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hapan-in-exile · 4 months ago

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It's alright to just admit that I'm the fantasy

A Mandalorian One Shot

Yeah, I know your little secret...

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Reader: You are a courtesan at the Dark Garden, Coruscant’s most prestigious pleasure house. Owned by the crimelord Boss Set’ki and operated by his lieutenant Mistress Anassa, when business meets pleasure, you’re expected to entertain soldiers on the payroll. But there’s one—a Mandalorian you’ve come to know and respect—who’s never taken advantage of your services. Until one day, he asked, What if next time I said yes?

Word Count: ~9K

Pairing: dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Warnings: Roleplay, bondage, blindfold, fingering, oral sex (m+f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, hair pulling, choking, biting, protected anal, unprotected piv, rough sex, edging (him), explicit consent, aftercare.

If the above looks super intense, please know I wrote a soft(er) dom Mando—no extreme degradation. Lots of checking in! Lots of praise!

A/N: This is a one-shot set in the same universe as my ongoing Mandalorian fanfic series. It has no bearing on the series plot.

No description of skin, hair, or eye color; no description of age or body shape.

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Tales from the Dark Garden

“Thank you,” the Mandalorian says disinterestedly, sliding the pile of neatly stacked credits into his waiting palm. “Please extend my gratitude to Boss Set’ki for his generous and timely payment.”

You watch him tuck the metallic ingots into one of the leather pouches sewn to his belt—right between the buckle and a string of explosive charges. There’s a dull thunk when the butt of his rifle knocks against the table’s edge as he turns to leave.

It's quite the arsenal. The bounty hunter certainly cast an imposing figure.

It’s a miracle those shoulders made it through the hatch.

You’d heard rumors from the other girls at Dark Garden about the fearsome Mandalorian who visited Mistress Anassa. This just happened to be one of those delightful twists gifted by the universe, where the real thing exceeds expectations. He was terrifying. And sexy as hell.

That first moment when you’d opened the door to see him standing there in full plate Beskar was a shock to the senses that would have reduced a younger you into a stream of inane babbling.

Good thing you had a lot of practice controlling your expression—the demands of professional decorum, after all. It would ruin your Mistress’s reputation if you started drooling over the customers.

The armor suited him. It accentuated the breadth of his shoulders, the strength in his forearms, and his powerfully muscular thighs. The belt slung low around his tapered waist, and the quilted canvas hinted at the taut abdominals concealed beneath.

All the adrenaline that surged through your body at the sight of his weaponry had immediately transformed into excitement, raw and primal.

This man made you feel…

Sweet gods, divine and merciful.

“Of course,” you smile, leaning forward to place your elbows over the polished tabletop so that your breasts rise enticingly. Lacing your fingers together, you gently rest your chin atop your knuckles. “I will happily deliver your compliments to my master.”

The Beskar gleamed in the candlelight despite an ashy layer of soot. From the state of him, he might have come straight from the lower levels where he’d tracked his quarry. Your eyes linger over the blood splattered across his helmet, sending a shiver of panic down your spine. What sort of violence had this man committed mere hours ago?

Arousal surges within you, fear and wanting intertwined.

The gore and grime are a stark contrast to the lush surroundings. Draped in silk tapestries, with thick woolen rugs and brocade pillows, your shuttle interior was designed to be a sanctuary from the vulgar world outside.

But you suspect the Mandalorian wrapped brutality around him as tightly as the cloak hanging from his neck. It would take a woman of considerable charm to remove either.

Which is why Anassa chose you.

“It is my honor to serve, Master Set’ki,” you reply, rising artfully from your chair and gesturing toward the lounge where you’ve laid out a modest tea service. “And my duty to please.”

The Mandalorian pauses midstep on his way to the door.

“Excuse me?” he asks, curiosity peaked.

Shrugging out of your robe, the silken fabric pools at your feet. You kneel onto the plush carpet before pulling back, sitting on your heels, and reaching for the enameled pot. “My master thought you would enjoy the companionship. A chance to indulge in softer luxuries before you return to the Outer Rim.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet gives away nothing, but you can feel his eyes tracing over you.

Looking up at him through dark lashes, you explain, “The use of this ship—and myself—are yours for the night.”

Despite the layers of cloth and metal, when he folds his arms across his chest, you see the muscles in his back ripple. He looked powerfully, almost aggressively masculine. Like someone who took what he wanted.

And right now, he’s imagining taking you.

The fear is still there, but by now, it had sharpened to anticipation so intense that it ached.

“That won’t be necessary,” he says firmly. Yet, his words did not match his actions. Instead of continuing on his path toward the door, he turns to face you, uncrossing his arms to hold them at his sides.

Is he simply nervous? Sometimes, warriors hardened on the battlefield liked to yield dominance in the bedroom. Maybe you should try throwing him against a wall and climbing him like a tree.

No. If submission were his preference, Anassa would have chosen someone else—Katlin with her barbed whips or Bat’ya with her cruel tongue.

You need to coax him without pushing. The subtle art of persuasion.

Let’s start with coy seduction.

Turning to look at him from over your shoulder, you toss your hair just so, sending shimmering waves down your back. You twist gracefully at the waist until your bodice gapes, revealing the contours of your body.

“Think of it as a reward,” your voice is supple as the velvet cushions surrounding you on the floor. “Someone to take care of you. My only desire is your comfort and pleasure.”

With that, you pour the tea and walk over to him, proferring a cup.

“That is indeed generous,” the Mandalorian cocks his head. “But I usually find more comfort in solitude.”

Yet, again, he makes no attempt to leave, accepting the cup from your hand graciously. Worn leather caresses your skin as your fingers brush against each other, reaching around the warm porcelain. The jaw of his helmet lifts, and you catch a glimpse of bronze skin and coarse black hair while he raises the cup to his lips.

Surprisingly full lips.

What did he mean by offering resistance? Was this a challenge? Some test of your professional acumen?

A skilled courtesan is, above all else, a student of human nature and hidden desires. She must know what her clients want before they speak the words. Before they know it themselves. This Mandalorian wanted to be…tempted.

Timidity would yield nothing.

You arch an eyebrow, “I have never known a man who preferred solitude to my company.” Then, you stare directly into the jet-black surface of his helmet’s visor. Meeting his gaze, you place a delicate hand over his chest plate and fill your voice with honey, “Let tonight be a rare exception to the usual.”

The Beskar feels cool against your palm and the pads of your fingertips. You hadn’t realized how flushed you’d become with your heart beating this fast. The insistent yearning between your thighs matches each pulse coursing through your veins.

“I am here to satisfy your needs. Whatever the Mandalorian desires is his for the taking.”

While the bounty hunter remains stubbornly silent, you can hear his breathing grow shallow through the modulator.

Having made your supplication, you draw back. “If it is tranquility the Mandalorian desires, perhaps I could play the valachord or sing for him?”

“Sing?” he huffs, sounding amused. It’s funny, hearing the smirk on his lips.

Well, at least he’s not completely immune to your charm.

“Pleasure takes many forms,” you say, flashing him a demure smile. “As such, we courtesans are skilled in many arts. I’ve been told my voice is exceedingly lovely. And I know all the Twelve Ballads of Kiergaard.”

You shift onto the edge of a thick cushion to pour yourself some tea. When you raise the cup to your lips, the look of elegant femininity slips—just for a moment, so he can see the earnest hunger filling your gaze. You fix him with your most smoldering stare, “Though I can certainly think of other ways to please you with my mouth.”

The tea tastes bitter on your tongue, but you hardly notice, waiting for his reaction.

The Mandalorian says nothing as he pulls the rifle over his head, settling it against the door frame. He walks over in a slow saunter that makes his hips dip and sway. Slowly, he extends his hand to take your face in his leather fingers, lifting up your chin.

“You want me to fuck your mouth?”

Your breath catches in your throat. A wave of arousal courses through your body, emanating from your clenching belly until it ripples over every surface of your skin, pinching your nipples.

“If the Mandalorian—” but he cuts off whatever beguiling line you intended.

“I thought this was about what I wanted?” he demands.

Suddenly, you’re too flustered to speak, confused by the sudden shift in dynamic. All his polite reticence had been an act. He was done testing you. He wanted to assert dominance.

In answer, you lower your gaze.

“That’s right,” he says cooly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You’re remembering what you’re for.” The Mandalorian takes the cup from your hands and tosses it aside. “There’s no more need to talk. Don’t open your mouth unless I tell you.”

Then he reaches down to his belt and unbuckles it.

And to think you worried he’d be too self-conscious for roleplay. This is going to be so good.

“You’re here to give me whatever I want?” he asks, his tone gruff and intimidating.

You don’t look up, just nod.

He laughs, “I’m glad we understand each other.”

With your gaze locked on the floor, you watch the tread of his boots make their way to a lacquer armchair in the corner of the room. His knees splay wide as he leans back in his seat. “Answer my question.”

“Whatever the Mandalorian desires, I will give him.”

“Because tonight, your body is for me.”

It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding in confirmation.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

You answer truthfully. “That you’re a dangerous man, and I should do my best to please you.”

“Smart girl,” he says in a rough whisper. “But don’t worry, I have no intention of harming you. I’m going to make you come. Then you’ll sing for me, senaar'ika.”

Senaar'ika. Little bird.

Your whole body flushes with heat.

“What do you know about Mandalorian customs?”

When you hesitate, he adds, “You can answer me.”

“I know that it’s a sacrilege to look upon your face. That to touch your helmet, even by accident, is to forfeit my life.”

“Then you’ll understand why I need to tie you down.”

At that, your head snaps up to look at him.

“Or tie you up. I haven’t decided yet.”

Part of you is terrified by the thought of being captive to this man for hours, splayed wide and helpless. The other part of you wishes he’d do it this second.

“You can undress while I make up my mind.”

Obeying his command, you stand and reach behind you for the lacings of your bodice.

This, at least, is an art in which you can make your mistress proud. The trick is to envision it’s a private ritual, something deeply intimate. That you always loosen the silken knots this slowly. That each row of the lacings must be pulled free, one—by—one.

You lift your elbows so that he glimpses the soft curves of your breasts as you move. Slip your right arm from its fitted sleeve, then the left, until you’re certain the dress will fall, cascading over your body like waves caressing the shore.

Only then do you turn, rolling your hips and then your shoulders, displaying your nakedness, before you finally look over to where he’s sitting, as though you’d forgotten anyone was watching.

At some point during your performance, the Mandalorian had leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together in wrapt attention.

“That was beautifully done,” he murmurs. “You may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart swells, hearing his admiration—perhaps because it sounds so genuine. Suddenly, all you can think about is how best to please him, the things you’ll do with your lips and fingers.

“I understand the Hapan courtesans from Dark Garden are the most expensive, the most prized companions in all of Coruscant.” The hunter’s voice sinks into a low, husky rasp as he says, “But tonight, I’m not interested in your talents, though I’m sure you have many. This is about what I want to do to you. Tonight, you belong to me.”

It’s just as well he demanded your silence because you can’t speak.

You know he can see you breathing, shallow and fast, from the rise and fall of your breasts. See your pulse thundering against your throat. He’s feeding off your fear, you realize. That’s why he keeps trying to catch you off guard like this. The Mandalorian wanted to shatter your artful calm and see something raw and real in your eyes.

You know you should be afraid—and you are—but you’ve never been more turned on.

So when he gets up from his seat to approach you, you don’t bother hiding the way your whole body trembles in trepidation.

The Mandalorian crouches to pick up the belt from your discarded robe.

“Give me your hands.”

He uses the fabric to tie your wrists together, wrapping the belt around and between them in a complicated knot. Then, his strong hands pull you under one of the lanterns suspended from the ceiling.

Cupping it in his palm, he lifts the glowing orb from its hook to set it down beside the abandoned tea service. The cabin grows dim, like he’s wrapped you in shadows.

That’s when you realize what’s about to happen. Unspooling the cable from his whipcord, he loops it through the empty hook. He’s going to suspend you from the ceiling by your wrists.

The breath coming from your nostrils is so fast now that it’s the only thing you can hear in the close, quiet cabin of your shuttle. But you say nothing. You can’t protest; you can only submit.

After securing your bound wrists to the cord, he inspects the knots.

“Not too tight?”

You release a deep breath and shake your head no.

“You remember the signal?” Mando asks with concern, breaking from the fantasy entirely.

“Yes,” you smile up at him with more confidence than you really feel—trying to ignore the insistent throbbing between your legs.

“You can stop me at any time.”

“I know.”

“Alright,” he says before his voice drops into a rough whisper. “You’re giving me total control. Anything I want is mine.”

Fuck, just hearing him say that makes you ache with need. That same trembling emanates from inside you, fear and arousal, two halves of the same coin. You don’t know precisely what the bounty hunter plans to do to you—and the suspense just makes the fantasy feel more real.

Within seconds, you’ll be tied up, defenseless against him and his desires. The only way to stop him is to say the safe word, and you already know you won’t. You want it too much.

You’ve spent months building up to this—years, really. It’s my choice, you’d told him. It’s different when it’s my choice.

“Yes,” you whisper breathlessly.

Then he pulls down on the whipcord, and your arms lift above your head.

For one panicked moment, you think he’s going to haul you entirely off the ground, but your feet remain on the floor, bearing your weight. You remind yourself that this is his domain. He knows how to bind, what the body can withstand.

And for now, the tension feels manageable. Slack enough so you don’t feel the strain in your joints; taut enough so you can grip the cord to steady yourself.

Yet you remain utterly helpless, unable to turn your head or move without losing your balance.

He takes a few steps back, leather boots creaking, and you watch as the Mandalorian strips his gloves off before removing the Beskar from his arms and chest. The fabric underneath outlines every contour of his powerfully muscular body.

Though not as graceful as your tradecraft, he certainly knows how to build anticipation. Each time his hands grip, pull, and tug, your stomach clenches.

Soon, you feel volatile, ready to explode, waiting for him to touch you. When he finally does—when you feel the tip of his calloused finger tracing over the length of your spine, it burns through you, down to your core, so hot your cheeks flush scarlet.

“It’s a good thing we have all night,” he murmurs. “There’s a lot I want to do with you.”

As he circles, the view plate sweeps up and down your body as though inspecting some prize captured in a snare. All you can do is stand there on display, completely exposed, until he makes a satisfied sound, a hummm that vibrates through the modulator. The hunter, pleased to discover what he’s caught.

“I feel deeply honored to receive you as my reward,” the Mandalorian sounds eager, standing behind you, voice full of hunger. “Now spread your legs.”

The breath catches in your throat, hearing that tight ache—the same raw yearning to match your own. You want to obey.

But there’s no give to the whipcord. The bindings on your wrist pull tighter the farther your feet draw apart. Though you can still balance, your shoulders start to burn from the stretch. Slowly, you rise onto tiptoes. But not fast enough—

Wrapping an arm around your waist, the Mandalorian lifts you from the floor.

“Wider,” he commands, gripping you roughly by the knee to pry open your thighs with his other hand. You have to bite back a scream. By now, you’re so wound up that just the sensation—the air cool against your wet center, his powerful chest pressed against your back, his fingers digging into your skin makes you drunk with lust.

“You’re so wet already, senaar'ika. It’s slicking down your thighs,” the Mandalorian groans, breath warm against the back of your neck. His hand gripping your knee slides upward between your legs, tracing toward the heat of your skin. “No wonder you were begging me to fuck you.”

His fingers part and probe—massaging in slow, firm circles that spiral until you’re panting. Every stroke sends pleasure pulsing through you, and you can’t stop yourself from whimpering.

“You like it when I use my hand?” he asks, voice maddeningly calm. Only the persistent throbbing against your hip, matching each beat of his heart, betrays his arousal. When you release a sigh in desperate delight, he says, “Maybe this is how I should start.”

And fuck, if Mando doesn’t knows exactly where to touch you—how much to bear down and how fast to go.

“Mmmph,” a moan of deep satisfaction escapes his lips as he thrusts two fingers inside you, sending a gush of wetness welling against his palm. He pushes them in and out, obviously relishing the obscene squelching sound.

Wait! When did he take off his helmet?

No. No, this is forbidden. This is dangerous.

You couldn’t move your head to look at him even if you wanted to, but your eyes shut tightly just the same. The fear of seeing his face, the dire consequences, amplify every panicked thought running through your mind, heightening every sensation—his fingers curling, his thumb pressing down over your clit.

Your breaths come sharp and shallow now. All the blood in your body rushing between your legs. The stimulation is almost too much to bear, the excitement and panic roiling within you—the Mandalorian dipping his fingers inside, slipping them out to circle and stroke. Drawing a wet line between your cunt over and over.

Desire ripples through you in waves. Your body tightens, muscles clenching. Your bound hands keep straining in their futile urge to grab his wrist, your knees fighting against him to shut tight around his thrusting fingers.

You’re close now. So close, you’re on the brink.

He kisses the back of your neck, “Don’t worry. I’m going to take good care of you.”

“Aaangh!” That’s when he presses harder, circles faster, and you come, “Haaa-aah!”

Your orgasm crashes through you in a tidal wave that upends gravity. You cry out desperately with all the air left in your lungs—the relentless pounding of your heartbeat against your eardrums making you dizzy.

“Haa-aah! Aaah!”

Losing equilibrium, you sway, and the bindings pull painfully around your wrists. You’re at the limits of your flexibility, fighting to keep your balance before the Mandalorian’s muscular arm tightens around your waist, until he’s bearing enough of your weight to keep you upright.

“I’ve got you,” he says gently, pressing a tender kiss over your head. “Stand up. Come on. Legs spread. You know what I want.”

You shift on your heels, testing your unsteady knees. “I can’t—” but your words break off into a gasp when he clasps his hand around your throat, warm and sticky with your come.

“Shhhh,” he whispers against your temple. “I told you not to open your mouth unless I said so.”

His tone is soft, and he kisses you tenderly again through a tangle of damp hair, your forehead glistening with sweat. But his fingers grip tighter in warning.

“Don’t speak unless you’re begging me for more.”

You nod once in understanding.

“Smart girl,” he says, and without the helmet on, you can hear the wry grin on his lips. “I’m glad we understand each other. It’s going to make everything so much easier. But just to be sure—”

His wide palm fans out from your waist, gliding down your body to slip over the curve of your buttocks.

Then he brings it down in a sharp smack that echoes through the quiet cabin. Hearing that slap, feeling the sting on your skin, the burning heat that radiates from his handprint—shakes you from the hazy lust.

It’s not enough to want to obey.

“I’m going to take good care of you, senaar'ika. But you have to do as you’re told.”

While he’s playing a role, the pain is very real. Yet this fantasy is about your powerlessness. Whatever the Mandalorian wants to do to you, you have to take it. Yes, the pain is undeniable—but the adrenaline?—it sharpens the hunger.

When you finally regain your balance and tilt your pelvis forward at just the right angle, your ass brushes against his straining erection, and he groans, a low vibration you feel through his chest. Arousal arcs through you, and you gasp responsively. Even now, as your body tingles numbly in the aftermath of climax, your cunt still aches, longing to be full of him.

With his entire body sealed against you, you feel the firm pressure swelling against your ass. It throbs, heat radiating through the canvas flight suit. The coarse fabric is rough, rubbing over your slapped skin.

“You feel that?” he whispers, grinding the entire length of his cock against you. “That’s what you’re going to take for me.”

Holy fuck, he’s huge. Thick, too. Your mind reels at the impossibility; can you really fit him inside you?

“You’re going to take it all,” the bounty hunter huffs, as if he’d heard your thoughts. “You’re going to come with my cock buried in your ass.”

Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!

It’s something you’ve talked about, something you said you wanted and prepared for, but….you’ve never had anyone this big up your ass before. He’s going to tear you apart.

“Are you scared? Because trust me, I’m going to make you ready. You’re going to beg me for it. Then you’ll come so hard with my cock in your ass, nothing else will ever feel as good.”

The hormones that suddenly surge through your body make arousal indistinguishable from panic. You should be so afraid, and yet, you want this. Under the fear, you’re still full of need, urgent, and emphatic.

“After that, if you’re lucky, then I’ll fuck your mouth.”

Shit! Shit, that’s…you try to banish away the shame washing over you. He’s going to claim your body in every way imaginable, use you filthy—and it feels like you shouldn’t want this. But you do.

“Don’t worry,” he sighs, voice sounding softer now, gentle. “I’m not going to rush this. First, I want to explore your beautiful body.”

You feel the cold Beskar plates against the backs of your thighs and shiver.

His hands slide outward along your shoulder blades, curving down and around just enough for his fingers to lightly brush the sides of your breasts. Then, the Mandalorian’s arms circle you, reaching up to grasp them in both hands. Arousal rekindles as he kneads and squeezes, pressing them together tightly. Igniting as he tugs and pinches.

And when your nipples are so tender you whine, “Mmmph!” he soothes them in his wide palms.

“You—are—so—beautiful,” he moans, kissing the curve of your jaw.

Behind you, his lips trail soft, open-mouth kisses down the back of your neck, between your shoulders, along your spine, and lower, until he drops to one knee. His hands trace over your ribcage, your sides, the indentation of your waist, and the flare of your hips.

The pads of his fingertips are coarse but tender.

“Look at you. Legs spread. Open and wet for me. When I dream of you, this is what I’ll see.”

Then he crouches between your knees to press lighter, softer kisses up the inside of your thighs, teasing you until you grow desperate with anticipation. “Haa!” you gasp, already panting.

Spirals of arousal coil through you, so dizzying you have to grip the whipcord for balance.

Soon, you’re lost to anything but the desire for him to taste you. That he’s risked so much by removing his helmet is the only thing keeping you from breaking position, regardless of the punishment. That’s how much you long to tilt your hips and rub yourself against his mouth.

Don’t speak unless you’re begging me for more. Would he like it if you begged?

“Please,” you whimper, voice full of desperation.

He groans in satisfaction before making one long sweep of his tongue, right through the very center of your urgent longing. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes!”

“I like hearing you beg.” Then his lips press firmly between your thighs, enfolding you in his warm, wet mouth.

Okay, wow, he’s good at this. He’s really, really good at this.

The Mandalorian’s tongue searches for your clit, stroking and circling in a rhythm that drags you back to the brink almost instantly. But slowly, agonizingly slowly, to hold you at the edge of pleasure—like he could do this, keep you suspended there—forever.

“Show me how much you want it,” he says, hot breath tickling against your delicate skin.

If you could bury your fingers in his hair, you would. Instead, you shift all of your weight onto one leg, using what remains of your equilibrium to drape the other over his shoulder, feeling the rough stubble of his beard and the shell of his ear press against the inside of your thigh.

Helping you balance, one strong hand grips you by the hipbone while the other slips over your knee before guiding his mouth between the sopping wet folds of your cunt.

You tense every muscle, digging your heel into his sinewy back to try to keep him there. Right there!

He rewards you by lapping faster—and then, when you cry out, speeding up even more. “Sing for me, senaar'ika.”

Every throb of pleasure ripples through your body from your nipples to your scalp, all the way down to your toes, until you can’t help yourself from rocking your hips, increasing the pressure just a little more. You feel each bob and turn of his head as he keeps at it, caressing you in spirals as a long, luscious wave of ecstasy swells inside you.

Mando’s fingers tighten around your thigh to hold you in place. He keeps going, maintaining his rhythm so that you can ride each cresting surge. It builds low, climbing and arcing higher, and when it finally overwhelms you, when you let go, and it rushes through you—you do sing. You cry out in one long wail that lasts the length and breadth of your climax.

Your body goes limp once the orgasm fades, and just like last time, the Mandalorian is the only source of strength to keep you upright. Hands clutching your hips, he pulls back to place a wet, sticky kiss low on your belly, then says, “We’re not done yet, little dove. Not nearly done yet.”

Gods in heaven, how much more of this can you take? You’d love nothing better than to sink to the floor in post-orgasmic bliss…but his cock is still in his pants.

Too afraid to look down, you feel his body shifting between your knees and wonder, what next? Should you offer to reciprocate? Fuck, you want to. Right now, you want him in your mouth so badly that it’s all you can do not to beg for it.

Your lips part, the words ready on your tongue—

When suddenly, he lifts you by the back of your thighs, settling you on top of his shoulders. You barely have time to gasp, to grip the braided cable between your hands—to think—before he buries his face between your thighs again.

“Oh, gods!” you gasp. “Oh, haah…!”

The tension in the whipcord keeps you from falling backward, but you feel precariously weightless sitting on his shoulders. Reeling, overstimulated from your last orgasm, you instinctively try to writhe away from the press of his wet tongue, his hot mouth, the coarse hair of his beard, and nearly lose your balance.

Mando steadies you, wrapping his arms around your lower back, ass braced against his thick biceps as he works, tongue parting the soft creases of your cunt to find your sore, throbbing clit.

This time, he holds nothing back, laving and shaking his head until your vision starts to blur; the pleasure is so intense it’s blinding.

Oh shit! Merciful gods, this might break you. It’s too much. Too much. But you can’t move. Caged in his arms, you have to take what he gives. It feels so good.

You don’t think it can get any better until he starts to suck. After that, you can’t think about anything anymore. Your mind is just blank. Static. White noise.

Fuck! You’re at the brink again—so fucking close—your heartbeat is thundering against your ribs. The muscles of your inner thighs lock, clenching around his jaw. Your body is poised right there. Right there! That exhilarating moment before—

And at that's when the Mandalorian slips a finger, slick with your come, inside your ass.

The sensation kindles alarm, and your entire body tenses in response. All your instincts awaken in primal fear to remind you just how vulnerable you are.

Okay! It's okay! Just relax.

In answer, his other hand begins sweeping up and down your thigh, caressing and soothing the tension away.

That’s right. You have to relax. He’s doing this for you, to make you ready. Right now, your pleasure is the only thing that matters. Focus on his tongue circling your clit, his finger gently caressing millions of tiny nerve endings.

But he slides up so seamlessly, so deep inside you, the pressure pools in your abdomen, and you gasp, “Oh, gods!” again.

Don’t resist the sensation—yield to it. Work with it. Take what you need.

Pulling on the whipcord for leverage, you thrust your hips against his mouth. He groans in encouragement, responding by sucking harder, licking faster—and then, spearing his tongue inside you.

Okay, yes. Yes! Gods, yes! You have never come so soon after your last orgasm, but he’s going to get you there.

That’s when he adds a second finger.

You feel it stretch you, but your body doesn’t resist this time. And when he starts working them back and forth in rhythm with the thrusting of his tongue, it starts to feel so good. So good.

Each rut of his tongue and stroke of his fingers sends heat coursing through you, so flushed now that your skin seems to be on fire. Your hair clings to your sweaty cheeks. But nothing is as hot as his breath between your thighs.

So you move faster, rubbing yourself against the raw stubble of his chin, the tip of his nose, drowning him in your cunt. All the while, he increases the pressure of his fingers just a little more, massaging inside you.

You start to shake, the muscles in your legs trembling, as the Mandalorian twists his hand, rolls his wrist, and you feel the brush of his knuckles against the tender skin of your asshole.

Then, he sucks your clit between his teeth, and you come in a burst of ecstasy so sharp it makes you scream. There’s a second when your vision goes entirely white—like staring into a bright sun—and your heart thumps so hard you hear the blood rushing in your ears.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your stomach.

His fingers gently slip out of you so he can grasp you by the ribcage with both hands, bracing you as you shudder through the ricocheting aftermath of your orgasm.

“You taste like heaven.”

He would know. His face, his hands, his neck, and shoulders are all covered in your come.

“I told you I’d take care of you,” Mando’s broad hands stroke the length of your back, and the sound of his voice melts away any lingering doubts. He knows when to be gentle and when to be rough. You can trust him with this.

When the bounty hunter ducks his head out from between your thighs, you think you’ll have to stand up again, get back into position. And you know you’ll be punished—but you can’t. You’re shaking too much for that.

It doesn’t matter. Your feet never touch the floor. Bending you at the waist, he slings you over one broad, muscular shoulder, so that you dangle limp and dizzy, upside down as he steps into a lunge to lift you both off the ground. Tearing your wrists free from the whipcord at last, your arms fall numbly behind him, blood rushing back into your digits.

Draped over his shoulder like a hunter’s prize, he strides across the cabin toward the bed.

Perhaps you’re delirious—you must be after three orgasms. Or maybe it’s because your fingers are so desperate to find new life. But when you look up (or is it down?) to see his perfectly sculpted ass outlined in dark gray canvas about a foot from your face…weak as you are, you can’t stop yourself from reaching for it. Your hand stretches lower until you feel its firm contours press satisfyingly against your palm. And gods help you, but you squeeze. Hard.

The Mandalorian chuckles, a deep booming laugh that has your knees jostling against his chest. You’re breaking from the submissive fantasy, but maybe he won’t—

“I knew you wanted it,” he laughs, voice full of triumph as—fingers splayed wide, he slaps his hand down over your ass cheek—the exact same spot as last time—so hard the sting brings tears to your eyes.

Fuck! Your jaw drops. The pain sharpens all of your senses, bringing everything into focus. Your thighs squeeze together, cunt clenching against the sensation. Fuck that stings. Right. He’s back in the role. Time to be rough.

“You’ve wanted my cock inside you since the moment I stepped through that door. Haven’t you?”

When he tosses you onto the bed, you fall onto the mattress, flat on your belly. But before you can get to your hands beneath you, he presses a knee down between your shoulder blades to keep you from moving.

“You want to beg me some more, senaar'ika?”

The silk belt of your robe slips over your eyes, and he lashes it tightly behind your head.

“Tell me!” he demands, like he’s making you confess to something.

“Yes,” you whisper into the sheets, words muffled by the bedding.

“Yes, what?”

“I want your cock.”

“Where?” he asks, and the sound of him tugging down his zipper fills your ears.

“In—inside me,” you gulp. “I want your cock inside me.”

You hear him tearing open the condom wrapper, “That’s right. Beg me to fuck you.”

“Please—”

Then he’s on top of you, hands pressing into the mattress on either side of your face, his knee lifting from your back to part your thighs, his massive weight pinning you underneath him.

Reaching between your naked bodies, he wraps a hand around the base of his shaft to rub the swollen head of his cock along the cleft of your ass, back and forth, slicking the entrance before he pushes inside you.

You cry out in shock.

So does he.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, that’s so tight! Haa, haa!”

Leaning forward, he places a soft kiss atop your head, pausing with just the first few inches of him inside, letting your body stretch to fit him.

“You okay?” he whispers quietly against your cheek, his face damp with sweat.

When you nod, he begins tracing his tongue over your earlobe, kissing your jaw and the corner of your mouth. His beard is still drenched with your come.

“This feels amazing,” his breath is hot in your ear. “Just this. You're gripping me so tight.”

You’re tempted to stop here, to say the safe word. And you trust Mando to stop; you know he would. That’s why he’s reminding you. And this does feel amazing, his body enfolding you, the rub of his bare skin over yours, the feeling of every firm muscle pressing into your soft curves—the pressure inside you.

But you want this. You want all of him.

“More,” you moan.

The aching burn is so intense as his enormous cock plunges deeper inside you—slowly, but without ceasing. “Oh fuck!” he gasps. “Fuuuuck, that feels so good. Almost, ha-aah…almost. It’s almost in.”

The burn as he opens you—the way the entire universe narrows to this bodily sensation, until you perceive nothing but its fantastic pressure—only anal sex does this for you. But its so hard to trust someone to be careful, to make you feel safe in spite of being so vulnerable and powerless. Mando does that.

“I’m going to start, haah…I’m going to start moving, okay?” he says, panting from arousal and restraint.

Adjusting his weight onto his elbows, he rolls his hips gently, strokes building. There’s so much lubricant on the condom; each shallow thrust is frictionless, but you’re still trembling like one of the strings of your valachord.

“Haah, you feel so good. So—nnngh—so fucking good!” Threading his fingers through your hair, his forehead drops against your neck, and the heat from each ragged breath spills over your shoulders. “Anngh!”

Then he starts fucking you in earnest. He pushes deeper now, pulling out further to feel the grip of your asshole squeeze up and down the length of his shaft. Already, you feel arousal peaking within you with each long, slow stroke.

Mando’s width and length stretches you, makes you burn. And you moan, fingers twining in the sheets as the pleasure becomes indistinguishable from the pain.

“You like this?” his voice is teasing again, getting back into the role.

“Mm-hmm,” you moan, unable to form words.

It’s like you can’t feel anything but him moving inside you, pleasure surging in ebbs and flows, like a tidal current. It’s hard to describe. The barrier between your cunt and anus is so thin you feel him everywhere. It burns, this inner blazing heat.

It’s a sweet agony, like the handprint on your ass, making everything tingle with sensitivity, amplifying every sensation. Even the pressure of the mattress against your clit is enough to send a thrill through you.

“Is this the biggest cock you’ve ever taken?”

You cry out in torment and desire as he shoves into you harder this time, and your whole body bends and turns in a desperate effort to accept every inch.

“Yes,” you want to sob into the mattress. It aches. It’s so fucking good you could scream.

“You’re taking it so good,” he whispers as he sinks in even deeper. “That’s it.”

And he’s finally all the way inside you now, so deep that when he starts thrusting, you feel the slap of his sac against the dip of your cunt. Each stroke presses you harder against the mattress—hitting you where it feels best inside and out.

And strong, so strong he pushes your body upward on the bed.

“I want to fuck you like this all night.” His voice is tight with strain—just barely holding on, waiting for you.

But he’s not moving fast enough for you to come.

“More,” you whimper into the damp folds of silk.

Mando pushes in again, burying himself balls-deep inside you before whispering against your shoulder, “What's that?”

You need more. “I need more…I need—”

“You worried I won’t fuck you hard enough?” he laughs, plunges in deep, and bites the soft flesh of your shoulder. It’s not enough to break the skin—but you cry out from the painfully sweet ache of it.

“Beg me, senaar'ika,” he says, sitting back on his heels, filling his lungs with each heaving breath. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

But this time, you don’t want to obey. You don’t want to say please. You want to find out exactly how hard the Mandalorian can give it to you. If you want to come with him, you need more, and you know how to get it.

You turn your head so he can see the jut of your chin, fill your voice with challenge and say, “Mercy of the gods, shut up and fuck—me—harder.”

The bounty hunter scoffs in shocked bemusement.

His arm hooks around your elbows, pinning them behind you, “You’ll regret that, little dove.”

Then he yanks back on your arms, pulling you off the bed, and against his chest. Your ass presses into the bowl of his hips, thighs sealed against his. His other hand slides up your stomach and between your breasts to clasp around your throat. A touch that means possession.

The Mandalorian owns you now, and he knows it.

Mando slams into you, and you want to cry out—but you stifle it somehow. You don’t want him to stop. You’re so wound up that tears well against your eyelids, dampening the blindfold. It scares you how much you want this. Gods help you, but you do. You fucking love it.

His thrusts remain slow at first. Deliberate. Punishing. Yes, punish me! His pelvis clashes against your buttocks like the snap of a paddle. But the tempo increases as he starts to get into it. Soon, he pumps into you so hard that it makes your breasts bounce, and your entire body starts to sweat. Your hair swings around your face, tendrils sticking to your neck, your flushed cheeks and forehead.

He never loosens his grip. Your shoulders start to ache from being pulled back so far—your throat throbs against his palm—and yet you want nothing more than the slap of his body, the feel of his cock filling you. It’s like he’s reaching to the core of your very being with every thrust.

Yes, you think, fuck me. Make me take it.

The bounty hunter’s hand tightens around your throat—unconsciously, you think—because of how close he is. Each ragged breath vibrates against your back. You can still breathe, but his grip keeps you dizzy and light-headed.

A sharp thrust, and your arousal climbs. Another, and it goes higher. Mando bucks and bucks, and the world behind your eyelids becomes bright and sparkly around the edges. Sensation shivers upward through you, strengthening by the moment.

The climax builds from somewhere deep inside you, and you sink into it with every thrust, slipping deeper into pure instinctive sensation, until it claims your whole body in white-hot ecstasy. When you come, the desperation in your wordless cries transforms into a feral scream as you fall forward, tumbling back onto the sheets when he releases you.

The silk feels so cool and smooth against your feverish cheeks.

“Haah, aah! I knew you’d love it,” he groans triumphantly. “Nnngh!”

But he’s almost at the brink himself—his body contracting, abdominals clenching. That’s when he pulls out, denying himself release.

The mattress dips and creeks as he climbs off you, and off the bed.

“I’m not done with you yet, senaar'ika. We’re not even close.”

You hear the snap of latex when he removes the condom.

What next? You’re limp and dizzy, lying sprawled across the covers. Will he make me come so hard I pass out? Fuck me until I can't walk straight? You shouldn’t want that as much as you do, but complete surrender can feel so sweet.

“I can do this all night,” Mando pants.

Then, he lunges across the bed and grabs your ankles so tightly you feel the press of his thumb dig into your bones as he drags you down the mattress, until your legs dangle off the side. The tips of your toes brush against the floor.

“You thought you could push me?” His voice has lowered almost to a growl. “But that’s not how this works. You belong to me.”

He pushes your thighs apart roughly, then clutches your hair and tugs back hard enough to bring renewed tears to your eyes. Bent over the edge of the mattress like this in front of him, you feel his other hand seize you by the hip, and with that, he shoves the whole thick length of his cock inside you.

“Aaah!” you cry out as he starts thrusting faster. His fist in your hair tightens as he pumps into you, and already you know you’re going to come again. How is that even possible?

“That’s right,” he pants. “You know you have to take it, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

Yes, make me take it. Gods help you, but you fucking love it. There’s nothing you love more than the slap of his body, the feel of his cock. “Yes!”

"Because you're mine. Mine to fuck."

"Yours...I'm yours."

Mando fucks you so hard and so fast. Your ass would not have been able to take this. Shallow rapid thrusts until, growling, he rams his full length into you. Then he’s pumping inside you again and again. By now, the shame you think you should feel at being taken like this—held down by your hair and fucked with every ounce of strength in his body, every bit of force he can put into it—has been eclipsed by the pleasure surging within you.

Every single goddamned stroke of the Mandalorian’s cock sets you on fire. A wildfire so hot it consumes you, burns you down to nothing. You press your face into the mattress and feel the tears welling in your eyes spill down your cheeks, pooling against the sheets.

The only sounds in the cabin are his guttural grunts of pleasure and the slap of your bodies against each other. Just hearing it turns you on even more.

He’s moving faster now, and you’re nothing but heat. Pleasure tightens, blazing inside you.

Mando fucks you, and fucks you, and then you’re coming again, clenching around his cock. "Fuck! Oh, fuck! Holy shit...it's so good!"

"Mmmph, you like that?"

"Yes! Yes, please! Don't stop...please don't stop!"

"Haa-aah, I knew you'd beg me for it."

You come so hard that consciousness is nothing but white light, white noise. Your cry is muffled by the sheets and blankets, but you wail it out anyway, unable to hold back.

“Yes,” he whispers as he pistons even faster than before, his hand on your hip gripping tighter. “Fuck, yes—yes!”

The Mandalorian groans as he throbs inside you. He goes tense, makes an animal sound that seems to come from low in his belly, and slams into you one more time.

Then he’s pulling you off the bed and onto your knees. You feel his wet cock press against your face. His voice is hardly more than a whisper, trembling with need. “Open your mouth.”

His fist in your hair doesn’t leave you much choice. You open, and Mando pushes inside. "You're going to swallow all of it."

It’s all you can do to take him in, to brace your palms against his thighs. You taste your come slick around his cock as it slides between your lips. He’s so huge that you can barely use your tongue, but you bob your head, doing your best as he thrusts, shallow and then deep.

The Mandalorian's grip takes control, sometimes pushing no more than the head of his cock into your mouth, and you suck, hallowing your cheeks—then shoving into your throat, making you choke and gag around him.

It doesn’t take long.

"Haa-aah! Aah!"

He shouts out, and then he comes, filling your mouth with each hot pulsing spurt. You swallow it down, every drop, the sensation of him throbbing between your lips, almost lost in the spasms of pleasure still echoing through you.

The Mandalorian pulls out then. The fingers buried in your hair release their grip. Pausing one long moment to regain his breath, he brushes the sweat-soaked hair from your cheeks.

“You have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”

Really? Blindfolded. Flushed and sweaty, legs tangled beneath you, slumped against the bed frame?

But the honest tenderness in his voice has you pressing a hand to your chest.

His cock is still half-hard, nuzzled against your cheek, and there’s a second when you’re tempted to pull him down to slide back onto it. But…you’ve reached your limits.

And the Mandalorian is in no better shape. You hear him collapse onto his knees beside you on the floor, crawling over on his hands and knees to reach for something. His helmet, maybe?

But it’s not his Beskar.

Gently, he drapes the soft folds of your robe over your shoulders and gathers you in his arms. He leans back, sitting propped against the bed, settling you onto his lap. You let your head fall against his chest and delight when he rests his chin atop your head.

“Are you alright?” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” you manage to form words. “Just give me a second. I’m…melting.”

That makes him chuckle, and for a while, you both stay like that, laughing, breathing hard, barely able to move.

“I wasn’t too rough?”

“No! No, you were perfect. I loved it. It’s like—like you read my mind from that night we met. It was everything I wanted. You took such good care of me.”

His voice remains concerned. “But you’re shaking all over?” and his arms wrap tighter around you.

“It was just so intense.”

“Here,” he says pressing a cup of tea into your hands, then lifting it to your lips when your fingers tremble too much to grip it tight enough. Fatherhood has softened him.

“Are you?” you ask timidly.

“Am I what?”

“Are you okay?” You feel strangely shy in front of a man who just fucked you senseless. “I mean, was it okay that I asked you to do this? Are you okay with being—with what we did?”

“It was amazing,” he sighs, kissing your temple.

But that doesn’t really answer your question.

Honestly, this is the part you were most afraid of…that it would change everything. That no matter how good the sex had or hadn’t been, you thought, afterward, he’d lose respect for you, and it wouldn’t be worth it.

You don’t want his judgment or pity for needing this.

But there's no contempt in his voice. He doesn’t sound righteous. Or cold, or callous. And he doesn’t seem intent on sneaking out to leave you alone in regret.

“Before, I was worried that I might hurt you…and that was hard to balance against my instinct to protect you," the Mandalorian says thoughtfully. "But you made more than enough noise to let me know how much you enjoyed it.”

“Oh gods,” you laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth, absolutely mortified.

“That was the best part,” Mando lifts your hand from your face, tilting your chin up to kiss your nose, then your lips, not shying away like some men do, after they've come in your mouth. So you part your lips and feel the brush of his tongue against yours. His fingers wrap around your neck, deepening the kiss, and pulling you closer.

It’s not the unbridled passion from before–it’s tenderness and longing. Two lonely hearts finding shelter in a precious moment of fragile intimacy.

“I was just surprised, given…”

“Some of my clients never touch me. Some have hurt me—said horrific things. Most are rich businessmen,” you shrug. “Nervous about cheating on their wives. Regardless—given what they pay, they all expect a performance...

So it’s nice to let someone else put in the work,” your lips tug into a sly grin. “Seriously, five times? And your dom talk is shockingly good! The growling is very hot!” Guess it's true what they say about the quiet ones. "Now I get why Anassa keeps offering you a job."

"She told you that?" He scoffs.

"Hmm, she likes to tease me about having a crush on the Mandalorian."

Nestled into the crook of his arm, you feel the rumble of renewed laughter building in his chest.

"She told me I could keep the armor on."

You reach a hand behind you to stroke his jaw and bury your fingers in his hair. "I'm glad you didn't."

Mando's head turns in your grasp to place a soft kiss against your palm.

“And you don’t think differently of me for…wanting this?”

"I know the difference between fantasy and reality," then he leans forward to stroke your earlobe with the tip of his nose. "And I bet I could make you scream just as loud, taking you soft and sweet."

Now why does that make you blush redder than your slapped ass?

“Maybe next time, we can switch roles. Then I’ll understand better why you like it.”

Next time? You love that! He’s already thinking about the future.

Your brow arches, “Maybe I'll tie you up—borrow one of Katlin's whips to smack that tight ass of yours.”

“Oh, yeah?”

There are no words for the wicked anticipation in Mando’s voice.

Next time...

****************

Thanks so much for reading!!

#mando smut #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #star wars smut #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mando x reader #mando x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian smut

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sister-lucifer · 2 months ago

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Taken To Another World

⊹₊⟡⋆A Multifandom Fantasy AU Themed 5K Celebration Writing Challenge⊹₊⟡⋆

Special thanks to @ghostboneswrites2 for inspiring this!

Interested? Keep reading!

There will be two prompts for each genre; a pair for fluff, a pair for smut, a pair for angst, and a pair for horror. Each prompt comes with its own criteria, so read carefully!

How To Participate:

Reblog this post (for reach! thanks!)

Pick a prompt (or multiple)

Write your fic

Post it and tag me (feel free to send it to me directly if I don’t see it!)

Use the tag #lucifer’s 5k fantasy challenge

The fandoms this challenge is open to are as follows:

Obey Me!, Creepypasta, Marble Hornets, Batman (and all related media), Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure (all parts), and any original characters/universes.

Don’t see your fandom? You’re still free to use these prompts (and please tag me if you do so I can see it,) but it unfortunately will not count as an entry for this challenge!

Rules:

Feel free to pick multiple prompts, but you cannot enter more than one fic per prompt!

The fics can be part of your own ongoing series, but they must be able to stand alone as their own piece without the additional context of the series

Please state which prompt you chose somewhere on your post

Feel free to cross post your work to another site such as Ao3, but please, do mention that it was part of my challenge

Anyone can participate in this challenge, however I ask that minors stay away from the NSFW prompts

You are free to bend the prompts as you wish, there is no mandatory time period or setting

My inbox and messages are always open if you need to ask questions, consult me, or just want to discuss ideas!

The fics can be Character x Reader, Character x OC, or Character x Character; relationships can be platonic or romantic as you wish

Some prompts are written with pairs in mind; feel free to modify this to fit in as many characters as you’d like. Poly relationships included!

Absolutely NO incest OR pedophilia under any circumstances

NO AI, NO using other people’s writing, and NO using a piece you’ve already written

Pay attention to the criteria! Prompt 1 will have a required quote, and Prompt 2 will have a required plot point/action

The Deadline is currently undecided. This will be updated soon

Winners:

I will choose up to 3 finalists for each prompt. The finalists will be presented in a poll, and the readers will choose the winner.

The winner of each prompt will get their own shoutout/promo post including an analysis of what I liked about their fic, & at least 3 fics I recommend from them and why.

Does all that sound like fun? Good! Here’s your prompts:

Over The River, Through The Woods…

Fluff + Faeries

Prompt 1: In a fit of rebellion, a naive royal flees from the castle and into the woods. They stumble upon a faerie who, against all they’ve ever been taught, seems rather…kind.

Necessary Criteria: “Anyone can do a good thing if they try.” / “Well…how often do you try?”

Prompt 2: Fae don’t often leave their villages, except to gather. Unfortunately, one foolish faerie has found themself entangled in a trap left behind by a human hunter. Even worse, the human has returned to see what they’ve caught; although, they seem far more curious than hostile.

Necessary Criteria: One of the characters teaches the other a new word in their native tongue.

Magic Begins In Superstition, And Ends In Science…

Angst + Alchemy

Prompt 1: The job of an alchemist’s apprentice is rarely an easy one. Magic is a fickle mistress, after all. When the apprentice’s companion tries to pull them away from their work, the argument gets heated, until the pressure becomes too much and causes an intense explosion…literally.

Necessary Criteria: “You’re not even smart enough to understand what I do, and you think you get to tell me when to stop working?!”

Prompt 2: The alchemist’s work is starting to consume them. Blinded by their pursuit of knowledge, they recklessly decide to slip a bit of their newest experimental concoction into their companion’s meal without their knowledge. The alchemist convinces themselves this is all for the greater good, and surely nothing all that bad could happen, but soon comes to regret it.

Necessary Criteria: A horrible transformation.

The Tongue May Be Twice As Sharp And Thrice As Lethal As The Blade…

Smut + Swords

Prompt 1: A rivalry between two swordsman gets a bit out of hand when the pair decide to make a salacious bet over a duel: whoever loses must play submissive to the other, starting from the moment they drop their sword.

Necessary Criteria: “Don’t think I’ll surrender that easily.” / “Mm, I didn’t think you would…I like it so much more when you’re fiery.”

Prompt 2: A courageous knight rescues a royal from the clutches of peril, and their majesty simply can’t let their hero leave without thoroughly rewarding them for such bravery.

Necessary Criteria: The pair narrowly avoid being caught in the act.

Cursed Is The Man Who Dies, But The Evil Done By Him Survives…

Horror + Hexes

Prompt 1: Foolish explorers accidentally wander into a witch’s garden. One of them can’t resist plucking a berry from a bush, not giving it a second thought as they swallow it down, only for the horrific consequences of a curse to start taking form the next day.

Necessary Criteria: “Please…you have to tell me you know how to make this stop.”

Prompt 2: While treasure hoarding is generally frowned upon among honorable bounty hunters, some simply can’t kick the habit. This quickly proves to be a terrible mistake, though, as a cursed trinket starts to warp its owner’s mind and plunge them into a darkness that turns them on the one they love most.

Necessary Criteria: Creative use of an everyday object as a weapon.

Final Reminders:

Most importantly: Have Fun!

Make sure to read the rules carefully!

You’re always free to ask questions!

Tag me in your entry + use the tag #lucifer’s 5k fantasy challenge!

Happy Writing, everyone!

(even if you don’t plan to participate, please reblog and share this post so others will see it!)

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tarjapearce · 1 year ago

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Impostor

Warning: ANGST. Mild smudge of fluff at the end. Mentions of a character death, strained relationships.

Inspired in THIS ask. Thanks anon! ❤️✨

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x GN! Reader

Summary: Your husband died in your arms, a canon event that instantly grants you a ticket to the Spider Society. But of course, anomalies can be quite dirty players and take hold of what you adored the most.

Being a spider hero wasn't an easy feat. Balancing hero life with married life had surely taken a toll on you and your husband. As much as you wanted to be there, there was always something that needed to be done.

Of course, you were always trying to find a common ground to prevent your marriage to keep slipping away from your hands. But soon enough, you finally had digested that, despite a hero you were still a person. And as a person, you could only do so much.

And the day you feared, to lose him, your beloved husband Miguel, had arrived, like an unannounced hurricane, destroying everything in it's wake. The only victim of such destruction: your heart.

The commotion was heard from the upper roof, a shot rang through your ears, hammering it's echo on the walls. Spider senses roared alive, as every hair on your body stood, letting dread seeping in your bones.

Descending down the walls you saw a very familiar figure on the ground. Your heart beat, a tight knot constricting your throat as a passing by car illuminated the crime scene, only to reveal Miguel's face on the ground.

Please

Some of his curls had fallen off on his face. Your feet rushed to him, shaky hands turned him around, gently. A slow and almost imperceptible sigh escaping his paling lips.

Don't go...

You had begged him through the mask. The light in his eyes was escaping faster than you had anticipated, warm blood staining your clothed fingers. Your mask was removed. His eyes drifted to you and you swore he was trying to smile. As if finally understanding the reason of your ongoing absence in your marriage.

Im so sorry, I should've...

Miguel closed his eyes, and your cries were only drowned by the bustling of the living city.

-------

If you were sure of something is the fact that you could never see this Miguel straight in the eye without tears blurring your sight. Despite two years going by, and you had joined this sort of Spider Society, the once forgotten grieving only resurfaced whenever the splitting image of your deceased husband walked around, barking orders at everyone to keep the Arachnohumanoid-polymultiverse together.

Even though you both, had discussed this matter directly, you still preferred to keep yourself from him at arms lenght. Interacting only when it was necessary. It was a dynamic that although crumbly, worked for the both.

The man wasn't blind to your evident distress whenever he lingered too much around you. You did your part, and so did he. Both working in silent harmony. Together but not scrambled.

----

The anomaly alarm flared up, alerting Miguel right away. Jessica and Ben following in.

"What is it now? Vulture with a new explosive device?" Jess mumbled as she approached the screen area. She stopped upon seeing Miguel's muscles tensing as he exhaled, dreadfully.

"The reality is glitching on (Name)'s universe"

"Glitching? I thought that only happened when someone who isn't supposed to be there-"

"Exactly the problem." Miguel grumbled as Jessica beckoned herself closer to the screen Miguel was looking at.

The video image showed another version of him. A civilian one wandering the streets, with a confused and distressed look in his face.

"Isn't that-?"

"(Name)'s husband."

"Another version of you is married to them?"

"He is supposed to be dead. Why isn't he dead?"

"The anomaly suggest unusual behavior. As if the code model have been rewritten." Lyla spoke as she materialized next to Miguel's shoulder.

"Is that possible?" Jessica looked at the screen again as steps approached from afar.

"Apparently, it is. It has to-"

"Heard the alarm. What is it?" You stopped upon seeing everyone looking your way, solemnity on their faces.

"(Name)..."

"What is it?"

"There is... a glitch."

Frowning, you approached the screen, Miguel however stood in your way. Unsure if allowing you to see what the alarm was about.

Your fist clenched as tears welled up in your eyes.

"Miguel" you tried and he sighed, stepping aside. The clip was revealed to you, your Miguel stared at his surroundings, as if looking for something. Or rather someone.

"W-Why... How is this possible?" Your throat cleared up, trying to subdue the tightness in it.

"That's what we are trying to find out."

"It's just an anomaly, right?"

"Yes."

"I'll handle it."

Miguel followed you as his hands reached to you, holding you gently by the shoulders, his eyes locking on yours.

"It's my mess. I have to... I need to go, Miguel."

"We can find a better approach to this, (Name)"

"He is not supposed to live!" you snapped and Miguel's jaw clenched.

"That's why I will send someone-"

"No. I... I need this."

"(Name)..."

"I need closure." your voice a faint whisper, "I owe myself that, so don't take this chance away from me."

"The anomaly is starting to interfere with the universe, Miguel!"

Seizing the little distraction, you ran off through a portal, ignoring the angry callings from Miguel.

-----

You landed on a nearby building, and begun your search. You dodged towers, cars and trains as you swung through them, your senses tingled upon approaching an abandoned building. How the structure was still standing was a mystery to you.

You crawled up the wall and got inside through a hole on one of it's walls. You could see the anomaly. looking around, when his eyes settled on you. Your heart thumped hard as a cold sweat ran down your spine.

"(Name)!" He called in that ever loving voice you loved to hear. Landing before him you removed your mask.

"It's you..." He rushed to you and cupped your face. Your Miguel held you tightly in his arms and you couldn't help but sob.

"¿Qué pasa mi amor?" (What's wrong, my love?)

"I'm so sorry... for..."

"Shh... It's okay. I now understand why you... always ran."

"I could've been better. For us. I could've told you the truth..."

"We can start all over, again. Like a family."

Your heart broke a little more with every word that came out of his mouth.

"Miguel..."

"Aren't you excited?" His voice echoed through the building, but then he glitched.

"You are not my Miguel."

"What are you talking about? I'm right here! I am alive!"

"That's precisely the problem!" tears rolled down your cheeks as your husband, or at least whatever that had stolen his appearance, clung to you. Kissed you, and held you so lovingly you fell for it for a second.

His touch, his scent, his warmth, everything that made him your beloved partner in crime, was right before you. Offering you a new start.

"I don't want to leave you. There is so much I wanna do better, with you. Just listen to me-"

"You are supposed to be dead."

"No, I'm right here." His voice desperate, trying to convince you with his truth.

Your hands removed his from your frame and he looked at you, both fearing and pleading. The building glitched.

"You are interfering with this reality."

"I'm... Im not understanding. All I wanted to do was to see you again." He muttered gently, "And I now have that chance again!"

"Don't talk... please. "

Your husband went silent as you cried while your webs tumbled one of the pillars that held the structure.

"W-What are you doing?" Panic surged through your husband's face as another column was brought down. Dust showering his clothes

"You are not supposed to be alive." Despite your grief, you had seen what anomalies could do, and if not dealt with it soon, the whole universe could collapse. The other Miguel, your boss had shown you.

"Is it because we didn't get to celebrate our anniversary? Tell me!"

The lump on his throat rivaled with yours as you got another column down. The building shook as it's base crumbled down.

"It's because you died! In my arms! I saw you dying. I had your blood in my hands! You... You think I want to do this? If I could... I would damn this whole universe just to be once more with you."

The anomaly approached you and cupped your face. Even though his skin and touch felt warm, it felt void. Almost rehearsed.

" But I can't. I can't damn a whole universe for my selfishness." His eyes widened upon your words, you shook your head, resolution in mind.

"My husband died years ago."

"Wait" His large hands held tightly on you but he glitched once more, allowing you to escape and crawl onto a wall. Ignoring the tugs at your heart as your Miguel pleaded you to stop.

"He was shot in an alley." you shoot your web and pulled the last column down.

The building itself started to collapse within. The anomaly ran, seeking refuge as it pleaded for you to help it.

"And died in my arms." you whispered as the anomaly looked around, frantically for refuge from the crumbling structure. His feet however were webbed to the ground.

"(Name)!!" his voice called you, but you just turned on your back and left. Blue and red suit followed you, as the structure collapsed completely.

"The anomaly was contained, Miguel" Lyla announced before going quiet again.

"(Name)"

"I need to be alone."

He just watched you, as the rest of the team arrived at the scene.

-------

Miguel approached and leaned on the table with a coffee mug on hand. He offered and you took it. The warmth heating up your fingers.

"Good job."

"Hm." You just nodded and stared at your fingers.

"Thanks." you spoke after a while, "I... I needed this."

"You did what was right."

"Just did what it needed to be done. Learned that from you."

There was a weak smile on your face as he stared at you.

"You're a good leader."

"You're a good hero." He mumbled, and nodded.

"Still, I'd like to keep this... dynamic we have settled between us. After everything that has happened I still need time to adjust to... all of this."

He chuckled and nodded

"When you're ready, we'll talk."

"About what exactly?"

He shrugged and pointed at your ripped and damaged suit

"A new suit, perhaps"

"Or a new watch prototype. This one is a bit too heavy for me. Makes me slow when throwing punches"

"Might do" He gave a small reassuring smile and it made your aching heart to hurt a bit less.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 x you #atsv angst #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara angst #spiderman 2099 x reader #request #asks and replies

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r-is-typing · 1 year ago

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fears, flying, and facts | s.r

summary: in which spencer spews random facts; one helpful and one... not so helpful

request: hi, are you still taking requests? if you are, can you write something with spencer comforting the reader because she has a fear of heights?

requested by: @midnightreids

pairing: spencer reid x reader

category: fluff

content warnings: little bit of anxiety in the beginning, resolves quickly! word count: >500

"Not a fan of flying?" The voice of Spencer Reid made the girl jump, as if she wasn't shaky enough due to the ongoing turbulence. "Uh, just a bit." She tried to laugh to hide how scared she was, but who was she kidding? She was in an enclosed space, 30,000 feet in the air with a bunch of profilers.

There was no hiding her undeniable fear of flying.

"You know, it's not bad. There's less to worry about flying than there is driving." The girl looked up at him in curiosity, urging him to continue. "I mean, what we really need to worry about are microbursts - a sudden downburst of air associated with thunderstorm. But a small aircraft like this, if we hit one of those at the wrong altitude," he stops, mimicking an explosion with his fist and mouth, making Y/N tighten her seatbelt more than it already was, practically squeezing her stomach against her ribs.

"Alright, I think she gets it." Derek pats Spencer on the back, and Reid moves his eye contact from Derek to Y/N, now noticing how scared she looked.

"Oh, gosh, uh, I'm so sorry. Usually my facts don't scare you that bad." He joked. "Spence, it's okay. Usually your facts aren't about things I'm deathly afraid of." She jokes back, cracking a light smile. "Why don't you tell me something else?" Spencer lights up at this, thanking the universe he finally got a chance to spew some random fact that had been stored up in his genius brain for who knows how long.

"The praying mantis can kill and eat a multitude of creatures but the most interesting fact is that oftentimes the female mantis engages in sexual cannibalism, meaning she’ll bite off the head of her mate once copulation is complete, sometimes even during intercourse, actually."

Y/N looked at the man in disbelief. "Huh. I had no idea, that's... strangely interesting." She laughs softly. "I guess I know I can always count on you for weird facts, huh?" Spencer nodded excitedly, thankful someone actually wanted to hear him talk about the random things his brain stores.

So, that's what he did. He spent the rest of the flight from Virginia to California telling Y/N random facts to keep her distracted from her surroundings.

r is typing... thank you so much for the request! i could really only write a blurb about this certain scenario, but i'm really happy with how it turned out! r is signing off...

join the taglist here!

taglist: @elsiebishh @liltimmyst @psychosociogentleman @conniesanchor @cynbx @dreaminginpastels

#requests open #reqs open #spencer reid x reader #request #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #dr spencer reid

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thecousinsdangereux · 2 months ago

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welcome to the fandom! i don't know what fic you like but i present you this...

post canon. slow burn. lots of blood and explosions

Blinding Lights by LimitlessLtd [Ongoing] https://archiveofourown.org/works/36226996

post canon. not done reading this yet cos i'm a snail but so far it's good!

Christmas in July by Alexismobeal [Complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/36079519

late 19th century au. pining. arrange marriage?(is it arrange marriage if you buy the bride?)

What You Owe by dare121 [Complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/46783699

werewolf au!

Lonely heart, settle down. by dare121 [Complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/56415451

one shot. post canon. fluff!

every once in a while (a window is a door) by C_AND_B [Complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/36266014

one shot. kinda sad. but they're CATS!

In Another Universe… by NeverQuiteLogistical [Complete] https://archiveofourown.org/works/49274230

also check out @steinpughhawke's blog for more suggestions!

Thank you so much for such an amazing variety! I haven’t ventured too much into AUs yet because I’m still in that phase where canon is king, but I will get there shortly I’m sure. “Kind of sad but they’re cats” is killing me lol

#fic recs #anonymous #kate x yelena #mcu #bishova

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beautifulmars · 3 months ago

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Unlocking an Impact Crater’s Clues

Mars is a dynamic planet. HiRISE has witnessed many surface changes over the past ten years, including hundreds of new craters formed by ongoing impacts. Most of these impacts are likely caused by asteroids that have strayed into collision courses with Mars. The planet’s much thinner atmosphere compared to Earth makes small asteroids less likely to burn up prior to hitting the Martian surface.

This new crater, which formed explosively at the point of impact, has a diameter of roughly 8 meters (about 25 feet), but its surrounding blast zone and ejecta extend over a kilometer (about one mile) beyond the crater itself. The materials exposed nearest the crater have distinctive yellowish and lighter grey appearances, while more distant ejected materials range from dark brown to bright bluish in an enhanced-color view. These varied materials may have originated from different layers penetrated by the impact.

This new impact was discovered using the lower-resolution Context Camera (CTX), also on board Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter. An older CTX image of this region from May 2012 shows a uniformly dust-covered surface, while a newer CTX image from September 2016 reveals the crater’s dark blast zone. New craters on Mars are easiest to locate in such dust-coated terrains, where they provide opportunistic “road cuts” that allow scientists to see beneath the dust blanket and determine the underlying rock compositions and textures.

This particular crater formed about 300 kilometers (roughly 200 miles) east of the Spirit rover’s final resting spot in Gusev Crater. (Enhanced color cutout is less than 1 km across.)

ID: ESP_048456_1640 date: 27 November 2016 altitude: 259 km

NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona

#mars #nasa #science #geology #landscape #astronomy #universityofarizona

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unadulteratedsoulsweets · 2 years ago

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A DC X DP IDEA #11 The Ice Prince

Imagine dis….

The plot is always Clockwork reversing Danny’s age to a toddler’s or a child’s age to be found in the grimy alley of Gotham City, to fix a broken family, an overdue vacation, or is it because it was meant to be? But what if they found a child who is nothing more than a mere babe?

…

War has consequences whether you are on the right side or not, consequences will come up to you. Death, injury, sexual violence, hunger, disease, and disability are some of the most dangerous physical repercussions of war, while PTSD, despair, and anxiety are some of the emotional consequences.

Danny experienced all, from the physical damages he had taken to protect his citizen to the emotional as well the phycological effects that will haunt his mind throughout his immortal life.

Jack and Maddie Scientists and the GIW had done it, waging war against the Infinite realms.

Using ectoplasm, the very being that they have despised to use as weapons to aim and maim.

Humans tend to hate and fear what they don’t understand.

In this case, fear caused this war.

Unlike in the history books whose wars started due to greedy politicians or even the thrill or greed to attain new land, this war was caused by fear.

The fear of the unknown.

At 16 years of age, Danny is crowned and alongside his trusted friends as well as his former enemy Vlad Masters all gathered their things and went back to the Infinite Realms to prepare for war.

At 16 Danny witnessed the horrors as well witnessing the lines humans will cross to satisfy their greed.

Each day that Danny is planning or even fighting alongside his friends, family, and even ex-rogues for their home and the universe’s and multiverse’s balance, he would feel the pain, sorrow, and sadness of each of his citizens who were captured or even used to be the battery to be used against their people.

At 16 Danny watched his very own parents, Jack and Maddie, cut open their former best friend to better understand ghost biology all in the name of ecto- science.

Danny saw the betrayal and grief as well Vlad’s vulnerable state on how Maddie, the kind and caring Maddie whom he fell in love with, do such cruel things to innocent blobs of ghosts, do such inhumane things to him. Cutting him open like a frog in a dissection table, using large hooks to keep the two skin that were cut to show his ribcage, apart to keep them from healing.

At 16 Danny joined the war alongside Frostbite, Pandora, Dora, and many more. Even Dan and Dani had joined him on the front lines to fight their parents to fight their inventions, their creations, the agents...etc, as well as rescuing many, many ghosts who were captured before this war even started.

The first one to fall was his beloved sister Jasmine No-Name, who captured and was taken to the basement at the household of the Fenton’s. Each scientist kept drawing blood and kept poking her with needles to “cure” their daughter from any form of ectoplasm possession or mind control. Despite being liminal she was still mortal, freeing the innocent ghosts that were cruelly captured and caged by their parents destroying the lab, taking the blueprints, the weapons, and even the portal at the cost of her own life.

Brother and sister, together as friends, ready to face whatever life sends.

Next, was Sam Manson, her mentor Undergrowth and her going to the annex side of the building to create a massive distraction for the rest of their allies to destroy this particular lab as the lab that they were about to destroy is a cornerstone of the ongoing battery flow between the agents thus making this mission top priority. Blood Blossoms were involved causing great pain to both ghosts, as the agents were getting closer, they heard the explosion in the direction of the targeted lab, they were successful, and now all that is left is to retreat. But the pain as well as their inability to move is impossible and even more impossible to fight off the remaining agents who were exclaiming and shouting about the destroyed lab. With what little strength Sam had left in her, she stood up and commanded the plants to rescue Undergrowth as without him nature and flora would have died alongside him. As she saw the silhouette of her mentor/ father she made her last stand as one of the few friends of Danny now her King.

Last to fall is Tucker Foley, his best friend, leading an army made out of entirely Egyptian culture. Being the right hand of the High King as he led another attack towards their government not only did their government bury their heads in the sand, but instead of diplomacy they have chosen to continue this war. As they were fighting by each other side, Tucker noticed an agent creeping closer to his King/ friend whose head was turned and busy due to the number of agents that kept him busy and unguarded. Tucker Foley did what any friend would do in that situation; he took the bullet aimed fatally at his best friend. Danny seeing that his best friend had just turned limp released his ghostly wail that contains his anger, sadness, grief, and horror as he cradles the body of his best friend as he held his last breath in the arms of his King and friend.

We’re more than friends but less than a couple

The government was getting desperate as each day the “ghosts” kept pushing them into a corner as their numbers dwindle each second while the other side’s army kept growing each passing day.

Didn’t you know, A cornered animal is almost as dangerous as a wounded one?

A Nuke, they have created a nuke. A nuke that has the combination of Blood blossoms as good ectoplasm as fuel and weapon, that was aimed and trajected to the Infinite Realms.

But, who spoiled their plans?

Blobs of ghosts gathered at the hidden base of humans and set off the nuke at their base.

Blobs that were rescued by Princess Jasmine of the Infinite Realms.

They didn’t expect the aftermath of such a weapon.

The shockwave didn’t just end their world’s dimension but it reached the Infinite Realms almost wiping them out, it wasn’t for their King, Danny, who took the brunt of the aftermath and shock to protect the Infinite Realms where his remaining family reside.

As a result, his form and core almost crack at the mere pressure, and result, Clockwork as his last card to protect Danny from disappearing for eternity turned him into a baby whose age could be merely a month old.

Now that horrid dimension was gone, permanently, it is now up to the ancients and ex-rouges as well the rest of his family to raise Danny to the best of their abilities as he, Danny Nightgale is the bridge as well the very representation between the two worlds.

The yetis that have lived in Far Frozen went and found a perfect dimension that has ectoplasm for their young King’s ghost half and human needs for his human half.

Building a small castle made out of ice in the deepest part of the Arctic region, complete with rooms as well as things that will keep their young King’s attention in case he ever be bored.

…

Between the time they thought of settling down in the new dimension, in the DC universe, it had been thousands of years since the ascension of the High King Phantom. For those who have participated in the war it has been only a few months while in DC it has been thousands of years, to the point each magician in the JLD and Shazam knew about King Phantom, his benevolence and mercy shows no bounds. King Phantom who was a ward of the Master of Time and defeated the Pariah Dark to end his tyranny.

…

Alarms blared throughout the base of the JL and everyone was at the edge of their seats seeing that the alarm originated from the Fortress of Solitude, the base of Superman containing all the knowledge from his planet Krypton.

…

Superman alongside Batman flew to the Artic to find out who trespassed, Superman fears the knowledge of Krypton falling into the wrong hands.

As they were searching around the Fortress of Solitude, they came across a castle made entirely out of ice, Superman tried to look through it but received a headache the moment he tried to use it.

With no choice left, both Batman and Superman went inside the castle to investigate.

Passing through a large double door greeted them a large spiral-shaped staircase with the finest designs out of ice. Decorations and sculptures that decorate each nook and cranny of the castle are made out of ice that has the finest details to be mistaken as the real things. The largest chandelier hangs above them that seems to sparkle each passing second due to the little sun that bounces off each glass/ice. That creates the illusion of twinkling stars.

Hearing footsteps from afar made both Batman and Superman hide in the closet that contains the cleaning supplies, looking through the smallest of cracks, they saw ice-shaped people that have sculpted hair and eyes but no mouth or nose wearing maid and butler outfits carrying books, toys and large folded sheets of clothes.

All going in the opposite direction of which they have hidden.

After making sure that those footsteps were no longer heard both Batman and Superman got out of their hiding place and went further deep the castle to investigate further.

As they are walking along the endless hallways, they suddenly heard a small humming of a tune coming from another large double door with designs of space and stars embedded on the door.

Peeking through a cracked door there they saw two green-skinned humanoid creatures with dragon-like features looking down, cooing, and humming to something. Due to their large size, they couldn’t see what they were looking for but after a few minutes, one of the human-dragon people turned off the lights and revealed their large wings, gave a few flaps and flew out alongside their companion using the large windows made from the most beautiful stained glass as an exit.

Making the coast clear Batman was the first to go inside the room while Superman looked for the switch to turn on the lights. Through his cowl, Batman tried to guess the room that their two unexpected guests could have.

The moment Batman’s eyes adjusted due to the sudden light invading his sight they immediately flabbergasted at the room could be.

A playroom, complete with safety mats and toys that are either made from ice or silk.

Looking around there they saw at the very center, a crib made out of glaciers with a space-themed mobile that seemed to spin around above the crib while releasing, looking closer there they saw a few months old human children, if the physical appearance of the child could go by.

Black hair with the faintest of freckles across his face accompanied by his light skin that can be mistaken as dead.

Warped in the finest silks as blankets while wearing some sort of Greek clothing as a means to cover the child.

Fearing that the child was dead Batman turned to Superman to silently ask whether the child has a heartbeat or not.

Superman stated that the child has a heartbeat a bit slow for his life but a heartbeat none less.

Superman picks up the child with the resolve to return to the JL base to give the child a full check-up as well as to return him to his rightful parents.

Batman countered that the humanoid-dragon-like people could be his parents but before Superman could even counter his claim flaps of wings were heard from a distance.

In a panic, both Superman and Batman fled the room unknowingly carrying the infant.

…

At the JL base, Batman is scolding Superman for taking what could be a human-like dragon people’s child. Superman may have countered that the child he was carrying has no features from either of the possible parent and could be a kidnapped infant from the earth so that those humanoid dragons could play house.

The Green Lanterns try to look for any planet that could be the origin of those dragon people, while the rest of the League are split in siding with Superman or Batman.

With each passing second the volume of their argument kept getting higher and higher thus waking the infant still on Superman’s arm.

Blue eyes like the sky and ice greeted them as the infant yawned as of saying that they have disturbed his nap time.

Flash who was vibrating on his skin to coo at the child immediately ran up to Superman to take the infant.

But the moment Danny saw the faintest amount of electricity that was being emitted from the Flash immediately started to wail.

Loud but not loud enough to level the JL base, every JL member present with enhanced hearing covered their ears instinctively due to the noise the unbearable noise.

Batman immediately snatched the child from Superman’s arm and began calming the child.

After calming down the infant till he is only whimpering a very pale Constantine, Dr. Fate and Zattana burst into the meeting room scanning each nook and cranny till their eyes landed on the child that was still whimpering in Batman’s arms.

Constantine demanded why on earth they have a child from the Infinite Realms and began to panic.

As Constantine was out of commission for panicking Dr, Fate explained what the Infinite Realms is.

As they were about to get back the child to where the ice castle was located another alarm blared at the JL base.

Cyborg who was immediately typing across the computer for further explanation as see whether they have another world-ending threat made them double take.

A blue-skinned man whose hair is unbound by gravity and floats upwards as if it was flames accompanied by two more people.

One who looks like a vampire removing the avoidance of the sun as well adding a blue tone to his skin. Another looks like a female version of the first one aside from the green eyes and dark skin tone.

Zattana stuttering asked herself in a whispering voice why on earth King Phantom is destroying government facilities alongside the Count Masters as well the Princess of the Infinite Realms in the human world.

Each time they demolish a facility down to the dust and rubbles they began scanning the area for what?

A clapping and sound removed them from the carnage shown on the screen and saw the infant still in Batman’s arms reaching toward the people on the screen.

Constantine mumbled something and began looking at the screen and the infant, and started widening his eyes as if he had just connected the dots.

A union between a human and a ghost are unheard of but the fact that no new life/ afterlife was introduced since Pariah Dark made every life/ ghost in the Realms are now precious.

But the resemblance between King Phantom and the infant in Batman’s arms is uncanny and so Constantine reached a possible conclusion alongside Dr. Fate.

Superman just kidnapped the child of King Phantom.

…

PS: If someone out there wanting to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so don’t forget to tag me though.

#dc #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp #superman #batman #Danny Phantom #ghost king danny #vlad plasmius #clockwork

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thoughtlessarse · 6 months ago

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Cases of people with Parkinson’s disease are exploding worldwide, with a 30% increase in the Netherlands over the past 10 years, a new study based on data contributed by hundreds of doctors has shown. The research, published in the Lancet medical magazine, shows 11.8 million people now have Parkinson’s compared to 6.2 million only five years before. The number of Parkinson’s sufferers has doubled over the last 25 years and it is expected to have doubled again by 2040. In the Netherlands the number of patients has risen by 30% in the last ten years and incidences may be accelerating, Radboud teaching hospital neurologist Bas Bloem told broadcaster NOS. […] European research led by Wageningen University showed that 42% of Dutch farmland has excessive levels of nitrogen and phosphates, in addition to widespread contamination with pesticide compounds. Research is also ongoing into a higher incidence of Parkinson’s in the bulb growing areas in the Netherlands. “I am convinced Parkinson’s is a man-made disease,” Bloem said. The introduction of extremely neurotoxic pesticides such as the now banned Paraquat in the 1970s probably marked the start of what is now an explosion of cases, he said.

#netherlands #parkinson's disease #pesticide use #bulb fields #health

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codywanfirstkissbingo · 1 year ago

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Codywan First Kiss Bingo

Can't get enough of Cody and Obi-Wan's first kiss in any universe and situation? Well then we'd love to have you play our bingo!

How to Play

Fill out this form and we'll email you your shiny bingo card. Every card is a shuffled assortment of prompts that will look something like this:

Below are all the rules you should know about before you join.

General Rules

We're sure you are familiar with the rules of bingo, but just to be certain everyone is on the same page, to get a bingo you must fill five prompts in a row. That row can be vertical, horizontal, or diagonal. Fill all the prompts on your card and that's a blackout!

Get as creative with your kisses as you want but they MUST BE A FIRST KISS between Obi-Wan and Cody in some capacity.

Prompt fills should be new works, meaning that they should not be part of an ongoing work-in-progress. Sequels and prequels to already-finished works are welcome!

Posting Dates

Participants have the entire month of December to post bingo fills! Sign up around the time of this announcement and you will have a two month creation window before December 1st rolls around.

You can either post to our collection on ao3 and/or on tumblr but we do ask that you please tag us @codywanfirstkissbingo AND tag your post with #CWFKB2023 as we don’t want to miss anyone if tumblr drops the ball.

If you’re posting on AO3 but want us to reblog your fill, please make a Tumblr post with the link and make sure to @ us and tag your post with #CWFKB2023. We’ll be checking the collection when tracking fills and making round-up posts with bingos and blackouts, but we will not be cross-posting every individual fill on AO3 ourselves if the creator has not made a tumblr post.

Please include a screenshot of your bingo tag with the prompt fill indicated so we know which square you’ve filled!

Specific Rules

Fic: 100 words minimum per prompt fill. To be clear, the kiss itself does not have to last 100 words, though we'd be delighted to see that.

Art: One drawing per fill (digital or traditional). Different drawings can be on the same canvas/page if you so wish. Go wild with your compositions.

Podfic: Same requirements as fic. You can collaborate with someone writing a fic specifically for the event or find an existing fic that fills your prompt.

Fanmix: One song per fill- we'd love to see what songs give you codywan first kiss vibes. Try to match lyrics to your prompt but instrumental songs are cool too.

Other: Send an ask with your inquiry! We're more than happy to discuss expanding the fanwork pool to maximize creativity.

Ratings

You can post any work with any rating, but please abide by the appropriate rating/archive warning/tags on AO3 when posting there. When posting on tumblr, please warn for potentially triggering content in the tags and the header to the post, so readers can filter as needed. Anything spicy or explicit should go under a read-more tag, and please use a read-more tag if you’re posting a fic that is longer than a drabble (100 words) to be considerate of people’s dashboard feeds.

To help make this event a safe one for Codywan fans with any kind of photosensitivity, we do specifically request that you tag any and all flashing imagery with #flashing. If you're unsure what constitutes flashing, please see this article, or err on the side of caution for any image with: moving stripes or checkered patterns; strobe light, lightning, or explosion effects in any image or video; images of flickering light/sunlight on leaves/water; very fast cuts between images in a gif or video; rapidly moving images in an animation or gif set that stop and start or “stutter;” sparkle text or similar moving text effects; and images in an animation, gifset, or video that are in high color contrast to each other (for example, a gif set that cuts pink Barbie gifs with black & white Oppenheimer gifs to create a fast-moving contrast between the two styles.)

The CWFKB mods' decision is final on whether your post/entry requires a flashing warning; they will contact you to ask you to update your tags if you haven’t already noted in your tumblr or AO3 post that your fill contains #flashing content. If you are not willing to use the flashing tag, even after being contacted by the mods, the mods have the right to decide that under-tagged flashing fills will be disqualified from the event.

Finally– with exceptions for the NSFW or #spicy and #flashing tags on tumblr– you have the right to choose not to warn readers in accordance with AO3’s “choose not to warn” option, but posters whose tags or ratings are deceptive or misleading versus the actual content may have their fills disqualified.

When in doubt, please contact the mods! The mods will contact you about any fill where the tags and ratings raise this concern, with a request that you revise and update your tags and warnings.

Combining Prompts

This is a low stakes event and we just want people to have fun! If you want to combine prompts that's totally fine, but we ask that you give each fill its own scene within the larger work. This means there should be a separate kiss for each prompt, even if the 'scene' is a series of types of kisses all in a row.

Swapping Prompts

Nearly have a bingo but there's that one pesky prompt in your way you don't vibe with? Go ahead and swap it with another prompt on your card. As all the prompts are randomly selected and not handpicked for participants; we understand there's a chance some of the prompts may not inspire you so we allow ONE and only ONE SWAP PER CARD. Use it carefully if you need it!

Behind the Scenes

This bingo is modded by tumblr users @dontbelasagnax @lttrsfrmlnrrgby and @notthestarwar. Since we're big fans of the previous codywan bingos, we felt the drive to bring the fun back for anyone else that has missed the event as much as us!

Our adorable profile picture was drawn by @anaclastic-azurite!

You can actually find the public inception of this bingo event right here!

If you have any further questions after reading our rules, our askbox is open!

@swfandomevents

(NB: edited Oct. 9 to add "vertical.")

(NB: edited Nov. 10 to add "This means there should be a separate kiss for each prompt, even if the 'scene' is a series of types of kisses all in a row.")

#codywan #cwfkb2023 #mod post #cwfkb #commander cody #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi

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historyforfuture · 4 months ago

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❤️‍🔥300 days of ethnic cleansing and genocide❤️‍🔥

👀👀👀👀👀👀

🔴 The Government Media Office releases an update on the main statistics of the ongoing genocide perpetrated by the "Israeli" occupation in the Gaza Strip on day (300)

◻️ 300 days of genocide.

◻️ 3,457 massacres committed by the occupation army.

◻️ 49,480 martyrs and missing persons.

◻️ 10,000 missing persons.

◻️ 39,480 martyrs who reached hospitals.

◻️ 16,314 child martyrs.

◻️ 35 martyrs died from starvation.

◻️ 10,980 female martyrs.

◻️ 885 martyrs from medical teams.

◻️ 79 civil defense martyrs.

◻️ 165 journalist martyrs.

◻️ 7 mass graves established by the occupation inside hospitals.

◻️ 520 martyrs recovered from 7 mass graves inside hospitals.

◻️ 91,128 wounded and injured.

◻️ 69% of the victims are children and women.

◻️ 168 shelters targeted by the "Israeli" occupation.

◻️ 17,000 children living without one or both parents.

◻️ 3,500 children at risk of death due to malnutrition and lack of food.

◻️ 12,000 wounded needing to travel abroad for treatment.

◻️ 10,000 cancer patients facing death and needing treatment.

◻️ 3,000 patients with various illnesses needing treatment abroad.

◻️ 1,737,524 suffering from infectious diseases due to displacement.

◻️ 71,338 cases of hepatitis infections due to displacement.

◻️ Approximately 60,000 pregnant women at risk due to lack of healthcare.

◻️ 350,000 chronic patients at risk due to a lack of medication.

◻️ 5,000 detainees from Gaza during the genocide.

◻️ 310 arrests of healthcare personnel.

◻️ 36 journalists known to be detained.

◻️ 2 million displaced in the Gaza Strip.

◻️ 198 government buildings destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 117 schools and universities completely destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 332 schools and universities partially destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 107 scholars, university professors, and researchers executed by the occupation.

◻️ 610 mosques completely destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 211 mosques partially destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 3 churches targeted and destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 150,000 housing units completely destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 80,000 housing units made uninhabitable by the occupation.

◻️ 200,000 housing units partially destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 82,000 tons of explosives dropped by the occupation on the Gaza Strip.

◻️ 34 hospitals put out of service by the occupation.

◻️ 68 health centers put out of service by the occupation.

◻️ 162 health institutions targeted by the occupation.

◻️ 131 ambulances targeted by the occupation.

◻️ 206 archaeological and heritage sites destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 3,030 kilometers of electrical networks destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 34 sports facilities and gyms destroyed by the occupation.

◻️ 700 water wells destroyed and put out of service by the occupation.

◻️ $33 billion in initial direct losses from the genocide.

1 ,Aug 2024 Official website -Hamas movement

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rhamrhanch · 3 months ago

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Shepherd of Death, Don't Herd Me

Part Three: Water in the Desert

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (gender-neutral pronouns)

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort

Next Chapter // Masterlist

chapter under the cut ↓

---

The shadow of Ramattra’s cowl provided little respite from the Oasis sun.

His body was metal. It did not crisp and peel like wax under the sun's rays as the delicate skin of humans did. Still, he did not enjoy the heat. The radiating warmth forced his body to work twice as hard to maintain its temperature, and he was slightly more sluggish for it.

Ducking into a shaded alleyway, he pulled up a map of the area on his HUD. He was on his way to a rendezvous with Talon concerning the retrieval of his drowned ship. Enough time had passed since his attack on Gothenburg—he was eager to return to his work.

A loud blast suddenly shook the ground, dust falling from the brick walls of the alley. The map disappeared from his vision as he looked up. A plume of smoke billowed against the blue tarp of the sky, only a short distance from where he stood.

Curiosity drove him forward more than anything. As he walked closer to the scene of the explosion, a crowd of people began flooding into the alleyway. He felt something bump against him. It was a male human, young-looking. The momentum from the collision sent the boy flying, landing on his back on the ground.

"Hey! Watch where you're…" he trailed off, eyes slowly traveling up until they met the glowing red dots of the Ravager's face plate. Ramattra did not acknowledge his fear, his head turned in the direction of the smoke.

"Where did that come from?"

The young man's voice shook. "T-The un-university."

Ramattra nodded once, and the boy scrambled to his feet, his hurried footsteps echoing behind him. He began to walk against the sea of fleeing humans, who parted around him like water. It used to bother him, the way humans scurried out of his way wherever he went, but he had since grown to appreciate the convenience of it.

Soon, he found himself standing before the arching entrance of the university, its grandeur dampened by the debris littering the ground. Inside, it was as if time had frozen. Desks were left in a hurry, some with coffee cups still steaming. Whatever happened here was quite recent, possibly still ongoing.

A distant popping caught his attention. No matter how deep he smothered it, his programming would always recognize that sound—the sound of a firefight.

Ramattra walked briskly toward it, down a long corridor that led him to the central atrium of the university. There was a massive hole blown in the wall, through which he could see Talon troopers roaming, their guns raised. He slipped into the room next to the square, careful not to make any noise. Technically, Talon was his ally, but he felt no strong urge to help them right now. Their foot soldiers were woefully inept, and he was not in the mood for babysitting.

The sound of footsteps echoed behind him. He whirled around, his cowl flaring out behind him as he aimed his staff at the doorway, only to freeze just as quickly.

You had abandoned your mechanic's coveralls for an Overwatch uniform and your back was turned, but he recognized your profile instantly.

Holding his hand out, he prepared to raise his shield, waited for you to turn around—but you didn't. You continued walking backwards up the stairs until you passed the doorway, which you swiftly ducked behind. Your gun was raised in the direction you had just come from, blissfully unaware of the omnic standing a meter behind you.

Should he… say something? Alert you to the fact that you were not as alone as you thought?

He was still perplexed by how to proceed when you began speaking into your earpiece.

"No Talon presence detected at point B, standing by for backup."

Ramattra could not hear the reply, but there seemed to be a bit of a back and forth. It made you curse.

"Shit. Okay, I'll go by myself."

He watched you haphazardly look around, yet somehow still not behind you. How were you this clueless? No wonder you were an engineer and not a fighter.

Suddenly, a smattering of red-orange spots lit up his vision—his infrared sensors. Talon soldiers were approaching the atrium. You couldn't see them from your position, your view of the entrance blocked by the staircase. You straightened up, preparing to walk through the doorway.

He moved without thinking, hooking his staff around your waist and yanking you toward him, out of sight. Your mouth opened as if to yell, and he clamped his hand down over it, muffling what he assumed was a slew of curses. Your elbow reared back, preparing to hit him. Quickly, he slid his staff into the crook of his arm as his newly freed hand restrained you against him, pinning your arms to your sides. It was mostly for your own sake—elbowing his chest would hurt you a lot more than it would him and was ultimately useless.

You bucked fiercely against his hold, boots scuffing loudly on the ground as you tried to free yourself. At this point, Talon would catch the both of you if you continued in this manner.

"Quiet, or they will hear you!" he hissed. Your head jerked up at him, eyes wide in recognition.

---

This was truly not your day.

As soon as Overwatch received a tip that Talon planned to infiltrate the university in Oasis, you all but begged Winston to go. You were desperate to make up for your blunder a month ago, when you had groggily woken up to the sight of your coworkers standing over you, the leader of Null Sector nowhere to be seen.

Before you could explain yourself, give some meager excuse as to how Overwatch's most important prisoner had escaped, you were whisked away to the med bay by Mercy for treatment. As you recovered from your near asphyxiation, you feared what would happen next. Would Winston fire you? Would you be accused of conspiring with Ramattra and left to fend for yourself once again?

You couldn't do it. You would rather die than be found by Talon, a fate that was guaranteed without Overwatch's protection. For a whole day, you laid in bed, dreading the moment Winston would walk in and order you to pack your bags.

And eventually, he did come to you. But instead of the harsh reprimand you expected, he only apologized profusely—for putting you in danger, for not doing more to guarantee your safety.

The guilt in his voice had somehow felt worse than if he had just given you a fierce tongue-lashing.

Because you knew the truth. Everyone reassured you that it wasn't your fault—but it was. You could have stopped him. You had a gun, had even shot someone before. If you wanted to, you could have incapacitated him long enough to call for help. He was the leader of Null Sector—there should have been no doubt in your mind to pull the trigger.

But even as Ramattra held your throat in his hand, squeezing the life out of you, you hesitated.

Your hands were tied after that, having already made the promise to repair him. By that point, you were too invested in the process of it, the eagerness to work on an R-7000, that you forgot the mortal peril you were in. Getting sucked in to your work was always a bad habit of yours.

Only his reminder of the bounty on your head snapped you out of it, and by that point, it was too late. Even in his weakened state, he was fast, much faster than you. Your only way to defend yourself gone, you were left to his mercy.

You were determined not to make the same mistake again. And so your need to prove your usefulness had led you here, separated from your team and hiding from the Talon soldiers that swarmed the building.

This was meant to be a relatively casual mission, which was why you volunteered for it. All you had to do was secretly guard the university and ensure no Talon forces infiltrated the library. Easy enough; you weren't an exceptionally skilled fighter like Genji or Tracer, but you were scrappy enough that you could hold your own against one or two opponents.

Everything had gone smoothly until Talon caught wind of Overwatch's plan, all manner of subtlety then thrown out the window after they blew a damn hole in the building. In the ensuing fight, you were split from the rest of your team, but you still had a job to do. Under no circumstances could Talon be allowed to breach the library.

You hugged the wall, gun raised. Slowly approaching the wide arch of the entrance to the garden, you saw two Talon soldiers standing on the opposite side. Quickly, you ducked behind a hedge, weapon held close to your chest. Not hearing anything, you cautiously peeked over it again. They were posted in front of a door that stretched to the ceiling—the entrance to the atrium, which housed the only door to the library.

You needed to get past them somehow.

You reached down and silently picked up one of the stones lining the hedge. With as much speed as you could manage, you whipped your arm toward the opposite side of the garden. The stone landed in the bushes, rustling the leaves there. One of the guards perked up at the noise, leaving their post to investigate. Perfect. You weren't particularly worried about dealing with them if it came down to it—Talon soldiers weren't notorious for their fighting skills—but a one-on-one would be quieter.

Slowly, you slinked towards the left side of the garden until you reached the balcony. There was a staircase there that led to the atrium entrance. Once up the stairs, you crouched down and peered past the wall. The soldier still standing at the door seemed not to have noticed anything. It wouldn't be possible to get through to the atrium without him seeing you, and you couldn't fire your gun without risking the attention of the other.

You supposed that left you with only one option.

Your boots pounded against the tile as you sprinted toward him. The sound seemed to startle him, and he hastily raised his gun in panic. Before he could pull the trigger, your hand swung out, pistol-whipping his chin. His head recoiled to the side harshly as he collapsed to the ground, out cold.

Quickly, you sneaked into the atrium. There was no way the other grunt didn't hear that—you needed to find cover, fast. You flattened your back against the wall, pointing your gun at the doorway. Luckily, there was only empty air.

You backed away tentatively, walking further into the atrium. The back of your heel bumped against something, and you nearly toppled over, rebalancing with less grace than you wanted. You peeked backwards out of the corner of your eye; there was a short staircase leading into another room. Carefully putting one foot behind the other, you treaded carefully up the stairs until you were past the doorway.

Making as little noise as possible, you dove behind the wall, pistol clicking as you pointed it at… nothing. You exhaled heavily; you were safe, for now.

"No Talon presence detected at point B, standing by for backup," you said quietly into your comm. There was a long pause before it pinged in your ear again, gunshots ringing out from the other end.

"More Talon agents have arrived at our location." Genji's voice was hurried, and you heard the clash of steel. "Winston is handling them right now." Almost on cue, a loud roar and crash sounded behind him.

"Can you make it to my position?"

"No, there are too many here." He swore sharply, the gunfire now louder than before. "You said there is no Talon presence where you are?"

"Yes, that's right."

Genji made a sort of annoyed sound. Its robotic timbre reverberated in your ear. "Ah, it's no good then. You're the closest out of all of us."

"Shit." Your head spun rapidly as you tried to think. As long as Talon's reinforcements were confined to the entrance, you should be relatively safe to move. Yes, you could do this. "Okay, I'll go by myself."

The comm clicked off, and you steeled yourself briefly before moving to stand up. But just as your knees straightened, something pulled on your waist with what felt like the force of a freight train. Your back slammed against a rigid surface, knocking the wind out of you.

Damn it, not again. How did this keep happening to you?

A metal hand clamped down on your mouth. Instinctively, you thrashed against it, but your captor restrained you, rendering you immobile with the sturdy weight of their arm. Rising panic made you jerk wildly, doing anything you could in a desperate attempt to free yourself. You were kicking out in a frenzy when a harsh voice cut through the air.

"Quiet, or they will hear you!"

What?

Your head snapped up, eyes forced to squint at the familiar red glow glaring down at you. Before you could even begin to process what you were seeing, the sound of boots against tile reached your ear. You froze, instinctively crushing yourself against Ramattra's chest. The metal ribs of his armor dug into your back, but you hardly noticed as your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

The steps echoed louder, approaching closer and closer to the staircase. You were breathing rapidly—it felt like air was running away from you, but you couldn't stop.

His arm was an iron bar against your abdomen, and you tried to focus your thoughts on the pressure. A soft current of air brushed against the back of your neck—the quiet whir of his internal fans, a calming song that thrummed throughout your body.

After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps finally retreated.

Ramattra's arm relaxed, his hand sliding across your stomach. The touch made you shudder—no, no, now was not the time for this.

Swinging your legs forward, you kicked behind you with all your might. Your feet landed square on target, the omnic grunting as his knee buckled, releasing you to slam his staff against the ground. You whipped around to face him, cocking your gun with one hand. As he rose, so did the barrel, trained on his chest right where you knew his central processor sat.

His face plate was expressionless, but he seemed less angry and more annoyed, as if the gun pointed at his chest was no more than a mere inconvenience.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

"What am I doing? What the hell do you think you're doing?" you scoffed.

"I—" He stopped himself, fist clenching around his staff. He seemed to have no answer.

You stared at each other in a standoff, neither daring to break eye contact. A thousand questions ran through your mind.

Why was he here? Was Null Sector preparing an attack on Oasis? Was he working with Talon?

There were so many words clamoring against your skull that it paralyzed you into not speaking at all. After a full minute of silence, one question finally managed to slip past your lips.

"Why did you help me?"

That was what puzzled you most of all. Back in your workshop, he had spared your life despite your attempt to pull a gun on him. Now, he seemingly appeared out of thin air to save you from Talon soldiers? What was his game here?

"Believe me, it was not my intention," he replied snidely.

That… didn't make any sense. "Answer the question," you demanded, more forcefully this time.

"It matters little what I say. My answer will not satisfy you."

Another deflection. You were growing tired of this.

Ramattra's gaze followed you as you walked forward, all the image of a hitman that had met their mark. He didn't move, didn't even flinch when the barrel of your gun tapped against the center of his chest.

"Is that all you have to say?" you asked.

There was only the hum of his internal machinery, a sound you had grown to recognize. Even with your gun pointed directly at him, he was silent.

You let your hand fall with a sigh. You weren't going to get the answers you wanted this way. But he remained still, making no move to leave as his face plate stared down at you.

"Fine, then. I only have one thing to say to you."

You slipped your other hand out of your pocket, placing it on his chest. It was warm against your palm, warmer than you expected from a body made of metal. His chest rose slightly in reflex, as though taking in a breath. Everything about him was so alive—the sounds his machinery made as they moved inside him, the oscillating temperature of his chassis as it burned against your skin. The guilt coiled in your stomach sank even deeper.

"Thank you," you murmured, "and I'm sorry for this."

The Ravager tilted his head at you in silent question. But you only pulled away, a circular emitter left where your hand once was. He reacted lightning fast, his hand surging up to grasp it—but it never got there, halted in place as it started to twitch uncontrollably. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a scratchy, glitchy mess as he fell to his knees, his hands spasming against the ground, grasping nothing.

The sight was almost enough to make you forget what you were doing this for. Before you lost your nerve, you clicked the comm in your ear. Your hesitance may have gotten the better of you last time, but it was not going to happen again. He knew your name, face, and affiliation—letting him go was no longer an option.

"It's me. Talon has breached point B and is headed towards point C, requesting immediate assistance at my location."

#overwatch 2 #overwatch #ramattra #ramattra x reader #ramattra x you #fanfic #reader insert #rhamrhanch

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mysticstronomy · 1 year ago

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WHY IS THE SPEED OF LIGHT CONSTANT??

Blog#303

Wednesday, June 7th, 2023

Welcome back,

The speed of light in a vacuum is 299,792,458 metres per second, a figure scientists finally agreed on in 1975 – but why settle on that figure? And why does it matter?

Answering those questions takes us on an amazing journey through space, time, physics and measurement, and the tale hasn't quite been told yet. Modern-day studies are calling into question the speed of light for the first time in centuries.

To start at the start though, some history: at the beginning of the 17th century, the general consensus was that light didn't have a speed, that it just appeared instantaneously, either present or not.

During the 1600s this idea was seriously challenged. First, by Dutch scientist Isaac Beeckman in 1629, who set up a series of mirrors around a gunpowder explosions to see if observers noticed any difference in the when the flashes of light appeared.

Unfortunately for Beeckman and the progress of science, the results were inconclusive, but then in 1676 Danish astronomer Ole Rømer noticed strange variations in the eclipse times of one of Jupiter's moons over the course of a year.

Could this be because light took a longer time to travel from Jupiter when Earth was further away? Rømer thought so, and his rough calculations put the speed of light at about 220,000 kilometres per second – not a bad estimate at all, especially considering the data he would have had on planet sizes wasn't all that accurate.

Further experiments with beams of light on our own planet edged scientists closer to the right number, and then in the mid-1800s physicist James Clerk Maxwell introduced his Maxwell's equations – ways of measuring electric and magnetic fields in a vacuum.

Maxwell's equations fixed the electric and magnetic properties of empty space, and after noting that the speed of a massless electromagnetic radiation wave was very close to the supposed speed of light, Maxwell suggested they might match exactly.

It turns out Maxwell was right, and for the first time we could measure the speed of light based on other constants in the Universe.

At the same time, Maxwell's work strongly suggested that light was itself an electromagnetic wave, and after this idea was confirmed, it got picked up by Albert Einstein in 1905 as part of his theory of special relativity.

Today the speed of light, or c as it's commonly known, is considered the cornerstone of special relativity – unlike space and time, the speed of light is constant, independent of the observer.

What's more, this constant underpins much of what we understand about the Universe. It matches the speed of a gravitational wave, and yes, it's the same c that's in the famous equation E=mc2.

We don't just have the word of Maxwell and Einstein for what the speed of light is, though. Scientists have measured it by bouncing lasers back from objects and watching the way gravity acts on planets, and all these experiments come up with the same figure.

However, the story doesn't quite end there, thanks to quantum theory, that branch of physics hinting that the Universe might not be quite as constant as we think.

Quantum field theory says that a vacuum is never really empty: it's filled with elementary particles, rapidly popping in and out of existence. These particles create electromagnetic ripples along the way, the hypothesis goes, and could potentially cause variations in the speed of light.

Studies into these ideas are ongoing, and we don't know for sure one way or the other yet. For now, the speed of light remains the same as it has for centuries, constant and fixed.

Originally published on sciencealert-com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, June 10th, 2023)

"WHAT WAS BEFORE THE BIG BANG??"

#astronomy #outer space #alternate universe #astrophysics #spacecraft #universe #white universe #space #parallel universe #astrophotography

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cf8wrk4u-us · 27 days ago

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Across Space and Prime Chapter 3: Masters, Students, and New Guests (Part One)

Sentinel was silent as he laid next to Optimus, but to be fair the other prime couldn’t blame him.

They were currently sharing a berth, the new bots from earlier were kind enough to provide them a habsuite. Stating that it had belonged to a friend of theirs named Cliffjumper, Optimus took notice of how Sentinel had seemed to perk up at that name but said nothing.

Though to be fair his attitude had been rather subdued after learning about Cybertron.

“-unfortunately, Cybertron no longer exist"

There was a moment of silence, the other bots coming off more somber. But it was finally broken when Sentinel finally found his voice.

“What are you talking about”? Demanded Sentinel “You can’t be serious! I’ll-I’ll have you know lying to an Elite Guard officer is a serious offense! High Command could have you taken to the stockades for that kind of fear mongering-”

“Are you an idiot”?

It was the blue cycle femme who had spoken, her eyes narrowed and servos clenched, she wasn’t the only one as most of the mechs there were giving Sentinel scowling looks.

“Why would anyone lie about that”?! She asked “That our planet was destroyed”.

“I don’t know any of you”! Sentinel said defensively “You could claim your Autobots but how can we know?! Where’s your proof-”?!!

Ratchet abruptly moved and went over to one of the monitors.

“Ratchet…” the other Optimus said softly, he was the only one who didn’t look visibly angry. His face and eyes were more grieved than anything.

But the medic ignored him, that is till an image appeared on the screen.

“Proof? Here’s your proof”

Sentinel and Blackarachnia gasp were the only clues Optimus had before he fully faced the screen ahead. And what he saw left him near purging.

He hadn’t seen his home planet for so long, but his recolations was a beautiful silvery orb with veins of vibrant blue and gold that shone a healthy luster across the planet's surface.

But that wasn’t the case for this.

Instead the planet before them was a gray husk just hanging in the vast darkness of space. What was once a healthy thriving and healthy planet now looked like a dead corpse, completely deprived of light.

“No”.

Optimus looked to see Sentinel look at the planet with wide eyes and a gaped mouth.

“This-this isn’t happening” he said before bringing both servos to each side of his face “This can’t be happening…”

“Happening”? Ratchet repeated with a scoff “It already happened”

“Ratchet” the older him said more firmly. The medic flinched at his tone but didn't falter, continuing to give his group a contemptuous look.

“I apologize” said the large Prime “I would have liked to introduce this knowledge to you all in a more…tactful way” then with a solen look he gestured to the projection if the ruined planet “As stated before, while you may have won your war with the Decepticons, ours is still ongoing and in consequence the devastation of our battles have made the planet uninhabitable, ravaged by centuries of civil war”

“But you're going to fix it right”? Sentinel said almost desperately “Now that you stopped Megatron you're going to get some scientist to fix our planet, right”?

This earned another huff from Ratchet “We just beaten Megatron and barely have the resources and bots who could accomplish such a goal, we don’t even have a ship” the medic shook his head “There is little certainty now if we can or if ever return Cybertron into a functional planet again”

Sentinel acted like the medic had just struck him as he wobbled at the words spoken to him, but that didn’t last long as he turned to face Blackarachnia with a vicious glare.

“YOU”! He said pointing a finger at the femme “This is all your fault”!

“Me”? Questioned Blackarachnia before giving a bitter laugh “I’m not the one to ask you cranium damaged mechs to follow me into that explosion”!

“I wasn’t trying too”! Sentinel snapped “In ether case you better get us back to our correct universe or so help me I’ll-”

“You’ll what”? The spider femme asked, flashing her fanged denta.

Sentinel growled and made to move forward but Optimus stopped him

“Sentinel, please calm yourself”!

The Elite Guard member didn’t fight his hold and even went limp, whispering “We can’t stay here, we can’t…”

Then the voice of his altered version spoke.

“I believe we’ve all had a long day, perhaps we could all do with sometime to recharge and process todays events” the leader than turned to his subordinates “Would any of you be willing to show our guest to a spare set of quarters they could rest in”

The blue cycle femme eyes widen as she stated “But the only available place is…Cliffjumpers”

There was a heavy silence in the air before the Optimus of this world spoke again.

“Would it be too difficult for you Arcee”?

His voice still had that powerful lull but had a softness to it.

For a second the femme face looked grieved before hardening as she squared her shoulders.

“No, its fine” she then turned to the group to shoot them a glare “Follow me”.

Optimus and Sentinel had taken the nare spare room with its too large berth, it was concerning how there was no charge station but having enough energy and Sentinel not making any complaint they didn't ask for any accommodations. Blackarachnia wouldn’t have lodging with them though so reluctantly all bots let her stay in the hallway. With the new Autobots, especially the one known as Arcee, warning her against leaving or trying to mess with their equipment.

“Oh please, and upset such gracious hosts”! the techno-organic said sickly sweetly

Optimus really hoped that she wouldn’t try anything, their situation was bad enough. Making these bots, who are battle ready and very much familiar with warfare, angry seems like a very bad idea.

With that thought all of the days events came crashing into the Prime, being apparently taken to a new dimension, meeting other versions of himself and his team, and learning about Cybertron.

The Prime tank threatened to purge at the thought of the version of his destroyed planet.

He had seen old holo-videos of the first war, seen the devastation done to the planet, but in the end the Autobots won and all cities and monuments were slowly rebuilt. That's how their war ended.

But seeing the image of this worlds Cybertron, seeing it destroyed and empty, what could have happened to their planet….what could still happen to his planet…it made him sick.

If Megatron, his Megatron, succeeded in invading Cybertron once more. Sending both their factions into the fires of war. Could that be the fate of their Cybertron?

Optimus viciously clutched the edge of the berth.

He had to get back to his own universe! Back to his team! He needed to be there with them to stand against the Decepticons! No matter what!

With that burst of determination, Optimus allowed himself to lull into recharge.

Optimus and Sentinel were awakened the next day by a loud knock to the door.

Surprisingly it was Sentinel who rushed off the berth and approached the entrance, noticeably stopping to adjust his armor.

On the other side was the mech named Bulkhead “Hey, did you all rest well”?

Sentinel gave him a curt nod before walking past him “As well as can be expected”

Optimus followed close behind “Thank you again for taking the time to accommodate us”

Bulkhead only nodded.

The pair traveled together till they reached the main room, Optimus saw Blackarachnia was already there. Seemingly lounging against the far wall, far from the monitors where the bot calling himself Ratchet stood giving them all a curt nod.

“So you boys are finally awake”? She asked, her tone light but in contrast with the sharp smile that she wore.

Sentinel grunted turning away from her but Optimus answered back politely “Well I suppose…and yourself”?

He added that last part with the hopes of starting a cordial conversation, though Blackarachnia still rolled her four red optics.

“I think I have slept better if I didn’t have someone watching every little move I made” nodding her head to Arcee. The lith blue femme watching them from the corridor of the room.

“I think she has something against spiders” Blackarachnia said, moving a servo to the side of her hamlet “Or in the very least against techno-organic freaks like me”

“Please don’t say that-” Optimus started only to be interrupted by Bulkheads loud announcement.

“Alright newbies, gather around”!

Optimus was the first to approach, Sentinel waited several clicks before giving an exasperated sigh and moving forward. Blackarachnia silently stayed where she was. Optimus couldn’t help but flush at his former classmates' uncooperativeness.

“Alright, listen up, all of you, there are some rules I want to go over” ” Bulkhead said with a slight sigh “First off, none of you are leaving the base without authorized permission from Optimus-” he stumped looking at the red and blue prime “I-I-that is too say-I mean-I mean our Optimus”

“Of course” said the similarly named Prime, behind him he heard Sentinel snicker.

Coughing Bulkhead continued “Okay, moving on, none of you are to use our equipment without supervision from someone on our team”

“This is all important equipment! Essential for our everyday use and most importantly detecting Energon signatures and Decepticon activity” stated Ratchet.

“Mess with any of it, than your giving us the best evidence your bot the kind of bots who could be trusted” Arcee added, marching closer. Her sharper eyes passing over all of them before focusing on Blackarachnia.

A whirl of buzzing sounded off, it came from Bumblebee who padded energetically towards the group.

<Don’t forget to talk to them about the others>! He beeped

“Was just getting to that Bee” said Arcee

Others?

“Hey, can someone tell me what this bot is saying”? Said Sentinel, irritation edging his voice “Not all of us can understand that noise he's making”

A silence fell over the group at the blue and orange Primes statement, before three sets of optics narrowed in barely suppressed anger with Optimus could feel his own annoyance spiking. While he understood that Sentinel may have a harder time deciphering the binary code Bumblebee was using, his classmate barely passing that portion of technical training at the Autobot Academy and only every able to use the code to message “Broken-Lance” ( a message only Optimus could ever understand), he was really putting his pede in his mouth with making such an insensitive comment.

“Huh, you can’t understand basic binary code” this worlds Ratchet said, his voice not loud but laced with malice “And you tell me your an Elite Guard member”?

“Of course I am”! Sentinel said in an offended tone.

“Pity to them then” Arcee apathetically

“Hey! Whats that supposed to mean-”! Said Sentinel nearly lunging towards the femme but Optimus was quick to place a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Sentinel” he hissed in warning “Remember, they're housing us”!

The other Prime growled and shrugged him off, but luckily stayed still and quiet.

“Moving on” Bulkhead gritted out “Its not just our team occupying this base, were in contact with this planets government and they've been nice enough to throw us some help and leads to Cons sightings our way…for the most part”

“Optimus, Our Optimus, policy is that while on this planet and working with its people we need to make it a priority to try and protect them from our conflict with the Decepticons” said Ratchet “And if you were to venture out of the base, under supervision of course! You are to up here to the same-”

“Of course” Optimus found himself saying immediately.

“-while also upholding the responsibility of keeping your presence, as well as our existence, hidden from the local lifeforms”

Now that last statement took Optimus systems for a loop.

“What”?

“While on this planet we Autobots must live as robots in disguise” rumbled a voice behind them.

Optimus and his group whirled around to see the other version of himself walk into the room. Again the other Optimus couldn’t help but admire his alternate selves form, just the way he walked was so dignified and sophisticated. The contrast made by the light scratches of battle did not diminish that image of him.

A seasoned warrior and a confident leader.

Everything he has yet to achieve.

“Wait so you expect us to stay hidden in front of those organics”?! Sentinel exclaimed “Whats even the point? If we were fighting Decepticons, shouldn’t that take priority than trying to hide ourselves away? In fact limiting our presence could put us at a disadvantage-”

“What be disadvantage would be announcing our presence to every Decepticon on the plane” gritted out Arcee “Keeping a low profile is what keeps the Cons off every time were out, keeps our base secure, and keeps us from making any unnecessary casualties out of the humans”

“Well this is war isn’t it? Casualties are bound to happen, especially with little organics”

The hard stares thrown Sentinels' way now turned deadly.

Bulkhead gave an audible growl “The kind of words you expect from someone who's never fought in a war”

“Hey”! Sentinel challenged, squaring up to the larger bot “I’ve been in plenty of battles! And smashed the processors of plenty of Con scum”!

“Optimus Prime, sir”! Optimus aid out loud with a salute, ignoring the doltish way it felt to address himself so formally “Rest assured I will make sure me and my companions follow your instructions to the fullest”!

His other self arched a brow before giving a small satisfied nod “I appreciate if you would, and in return my people will do all we can to support your endeavor in returning…to your own universe”

Optimus had mixed feelings about the hesitance there.

“Good helm on his shoulders” mumbled Ratchet “Obvious he's a version of Optimus”

The Prime felt his face plate heat up at the statement.

“Look, one last thing, whatever you’re feelings on humans are, you need to set them aside” said Arcee “We live on their planet, we work with their government, and ultimately there is no escaping theme, got it”?

The last part was directed to Sentinel who simply crossed his arms giving a strained smile “Fine, but don’t expect me to like it”

The blue femme then turned to Blackarachnia “You're oddly quiet, do you think you’ll have any trouble following any of our rules”?

“Sweetie, if I had a problem with any of this I wouldn’t be shy about it” the spider-techno organic said nonchalantly.

Arcee seethed silently at her blase response but seemed to cool before saying “And going back on the topic of humans, there’s one last thing we didn't mention yet”

“What's that”? Asked Optimus

“Oh” he said later as he saw the first human swing their leg off Arcee vehicle mode.

The Prime Team, or that's what he’s beginning to call his counter-selves group, did explain how they picked up some human civilians who they accidentally got in contact with. They made assurances that their group would be solely responsible for them. With his alternate version adding for their guest to please be mindful of these humans, both of their age and of their stature.

Basically attaching a “Watch Your Pedes” rule.

Something Optimus was used to given his experience with Detroit's citizens and his time housing Sari after her fathers disappearance. And given the increased height of this universe's bots it made sense that they engaged in this practice.

He didn’t think Blackarachnia would have a problem following this rule, mostly due to her pure disinterest in humans but also due to her light figure and small pedes. Sentinel of course could pose a problem, but Optimus felt assured that in the end he probably stay far away from the humans.

“OMG”!

Far, Far, Away.

The loud squealing came from a young human girl, older than Sari as she launched herself from out of Bulkheads vehicle mode, an armored SUV instead of an assault truck, and launched forward towards the group at surprising speeds with her brightly colored pedes and her words.

“So It Is True! You guys found a bunch of new bots! THATS EPIC”!!! The girl went on, moving up and down excitedly “So who are you guys? How did you get here? What's your story”?!

Optimus felt a smile form at the humans frenzied questions, it all felt reminiscent of when his team first encountered Sari. He moved his optics over to the other humans; both male it seemed. One was the tallest of the group, with dull coverings that made up his wardrobe and dark organic hair that swiped across the top of his faceplate. The next one looked as small as Sari was, dressed in warmer colored clothes and wearing optic enhancers that meant this human might not have the strongest eye sight hence the need for the objects. Finally their own hair was a light brown that spiked up on top of their own helm.

The pair gave Optimus and his group shy smiles and waves, the pair the Prime returned with his own smile.

It seems though he was the only one though as side-eyeing his companions, Blackarachnia had her arms crossed and red optics narrowed at the humans while Sentinel was visibly cringing as the female human approached closer and closer.

So deciding to help his former classmate, or as the humans call it, “throw him a bone” Optimus croached gently in front of the young humans.

“Hello there, thank you for welcoming us into your base” he started “My friends and I are very new here, so it be a welcome if you could help us navigate our way through your world”

The children's eyes immediately sparkled with excitement and the girl's attention was now on him “Of course! We can show you around! I’m Miko by the way, and these two are Jack and Raf” she said waving to her companions “Though Jaspers is kind of a snooze fest…but hey we can take you to other places! How fast is your car-mode? How many seat-”

“Actually they probably need some altmodes” Bulkhead said coming up behind the humans, and was it just Optimus or did his voice have a bit of an edge to it?

Acree looked sternly at them “I say we hold off on that, I don’t think any of us can spare time at the moment or at least for today”

“Actually” Sentinel surprisingly said “I’ve already scanned some typical earth vehicle for myself”

This got a wide eyed stare from everyone that made the blue and orange Prime chest plates puff up proudly.

“Really”? Arcee asked in honest astonishment “When did you even manage to do that”?

“Well as you might not know” said Sentinel swaggering towards the fem bot “An Elite Guard member is always prepared…maybe I can teach you all a thing or too“

The amazed look on Arcee face then hardened again “Right, if you say so”

<I knew you guys had vehicle modes back at the cave, I just didn’t know they were earth styled> inquired Bumblebee

“It was pretty dark in the cave, didn’t have a chance to see what wheels you carried” said Bulkhead “Wanna show us”?

“Yes! Please”! The girl named Miko begged

Feeling all eyes on him now Optimus sighed before beginning his transformation, it took little effort at this point and in the end he was now seemingly an ordinary vehicle before them.

“Whoa, another truck! Awesome”! Exclaimed Miko

“He kind of reminds me of a fire engine” remarked Jack

“Just no trailer” added Raf

“I can equip ones when available” Optimus added before turning back

Sentinel than stepped forward “Alright, take a look at his one”

The other Prime then did his own seamless transformation into his altmode. But by the make of it most of the new autobots and the humans looked confused by his former classmates chose in vehicle.

“Is that a…snowplow”? Asked Raf

“Well at least its a truck” Miko said with the same amount of enthusiasm

“I’m not sure if it's the best vehicle to go incognito in” said Jack “I mean a snow-plow around Jasper? That be kind of suspicious-”

Sentinel quickly transformed back, an angry expression “Well how would you know”? He demanded.

“Um, cause I live here” Jackson responded but was obviously nervous as he took a step back from the mad robot.

Arcee took a protective step towards the human so Optimus took this as his chance to grab Sentinel by the arm and pulling it back “Easy Sentinel”

The female bot looked between them and the kids before exhaling.

“Alright guys, let's get started on your projects” she said to the children “Or did you not need our help”

“Ah! But I wanna keep hanging out with the new guys”! Whined Miko but stopped as if a thought occurred to her.

“What are you names by the way”?

Optimus knew this conversation would come up but still didn’t look forward to it “Well, the mech besides me is called Sentinel”

“Sentinel Prime”! His former classmate emphasized pointedly.

“Yes, and the other is named ahem-Blackarachnia” Optimus had stalled for a moment, unsure if he should have addressed the fem-bot by her former name or her new Decepticon name to the children.

The femme in question actually reacted to that statement by giving the humans a sharp tooth smile, the boys flinched but Miko only grinned and whispered “Wicked”~

The Prime knew they were expecting his answer and tried to word it out the best he could “And I, well…I’m called Optimus”

“Prime” reminded Sentinel

All three of the humans looked open mouthed at him now making Optimus shift uncomfortably.

“Your name is Optimus…Prime”? Asked Jack “Like our Optimus”?

“Uh”

“Thats a coincidence” said Raf

“Well, you see-”

“Jeez, your parents must have been fans” remarked Miko with a laugh.

“I don’t have organic guardians like humans have” Optimus said weakly

“Not a strange thing if your from another world” said Bulkhead

“WHAT”???!!! Screamed the humans

Bumblebee shoulders slumped <Really Bulkhead?>

“Smooth” said Arcee

Then after a short explanation it looked like the children had even more questions for them, especially Miko.

“But how can you be Optimus”? Asked Miko “Your so…small”

Sentinel and Blackarachnia actually laughed behind him as Optimus pressed his lips.

“Look, this situation is a mystery to us too” said Arcee “But as of now we proceed as we would normally, Decepticons are still out there and you all still have a science project, right”?

The humans reluctantly agreed and soon enough supplies of miscellaneous items were pulled from Bumblebee and Bulkheads subspaces.

“Maybe, I should change my topic” Miko remarked carrying a paint can “Interdimesional travel sounds way cooler”

“Too late now” said Jack, rolling an actual motorcycle pass the floor.

With the Prime group gone, Optimus and his companions were left on their own.

“Really, they’re going to hang out with a bunch of organics instead of going after those Cons or help us find a way back to our own universe” huffed Sentinel

“They already said they don’t have the supplies Sentinel” said Optimus “Just give it time”

“Of course your on their side” said the Prime

“Aw, poor Sentinel” said Blackarachnia mockingly “No one caring about your poor feelings”!

“Hey! I have ever right to be worried about getting home”! Snapped the blue and orange Prime before spinning to Optimus and hissing “In case you forgot, Ultra Magnus is in critical condition and Cybertron is without any kind of leader as Decepticon troops are pushing against our borders”! After that he stomped off.

Optimus felt a pang of guilt inside him, he looked to Blackarachnia who didn’t bother to meet his gaze. The other Prime then decide to go after his friend.

Surprisingly when he found Sentinel he was crouching by a corridor.

“What are you-” Optimus tried to ask only to be hushed by the other Prime

So reluctantly Optimus crouched down to see what Sentinel was looking at. In the other room he saw the other Ratchet and his other-self, he had wondered where they had left after giving the children a polite greetings.

"Optimus, why so glum”? Ratchet was asking "This planet, all planets are finally free from Megatron's tyranny”

"I do not disagree, old friend," the other Optimus said, closing his optics for a split second, "it's just… a small part of me hoped to change Megatron's mind, not extinguish his spark”

The other Prime couldn’t believe what he heard. Change Megatron's mind? The leader of the Decepticons? As much as he admired his other-selves image he couldn’t help but criticize how naive he sounded. The Megatron from his world fought him to the death every other day and sent his lackeys to do the same with his team. He had slaughtered millions of Autobots and raised colonies to add to his own empire.

This worlds Megatron sounded no different.

Yet his other-self thought the tyrant could be reasoned with?

“Geez, Optimus” said Sentinel “Never took you for a Decepticon sympathizer”

“I’m not”! Optimus defended.

"Optimus, his vileness was not slain by your hand but by his own twisted arrogance”! Ratchet exclaimed.

"Hmm," the Prime grunted

"I'm sorry," Ratchet said after a second of silence "I know the two of you had quite a history”

History?

Optimus wondered what kind of history could his alternate self could have possible have with the Slagmaker to be so regrettable about Megatron's demise.

"Its alright” the mech finally said “The Megatron whom I once fought beside perished eons ago, the day he chose to become a Decepticon” he continued "And while the Decepticons may be in disarray, they aren't without leadership” that Optimus turned around and looked at the medic "And while Starscream is no Megatron, he is far from predictable”

Finally something Optimus can agree, Starscream was a dangerous foe. And despite Megatron being a major threat to him and his team, Starscream was his own flavor of danger. Especially given how he nearly killed Optimus when his team attempted to defend the Allspark and save the hostages or how he nearly offlined Ultra Magnus.

Suddenly they all heard an explosion within the base.

"Decepticons! We're under attack!" Ratchet shouted rushing over, Optimus and Sentinel were falling over themselves to scramble back but it was clear on how they crowded the hall they had been nearby.

“What are you two doing”?! demanded Ratchet after he almost fell over Sentinel.

“Um, well…” Sentinel stuttered

“Oh for the love of Primus”! Ratchet cursed before pushing by them.

Sentinel and his fellow Prime could only stand awkwardly as the other Optimus politely passed them by with an arched brow.

The four Autobots went to where the explosion came from but saw no Decepticons, only Raf and Bumblebee working on what looked like a miniature volcano.

"It's no attack, Ratchet," Raf said,obviously hearing the shouts made by the medic "It's my volcano" the boy added when suddenly it dissolved a little, "Or was…"

"Hold still, Bulkhead," Miko said, Optimus saw the mech holding a display of miniature planet's of earths solar system laid out on the ground with several paint can nearby "Jupiter needs its red spot”

The girl with a brush in hand made a stroke against her model of Jupiter, jumping back as some dropped on the ground "Whoopsie”!

"What... in the Allspark is going on here”? Ratchet asked.

"Our projects are due tomorrow," Jack replied from below as he and Arcee worked on the motorcycle that they had brought in.

"Maybe it needs one of these doohickeys," Arcee suggested handing a part to the human

"You're a motorcycle, Arcee," Jack said, "Shouldn't you know how to build a motorcycle engine”?

"You're a human, Jack, can you build a small intestine”? The femme countered.

Optimus was in the opinion that was a hilarious statement. He noticed Blackarachnia was by the far hallway. Keeping an admit distance from the humans and the Primes Team.

"Well, you can't work on these projects here," Ratchet objected "You're...making a mess”!

"But the science fair's a big part of our grade," Raf pipped up.

"Yeah," Miko agreed, "If Bulkhead doesn't help me finish this model of our solar system-"

"Oh”? Ratchet interrupted "And what does Bulkhead know of your solar system, or Bumblebee of your volcanos or…"

"Arcee of our motorcycles”? Jack asked the medic.

"Precisely”! The medic agreed "we're not earthlings and they're not scientists”

"But they are their guardians, Ratchet," the other Prime said "Would it not hurt to learn more of Earth by helping our young friends with their schoolwork”?

Sentinel gave an irritated huff as he quietly whispered “They wouldn’t have too if we prioritized finding a way off this mud rock”

"Well, maybe our young friends should try learning more of Cybertron” muttered Ratchet.

Optimus made an amused chuckle before approaching the smallest human Raf and Bumblebee who was trying and failing to reform their volcano.

“This is an interesting project” said Optimus, kneeling to be closer to the boy.

“My favorite kind” said Raf “It’s a little old school but its still really cool! The teachers said

“Did your human teacher give you this assignment or did your Tutor-Bot”? asked Optimus

This made Raf snort in laughter “Tutor Bot”?!

Optimus felt his face heat up but gave his own awkward laugh “So human teacher then”?

<Most here are> said Bumblebee

“That's right” commented Raf.

The Prime felt silly forgetting that in this different universe the humans technology was even less advanced than the humans from Detroit 2101. And that was saying something!

That's when Optimus realized something “Raf…you can understand what hes saying”

The boy gave a bashful look as he rubbed the back of his helm “Yeah, its basically like a code right”

“That's very impressive”! Optimus praised “It took me a few cyberweeks in the academy to figure it out”

<If I may ask> said Bumblebee <How long were you in the academy>?

Optimus faltered “Um, 3 stellar cycles” he finally said “I-I didn’t really finish my education but was still granted the title of Prime”

Ratchet looked at him suddenly, as did many of the other bots “You were granted…”?

“Ha! More like he flunked out”! Sentinel chortled, Optimus turned to see him standing nearby “Never made it to graduation and the only work he could get was as some maintenance bot despite getting the title of Prime, unlike yours truly” he finished off with a confident tilt of his head

Optimus didn’t stop a hateful glare at Sentinel, he had hoped that the mech would try to remain civil to the other bots and to him. But it seemed he was falling back on his “sparkling” personality, either on account of the stress of the situation or his frustration of the unclear way they were going to get back home.

Or a combination of both.

“Oh, and you made it through on good grades and big ideas”? said Blackarachnia from her darkened corner, her comment made Sentinel flinch.

“Why don’t you stay out of this”!

Blackarachnia narrowed her optics, meeting Sentinels stare.

Optimus could only look on as not only The Prime team watched this silent clash but the humans looked as well.

“Jeez, and I come here to get away from highschool drama” he heard Miko mumble while Bulkhead hushed her.

<Nothing wrong with not finishing academy> Bumblebee buzzed <I never finished my training, the war progressed pretty fast and we needed more soldiers so I was drafted early as a scout instead of waiting to be in warrior class>

“I see” Optimus commented, he was a bit amazed realizing how young this version of Bumblebee was still.

This Bumblebee was about his age, but was years above him in training and obvious experience. Yet he was still a scout?

"Really Bumblebee? Then how do you make warrior class”? Raf spoke up “But I've seen you in action, you're awesome”!

Bumblebee then buzzed in his thanks.

The larger version of Optimus spoke up as he placed a hand on the yellow mechs shoulder, "I second your opinion, Raf” he said “But Autobot life cycles are much longer than those of humans and though it may be are you believe, our young scout still has much to experience” the larger mech than turned his head slightly to look at Optimus and his companions “And that could be something extended to many of us here”

Comically Sentinel and Blackarachnia both shared dubious stares.

Suddenly the main computer started blaring an alarm.

"Exposed energon, and it's on the move”! Ratchet said, making Optimus tense at his urgency.

"And since we ain't moving it, guess who must be" Bulkhead added

"Decepticons,” Arcee said, optics narrowing.

"Without Megatron?" Miko asked.

"Unfortunately, Megatron's legacy will live on as others rise to take his place” said the other Optimus “Autobots, you have projects to complete, Ratchet, with me as I may require aid”

Ratchet looks at Raf's volcano, "Science fair is a big part of their grade. Perhaps I'm better suited to remain here and advise”

"Very well," Optimus said, and looked towards his scout, "Bumblebee, let us see about this energon in transit."

“Wait, what”? Optimus voiced for once.

Everyone turned to look at him “Do you have objections to our actions” said his other self. His voice wasn’t accusing or even offended, just curious. Which almost made Optimus feel bad about speaking out but he had to state his opinion.

“You're only bringing yourself and a scout to confront the Decepticons, especially when one of them is Starscream”? He asked “Are, are you sure thats…plausible”?

He flinched at the incredulous expressions and the almost betrayed whirl that came from Bumblebee.

But still it felt almost…ridiculous…to leave half his soldiers to assist in human children's school work while only bringing himself and one mech, even if it wasn’t Bumblebee.

“What? So you're volunteering to go with him”? Asked Arcee

Before Optimus could speak up, Sentinel instead beat him to it.

“Why of course! Why shouldn’t we”?!!

“Don’t you remember our agreement” the femme asked “Its been less than a solar-cycle, we still need to make sure your trustworthy enough to be trusted outside the base”

“Your still going on about us being, Decepticons”! Sentinel said flabbergasted “Were not…except one of us”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re keeping an eye on your Insecticon too” Arcee said dismissively/

Insecticon?

Optimus couldn’t help but wonder at that word, but stopped his musing to take the time to speak up.

“Again, I’m not trying to undermine your decision, I simply ask if you're really confident to only bring yourself and a scout against what could be an army of Decepticons and led by Starscream of all mechs”? Optimus kept his voice even, respectful, but all so questioning. Silently urging them to please consider thinking of bringing some of the others.

“Huh” He heard Bulkhead chuckle “Listen little guy, Optimus and I mean OUR Optimus has been kicking Con tail-plate long before any of us” he said “So I think he knows what he's doing”

The Prime couldn’t help feel his faceplates warm up to being called “Little guy”, mercy was that Sentinel didn’t see that as an invitation to jump into the jibbing.

“Our visitor has a valid point” said the other version of him, the bigger version, with an admonishing tone in his voice that made Optimus guiltily satisfied before he looked at him “And while I understand your concern, I promise you I don’t take decisions lightly with our enemies…more so with our allies” he continued “Me and Bumblebee will be leaving through the groundbridge, and if there’s any danger we will call upon back-up support”

“Without us” grumbled Sentinel

“Yes! The new guys get to hang around longer! Miko said, throwing her hands up in victory, sending paint flying. Optimus felt his former friend shudder beside him..

With everything seemingly resolved, the rest of the team stepped aside with the children as Ratchet went over to the computer to set up this “ground bridge”. Optimus, who had much experience with Space-Bridges could recognize the technology set up but also how much of it was integrated with human technology. Guess the mechs from this world weren't kidding that they had very little technology to spar from their resources.

In either case while Optimus was familiar with Space-Bridge technology, groundbridge technology still was such a strange and new concept. The large-scale act of Space-Bridging, which allowed you to travel across space and galaxies, was somehow able to be condensed into only one planet travel.

It was fascinating and he was sure Bulkhead, His Bulkhead, would have enjoyed this…or even Blackarachnia?

He looked to the femme who was unconsciously toeing towards the control panel, maybe attempting to get a better look. Though she shied away when Ratchet turned to glare at her.

Soon enough the machine whirled to life creating a blue shimmering light.

“Be careful” Ratchet said, a tender look shrouding him.

“Will do, old friend” said Optimus while Bumblebee let out his own well wishes.

The pair transformed into their vehicle modes, with the other Optimus transforming into a hulking large truck with a massive trailer firmly attached behind him. Great…something else Optimus can feel self-conscious about.

The pair left through the gate and the light faded with just a press by Ratchet.

“So you met actual dinosaurs”! Asked Raf, who had been busy pasting on paper to his project.

Optimus chuckled “Well not actual dinosaurs, but like you, the father of my friend created replicas of the creatures from the cretaceous period in order to educate others” he explained “Only using advanced robotics instead of…” he looked to the pale slime in a bowl by the human.

“Paper-mache” answered Raf

“Maybe your friend's father had the right idea” said Ratchet “Obviously this material isn't suitable for the high powered explosion you want, but this-” the medic held up some scrap metal and transformed his hand to reveal a sparking welder “-should do just nicely”!

The almost manic grin on the medic's face made Optimus blink in surprise, never would have expected such a look from his own Ratchet.

“Eh, should we be worried”? He heard Bulkhead mumble.

Optimus looked at the others, he guessed that this attitude caught them off guard as well.

But that is when Optimus noticed something, that being the absence of both of his companions. One may not have raised much suspicion, given they may have opted to keep some distance from the humans and group of bots.

But both Sentinel and Blackarachnia, gone? Together?

That spelled trouble.

So Optimus quietly stepped away as Ratchet huffed over the other children's projects. He hoped to find them down the hall or near their assigned quarters…but no.

Optimus could feel his spark race in anxiety, finally going towards the part if the base with the mist consoles he heard the familiar lull of machinery from the Groundbridge.

The Prime speed over only to see Blackarachnia behind the controls with a mean smile and Sentinel transforming and driving into the vortex

“NO”! Optimus yelled, but Sentinel didn't hear or didn't care.

Or both.

“Where did you send him”?! Optimus demanded

Blackarachnia shrugged “Just where they dropped that alpha version of you and that squeaky scout”

She laughed as Optimus growled “Relax, soldier boy should be in good hands”

The mech didn't dignify her with an answer and simply transformed, driving into the portal.

The last image was of Blackarachnia giving him a flirty kiss goodbye.

#transformers #transformers prime #transformers animated #optimus prime #sentinel prime #blackarachnia #arcee #ratchet #bumblebee #bulkhead #starscream #skyquake #agent fowler

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