El Halcón - Chapter 18
“ so who talks first? you talk first? i talk first? “
[ oscar isaac, cis gender male, thirty five ] Let’s give a warm welcome to one of Sparkwood’s finest, POE DAMERON !! Before coming here, HE once lived on the pages of STAR WARS. Though now they currently spend most of their time as a(n) MECHANIC. If you ask the townsfolk about what they are like, you will hear that they are CHARISMATIC but also REBELLIOUS. If they had a theme song it would be DANCING QUEEN - ABBA.. Let’s see how their story unravels this time.
tw; death mention, car crash
growing up, music was always playing in the dameron household. it was a nightly routine. after dinner was cleaned up, his mom would pick out a vinyl, put it on and they would dance before bed. these are some of poe’s favorite memories of his mother.
disaster struck when he was eight. his mother died unexpectedly, and very young. she died in a car accident which just seemed like the universe being cruel. his mother had been a professional racer, and cars were her life. to have her life taken by something she loved almost as much as her family was cruel irony at it’s best.
poe wanted to be a racer like his mom. he loved learning about cars, especially from his mom. however, when she died, his dad got strict with him. he wanted to keep him close to home and away from any trouble. the tight leash only made poe want to sneak around.
once poe was old enough to move out, he did just that. he found a job as a mechanic and found that he actually loved it. if he wasn’t going to be a racer like his mom, then at least he could work around cars.
his favorite band is abba because that was something his mom played a lot. he plays it in the shop when he’s feeling particularly nostalgic.
he has a rebellious streak and is extremely outspoken about anything he could have an opinion on. especially when it comes to people’s rights.
as an adult, he’s realizing his dad had a reason to be worried about him. poe is a lot like his mother. coming to this realization, he’s working on rebuilding the relationship with his father but it’s a slow process.
he wears his moms wedding ring on a necklace around his neck. he would love to give it to his future partner one day.
he is bilingual
he is polyamorous and pansexual. poe would hit on a tree if it could talk back. he flirts with just about everyone.
1 note · View note
My books are super disorganised because I don't have any space left on my shelves and I hate it
1 note · View note
@therunnymoonsover for my fellow Edgar Allen Hoes
1 note · View note
Dang I may call myself a Poe simp but I realize now that I just barely posted my first fic for him woops-
Poe x Reader - Dangers of the Sea and the Shore
A/n: This could be way better! But I'm half dead with tiredness
(Masterlist) (200 Followers Event - open for Mha only)
If life is a competition, Poe couldn’t really say that he ran through it steadily, or sprinted ahead at full speed. He sort of… stumbled about, speeding up at random times and slowing to almost a complete standstill at others, unsure of what to do.
One thing that was consistent, although, was the desire to win.
And the pressures and anxieties that came with it.
He wanted, no, for him, he needed to create a novel that others would enjoy. He needed to keep the audience scratching their heads. Needed to keep other mystery novelists asking questions.
He needed to beat Ranpo Edogawa.
However, the expectations placed on him by his own self always began to weigh on his mind, driving him steadily to a breaking point.
He couldn’t even gasp for air as he fell deeper and deeper into his sea of madness. As he sank, he was aware that he was drowning.
But he thought he was pushing himself forward by writing without a break; he truly believed that he was making progress, when in reality, he was only pushing himself down further into the watery depths of despair.
So how did he once again find himself on the sandy shore, covered in salt water with burning eyes but still with life?
It was only because you had plunged head first into the icy abyss, extending a hand to pull him back to safety.
And you kept doing it. Everytime he found himself sinking, or even dipping his toes into the water again, you reached a hand out, snapping him back to reality. Soon enough, he found himself staying grounded, feet placed on the shore.
He was still scared though. He knew perfectly well that the danger of the bottom of the ocean is a different danger from the one that awaited him on the shore, where the people resided.
But it couldn’t be so bad, after all, the ground was where you lived too, and sure enough, you were there once again, lending your help. Whenever the dizzying crowds and blinding sunlight were too much for him, a cool touch of your fingers against his arm was enough to snap him out of his daze. A brush of your hand against his, a glance from the corner of your eye and a smile; all these things reminded him that he had a connection to the good of this world.
But as expected, there were times when he feared that connection being severed. Poe did trust you, of course, but he worried about what he loved most.
Being the lifeguard you were, you deserved more than the man who had constantly ignored the red flag warnings. What if he ignored them once more? Even worse, what if this time you drowned with him?
He would never let you drown. And he wouldn’t make you pull yourself up either. So he would get stronger, learn to read the language of the waves, and make sure that you would always stay safe.
Getting strong immediately was impossible, and in getting stronger, he would need someone to hold him when he was out of breath.
So please, stay with him. Stay until he can be strong and be of service to you, should you ever begin to sink, or simply need a guiding hand along the sea line.
6 notes · View notes
Months of love
I know, it’s a shock that I actually do write more for bsd than just for the redheads. Either way, I hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece of Poe being a denial-ridden little dumbass lololol. Also, just a little reminder, I know only the bare details of white day and valentines in Japan, so if there is any mess ups or details wrong, forgive me.
Poe shouldn't have been surprised to go to the store and see so many valentines chocolates on fancy displays, with brightly colored advertisements and boxes. He'd only come to the store for some groceries, but he'd been picking through small boxes of candies and packages of assorted white colored goodies for an hour, his shopping in his cart and ready to buy.
"Do you think I should buy one?" He asked the raccoon perched on his shoulder, "I don't have any partners, but if I remember correctly valentines, or maybe white day, is also for general loved ones and not just romantic interests in japan, right?" As he spoke to himself, Poe looked over one of the boxes of pre-made chocolates, but they didn't sound that good for who he had in mind. I'm not sure if Ranpo has any allergies, so maybe it'd be best to avoid as many as I can. He decided after a swift scan of the remaining candies.
So, he finally went to check out and go home with his pet. For the next chunk of the day, he tried to find recipes online for valentines chocolates and try them. His many attempts at the craft helped him hone the skill, and left him with plenty of candy for himself, so he wasn't frustrated at how long it took to finally get a high quality batch of candies.
Once he had them, he boxed them up in the best little package he had, put Ranpo's name on the box in Japanese, and headed out for another trip into town, this time to the ADA. Oh god, is it okay if I go there? So late into the day? What if they're closed? What if they're NOT closed? The panic in his gut ate at his soul, he could feel himself reaching the limit he had for people and being out of the house like a collision he could see from a mile away, but he had no clue if he could spare a day to leave the candies and have the same meaning of appreciation. So, he powered through the discomfort as he pulled up to the agency building in the warm, gentle light of evening.
What if Ranpo reads too much into it? I'm his nemesis, surely he won't think I have feeling-feelings for him? I just-I just want to show him that I appreciate his humoring of my rivalry with him. Poe told himself, climbing out of his car and taking a deep breath to quell the feeling of frantic, vibrating energy in his stomach before he walked into the building.
The goth, of course, didn't have the guts to personally give the small box of candies he clutched anxiously to the smaller, highly intellegent, hyper-active ravenette he called a rival, so he instead crept closer to the office door and paused to listen.
When he heard life within the ADA office, Poe's stomach plummeted and anxiety clogged his throat for a moment, forcing him to choke it down before he got so absorbed into 'what if' that he got caught crouching beside the door like a dumbass, clutching the gift he'd brought. So, he choked back the suffocating fear and just placed the box down before scurrying out and back to his car.
He'd never been so thankful to return to his secluded, empty mansion-of-a-home in a sea of trees until that day. He was also highly grateful that his main source of income, ever since before the guild had hired him on, was so asocial and relaxing to him. It gave him a chance to unwind and destress after such a taxing day, though it also helped that, unlike in America, Poe had a whole month or so to prepare for any possible reciprocation he might get.
Of course, Poe hadn't forgotten what he did by the time White day came around, he just couldn't decide if he was anxious to get a gift or not. Was he scared that Ranpo might reciprocate the feelings? Would he reciprocate the stated feelings, or the ones the goth kept locked deep within himself to avoid the risk of making a complete and utter fool of himself? These questions had been gnawing at him the most since the eleventh or twelfth of March, but his thoughts continued their campaign through every possibility imaginable as he once again did his monthly shopping and went to talk to his publisher.
If anything, that feeling of frayed nerves negatively impacted his day, but he couldn't really bring himself to care about his publisher after the way this branch's representative was so rude to him. However, when he walked out into the early noon light and back to his car he got an answer to silence his anxieties, or make them worse. There, sitting on the hood of his car like a parking ticket was a small, somewhat shallow, white box with a note neatly tucked under the thin black ribbon.
With shaking hands, Poe carefully took the box and note, pushing the thick curtain of bangs that he usually saw the world through from his grey eyes to read the scribbly, energetic english written on the slip,
It amazes me that someone with such a creative, complicated, mysterious mind as yours is so very, very obvious with his reasoning, Edgar. I know for a FACT that you wanted me to see your little gift as a simple 'thank you for being my rival' but trust me pretty boy, you are as gay as a double rainbow in what you call 'pride month'. My only hope with this gift is that you are much more adept at picking clues up than you are at hiding your feelings.
Poe took a deep breath to try and steady his vision, laying his head against the hot hood of his car as he slid down to his knees. he was almost certain that the world was swaying and spinning at the same time, his chest full of swirling whirlpools of shock, excitement, panic, general amusement, and finally the overwhelming urge to cry.
Of course Ranpo was as mean sounding in a note addressed to the man he was reciprocating the feelings of as he was talking to his coworkers, that was almost painfully Ranpo. It also left no room for him to worry his way out of the clear, flashing meaning of the note, which brought a small smile to the nervous goth's lips.
💞 + Favorite part of a women's body?
💞 + Tits or ass?
"Well, I have enough ass for both of us. I'll raise you one better, thighs."
Bound For Error - T w o
- 02. LULLABY
[Poe Dameron x OFC]
Bound For Error Masterlist
Warnings: Death (not in depth), murder (not in depth), loss, angst
A/N: This is where the story begins to develop, the last small chapter before things get real good! I hope you all give this a chance ❤❤ This is a different type of writing for me!
Word Count: 931
⇤ Prev / Next ⇥
"Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop."
Screams echoed throughout the halls as the young woman finished brushing through her dark hair. The screams were a lullaby, a hymn that held a darker meaning, much like Rock-A-Bye-Baby. She took the screams as a signal and slipped on her boots before pulling up her hood, looking around the room as she walked towards the door. She knew she'd be back, to grab her bag that sat packed on her bed, but she despised the feeling as she walked out.
She slightly enjoyed the screams in a sense, knowing that there was something besides her that could invoke fear within the members of Maul's crime organization. The young girl was cold and ruthless, her presence bringing so much fear that she seemed to exude a constant, awful, energy that consumed those around her. She was a myth for a reason. Everyone who came within six feet of the young girl was never found alive and that was part of her power.
Anger coursed through her blood as she looked at the dead bodies littering the floor. She hated that this was how it had to be, how the force had destined it to be. She was content here, with Maul, the man who served as her father for the past seven years. She didn't want to experience all this disruption and change her whole life, she was content in her small snake hole.
She distracted herself from the fallen people by looking out the windows, snow fell outside, and she watched it silently. The snow was the soft, relaxing rhythm of Rock-A-Bye-Baby, the rhythm that almost hid the darker meaning of the lyrics. Kylo Ren was the lyrics, hidden in the building hidden by the snow. First, you see the light then, you see the dark.
"When the wind blows,
The cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks,
The cradle will fall."
Stormtroopers spun towards her, blasters raised and aimed, shouting for her to stop in her place. In the blink of an eye, the group of six lay dead on the floor. The sound of the female's lightsaber deactivating was like a siren in the barren halls, right before she turned to enter the throne room. It took all the strength in her to not slaughter the tall person standing over Maul's still body. To not make him pay for disrupting her peace.
"It's not that much of an accomplishment," She spoke, startling the person into spinning around, "He wanted to die, letting you kill him was the easy way out."
"Who are you?" The person's voice was modified from their helmet, making the girl grimaced.
"You know me," She smiled as she kept her head down just enough so the person wouldn't be able to identify her face, "You've just never seen me. I believe I'm referred to as quite the legend these days... somewhere up there with the... Millennium Falcon."
She had struck a soft spot in the human. A spot so tender the hiss of a helmet releasing filled the room, and she was met with the face of none other than Ben Solo. She slowly removed her hood, watching as Ben's eyes racked over her facial features, trying to identify her.
A smile rose to her lips, revealing her perfect white teeth, "Darth Sauda.. pleasure to meet you, Kylo Ren."
The young boy's face contorted into one of shock as he processed who he was standing across from.
Finally, he sighed, "So I assume you'll kill me now?"
Ben flinched as the girl's bubbly laugh filled the room, "Giving in so easy? No... no, I won't kill you. This is where we come together, unite our.. force."
He sauntered towards her carefully, ready for a battle with the legendary Sith Lord. The exact Sith Lord that Snoke that warned him about so many times. She held out a hand, waiting for Ben to react but instead, he stared back.
"I know your pain Ben," The woman spoke softly, slowly, wanting him to hear each word, "I know that pain and hatred you have built up. The force wants us to work together, controlling the universe together. Don't let Maul's death be in vain. Don't forget who's in control."
Somewhere, far across the universe, a boy with dark curly hair had tears rising in his eyes. Immobilizing emotional pain floods through the young man. He recognized the feeling immediately, identifying the pain he was feeling for whatever was bonded to him. Wiping his eyes he looked around the resistance base for any clue of whatever he was attached to, though he knew he wouldn't find any.
It wasn't uncommon that he felt this pain coming from the bond he shared with something else. They were often angry and inundated with pain. He often felt them crying at night or battling someone else. He only hoped that they were fighting against the First Order.
It was the rare occasions he felt joy coming from the bond that he felt euphoric, and now was one of those rare moments. The pain was quickly leaving, and joy was overtaking the bond. So strong and so bright he could almost see the joy. Oh, how happy he was that they weren't in pain. The tears ceased, and a small, soft smile graced his lips, much like you might see a small child do at the end of a bedtime lullaby.
"And down will come baby,
Cradle and all."
If you enjoyed this... a like, comment, or reblog would be extremely appreciated! I’d love to hear your reactions/feedback! Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to dm or send in an ask! ❤❤❤
General Taglist: @nowthisisdark
done with having babies, time to finish her aspiration
6 notes · View notes
Poe having a rag in his pocket or something just in case BB gets a little dirty.
He might also just use his thumb and all.
1 note · View note
bed : talisha wakes up in the same bed as poe with little recollection of the night before.
con tan sólo abrir los ojos ya es consciente de que no será un gran día, efectos de la noche anterior se sienten como presión en los ojos y articulaciones parecen entumecidas. “mierda.” dígitos acarician sienes y se deslizan sobre párpados, con intenciones de reaccionar, y cuando se mueve para alcanzar botella de agua a un lado de la cama, su pierna choca con la de alguien más. se voltea con rapidez, arrepintiéndose al instante porque habitación parece dar vueltas, pero al reconocer facciones de quien está a su lado, parece olvidarse de malestar. “¡¿qué estás haciendo tú aquí?!” diestra se presiona sobre brazo contrario y apenas lo sacude, intentando despertarle. @dakitii.
THE HEADLESS LIVESTREAM WAS AMAZING! And Mary Kate and Sarah both responded to my comments (and said my name!)! i just love being a part of this fandom, yall! <3
10 notes · View notes
23 notes · View notes