very casual about the whole thing because spock is very good at compartmentalizing his emotions#does spock understand WHY kirk doesn't want to date him? no.#does spock understand WHY kirk is making out with him spending all this time with him and also HOLDING HIS HAND??? also no#at one point spock asks about different types of human relationships and kirk gets into the distinctions including greek shit#it does not clear things up like at all but spock relates to agape love
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nasa · 11 months
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Astronomers used three of NASA's Great Observatories to capture this multiwavelength image showing galaxy cluster IDCS J1426.5+3508. It includes X-rays recorded by the Chandra X-ray Observatory in blue, visible light observed by the Hubble Space Telescope in green, and infrared light from the Spitzer Space Telescope in red. This rare galaxy cluster has important implications for understanding how these megastructures formed and evolved early in the universe.
How Astronomers Time Travel
Let’s add another item to your travel bucket list: the early universe! You don’t need the type of time machine you see in sci-fi movies, and you don’t have to worry about getting trapped in the past. You don’t even need to leave the comfort of your home! All you need is a powerful space-based telescope.
But let’s start small and work our way up to the farthest reaches of space. We’ll explain how it all works along the way.
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This animation illustrates how fast light travels between Earth and the Moon. The farther light has to travel, the more noticeable its speed limit becomes.
The speed of light is superfast, but it isn’t infinite. It travels at about 186,000 miles (300 million meters) per second. That means that it takes time for the light from any object to reach our eyes. The farther it is, the more time it takes.
You can see nearby things basically in real time because the light travel time isn’t long enough to make a difference. Even if an object is 100 miles (161 kilometers) away, it takes just 0.0005 seconds for light to travel that far. But on astronomical scales, the effects become noticeable.
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This infographic shows how long it takes light to travel to different planets in our solar system.
Within our solar system, light’s speed limit means it can take a while to communicate back and forth between spacecraft and ground stations on Earth. We see the Moon, Sun, and planets as they were slightly in the past, but it's not usually far enough back to be scientifically interesting.
As we peer farther out into our galaxy, we use light-years to talk about distances. Smaller units like miles or kilometers would be too overwhelming and we’d lose a sense of their meaning. One light-year – the distance light travels in a year – is nearly 6 trillion miles (9.5 trillion kilometers). And that’s just a tiny baby step into the cosmos.
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The Sun’s closest neighboring star, Proxima Centauri, is 4.2 light-years away. That means we see it as it was about four years ago. Betelgeuse, a more distant (and more volatile) stellar neighbor, is around 700 light-years away. Because of light’s lag time, astronomers don’t know for sure whether this supergiant star is still there! It may have already blasted itself apart in a supernova explosion – but it probably has another 10,000 years or more to go.
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What looks much like craggy mountains on a moonlit evening is actually the edge of a nearby, young, star-forming region NGC 3324 in the Carina Nebula. Captured in infrared light by the Near-Infrared Camera (NIRCam) on NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope, this image reveals previously obscured areas of star birth.
The Carina Nebula clocks in at 7,500 light-years away, which means the light we receive from it today began its journey about 3,000 years before the pyramids of Giza in Egypt were built! Many new stars there have undoubtedly been born by now, but their light may not reach Earth for thousands of years.
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An artist’s concept of our Milky Way galaxy, with rough locations for the Sun and Carina nebula marked.
If we zoom way out, you can see that 7,500 light-years away is still pretty much within our neighborhood. Let’s look further back in time…
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This stunning image by the NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope features the spiral galaxy NGC 5643. Looking this good isn’t easy; 30 different exposures, for a total of nine hours of observation time, together with Hubble’s high resolution and clarity, were needed to produce an image of such exquisite detail and beauty.
Peering outside our Milky Way galaxy transports us much further into the past. The Andromeda galaxy, our nearest large galactic neighbor, is about 2.5 million light-years away. And that’s still pretty close, as far as the universe goes. The image above shows the spiral galaxy NGC 5643, which is about 60 million light-years away! That means we see it as it was about 60 million years ago.
As telescopes look deeper into the universe, they capture snapshots in time from different cosmic eras. Astronomers can stitch those snapshots together to unravel things like galaxy evolution. The closest ones are more mature; we see them nearly as they truly are in the present day because their light doesn’t have to travel as far to reach us. We can’t rewind those galaxies (or our own), but we can get clues about how they likely developed. Looking at galaxies that are farther and farther away means seeing these star cities in ever earlier stages of development.
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The farthest galaxies we can see are both old and young. They’re billions of years old now, and the light we receive from them is ancient since it took so long to traverse the cosmos. But since their light was emitted when the galaxies were young, it gives us a view of their infancy.
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This animation is an artist’s concept of the big bang, with representations of the early universe and its expansion.
Comparing how fast objects at different distances are moving away opened up the biggest mystery in modern astronomy: cosmic acceleration. The universe was already expanding as a result of the big bang, but astronomers expected it to slow down over time. Instead, it’s speeding up!
The universe’s expansion makes it tricky to talk about the distances of the farthest objects. We often use lookback time, which is the amount of time it took for an object’s light to reach us. That’s simpler than using a literal distance, because an object that was 10 billion light-years away when it emitted the light we received from it would actually be more than 16 billion light-years away right now, due to the expansion of space. We can even see objects that are presently over 30 billion light-years from Earth, even though the universe is only about 14 billion years old.
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This James Webb Space Telescope image shines with the light from galaxies that are more than 13.4 billion years old, dating back to less than 400 million years after the big bang.
Our James Webb Space Telescope has helped us time travel back more than 13.4 billion years, to when the universe was less than 400 million years old. When our Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope launches in a few years, astronomers will pair its vast view of space with Webb’s zooming capabilities to study the early universe in better ways than ever before. And don’t worry – these telescopes will make plenty of pit stops along the way at other exciting cosmic destinations across space and time.
Learn more about the exciting science Roman will investigate on X and Facebook.
Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
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mindblowingscience · 4 months
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Astronomers have discovered a new planetary oddball beyond the solar system that is as fluffy and light as cotton candy.  The extrasolar planet or "exoplanet" named WASP-193 b is around 1.5 times the width of Jupiter but has just over a tenth of the solar system gas giant's mass. This makes it the second-lightest planet in the exoplanet catalog, which contains over 5,400 entries. Only the Neptune-like world, Kepler 51 d, is lighter than WASP-193 b. Located around 1,200 light-years from Earth, WASP-193 b orbits its star at a distance of around 6.3 million miles, which is about 0.07 times the distance between Earth and the sun. That means it completes an orbit of its sun-like star, WASP-193, in just 6.2 Earth days.
Continue Reading.
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afewfantasies · 7 months
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🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️ - I - Nightmares
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MASTERLIST
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.8K
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Feyd-Rautha X Reader
ᴘʟᴏᴛ: "Feyd-Rautha he's psychotic", at least thats what people say. Only, people forgot to add that your father's decided you were to marry. It's been over a decade and Feyd's committed to have the marriage and you with him as he ascends as heir and na-Baron of Geidi Prime.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: abduction, masterbation, voyeurism
🗡️ꜰᴇʏᴅ'ꜱ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ 🗡️
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“Another one?” Your best friend and fellow Bene Gesserit sister asks as you wake in another cold sweat. Nodding you sit up in bed blinking through the darkness. Leia lights the lamp and a yellow glow shines into both of your faces. The first vision was a decade ago, you had been sleeping under the stars. Pale skin and a bald head. A large brute of a ban killed another. Then there was a boy clearly terrified but shaking with anger too. Black eyes, black teeth, pale skin, a temper. Year after year the visions became angrier, more psychopathic. Handing you materials Leia climbs into bed beside you and you begin your account of the vision.
“Will you tell the reverend mother?” She asks.
“Not yet” you confess ordering your thoughts and placing the coded message on the scroll. Leia watches in silence. This vision was in a black room probably on Geidi Prime. You were asleep on a larger black bed with four posts. You were asleep only to wake up to the black eyes looking down at you. He’d never spoken before but he’d said two words in the strangest grittiest words before. “You’re mine” unlike all the other dreams you felt him in the bed, felt the friction of him coming closer, felt his breath on your skin, the heat coming from his body.
“Are you alright?” Leia asks, handing me a glass of water.
“No” you confess as the two words haunt you. There’ve been all kinds of visions. Brutal murders, sick torture, murderous games with concubines, moments of tyrannical rage and now. Now he’d come for you. Stepping out of the bed you find solace in the coolness of the stone on your feet. Leia follows and you search your things for the herbs that dull your senses. It’s a necessity for sleep and reprieve. Since childhood you’d been careful not to share but as you’ve grown it’s only become clearer and clearer the subject of your dreams. He was tall, strong, angry, well off, psychotic and some would say handsome. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the na-Baron and your original betrothed.
“What is it?” Leia asks.
“He’s coming for me mother must teach me the way” you say against your training with fear and foreboding.
——-
Feyd’s earliest memories were of you, he’d been with his father on your home planet looking into your cradle. Your mother was beautiful and your father kind. You were peaceful and little and he’d held you in his arms. He felt protective and during the commitment ceremony he’d meant every word. As a second son your world was promised to him. Even as a child the differences between your two cultures were glaring to him. The freedom to play and be a child, the kindness of the people and you was something to look forward to. But then Rabanne had murdered his father, and his mother had been indifferent and after a few years it enraged him to no end. In a fit of anger he’d killed her. Even with all of his concubines he’d never felt as peaceful as he had with you in his arms as a child. He’d stopped a genocide in your home world looking for you only to find your mother’s kind eyes fearing for her life. He’d done right by sending her to a peaceful planet instead of taking her life. He learned you had been taken by the Bene Gesserit sisters which meant you could be anywhere. No matter where,  he intended to find you.His heart felt like a displaced magnet. Angrier still was the fact that he imagined you living a full life without him. Unbothered, not tortured by the distance as he was, happy and serene. Still he could not disclose his search to anyone in fear for your life. He would have to move carefully to keep his commitment to you.
 Another planet, stepping off the ship he’s given respect by the procession awaiting his arrival. His heart races; he knows your close. Sticking earplugs into his ears he applies the fasteners having his guards to the same. No one would use the voice on him today. He moves quickly spilling no blood. He can feel you. He’s getting warmer. He can feel it. Moving quickly he heads down into the belly of the academy moving quickly through the bunkers. His heart pulls as he passes an entryway stopping when he has a familiar sensation. Heart racing violently against his chest he stops Turing to face the steel door, he stops breathing allowing the violence of his heartbeat to reverberate through him like a war drum. Feyd-Rautha signals for his men to wait outside. Using the code scrambler he gets into the door. Hiding you hold your breath ducking down into the thick of your clothes, the sound of the alarms system’s failure are blaring. Fear racks through you as you try to keep calm remembering the Bene Gesserit mantras. Fear is the mind killer. The noise stops and you relax a little waiting for an announcement. Heavy boots hit the floor forcing you to freeze, the steps come closer stopping in front of the closet. Leis screeches and its muffled, trembling you contemplate your next move. The steps come closer and you see the door open, light filters in. You cover your mouth hoping for safety until a black eye meets yours.  Familiarity and horror paralyze you. Pale skin and a bald head. The face from your nightmares. Feed-Rautha Harkonnen. Pinching yourself you discover he’s finally free’d himself from your dreams and is now material. He steps in separating the close from around you leaving you crouched against the wall with no cover before sitting on your bed and watching you like he has all the time in the world.. His smirk is unsettling and it takes a moment before you stand feeling silly and all too vulnerable crouched in the deep closet.
“Get dressed” he croaks but you’re shaking like a leaf. Snarling he procures robes from the closet placing one over your head. The trembling intensifies. And he steps back feeling rejected. Leaving he has his men pack up your things and then there’s a barrage of people asking you all sorts of questions from what you like to wear and eat and do and it’s all so much. You’re loaded onto a Harkonnen ship and placed in a room alone. Looking through the window you gaze into space. When a few hours have passed you hear the door open and know it’s him before it closes. He takes a seat in his leather robes. You turn to face the man who moves like a snake. He’s more terrifying in person than in your dreams. His eyes watch your every move drinking you in. Parting his lips and showing his black teeth.
“Are you comfortable?” His words come as a surprise. It’s the thing you’ve least expected. It takes a moment before you nod, trying not to be rude as you look around the room.
“Yes, thank you” you respond.
“We are heading to my home world. I understand you have different needs. The Mentats are sourcing food and clothes if there’s anything you need let them know” he explains sanely.
“Ok” you respond, your hands begin to shake again. You sit on them trying to hide the true fear you feel. House Harkonnen is known for many atrocities. 
“I’m sorry” you apologize, terrified and embarrassed.
“Do you know who I am?” He asks.
“A Harkonnen” you confess and his snake-like eyes look displeased.
“Do you know who I am to you?” He asks, forcing you to frown.
“Nothing” you respond only to regret it instantly. Feyd-Rautha takes a breath inflating his chest as he trembles with rage, the paleness of his skin flushing as searing anger bubbles to the forefront. He stands stepping back from you in fear of hurting you.
“My father and yours promised us to each other” his fierce voice cracks as he struggles for control. His terrifying blackened teeth make your eyes shut. He’d done terrible things to people, slight and then slash that's how it went. He was one with his knives and happy to use them. You wait for life to end, your breath to hutch and everything to fade into darkness but it doesn't happen. You hear boots hit the floor three times. Bravery, curiosity? Perhaps it was so quick and painless that this is purgatory? You open your eyes and see Feyd has given you more distance. He’s recalled his anger and he stands stoic, fierce and regal.
“Do you not remember?” He asks because that day had been so monumental to him.
“I had heard heard whispers but …” you trail considering the realities and the odds. Your visions, how you’ve been in hiding. Out of all the things they call him; liar isn’t one of them.You consider the possibilities and it comes to you. Your heart begins to race, you feel stinging in your thumb, like a pinprick. A commitment ceremony was held. The realization is dizzying. “You wish to be married?” You ask and he nods. “To me?” You specify and he nods again. “But I’m nobody from an extinct world. I’m not even a high ranking member of my order” you declare in truth.
“No, you will be na-Baroness Harkonnen” Feyd says, taking a step in your direction. He watches you try to make sense of it. He’d never considered your reaction to being found, he hadn't expected fear or reluctance. He expected your inherent trust in him for you to cling to him for support and comfort as you once did, for you to relish his touch and be most comfortable in his arms.
“na-Baroness” you whisper, looking up at him. Pride fills Feyd at the sound of the words coming from your lips, utter perfection.
“My wife” he rasps and somehow your fear seems unfounded. “I made a vow that I do not intend to break” Feyd says recalling you in his arms as a babe. Your eyes looking up at him without fear in your swaddling helpless, innocent, true and his. A knock at the door causes him to withdraw, he turns standing in front of you. The guard tries looking around to you until Feyd stomps a foot. The man averts his gaze telling Feyd your landing is imminent. Nodding he straightens his gown as he stands tall. Feyd-Rautha holds out a hand. You take it with a deep breath and it seems to amuse him. The heat of him feels familiar. “There will be a crowd, I will send you along in a pod” 
“With who?” You ask standing with him.
“My men” he specifies and it's unsatisfactory. Grabbing your head dress you place it on your head and move forward that way. You hold his hand he secures yours warmly walking at your side. You keep up with him and as the door descends you start to tremble. He stands in front of you as you try to overcome your fear. His eyes are reassuring, his strong hands gripping yours in solidarity. There's no weakness in him. He’s all strength, cunning, volatility, rage and psychopathy. His eyes urge you to get a grip but the roar of the welcome party is unnerving. Your fathers reign ended to a crowd. Soldiers came and there was shouting, there was cheering and you had no time to say goodbye before your mother put you into an escape pod with a scroll. You arrived at an outer planet to find out your father had been beheaded. It’s why you hate crowds to this day.
“Not today” he whispers motioning for someone to come get you. The roaring is violent and you follow them into a pod lighting up at the sight of Leia. The two of you embrace each other warmly. In moments you’ve deemed each other okay. The guards watch the two of you closely. Sitting beside her you take a moment to check the beauty mark on the inside of your thumb. It had been there as long as you could remember. You should be terrified by your current predicament, inadequate training, no  preparation, playing a part of an unsanctioned plot of sisterhood, at the mercy of perhaps the galaxy’s most unbalanced man. But he’d been nothing but reasonable thus far outside of your abduction. 
The cheers from the people are thunderous, they celebrate his return with conviction. Once outside the pods you become acquainted with the sprawling palace halls. Uneasiness fills you and your hand clasps Leia’s for comfort, something your guards eyes settle on. Saying nothing you follow behind him seeing a Mentat among your escort. You’re brought into a grand hall with a stately black stone table. Fresh colourful food is on one side while rare organic meat is on another, the sight of the bloody dishes and iron rich aroma sickens you and Leia.
“I wish to retire, I am exhausted” you declare unable to sit. The silent guard turns to you nodding. He motions for a Mentat to guide you and Leia to your quarters. You're separated from her after a long hug. Your room is far grander than your quarters at the academy. It has a familiar quality of the ones from your home world. The colours are less sterile, the hues less grey. Pulling open the drawers you find lush vibrant fabrics, the sort of robes you remember your mother wearing before the fall of your house. It's a strange thing. Turning you lean against the dresser puzzled by the days events and not nearly as scared as you should be.
Finished and energized by his warm reception Feyd-Rautha heads to the dining hall. He waits against the door when he hears no chatter. Bracing himself for anything he pushes open the doors to find the room empty with the exception of the Mentat and a few guards charged with your care.
“She wished to retire” the Mentat explains.
“Did she eat?” Fey’d asks.
“No” The Mentat responds. Feyd’s mood sours, settling into a rage, if it were anyone else he would have dragged them back out of the room, placed a collar around her neck and forced her to do as he pleased but it wasn't anyone, it was you. 
“Set the table in my quarters” he demands heading into his rooms. Undressing he removes his armour until all he has on are slacks and a tunic. Feyd dismisses his staff sitting at the table and pressing a button. A screen emerges from the wall with a wide panoramic view of your quarters on display. He watches you as he eats, watches you let your hair down from the ornate style of the Bene Gesserit sisterhood. He watches the sway of your hips as you go from room to room. He watches you admire the artwork that's been placed there. Feyd-Rautha watches you with pride and admiration, you weren't trying to run as far as he could see. He watches as you return to the sleeping chambers. He feels himself stiffen as he watches you undress, standing he drops the rare meat drawn to the screen with a crooked grin as you make your way to the cleansing chambers. The bounce of your breast, the softness of your skin, everything has him solid as stone. He watches you step in and the misting of water commence, the beads of water glisten on your skin, he zooms in to get a better view of you unguarded. The surprise in your expression as the automatic system goes through the washing ritual.
His thoughts are heinous and depraved, his need for dominance, ownership, acceptance and submission are more than he can take. Releasing his manhood from his plants he begins stroking it roughly. For the first time he doesn’t call his concubines to satisfy him. They would all fail miserably, no one but you would ever again, but this night he would have to do. He needed you so bad he felt desperate. Stroking himself faster he’s practically salivating as the chamber begins drying you, the way your hair blows, the surprise in your eyes, the suppleness of your skin. It takes everything in him to contain his hunger for you, control his passion, his need. He wanted to be inside you marking you, claiming you with his seed. Watching your expressions change as he takes you further and further into the pleasures of passion. You would be his wife soon enough. His hands would never leave your warm flesh. He would keep his manhood sheathed inside you training you well. Coming hard from his own fantasies Fed’s shallow breaths bring him to a stark realization. He would do anything to have you stop trembling at the sight of him, he’d try to be as patient as possible. He needed your submission, your acceptance of him, and he needed it to be real, to want to share his bed. Looking up at the screen he watches you dress in sheer bed robes. Climbing into the large bed he watches you find comfort in it. 
“You’re mine” he says to the screen as a promise.
🖤
Thank you so much for reading 🩶 let me know if you enjoyed, want to be added to the taglist or anything else on your mind 🩶 comment, like & reblog for more Feyd. xx
TAGS: @elf-punk @dvmb4ssbiatch @thegabbyh @fanfiction-addict22
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reidswhre · 4 days
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spencer reid x fem!reader
warnings: it’s silly and fluff
a/n: this is the intro of episode 7 from season 3, i founded it so funny so i made this blurb.
“A popular theory among leading astrophysicists estimates that the hypermatter reactor would need about 10 to the 32nd joules of energy to destroy a planet the size of the Earth.” You didn’t exactly know what Reid was trying to explain to Morgan, but he looked cute.
Emily looked at you mockingly.
“Now, Lucas said it took 19 years to build the first Death Star, right?” Spencer looked at you.
“But if you look at The New Essential Chronology, there's a test bed prototype for a super laser that's been—” Morgan got up from his seat and headed toward Rossi’s new office.
“Where are you going?” Spencer asked Morgan, confused.
“Taking back the last five minutes of my life,” Morgan replied, and Reid made a face.
“I was listening to you.” You shrugged.
“I know you were, you always do.” He smiled at you.
“Don’t you want to know about this guy?” Morgan asked as he walked up the stairs.
“I do.” Emily quickly got up from her desk.
“I don’t! Are you kidding? No, no—This is dangerous.” You followed them.
You were starting to panic a little. Not for nothing, but this guy was pretty mysterious, and even though you might sound a bit like a people pleaser, you were dying to make a good impression on Rossi, and if he caught you snooping around his office, you two weren’t going to become friends anytime soon.
“I've got it all memorized. His books, his bio,” Spencer replied to Morgan.
“Yeah, books that sold over a million copies.”
“So?”
“That’s a million reasons not to come back, if you know what I’m saying.” Morgan explained to us.
I mean, of course, he was right. Why would a guy who had already ended his career years ago suddenly come back? He wasn’t going to do it out of kindness. But that wasn’t your problem.
“Huh!” Morgan exclaimed as he entered his office.
“Taupe walls. That’s a negative color.” Emily was analyzing it. “Cold. Distant. You know, emotionally, taupe is linked to loneliness and a desire to escape from the world.”
“I just figured the guy’s walls would be covered with plaques and commendations,” Morgan continued to Emily.
“Maybe he doesn't want to be reminded of past victories. It’s a new chapter for him.”
Spencer and you peeked into the office, you clinging to his arm.
“Whatever happened to the moratorium on intra-team profiling, guys?” Spencer asked the group.
“Come on, Reid. Team? I don’t think this guy knows the meaning of the word.”
“Probably not, but—We shouldn’t be here. What if he sees us?” You were quite scared.
“I don’t think he will, don’t worry.” Spencer took your hand, and you both entered the office.
“I found something. Looks like some type of religious art. Original maybe, definitely expensive.” Morgan showed us a painting in a frame.
You wrapped your arm around Spencer’s and leaned on his.
“It’s Renaissance art,” you replied to Morgan, looking at the painting in Spencer’s hand.
“If that’s original…” Spencer followed your lead.
“Is it?” Morgan asked.
“It’s kind of hard to tell, I mean, he’s into the classics,” you continued.
“What else?”
“Italian, strict Catholic upbringing, probably believes in redemption.” Spencer was pondering over the painting.
“I believe in a lot of things.” You heard a voice behind you, and it almost gave you a heart attack.
You lifted your head off Spencer’s arm, stepping away from him entirely. He gave you a puzzled look due to the distance.
“Catholic, yes. Italian American, 52 years old. Strict upbringing? Not so much.”
We shared awkward glances between us. This couldn’t be happening.
“Now the artwork? That’s 15th-century original, it costs more than my first house. And as for the wall color, it’s just a base coat, painters will come in and finish tomorrow.” He gave us an ironic smile.
You felt like you were about to die or something.
“Now, if you’re all finished, I think JJ and Hotch are ready for us,” he informed us. “Isn’t that how a team works?” This time he looked straight at Morgan.
You quickly ran out of there before the embarrassment swallowed you whole. Spencer followed right behind you.
“Hey! Wait for me.” You heard him behind you.
“Are you kidding me? I told you we shouldn’t have gone in! What a disgrace, I can’t believe it.” You turned to look at him. “What’s he going to think of me?”
“I don’t think he cares that much, really.” He took your hands in an attempt to calm you down.
“How could he not!? We snooped through his stuff! We profiled him! Oh, this is bad!”
Spencer laughed a little at you. “What are you laughing at!?” You frowned.
“I really don’t think it’s that deep, don’t worry.” He gave you a sincere look.
If you thought about it, it wasn’t that bad. He probably wouldn’t even mention it again, and it wasn’t like you did anything serious... at least you hoped so.
“You think so?” You looked back at him.
“Of course!” He smiled at you. “Come on, I’ll make you some coffee before we go to JJ and Hotch.” Spencer gave you a small kiss on the forehead, took your hand, and led you to the kitchen.
a/n: so this is how i was picturing Spencer and reader when they we’re watching the artwork.
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so cute i’m dying!!
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quasi-normalcy · 4 months
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Actually my concept for a Star Trek series would be something like:
It's 10,000 years in the future (or some big number, it's kind of arbitrary. It's a hell of a long time after anything we've seen, anyways)
The Federation and the Borg have long-since merged into a galaxy-spanning hyper civilization
Most sentient life in the galaxy is connected in a sort of utopian hivemind, but you can opt out. There are entire worlds that are just like...wilderness preserves for weird "throwback" types who value their individuality, unique cultures, etc.
The Civilization basically has a sort of collective midlife crisis and decides that it's stagnated; it hasn't really changed its technology or modes of living in thousands of years and it decides that cultural stasis is a sort of death (there's probably some kind of event to touch this off in the pilot)
Their solution is that they need to start exploring again to encounter new ideas, but all of the other galaxies are damn far away
But the Federation-Borg (Forg?) can't really operate over those distances, because they're out of direct contact with the rest of the hive and their units find this existentially terrifying
So they need to recruit a bunch of people from these weird throwback planets to go out and explore for them in a fleet (or in one really big ship with a bunch of, like, Enterprise-sized support craft)
Except these people have tensions because they all come from different sorts of cultural perserves. And some of them don't even think that they *should* be helping the Forg expand
The entire first season just shows their long, long journey through intergalactic space toward the Andromeda galaxy with just a few rare pit stops at isolated star systems all alone in the void
(Maybe, like...a haunted starship that has been floating in the night for half a billion years or something)
All of the aliens that they encounter are really weird and gnarly because this is outside the galaxy, so there should be no humanoids
They eventually get caught up in a bunch of shenanigans between rival gods and the like.
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scribs-dibs · 6 months
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i'm an orange moon...
(reflecting the light of the sun)
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major spoilers for 2.1, gn reader, it got a bit angsty i didn't meaaaan itttt, aventurine is touch starved and you Know how i feel about touchsta💥
wc; ~ 1.6k
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“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”
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Aventurine knows how to be an actor. He does so easily— his carefully crafted mask is more familiar than his own face. He is a performer first and a person second, because there is not a time or place on this or any planet where he can afford to lose anything more. The pieces of himself are barely put together, what is left of him seems to seep like sand between his very fingers. His family, his planet, himself, torn to ruin. And yet it is said that fate smiles upon him. The fractured pieces of himself are a blessing. What a funny thing fate must be, if his hell is said to be a heaven.
The mask must never slip, not even once— his life is a stage, corpses weighing heavy on his back, grasping hands chaining his feet, screams tearing his eardrums to shreds, and yet he must walk it anyway. And Aventurine will, and he will do it without missing a step. For this is what it means for him to live, his every breath a sin.
Aventurine knows how to keep a poker face. He does so easily— his smile is trained never to meet his eyes, it doesn’t know how to, and his hypnotic eyes are always trained on his next opponent, never leaving or faltering. He can’t afford to look away, to see what could possibly come next— to see what could hurt him, next. Aventurine could control nothing in his life. He couldn’t control the Katicans as they laughed as they took his father, or his mother, or his sister, and he couldn’t control when his swine of a master forced him to murder his fellow slaves, either. But he can control who he gets close to. He can control who he lets in, who is allowed to see what he looks like when his walls finally crumble.
Which, of course, is no one.
So it comes easily when he pushes well-meaning gestures away, or refuses a favor with that soft, styrofoam smile and a laugh. It’s not just second-nature, no. It’s the only one he has left.
Aventurine knows he doesn’t deserve the sanctity of being loved. This fact comes to him easily– all who have dared to try have been disappointed, and all who had mattered to him are gone. He knows it well, he is far too many pieces, far too broken, far too much of a mess for someone to come to try and fix. And this is fine, because he doesn’t have the experience to even fantasize about what he is supposedly missing. The closest semblance to friends that he has may as well be rivers or oceans away, with the amount of distance he has put between them and himself.
So you. You are strange to him.
Aventurine does not know what the hell your deal is. He doesn’t know how you got so close. He doesn’t know why you bother.
“Aventurine,” the false lights of Penacony dance in your eyes when you look at him, and something sickening and foreign twists in his chest. “May I hold your hand?”
That gives him pause. For a moment, his lips part, and his brows threaten to furrow under the weight of his pure bafflement. But, as always, his mask slips back on easily, a kind smile slotted into place.
“Oh? Afraid of getting lost?”
You walk beside him on the streets of Golden Hour, taking in the sequins disguised as stars and the specially-manufactured cool night air. He can’t tell if you’re naive or just easily impressed.
“No,” you say with a shake of your head, “Maybe I just…felt like it.”
Aventurine does not change anything in his face. There isn’t so much as a slow bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows, or a look of conflict crossing his features. There is no hesitation in his face, his mask, at all. But even so, when you look at him, through him, your kind smile finds a way to become kinder, and the tenderness in your eyes somehow becomes more potent.
“We don’t have to,” you don’t look disappointed, or even expectant, at all, “We can keep walking. Just this is enough as it is.”
“Just this” is the oddly peaceful silence as the two of you walk together. Your presence is comparable to a sun he never got acquainted with— he’s used to the storms, to the rock and sand, to the unyielding weather he was forced to endure, but this is different. This is just a walk, and there’s no search for water while the taste of blood coats his tongue, or the threat of thunder or biting cold. It is just peace at its purest. He extends his hand.
“Far be it for me to argue. Be my guest.”
You light up immediately, elated. He's thankful for his shades— the brightness of you is blinding. And he isn't quite prepared for the feel of you. Even through his gloves he feels the warmth of your hands— it is everything he is not. His own are ruined; he was pried from his home, and forced to take a bloody, bloody climb back up to earn his own humanity again. Aventurine’s hands are ruined beyond repair— no amount of washing can cleanse them, but yours, yours are so different. They aren't fully soft, you have work and hardships of your own, but they are gentle. Taking your hand feels easy because there are no expectations or commands hidden in the grooves of your palms. There are no hidden weapons behind your back, there is nothing but the feeling of flesh against the dark smoothness of his glove, and for a moment, he almost finds himself staggering.
How long has it been, since he touched another with no expectations? To not force himself to be overly friendly, to not appease anyone for the sake of getting information, to just exist, with someone else's hand in his?
The last willing touch he remembers feeling came with his fingers dipped in blood, salty tears thick on his taste buds. This is different from that. This is worlds away from that.
And Aventurine does not know how to feel. He doesn't know how to arrange his mask in response. There is no light in his eyes, not anymore, at least, but for a moment they are so wide with shock that Golden Hour’s stars swirl in the mix of blue and purple— a complex, vulnerable galaxy. Aventurine does not know how to feel. And it bothers him.
The tips of your fingers slide from his palms to the tips of his own, raking tiny sparks across the fabric of his gloves. Your fingers are interlocked now, and his head is spinning. You're everywhere. Under his gloves, under his skin, everywhere, and it's troubling. Strangely, he doesn't want to let go. For a moment —one that is fleeting and miniscule, barely a blink of an eye— his mask softens, melting around symptoms of genuine comfort, but his wounded heart kicks in defiance. The mask clicks back into place when your gaze meets his again, a smooth, porcelain smile easily greets you. Just as it has been taught to.
(His hands are nice. You know he thinks differently, has been taught to think differently, but they are firm under your palms and quickly warm to your touch.)
“Shall we?”
Distantly, he is aware of the implications of holding hands on a busy city street, encircled by onlookers and gossiping figures— this is the behavior of lovers, friends, family, people who are much, much closer than the two of you are. But your touch is…pleasant. It could mean trouble for you, to be seen with him when so many people have him under such a careful watch, (He is never truly free of people's stares or of their suspicion, and this makes associating with him more than a hassle.) but you know this, and have yet to keep your distance. Experimentally, he flexes his fingers around yours. It's faint, and a gamble if nothing else, but you squeeze him back almost immediately.
Aventurine knows he is greedy. This is intertwined into his being almost as tightly as the hold of your hands. He knows that this is a rare, fleeting moment, one that he will never get to indulge in again —not when his plans to discover the truth of Penacony are sure to succeed— and he knows that he will long for it once it ends, the sweetness of it clinging to his teeth. But he wants it. He wants this singular moment of peace, of keeping the mask on but for once not needing to perform. The city is busy as ever, bustling crowds and cheerful chatter echo up into the walls of tall buildings. It would be nice, to continue your walk together like this, with your soft, sunny hand in his. It would satiate his greed, if only for a moment.
But Aventurine knows he is not worth your time.
“It's been lovely, really,” he almost slips— he almost winces when your face falls. You aren't as practiced as he is when it comes to keeping a poker face. “But I really must be going.” His hand slides out from underneath yours, but it is not as easy as he thought it’d be. The ghost of your touch already serves to haunt him. A few steps back, and your warmth still lingers.
“Take care out there, alright?” he says it with a tilt of his head, his best, practiced and perfect smile easing the tension from your shoulders. Performing again, this time for a private audience.
He only gets a few steps away before you call for him again.
Aventurine knows how to pretend not to hear and keep walking.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
rbs w/comments are appreciated!! <33
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carionto · 11 months
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Just needs a *little* more Sun
The Humans are searching for and cataloguing planets for potential colonization. It is an insanely long list and they've just started - they are willing to tolerate a lot. Like, partly shielded solar radiation, hostile weather patterns, changing tectonics, extreme temp-
right, Deathworlders. Nevermind.
Anyway, this list includes planets beyond what they should be able to tolerate by their own standards. As in, each planet lists how long a regular Human could survive with access only to food, water, and basic shelter. There are a lot of planets with the note: "One Standard Day or less". Most of them, not all for whatever reason, also have a note: "Terraforming efforts approved".
Interestingly, while the notes on suitability for Human survival go into granular detail, and offer extensive suggestions for measures on how to mitigate the negative and boost any positive aspects of any given analyzed planet. The terraforming bit is just that one sentence, and when we asked a Human colleague, they just shrugged and said:
"Case by case basis, there's a lot of different methods we wanna try out, and people will come up with new ones once they're actually at the planet, so it's impossible to preemptively detail what we're gonna do. It'll be fine, don't worry too much."
We decided to worry a bit and went to check out one of the planets. It had a single note in bold regarding the difficulties:
EXTREMELY LOW TEMPERATURES
When we arrived the Human station... was not in orbit of the planet, but instead quite a distance away just on the edge of the planet's gravitational influence and was technically orbiting the local star.
As we approached, we noticed a massive folded structure being constructed. It seemed very reflective, with another smaller structure that was mostly transparent. Confused, we inquired what this was about and if they had given up on terraforming the frozen planet.
"Ahh nah, dudes. We're making a big ol' lookin' glass and mirror ring. Keep it in, uhh, geo-orbit, or I guess solar orbit right between 'em. Gon' shine more Sun on that planet, warm it up natural like. More or less. My son came up with the idea while playin' with the other kids. Bet he'll be a proper science person one day."
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9th-empress-suravi · 1 year
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Hello Everyone,
This is *Infinity ASTRONOMERICA * and This Website is My Infinity Palace.
So, Welcome to my Infinity Knowledge Palace....,
"The Palace of Infinity ASTRONOMERICA."
. . .This Title is Related to Knowledge about Astrophysics & Astronomy.
I wish to assure you that astronomy and astrophysics are the most Interesting thing which will catch your attention.
So, Welcome to the Infinity Knowledge Palace of Celestial Empress.
Our Universe is vast. Sun is one amongst billions of stars situated in as many Galaxies. The distance between planets and stars are huge, and so their masses. The estimated age of the Sun is about 5 billion years, compare to the lifetime of a human being, which is less than 100 years in most cases. The distance and masses of Celestial objects are of fundamental interest in Astronomy. There are many Galaxies, Stars and Planets with many unknown Celestial object are wondering arround in This Vast universe.
We will know about them slowly in future with this Tag-Title, "The Palace of Infinity ASTRONOMERICA".
_Infinity ASTRONOMERICA 💫
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jayrockin · 1 year
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The crest of the Bug Ferret Galactic Community, a intergovernmental organization that represents the of the vast majority of bug ferret polities and institutions in galactic politics.
The crest depicts the habitable tropics of the bug ferret homeworld, and the avatars of their planet (brown and white ferret with a teal band overhead) and their large moon (pink spotted ferret with an orange fungi) surrounded by a pink cloud representing their relationship as egg twins in Star Family mythology. The homeplanet is shown transferring life to their sibling, who is imagined as having been a stillborn that was returned from death by terraforming. The six other ferrets represent the inhabited celestial bodies of the local star system. There are some expanded forms of the BFGC crest that include avatars of more or all of the inhabited worlds in their territory, which can get ridiculously large. Bug ferrets can only see red through green on the visible light spectrum, meaning their blue gas giant and bodies of water are depicted as a dark, grayish green.
Like other ferret crests, it can be represented in any style between painted realism and a "Braille" form; simple grooves that are easier for touch identification in total darkness. Bug ferrets do not use flags to represent political factions— they are accustomed to windless underground tunnels and tend to have poorer long distance vision than other sophonts, making "legibility at a distance" unimportant to them.
PATREON | STORE | Runaway to the Stars
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kuroosdarling · 1 year
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LIKE A VIRGIN — ༉‧₊˚.
ft gojo satoru !
꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. unprotected sex, fingering, lots of praise, creampie, aftercare — WC : 2.4k
꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after years of pining after each other, the moment has finally come. gojo was never one to be shy about having sex but it turns out being intimate was a whole different thing.
꒰ NOTES ꒱ : i promise that one day i’ll cut back on writing lovesick characters but sadly today is not that day hehe enjoy ! <3
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.゚
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loving satoru is holding the notion that while you may be star crossed lovers, the cosmos severely underestimated how much love he held for you.
instead of crossing paths, he collided into you, changing the scope of your world with a simple introduction that had the universe questioning why it even bothered to try to keep you two apart in the first place.
time has passed since then but that connection has always remained, the two of you circling around each other in a dance of fate. all it takes is for one of you to leap, and since gojo never did — it was up to you.
so you leapt.
and it was a wondrous blur, the planet aligning for this singular event that had all the stars on the edge of their seats. it all brought you to this moment, mouth crashing together in a hurried flurry, setting your body ablaze.
whispers of endearment flood out of your mouth and into his head, leaving it reeling in its wake. you could tell a part of him was still missing, lurking in the shadows, too scared to come out just yet.
it didn’t bother you at first, not when his lips never left yours — nibbling your bottom lip anytime you tried to break for air.
but the damned blindfold still hung around his face, covering the eyes you so desperately want to see. he didn’t actively have his infinity on but the distance between you could’ve fooled you.
annoyance started to flicker within you, twirling around with the unabridged want and causing the fire to spread. you finally pull away from his kiss, leaving you breathless.
but he kept on, kissing down your neck and not even sparing a glance at you. but who could tell with the dark blue fabric wrapped around his head. a part of you envied it for a second, craving that level of closeness it shares with its holder.
there was a moment of hesitance, one so short that if you weren’t so hyper focused on him, you would’ve missed it. at first, you shook it off, opting to help him out by unsnapping your bra and sliding it off.
the second the fabric hit the floor, gojo pounced, shoving his face between your tits before enveloping one of your nipples in his mouth. you mewl at the sensation which only has him sucking a little harder before he switches to the other side.
“gojo.” you coo, trying to pull him back up so you can properly look at him. but he kept kissing your chest, leaving little marks that you’ll carry with you for the days to come.
you watch as his hands tremble slightly, the way his breathing was uneven. all of it could’ve been chalked up to the heated moment, but something told you that wasn’t the case.
“gojo. why are you acting like this? you’re not a virgin, are you?” you tease him despite knowing he’s not. a foolish attempt to cover up the insecurity on why he felt the need to keep a barrier up with you.
the words didn’t come out as gracefully as you wanted but you’d figure he’d rip your clothes off by now, flip you over, and start fucking into you like he did with the other women he used to bring over. but he could barely look at you. and it annoyed you.
“no but-“ a pause. “you kind of make me feel like one, though.” he said honestly. there wasn’t his usual overly playful lilt in his voice. instead, it was coated with something a little more serious — more raw.
“what? how?” you try to pivot so you can look at him, but he keeps you in place.
“because it’s you. the other women i’ve slept with have never made it past that, it was always just sex. but you? it’s so different, so new.”
“gojo, i-“
“please, call me satoru.” he continues placing kisses along your neck, running his lips back and forth until he was sure he covered every inch with his affection. “i’ve wanted you for so long, since the day i met you.”
“satoru,” you start, but your breath hitches as his hand starts gliding down your body, hiking your skirt up as it trails back up.
“and you just had to wear this skirt tonight.” he almost groaned into your neck, his fingers trailing up your thigh. everything felt so suffocating, like if he didn’t kiss you right then and there, you’d never recover. “always drove me so crazy because all i wanted to do was flip it up and sink my dick into you.”
“well there’s nothing stopping you now.” you tease.
and that’s all it took to flip the switch.
finally, he was a man of action, pulling back and hastily removing his blindfold so he’d let you look into his beautiful eyes. the normally bright blue color was quickly descending into a dark abyss, his pupils looking wider than you’d ever seen them — almost a little crazed.
the moment your eyes met his, you felt all the walls crashing down into a pile of rubble at your feet. the explosion was instantaneous as the sparkled ones met yours, holding nothing but a swirl of love and lust. utter devotion that he was ready to pour into you.
“been waiting for this for too long.” the words rushed out of him in a slight whine as he leaned in, melding his lips against yours in a filthy kiss that had you instantly hooking your leg around his waist.
his hands pushed you further into the bed, before it trailed up your leg to keep it in place. his clothed cock started grinding up against your core and it was already all too consuming. his fingers trailed up your legs before dancing along your inner thigh. the movement tickling you but gojo isn’t letting up from the kiss.
he pulls back for a second, his slightly sweaty forehead leaning on yours as he looks down to where his hand grazes along your cunt. your hips buck up at the sensation. gojo’s glossy lips slightly part as he rips your panties down your legs.
before you can call out in protest, he’s sliding one lengthy, lithe finger in your already sopping pussy. his focus goes back to your face as you let out a mewl, already humping his hand for more.
“you want more?” he asks, whispering against your lips. he feels your breath swirl with his but he won’t connect with you — not until he has an answer. you can only nod, moving your hips faster. “how much can you take?”
“all of it-“ your mind is already fading fast, pleasure crawling up your body with each thrust gojo’s finger gives you.
he adds a second finger and it’s all it took to have you unravel around him, clawing at his hair — his back, your hands roaming all over him to find purchase as you squeeze around his digits. he watches in awe, mesmerized by how beautiful you are.
with a slight pop, his fingers slide out of you and directly into his mouth. he groans unashamedly at the taste, eyes fluttering shut as if it would help him savor it a little more.
you move to get up, to get closer to him but he lightly pushes you back on the bed, opting to grab your ankles and hike you closer to the edge.
“i hope you weren’t lying earlier when you said you could take it all.” he unzips his pants, pulling out his leaky cock, precum already drooling off the sides. he gives it a few pumps, showcasing how long he is, relishing in the small gulp you give out. “because you’re about to get it all.”
your fingers weave themselves into the sheets as if it will ground you from the way gojo was trying to split you in half with his cock. with a soft groan, he eases the tip in. slowly pushing in, inch by inch.
even though he’s taking it slow, his whole body is screaming at him to hurry up. hell, even your body was suggesting it as you greedily sucked him in.
but it was so much better this way. the way your moans and his groans meshed together in the air paired with your warm, tight walls pull him in, had him wanting to savor this moment for as long as he could.
besides, if he pushed in like he wanted to, he’d probably cum on the spot. and since you already made a teasing comment about him being a virgin earlier — he decided it was best to hold back right now.
but then he bottomed out and he’s never heard a sweeter cry fall from anyone’s lips. tearing his eyes away from where you two were now fully connected, he trailed back up to your blissed out face.
“satoru-“ you coo up at him, reaching your arms up to touch him. “move, please.”
once your arms entangle themselves around his neck, he pulls back out. another whine fell from your mouth and had him driving back into you, thrusting like his life depended on it.
after years of repressing his feelings, of acting like he didn’t care about you even though he was pretty sure you were the reason the earth spun — he finally got to be with you. finally felt like he was good enough to have you like this, let alone touch you.
and the way you sang for him had him chasing a high he doesn’t think he’ll ever reach with anyone else. you were it for him and this just further proved that point.
“yeah, fuck, just like that.” he grunts your name by your ear, slipping closer to your body as he desperately keeps pushing into you. he needed to hear you say it, needed that validation to keep him going. “you look so pretty when you take this dick. who’s — shit — who’s fucking you so good, huh?”
“you!” you cry out, digging your fingers in his back. “you are-“
“you're so good for me, feel s’good around me, fucking made for me.” he keeps babbling as his fingers quickly reach down to twirl around your neglected nub, causing you to cry out his name again. the sound was heavenly and he never thought he’d have a chance to hear an angel sing, but here he was — blessed as can be. “this pussy is so good, best i’ve ever had. want it to be all mine.”
“it is! it’s all yours, satoru!” you hiccup, his thrusts paired with the way he was playing with your clit was sending you into overdrive. he let out a moan as you clenched around him.
burying his face in your neck, he starts to leave little love bites, sucking and licking your neck to his hearts content. he felt the familiar white hot sensation rush shoot through his body, but he’d be damned if he came before you.
“gonna cum for me, baby? need to feel you cum on my cock.” he encouraged you. “need to see your pretty face as you do it, too.”
his pretty eyes were trained on your face, and it was all too much for you. he watched as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your lips calling out his name. the way your cunt squeezed his cock had him gasping out for air.
his hips stuttered as you kept pulsing around him, trying his best to fuck you through your orgasm before he inevitably finished. your legs locked behind him, pushing him in deeper — if that was even possible.
he moaned out your name as his thighs trembled, pushing his hips flush against yours as he felt himself pump all of his cum into you. after a few final, weak thrusts, he stills inside of you. he was absolutely spent but used the last bit of his energy to caress your face, tucking his finger under your chin and bringing you in for a sweet kiss.
“there’s no one quite like you, is there?” he whispered against your lips like it was a secret he was confirming with himself. “how’re you feeling?”
“i’m good.” you almost slur, blissed out from the pleasure that was still easing itself throughout your body. he pressed his lips on your forehead before sitting up a bit.
“i’ll be back in a minute, sweet thing.” he kisses your head again for good measure as he grabs a towel from the bathroom. his eyes trail over to the tub he had in there and an idea popped into his head. he’s never done this kind of thing before, but for you? he’d do anything.
starting up the bath, he adds different oils and soaps into it. lavender wafted through his nose and once he was satisfied with the water temperature, he came back for you.
“ready for your bath?” he murmurs, scooping you up in his arms.
“you drew a bath?” you question, shock evident in all of your features. he just laughs, bringing you into the bathroom. he eases you in before getting in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.
“only the best for my best girl, right?” he presses a kiss against your ear before nuzzling into your neck. you let out a content hum, leaning back into his arms.
there was a quiet beat, a moment where the two of you could just enjoy the closeness together as you came down from your highs. gojo cant tell if it’s his proximity to you or the soothing scent of lavender infiltrating his mind, but it has him wanting to say those three little words he’s never said to anyone — reserving it just for you in a moment like this.
“i love you.” the words tumble out of his mouth and into your ear. he can almost feel you shiver as you take in what he just said. he didn’t feel any fear, he knew you’d say it back.
and for something he ran from his whole life, it’s never felt easier. his world shifting on his axis as you return those three words to him, finally capturing his heart and never letting him go.
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moineauz · 5 months
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helooo, 1 ticket for Exodus, starring Boothill & gn Reader as main leads
𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ THE HOUSE OF MUSICA PRESENTS... 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ノ𝐄𝐗𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐒 — boothill !
synopsis: a gradually rekindling bond between two ill-fated souls. in other words, you encounter a partner you never thought you'd see again.
side comments: not me writing more boothill... also this was partly inspired by the song too sweet by hoizer.
extra: boothill calls reader 'doll', uses the word pretty for the reader, mentions of alcohol, boothill and reader have their issues ig, gn reader, boothill backstory spoilers, fluff and angst word count: 1, 385
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Being part of the IPC was like a ticket to an expressway: smooth sailing amongst galaxies and stars. You could have slipped your wrist in the rings of planets; allowing them to adorn your human flesh in glitter and gold.
"I reckoned the IPC would send one em' tonight," insinuated the man beside you, his voice husky and gruff, "Didn't think you'd fancy your whisky neat."
You share a winsome smile, still gazing ahead, lifting the glass to your lips unfazed, "Who said I couldn't have my whisky neat?"
The man scoffs before chuckling lowly, "Well, I thought the IPC are a little..." he leans forward, his cool breath brushing against the shell of your ear, "Soft, don't you think doll?"
The bar is thronged that evening. Chatter warms the walls while candlelight swishes above in scintillating opulence. One chime after another, click and sway, swish and pull. Your ears heed the bar lines of inordinate movements like a song. Even the subtle whirl of the man's arms and the click of his heel is oddly pleasant.
"And I thought galaxy rangers keep to themselves," you languidly turn your head to meet his face; fixing your eyes on his like the head of an arrow kissing its bullseye. "A shame I have to endure your presence. Considering you're a ranger, you're awfully loud," you riposted.
"Ha! You don't know what you're missin' doll," the man teases, yet, there is an edge to it, "Do all IPC members talk like that? All bark and no bite?"
"I'd like to say bite and no bark," you reckon smoothly, like velvet curtains draping over the walls. "Why waste your breath when all you need is a single shot?"
A splitting grin grows on his face while he shakes his head charmed, "Now you're talkin' my language doll! One bullet does make a heck of a difference."
You bite the insides of your cheek, your jaw tight before him, "Spare me the small talk Boothill," you retorted placidly: a facade of indifference casting a shadow over your face. "You know I don't fancy playing cat and mouse in your boots."
"Oh you never change," he chides, placing his left shoulder on the bar's smooth counter. Boothill's face rested in his metal palms as his shiny eyes settled on you. "That's your only fault."
The corner of your lips quiver slightly, he doesn't notice. "Even metal carries its dents," you pause, your words suspending in the air's murky atmosphere, "And it seems you carry that burden quite well."
Boothill stills as you call for another fill. Whisky trickles into your glass; swishing in hues of sweet amber. It soothes the bitter lump in your throat as it gushes down sip after sip like the ocean current churning away.
Silence draws you closer; knitting you together. You heave a sigh, gingerly placing the glass on the counter, not a sound echoing above. "You always drank your whisky neat," you remarked bitterly, "And you always got drunk afterwards."
Boothill's smiles echo some ineffable tenderness and it caresses your cheek despite its distance. "Ha! Don't make me all sappy over here doll, might have to bring her out if you keep this up." Despite his words, Boothill's voice is strangely hushed: hollow like the crevices of a skeleton. Or a body that doesn't quite fit its soul.
You smile, pushing the bounds of his words with your voice, "Then bring her out Boothill. It's been some time since I last saw your precious gun. A shame you hold her so much closer."
"As sharp as ever," Boothill conceded; twirling the gun like a toy. Its varnish slick like butter as it glistened under candlelight. "Seems I have to up my ante."
In one swift movement, Boothill instinctively slips his nippy hands around your waist: his belt of bullets pressed against your hips with benign familiarity. His other hand intertwines with yours, like the lacing of a corset- tight and tender. Boothill lifts your arm, raising it with frivolous flare accompanied by a wicked grin. Your shoes click against the bar's smooth surface and Boothill leans forward. The shadows of his bright face made known to you anew. Now, the two of you stand, one breath apart.
"Seems like old habits die hard," he mutters, his eyes following the curve of your lips and the pools of your eyes, "Can't help it when you keep sittin' here all pretty. Sippin' whisky for fudger's sake..."
You raise your eyebrow tentatively before an unabashed smile stretches across your face and you giggle. Your laugh slips through the air like a fine mist and Boothills breathes it in. The cogs of his chest whirl a touch faster as you sparkle in all your quiet limelight: tucked away in a corner bar, it beats boldly one step at a time
"Looks like the IPC employee can laugh," Boothill teases, the jazz band kicking off its rhymes with the beckoning call of the trumpet.
"Is that all you think of me?" you surmised, a mirthful expression pressed against your skin, "I expected better from you," you teased.
"Shallow?" Boothill muses, the band's drummer now pushing the song as you and Boothill shuffle to the center of the bar, feet moving as one, "I'm all but shallow; especially when I'm dancing."
You press your hand on his metal shoulder, the spark in your eyes dimming slightly, "Then show me."
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Being part of the IPC was like a ticket past the waiting rooms and into the hospital bed: refuge under the captive's wings. You could have laid your heart there to rest; allowing yourself to be part of a grand tapestry, one of them.
"Looks like you still have it in you after all this time," remarks Boothill as his fingers find their way to your waist, "One more song?"
"I've had enough," you state, yet, the roused smile on your face still beams, "It's late."
Boothil clicks his tongue. "Come on... just like the old times, wouldn't hurt for another spin," surmised Boothill, his voice oddly mellow with a trace of dejection.
"You don't want to dance," you rebutted, "You want to talk."
You slip your hand off his metal body, its coolness lingering on your fingertips like a ghost. Boothill blinks, his hands now fallen by his sides, the grin on his face tight as he shakes his head.
"I'd reckon you'd... catch on. You always had bigger fish to fry."
"You know I hate fish."
Boothill chuckles. However, it's mellow and lush. Reminiscent of the open plains the three of you once wandered. Sweetgrass brushing against your legs in rhythm with the breeze. The cusp of the morning sun nestled in the palms of your hands like a nest. In the evenings you lingered amongst free horses; braiding through the stars and their lush mane while weaving through riverbeds, singing sweet dreams.
"I miss the kid too."
Boothill smiles, "I know."
"Then keep your promise," you amble towards him, your shoulders in parallel as you promptly seize his hat, swiftly placing it on your head. "If you want your hat back," you jested, "Meet me at the bar when you're done catching your 'Acheron.'"
Boothill smirks, placing his hands on his hips, languidly leaning to the side, "And why would I do that? I've got plenty of hats."
You scoff, "Is that so? Then I guess I don't owe you my answer."
Boothill pauses abruptly, his eyes wide, "You-"
"I still have the ring," you interject, a subtle quiver emerging from the back of your voice, "But I never gave you my answer."
"Doll I-"
"You vanished before I could give you my answer."
Boothill grows quiet and you sigh. Neverthless, you slip your business card into his pockets and press a curt kiss on his cheek, his hat still on your head, "So keep your promise, Boothill."
Boothill nods; heaving a prompt sigh before gazing up at the ceiling, a spark flickering within the corners of his eyes, "I won't let you down."
"Good," you surmise, gradually ambling away, his back still turned from you and vice versa, "I won't let you down."
Boothill grins quietly, muttering to himself as the aroma of whisky clings onto his metal body, "You never did, not once doll. Not once."
masterlist.
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silkenedstars · 2 months
Text
Sweet Slumber
An Emanator such as yourself that traveled for so long deserved to rest and Sunday is more than willing to help you sleep.
₊✦Honkai: Star Rail | Sunday x Gn!Reader | Yandere content up ahead!! (if you squint)✦₊
Additional Notes: Wrote this for my mutual @dilvei and it was her idea too, so go check her out right now!! 😤😤
Also might write more parts for this since I like the concept but idk, maybe, possibly.
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The cosmos had been so lonely lately.
It felt desolate, a lot more than it normally did. You didn't know when exactly this change occurred, only that it did and that the only reason you could think of on why you weren't affected was because you were an Emanator of the Trailblaze.
But then, why didn't you see anyone else who was following the Path of the Trailblaze as you did? Or even other Emanators? Sure, you encountered a few Emanators of Nihility — all of whom looked more hopeless than ever — but you could count how many you encountered in just one hand during the past decade traversing the universe.
Something happened, but what was it?
Maybe you just needed to travel further out to find out.
So that's what you did.
But everything was the same no matter where you went.
There was nothing— no trace of life in any of the planets that you visited. The few "lifelike" beings you found might as well have been corpses, having fallen so deep into sleep that waking up was but an impossible dream for them. You wanted to help them, but alas, your powers were more suited for persevering, not healing, so leaving those poor souls be was your only option.
If only you had the Astral Express by your side so you could at least ensure that they'd remain safe under your watch, but the Express was also missing; having disappeared around a decade ago when all of this began.
So you left them behind.
The cosmos got colder that day, but feathers started fluttering about wherever you went from that point onwards.
It must've been a sign, surely, that you were getting close to something that was very important. Whatever it was, you weren't sure— Aeons know that it might already be too late and that important thing was already gone, dead even, but you needed to take whatever you could at this point.
This solitude was not one that you were fond of.
But the feathers, they were soft to the touch and gently drifted across space. Holding one in your hand brought comfort and travelling in the direction they came from filled you with a sense of ease. Like you were meant to head in that direction, in that way.
Wasn't this just the perfect way for the universe to guide you towards the answer for why there was barely anyone around?
Something felt wrong deep down, but what did you have to lose? If it was your life at worst, then there was no need to fear as you were an Emanator of the Trailblaze. The moment you felt death coming your way, you could just warp back to a planet far away and straight to safety. It was that easy.
So with your mind set, you travelled towards the source of the feathers.
₊ ˚ - — - ˚ ₊
Upon further thinking, this might've been a mistake, but the sight presented before you was certainly worth the trip at the very least.
Hundreds of thousands of wings stretched out far and beyond. You didn't see them before, but now that you were closer to this… sun-like being standing in front of you, it looked as if they stretched out infinitely; leaving no corner of the universe untouched.
You wondered if you could reach them and brush your hand against them.
If you focused, you could also faintly hear what sounded like a choir singing in the background. It sounded familiar, but why it did was beyond you.
Nevertheless, this sun-like being didn't appear to notice you and while it would be a smart choice to make your getaway now, the curiosity you felt about all this only drew you closer to it.
After judging the distance between you and it, you began closing in on it cautiously. The choir that was barely audible just a few moments ago grew louder little by little until you could pick up on it with ease. It was a melody you've heard before, you were sure. But it was an old melody from an equally old memory, you doubted that you'd be able to remember where it was from on your own no matter how much time you spent on it.
That didn't stop you from humming along it.
Each star you passed seemed to be replaced by a musical note, all of which slowly coming together to undoubtedly form the very melody being sang by the choir. Rainbows, just as infinite as the wings themselves, weaved themselves into existence as the dark blanket covering the universe slowly lifted and revealed colours akin to the purple littered sky of dusk.
Then it noticed you.
That sun-like being noticed you.
The wings, once stationary, seemed to rush forward to wherever they were extending to with speed you could barely comprehend; resulting in millions of feathers to fall out and scatter in every direction. The illusion that the universe provided quickly cracked and fell apart, the sky returning to its cruel dark colour and the stars losing their shape as the sun-like being approached you.
It was only when the being was right in front of you did the illusion it provided fully break, and only then did you start seeing the humanoid body that was attached to the wings and sitting right in the center of what you thought to be a sun.
Eyes were littered all across their body barely covered with deep purple and white silk cloth together with golden jewelry decorating every inch of it. You couldn't get a glimpse of their face due to the two small wings covering it, but you could see their silver hair — as well as the golden crown floating right behind their head — gently cascading down their shoulders and floating behind them as they slowly came closer towards you.
Then they stopped.
A chuckle, a low rumble, echoed throughout the space around you before a pair of hands — much bigger than you were — approached you from below and captured you within their grasp. They held you gently, settling you within their palms before moving you closer towards their— no, his body.
"You need not be afraid," He whispered softly, bringing you just close enough to get a better view of the decorated wings that covered his face. There was nothing left for you to see, not with how each individual silver feather tucked away his features delicately behind them. "I will not harm you."
"I… didn't think you would," you answered hesitantly. Truthfully, you very much thought that you would get squished between his palms or crushed between his wings, but his presence brought with it a sense of comfort so powerful that it made you want to fall asleep instead.
His head tilted in response and his feathers fluttered; moving in such a way to tease you into thinking that the smallest part of his skin would be revealed. "Is that so? But I can feel your heart beating within your chest, Emanator. If you are not afraid, then are you nervous?"
You shook your head. You were beyond nervous but strangely calm at the same time.
"Cute."
You froze.
"Cute..?"
Why did he call you cute? Did you— wait, no no! You couldn't afford to get sidetracked now! This being, he likely had answers as to why the universe was so quiet, why everyone had fallen into an eternal slumber, or some clues at the very least.
"Never mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions!"
He tilted his head, "Questions?" before he finally stretched out the wings covering his face, allowing you to see it as his lips shifted into a smirk, "Very well. Ask away, Emanator of the Trailblaze."
You parted your lips, prepared to ask every question that had been dwelling in your mind only for no sound to come out as you found yourself distracted by his eyes; those golden eyes that seemed to burn holes into your very being while trying to drag you deep into their depths at the same time.
You heard him chuckle lightly before tilting his head, his earrings gently swishing to the side and chiming just as sweetly as bells did, washing you over with a wave of fatigue.
Wait, fatigue?
"Changed your mind, Emanator?" he cooed, "You do look rather tired."
You weren't tired just a moment ago though!
"I'm… not…" you protested weakly, your words coming out slurred and quieting down little by little. "Not…"
Tired.
You shouldn't be tired.
What did he do to you?
"Oh? But you very much are, Emanator."
He shook his head, the chiming of his earrings lulling you further into sleep as he brought you up to his shoulder and plopped you down right next to his neck, uncaring and unbothered by what you could possibly do to him with your new proximity.
"I'm sure your journey has exhausted you so," he said, nudging you a little with his index finger — which was just about the length of your entire body, if not slightly longer — and adjusting your position so you were lying down and curled up against his skin. "Rest well, Emanator. I shall take good care of you until you wake."
"W- Wait… your name… please…"
You wanted to find out at least one thing before you inevitably joined the rest of the universe, and if the information happened to be something as small as the being's name, then so be it.
"My name… Ah, I haven't been called by it in so long."
Your eyelids shut close as your body finally plunged into the depths of dreams.
"Call me Sunday, Emanator."
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