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#Ski will sell these to the highest bidders
hyperray · 2 years
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This was revealed to me in a dream
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downbadf0rficppl · 4 months
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i didn't mean to love you so much
Poe Dameron x F!Reader
Summary: You don't know what you have until it's gone. Or is it?
Word Count: 6.0K
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It took 3 days to arrive on D'Qar.
The Naboo N-1 Starfighter that you stole from the junkyard on Bracca was one wrong move away from falling out of the sky. Even with your constant mid-flight repairs, only prayers to the Maker were keeping her together. The BB unit you found kept you posted with constant, and frankly worrying, updates on how the ship was holding. Let's just say the plane was soon to be out of use.
When you entered the atmosphere in D'Qar, the landing gear erupted into flames, eliciting a series of explicit beeps from the BB unit. If not for the life-or-death in front of you, you would have burst into a fit of giggles.
Instead, you just grit your teeth: "Happy beeps, bud."
You and the BB unit left the carnage that used to be a starfighter flaming in the trees, bickering the whole time, and heading towards the Resistance Base. Towards new beginnings. Towards freedom.
Bracca was a junkyard, where scavengers and smugglers looked for parts to sell to the highest bidder. It was dark and dangerous at the best of times, and work was never-ending. It wasn't the kind of place you would want to grow up, but it was better than Kessel. Anything was better than Kessel.
It took a week to get to the Rebel base. Your head throbbed painfully with each passing day, with hardly any food in your system and little water to quench your thirst, the journey to salvation seemed almost unattainable. You had thanked the Maker for rain when it first came, but after 4 days of non-stop rain, you had cursed the skies for it. It only seemed to fall harder.
By day 5, the BB unit was running out of power, its movements slower than before. It was far too heavy for you to carry and without it, you would never reach the Resistance base. There were no sarcastic quips or complaints for its master anymore. No, the two of you traveled in silence, aside from the odd groan from either one of you. Its tiredness mimicked your own. You could only pray that the base would come into view soon. You weren't sure how much longer you would last.
When the planes came into view, you almost cried with joy. With newfound energy, you and the BB unit near-ran the way to the tarmac runway that signaled life on this dratted planet.
And while the BB unit was welcomed with cheers and open arms, you weren't so lucky.
You were marched to the medical bay by two men almost twice your size, flanked on the left and the right so you couldn't run if you tried. Your heartbeat in your throat. Of course, the resistance had to be careful, but surely this was excessive.
After you received treatment for your assortment of cuts and burns, you were delivered to a small room, adorned with only a bed and curtains to block out the light. Before you could say anything, let alone protest, the doors shut, leaving you alone in a small cell deep in the heart of the Resistance base.
As terrifying as the whole situation was, when you laid your head to rest on the bed in the dingy room, sleep came. It beat thorns and nettles on the forest floor of D'Qar. It beat sitting upright for 3 days, trying to avoid meteors and Tie Fighters. It beat restless nights on Bracca, hoping to gather enough for a meal. Sleep came to you better than it ever had before, and you reveled in it.
You woke up to familiar beeping outside the large metal door.
"BB-3?" Your voice came out as a hoarse whisper. The beeping got louder, almost unbearably loud, "Calm down, bud. I don't know how to open the door."
"Step back." A male voice came from behind the door, startling you. You stumbled backward, falling on the floor as the whooshed open. A tall man stood there, and if he were surprised you were on the floor, he didn't show it.
You scrambled to your feet, brushing the dust off your clothes as BB-3 rolled in, circling around you like a vulture would his prey. The man stood there observing you and the droid got reacquainted, before clearing his throat.
"Vice Admiral Holdo would like to speak with you." His tone was authoritative. You didn't want to be on his bad side. He led you toward an office on the opposite side of the building, your legs shaking as you walked. He shot you a pitying glance as BB-3 followed at your heels, before returning his face to its emotionless expression. You hated it.
It must have been early, as only a few people were up, and those who were seemed to want to rather be asleep. But no one batted an eye your way, despite the grime you still felt clinging to your face, and the ripped clothes you were wearing. You wondered if this was normal to them. People coming home grimy, hurt, and disgusting.
Only one man seemed to notice you on your journey.
"Snap!" A voice called out to you. The man in front of you - presumably Snap - broke into a huge grin. "Long time, no see, buddy!" Snap clapped the other man on the back, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
You stood there as the other man regaled the story of whatever mission he'd been on to Snap, and for a moment, you thought you were forgotten.
Until he turned. His eyes seemed to scorch your soul with their searching gaze. It was heavy, but you felt safe under it. Almost as if you knew that he would do nothing to hurt you.
"Heard all about how this one came in yesterday." He stretched out his hand, "Captain Poe Dameron. Pleasure to meet you."
You shook his hand and returned the favour, telling you his name. He tested it on his tongue, repeating a few times. Once he seemed satisfied, Poe turned back to Snap.
"How come you got stuck on babysitting duty?" He asked, mirth dancing in his eyes. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes or butt in - you wanted these people to like you. Sarcasm could be saved for later.
"Kid brought back my droid."
"BB-8 told me the story. Something about running from a resistance fighter, blowing up a depot train," you kick BB-3 gently, "and exploding an N-1. It was impossible. Maybe you should get your droid checked for gossiping?" Snap punched him in the arm, "Hey, it was just a suggestion." Poe grinned widely, "Oh, and the shootout. How could I forget the shootout?"
"It wasn't a shootout." You slapped your hand to your mouth. You hadn't meant to say that out loud. So much for saving the sarcasm for later.
Poe turns to look at you. "Oh?" his grin infuriatingly wide. "That's not what the droid said."
"It wasn't a shootout, we were shot at." Your confidence floods back into you. "And the depot train wasn't us. Wrong place, wrong time. Am I right, bud?" You glare down at the BB-unit.
He mumbles something about ruining a good story before whirring off to stop behind Snap. Stupid BB-unit.
"Guess you're more interesting than I gave you credit for kid." Snap stepped towards you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. "The name's Temmin, Temmin Wexley. But everyone calls me Snap."
"Pleasure to meet you Snap," you echo Poe's words from earlier.
Your meeting with the Vice Admiral went well. She believed your story, well corroborated by both BB-3 and the bounty on your head placed by a well-meaning neighbour. She cleared you to start training with the resistance, though you surprised both her and Snap when you asked to be a mechanic.
Though when you started working on ships, it was clear to see why. It was almost like there was a secret language that ships spoke that only you seemed to understand. You scoffed at that. Beginner's luck you called it. Still, there was no denying that you loved working on the ships and that you were good at it too.
Months went by and you settled into the routines of the Resistance. You were given a room closer to the other mechanics, who, despite the constant tension of competition, seemed to like you well enough. You often sat with them for meals, although passing up on opportunities to spend more time with them. They seemed content with that. You got used to the early morning wake-up calls when the sun streamed through the window and urgent repairs needed to be made. You learned to enjoy the quiet evenings when everyone else had closed up shop and you could finetune repairs for those who needed it. You finally felt like you had a purpose. It was freeing.
Snap kept you up-to-date on the comings and goings of the First Order - never in much detail of course, but enough to satiate your desire to know more. In return you smuggled him extra jogan fruitcake when it was served while he was away. Sometimes, in thanks for saving your life, you made extra updates and repairs to his X-Wing when he came back from long missions - more often than not to save his those extra hours of tedious work.
Black Squadron had come home after a week long mission the night before. You had worked late into the night the day before, and you were now regretting it. Blue squadron had come into contact with a few Tie Fighters on night patrol, and the damage was hair-pullingly extensive. You were in for a long day. It didn't help that you could barely keep your eyes open, hands glued to a cup of Caf that was doing little for the tiredness clouding your brain. You didn't even notice Snap come storming in.
"WHO WORKED ON MY SHIP LAST NIGHT?" He yelled over all the mechanics. Shit.
You had done some basic repairs for him the evening before last and had spent the better part of last night finishing up repairs and repainting his ship. You knew how pilots were with ship paint. Maker, you were screwed.
After a few moments of silence, you decided it was better to own up than let everyone suffer. "I did, Wexley."
He slowly turned towards you, before grabbing you and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting your feet off the ground. You were shocked. He was happy - no, elated. The rest of the mechanics, equally as confused as you, turned back to their work, ignoring the scene in front of them.
He still had you gripped tightly when Poe walked in. "Easy tiger, you'll kill the greenie. What did she do to deserve your wrath?"
"My wrath?! No, no, no, Poe. This kid is my new favorite person on base."
"I'll try not to take offense to that," Poe grumbled jokingly, "What did she do to deserve such high praise then?"
"Have you seen my ship? She's beautiful, more beautiful than Jess that one time." He started, about to regale a story, you did not need to know. You elbowed him hard in the ribs.
"My sentiment exactly," Poe said to you, giving you a fist bump before walking over to Snap's X-Wing, closely followed by Snap himself. You trailed behind them, still unsure of what was going on. Poe dragged his finger across the paintwork, "He has a point though. I've never seen Snap's X-Wing look this good." Poe turned towards you, his warm brown eyes sparkling with pride. "Good job, Greenie."
You smiled gently, before turning away. It was high praise from Captain Poe Dameron, flyboy of the resistance.
"Maybe I'll snap her up, you know, give her a real ship to work on?" Poe said, his flirting tone making an odd double entendre that made your face light up in flames.
"Not a chance. Kid, you're my new mechanic. Officially."
"What if I don't want to be?" You countered, your sarcastic tone making both Snap and Poe burst into laughter.
You accepted the role though. There was no world in which you didn't. You enjoyed the perks of being Snap's favored Mechanic - you could sleep in more often, you were privy to more information than the average mechanic. He would tell you if he was to leave the base soon, you were often told just how bad a situation was. Snap trusted you. And if Snap did, so did the others.
'The others' being the other pilots on Black Squadron: Jessika Pava, Karé Kun, L'ulo L'ampar. And of course, Poe Dameron. It was almost like you couldn't escape him. His infectious laugh, his boyish grin, his boisterous personality. His ability to make even the most mundane task into a story for the ages.
No wonder he was so popular.
You began to sit with them in the cantina and you frequently ended up leading the repairs on Black Squadron, no one else being as trusted as you. You opened up to them slowly, telling them about growing up on Kessel and being brought to the Scrapper’s guild on Kessel. You told them the truth about your escape - Poe ended up on the floor laughing, saying “the real story’s so much better, BB-3”. They found out about your impeccable aim after a fun night in the cantina that ended in a tense game of holodarts. They became your family - more of a family you had ever had in your life.
And while, you saw Snap, L’ulo and Karé as your brothers, you could not say the same for Poe. Poe was a flirt, everyone knew that. But as you got closer and closer, it was harder to ignore the way you're heart sped up when he looked at you. How you're palms grew clammy when he smiled in your direction. How his praises and compliments made your knees weak. God you were in love with him.
You knew that half the women on the base had either slept with him or wanted to, and yet not one of them got even a second of his time. None of them except you. Poe would walk you to your room in the evening, and to the cantina in the morning, regaling stories of his adventures before he knew you. He’d bring you caf when you were working late, and sit under the stars with you at the end of a long day. He’d tell you stories of Yavin 4 and his mother. He showed you the ring that hung on the end of his necklace. 
“I want to give it to the one, you know?”
“Don’t get all sentimental on me, Captain.”
He groaned, “Don’t rank me.” You just smiled.
“So, no lucky lady in your life, Dameron?”
“No lucky man in yours, greenie?” 
You scoffed, “If there was ever a chance, they’ve all been scared away by you.”
“Good.”
You laughed it off, but inside your guts twisted at the idea that Poe was happy you were single. Your insides warmed at the idea that he might just feel the same. 
The next morning, you walked out of your room to the sight of Poe sneaking out of the room opposite yours. Half-naked. His eyes widened at the sight of you, and your hand quickly hid your eyes from the view. Your heart dropped. He lied to you. 
Poe sought you out later on in the day. He came up behind you on the landing deck, with a cool glass of jogan juice in hand. You had stripped out of your mechanics jumsuit, the arms tied loosely around your waist. Your tank top was almost a shade darker with the sweat of exertion and ridiculous heat. And yet you declined it, your face barely concealing your childlike annoyance. You knew it was stupid. You and Poe were barely friends, let alone anything that would justify your anger.
“I’m sorry.” Poe huffed, still standing underneath you in the beating sunshine. You were surprised: Poe Dameron never apologises.
“For what?” You said, your back still facing him. He sighed - he didn’t like it when anyone was annoyed at him. Least of all you.
“For this morning.”
“Why does it matter, Poe? You can sleep with who you want to.” You said, anger colouring your voice.
“It matters,” he yells, “because it upset you. Because, for whatever reason, the idea of me sleeping with other people, made you mad at me.”
His obliviousness tugged at your heartstrings, as if to say ‘he doesn’t feel the same’.“I’m not mad that you’re sleeping with other people.”
“Then why are you ignoring me?”
“Because you lied to me, Poe.” You say, dropping down from the ladder, sweat dripping down your back. 
“What are you talking about?”
“You said there was no one special in your life.”
“There isn’t.” You raise a brow, before grabbing the glass of jogan juice from his hand. “Just because we had fun for a night, doesn’t mean I’m getting down on one knee.”
“I think you’ve done it enough times for that to be proven, Poe.”
His cheeky smile returned, “Glad we’re back on first name terms.”
You shook your head at him, “For the record, if I ever catch you sneaking out of a room in my wing again, I’ll skin you myself.”
“If you catch me you say? Well, I like myself a challenge.” You slap him on the head, before climbing back up the ladder.
“Leave me alone, Poe. I don’t need your love troubles plaguing my every hour.”
“There’s no place for things like love in the middle of a war, greenie. First thing you learn in a place like this.”
If he hadn’t been walking away, he would have heard your heart burst into a thousand tiny pieces. Maybe it was for the best if you didn't love him.
Instead of wallowing in undeserving heartache like an idiot, you forced yourself to forget all about the way Poe made your heart feel. He became just another friend, pushed so far into the friendzone that was no conceivable way out. To his credit, you didn’t hear of another escapade of his again. He probably just got good at hiding them.
That always got difficult when he was sent on week-long missions. Your heart would migrate into your throat and even swallowing became difficult. Your mind would swim with worry, all for him to come back completely fine, his ship always seemed to come home the least scathed. A fact for which your heart was grateful.
"Hey, flyboy," you called, as you walked into the cantina. There were less than 10 people in the whole room - probably due to the ungodly hour of the day.
Poe was sat in the corner, the light of his datapad shining on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was unusually disheveled, which could only mean one thing. He was nervous.
You walked up to him. Evidently, he hadn't heard you from across the room, because when you came up to him and rested your hand on his shoulder, he flinched and grabbed your hand. You winced at his tight grip as he turned to face you.
Poe released your hand when he saw it was you. He leaned back into your chest, eyes fluttering shut. "I'm sorry," he whispered, gently.
You grabbed the datapad from his hands, and placed it face down on the table, "It's ok. What's going on?"
"Nothing. Don't worry about it."
You absent-mindedly run your hands through his hair as his head remained leaned against your chest. "It's not nothing. Is it a mission? You're leaving again soon?"
He hummed in agreement.
"You're leaving today, aren't you? That's why you're up early."
"Why do you think Snap got you to wake up early? You're not just a sight for sore eyes, you know."
His words made you blush. Never have you been more glad that he isn't staring right at you - it would give your heart’s deepest darkest desires away. 
He left that afternoon. After you completed routine checks for him, he was off on a top-secret adventure. Sometimes, it was easy to hate his rank, because it made it so hard to find out where he was, or what he was doing. But as always, you let him go and, as always, you prayed he'd come home safe. To you. You always pray he comes home safe to you.
Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks. And while it wasn't unheard of for Poe to be gone this long, your heart could barely take him being gone for a day. That's the price of being in love. You'd never thought of yourself as still being in love with Poe until he left on that mission. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still raced when he talked to you. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still ached when he left for missions. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still burst when he smiled at you. But without him there, it's like your heart could not find a reason for beating. 
You continued on with your job, trudging through daily repairs and meals, trying to keep your mind away from Poe. You forced a smile when you talked to Snap - missing Poe hit him just as hard as it hit you. You forced a smile when you taught new recruits - you couldn't afford to have them hate you just because the Captain was missing. You forced a smile when you came down for dinner - there was no use in moping around in the middle of a war. But when you were in the comfort of your own room, you let the smile fall and the tears drip down your face. You cried almost every night for the first week that he was gone, trying to reconcile your newly found feelings and your newly lost friend.
It was a surprise to everyone when Poe crash-landed back on D'Qar with burns and cuts littering his body. You were up at an extremely early hour as working on Snap's ship when he landed, and you were immediately filled with concern. A tight knot wound its way around your throat, as you watched the scene unfold. BB-8 was nowhere to be seen. The ship is smoking dangerously, and parts of it are falling off, but most worrying of all, Poe was struggling to get out of the cockpit. You quickly threw yourself onto the X-Wing, hitting the emergency ejection latch with the spanner in your hand. The cockpit lid flew open and Poe climbed out, coughing heavily and clutching his side.  Snap came running out of the base, and grabbed Poe's arm. You ran up and grabbed the other, and the two of you dragged him towards the med wing. 
Two nurses snapped him up, cleaning his wounds and applying bacta spray where necessary. Snap turned away, mumbling something about an early morning briefing, but you stayed rooted to the spot. You couldn't take your eyes off his broken state, and tears slipped out of your eyes before you could control them. After a beat, you spun around on your heel and sprinted to your room. 
When the door clanged shut, you slumped onto the floor and burst into tears. You couldn't bear to see Poe in pain. You hated yourself for not being strong enough to fight through your tears to be with him. And you hated yourself for still being in love with him, when you promised you would be. When your datapad lit up with tasks for the day, you made the rash decision to call in sick. In the time you had been on the base, you had never called in sick. This job was your lifeline, your passion, and nothing, not even illness, would affect that. At least, that's what you had thought. You spent the majority of the week in that same spot, tears subsiding when you became so dehydrated that your body refused to let you cry.
On the fifth day of your hibernation, you finally left your room, having showered and gotten ready. Few people were on the base, apart from the mechanics and medics, and the injured - which included Poe. Given the lack of a real threat in the vicinity, General Leia had given the day off. You didn’t want to relax. You couldn’t relax.
You snuck over to where Poe’s beat up X-Wing was parked, and the sight of it almost made you tear up. The memories hit you like a brick. Poe barely limping towards the med wing. BB-8 being carried to the droid repair room. Fire extinguishers coating the X-Wing with hopes that it may be able to fly again. You got to work.
You were finally satisfied as the sun set over the vast treescape of D'Qar, covered head to toe in oil and grease. After some gentle coaxing by Paige - the only one aware of your all-consuming feelings for Poe - you agreed to grab something small to eat with her.
What you didn't sign up for was to see a broken and battered Poe sitting at the table, laughing at some stupid joke that Snap had probably made. He looked up as you walked in, almost as if he was expecting you. His eyes met yours, and you felt the tight knot in your throat begin to form again - just as it had the morning Poe crash-landed on the base.
Poe tried to lift his arm up to wave but winced at the action, the stitches keeping his wounds bound together stretching at the extreme action. You pressed your lips into a tight smile, willing the Maker to take your tears away. Paige handed you a bottle of water, before leading you toward the table. She left you standing in front of the table, where you awkwardly shifted your feet.
"Gonna sit down?" Snap asked, mirth dancing behind his eyes, "Or are you planning to put on a show? Wouldn't put it past you to have hidden another talent."
You smiled weakly, sitting down next to Jess and unscrewing the cap on the water bottle you had been given. Jess leaned over and whispered gently, "Feeling ok? Paige came up to ask if you were ok when you didn't show up at drills this morning."
"Yeah, felt a bit under the weather after morning rounds."
"Probably the shitty sleep you've been getting worrying about this guy." Karé said, pointing his knife at Poe.
Poe looked at you, his eyes wide, but you tried to brush off Karé's words, sarcastically replying, "Oh please Karé, the only thing you're worried about is whether or not they have that drink that you like from Sorgan, which is disgusting by the way - I don't know how you can drink it."
Everyone laughs as Karé splutters about how delicious spotchka is, the anxiousness wracking your body easing its reins slightly. Under the table, you feel Poe's foot nudge yours gently. You smile lightly at him, careful not to let him have a good look at your red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face. As much as it shouldn't matter, you don't want him to know how much you care.
"You don't have to pretend you don't care for the captain, kid. You should have seen how she leaped to open the hatch Poe, something from a Naboo holodrama. Or one of those superhero films." Snap laughed, as your face burned red.
Poe raised his eyebrow, "Now that's something I would like to see. Maybe I'll get myself stuck in a cockpit again, just to see you in action." He laughs, but you don't laugh with him. You feel your chest tighten, and the knot in your throat return. Your vision clouds with tears, and you quickly got up, excusing yourself on the notion that your headache has returned, and that you should probably get some rest before drills the next day. You stumbled out of the cantina, breaking into a sprint as soon as you were out of sight. 
Poe’s eyes followed you as you left, worrying tinting his gaze. The group had fallen almost silent at your abrupt exit, looking at where you’d run, before turning back to Poe. Snap slapped the back of his head.
“Why, in the Maker’s name, would you say that?”
“What?” Poe said, rubbing the back of his head. Jess gave him a pointed look, “What did I say?”
“You joked about getting hurt, Poe! Why would you do that?”
“He didn’t just joke about getting hurt, Wex! He joked about almost dying!”
"Oh please, it's not that big of a deal. Everyone knew it was a joke. Right?" No one looks at him. "Right?!"
Jess waves at Paige, whose eyes were trained at the door. She meekly walks over, leaning down to talk to Jess. 
"Is she ok?" Paige asked, her eyes brushing over the group until they landed on Poe, "What did he do?"
Poe's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm so confused," he muttered under his breath.
"He made a joke.”
Snap butt in, “About almost dying."
Paige’s eyes widened, "You're not serious."
"Look, I don't know what's up with her today, but something tells me that that was the last thing she needed right now."
Paige turned towards Poe, "If you weren't injured right now, Captain, I would beat you up." 
"Hold up. I don't even know what I did." He said, standing up. "I get that the joke was a little misplaced, but it was a joke. I didn't put myself in this situation willingly."
"We get it, Poe. But you haven't been here. She's literally been destroyed - she's barely sleeping, I barely see her come down to eat, she spends all her time working on different ships, drowning herself in work. Today was the first day in the year she's been here that she's called in sick." Paige said, her eyes flitting between Poe and the door. She was in a half-mind to run after you, to console you. 
Poe beat her to it. He got up, ignoring the protest from his teammates, and headed towards your room. He knocked lightly on your door, hearing the gentle sobbing from your room.
His heart broke. He knocked again. 
“I’m fine Paige, I just need sleep.”
“Nice to know you’d lie to Paige.” Poe said, his voice steady and gentle. You open the door to you room, the door whooshing up to reveal Poe in all his glory, “Would you lie to your Captain?”
“Don’t pull rank with me, Poe.” You joked as he bent to meet your eyes.
He reached out to caress his fingers against your cheek and wipe away the stray tears. You leaned your head into his hands, the callouses on his hands like comfort against your cheek. He touches his forehead to your eyes, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t quite believe you were here. That this was happening. 
“I’m sorry.” You whispered. Poe’s eyes met yours, softly searching for something. Answers, probably.
“Why are you sorry, darling?” The pet name gripped your heart, so familiar and yet so foreign. The tears begin to flow freely again. He soothed you, mindlessly carding his fingers through your hair, “Don’t cry, don’t cry.” 
You look into his eyes, and can’t help but to sob harder. Why did you have to fall in love with him?
Your head curled into his chest, seeking the comfort only he could give. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He asked, whispering into your hair. 
“I didn’t mean to.” You said through tears. Poe looked at you.
“You didn’t mean to what, love?” He asked. You repeated it over and over, your tears soaking through his shirt. He lets you cry until your weak, pulling you further into his arms. 
He asks you again. 
“I didn’t mean to love you so much.” You confessed through whispers. It was so quiet that you thought that Poe didn’t catch what you said.
His widened eyes told you otherwise. 
“You…?”
“I love you.” You whispered.
“You-you love me?”
“I love you so much that whenever I see you my heart quickens until it’s uncomfortable.”
“Love -”
“I love you so much that my hands become so sweaty that I can barely keep a hold of my datapad.” You showed him your hands that were covered in a sheen. He gives you a watery laugh, before wiping your hands on his already soaked shirt. 
“I love you so much that when you leave, I can’t bear to survive.” 
“Love-” You interrupt him again.
“There’s no life without you, Poe.” Your voice broke as you dissolved into another bout of tears. 
“Love, please.” Poe sighed, kissing your forehead, “Please, just-”
“I know. It’s a war. I shouldn’t have, but I did and I can’t help it. Please don’t hate me, please-”
Poe grabbed your face, pulling you into him. He grazed his lips over yours, before pulling away way to fast. 
“I could never hate you, love.”
You pull him back towards you, smashing your lips onto his. He pulls you into his lap deepening the kiss further. You run your fingers through his hair, and over where the bandages cover his fresh wounds. Poe winced, and you pulled back. 
“You should rest. And heal up.”
He looked at you with such adoration, that for a moment you thought you’d melt away. “I have the rest of forever to heal up. I want this now.”
“You have me for the rest of forever. I think you should heal up now.” He rested his forehead against yours, sighing and closing his eyes. You kissed his nose gently.
“The rest of forever is too far away.” He whispered.
“You made me wait for this long. I think you could wait for a little longer.”
“Only a little bit, love. Only for you.”
He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it, and he pulled you to your feet. The sudden motion had you dizzy, head pounding due to the dehydration. He caught you gently, lifting you into his arms, before gently depositing you on the bed. He left light kisses on your forehead, and left with the promise of coming back with water and a little food. 
He walked out of the mechanics wing and back towards the cantina, intent on his mission to get a little food and water into you. 
The whole of black squadron watched him walk in. Poe nodded to them lightly, not knowing exactly what they had been expecting. Apparently it was enough for them, as they turned back towards each other. 
He grabbed a small muffin and a bottle of water, before heading back to your room. He walked into see you asleep on the bed, and he couldn’t help but smile. God, she’s beautiful. 
Poe sat down on the bed, rubbing your arm gently. You opened a bleary eye to see Poe crouched next to you, blocking the moonlight streaming in from the window. He pulled off his shirt, and lifted your head up to get you drink some water, before settling down next to you. You rested your head on his chest before falling back to sleep.
Poe moved under you, pulling his necklace from around his neck and placing it around yours. Your hand immediately migrated to the metal ring strung on the end. Poe froze. What if it’s too soon. He relaxed almost immediately, as your fist closes around his rings.
He relaxed, pushing his nose into your hair. You smiled as he whispered something that he probably only said because he thought you were asleep.
“I love you too."
fin.
buy me a coffee
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usafphantom2 · 1 month
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SR-71 “Ichi-Ban” – Buried in the Deepest Ocean on Earth
Throughout the 60s, Lockheed Skunk Works were building some incredible aircraft – the A-12 Oxcart and SR-71 were and still are some of the fastest vehicles ever made. These technical achievements were incredible. Before home computing and the internet, there were aircraft capable of more than 2,000 mph.
But, being on the bleeding edge of technology comes with risks. Either through lack of understanding or difficulty in manufacturing parts to tight enough tolerances, accidents can and will happen. This was to be the unfortunate fate of the SR-71 known as “Ichi-Ban”.
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The Lockheed SR-71, known as the ‘Habu’.
SR-71 #61-17974 was based at Kadena AFB, Okinawa, Japan and made quite the scene for the locals who lived close by.
Read More: Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird – The Plane Designed to Leak
The unusual aircraft drew a lot of attention thanks to the unusual shape and jet black paintwork. The SR-71 became known as the ‘Habu’ locally, thanks to its resemblance to the Habu Pit Viper.
The Habu Viper.
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The shape of the Habu Viper’s head has a strong resemblance to the SR-71.
As these aircraft were spyplanes, pilots did not become aces in the traditional sense, but with every mission flown a Habu was painted onto the side of the Blackbird. Once amassing 5 missions complete the crew would be considered an ace.
#61-17974 had the most operational missions complete and a large Habu was painted on the tail of the aircraft as a mark of respect. The snake was wrapped around a red ‘1’ and in the local language, ‘number one’ translated to ‘Ichi-Ban’.
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The SR-71 known as "Ichi-Ban".
In April of 1989, just like many missions flown before, Pilot Lt. Col Dan House took Ichi-Ban into the skies above Kadena and everything seemed normal.
Nothing was reported by House or by his RSO Blair Bozek that would indicate any issue.
That was until House pushed the throttles on the pair of J-58 engines to maximum power. As Ichi-Ban hit Mach 3.0 the bearing in the left-hand compressor failed and caused the immediate destruction of the engine whilst travelling at over 2,000 mph.
The Wreckage of SR-71 "Ichi-Ban".
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The damage from hitting the water was immense.
As the J-58 exploded, shrapnel was sent flying damaging the SR-71 and most critically severing hydraulic lines. Even the best and most experienced pilots ever would not be able to save such a badly damaged plane.
House did not give up, incredibly aware that the death of his RSO and himself was imminent, he managed to steer the Blackbird into a shallow descent and decelerate as quickly as possible.
Ejecting from aircraft is not a pleasant experience for anyone involved and doing it at Mach 3 would have been suicide.
The US could not let the wreckage fall into the hands of the Chinese government.
It was extremely important to recover the wreckage as the technology was highly classified.
However, extreme skill combined with a lot of luck meant that the wounded aircraft found itself below 10,000 at low enough speed for both House and Bozek to safely eject. They landed in the sea where some local fishermen came to their rescue.
Ichi-Ban continued going down and eventually smashed into the waters of the South China Sea.
Despite the age of the SR-71, the US could not let the wreckage be recovered by the Chinese. It was too technically advanced. It was not long before the wreckage had been salvaged and transported back to the Kadena Air Force base.
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The tail of Ichi-Ban.
There were several options of what they could do with the wreckage of Ichi-Ban: scrap the aircraft and sell the metal to the highest bidder in Okinawa, send it back to the US for disposal, or bury it.
Typically the fastest and least expensive option was chosen.
Read More: The F-22 Raptor – The Fighter of the Future
But, the story does not end there – the Pacific Air Force would not permit burial of the aircraft at Kadena because facilities were constantly under construction for new tenants. Meaning that it may be a possibility that it would need to be dug up and moved somewhere else.
The SR-71 was an important aircraft to many.
Crews were very fond of the SR-71. Fitting that a full military honours burial was done to see her off.
Burial at sea seemed the most fitting option but required help from the US Navy. After all of the bureaucracy was settled the SR-71 #61-17974 was transferred to a waiting vessel.
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Her remains were taken out to sea on Christmas Eve 1989 and buried with full military honours. Pushed off the side of the vessel, Ichi-Ban sank 25,597 feet into the ocean where she lies at the bottom of the Mariana Trench.
Are there any SR-71 still flying?
Though the SR-71 still holds the record for the highest altitude in horizontal flight, it’s no longer in use. In fact, Clarence “Kelly” Johnson designed this aircraft for Lockheed with the latest technology of the time. The plane’s pilots even required special suits to survive the extreme conditions the planes created. However, the US retired the planes in 1989 for political reasons and would only have brief reinstatement during the 1990s, after which the US permanently retired them.
@Stealthy360 via X
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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 1 year
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I didn't mean to love you so much.
Poe Dameron x Reader
Summary: You don't know what you have until it's gone. Or is it?
Word Count: 6.0K
AN: Hello lovely people, sorry the ending to this one's kinda shitty! Kinda got lost while writing it, but I hope y'all enjoy it anyway. All love!
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It took 3 days to arrive on D'Qar.
The Naboo N-1 Starfighter that you stole from the junkyard on Bracca was one wrong move away from falling out of the sky. Even with your constant mid-flight repairs, only prayers to the Maker were keeping her together. The BB unit you found kept you posted with constant, and frankly worrying, updates on how the ship was holding. Let's just say the plane was soon to be out of use.
When you entered the atmosphere in D'Qar, the landing gear erupted into flames, eliciting a series of explicit beeps from the BB unit. If not for the life-or-death in front of you, you would have burst into a fit of giggles.
Instead, you just grit your teeth: "Happy beeps, bud."
You and the BB unit left the carnage that used to be a starfighter flaming in the trees, bickering the whole time, and heading towards the Resistance Base. Towards new beginnings. Towards freedom.
Bracca was a junkyard, where scavengers and smugglers looked for parts to sell to the highest bidder. It was dark and dangerous at the best of times, and work was never-ending. It wasn't the kind of place you would want to grow up, but it was better than Kessel. Anything was better than Kessel.
It took a week to get to the Rebel base. Your head throbbed painfully with each passing day, with hardly any food in your system and little water to quench your thirst, the journey to salvation seemed almost unattainable. You had thanked the Maker for rain when it first came, but after 4 days of non-stop rain, you had cursed the skies for it. It only seemed to fall harder.
By day 5, the BB unit was running out of power, its movements slower than before. It was far too heavy for you to carry and without it, you would never reach the Resistance base. There were no sarcastic quips or complaints for its master anymore. No, the two of you traveled in silence, aside from the odd groan from either one of you. Its tiredness mimicked your own. You could only pray that the base would come into view soon. You weren't sure how much longer you would last.
When the planes came into view, you almost cried with joy. With newfound energy, you and the BB unit near-ran the way to the tarmac runway that signaled life on this dratted planet.
And while the BB unit was welcomed with cheers and open arms, you weren't so lucky.
You were marched to the medical bay by two men almost twice your size, flanked on the left and the right so you couldn't run if you tried. Your heartbeat in your throat. Of course, the resistance had to be careful, but surely this was excessive.
After you received treatment for your assortment of cuts and burns, you were delivered to a small room, adorned with only a bed and curtains to block out the light. Before you could say anything, let alone protest, the doors shut, leaving you alone in a small cell deep in the heart of the Resistance base.
As terrifying as the whole situation was, when you laid your head to rest on the bed in the dingy room, sleep came. It beat thorns and nettles on the forest floor of D'Qar. It beat sitting upright for 3 days, trying to avoid meteors and Tie Fighters. It beat restless nights on Bracca, hoping to gather enough for a meal. Sleep came to you better than it ever had before, and you reveled in it.
You woke up to familiar beeping outside the large metal door.
"BB-3?" Your voice came out as a hoarse whisper. The beeping got louder, almost unbearably loud, "Calm down, bud. I don't know how to open the door."
"Step back." A male voice came from behind the door, startling you. You stumbled backward, falling on the floor as the whooshed open. A tall man stood there, and if he were surprised you were on the floor, he didn't show it.
You scrambled to your feet, brushing the dust off your clothes as BB-3 rolled in, circling around you like a vulture would his prey. The man stood there observing you and the droid got reacquainted, before clearing his throat.
"Vice Admiral Holdo would like to speak with you." His tone was authoritative. You didn't want to be on his bad side. He led you toward an office on the opposite side of the building, your legs shaking as you walked. He shot you a pitying glance as BB-3 followed at your heels, before returning his face to its emotionless expression. You hated it.
It must have been early, as only a few people were up, and those who were seemed to want to rather be asleep. But no one batted an eye your way, despite the grime you still felt clinging to your face, and the ripped clothes you were wearing. You wondered if this was normal to them. People coming home grimy, hurt, and disgusting.
Only one man seemed to notice you on your journey.
"Snap!" A voice called out to you. The man in front of you - presumably Snap - broke into a huge grin. "Long time, no see, buddy!" Snap clapped the other man on the back, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
You stood there as the other man regaled the story of whatever mission he'd been on to Snap, and for a moment, you thought you were forgotten.
Until he turned. His eyes seemed to scorch your soul with their searching gaze. It was heavy, but you felt safe under it. Almost as if you knew that he would do nothing to hurt you.
"Heard all about how this one came in yesterday." He stretched out his hand, "Captain Poe Dameron. Pleasure to meet you."
You shook his hand and returned the favour, telling you his name. He tested it on his tongue, repeating a few times. Once he seemed satisfied, Poe turned back to Snap.
"How come you got stuck on babysitting duty?" He asked, mirth dancing in his eyes. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes or butt in - you wanted these people to like you. Sarcasm could be saved for later.
"Kid brought back my droid."
"BB-8 told me the story. Something about running from a resistance fighter, blowing up a depot train," you kick BB-3 gently, "and exploding an N-1. It was impossible. Maybe you should get your droid checked for gossiping?" Snap punched him in the arm, "Hey, it was just a suggestion." Poe grinned widely, "Oh, and the shootout. How could I forget the shootout?"
"It wasn't a shootout." You slapped your hand to your mouth. You hadn't meant to say that out loud. So much for saving the sarcasm for later.
Poe turns to look at you. "Oh?" his grin infuriatingly wide. "That's not what the droid said."
"It wasn't a shootout, we were shot at." Your confidence floods back into you. "And the depot train wasn't us. Wrong place, wrong time. Am I right, bud?" You glare down at the BB-unit.
He mumbles something about ruining a good story before whirring off to stop behind Snap. Stupid BB-unit.
"Guess you're more interesting than I gave you credit for kid." Snap stepped towards you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. "The name's Temmin, Temmin Wexley. But everyone calls me Snap."
"Pleasure to meet you Snap," you echo Poe's words from earlier.
Your meeting with the Vice Admiral went well. She believed your story, well corroborated by both BB-3 and the bounty on your head placed by a well-meaning neighbour. She cleared you to start training with the resistance, though you surprised both her and Snap when you asked to be a mechanic.
Though when you started working on ships, it was clear to see why. It was almost like there was a secret language that ships spoke that only you seemed to understand. You scoffed at that. Beginner's luck you called it. Still, there was no denying that you loved working on the ships and that you were good at it too.
Months went by and you settled into the routines of the Resistance. You were given a room closer to the other mechanics, who, despite the constant tension of competition, seemed to like you well enough. You often sat with them for meals, although passing up on opportunities to spend more time with them. They seemed content with that. You got used to the early morning wake-up calls when the sun streamed through the window and urgent repairs needed to be made. You learned to enjoy the quiet evenings when everyone else had closed up shop and you could finetune repairs for those who needed it. You finally felt like you had a purpose. It was freeing.
Snap kept you up-to-date on the comings and goings of the First Order - never in much detail of course, but enough to satiate your desire to know more. In return you smuggled him extra jogan fruitcake when it was served while he was away. Sometimes, in thanks for saving your life, you made extra updates and repairs to his X-Wing when he came back from long missions - more often than not to save his those extra hours of tedious work.
Black Squadron had come home after a week long mission the night before. You had worked late into the night the day before, and you were now regretting it. Blue squadron had come into contact with a few Tie Fighters on night patrol, and the damage was hair-pullingly extensive. You were in for a long day. It didn't help that you could barely keep your eyes open, hands glued to a cup of Caf that was doing little for the tiredness clouding your brain. You didn't even notice Snap come storming in.
"WHO WORKED ON MY SHIP LAST NIGHT?" He yelled over all the mechanics. Shit.
You had done some basic repairs for him the evening before last and had spent the better part of last night finishing up repairs and repainting his ship. You knew how pilots were with ship paint. Maker, you were screwed.
After a few moments of silence, you decided it was better to own up than let everyone suffer. "I did, Wexley."
He slowly turned towards you, before grabbing you and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting your feet off the ground. You were shocked. He was happy - no, elated. The rest of the mechanics, equally as confused as you, turned back to their work, ignoring the scene in front of them.
He still had you gripped tightly when Poe walked in. "Easy tiger, you'll kill the greenie. What did she do to deserve your wrath?"
"My wrath?! No, no, no, Poe. This kid is my new favorite person on base."
"I'll try not to take offense to that," Poe grumbled jokingly, "What did she do to deserve such high praise then?"
"Have you seen my ship? She's beautiful, more beautiful than Jess that one time." He started, about to regale a story, you did not need to know. You elbowed him hard in the ribs.
"My sentiment exactly," Poe said to you, giving you a fist bump before walking over to Snap's X-Wing, closely followed by Snap himself. You trailed behind them, still unsure of what was going on. Poe dragged his finger across the paintwork, "He has a point though. I've never seen Snap's X-Wing look this good." Poe turned towards you, his warm brown eyes sparkling with pride. "Good job, Greenie."
You smiled gently, before turning away. It was high praise from Captain Poe Dameron, flyboy of the resistance.
"Maybe I'll snap her up, you know, give her a real ship to work on?" Poe said, his flirting tone making an odd double entendre that made your face light up in flames.
"Not a chance. Kid, you're my new mechanic. Officially."
"What if I don't want to be?" You countered, your sarcastic tone making both Snap and Poe burst into laughter.
You accepted the role though. There was no world in which you didn't. You enjoyed the perks of being Snap's favored Mechanic - you could sleep in more often, you were privy to more information than the average mechanic. He would tell you if he was to leave the base soon, you were often told just how bad a situation was. Snap trusted you. And if Snap did, so did the others.
'The others' being the other pilots on Black Squadron: Jessika Pava, Karé Kun, L'ulo L'ampar. And of course, Poe Dameron. It was almost like you couldn't escape him. His infectious laugh, his boyish grin, his boisterous personality. His ability to make even the most mundane task into a story for the ages.
No wonder he was so popular.
You began to sit with them in the cantina and you frequently ended up leading the repairs on Black Squadron, no one else being as trusted as you. You opened up to them slowly, telling them about growing up on Kessel and being brought to the Scrapper’s guild on Kessel. You told them the truth about your escape - Poe ended up on the floor laughing, saying “the real story’s so much better, BB-3”. They found out about your impeccable aim after a fun night in the cantina that ended in a tense game of holodarts. They became your family - more of a family you had ever had in your life.
And while, you saw Snap, L’ulo and Karé as your brothers, you could not say the same for Poe. Poe was a flirt, everyone knew that. But as you got closer and closer, it was harder to ignore the way you're heart sped up when he looked at you. How you're palms grew clammy when he smiled in your direction. How his praises and compliments made your knees weak. God you were in love with him.
You knew that half the women on the base had either slept with him or wanted to, and yet not one of them got even a second of his time. None of them except you. Poe would walk you to your room in the evening, and to the cantina in the morning, regaling stories of his adventures before he knew you. He’d bring you caf when you were working late, and sit under the stars with you at the end of a long day. He’d tell you stories of Yavin 4 and his mother. He showed you the ring that hung on the end of his necklace. 
“I want to give it to the one, you know?”
“Don’t get all sentimental on me, Captain.”
He groaned, “Don’t rank me.” You just smiled.
“So, no lucky lady in your life, Dameron?”
“No lucky man in yours, greenie?” 
You scoffed, “If there was ever a chance, they’ve all been scared away by you.”
“Good.”
You laughed it off, but inside your guts twisted at the idea that Poe was happy you were single. Your insides warmed at the idea that he might just feel the same. 
The next morning, you walked out of your room to the sight of Poe sneaking out of the room opposite yours. Half-naked. His eyes widened at the sight of you, and your hand quickly hid your eyes from the view. Your heart dropped. He lied to you. 
Poe sought you out later on in the day. He came up behind you on the landing deck, with a cool glass of jogan juice in hand. You had stripped out of your mechanics jumsuit, the arms tied loosely around your waist. Your tank top was almost a shade darker with the sweat of exertion and ridiculous heat. And yet you declined it, your face barely concealing your childlike annoyance. You knew it was stupid. You and Poe were barely friends, let alone anything that would justify your anger.
“I’m sorry.” Poe huffed, still standing underneath you in the beating sunshine. You were surprised: Poe Dameron never apologises.
“For what?” You said, your back still facing him. He sighed - he didn’t like it when anyone was annoyed at him. Least of all you.
“For this morning.”
“Why does it matter, Poe? You can sleep with who you want to.” You said, anger colouring your voice.
“It matters,” he yells, “because it upset you. Because, for whatever reason, the idea of me sleeping with other people, made you mad at me.”
His obliviousness tugged at your heartstrings, as if to say ‘he doesn’t feel the same’.“I’m not mad that you’re sleeping with other people.”
“Then why are you ignoring me?”
“Because you lied to me, Poe.” You say, dropping down from the ladder, sweat dripping down your back. 
“What are you talking about?”
“You said there was no one special in your life.”
“There isn’t.” You raise a brow, before grabbing the glass of jogan juice from his hand. “Just because we had fun for a night, doesn’t mean I’m getting down on one knee.”
“I think you’ve done it enough times for that to be proven, Poe.”
His cheeky smile returned, “Glad we’re back on first name terms.”
You shook your head at him, “For the record, if I ever catch you sneaking out of a room in my wing again, I’ll skin you myself.”
“If you catch me you say? Well, I like myself a challenge.” You slap him on the head, before climbing back up the ladder.
“Leave me alone, Poe. I don’t need your love troubles plaguing my every hour.”
“There’s no place for things like love in the middle of a war, greenie. First thing you learn in a place like this.”
If he hadn’t been walking away, he would have heard your heart burst into a thousand tiny pieces. Maybe it was for the best if you didn't love him.
Instead of wallowing in undeserving heartache like an idiot, you forced yourself to forget all about the way Poe made your heart feel. He became just another friend, pushed so far into the friendzone that was no conceivable way out. To his credit, you didn’t hear of another escapade of his again. He probably just got good at hiding them.
That always got difficult when he was sent on week-long missions. Your heart would migrate into your throat and even swallowing became difficult. Your mind would swim with worry, all for him to come back completely fine, his ship always seemed to come home the least scathed. A fact for which your heart was grateful.
"Hey, flyboy," you called, as you walked into the cantina. There were less than 10 people in the whole room - probably due to the ungodly hour of the day.
Poe was sat in the corner, the light of his datapad shining on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was unusually disheveled, which could only mean one thing. He was nervous.
You walked up to him. Evidently, he hadn't heard you from across the room, because when you came up to him and rested your hand on his shoulder, he flinched and grabbed your hand. You winced at his tight grip as he turned to face you.
Poe released your hand when he saw it was you. He leaned back into your chest, eyes fluttering shut. "I'm sorry," he whispered, gently.
You grabbed the datapad from his hands, and placed it face down on the table, "It's ok. What's going on?"
"Nothing. Don't worry about it."
You absent-mindedly run your hands through his hair as his head remained leaned against your chest. "It's not nothing. Is it a mission? You're leaving again soon?"
He hummed in agreement.
"You're leaving today, aren't you? That's why you're up early."
"Why do you think Snap got you to wake up early? You're not just a sight for sore eyes, you know."
His words made you blush. Never have you been more glad that he isn't staring right at you - it would give your heart’s deepest darkest desires away. 
He left that afternoon. After you completed routine checks for him, he was off on a top-secret adventure. Sometimes, it was easy to hate his rank, because it made it so hard to find out where he was, or what he was doing. But as always, you let him go and, as always, you prayed he'd come home safe. To you. You always pray he comes home safe to you.
Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks. And while it wasn't unheard of for Poe to be gone this long, your heart could barely take him being gone for a day. That's the price of being in love. You'd never thought of yourself as still being in love with Poe until he left on that mission. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still raced when he talked to you. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still ached when he left for missions. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still burst when he smiled at you. But without him there, it's like your heart could not find a reason for beating. 
You continued on with your job, trudging through daily repairs and meals, trying to keep your mind away from Poe. You forced a smile when you talked to Snap - missing Poe hit him just as hard as it hit you. You forced a smile when you taught new recruits - you couldn't afford to have them hate you just because the Captain was missing. You forced a smile when you came down for dinner - there was no use in moping around in the middle of a war. But when you were in the comfort of your own room, you let the smile fall and the tears drip down your face. You cried almost every night for the first week that he was gone, trying to reconcile your newly found feelings and your newly lost friend.
It was a surprise to everyone when Poe crash-landed back on D'Qar with burns and cuts littering his body. You were up at an extremely early hour as working on Snap's ship when he landed, and you were immediately filled with concern. A tight knot wound its way around your throat, as you watched the scene unfold. BB-8 was nowhere to be seen. The ship is smoking dangerously, and parts of it are falling off, but most worrying of all, Poe was struggling to get out of the cockpit. You quickly threw yourself onto the X-Wing, hitting the emergency ejection latch with the spanner in your hand. The cockpit lid flew open and Poe climbed out, coughing heavily and clutching his side.  Snap came running out of the base, and grabbed Poe's arm. You ran up and grabbed the other, and the two of you dragged him towards the med wing. 
Two nurses snapped him up, cleaning his wounds and applying bacta spray where necessary. Snap turned away, mumbling something about an early morning briefing, but you stayed rooted to the spot. You couldn't take your eyes off his broken state, and tears slipped out of your eyes before you could control them. After a beat, you spun around on your heel and sprinted to your room. 
When the door clanged shut, you slumped onto the floor and burst into tears. You couldn't bear to see Poe in pain. You hated yourself for not being strong enough to fight through your tears to be with him. And you hated yourself for still being in love with him, when you promised you would be. When your datapad lit up with tasks for the day, you made the rash decision to call in sick. In the time you had been on the base, you had never called in sick. This job was your lifeline, your passion, and nothing, not even illness, would affect that. At least, that's what you had thought. You spent the majority of the week in that same spot, tears subsiding when you became so dehydrated that your body refused to let you cry.
On the fifth day of your hibernation, you finally left your room, having showered and gotten ready. Few people were on the base, apart from the mechanics and medics, and the injured - which included Poe. Given the lack of a real threat in the vicinity, General Leia had given the day off. You didn’t want to relax. You couldn’t relax.
You snuck over to where Poe’s beat up X-Wing was parked, and the sight of it almost made you tear up. The memories hit you like a brick. Poe barely limping towards the med wing. BB-8 being carried to the droid repair room. Fire extinguishers coating the X-Wing with hopes that it may be able to fly again. You got to work.
You were finally satisfied as the sun set over the vast treescape of D'Qar, covered head to toe in oil and grease. After some gentle coaxing by Paige - the only one aware of your all-consuming feelings for Poe - you agreed to grab something small to eat with her.
What you didn't sign up for was to see a broken and battered Poe sitting at the table, laughing at some stupid joke that Snap had probably made. He looked up as you walked in, almost as if he was expecting you. His eyes met yours, and you felt the tight knot in your throat begin to form again - just as it had the morning Poe crash-landed on the base.
Poe tried to lift his arm up to wave but winced at the action, the stitches keeping his wounds bound together stretching at the extreme action. You pressed your lips into a tight smile, willing the Maker to take your tears away. Paige handed you a bottle of water, before leading you toward the table. She left you standing in front of the table, where you awkwardly shifted your feet.
"Gonna sit down?" Snap asked, mirth dancing behind his eyes, "Or are you planning to put on a show? Wouldn't put it past you to have hidden another talent."
You smiled weakly, sitting down next to Jess and unscrewing the cap on the water bottle you had been given. Jess leaned over and whispered gently, "Feeling ok? Paige came up to ask if you were ok when you didn't show up at drills this morning."
"Yeah, felt a bit under the weather after morning rounds."
"Probably the shitty sleep you've been getting worrying about this guy." Karé said, pointing his knife at Poe.
Poe looked at you, his eyes wide, but you tried to brush off Karé's words, sarcastically replying, "Oh please Karé, the only thing you're worried about is whether or not they have that drink that you like from Sorgan, which is disgusting by the way - I don't know how you can drink it."
Everyone laughs as Karé splutters about how delicious spotchka is, the anxiousness wracking your body easing its reins slightly. Under the table, you feel Poe's foot nudge yours gently. You smile lightly at him, careful not to let him have a good look at your red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face. As much as it shouldn't matter, you don't want him to know how much you care.
"You don't have to pretend you don't care for the captain, kid. You should have seen how she leaped to open the hatch Poe, something from a Naboo holodrama. Or one of those superhero films." Snap laughed, as your face burned red.
Poe raised his eyebrow, "Now that's something I would like to see. Maybe I'll get myself stuck in a cockpit again, just to see you in action." He laughs, but you don't laugh with him. You feel your chest tighten, and the knot in your throat return. Your vision clouds with tears, and you quickly got up, excusing yourself on the notion that your headache has returned, and that you should probably get some rest before drills the next day. You stumbled out of the cantina, breaking into a sprint as soon as you were out of sight. 
Poe’s eyes followed you as you left, worrying tinting his gaze. The group had fallen almost silent at your abrupt exit, looking at where you’d run, before turning back to Poe. Snap slapped the back of his head.
“Why, in the Maker’s name, would you say that?”
“What?” Poe said, rubbing the back of his head. Jess gave him a pointed look, “What did I say?”
“You joked about getting hurt, Poe! Why would you do that?”
“He didn’t just joke about getting hurt, Wex! He joked about almost dying!”
"Oh please, it's not that big of a deal. Everyone knew it was a joke. Right?" No one looks at him. "Right?!"
Jess waves at Paige, whose eyes were trained at the door. She meekly walks over, leaning down to talk to Jess. 
"Is she ok?" Paige asked, her eyes brushing over the group until they landed on Poe, "What did he do?"
Poe's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm so confused," he muttered under his breath.
"He made a joke.”
Snap butt in, “About almost dying."
Paige’s eyes widened, "You're not serious."
"Look, I don't know what's up with her today, but something tells me that that was the last thing she needed right now."
Paige turned towards Poe, "If you weren't injured right now, Captain, I would beat you up." 
"Hold up. I don't even know what I did." He said, standing up. "I get that the joke was a little misplaced, but it was a joke. I didn't put myself in this situation willingly."
"We get it, Poe. But you haven't been here. She's literally been destroyed - she's barely sleeping, I barely see her come down to eat, she spends all her time working on different ships, drowning herself in work. Today was the first day in the year she's been here that she's called in sick." Paige said, her eyes flitting between Poe and the door. She was in a half-mind to run after you, to console you. 
Poe beat her to it. He got up, ignoring the protest from his teammates, and headed towards your room. He knocked lightly on your door, hearing the gentle sobbing from your room.
His heart broke. He knocked again. 
“I’m fine Paige, I just need sleep.”
“Nice to know you’d lie to Paige.” Poe said, his voice steady and gentle. You open the door to you room, the door whooshing up to reveal Poe in all his glory, “Would you lie to your Captain?”
“Don’t pull rank with me, Poe.” You joked as he bent to meet your eyes.
He reached out to caress his fingers against your cheek and wipe away the stray tears. You leaned your head into his hands, the callouses on his hands like comfort against your cheek. He touches his forehead to your eyes, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t quite believe you were here. That this was happening. 
“I’m sorry.” You whispered. Poe’s eyes met yours, softly searching for something. Answers, probably.
“Why are you sorry, darling?” The pet name gripped your heart, so familiar and yet so foreign. The tears begin to flow freely again. He soothed you, mindlessly carding his fingers through your hair, “Don’t cry, don’t cry.” 
You look into his eyes, and can’t help but to sob harder. Why did you have to fall in love with him?
Your head curled into his chest, seeking the comfort only he could give. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He asked, whispering into your hair. 
“I didn’t mean to.” You said through tears. Poe looked at you.
“You didn’t mean to what, love?” He asked. You repeated it over and over, your tears soaking through his shirt. He lets you cry until your weak, pulling you further into his arms. 
He asks you again. 
“I didn’t mean to love you so much.” You confessed through whispers. It was so quiet that you thought that Poe didn’t catch what you said.
His widened eyes told you otherwise. 
“You…?”
“I love you.” You whispered.
“You-you love me?”
“I love you so much that whenever I see you my heart quickens until it’s uncomfortable.”
“Love -”
“I love you so much that my hands become so sweaty that I can barely keep a hold of my datapad.” You showed him your hands that were covered in a sheen. He gives you a watery laugh, before wiping your hands on his already soaked shirt. 
“I love you so much that when you leave, I can’t bear to survive.” 
“Love-” You interrupt him again.
“There’s no life without you, Poe.” Your voice broke as you dissolved into another bout of tears. 
“Love, please.” Poe sighed, kissing your forehead, “Please, just-”
“I know. It’s a war. I shouldn’t have, but I did and I can’t help it. Please don’t hate me, please-”
Poe grabbed your face, pulling you into him. He grazed his lips over yours, before pulling away way to fast. 
“I could never hate you, love.”
You pull him back towards you, smashing your lips onto his. He pulls you into his lap deepening the kiss further. You run your fingers through his hair, and over where the bandages cover his fresh wounds. Poe winced, and you pulled back. 
“You should rest. And heal up.”
He looked at you with such adoration, that for a moment you thought you’d melt away. “I have the rest of forever to heal up. I want this now.”
“You have me for the rest of forever. I think you should heal up now.” He rested his forehead against yours, sighing and closing his eyes. You kissed his nose gently.
“The rest of forever is too far away.” He whispered.
“You made me wait for this long. I think you could wait for a little longer.”
“Only a little bit, love. Only for you.”
He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it, and he pulled you to your feet. The sudden motion had you dizzy, head pounding due to the dehydration. He caught you gently, lifting you into his arms, before gently depositing you on the bed. He left light kisses on your forehead, and left with the promise of coming back with water and a little food. 
He walked out of the mechanics wing and back towards the cantina, intent on his mission to get a little food and water into you. 
The whole of black squadron watched him walk in. Poe nodded to them lightly, not knowing exactly what they had been expecting. Apparently it was enough for them, as they turned back towards each other. 
He grabbed a small muffin and a bottle of water, before heading back to your room. He walked into see you asleep on the bed, and he couldn’t help but smile. God, she’s beautiful. 
Poe sat down on the bed, rubbing your arm gently. You opened a bleary eye to see Poe crouched next to you, blocking the moonlight streaming in from the window. He pulled off his shirt, and lifted your head up to get you drink some water, before settling down next to you. You rested your head on his chest before falling back to sleep.
Poe moved under you, pulling his necklace from around his neck and placing it around yours. Your hand immediately migrated to the metal ring strung on the end. Poe froze. What if it’s too soon. He relaxed almost immediately, as your fist closes around his rings.
He relaxed, pushing his nose into your hair. You smiled as he whispered something that he probably only said because he thought you were asleep.
“I love you too."
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SandStorm (DarkAemond x Oc/Reader!)
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(Cool devider credits!!:) @) dingusfreakhxrrington
🔷Summary: You are Elna/Reader Martell and before you marry you go on a vacation to the land that always held a close space to your heart: The Six Kingdoms. You become the captive of Aemond Targaryen.
WORDCOUNT: 3275
🔷Author's note: This was a request, this is my first time writing any Dornish oc, I tried making her a bit as Oberyn (Curious to the world, bold) but also still her own character. I hope the anon who requested her liked her, I tried making her not a total push-over as in some of my fics.
🔷Warnings: Arranged marriages, Dead, gore, bodies, slight dub-con, no smut, kidnapping, hostage taking, and slight judgement against Dornish characters (One innkeeper thinks shes a thief) oh and eating rat-meat.
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Your whole life has been about living in Sunspear, the castle in Dorne. Living a sheltered life, away from the dangers of the six Kingdoms, away from the doom, the dragons and the death that Targaryens inflicted upon their subjects. 
You were a spectator from afar, unbothered with the politics of any kind, both from Dorne and outside.
Until your father, Prince Quoren Martell, planned to marry you off. And that is where your story starts.
—--
Your fingers absently play with the sigil ring of your house, as you pull the cloak a bit further over your dark, dornish locks, covering up as a shiver runs down your spine. 
Your sworn shield, Oryn, walks a few paces behind you, keeping a close eye on both you and the market stalls you pass. 
You run from stall to stall, taking in the wares of the sellers, throwing golden coins at their tables before whisking away necklaces, rings, to you foreign foods and other souvenirs that will hopefully fill the hole left in your soul. A hole caused by the one you loved so dearly, your father.
You never disrespected his wishes, never tried anything too dangerous, but now he is planning to sell you to a Spice lord or someone in Essos, in return for a fleet. According to your mother, it is the fate of any woman to eventually be sold to the highest bidder. You spit on that idea, and on the men.
You put a new gold with orange necklace in your pocket, eagerly looking for your next target when Oryn approaches you. He too, is disguised but certainly still armed with his trusty sword. ‘’My lady, surely you have purchased enough? Most of these necklaces are too overpriced for their value. The gemstones are coloured glass.’’ It is true, any fool would tell you the same. The gold is painted iron, if not copper, and the gemstones are glass and fragile. You have been dressing in the finest silks and jewelry for years by now. You would recognize a fraud if it was in front of you.
Your lips slowly creep into a smile.‘’I quite like the way the glass shimmers, pretending to be a gemstone. I have experience with that.’’ You tell him, with a wink.
You walk to another stand, taking a piece of meat on a stick from a vendor, before paying them. You scrape it loose from the stick with your teeth, and it's the best meat you ever tasted. ‘’Oryn, you have to try this.’’ You tell your shield as he does his best to hide his clear disgust, staring at his feet. 
You put the stick on the table and leave the vendor, looking for your next target.
Oryn stutters, a bit distraught. ‘’That is rat, my lady.’’ 
You pretend to not care about that one bit. 
‘’Really? We have been missing out, then.’’ A cry from above makes both your heads turn, and a gigantic monstrous creature with wings as tall as trees flies over the town, casting a shadow over the vendors, blocking out the sun for a mere moment. 
Your heart stops beating for just one brief moment as you take in the majestic creature, soaring high above the skies, not a care in the world.
A dragon.
Your eyes widen at the sight. Oryn tackles you to the ground, protecting you with his body, from the dangerous dragon. ‘’My lady!’’ The dragon does not even notice you both, nor does its rider. The only ones who do notice you are the confused vendors and civilians. They already were suspicious of your strange golden coins, but now they are even more hostile. You get up from the dirty floors, feeling your scraped knees. Oryn mutters an apology as the dragon makes its way to the castle, without attacking anyone or anything. 
‘’A thousand apologies, my lady. I thought for sure…’’ You curse, certain that most of the glass jars and trinkets you bought are now just useless shards in your bag. You throw the glass shards out of your bag. 
Yet you understand why Oryn took the risk that he took. ‘’I understand. It does seem we made ourselves even more suspicious. My legs are tired, I think it is best we try to find a place to sit and to have a quick drink.’’
—-
Moments later, you are sitting in a strange but cozy room, with stone walls decorated with wood, paintings and tables that are still dirty from previous customers. The owner of the inn paid no attention to you, scowling the entire time as he took in your Dornish features, but accepted your money anyway. He is now polishing the same glass a dozen times over, when keeping a close eye on you and on Oryn. 
Oryn comes back to your shared table with a large plate filled with potatoes, chicken and something that smells familiar. ‘’Rat!’’ You grin from ear to ear, when taking his plate. Oryn watches in disgust as you devour the meat on your plate, before beginning to eat your vegetables as well. Oryn has a plate of his own filled with mostly meat as well, which he devours too.
There is something about King’s Landing that you  enjoy. Perhaps the simplicity of it all. You never felt more at home, so far away from home. The people of King’s Landing are interesting, unique folks with each a story to tell. You would pay a good coin to live here forever.
But your sworn shield has a bit more trouble adjusting himself. ‘’This is the capital. What do you think, Oryn?’’ You ask.
He thinks for a moment.‘’It smells.’’ He grumpily comments.
You roll your eyes, impaling another potato with your fork. ‘’Yes, but aside from that?’’
He sighs, deeply, looking around him in paranoia, failing to see the beauty you see. ‘’I don’t know, my lady. My gut tells me it was a bad idea to come here. My gut is never wrong.’’
‘’You’re just hungry.’’ You tell him with a smirk. You bring your cup of ale to his, cheering. ‘’We should celebrate our last trip together, before I become some lord’s property.’’
Yet Oryn has always been very protective of you. ‘’I still think this is a horrible idea. These people are at war with one another. They spill their own blood for a throne.’’He makes his voice soft.
You did hear about the civil war. There was a vendor at the square who sells silver-haired pillows and dolls to set on fire, pillows who are supposed to resemble ‘’Rhaenyra the cruel’’.
‘’Does that not intrigue you? Come on, where is your sense for adventure?’’ Part of you is joking. Another part is deadly serious.
‘’I lost that sense around the same time you were born.’’ He is jesting you can tell. He grabs your arms. ‘’Stay here. Don’t go with anyone, don’t tell anyone your real name. I need to piss.’’ He lets go of your arms, leaving you in the tavern. 
When you are alone, you can’t shake the fears that quickly take a hold of you. Fears about your future in Essos. Fears of bedding a strange much older man, having his children and never seeing Sunspear or Dorne again. Never playing with your siblings in the watergardens, never running from palace guards or feeling sand under your feet. A single tear rolls down your left cheek, reminding you of a simple truth: You are homesick, and soon you won’t even be welcome there anymore.
Before you briefly sigh, lost in wonder. What you wouldn’t give to be a dragon, flying far away from this place and to nest somewhere warm, close to home, protecting your loved ones. A man turns around, smiling at you. He speaks, exposing his rotten teeth. ‘’Excuse me, Miss. You seem not from here. I was wondering if you liked for me to show you around the city a bit?’’ You force yourself to smile. The man has dark hair and grins. ‘’I can bring you to a dragon. For a price.’’ You raise an eyebrow at him, not sure. You sigh, moving tables and show him your well stuffed wallet. He nods before opening his mouth.
The man takes you with him to the streets of King’s landing, far away from the tavern and the inn you were staying in. You see many dangerous cloaked types of all sorts of work, assassins and brothelworkers alike. The man chuckles at your discomfort. ‘’This way, my lady. I’ll bring you to a dragon.’’ The man tells you, keeping his voice steady when you begin to question if it wasn’t a bad idea to follow a strange man claiming to have a dragon. 
You stand still in front of an abandoned building somewhere close to what seems to be an orphanage. You regret not asking Oryn with you, he must be worried sick.
He gestures to the brown, wooden worn down door.  ‘’The dragon is in there.’’ He tells you.
You toss him a golden coin before nodding to the building. ‘’You go first, then.’’
The man laughs at you, before nodding and entering the building. You follow after, curiously looking around for any dragons. The building is too small to host the big one that flew over, but surely they got a dragon somewhere? You hope so. 
After looking around and the minutes and the rats pass you by, you begin to understand you made a grave mistake by trusting this stranger. Who knows what he wants from you? There are no dragons, for certain.
You run back to the door, but the man is faster. He grabs you by your arm, dragging you with him when you scream for help.
The man becomes annoyed with you, even hitting you to silence you across your face. ‘’Shut it, Dornish slut.’’ He warns you.
Chains are brought out and put around your hands, chaining you as some sort of animal. A door opens and a person makes themselves known by simply speaking. ‘’Gentle with her.’’ He speaks firm and clear, commanding the man. You chuckle in your head. Of course, this man was a ratcatcher. And you were his rat.
You briefly struggle in the chains as you are brought to the man, who remains where he is, not moving a inch as you are dragged over the moldy wood.‘’Who are you?’’ You demand, your voice unbowed, unbent, and unbroken.
He ignores you. He wears what seems to be castle forged armor, the pretty kind with golden details. But from where you stand you can’t see any of it. ‘’Put her on her knees.’’ He tells his pet.
The peasant obeys, forcing you to kneel before the man. You glare, infuriated by his treatment of you. Your scoff in disgust, refusing to beg or to cry for this pathetic man that would chain you up, instead of facing you with courage. The man nods to the peasant, hinting he may go now. The peasant leaves instantly. The man steps a bit closer, yet you can’t still make out his face, only hear his hypnotic voice. ‘’That is much better, now we can speak properly.’’ He says, as if you are long lost friends.
You take insult to that, and spit at his feet. He chuckles, not even slightly offended. ‘’O, Dornish temperament. I like it. I had a horse from Dorne, you know? I never liked the animal.’’ You don’t know why he is telling you of this, or why you are even here.
You grit your teeth. ‘’You would hate animals. Who are you?’’ He kicks against something, and you notice someone else laying face down next to you.
 You see a familiar sword, drenched in blood followed by a familiar head, cut from his body. Fresh tears burn in your eyes as you can’t believe what you are seeing right in front of you. 
‘’Oryn!’’ You cry out, trying to reach him. To your surprise, your attacker does not stop you, only watches as you shake the body of your sworn shield, and your friend. ‘’How is that possible? Oryn, wake up!’’ You beg, in tears as a little girl.
His scars and injuries betray he was severely tortured before, likely until he died. He died, protecting you. ‘’He is as dead as a doornail.’’ The man comments, not giving a fuck.
Whatever grief there is, is turned into rage before you can blink your eyes. ‘’You animal!’’ You vow revenge on him, in that very moment.
He chuckles, pulling the chain so you can’t move an inch. ‘’A-ah, Princess. I would most certainly advise against hurting me.’’ You are thankful for the lack of candles and daylight, because you are certain if he saw your face he would get suspicious. You tell yourself he doesn’t know. But he tortured Oryn. There is a chance he knows who you are.
He steps closer to you and you can finally make out the sharp long face that stares back at you, covered by a single eyepatch. But his hair is what terrifies you even more. Long, silver locks. ‘’You’re a Targaryen.’’ You stutter, as a foolish girl.
He grits his teeth, insulted. ‘’I’m insulted you don’t know who I am.’’ You huff at his boldness and rashness. How are you supposed to know who he is? Their names are as complicated as their lovely messed up family tree.
You raise a brow in rebellion, challenging him. ‘’Should I?’’
He makes a low, scoffing bow.
‘’Prince Aemond Targaryen.’’ You try to remember who that is, but you can’t really recall. He must not be a very famous or important Targaryen.
You blink, unfazed and unimpressed. ‘’Who?’’
Aemond scowls, offended once more and even deeper than the other time. ‘’Never even mind. I’m the brother of King Aegon.’’ You do know of Aegon. He sits on the throne. Well, one half of it. The other half is ruled by his sister, Rhaenyra.
You were interested in the war before but now that you are so close to it, you want to run. The Targaryen has other plans.
‘’You are far from home, little Dornish butterfly.’’ He murmurs, lifting your chin with his fingers. You notice there is blood on his fingers. ‘’Your daddy must miss you so dearly.’’ His voice is full of mockery and condescension. ‘’Little Princess.’’ He adds with a whisper in your ear, sending shivers down your spine when his hot breath runs down as fire on your collarbone. 
You gulp, as it becomes clear he certainly knows who you are. ‘’You have me mistaken for another.’’ You lie, smoothly. You lie dozens of times. "I'm a poor orphan, nothing special about me."
Aemond simply walks back to the walls, before bringing forward a portrait. The portrait was commissioned on your latest nameday, and was done extraordinarily well. As if you looked into a mirror. 
’Do I, Princess Elna of house Martell?’’He asks, pouting slightly, victory written in his good eye and a proud smirk on his lips.
You want to punch that man. You open your mouth, ready to tell him one horrible lie after the other.
But he doesn't let you talk. Not anymore. ‘’You can spare us both the energy: My men informed me the moment you were here when you set foot on shore.’’ they knew. All the time they knew you were here. They were likely waiting for an opportunity and took it.
And now, you are the prisoner of a Targaryen. The thing your ancestors fought so hard to avoid. ‘’What do you want with me?’’ You refuse to whimper or to let fear affect your voice. But your heart almost beats so loud he can hear it.
Prince Aemond Targaryen shrugs, putting the portrait away again. ‘’As luck would have it, I happen to be unmarried. I heard you were very unhappy in your arranged match.’’ He knows a lot about you, that information is very fresh.
You blink, smiling. ‘’Did you torture it out of my friend?’’ That must be it. He tortured your friend and shield and that is how he knows.
He sighs, as if he regrets something before shaking his head. ‘’No. He didn’t slip a word, not even when I had his eyeballs squeezed out. My compliments to whoever hired him. He was a lovely loyal man.’’ 
Your left eye twitches and you try once again to attack him. Aemond simply steps out of your reach, laughing when you try to hurt him with tears of rage and frustration rolling down both your cheeks.  ‘’I will kill you for that.’’ You promise him. You vow it to him in the honor of your house.
Aemond scoffs, as if you are a harmless little kitten he found in a gutter somewhere. ‘’Oh, dear. I don’t think you are in the position to make any threats.’’ You hear a clear warning there. There is a line with him and you better not cross it.
He adds with a soft whisper, brushing your cheeks with his mouth when he finds your ear.
‘’In fact, it looks awfully bleak for you." You have the horrible feeling he might do something unspeakable.
‘’I lack a wife.’’ He speaks, taking your breasts in, and smiling as if picturing himself deep inside of you. Your mind forms incorrect and disturbing images.
You feel as if you are naked. You pretend to feel fine. Unbroken. ‘’I imagine that you do.’’ You sweetly smile.
He ignores your jab. ‘’You lack a husband. It is quite the simple sum.’’ To males it always is. 
The answer leaves your mouth before you can think of the true consequences. ‘’I'd rather die. You want a whore, go buy one.’’
Aemond moves his mouth from your ears to your neck slowly nibbling on it when biting harder, just enough to make you whimper. He grins satisfied with the sounds. ‘’Hm. And witty too. I will have my work cut out for me, when I marry you.’’ You huff, confused as to why you liked what he did with you.
You can't believe you are playing this card but you must. ‘’You can’t, I’m betrothed to some spice lord, remember?’’ 
Aemond Targaryen changes from man to monster in front of you and chuckles, scoffing at your stupidity. ‘’You think I give a fuck about  promises?’’ He is right. The pact might as well not exist to Aegon’s kingdom, if anything they would be happy to thwart to avoid giving Dorne more power.
You look away, at a loss for words at the first time in your life. He grabs you by the throat, roughly before smirking deeply and disturbed. His eyes are empty and you see no humanity or kindness or any human emotions. ‘’You are still very naive, for a girl your age. Don’t worry. I’ll teach you soon enough.’’ You feel an unpleasant warmth spread between your legs as your mind begins to think of double meanings of learning how to be less naive.
But your heart bleeds for Oryn. You know you can't become Aemond’s wife for dozens of reasons. It will be a war. 
‘’What do you even hope to accomplish by marrying me?’’ You ask and you are terrified for the answer. You see the bloodlust and greed in his eye, brought out by your question.
Aemond answers, softly pecking you on your left cheek, causing you to blush deeply. He grins when moving his fingers over your face, caressing you gently. ‘’Why, conquering Dorne, of course.’’ 
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lexnskxnnedy · 11 months
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Bio:
Name: Leon Scott Kennedy D.O.B: unknown month/date, 1977 - somwhere in his mid 40's-50s Sex: Male Sexuality: Bisexual Height 5'11
RE2/4 plot summaries ( spoilers obviously )
Leon Scott Kennedy is an American of Italian descent currently employed as a federal agent by the Division of Security Operations (D.S.O.), a counter-terrorism agency with direct Presidential oversight. Kennedy is a known survivor of the 1998 Raccoon City Destruction Incident, then as a police officer. Following his escape, he was offered a job in a USSTRATCOM team devoted to anti-B.O.W. combat, and served it until 2011 in repeated operations around the world.
The first incident- Raccoon City Outbreak September 1998:
Rookie R.P.D. officer Leon S. Kennedy and Chris Redfield’s younger sister Claire both arrive in Raccoon City. After meeting and pairing up to survive a zombie attack, the two are almost immediately separated by a car accident, so Leon and Claire agree to meet up at the police department. Unfortunately, the building is also infested by zombies. Claire runs into Sherry Birkin, a young girl being pursued by a monstrous weirdo who turns out to be her Dad and Umbrella leading scientist, William Burkin.
Turns out William Burkin had planned to betray Umbrella and sell his new G-virus but was gunned down by Umbrella. Before dying, William managed to infect himself with the G-Virus and allowed the virus to spread into Raccoon City through the water system. Nice one, Willy.
Meanwhile, Leon runs into Ada Wong, an FBI agent who’s looking to obtain the G-Virus to prove Umbrella’s corruption. In the sewers Leon and Ada run into William’s wife Annette, who is… not a big fan of law enforcement, to say the least. Leon and Ada chase her to a secret Umbrella underground facility called NEST in pursuit of the G-Virus.
Claire also arrives at NEST in search of a vaccine for a now infected Sherry. Leon manages to obtain the G-Virus sample but runs into Willam, who in his freakish form mortally wounds his wife. Annette tells Leon that Ada is actually a mercenary who’s looking to sell the G-Virus to the highest bidder. Ada demands the G-Virus, But before Leon can hand it over, Annette manages to shoot Ada. She falls to her death, dropping the G-Virus sample.
Claire finds the vaccine and gives it to Annette to cure her daughter while she tangles with William. Sherry is cured, but Annette eventually dies of her injuries. The facility is set to self-destruct, and Claire and Sherry board a train to escape with Leon. With NEST destroyed, the crew finally manage to escape the nightmare and on the outskirts of Racoon City vow to continue their fight against Umbrella.
The Los Illuminados incident - 2004
Six years later Umbrella is long gone, due to a combination of government oversight and subsequent stock value crash – basically, the least awesome way possible.
Leon Kennedy, the once RPD rookie is now a government agent who’s sent on a mission to rescue the president's daughter, Ashley from her kidnappers in rural Spain. He discovers that not only are her kidnappers a cult called Los Illuminados, but they’re also all infected by a new mind-controlling parasite called Las Plagas.
During the rescue, Leon coincidentally bumps into his old flame Ada Wong, who is not dead and once again on the hunt for the virus.
After rescuing Ashley, Leon confronts the cult’s leader Saddler and, with the help of Ada, they manage to defeat him. Ada, once again showing her true colours, takes the Las Plagas sample and escapes via helicopter, but not before setting the base to – you guessed it – self-destruct.
Leon and Ashley manage to escape and Jet-ski their way home.
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world-of-airwatia · 3 years
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"The Dragon and The Slave." [Closed RP w/annasdirtyrps]
In a mysterious land, in a mysterious time, Anna once awakened in such a place alone, only to be snared up by a group of enslavers who find her to be a worthy price to sell to hopefully the highest bidder. Anna would be displayed in an auction, wearing nothing but see through lingerie as she was held by a chain. It was night alright, but there seems to be a special event happening... An event of the skies glowing green.
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"Bets are on! Starting at 1,000!" A slaver exclaimed to the crowd of bidders, which now the prices are proceeding to become high for someone to take Anna as their new plaything or whatever they got planned for her.
Prices were becoming large, with most bidders giving up, many except for... a mysterious woman with a cloak over herself.
"We got bids of 1 Million! Anyone gonna beat 1 Million?! Anyone, anyone, anyone?!" The slaver shouted until the woman raised her hand up high.
"Why not 200 Million?"
All bidders would appear stunned by the woman's bid, simply smirking at their reactions as the slaver would continue to speak.
"200 Million! Anyone got anything better than 200Ms?! Anyone, anyone, anyone?! Going once. Twice. SOOOLLLD to that young lady right there!"
@annasdirtyrps
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smokeymountaingal · 2 years
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She states she decided to play for China because she wanted to show young girls that they to could reach their dreams. So Gu. The last time I checked we had young girls in America. 🙄
Stop the bullshit. We know the only reason you chose to race for China is because 1. You knew how much more media coverage you would receive because YOU will be the only GOOD star freestyle skier for China. If you skied for the US you would have to share the platform with others. 2. Latest accounts are estimating you have/will receive from China and their corporate sponsors well over $500 million. You betrayed your country in order to prostitute yourself to the highest bidder. Finally, 3 There are even rumours and reports that the Chinese Government and yourself have gained sensitive information from Stanford and from the U.S. Olympic Committee. I don't have ANY clue of what that might be, I really hope and pray that EVEN you wouldn't stoop so low to compromise the safety of U.S.citizens. oh who am I kidding. You obviously have no morals.
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Your behavior and misinformation prove you are nothing but a traitorous, greedy,narcissistic @$$hole. No big deal. More power to you. However, where you really passed the point of no return with me was when you SAT THERE ON INTERNATIONAL TELEVISION SPOUTING ONE BULLSHIT LIE AFTER ANOTHER. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW PENG IS. HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?? HOW DARE YOU TRY TO SPEAK ON HER BEHALF! Are you seriously that stupid that you believe whatever garbage your Chinese Overlords tell you?? Have you spoken to her without a Chinese gun stuck to her head? Without recording devices listening in or Chinese guards looming over that poor woman? I doubt it.
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What message are you sending to those young girl out there? I got to tell you that brushing off rape and abuse allegations against men in power is NOT okay! Whether you are too dumb or you are just blinded by the money they threw at you, you have said with your actions and words that you CODONE abuse to women. As well as teaching those young girls that it is A OKAY to betray your country, and to sell your soul for the almighty dollar.
You should be ashamed of yourself. Whether Stanford takes you back or not is up to them. However,if I was a fellow student at Stanford I would be asking my school administration why my tuition is paying for a woman who cares NOTHING about human rights or betraying her country.
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aelloblu · 3 years
Text
Chiaki Abe || Sailor Sylvia
This Lovely Lady belongs to Sylvia of the Otaku Senshi Alliance, a lovely lady I had a lot of fun doodling her ideas. She was one of my first Colouring Book Edits for the longest time, getting into the swing of it. I do very much regret the boots. They're so off SM style, that lace... Arg! One day I might fix it....
╔═══════ ∘◦⛧ミ◦∘ ════════╗
Chiaki Abe || Sailor Sylvia
╚═══════ ∘◦ ミ⛧ ◦∘ ═══════╝
Belongs to Sailor_Sylvia
:Mission:
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Chiaki was a quiet girl in Nagano stargazing when a meteorite fell to Earth. Hoping to add it to her collection she followed its trajectory except instead of a smoldering rock at the heart of a crater there was a strange vase, depicting the likeness of a silver clad woman and a crescent moon. It bewitched Chiaki, causing strange feelings and memories to rise up inside her.
But suddenly a woman stood over her! She claimed to be Alabaster of the Eclipse Syndicate, dedicated to finding relics of the Golden Kingdom and selling them to the highest bidder. That vase was too powerful for a little girl so she better hand it over.
Suddenly a cat landed between them and dropped a pen. “Transform Sailor Sylvia!”
Now Chiaki is more than a little girl! She’s the Sailor Suited Guardian of the Stars, Sailor Sylvia. With her mooncat Pandora and the Moon Compass she must track down these strange relics of her past.
Each step leads her closer ‘the haul to end all hauls’. What is this Silver Crystal, why does the Moon Compass want to go to Tokyo and who is this Dark bidder who will do anything to get both?
╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
Civilian Form
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
:Name & Meaning:
Chiaki Abe. Chiaki means ‘a thousand lights’ and Abe means ‘Peace.’ She is the ‘Peace of A Thousand Lights’
:Age & Birthday:
Fourteen, born October 4th. This means her star sign is Libra and is ruled by the air element and ruled by the seventh house. It means that she builds relationships with others easily!
:Appearance:
Chiaki has pale creamy skin and silver-lilac eyes that sparkle with adventure. She pulls her long royal purple back into wavy purple pigtails that cascades past her waist. She’s outdoorsy and often dresses in sky colours. She is never without her prep-pouch filled with a compass, matches, a snack and camera because you never know what you’ll find.
:Personality:
Chiaki has an active and enthusiastic appreciation of nature and loves to share its beauty with others through her photography. She is often pestering her fellow Scouts with her photo albums or getting them to pose for the perfect group picture. Her favourite thing is to hike beyond the city to capture the night sky in all its glory.
Along with her photography she likes to draw star charts, practicing amateur astronomy and astrology which she will also talk the ear off anyone who will listen.
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:Likes:
Chiaki loves fresh air and open skies. If she isn’t camping, she spends her free time in the local parks snapping candid shots of the flora and wildlife. She hates cooking but her favourite meal is packet mac and cheese, with extra, extra cheese! She also has a sweet tooth for anything chocolate and there’s nothing better than a fire roasted s’more with sticky marshmallow and gooey chocolate running down her fingers.
She also spends her free time taking pictures. Her digital Lanon camera is a battered thing she takes everywhere and while she treats it rather absently, the memory cards inside are priceless which she protects because the memories are irreplaceable.
:Dislikes:
She isn’t a fan of crowds, she hates being squished and jostled and too much noise means you can’t hear her speak! She also hates avocados.
:Hobbies:
Chiaki's true love is the stars. She likes to perform amateur astrophotography and uses those pictures to chart their paths. The reason is she’s also a fan of astrology, but not those cheap newspaper horoscopes she scoffs at. Her first question when meeting new people is ‘What’s your birthday?’ Using her photos she calculates the degree of ascent, the rising of Jupiter in the House of Aquarius to plot out her week. Most people laugh, but sometimes they’re uncannily accurate.
:Family:
The Abe family is a relaxed family house, normal in every way.
Her father Tadaaki (brightness) works at a local observatory as an engineer helping with local satellites and from him Chiaki gets her love of the stars. She constantly teases him, begging him to borrow a satellite… just for a minute or two… for her astrophotography but he never has.
Her mother Ichika (A thousand flowers) is a lecturer at a college specialising in meteorology and weather, helpful for when Chiaki plans her camping trips.
She also has a little sister named Hikaru. Chiaki is very protective of Hikaru and Hikaru looks up to her big sister. She’s preschool and she likes to borrow Chiaki’s photographs and tries to redraw them.
:School:
Chiaki first goes to Vale Garden Private School, then transfers to TA Girl's Academy with Rei. She excels in physical education and is part of the photography club. She isn’t so good at maths and home arts so prepare for smoke in the kitchen and sowing herself to her knees!
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Relationships
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:Friends:
In Nagano her best friend is Nariko who prefers to spend her time in doors, but gets left behind when her family moves to Tokyo where she meets the Inner Scouts.
Although Chiaki is friends with all the Sailor Guardians most of her time with Rei. The priestess has a greater spiritual connection but Chiaki seems more lucky. The two sometimes compare star charts and fire readings to plot where the enemy will strike next. She’s a little too quiet for Chiaki but together they work as a team.
After the defeat of Beryl, Tokyo was attacked by the Black Moon Family where she met Chibiusa, Usagi’s daughter from the future. Both being full of curiosity and energy they got on well.
However her friendship with the Inners was tested when the Outers arrived. The Inners viewed them with suspicion but as her own planet lay between the Inners and Outer systems she felt it was her duty to extend the olive branch. She was frustrated by their willingness to sacrifice others for some ‘greater good’ that they didn’t understand, but knew their intentions were not selfish.
On the other hand she didn’t like the Starlights at all! Her hackles were raised and didn’t like them butting in on Sol System territory. She especially distrusts Seiya who’s always trying to impress Usagi and muscle in on Mamaru while he’s away.
:Love Interests:
Although she won’t admit it, she has a crush on Kaito who works the front desk at the Crown Parlor Arcade. He’s so serious and aloof, if only he’d smile more!
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╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
Sailor Sylvia
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
:Guardian Starseed:
Her starseed comes from the asteroid Sylvia, which thrived during the Silver Millenium. Ironically one of its biggest exports was avocados.
:Realm of Influence:
Stars, Astrology
:Past Life:
During her past life she was Princess Chiaki, heir to the throne of Sylvia and a brave protector of the Silver Kingdom. She followed Princess Usagi to Earth where she met Cuprite, a spy in the name of the Golden Kingdom. Although very serious, she’s sure he has a different side to him. He’s very curious about the Moon Kingdom.
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:Animal Guide:
An advisor to Princess Chiaki’s mother, Pandora was sent with Luna and Artemis to help find Sailor Sylvia. She’s a siamese cat, taller and more angular than her friends and more active in a battle, often skittering through the fray for a better view. She didn’t live on the moon and is considered blunt and unmannerly compared to Luna and Artemis.
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:Important Items:
The Sylvia Transformation Pen, a royal purple pen with the symbol of Sylvia on it.
The Moon Compass which reacts to relics nearby however when there are none it’s silver arrow points to Tokyo.
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:Henshin Phrase:
Sylvia Power Makeup!
As she holds her pen in the air a dark, gauzy veil filled with a nebular of stars sweeps around her body which is filled with all the beauty of the night sky. As the veil clings to her body it glitters with stars before forming her fuku. Finally she stands with her hands on her hips prepared to fight!
:Guardian Challenge:
"I am the Pretty Guardian Who fights for love and for freedom! I am Sailor Sylvia! In the Name of Sylvia, I’ll snuff out your light!"
:Guardian Fuku:
Sylvia wears the Sol fuku with royal purple as her primary colour and lilac as her secondary. Her earrings are star shaped studs with chains that dangle from them like a comet trail. Her boots are shortheeled and laced to midshin.
:Weapon:
After she receives her power up she commands the Sylvia Star Net which she uses to capture and subdue her enemies.
:Attacks:
Sylvia Star Ascension
Sailor Sylvia twirls, gathering starlight on the tips of all her fingers before flicking them at the enemy in a hail of energy, crashing to earth like a meteor shower.
Sylvia Bright Luminance
Sylvia brings her fingers together, pointer and thumb like a picture frame. She winks cheekily and sends a flash of light to blind the enemy… and anyone else who can’t cover their eyes fast enough.
Sylvia Astral Web
Sylvia gains the power up of the Sylvia Star Net. With a sweep of her arms the silvery net pitted with glowing stars at their anchors which captures the enemy and then bombards them with a furious nebula of starlight.
⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰
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rjzimmerman · 3 years
Link
To me, the selling of water rights, associated with the allocation of water to the “highest bidder” is offensive and immoral, even though it may be legal, particularly in parts of the country (or the world, if this is going on elsewhere) where water availability is a challenge. Our government set this process in motion decades ago, but that doesn’t mean that the laws surrounding water use can’t be changed. It won’t be easy, but it has to be done. I’m increasingly pissed off when basic human needs are commodified for the benefit of Wall Street and other money centers.
Excerpt from this New York Times story:
Transferring water from agricultural communities to cities, though often contentious, is not a new practice. Much of the West, including Los Angeles and Las Vegas, was made by moving water. What is new is for private investors — in this case an investment fund in Phoenix, with owners on the East Coast — to exert that power.
In the West, few issues carry the political charge of water. Access to it can make or break both cities and rural communities. It can decide the fate of every part of the economy, from almond orchards to ski resorts to semiconductor factories. And with the worst drought in 1,500 years parching the region, water anxiety is at an all-time high.
In the last few years, a new force has emerged: From the Western Slope of the Rockies to Southern California, a proliferation of private investors like Greenstone have descended upon isolated communities, scouring the driest terrain in the United States to buy coveted water rights.
The most valuable of these rights were grandfathered in decades before the population explosion in desert cities like Phoenix and Las Vegas, and privilege water access to small, often family-owned farms in stressed communities. Rechanneling water from rural areas to thirsty growth spots like Queen Creek has long been handled by municipal water managers and utilities, but investors adept at sniffing out undervalued assets sense an opportunity.
As investor interest mounts, leaders of Southwestern states are gathering this month to decide the future of the Colorado River. The negotiations have the potential to redefine rules that for the last century have governed one of the most valuable economic resources in the United States.
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phenomenal1500 · 3 years
Text
Heaven On Hold | Peaky Blinders
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Chapter 42: Goodbye Tommy
For Chapter 41: What A Gentleman | Part 2 check here.
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"It's okay." Luca waved his friend's hand away who wanted to give his boss the paper and creepily laughed at the two of us. "Mr. Solomons, Miss. Grey, I'm gonna be very fucking clear with you. I don't need you two to kill anybody. I have people that I trust, okay? So you two are gonna take my boys and you are gonna bring them to the ring as seconds."
~~~
We had it handled; Alfie would take Luca's converted men to the fancy duel my cousins had organised and I would follow, being the one who would bring them home safe.
There was no turning back....
I had reverted to my old ways and I was ashamed of it.... but yet I chose the highest bidder over family.
Something I was raised to do.
The audience was thrilled, their voices tried to shout harder than others like dogs and their consciences knew nothing.
Alfie and I strolled through the dark hallways.
He and I had entered through the back, his cane now echoing through the place every time he took a step with it while I had faded into his shadows. The crowd was cheering so loud you could hear it through the walls where we were and it faded the more we walked away from the battle.
The next turn to the left would be the last time I would see someone from my family ever again.
The one I would meet on the other side was the most important family member of the Shelby's, the one who gave me back my humanity.... well, whatever was left of it.
Step for step we approached the dressing room that smelled like sweat and fear and Alfie entered first.
He spotted Tommy in front of him and he walked past the blue eyed man, taking a seat on the opposite sides of the small benches where Tommy was sitting.
I followed, not making eye contact with any of the two before I leaned against the wall next to Alfie.
Tommy in the meantime held his head low, watching his feet and blinking in silence.
"Yeah, you're like me, Tommy, you can't bear to watch a fight which has got rules." Tommy's eyes shot up and quietly rested on mine before switching his attention to the man that was talking. "Tommy, right, imagine.... imagine that you could not see.... at all, you was born blind. Then one day you open up your eyes and you can see everything in the world. When before you could only touch it or smell it. There it is. The revelation. Innit? I've had one." Alfie waved with his cane through the air as he watched Tommy from underneath the brim of his neat fedora. "Yeah, saw a beautiful house down in Margate. Great big white building.... monkey puzzle tree against a sky of blue. Beautiful. A piece of heaven." A small silence fell over us and Tommy inhaled his cigarette before Alfie continued.
"Actually, you see, the way the earth, it's curves, I thought to myself, 'Alfie, what are you doing? What are you doing?' Why don't you just sell every ounce of gold and sell every barrel of rum you got and just buy yourself some time, mate?' I need to buy myself some time." The gangster nodded to himself.
"You're moving to Margate?" Tommy interrupted his story with a sad tone and somehow I could see regret and guilt in his eyes every time he looked up.
They had seen each other as real friends once.
"I am actually, yeah, with my sweet girl over there. We need to get ourselves some rest. We need some rest." Alfie watched the ground for a brief second. "Plus, the Americans are here now, aren't they? So, that's it. Yeah. It's been that way ever since the war, innit? The Americans. Big fucks small. Always, actually. Hmm? And there is a fight going on, out there, between big and small." Alfie pointed at the wall in front of him with his brown cane, pointing at the way the fight was actually taking place. "Big will fuck small. Right. Margate then. Blue skies, heaven." He stood up slowly, walking up to Tommy and I pushed myself from the wall to join him. "I will see you, Tommy. By the pier."
"Stay and watch the fight, Alfie, Rio?" Tommy whispered, his cigarette sticking between his lips.
"No, you're all right. I already know who wins. Don't I?" I blinked a few tears away and held up my chin when Alfie turned around to walk away. "Cheer up."
"Goodbye Tommy." I whispered before following the gangster into the darkness of the hallways never to be seen or heard from again.
Perhaps it was for the better for both sides if Alfie and I retired, having a nice house in Margate so we weren't able to bother anyone else.
It had been multiple long years choosing sides and I was finally done with that.
I wouldn't choose.
I couldn't choose.
They stayed family and he stayed my lover so I did what was best, retreating myself from the fight.... from everything that had influenced me in the past few years and hide in the familiar shadows so I could think about the best thing to do.
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buckysmischief · 4 years
Text
what’s up danger? - 2
elevate
Peter Parker x reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: sexual innuendos, mention of death (if you squint)
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
🕷🕸
It had been over a month since that night at Peter’s apartment and you had been thinking about what he had been trying to get you to do for the past year, talk to Nick Fury and Tony Stark. Did he really want you to join the avengers? Was it just a trick to arrest you? Couldn’t be, if they wanted you arrested they would have done it when Peter bound your hands.
Over the past few weeks you’ve hung out with Peter often. It probably wasn’t the best idea in the world, but you’ve felt a sudden pull toward him ever since the day in the weapons vault. You decided to see if you could trust him enough to show him your powers, then you would decide what to do about the offer.
It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Peter, it just made you uncomfortable that he could track you. No one in SHIELD, or even the Avengers, had ever been close enough to you to even get a dna sample. So how did Peter find a way to do it?
You had to get Spider-Man’s attention, lure him out and confront him. If he wants you to trust him he’d be willing to tell you what you wanted to know, right? You had to cause a scene, and you had the perfect idea.
Twenty minutes later you ran out your door and into the elevator, almost crashing into Peter. “Hey Yn, where are you going?”
“Just to the store, need to get stuff for dinner.”
“Without an umbrella?” Peter tried not to laugh, “You’re going to get soaked.”
“Probably, but it won’t be because of the rain.” you said with a wink. Hopefully flirting will distract Peter from your hand movements like Spider-Man, turns out it does. When you waved your hand as the elevator door opened, the rainy view changing into clear skies before stepping out of the building.
A moment later, Peter gets a message on his watch, “It’s Aunt May, I gotta go. Do you wanna come over tonight?”
“Yeah, I’ll cook us both something then.” you give him a hug and begin your walk to Times Square.
You arrive and blend in with the crowd watching the updates on the many different screens.
With a slight wave of your hands the messages all disappear, and turn into messages to Spider-Man.
“Come out, come out wherever you are”
“Come find me, Spidey”
“Is this real?”
“Tag! You’re it”
Once the messages have been up long enough for him to see it, you walked to the roof of one of the buildings and waited. To your surprise, he was already there.
“Is that how you’re getting my attention now?” Spider-Man said while walking towards you.
“Well, if I knew how you always find me, maybe I could get it more.. privately.”
“Have you ever thought that maybe you make it easy, kinda like you want me to find you?” he’s close again, feel his breath on your ear through his mask close.
“That may be true, but I don’t let you do anything. How do you always find me?” you demanded.
He takes a moment to think, “If I tell you, will you show me how you change reality?”
What kind of negotiation was that? He could have said you had to give Fury five minutes of your time and you would have agreed. “Fine, yeah. Watch this.”
The beautiful clear sky you had created was changed back into its original state, dark and rainy, with just a wave of you hand. You don’t miss the way Peter never takes his eyes off of them either. “Your turn, Spidey.”
“That was amazing. You just, what, think of something and you make it so?” after getting to know Peter more, that question came more from him than Spider-Man.
“I guess that’s one way of explaining it,” the setting changing once again, this time to what seemed to be an abandoned building near the Brooklyn bridge, “so can you give me an explanation on how you’re my professional stalker?”
You led him into the building, which Peter soon realized was being camouflaged with your powers, and sat down at the nearest table. “Do you know anything about how you got your powers?” you shook your head, “Do you know what the reality stone was?” again, no.
“Thanos?”
“Who doesn’t know about Thanos, what’s he got to do with me?” Peter had then answered every question you’ve ever had about your powers. About the Dark Elves and the Aether. What happened to Jane only days after you got your powers, and how Thanos manipulated reality to help him over power the avengers and wipe out half of existence.
One of the nights you were with Peter, the blip was mentioned and told him you were apart of it. How you were in class, trying not to fall asleep, when your teacher turned into a pile of dust. Your whole class began to panic when you and a few others began to do the same, then it was like nothing happened. But in reality, one you couldn’t even change, everything had happened. Life went on.
Peter only shared that he too was a victim of the blip, but you knew the truth. After coming back and realizing five years had passed, you caught up on everything you missed. While you were reading about how Tony Stark almost lost his life after defeating Thanos, you found separate articles on all the heroes and read those as well.  
“And then Mr. Stark enhanced my tech with the ability to locate you by the energy the aether puts off.” he finishes, waiting patiently to be questioned further.
“Wait, so every time I use my powers.. you what? Know my exact location?” you think back to earlier that day when you used your powers to stop the rain, Peter almost immediately got a notification. “Do you know who I am?”
“If I knew who you were don’t you think I-”
“Tell the truth, Spidey.” you teased, “I mean, I know who you really are under that mask.”
Peter stood up and shook his head, “I don’t believe you.”
“Awe c’mon Petey, I’d never lie to you.”
“How-” he began, stopping to take his mask off, “how long did you know? Why didn’t you ever say anything, Yn?”
You took down your illusions, showing him your face. “You want to know the truth or can I make up a more interesting story?”
Peter wasn’t mad that you knew his identity, he was relieved. But that didn’t make him less curious. “Let’s go get stuff for dinner and you can tell me the truth on the way.”
The rain soon stopped and you both began your walk back to Queens, stopping at the grocery store to pick up a few ingredients you didn’t have at home. There was only a few more blocks left to walk when you decided to tell him about the first night MJ had yelled his secret loud enough for you to hear.
“How come you never said anything?” Peter inquired.
You told him the truth, that it was an unfair way to learn his secret. When you first learned of his identity, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about selling the information to the highest bidder, but that required proof. There was no way to provide it without your identity being leaked as well. Which was also why you could never use it to taunt him in a fight. “So, how come you never told me you knew who I really was?”
“I wanted you to eventually trust me enough to tell me yourself. My mission was never to catch you, it’s to get you to talk to Fury for five minutes.” he paused as you both walked the apartment complex’s halls, starting again after walking into his apartment, “I do have a question or two though that I’ve been dying to know since finding out about you.”
“Go for it.”
“First, how did you find out you had powers?” Peter was leaning over your counter in anticipation.
“I don’t remember how I got them exactly, but at some point during the trip I had wanted to go home so badly. I went to sleep that night in London and woke up in my bed in New York with an insane amount of missed phone calls from my teacher. After that I started to realize I could make things happen exactly how I wanted, it was amazing.” you explained. “So, what’s your second question?”
Peter never didn’t miss a beat, “Why did you choose to use your powers to steal things instead of helping people?”
There was no judgement in his words, just curiosity. This was what you like about Peter; he obviously never cared about your past, he just cared about you, Even before he really knew you. He said his mission was never to catch you but there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that if they sent and other Avenger, you would be locked up until you agreed to work with them.
Peter was different, so you were honest, “I did help people, before the blip. I practiced my powers by giving homeless people a place to sleep, keep my friends and family safe if I had to. After coming back though, everything was different. My family was broken in ways I never knew imaginable, all of my friends outgrew me, the whole world was different. I couldn’t change reality to fix all of those things without more bad things happening, so I changed it to better my life.
I started out by robbing a bank to get a place to live, made the guy selling this apartment see a family instead of just me. Then I used them to get food and clothes. Over time I started to not care anymore and figured I could make more money just stealing things for people, so that’s what I did.”
“None of that was your fault, Yn. I’m sure if Thanos never happened you would have been recruited, you still can be if you wanted.” he insisted.
“Did they tell you about the one time I was sloppy?” Peter shook his head and waited for you to continue, “I was inside of a bank safe when SHIELD agents surrounded me, I forgot to make it look like everything was normal. They had these weird guns pointed at me and I panicked. I knew I should have just changed their weapons to water guns, but instead I thought ‘just go away’ and erased them from our reality entirely.”
Peter could tell that it wasn’t a topic you wanted to talk about so he let it go, but not before he wrapped his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. He then turned on some music and began cooking dinner, insisting that he help.
During dinner, and even more so during the movie, Peter seemed distracted. You couldn’t blame him, a lot has happened in the past few hours, he was probably just processing. As the credits started rolling, you stood to clean up your mess and leave.
“Well I better-”
“Can I-”
“You go.” you say to Peter.
“Can I try something?” you nod your head in response, and Peter begins to walk toward you.
“Tell me to stop,” he pauses, placing one hand on the nape of your neck and the other under your bottom lip, “cause everything changes after this.”
A few seconds go by, he’s so close you can feel his breath. You give a quick nod and Peter’s mouth is on yours instantly, kissing him back after realizing this was real.
You’ve kissed people before, but kissing Peter was different. It was like coming home. Like every answer to all your questions have been answered, like you had everything you ever needed.
Peter was right, everything was going to change.
🕷🕸
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Series tags: @stateoflovinged @rogue-of-sound
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cordonia-continued · 4 years
Text
Captivated
Chapter 16
AU- TRR Liam x MC (Riley Taylor)
A/N - Set after the Tariq scandal is cleared. Liam ends his engagement to Madeleine and proposes to MC as per the original story, but Riley turns him down. This AU follows their life from then on.
Chapter Summary -  Madeleine brings some unwelcome paparazzi photos to Liam’s study. 
Word count - 1,805
@kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @amandablink @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30​ @mom2000aggie​
catch up here
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Madeleine's mouth is dry as she approaches the Kings study. She’s not worried about the damage the content of the photos that are clutched in her hand could do to Riley’s reputation, she couldn’t care less about Riley Taylor and her stupid little celebrity life she’s created for herself. No, Madeleine’s worry is that Liam will somehow blame her for showing them to him, shoot the messenger so to speak, especially after her last visit to his office with the article on the front page of the tabloid, he had well and truly put her in her place. Her hope is that he'll see that plebeian waitress for what she really is, and she'll keep showing him until he leaves the common little tart and the crown can be hers again. And so she made her plan, quickly. As soon as she met Jacob Henley Madeleine saw it all at once in her mind’s eye, the way she saw all of her plans. She saw what she needed to do, the only thing to do.
She takes a deep steadying breath as she raises her hand, it hesitates for just for a fraction of a second before she knocks confidently on the imposing wooden door.
“Come in.” He orders. She puts her manicured hand on the door knob, slowly turning it. She walks in and closes the door behind her. Liam's head is bent over his desk looking down at a document in front of him, she can tell from the flourish of the fountain pen in his hand that he’s signing something. He raises his eyes briefly to her before looking back down and continuing to write. He speaks without looking up. “Madeleine what can I do for you?” His voice is professional and cold.
“Your Majesty.” She curtsies even though he’s not looking at her. “Liam, I have something I need you to see.”
He raises his head to look at her and nods once. She approaches his desk and holds out the photos towards him. He takes them from her and briefly flicks through, glancing at each one in turn.
“Where did you get these?” He asks, his tone not changing at all.
“A contact at The Citizen sent them to me. I’ve managed to halt their release, for now. I don’t know yet if there are other copies but I think I’ve managed to control the situation for the time being. I’m hoping this will be the end of it, I had to pay the photographer off to ensure that he didn’t try and sell them on to the highest bidder. And he’s been issued with an NDA.”
A muscle twitches involuntarily at the corner of Liam’s right eye, his mouth forms a rigid grimace. He stands from his desk, folding his arms tightly across his broad chest as he turns his back towards Madeleine, not wanting her to see his anger. He taps his foot furiously and stares out of the large lead lined window behind his desk.
“Why did you bring them to me?” He asks her not turning around.
“I thought you would want to know.” She shrugs nonchalantly.
“Have you shown them to anyone else? Do you have any more copies?”
“No and no.” She walks over to him and places her hand gently on his arm. She softens her voice in what she hopes comes across as a soothing, warm and friendly tone. “Liam, I did warn you.” His muscles stiffen under her touch.
“Thank you Madeleine, that’ll be all.”
“Liam, I’m sorry. But you know it’s for the best. It's better that you know about this before heaven forbid you ever marry her.”
“Madeleine, I’m sure there’s an innocent explanation. We both know that photos aren’t always what they appear to be." He raises his chin defiantly.
“It seems Lady Riley is often getting caught in compromising situations that aren’t what they seem to be.” She raises an eyebrow back at him.
“Get out now!” He shouts at her. Her red lips curl up into and unbecoming smirk.
“Don’t be like that Liam. I’m here for you if you want to talk about it?”
She moves over to the drinks cabinet and picks up a crystal decanter of scotch. She pours out two fingers into a tumbler and hands it to him. Liam eyes her warily and takes the glass from her outstretched hand. He remains standing staring out of the window and sips the smooth oaky liquor, welcoming its warm heat coursing down his throat.
“I don’t want to talk about anything with you Madeleine.” He replies sternly. She expected this. She doesn’t let his coldness put her off.
“Even if I promise not to gloat.” She pouts her red plump lips tantalisingly at him. He can’t help but smile at her persistence and lets out a sigh. He turns and picks up the photographs from his desk once again, this time he looks through each one slowly, trying to read into what it is that he’s seeing.
“When were they taken?” He asks in a quiet voice. Madeleine again places her hand on his arm, this time at his elbow, and guides him down onto his leather couch, sitting close next to him.
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask too many questions. I didn’t want them to think we were that interested, considering you and her aren’t official. It would only add fuel to the fire.” She shrugs. “Liam, I hate to say I told you so but...”
He cuts her off before she can finish.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to gloat.” He raises his eyebrows at her and his lips rise into a small smile. She laughs and puts a hand on his knee. He looks at her questioningly.
“Look, I know you had feelings for her. But this proves that she’s not part of our world. She’s not good enough for you or for Cordonia.” She rubs her manicured hand up his thigh and smiles at him seductively, she takes a deep breath in, knowing that the act pushes her ample breast that are spilling over the cups of her bra out even further. “We can start again – you and me. We can make it work this time.” She purrs lightly tickling her fingers further up towards his groin. He waits a beat, enjoying the feel of her warm hands inching closer to his crotch before he pushes her hand away and downs his drink in one.
“Madeleine I’ve told you before. It’s not happening. I love Riley. She loves me. This is nothing. It doesn’t prove anything.” He waves the photos at the countess. “Now if you don’t mind, I have work to do.” She rises from the couch and stands in front if him. Aware that her full breast are mere inches away from his face she leans down and kisses him slowly and gently on the cheek, being sure to brush up against him with her chest as she does so. She’s sure she sees his face pinken and him shift in his seat as she rises back up.
“Of course Your Majesty.” She turns on her heel and sashays out of his office smiling triumphantly.
Liam sits on his couch contemplating what’s just happened as he runs his finger around the rim of his empty glass. He picks up his mobile phone and presses on Riley's name.
"Hi Liam." she answers happily.
"Hello my love. What are you up to?" He questions.
"Just in the city shopping for a dress for the Summer Ball with Maxwell, I'm meeting Jacob at his office after to go through a few contracts that have come in from some of the TV stations in the US, and to choose what charities to support at upcoming events." He bristles and feels his jaw tighten at the mention of Jacobs name.
"Is Maxwell going with you?" He asks casually.
"No, Bertrand wants him back by two to go through the budget with him, I think he's concerned Max has been spending too much on jet skis or something." She laughs and feels a hint of concern when he doesn’t laugh back. "Why, is something up?"
"What are your plans for tonight? I was hoping we could meet up?" He asks.
"I thought you had a dinner meeting with the French ambassador?" Riley creases her brow in confusion. Her attention is then caught by Maxwell picking up a pair of pants and holding them up to himself in the mirror. Liam hears her on the other end of the line hiss “Maxwell no! No one can get away with leather pants at a ball, not even you and your pert little ass.” And he can’t help but chuckle to himself.
"Yeah I have but I could meet you after, I can be finished by 9."
"Liam, we both know that dinner with the French Ambassador can go on until the small hours, the man can drink Drake under the table, and that’s no easy feat! And anyway Jacob mentioned grabbing a bite to eat after our meeting, there's a trendy new wine bar he wants to show me in the city. By the time I've got back it won't be worth it. I'll see you tomorrow night, we've got the National Film Awards remember? I'll come to the palace early so we can go together. Drake has refused to come and Maxwell is taking Penelope as his plus one as she's in town."
He lets out a sigh. He was already dreading the dinner meeting with the tedious ambassador who has a penchant for overindulging in excessive amounts of red wine, only matched by his penchant for indulging in impossibly young mistresses. He would no doubt spend the night bragging to Liam about them with gratuitous vulgarity. Now with his mind whirling about Riley and what’s she up to with the annoying and conceited Jacob all night, it’s going to be torturous.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever." He can’t help but keep the whine from his voice.
"I hate to say it Liam but that's what happens when you're The King, you can't just sack off work to go out on a date." She laughs again, and again he doesn’t.
"Yeah I guess so. I'll see you tomorrow then...Riley, I love you."
"Yeah you too.” Liam can hear in her voice that she’s once again distracted. “Max says hi, in fact he actually says can you convince Bertrand that peacocks are a necessary Duchy expense? I can't see you agreeing with that one but I said I'd pass on the message. I gotta go before Maxwell buys another sequinned jacket, I'll see you tomorrow night."
She hangs up the phone leaving Liam with a racing mind and heart. He opens his desk draw and slips the photographs face down inside, closing it firmly.
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iwhumpyou · 4 years
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BTHB: All The Other Reindeer
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Rose is requested, Origami Rose is filled.  As a reminder, anyone can request any square, any OC, any universe!
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@whumps-the-word​ This one was a bit tricky, which is why it took so long - I tried to get the sense of ‘otherness’ that the trope implied, but I don’t know if it worked.
(Taglist: @smileevenwhenyoudontfeellikeit​ for Raider!verse.)
This takes place after the events of the Good Cop/Bad Cop request fill (poor, poor Riya, never getting a moment to rest).
Masterlist.  Raider.
~#~#~#~#~#~
The first thing Riya noticed was that the flowers on the ceiling weren’t moving.  They drooped in place, withered and brown and the whole field looked dead. 
She wondered how Killian knew what Lee’s bedroom looked like, but suppressed the thought immediately. His illusions were still pathetic, a pale imitation of reality.
She was surprised to see that the chains had been removed, though the illusion wouldn’t have lasted a second with them.  She was just…disconcerted by the thought that Killian seriously believed that she would be so off-kilter by this latest illusion that she would stay in place.
She needed to get out before she found whatever creepy surprises he’d left for her.
She slowly pushed herself upright, unwilling to look around the room and find out how many details he’d gotten wrong – or right.  It was slow going.  The cuts had been bandaged, but her muscles were jittery and she was tired, like she hadn’t slept in days.
The door was open, and she hobbled out as silently as she could manage, grasping walls and furniture to stay upright.  It certainly looked like Lee’s apartment, but Riya wasn’t checking too closely.  Every familiar item sent a jolt of hope through her – hope she could ill-afford.
The apartment was silent and no one attempted to bar her way.  She grabbed a cane from the side table to help her unsteady balance.  The front door was where it was supposed to be and Riya hesitated, her fingers hovering over the doorknob.
It could be a trick. Killian could be on the other side of the door, laughing at her for falling for it.  Crushing her brief, desperate hope into pieces to break her.
She swallowed and turned the knob.  It opened out into stairs, and Riya followed them down and out, emerging out into the open air.
She didn’t dare look back.  She needed to get as far from here as possible.
Killian’s illusions didn’t affect the mind, only the surroundings.  And he didn’t have the power to affect a change on this level – the coarse brick under her fingers was real, the rain pouring from the skies was real, the uneven pavement under her stuttering footsteps was real as she kept walking.
She stifled a gasp as someone roughly shouldered past her, the movement flaring the aches of bruises and cuts, and she half-collapsed against a building, panting heavily.  The skies were dark and grey and the light was fading fast.  She didn’t know where she was – she couldn’t recognize the buildings around her, and they all had a run-down look.  There were only a few people on the streets. 
She hurt.  She hurt everywhere – her muscles ached, cramping and sore, and every time she closed her eyes she could see Killian in front of her, electric baton in his hand, smiling as she writhed and choked and screamed.
She didn’t know where to go. She slumped further against the wall, tilting her head, and the warm drops spilling down her cheeks mingled with the rain.
She couldn’t go back to headquarters.  All her friends and allies had been raiders, and she hadn’t told a soul that she’d shifted her support.  The Council wanted her gone and her family wanted her dead.  Killian was probably already searching for her, his power base growing by the day.
She couldn’t go back to Lee, couldn’t beg the Witch Chief to keep her safe.  Lee had other problems to deal with, had a month of confusion and chaos to sort out, had alliances to rebuild and reassure after her brief stint of being powerless.  Ekaterina hated her, and Tanner had the vampires to lead. 
No.  Going back would put targets on their heads, and while Lee and Tanner could take care of themselves, it would undoubtedly make their lives more difficult.  She couldn’t do that to them.
She knew the consequences when she had sent the letter.  She knew them and accepted them.  Riya breathed out slowly and struggled upright.
The rain seemed to weight her limbs, dragging her down even further as she limped forward.  The cane helped immensely, but what she really needed was a knife.
She had nowhere to go and no one to turn to.  At the very least, she could end it with her own hands.
It would keep her out of Killian’s hands forever.  He could be inventive, when he wanted to be, and Riya knew she wasn’t far from breaking.
She lifted her head, staring at the darkness above her as raindrops skittered across her face.  She had never been a fan of the rain – the cold, the damp, the mud.  But it was fitting now.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and deliberately didn’t think of who she was apologizing to.
She tilted her head back down and shuffled forward, one hand pressed against the wall as her legs grew weaker with every step.  She didn’t know where she could get a knife – but a broken bottle might do just as well, she realized, stopping at the mouth of an alleyway.  There was sure to be some in there.
She had barely taken a step inside when a figure called out, “Are you okay?”  She ignored them – even exhausted and trembling, she was still stronger than a human and she didn’t care to be stopped – but then a crack of lightning flashed across the sky. 
And off red eyes.
Shit.  She took a half-second to be thankful that it wasn’t Tanner as the vampire approached. She was holding an umbrella and staring at her in bewilderment.
And then Riya’s sluggish thought processes remembered that nearly every supernatural creature in this city wanted her dead and she stumbled a step back.  She couldn’t fight off a vampire.
“No, I’m not going to hurt you!” the vampire said, holding out her hands and approaching more cautiously, “Are you hurt?  Can I help?”
Riya wanted to laugh at that.  “No,” she said roughly.  Unless they could restore her to the Council, give her back her job, and end Killian, nothing would help.
“You need to get out of the rain,” the vampire said, coming closer.  Riya took another step back, and hit the brick wall.  “You’re soaking wet.  Aren’t you cold?”
No.  She was numb.  She’d been cold since she got trapped underneath a fallen warehouse and realized that no one would care if she died there.
“I can help,” the vampire said, even closer, extending the umbrella to cover them both, “I know somewhere where we can get out of the cold.  They’ll help you, I promise.”
Riya weighed her options as exhaustion creeped ever closer – on one hand, she couldn’t fight the vampire off, even well-meaning as she was.  On the other hand, looking wet and bedraggled was a pretty thin disguise.  All it would take is one person to call Killian and she would end up right back where she left.
The choice was taken out of her hands as the vampire slowly reached out and gently grasped her wrist. “Come on,” she said, low and soothing, like she was talking to a stray animal, “Let’s get out of the rain.”
Riya let the vampire lead her through the streets, holding her up whenever she faltered.  All she needed was one opportunity to break away.
But she was so tired.  The vampire’s grip and the cane were the only things keeping her upright.  If she tried to struggle free, she’d end up in a heap on the ground.
The vampire led her to what looked like an abandoned warehouse and Riya abruptly realized where they were, panic spiking.  This was Sherwood.  Raiders didn’t patrol here.  The Witch Chief didn’t police here.  This was the haven of outlaws and mercenaries, a no man’s land where all manner of supernatural creatures mingled.
They wouldn’t call Killian if they recognized her.  No, they would sell her to the highest bidder.
Riya couldn’t break free of the vampire’s grasp before they passed through the doors – it certainly didn’t look abandoned now; it was an explosion of light and warmth and color, at sharp contrasts to the wet misery outside.
She tilted her head and let her wet hair swing forward to partially cover her face.  She didn’t have a better disguise.
“Here,” the vampire smiled and unearthed a blanket from somewhere, and Riya used it to hide her face further, “I’ll see if I can find some hot food for you!”  She pushed Riya onto an empty stool before disappearing into the crowd. 
It was…not what she was expecting.  Instead of drugs and alcohol and all manner of taboos being broken, it was warmth and food and community.  All forms of the supernatural mingled and talked and laughed.  It was nothing like what the Council had painted it as, nothing like the warnings they’d been given and the rumors that spread.
There was a bitter feeling in her stomach.  The Council had been wrong to deny the rights of the different subsets of the supernatural – she knew that.  But they were still – they – their knowledge –
Were they wrong about everything?
“Here, I brought you some food!” the vampire returned with a tray, and leading – that was a familiar face and one Riya was not prepared for.
Freya smiled at her and Riya huddled further in the blanket and didn’t meet the ex-raider’s eyes.  “Are you human?” the vampire asked, “Or something else?”
“Something else,” Riya said roughly.
“And what flavor of something else, darling?” Freya said, amused, stepping closer.
Riya could pinpoint the exact moment she realized.  Her face shuttered for a long moment, before amusement of a different kind crept over.
“Well, well, well,” Freya said, a dark edge in her tone.  She reached up – and Riya instinctively flinched back – to yank the blanket off.  “Look what the cat dragged in.”
The vampire was staring at her in confusion, but Freya’s words had caught the attention of the nearest people and Riya could see recognition begin to dawn on their faces.
She swallowed, frozen to the spot.  There was nowhere to run.  And even if there was, she couldn’t run.
“Dearest friends,” Freya said, louder this time, and the murmurs of conversations died out, “How honored are we.  The head raider herself has come to visit our humble abode!”
Riya set her jaw in that moment of shocked silence, and met Freya’s hateful gaze as a low hiss began to spread.
“I am impressed,” Freya said, slowly clapping her hands, “I never thought you spineless cowards would ever dare to venture here.”  Behind her, the vampire who’d found her was looking at her with a mixture of fear, fury, and betrayal.
Riya hadn’t asked for this either.
“I’m not the head raider,” Riya said, wincing when her voice came out hoarse and weak, instead of strong and confident.  She met Freya’s gaze and did not waver.  She hadn’t faltered in front of Killian, and she wouldn’t here.
“You’re not?” Freya looked at her with fake concern, “Oh, dear, did they demote you?  Is that why you’re here?  Looking to get some glory to claw your old position back?”
Riya shivered under the weight of a hundred furious glares.
“I’m not a raider anymore,” she managed – she hadn’t been to the official excommunication, but it was pretty obvious to infer, especially after four hired thugs had tracked her down and beaten her into the ground.
Freya laughed at that, long and hard.  “You actually expect me to believe that?” she asked, incredulous, “You’re such a stickler for the rules that I wouldn’t be surprised if the Council handbook was permanently lodged up your ass.” Freya stalked closer and closer, until Riya had no choice but to get off the stool and force herself upright, facing the angry ex-raider.  “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”
“I told you –” Riya started.
“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Freya snarled, cutting her off.  She shifted forward and all Riya saw was a hand coming forward, an electric baton crackling, ready to send current surging through muscles that were spasming in aftershocks, as her body locked up in cramps and –
And the world was tilting around her and she was on the floor and her head hurt and there were faces all around her, peering down at her, and she was surrounded by enemies and nowhere was safe and –
And it was getting more and more difficult to breathe and her gasps were desperate and futile as the world began going dark.
~#~
Exhaustion.
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New Muse: Halgrand the Cogfleet Commando
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The Kharadron Overlords are mercantile skyborne duardin who have mastered the use of aether-gold – a magical material seeded through the very clouds of the Mortal Realms – through esoteric technology. With this power, they have built an empire in the skies, forged on their strange science, enormous fleets of airships and the Kharadron Code – a set of strictures that governs the behaviour and relationships of Kharadron society (though they are somewhat open to interpretation).
None but the cheekiest of the Kharadron deem it to merely be a guideline of sorts. None, but those that hail from Barak Mhornar. Unscrupulous, cruel and greedy, these duardin have known to sell themselves to the highest bidder. If you have the coin, you best invest it today, lest your enemies do so beforehand, and you miss your single chance at barterning for your life.
BIO // MUSE LIST
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expensiveplaces · 3 years
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Stunning Verbier Chalet valued at CHF 14.9 million comes to auction
In the heart of the vibrant village of Verbier, Chalet Maurine, a breathtaking mix of contemporary design and classic alpine style will auction next month via Concierge Auctions in cooperation with Guive Emami of Swissroc Mountain Properties and Rosario Gallina of Barnes International Realty. Currently Listed for CHF 14.9M, the property will sell No Reserve to the highest bidder. Bidding is scheduled to be held on 16–21 April via Concierge Auctions’ online marketplace, ConciergeAuctions.com, allowing buyers to bid digitally from anywhere in the world.
“I’m absolutely thrilled to be partnering with Concierge Auctions once more,” stated Emami. “After our last record-setting sale near Geneva, we’re quite eager to capitalize on our success, combine our resources, and aim to set another record.”
From top to bottom, the chalet is as chic and luxurious as the resort it calls home. The highest floor of Chalet Maurine boasts a spacious open dining area with a well-equipped kitchen and a living area wraps itself around a natural stone fireplace perfect to curl up next to after a long day on the slopes. The double height ceiling soars above, accented by floor-to-ceiling French windows and rustic exposed old wood beams, making the most of the panoramic view of the majestic Swiss Alps summits covered in eternal snow. Relax the day away in the hot tub on the sun-soaked south-facing terrace. Kids can frolic in the second living room one floor down. With eight bedrooms (including a master suite with its own terrace), there is more than enough space for retiring in peaceful privacy. A private guest lift runs to all floors, including the dedicated wellness area with a steam room. Additional features include a ski room; garage; west-facing terraces; and a massage room—all just seconds from Verbier’s Place Centrale and a two-minute walk from the main Medran ski lift.
“Chalet Maurine is one of the most desirable properties in all of Verbier,” stated Gallina. “Its central location, incredibly spacious and comfortable interior, and Verbier’s world-renowned celebrity culture make it an amazing opportunity for the discerning buyer to snap it up for their own personal use or to rent it out during the season.”
Verbier is a beautiful village in the famous Swiss Alps, found on a bright and sunny plateau overlooking the picturesque Val de Bagnes. As a major destination for skiers, golfers, and nature enthusiasts, the Swiss Alps welcome more than one million visitors annually. Verbier, with a suite of chalet-style facilities and amenities galore, is the perfect way to enjoy the Alps. At an altitude of up to 3,300 meters, the eternal snows of the Combins and the French Mont Blanc stretch out beyond the windows of Verbier. Chalet Maurine itself features a jaw-dropping view of Bruson across the Val de Bagnes. With great snow from November to late April, 410 kilometers of slopes, and 92 state-of-the-art lifts, it is no surprise that skiing is a draw for enthusiasts of any skill level. Golf, mountain biking, and hiking are unbeatable in the summer months. Place Centrale, Verbier’s main hub, is only moments from the chalet’s front door.
Chalet Maurine is available for showings daily by appointment and for private virtual showings.
As part of Concierge Auctions’ Key for Key® giving program in partnership with Giveback Homes, the closing will result in a new home built for a family in need.
More info: www.conciergeauctions.com
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