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#MAZ-X
teknolojihaber · 5 months
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Belarus'un Tesla Semi rakibi çekicisi:MAZ-X
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MAZ fabrikası alışılmadık ürünleriyle bilinen bir firma. Sovyetler Birliği'nde tesisin ürünleri büyük talep görüyordu. Çöküşün ardından tesis, eski cumhuriyetlerdeki tüm işletmeler gibi zor günler yaşadı. Ancak zamanla tesis kendine geldi, “nakit akışı” başladı ve kendine güvenmeye başladı.
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Olağandışı gelişmelere bakınca fabrikayla ilgili ilk akla gelen, o dönemde fütüristik olduğu ve 1988 yılı olduğu ancak bu kamyonun hala ilgi çekici olduğu. MAZ-2000' "Perestroyka'den bahsediyoruz. Modüler tasarımı o zamanlar devrim niteliğindeydi ve Paris Uluslararası Otomobil Fuarı'nda büyük ses getirmiş, hatta olağanüstü teknik başarılarından dolayı ödül bile almıştı.
MAZ-2000
Ancak elbette fütüristik kamyon hiçbir zaman üretime geçmedi; Sovyetler Birliği'nin çöküşü ve seri üretimde uygulanması zor olan karmaşık teknik çözümlere kadar bunun pek çok nedeni vardı. Bu nedenle tesis klasik yerleşim düzenine sahip modeller üretmeye devam etti. Ve MAZ-2000'in gösterilmesinden bu yana geçen on yıllar boyunca tesis, henüz seri üretime girmemiş, ancak yalnızca tek kopya halinde üretilen bazı modeller dışında ilginç bir ürün göstermedi. Son zamanlarda tesiste modern bir MAZ-X çekici tanıtıldı. Bu, tesisin şimdiye kadar ürettiği en gelişmiş kamyon olacak. Öncelikle gözünüze çarpan şey, yollarda bulabileceğiniz hiçbir şeye pek benzemeyen fütüristik tasarımıdır. Bu kamyon Belerus Başkan'ı Alexander Lukashenko'ya da gösterildi. 300 beygir gücünde bir Çin Weichai dizel motor ve iki elektrik motorundan oluşan hibrid güç aktarma organlarına sahip hibrit bir kamyon. MAZ-X sadece gelişmiş bir güç aktarma organına değil, aynı zamanda tek bir kaydırmalı sürücü kapısına sahip sıra dışı görünümlü bir kabine sahiptir. Araçta tek adımlı tahrik aksı bara ve 4 noktalı arka aks havalı süspansiyon var. Kamyonun içi dışarıdan daha az ilginç değil. Böylece MAZ-X, yan aynalar yerine dış tarafta kameralar ve iç sütunlarda kameralardan gelen görüntülerin görüntülendiği ekranlarla donatılmış. Çözüm net değil, ne kadar kullanışlı olduğu hala bir soru ama alışılmadık görünüyor. Ayrıca gösterge paneli boyunca sürücü için çeşitli ekranlar yer alıyor ve kabinin arka kısmında ergonomik bir yaşam alanı bulunuyor. Diğer şeylerin yanı sıra MAZ-X, elbette, modern teknolojik trendlere uygun olarak, kamyonun belirli bir rota boyunca bağımsız olarak hareket etmesine olanak tanıyan otonom bir sürüş sistemi ile donatılmış. Sistem, yoldaki nesneleri tanımak ve bunlara zamanında yanıt vermek için kameralardan ve radarlardan gelen verileri kullanıyor.   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=urWyE3MYr2c Read the full article
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queen-of-reptiles · 9 days
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𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙺, 𝚂𝙴𝚃, 𝙶𝙾!
description - maz's 'friend' is the no.1 400m runner in the world, she needs to prove that at the world champs. if she does, maz will hard launch
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maz pacheco x female reader
disclaimer - i am not in anyway assuming Maz’s sexuality this is all just fiction
warnings - fluff, elude to sex and that’s it i think xx
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y/n just posted
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Liked by, racheldaly3, maz_pacheco and 1.2 million others
tagged racheldaly3, maz_pacheco, jordannobbs, leahwilliamsonn and 11 others
y/n I promise I am training hard... 🫡
view 472, 888 comments
username1: hahahahhahahahah😭
username2: Why does she know the womens football world??????
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username3: She and Rachel Daly grew up together !! And she is close with Millie Bright and Maz Pacheco
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username2: Ooooooh Thanks !
racheldaly3: I so think I could do the 400m 🤷‍♀️
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mbrighty04: You can't even count that high stfu
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y/n: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH 😭
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racheldaly3: 😡😡
username4: Whooooooooo! 💙💙💙
username5: Gold for sure! 🥇🥇🥇
username6: So excited !!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳
leahwilliamsonn: Go on our girl - so excited to see you run! 🩷🩷
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y/n: 🩷🩷🩷
maz_pacheco: <3
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y/n: <3
teamgb: Come on y/n!!
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y/n: ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
username7: 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞
username8: I DREW Y/N !! PLEASE CHECK IT OUT
jordannobbs: Chickyyyyy 🐣🐣
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y/n: Jordyyyyyy 🐣🐣
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maz_pacheco just posted on her story
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twitter/X:
username1: Anyone seen Maz's story????
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username2: I think a load of the Villa girls and Lionesses are there supporting y/n!!!! 🥳
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username1: Ahhhh Thank you!
username3: y/n is so fit omg 😝😝
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username4: The fact she walked out of the intro just grinning and waving! 🥺🥺
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username5: The lil hair flick UGHHHHH
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username6: THE ABS??? 😰😰😰
username7: Anyone see y/n and Maz's little wave
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username8: Their friendship is so cute omg 🥺
see more comments...
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y/n breathed a deep breath out, trying to keep her composure, her stomach was tight with nerves but as she looked over to her girlfriend she couldn't help but let out a small smile.
Maz was sat there, a smile on her face and as they locked eyes, y/n could almost feel her girlfriend's confidence in her flow through her.
y/n had been running most of her life, she found it freeing and exciting, she had set the world record for 400m, but with Femke Boll right on her shoulder she knew today would be a test.
The outdoor world championships were made to push, but y/n had to show that since her gold at the last Olympics her ankle injury had not changed her.
Truth was it had, every had seen her push through the finish line seconds ahead of everyone and then watched her go down in pain as her Achilles snapped.
It had been a long road to recovery, one of tears and upset despite the gold which was hung in her home, she had won but at what cost was the headlines everywhere.
y/n had been described as someone who had changed running, and now she needed to prove it. All of her qualification times had been slower than expected but still easy races.
It was clear she was not pushing herself to make quick times only qualify, and that had made the media wonder if the 23 year old still had it in her to run.
y/n had many things on the line here today as she prepared for the final. But the one she really cared about was Maz's encouragement that morning.
"You win, and I'll tell the whole world." Maz said with a grin, her arm tracing patterns on y/n's bare shoulder, kisses being placed into her hair line.
"Really?" y/n questioned, Maz nodding simply as y/n chuckled and pressed a kiss to her long-term girlfriend's lips.
"Well, I better win then." y/n smiles Maz leaning down to press a deep kiss against her just as the door opens.
"Separate and clothe please, I want my cuddles!" Rachel stated as she walked in, throwing a random top at y/n as the woman chuckled and pulled it on, her best friend landing next to her on the bed.
"3, 2, 1." Maz counted as the door opened again and Millie appeared, the Lioness landing the other side of Maz also.
"You know guys, this is a 2 person relationship." y/n had said and Millie snorted.
"No it ain't." Millie denied and the group shared a laugh.
y/n couldn't help but smile at the memory of that morning, knowing full well that Maz's promise had pushed her mind a little further as she set down.
She waited for the call, the crowd now dead silent, this was it, this was the final push. y/n breathed in, breathed out. The shot echoed, and y/n leapt.
Her feet pushed against the ground, her breathing regulated as she came into the first bend, she looked at nothing, heard nothing, not even Femke behind her, trying to keep up with the blistering pace y/n had set.
y/n did not look at the clock as she came down the back straight, she didn't hear the shouts from the crowd as their eyes continuously darted between the clock and y/n herself.
y/n continued, going around the final bend and into the home straight, she realised somehwat that she felt as if the race had gone quick, very quick.
"Come on baby!" Maz's voice brought her back into the race, pushing her legs harder as her lungs burnt and she raced past the line, the girl slowing her legs down as she collapsed onto the floor.
y/n's body shuddered as she tried to breathe, only just acknowledging the deafening cheers coming from the crowd as Femke got her yelling excitedly.
"Fe, what?" y/n asked with a pant as she got up, accepting the water throwing her way and throwing half of it on herself before trying to take small sips of the rest.
"Oh my god!" Femke grinned, turning her around to see the screen so y/n could see her time.
"HOLY SHIT!" y/n screamed, jumping back and running in shock. She collapsed on her knees, looking at the time in shock and someone wrapped a flag around her shoulders.
45.67 seconds - WR, WL, SB, PB
The crowd could now definitely be heard as y/n shouted in joy up at the sky. Photographers racing to get a photo of the new record holder who had almost matched the men's.
y/n leant down pressing a kiss to the track beneath her as she was helped up on shaky legs, throwing herself at the people around her who were just as happy for her as she was.
That was something y/n had always loved about competing. Those around her despite being from different places, were always as happy for each others achievements as the person themselves was.
y/n ran at her friends, Rachel and Millie dragging her into a hug as y/n tried to compose herself. Maz was next the woman leaning down and placing a kiss on her girlfriend's lips.
"Had to go an set a world record as well?" Maz asks her and y/n grins, pushing herself up and into Maz again, another kiss being shared with the cameras flashing wildly.
Millie and Rachel cheered with the girls around them, excited it was finally out and they no longer had to keep the hard to do so secret.
"Love you!" y/n called as she hopped down, Maz grinning as y/n ran off, flying the flag behind her as she celebrated and shouted with the crowd.
This was a race she would never forget, and the photos taken would soon be all over her and Maz's home, as the love shared was perfectly captured in a snapshot of victory.
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y/n just posted on her story
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maz_pacheco just posted on her story
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twitter/X:
username1: you know MAYBE ONE DAY we will all stop being idiots :)
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username2: na never gonna happen
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username3: THEY ARE SO CUTE THO 😩😩
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END
Tried my hardest with this but still not super happy can’t lie ! xxx
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russolaw · 13 days
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adoriadreams · 1 year
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Tysha and Mirri Maz Duur are two characters I feel like the fandom tends to erase the pain of in favor of the POV character (Tyrion and Dany).
Their not really viewed as people but an arc/character development for Dany and Tyrion and the more I think about it the more I hate it.
Tysha was raped and abuse by Tywin, she got no justice, but that's all glossed over in favor of highlighting how unfairly Tywin treats Tyrion and his hatred for his son, and Tyrion's trauma. No doubt the event was traumatic for Tyrion but the way people choose to only focus on Tyrion's trauma while ignoring Tysha is disturbing and disappointing. I have also seen people shipping them and wanting a reunion and for them to marry again but let's not forget Tyrion abused her. He raped her. Yes, Tywin forced him but it still happened and Tysha doesn't deserve to relive that trauma so Tyrion can find peace and redemption.
Mirri was raped, abused and witness the murder and rape of her people but that's all glossed over as well in favor of highlighting Dany coming into power. Beating her first 'Villian' and dealing with her first 'Betrayal'. Mirri did not owe Dany any loyalty because Dany saved her by making Mirri her slave. At the end of the day a slave is still a slave, even if their master is kind. The fact that people villianize Mirri for something they would praise Dany for is telling enough. And the fact that they think Mirri should be ever grateful Dany 'saved' her is disturbing. Also Mirri was still abused even after Dany 'saved' her. The idea that Mirri did something villainous by rebelling( killing Drogo. Still have no proof she actually did it) against her master is the idea that slaves have no right to rebell/desire freedom. The fandom perception around Mirri Maz Duur is disappointing . (Maybe it's the way GRRM wrote it or maybe it's because the fandom is mostly white.)
Justice for Tysha and Mirri Maz Duur.
I rambled alot in this one.
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HERE ME OUT…..marauders high school musical au
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angel-of-the-moons · 9 months
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Local Flavor
Poe Dameron x Fem Twi'lek!Reader
Summary:
On a solo job to Ryloth to pickup a shipment for The Resistance, Poe runs into an unexpected hiccup. With his only transport damaged and BB-8 offline, Poe is forced to stash his cargo and venture out into the harsh Rylothian landscape, where he finds you. Or, more accurately... you find him.
TW/CW: Near death, infection, fever, dehydration, fluff, Poe is a disaster pansexual idiot, BB-8 is his son fight me. Bugs!!! Big!!! Bugs!!! Strip poker (technically), everybody checks everyone out, but nothing explicit happens.
A/N: It's about time I wrote something for Poe! I can finally do the idea I had now that I thought up a plot! This fic takes place before The Force Awakens! (I hope you guys like the reference I put in there! Dun dun duuuun!)
And like, I just wanted an excuse to show Leia being the "team mom".
Asdfghjkl god this is a long-winded one but I didn't wanna break it up into parts; and the ending feels a bit lacking, but i loved writing it.
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It was supposed to be a routine supply run for some extra credits for the Resistance.
Go to the location, pick up the package from the dead drop, bring it to his ship, and go deliver it to his contact for payment, then come on home.
What he didn't anticipate? Was the pack of gutkurr that ambushed he and BB-8, his droid companion after they spent almost a full day digging up the concealed cache.
The large carnivorous insects ambushed them on the way out of a rocky canyon bend, jumping from the well-camouflaged crevices they concealed themselves in and onto the speeder he'd paid next to nothing for.
It was a junker, for sure, but the fuel cells and thrusters were good enough to do the trip he needed it for. He wouldn't be able to fit his ship into these narrow twists and turns even if he tried.
Maybe if he had his X-Wing, but that would have been too high-profile for this run, which is why he had to settle for a simple, tiny cargo freighter.
But while on the ground he needed something more maneuverable. Hence that kriffing speeder.
As soon as one of the gutkurr landed on the hood, the thin metal folded in, the inner workings of the speeder sputtering and erupting into smoke as the sickle-like claws of the creature dug into the metal for better security as it snapped its jaws in Poe's direction.
He had to bob and tip away and try to see around the animal, while BB-8 shocked it if it got too close to Poe. Always his best sidekick, that droid was his partner in crime.
But try as the little droid might, he just was no match when the speedier just died, unable to take the strain anymore as the electrical system short-circuited and send sparks of light arcing every which way, sending the droid's head spinning with a high pitched "beep-wheeeeep!" before completely stilling.
The nose of the speeder was forced down, digging a gouge of dry craggy soil until it pitched forward because of the sheer weight in the front from Poe, the gutkurr, and the cases of cargo strapped to the sides.
Poe was sent flying through the air, just narrowly dodging the snapping maw of the gutkurr as it rolled back to its feet, a piece of jagged metal jabbing into its flesh where the natural armor plating had gapped.
Poe spun around, both blasters drawn as the rest of the pack caught up, salivating at the prospect of a fresh meal.
A big, handsome, juicy one, if Poe actually had to brag about it.
He'd tried to fire at them, but his blaster bolts simply bounced right off their thick carapaces.
Kriff.
He fired again, and once more the red bolts fizzed off the shells and into the canyon walls, sending shards of chalky rock and dust raining down on them.
"Kriff!"
There were three of them.
Three of them versus one of him. It may have been a bit more even had BB-8 not been fried by the overload to his system, but right now it was down to just what little he had on him to fight. And it wasn't much. He had a few grenades... but were they enough to get through their carapaces when his blaster couldn't?
The creatures all hissed as they slowly advanced on him, snapping their maws and growling deeply to intimidate him into turning and running away, just so they could strike at him from behind.
Poe was reckless, but not stupid.
Okay, well maybe there was that one time on Corellia, but--
He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as he slowly put one foot in after the other, backing away as carefully as possible with no sudden movements.
"Okay, buglies... Easy, there..." Poe said gently to them, his dark eyes darting around frantically for an out.
Firing his blasters was pointless, it bounced right off the ugly shells--
Wait.
His eyes quickly raked up the sides of the craggy rocks towering on either side of them. Maybe...
Ah... screw it.
Poe backed further from the speeder, leading the nasties away from his downed speeder and best pal.
If he timed it right... Then maybe he could pull this trick off.
"Come on, that's it... come get a nice juicy bite of some Dameron steak..." He continued to talk to himself as his hand slowly lowered his other blaster, letting it hang loosely from the worn leather strap. His fingers deftly found their way to the round objects in one of the pockets of his belt and he pulled one out, his thumb flicking the arming switch.
His feet moved beneath him in a blur.
In a second he was able to toss a grenade at the feet of one of the gutkurr, the creatures snarling and hissing at the object before it detonated, sending shards up through the softer shell of the underbelly through one of them, killing the creature with a thunderous boom and crack as the carapace gave way beneath the force of the explosion.
Poe had thrown himself backwards as the explosion tossed one of the remaining two insectoids against the canyon wall, disorienting it as the other lunged for Poe, snatching his leg between his jaws and crunching down.
Either the gutkurr didn't intend to rip his leg off or it was knocked off its senses by the blast, he didn't know. The searing pain as the animal's fangs shredded through his leather boot and ripped into his skin, sending hot gushes of bright red blood out onto the yellowish sand below.
Poe cried out, gritting his teeth and blinking back tears as he raised his blaster again, this time pressing the barrel straight against the eye of the beast; the white-hot bolt burning right through to the brain, killing it with a double-tap of the trigger.
Once it slumped to the side, Poe scrambled away once more, grabbing another grenade from his pouch and tossing it to the last surviving gutkurr.
He rolled into his side and covered his head as it detonated, sending chunks of rock crumbling from the canyon walls, falling and crushing the gutkurr beneath the weight of the stones.
Once the dust cleared, Poe laid back in the sand and heaved heavy breaths, sweat soaking his clothes as the adrenaline coursed through his body.
He managed to force himself to his feet and hobble back to his crashed speeder. His first action was to pull BB-8 free from the socket and proceed to check him over.
Upon seeing the scorch marks, Poe's brows pinched up and his heart fluttered.
"Oh, buddy..." He breathed as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to what would be the spherical droid's face.
"Don't worry," He promised. "I'll get us out of here. And then... we're getting the hell off of Ryloth."
Poe carefully set his droid pal to the side and began scrambling for his medical kit.
When he found the busted metal tin, he cringed when he saw the contents. One singular bacta patch and a bunch of bandages.
Seriously? What had he been thinking! The General told him he needed to keep a fully stocked kit on him, but did he listen? Noooooo.
"C'mon, General. It's me." Poe grinned at her. "How often do I get shot?"
She pursed her slightly wrinkled lips and crossed her arms, her brow quirking upwards skeptically, her bright beautiful brown eyes locking with his own.
"Do you want me to count on both hands or use my toes, too? Because I'd still run out if I tried to count."
Damn, the woman had been right. Again. He had half a mind to wonder if she didn't see a vision of him getting shot before this run, and reminded him solely because of that.
He read in a holo once that Jedi could use the Force to heal wounds, and he was currently fresh out of Jedi.
The throb in his leg sent fresh tears surging up to dew on the edges of his eyelashes as he dropped down.
Taking a piece of the cargo mounting that had broken off during the crash, Poe used his knife in his other boot to slice the remainders of his pants leg away and carefully toe'd the boot off his foot so he could better assess the damage.
And yeah, it was bad. He needed a medical droid or some kinda doctor, fast. With how bad the lacerations to the flesh and muscle, infection would be a death sentence. From a simple glance, even he could tell his tibial and fibular arteries weren't damaged (thank the Force) because of the gaps that were between the gutkurr's fangs.
But the force of the bite alone at least fractured his tibia, maybe even broke his ankle.
Kriff.
Poe ripped the foil packet containing the pitifully tiny bacta patch and pressed it down over the biggest hole in his leg.
Hell, if it couldn't fix it all, it was better it fix some than none.
He winced as the cold gel touched the open wound, and rifling through the kit once more provided him with some much-needed sterile gauze. No antibacterial gel however, so the risk of infection was still there. Especially from the saliva of that nasty critter alone.
"Beggars can't be choosers, Poe..." He grunted to himself as he broke another loose piece of metal from the cargo mounting and lined them both up, struggling to wrap them as tight as possible on either side of his leg so he could make a field splint.
He gripped the sides of his speeder and groaned as he felt his adrenaline wane as he looked at the wreckage.
Well... now he had another problem.
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By another graced miracle, Poe was able to create a sled that he was able to drop the crates of cargo onto, as well as his precious droid friend.
After he stashed and concealed the cargo in a small cave, Poe took stock of what little provisions he had, which consisted of some pre-packaged meals and two or three water capsules.
Barely enough to survive long; but, he remembered the way out of the canyon. There was a forest or a jungle on the fringes of the desert, not far from where he'd come in... Maybe he'd have a better chance of surviving. Maybe...
Poe talked to BB-8 as he dragged the offline droid behind him on the sled, murmuring stupid jokes and ideas about the shenanigans they'd get up to once they were home free. And about the ear-bending lectures the General would give him.
He realized though, after two days, that he was hopelessly, terribly lost. His water was running low, his food rations were okay because of the portions he limited himself to, but once the fever set in, the logical side of Poe's brain told him he was going to die an inglorious death in the middle of nowhere, thanks to a bum leg and a bacta patch that did a piss poor job.
Poe kept going until he lost track of time, walking on and on until he collapsed, face first into his own tracks, shortly lamenting his own life choices as he drifted from the conscious world.
Man, did the universe have a twisted sense of kriffing humor.
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It was a simple day for you. You were on your way back from picking clean a crashed Republic-Era ship for parts to bring back home to improve some of your farming equipment. Maybe you could catch some spare credits to stash in your emergency pouch beneath the floorboards in your bedroom.
Your blurrg, Kari, crooned deeply as she pawed at the rocky sand with her stumpy legs. You sighed, adjusting your sun visor back down to shield your eyes from the harsh light of your homeworld's star. It was an unusually clear day for this time of year, and the sun was especially unforgiving. You couldn't wait to get into the safety of the treeline and back to your meager little farm in the forest.
"C'mon, Kari. The sooner we can get home, the sooner I can get this cart off you." You say, leaning down to pat her, one of your lekku falling over your shoulder to dangle down, the tip curling slightly.
Sometimes you envied how humans could cut their hair, but if you cut your lekku, you were as good as handicapped, with how sensitive yours were to touch. Yeah, your head-tails were longer than average, and irritating, but hey, they were yours.
The sun gleamed off your sweat-soaked skin beneath your fatigues as you nudged Kari with your heel in the stirrup to get her to continue moving.
But once again, the stubborn she-beast refused to move, rumbling deeply in protest as she shook her stubby little head.
You grit your teeth and squint against the harsh sun, and that's when you see it. Your other animal companion, a can-cell, Cviki, circling overhead, his iridescent wings fluttering against the updrafts, the sun glimmering off his bright blue-green carapace as he made another aerial pass.
You frowned. There should be nothing in that canyon except the roving pack of scavenging gutkurr you have long known to avoid. Growing up in Ryloth, you knew Twi'leks were tasty snacks for the large insectoids. So why was Cviki circling like something interesting was there? There couldn't possibly be people, even the smartest smugglers knew it was dangerous in those canyons, all the locals avoided them with good reason.
You click your tongue and jerk the reins, "Alright, ma sareen. We'll go see what has you both so interested."
You bring your fingers to your lips and make a high-pitched whistle. The tune Cviki understood as "I'm coming, be careful" since you'd raised him from a larvae.
Maybe whatever was in the canyon was worth some credits in salvage?
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You carefully marked your path into the narrow canyon as Cviki led you from above, knowing full well not marking your trail was a death wish to the unprepared.
But you were anything but unprepared.
Your lekku flopping in the breeze as Kari galloped through and in-between the canyon walls, you make an audible gasp as you yank the reins on Kari's harness, squeezing your feet instinctively in a command to stop.
A crashed speeder of some sort (honestly it probably looked better in the ground than when it was running) and the rotting corpses of three gutkurr lay in the craggy soil, smaller scavengers already hard at work picking the remains clean.
Living gutkurr smelled bad enough, but their dessicated corpses were horrible.
You dismounted Kari, patting her flank as you walked by, pulling your long blaster rifle from its sling low on your hips as you carefully walked around the wreckage, poking the twisted metal with the barrel of your rifle just in case.
Upon further inspection, you see nothing of value. Not even the droid that was surely busted judging from the scorch marks in the docking port.
Damn shame. A droid was just the thing you were missing to help out on your farm. Parts from whatever droid had been docked there really would have helped finish up the one you had in pieces back in your workshop.
Oh, well...
You kept looking around, noting that there was not only no sign of a droid, but no sign of the pilot of the speeder. You shoulder your rifle again and kneel down, touching the soul with your fingertips as you study the boot prints that had almost been fully covered by the drifting sands.
"Ah, hells." You mutter as you stand. Some poor fool had been sent on a fool's errand by some smuggler.
You turn, pushing your other lekku back over your shoulder as you whistle for Kari to approach. Cviki had stopped his flying to stick to one of the rocky walls, chittering down at you curiously.
You snap your fingers as you mount your blurrg once again, and whistle sharply at Cviki.
"Wachamio!" You shout up at him in Ryl, pointing down the canyon. "Let's go see if that poor sod is still breathing!"
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Yeah, he was breathing all right. Breathing and feverish. Hell, when you caught up to Cviki you had to swat at his beak when he picked up the human man's uninjured leg in his mouth and tugged, playfully trying to see if he would play.
Yeah... he was the guy who fought those gutkurr, all right. He got damned lucky.
"Oh, kriff." You sighed, kneeling next to him as he weakly swatted at you, his eyes dry and crusted closed. You could tell by the sweat and mucus that he was battling an infection, most likely from the deep injury to his leg. He probably got bit by that gutkurr; everyone knew to immediately disinfect any bites--if you survived an encounter with a gutkurr that is--because of the bacteria that lived in gutkurr saliva. It was a death sentence to anyone without proper medical supplies.
And when you'd looked inside of the medical kit at the wreckage, you could see he had none.
'Equal parts desperate and lucky.' You think to yourself as you effortlessly (and gently) wipe the crust from his eyes.
"Nu nala quin-nala wilo?" You ask him.
"Whuh--?" He rasped, his lips cracked and split from dehydration.
You roll your eyes with slight exasperation. The man was delirious, of course he wouldn't be able to understand you right now. And, for all you knew, he couldn't even speak Ryl.
"I'm going. To help. Youuuuu." You emphasize slowly and loudly in Basic as his head rolls around and he mumbles incoherently.
"Ugh, you better be worth it." You grunt, whistling for Kari to come closer so the cart was next to you.
Kriff, that man was all dead weight, you felt your muscles strain as you dragged him onto the cart that was still hooked to Kari. You had to shove your meager salvage off to the side to make room for him and his little BB-model astromech.
At least it wasn't a total bust, if this guy died, maybe you could get his droid back up and running to work for you. But those were thoughts for later.
Right now you had some dumb human to lug back home and try to save.
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Ugh... The only thing Poe knew was that he hurt. He hurt worse than that time he was tackled by that besalisk in that one cantina...
A drunken dare, mind you, but he still got flattened by the man's weight alone. There was still probably a dent in that cantina wall to this very day.
His head pounded, but he managed to drag his eyes open and force himself up with his palms.
His muscles ached and his skin hurt. He was shirtless and dressed down all the way to his undergarments.
Poe dropped back onto the bed he was resting on. It was comfortable, very much so; much more than the bunks on the ships and in the barracks he'd been hopping to and from the past few years.
So someone had saved his stupid kriffing ass, but he couldn't remember anything concrete.
He dropped his hand onto his forehead, the skin on his body peeling and flaking away as the sunburn healed; thinking back hard.
The last thing he remembered was his vision clearing somewhat, and then a bright light.
Wait...
He remembered a voice. A woman's voice, talking in a language he wasn't sure he was familiar with.
"Man... must've been an angel..." He chuckled sardonically, his voice cracked and throat dry.
Poe winced and looked to the bedside, seeing a glass of water next to him on the small table. Instinctively, he grabbed it and chugged it faster than a pint of cheap weequay beer.
By the Force, it felt amazing to finally have something wet his parched throat.
He turned his head when he heard whirring and a rolling sound approach the room, and a grin broke out on his face as the curtain was pushed open and a certain round little astromech rolled into the room with him.
"Aw, I knew I'd recognize the sound of those servos anywhere! BB! C'mere, you little--" He grunted, rolling off the bed and biting hit bottom lip as his injured leg hit the wooden floor.
BB-8 made several high pitched beeps and whirs in a chastising manner.
"I know, I know, but c'mere, you little cannonball!" Poe laughed through the pain, wrapping his thick arms around the round little droid as he trilled happily at his companion's better spirits.
BB-8 chirped and beeped again.
"Oh, my leg? It hurts like hell, where are we?" Poe asked, looking around. This was clearly somebody's bedroom, in some kind of small, prefab house that had been patched many times over. Probably purchased at a scrap yard. Hah. Like that kriffing speeder he wasted his credits on.
BB-8 whirred as he rolled about the room, making various noises as he explained to his human friend the situation.
"An infection?" His thick brows shot up. "Damn. Please tell me I looked beautiful when I went down?"
BB-8 stopped dead in his tracks, and the only part of him that moved was his head, and he made a few beeps.
"Okay yeah I knew you were out, it was rhetorical. Who do you think dragged you through that canyon?" Poe sighed, shaking his head, his sweaty curls dangling.
BB-8 tweeted in reply.
"A woman? Wait, so I wasn't hallucinating that part?" Poe blinked at the tiny droid as he wheeled his way up to him once more, bumping into him a few times affectionately.
"Okay, yeah, I get it. I owe the lady. Definitely owe her if she fixed you up, little buddy." Poe smiled warmly, patting the droid's chassis sweetly.
He was so caught up in the reunion with his partner that he almost jumped out of his skin when heavy bootsteps halted in the doorway and the curtain was pulled back, revealing... you.
Hot, gorgeous, sweaty and badass you. You were covered in grime and dirt from working the field you had and fixing your tiller that had crapped out on you. Hot damn, you were probably the hottest Twi'lek he'd ever seen, even your head-tails looked absolutely luscious.
You had initially sent BB-8 inside to fetch a tool, and when he hadn't returned you came inside to see why.
You tugged off your rawhide gloves and leaned in the doorway, smirking at the human as you shoved your gloves into the waistband of your pulled-down coveralls.
'C'mon Poe, put on the charm...' He chastised himself.
He cleared his throat and gave you his best debonair smile along with his signature quirked brow and squinted eyes; the smile that had won him the companionship from many women (and guys and others in-between) throughout the galaxy.
But he couldn't fathom the fact that he looked positively pathetic with a kriffed up leg, lying half-naked on your bedroom floor.
That is... until you broke out laughing, and BB-8 spun in a circle, joining in on your revelry at his attempt at flirtation.
Poe sighed deeply, dropping his cocky expression. "Eh, so... Uh... you're the lady who I remember from the canyon, right?"
You nod, your lekku quivering from within the soft leather quiver you'd bound them in, "Yana."
Poe blinked up at you. You did speak Basic just then, right? His hearing just messed up for a second? Right...
"So, on behalf of... well, me and my little friend here, thank you for saving us!" He grins awkwardly. "What's your name, miss..?"
You smirk again and utter something, your name, perhaps? And then ask, "Zul nala z'rate nala quora?"
BB-8 speaks to you for Poe when he doesn't answer, merely giving you a concerned look as he began to fear he was stuck with a woman who didn't speak Basic. He really needs to brush up on his xeno-linguistics...
You click your tongue and shake your head, "Su'un na, mesh'e yahte." You roll your eyes and tip your head to the side and tell him your name, this time clearly.
"Oh, man, am I happy you can understand me." Poe grinned. "Uh... Can you... help me off the floor? Please?"
"Yahte." You sigh deeply, walking over to him.
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The man you'd saved was someone called "Poe Dameron" a supposed "master pilot" for some "resistance". When Poe mentioned your skills as a medic and your ability to patch droids, he even hurled the suggestion to you that you join up.
You refused.
"What? Why?" Poe asked incredulously, setting his fork down on your tiny table as you both picked at your humble meal.
"Because I saw enough fighting when the Empire remnants sacked my hometown when I was a small child. They did it out of sheer spite for General Syndulla's role in the destruction of the last Death Star. I lost both of my parents, I lost my grandmother. If it wasn't for Numa saving me from the rubble I would have had nothing." You say, your lekku trembling at the memory of your home being blasted to smithereens.
Poe wilted. The two of you were close in age, the two of you were young enough and old enough to remember the Death Star, the war, the people you loved...
And, yeah, he understood your reasoning. Why get swallowed up by the war that devoured your family in front of you, when you can be a hermit, farming healing herbs and delivering produce and salted meats to one of the smaller towns further north?
"Okay... I'm sorry." Poe said, his eyes downcast as his own sour memories played back in his mind.
"No, no..." You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I shouldn't have blown up on you like that. Kriff, I swear, living in the woods shortens my temper."
Poe smiled at you and stretched out his leg beneath the table, the brace you'd rigged up for him squeaking as he bent his knee.
"How's the leg?" You pipe in.
"Oh, it's definitely better. Whatever kinda magic plants you got, they're certainly doing the trick!" Poe grinned at you.
"It's not magic. It's just natural medicine." You waved your fork at him. "And don't forget, you owe me for using half my stash of bacta to help fix your leg. You still got a few weeks to pay off that debt to me, Mor'ski."
Poe held up his hands innocently, grinning sideways at you. "Heyyy... I'm a man of my word! And the deadline on that shipment is... Well it technically doesn't have one."
"Did you ever think that it didn't have one because your contact knew sending people into those canyons was a death sentence? Because they knew odds of one person surviving in that canyon were like, maybe 2 to 20?" You snort. "Sounds to me that the people who hired you have been feeding people to the gutkurrs until somebody could finally nab that cache."
Poe blinked and you could easily tell that the thought had never crossed his mind.
Yahte.
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"Careful, Mor'ski." You snort, leaning on the fence as Kari bucks Poe off her saddle once again; before shuffling on to drink from her trough. BB-8 makes loud beeping and trilling as he spins in a circle, enjoying some humor at Poe's expense.
"Ugh!" Poe groaned.
Kari huffed and made a short bellow, trotting back around to nudge Poe with her flat snout.
Poe pats her as he sits up, "Okay, you like me but not enough for me to ride you? I mean I knew my charm worked on the ladies, but c'mon, I can't even stay on you for five seconds!"
"That's because I've raised her almost directly from birth, Poe." You grin victoriously before clicking your teeth, uttering a few words in Ryl before Kari abandons Poe altogether to rush up to you for affection.
"That's it, ma sareen." You coo at her.
"Uhh!" Poe scoffs as he stands up, dusting off the old worn pants you'd loaned him, his leg brace creaking as he walked over to you.
The damage Poe had sustained to his leg from the gutkurr was bad. Bad enough that even your small stash of bacta patches (some of which were probably past their best by date...) couldn't heal all the damage or regenerate properly. Or perhaps it was from the bacteria eating away at his flesh when you found him. You weren't sure, but the man would walk with a slight gait for the rest of his life.
But of course, knowing Poe, he would use it to his advantage just to cock his hips out to get some attention.
You were almost gonna miss that idiot when he was well enough to leave, and his cute little droid, too. It was nice to have company after so long alone.
"Well what about him?" Poe asked, pointing to Cviki, who had just plucked a fruit from a nearby tree and ate it messily. "I bet I could ride him!"
You laugh and smack your thigh, "Oh, be my guest! But remember, Mor'ski: Cviki is a can-cell. Not a fighter. If he decides he doesn't want you in the pilot seat anymore..."
Poe swallowed a bit nervously.
Maybe he should stick with the blurrg.
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Three weeks had gone by, and you knew Poe leaving was inevitable. He had finally done away with the leg brace and you inspected his healing leg. It was coming along nicely. It would scar, for sure, but he'd be able to walk.
And you were right, before. He did walk with a gait, one he carried with confidence in combination with that aggravatingly handsome smirk of his.
Could this man find a dark side in anything? Other than the First Order? You doubted it, he seemed good at turning bad situations around.
And oh, you would miss listening to Poe dote on that cute little astromech, BB-8. He was like a father doting on his infant child. You even caught him scooping him up and carrying him if BB-8 couldn't flawlessly roll over something (though BB probably pretended he couldn't just to be picked up by Poe).
It's a wonder that droid got anything done at all! You remember when you first brought him online and he assumed you were some nefarious individual who had hurt his pilot and friend.
It wasn't until you physically brought the astromech in to see the unconscious and feverish Poe to earn that little droid's trust. With BB-8's know-how, you were able to fix a few systems in your own defunct protocol droid that you honestly assumed you'd have to fully replace, making it that much cheaper to get the old droid up and running. Once they left, anyway. You weren't in a rush to have the help anymore. You liked having Poe around, his stupid snarky comments and weird giggle of his...
And you'd be lying if you didn't catch yourself staring, sometimes, too when he was working on helping with your monthly harvest.
He was skinny from lack of decent rations, when you brought him in, but after being with you for a few weeks, getting a proper diet and food in him, he bulked up.
He was muscular, sure, but not that almost scarily-defined tone so many found attractive. Poe's figure had softened out around his muscles, giving his belly a slight pooch and the dimples on his back to become more prominent. The softness was certainly appealing...
He looked handsome healthy.
Why did you just think that? Why did you just--
Your hands stopped as you tied down your equipment for the coming storm system that was approaching from the north, and you looked up to observe Poe for a moment.
Poe was busy helping cover your younger plants so they could survive the tough winds. He'd even helped corral Cviki into his créche so he wouldn't get injured. As thick as his carapace was, all it would take was one piece of debris to shred his wings and he could risk being permanently grounded.
Cviki seemed to socialize with Poe rather well, chittering and purring when Poe would pat his bulbous head, his wings fluttering curiously and excitedly when Poe would launch a small branch in the air for him to fetch and bring back.
Poe was a masterful pilot--if his words were to be believed--but something inside you told him he was also suited for a calmer life. Like yours, running a farm, taking care of the animals; not fighting in a near-pointless cycle you couldn't understand.
But, it was his choice to make, and his life to live. And nobody in the galaxy could take it from him.
But little did you know, that you were already tempting him to...
You rushed then, to tighten the wenches on the equipment bindings as Poe covered the fresh plants, grunting as the wind tousled his hair into his face and struggled to get the tarps down.
You look up at the sky and frown when the angry and flashing storm clouds approach faster than anticipated. It could be a short, fast-moving storm, that was the hope.
But you were worried. If the clouds began to circle...
At least you had a cellar.
"Poe! Come on! The plants are covered!" You wince when a small twig is caught in the wind and smacks into one of your lekku as the wind pushes them about. You forgot to wear your sheath today and were paying for it.
"You sure?" He called out to you.
"Yeah! Trust me, I'm sure! Now we need to get inside before the main storm hits!" You wave your hand. "Wachamio!"
Poe took the spare second to slam the mallet down on the stake for one last measure, before hopping to his feet, BB-8 chirping and tweeting from the threshold of your door, urging you both to hurry up.
Once inside, you quickly spin around and use the metal bar and slot it into place so the door wouldn't blow inwards on you; all your windows had been properly covered and locked with the metal panels so they wouldn't get blown in as well.
Not one moment later, you begin to hear the first fat raindrops pelt the walls and roof of your home from outside, deep rolling thunder announcing the arrival.
"Well, uh... You ever play sabacc?" Poe grinned awkwardly, and you slowly grinned.
BB-8 made a sound that could be universally translated in any language as: "I've got a bad feeling about this."
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It was just downright unfair. Clearly the universe did not favor him, or his hands at this sabacc game...
He was down to his socks and underwear while you were confidently sitting across the table, the only things missing from your outfit was your shirt, leaving you in your breastband only from the waist up, showing off the small scars and loosely defined muscles from your hard-working lifestyle poking through the light softness of your body.
You lean in as you see him begin to sweat, frowning at the cards in his hand. You'd both agreed on a simple game of sabacc, but because there were no credits to be put in the pot, you both settled on your clothes as the storm waxed and waned outside, rattling the walls and making his ears pop. He wondered how the sensitive little cones that were your sensory organs felt in the storm. Could ear-cones pop? It was a thought for another time.
"What's the matter, Mor'ski?" You rest your chin in your palm, grinning like a firaxan shark.
"...Afraid you can't bring much to the table?"
Oh, that was a low blow. He could feel the blush rise in his neck as his face heated up.
"Hah! Please, I doubt you could handle aaaallll this." Poe sputtered as he leaned back and huffed, forcing his confident demeanor back to the surface.
"Oh, I d'nno... I've probably handled farming equipment that was bigger." You toss back, moving a fresh pick between your lips and teeth as you boredly thumb through your cards.
"...Okay now you're just being mean."
"Hmm..." You look back up at him, a cold smile on your soft-looking lips. Poe felt a cold shiver creep up his spine when you looked at him.
And it was even worse when you flattened your cards on the table.
"Pure sabacc."
"Kriff!" Poe groaned, slapping his own bad hand on the table and pushing his hand through his curls.
"Oh, come on! I'm down to my skivvies, here!" He whined.
"Oh, I know." You giggle, batting your eyelashes at him and your lekku curl upwards a bit. "I'm not planning on making you completely strip. I'm feeling merciful..." You purred.
"...What are you planning?"
"The storm's let up a bit for now..." You hum casually, tapping your fingers on the top of your worn wooden table.
Poe blinked at you, his eyebrows raised up on his forehead. "No way..."
"One solid minute." You say, sticking your finger up. "Run around in the rain for one solid minute."
"Oh, come on!" Poe groaned, slapping his fist on the table.
BB-8 chirped and spun in a circle, almost laughing.
"Oh, whose side are you on?!" Poe glared at the droid with a scowl.
BB-8 whistled and wheeled over to your side, beeping and whirring in reply, making you grin even wider.
"You said you're a man of your word, Dameron..." You chuckle.
"....Agh! Kriff, why are women like this?!" Poe groaned, scrambling his hands through his raven curls.
"A bet's a bet..."
"Fine!" Poe scoffed, shooting to his feet and marching over to the front door, where your boots both lay.
He grumbled under his breath the whole time as he shoved his feet into them. Ah, well, at least the view from behind was nice...
You bite your lip as he pulls the metal bar free and the door rattles from the sudden gust of wind. Poe grabs the latch and it takes most of his strength to keep it from swinging open.
Oh, the moment he darted out into the freezing rain was glorious. The yelp he made as the first freezing drops made contact with his skin had you squirming and cackling madly as you clapped your hands and stamped your feet excitedly, BB-8 spinning in place and tweeting loudly.
He ran in a circle with his arms held out wide, shouting expletives the whole time as bumps erupted all over his body as his boots squished in the mud.
Once the minute was over with, Poe scurried back inside, soaked to the bone and shivering, his teeth chattering as he looked at you.
"Happy...?" Poe grunted.
"Very much so." You giggle girlishly.
"Good because I'm never playing sabacc with you again."
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You both sat on the fence, watching as Kari ate from her feed trough, bellowing in between bites, her thick tail swaying as she eats.
"So..." Poe began.
"Hm?" You mused, spitting the weed from between your teeth.
"I still have that cache hidden in the canyon... I mean, I know you've already helped me out and everything but..."
You quirk your brow inquisitively. "You want me to help you transport it to the spaceport."
"...Well. Okay, I mean... Eh. Yeah..?" He said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't have a mode of transportation or anything, and... I can give you a cut?"
You slowly look at him, blinking. "You'd pay me to help?"
"Yeah! I don't see why not... Plus it'll help pay back and replace the bacta patches I used... Might help pay for parts for that droid of yours..."
Your teeth gnaw at the inside of your cheek, thinking hard as you look down at the mud. He made some good points... He has no ride, he still needs those credits or his near death would have been for nothing...
And those credits really could help you out.
"Okay, Mor'ski. I'm in." You reply, slapping your palm into his.
Poe grinned and gave your hand a firm tug.
"Knew you would be, doll. Now let's get to it."
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You watched as Poe slid the last crate into the cart next to BB-8, fastening them down with wench straps so nothing moved. There had been no sign of gutkurrs since the two of you returned to the canyon, but that's also probably from the musk bombs you made to irritate their sense of smell.
Maybe if he'd hired a local guide through the canyons he wouldn't have gotten so screwed in the first place.
But if he did, he wouldn't have met you.
Hindsight is... well. A funny thing when you think about it.
"Do you even know what's in those crates?" You ask him as you mount Kari's saddle.
"Eh... no." Poe cringed.
"Did you ever think to check??" You frown at him.
Poe's gloved hands pat the crate in front of him, and even BB-8 whirs curiously.
"Ryloth is known for its spice production, Poe..." You sigh softly. "Interspace gangs like to use it for drugs, remember?"
"Yeah..." He said, gnawing on his bottom lip.
Screw it.
He popped the latches and peeked into the crate.
There were different objects, all bearing the sigil of the old Empire. Poe felt his blood run cold as he tossed the lid completely open, and began rifling through it.
Several objects had the Empire logo scratched out, some had them painted over. It was clear this cache no longer belonged to them, but...
"What is it?" You ask him.
"...A bunch of old Empire junk. The weapons are pretty much useless, their cells are drained. There's a few other things in here, but... They look like they'd only be useful to a damn collector than anybody of importance." Poe said, his body relaxed slightly. Nothing really dangerous were in these crates...
Except.
"Holy kriff." He breathed, reaching down to a small wooden box. It was half a foot long, and surprisingly, there was an image burned into the lid. A symbol he knew well as a young man, scrawled and graffiti'd on many Empire propaganda posters.
The symbol of the Jedi Order.
"What?" You asked, turning to look at him.
Poe reached in and pulled out a lightsaber. Its once shiny metal surface scuffed and dented, the black tips at the end of the handle flaked of paint, the clip snapped long ago. This lightsaber had been through hell, and had probably even seen action as far back as the Clone Wars...
"Is... Is that..." You stumble.
"A kriffing lightsaber." Poe said reverently. He slowly and carefully set the lightsaber back inside the velvet lined box, closing it and gently placing it back inside the crate.
"Nothing in here is dangerous, except the lightsaber, maybe. But nobody really knows how to use these except..."
"Jedi and Sith." You murmur. "Who would want that stuff if it's useless?"
"Like I said, a collector maybe. Or a dealer in war relics." Poe said, closing the crate again.
"Poe..."
"I know, but c'mon... Let's get going while we still got the sun."
"Right." You say slowly. You pat Kari's flank and jerk your head. "Get on, Mor'ski. We got at least a two hours' ride ahead of us."
Poe seemed wary. He'd ridden in the cart the whole trek out here, and all the failed attempts to ride that blurrg of yours made him hesitant to hop on her.
"Relax, if I'm riding with you, she'll be fine. Unless you wanna ride Cviki?" You smile wryly, the both of you looking up to where Cviki was poking at the rocks with his beak, his mandibles picking up smaller insectoids to munch on here and there.
"...No I'm good." He looked back at you as he stepped up to Kari's side.
As he grabbed onto your open palm with his, he looked at you with curiosity in his dark eyes.
"You good yourself, crazy lady?" He jabbed playfully.
"Rahn fanyo. Er... I'm fine." You mumble as he takes his seat behind you, politely placing his hands on your waist.
It was a gentlemanly thing to do, to avoid grabbing anything he shouldn't... but once Kari got into a good and decent trot, he'd bounce off her haunches faster than a blood fly.
"Poe, you're gonna need to hold on tighter than that. Or I'm gonna leave you in the dust and collect this bounty myself..."
Poe chuckled and awkwardly looped his arms around your waist, carefully adjusting it so your sensitive lekku were draped over his shoulders, so he couldn't squish them on accident.
"Like this?"
You rolled your eyes and tugged his hands until they were almost clasped together and his chin was practically on your shoulder. "There. Because being polite while riding a blurrg is gonna get you a concussion, yahte."
"Okay, you gotta teach me Ryl, doll." Poe chuckled.
You smirked over your shoulder as you snapped Kari's reins, nudging her with your heels.
"That would ruin the fun, Mor'ski."
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You watched as a group of children fed Cviki fruit out of their palms, giggling and laughing when his long tongue unfurled to wrap around their fingers and clean their hands of any lingering juices left over. Cviki was very approachable, for a cen-cell.
Kari on the other hand... She didn't really like anybody other than you. And, well, maybe Poe now, you supposed.
You sighed as you watched Poe speak with his contact, a rather fat Twi'lek man who was obviously well off. A broker, you supposed. One who sets up people with jobs like these. Technically avoiding any trouble with the law because brokers around these parts were simply like bulletin boards for smugglers, you could pick what jobs they conveniently had around, and if you got in trouble, they could disavow any connections to you while still making decent credits.
And it was obviously a very good front he was wearing, judging by the bejeweled rings squished onto the man's fat fingers.
When the two began walking over to you, you groaned softly, Kari huffing when she sensed your irritation. You detested people walking up to you when you didn't want to talk.
Your emotions were high for reasons you couldn't quite place, and a feeling of anxiety gnawed in the pit of your stomach.
Poe was leaving.
Soon, he would load the cargo onto this broker's ship and he would leave Ryloth, possibly forever. You couldn't blame him, after almost getting turned into a tasty snack for a pack of gutkurrs.
"And this lovely woman must be the person who saved your skin, eh, Dameron?" The Twi'lek man chortled, his fat jiggling merrily as he elbowed Poe in the side.
His thin mouth was stretched wide, making his cheeks appear even larger and more plump, his bright yellow skin drawing little attention to his sharp teeth.
"Yep, my savior all right. Worked me right to the bone to pay back half my debt to her after those ugly bugs tried to snack on me." Poe grinned back.
"My my, sounds like a keeper!" The man smirked suggestively at you two.
You rolled your eyes and curled your lekku slightly. The gesture was hidden behind you, but anyone walking by could see the irritation and hostility in the gesture.
Men have tried to get your attention for years, and certainly, a man of status like this was always looking for aides or escorts of some kind. That life wasn't for you, not one tiny bit.
"She's.... Uh. A good friend." Poe said, smiling at you.
His soft eyes eased the tension in you somewhat, but you were still jittery and anxious. One, about Poe leaving; two, all the people bustling about the spaceport; and three, these confusing kriffing feelings regarding the quirky pilot.
The Twi'lek man handed Poe a small box, likely containing his payment, and BB-8 drove into his shins twice.
"I know, I know, buddy! I was getting to that!" Poe sighed exasperatedly at the astromech.
"I'll make sure the dock officials don't snoop, say our goodbyes." The broker winked as he turned to walk away.
"So..." Poe awkwardly began.
"Mhm." You hum.
"I'm glad you dragged my sorry carcass out of that canyon." Poe chuckled, his fingers nervously brushing the sides of the box he held.
"I'm happy my effort wasn't wasted when Kari didn't eat you." You snort in reply, smiling despite yourself.
Poe laughed softly and opened the box, plucking up a few chips into his fist. He held out his hand and placed the silver and gold chips into your palm gently.
"Here. I'm a man of my word, remember?" He smiled at you warmly. "And I promised you a cut. This should cover the bacta, and some parts for that droid of yours. Plus, y'know. To get yourself somethin' nice."
When he winked, you felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you laughed.
"Yeah, well..." You shrugged, not sure what to say.
"...Hey." Poe said, his bottom lip sliding beneath his teeth for a moment before licking it.
"So, I know this is sudden, but--"
"Sir! Your ship is cleared and ready to go! You got five minutes!" A dockhand shouted from nearby, startling Kari to the point she made a concerned bellow and stumbled back a bit.
You shove the credits into your belt pouch, and coo and shush at Kari, patting her down affectionately to ease her sudden fright as Poe shouts back at the dockhand.
"Ah... Great. Fun." Poe sighed as he turned back to you, noticing how your lekku were twitching and swaying as you struggled to calm your blurrg mount.
You didn't turn back to face him, biting your plush bottom lip as you patted down Kari, trying now to calm yourself as much as her.
Poe was leaving.
Probably one of the only people you'd call "friend" was leaving, and then you'd go right back to your boring tedium from before, while he flew headlong into danger with BB-8 by his side.
You couldn't really hear him as he spoke to you, imagining just how many horrible ways he could possibly die out there, at the hands of the First Order, or some pirate scum...
You did however, become aware of how close he was when he slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you against him. You barely had time to gasp and ask what he was doing when he pressed his lips against yours in a rushed, but fiery kiss.
He pulled back from you, winking as BB-8 whirled and trilled, spinning in place a few times.
"See ya around, doll. And next time I'm in town, I'll visit."
You were left, blinking, mouth agape as he sashayed with that new gait of his towards the hangar of his ship, BB-8 hot on his heels, tweeting a farewell at you.
You stayed like that, the tips of your lekku twining around one another twice, your face flushed with a different shade as the ship shakily lifted off, blasting off into the clouds.
...If he did come back...
"Come on, Kari." You say softly before whistling to get Cviki's attention.
"Let's go get some shopping done."
Maybe you would buy yourself something nice to wear.
💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫
Poe sighed as his ship launched into hyperspace, feeling sad as he kissed Ryloth's atmosphere goodbye. It wasn't as beautiful or as sweet as your lips were, for sure.
But it made his heart throb with sadness all the same...
He punched in a few buttons and the hologram of the broker appeared as the message began to play.
"Poe, my boy! Safe travels. I'm sure you and your companion had a lovely farewell, no?" He chuckled gleefully.
Poe rolled his eyes as he continued. "My contact got word back to me, and she's pleased that the cargo was intact and was impressed you were alive! How about that?" The man clapped his hands and laughed again.
"Well, just letting you know," His eyes twinkled. "Miss Kanata sends her thanks and hopes you enjoy the extra credits she left in your pay!"
Poe frowned at the name.
Wait... Miss Who?
💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫
Leia watched as Poe studied the small hologram of a Twi'lek woman in front of him, squinting and mouthing the words as they left her lips.
The older woman smiled as she walked up to him, her long robes shuffling softly as her slippers padded the metal flooring of the base.
"Pick up a new language to learn, Poe?" She asked, her brown eyes shimmering as she sat next to him.
Poe almost jumped, unusually engrossed in the tutorial program he had been watching. He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck and laughed.
"You could say that." He replied.
"I noticed you walking with a limp, now, Poe." Her tone switched to a more affectionate and maternal tone. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah... Someone on Ryloth saved my hide from a bad sitch. Unfortunately I'm probably gonna be stuck with it forever, but I'd trade a limp for my life any day of the week." He grinned.
Leia hummed with a sweet smile as her eyes were drawn to the paused tutorial. "Fall in love with the local flavor, huh?" She grinned mischievously.
Poe stiffened and coughed into his hand, a blush to his cheeks.
"You... Could say that."
💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫💫
Twi'leki/Ryl translation:
Wachamio! = "Let's go!"
Ma sareen = "My Sweet"
Yana = "Yes"
Wa-janeel = "Follow me"
Rahn fanyo = "I'm fine" or, alternatively, "Don't worry"
Twi'leki/Ryl Phrases I've smacked together/come up with (idk I'm not a linguist):
Nu nala quin-nala wilo? = "Do you know where you are?"
Zul nala z'rate nala quora? = "Can you tell me your name?"
Su'un na, mesh'e yahte. = "Oh great, he's an idiot."
Yahte = "Idiot"
Mor'ski = "Flyboy"
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kaiartx · 5 months
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poor logain and rand </3
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spongebobafettywap · 1 month
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Cardinal is a character created during Krakoa : He is one of Mister Sinister's experiments with DNA splicing in the distant future. He is a Chimera made from Nightcrawler, Rachel Summers and Ajax. If we have to simplify things, Cardinal would be Nightcrawler's biological grandson.
There are two ways you can describe Cardinal physically :
- Nightcrawler if he had red fuzz, red skin, red hair and red eyes.
- Azazel if he had ectrodactyly, red hair and red eyes.
In other words, Nightcrawler if he was ugly and disgusting instead of perfect following Mystique's weird logic in the retcon (I've been bothered by this since reading it... Am I the only one here who feels like that ?).
Yeah I thought so.
Yup I mean Mystique making remarks like that about Red skin and the narrative doesn't call her out on that? I thought X-Men was supposed to be about how it doesn't matter what skin colour you are.
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kedreeva · 2 years
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Eddie/Steve Sentinel AU
(My askbox is open for ST prompts!)(Previous Prompts)
For those that don't know what a Sentinel AU is, it's from a 90s TV show by the name "The Sentinel" and the wikipedia read is a lot of fun, but I'll explain it some here too, with liberties taken. Every fandom deserves a little Sentinel AU... as a treat. So when my best friend asked me... well! Enjoy!
-----
Steve wakes in a cold sweat, the overwhelming iron taste of blood in his mouth. He struggles away from the images of demobats grabbing at his flesh, of the feel of a serrated tail wrapped around his throat. He tries to shut out the memory of their shrieking, the acrid scent of them, and falls deeper into the taste of his own blood.
He’s choking on it. He’d dying.
All he can taste is the metallic tang of blood.
The thick, revolting flavor of it taking over everything else.
He cannot hear the screams, see the bats, feel them.
There’s only blood; red blood cells, softer in flavor than the white, the mild plasma that tastes almost eggy at this level.
He scrabbles for anything else, but there’s nothing.
He’d drowning. He’s dying.
He cannot get out.
He’s dying.
------
Robin knocks frantically on Steve’s front door while Eddie mills around in the garden behind her. “Steve!” she shouts, using the flat of her palm to slap faster at the door. Not as loud, so she switches back to the side of her fist. “STEVE!”
“Hey,” Eddie says, under her racket. “Key.”
She whirls and finds him holding a small stone statue of a- a snail, she thinks, and in his other hand is a small, brass key. She snatches it from his grasp and attacks the door.
“He’s gotta be home, his car’s here,” she says as she fails to get the key in the hole.
He’s gotta be here. He’s gotta be okay.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Eddie says mildly.
“Of course you would say that. You’ve skipped class and, like, jobs, and- and why can’t I open this fucking door,” she snarls, and then backs up and holds herself very still and tense for a second.
“I’m going to forgive you for that,” Eddie says with a snort, “because you’re worried.”
“Steve doesn’t skip work,” Robin tells him, and then calmly sticks out the key to the keyhole. It slides in and she twists the handle, following the door open like she’s a part of it.
She’s haring up the stairs to Steve’s room before Eddie can even cross the threshold. The door to his bedroom is open, so she bursts inside and freezes when she sees Steve in the bed. He’s lying there, eyes open and completely, utterly still. Her heart seizes up, strangling a broken sound from her before she sees him blink, and relief nearly crashes her entire system.
“You asshole!” she exclaims as she tries to relax, crossing the room to his bedside. “You scared the shit out of me!”
He doesn’t answer, or move, just continues to stare blankly up at the ceiling. She can hear Eddie climbing the stairs as she leans over Steve and touches his arm gently. He doesn’t respond at all. She pinches him, to the same effect. She pinches him harder just as Eddie peeks into the room.
“He’s- something’s wrong,” Robin says weakly.
Eddie steps in further and cranes his neck a little to peer at Steve without getting too close. “He’s breathing, right?”
“Y-… Yeah,” Robin says, after checking quickly. “It’s like he’s asleep.”
“With his eyes open.” Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe he had, like, a stroke or something? We should call an ambulance.”
“We can’t just call an ambulance,” Robin says, stricken. “If it’s… upside down shit, we can’t call a hospital. I don’t have the number for the lab, do you?”
Eddie shakes his head and then jumps, and reaches to pull a battered wallet out of his back pocket. “Actually, I might.” He extracts a tattered business card with a hand-written number on the back of it, and passes it to Robin.
She snatches it up. “Okay. I’ll call Owens. You need to call Nancy and the others, get them all over here.”
“Wait, what? Robin!” Eddie calls after her as she bolts for the nearest phone. “I don’t know Nancy’s number!”
“Then call Dustin!” she tosses over her shoulder, and heads down the stairs.
-----
“Well,” Owens says, after the latest head shake from his pet scientist, “we’re not finding any residue from the other dimension. His wounds have checked out as far as we can tell, and he’s not- he’s not braindead.”
“Well he’s clearly not okay, either!” Nancy spits venomously. Eddie’s glad he’s on this side of her ire.
“I know, I understand your frustration, but we’re going to have to do some more testing, see if we can figure out what’s wrong with him, and if any of you are at risk of something similar. Any of you felt… weird?”
“Weird!” Dustin exclaims in disbelief. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Do we feel like we might be falling into a waking coma?”
“He’s not-”
“-in a coma,” the kids all chant together, and Owens nods like he should have expected that, one hand sweeping as if they’ve just proved his point for him.
“Can we see him, at least?” Dustin asks. It sounds like a demand, but Eddie’s pretty sure he’d stay in the hall if Owens told him to. At least for now.
“Sure, kid,” Owens says, stepping aside so the group can shuffle back into the room.
Eddie lets everyone in before him, catching Robin’s eye as she passes. She looks like she’s going to be sick, and he wishes he could tell her it’s going to be okay, but he has no idea. The Upside Down had nearly taken his life last year, and the thought of facing it again still makes him feel skittish. So much for bravery, but it was fucking scary and he’d done it then and he’d probably do it again if they have to, so he thinks he deserves a break for feeling terrified at the prospect.
“Did you check his mouth?” Dustin asks from beside the bed.
“His mouth?” Owens asks, looking at his scientist, who shrugs. “No, it seems we did not check his mouth, why?”
“There’s blood,” Dustin says, pointing. Eddie leans to see, and sure enough, there’s a minuscule smudge of blood at the seam of Steve’s lips.
“There’s blood,” Owens says at his scientist, aggressively, and then gestures toward the gear they’d carried in. They’d been afraid to move Steve out of the room, not sure what it would do to him if they couldn’t tell what was happening. He turns back to the group. “It’s possible he had a seizure, maybe he bit his lip or his tongue.”
Eddie barely hears, staring at the little smear of red, the open-eyes, the slack expression. The waking coma as Dustin had called it. He’s never seen it in person, but he knows it, the haunting familiarity of it, down to his bones, down to his soul.He swallows and leans over the bed, bracing himself with one hand, and touches Steve’s cheek. No reaction at all from Steve, but the touch echoes inside of Eddie.
“What are you doing?” hisses Nancy, and Owens grabs for him but Dustin knocks his hand away.
“Eddie,” Dustin says. “You’re not thinking…?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, absently. He uses a finger to pull Steve’s chin down a little, enough to part his lips and see teeth stained in fresh blood. He hasn’t even tried to swallow any of it, to clear his mouth. “Shit.”
“Boys,” Owens says, like a question.
“You know how to test it,” Dustin ventures.
“I know, just- shut up for a minute. Everyone.”
Eddie steels himself and maneuvers until he can just barely push past Steve’s lips, touch a fingertip against his tongue to introduce a fresh taste, something other than blood. Steve’s eyes close, a shudder twitching at his frame as he breathes out, the first reaction he’s had since Eddie and Robin had first found him. Eddie pulls back like he’s been shot at, hand tingling.
“Fuck.”
“What’s going on?” Robin asks, looking between the two of them like she’s going to climb over the bed and strangle them both if someone doesn’t start explaining what's wrong with her best friend.
“It’s not the Upside Down,” Dustin says, catching Eddie’s eye. He’s the only one Eddie had ever told. The only one that had stood a chance at recognizing the same symptoms Eddie just had. “Steve’s a Sentinel.”
“A what?” Robin says at the same time Mike says: “No way. No way, man. Steve?”
“Yes, Steve,” Dustin snaps, twisting to look at Mike.
“What’s a sentinel,” Max asks, exasperated, before they can begin to argue about Steve.
“It’s a person with vastly superior senses,, like practically a super power,” Nancy says, causing everyone to gawk at her. She shrugs one shoulder and adds: “I found out about it when we were trying to help Max. Sometimes one of a Sentinel’s senses gets so overpowering that they actually get lost in it, and it sends them into a- a sort of waking coma. If that’s what’s going on, then he needs a Guide.”
Eddie’s eyes close, lips pursing.
“Eddie,” Dustin says, wheedling.
“Eddie?” Robin prompts. She’s already caught on, then.
“Shit,” Eddie cusses under his breath, and then: “Shit, shit, SHIT. Fuck.” He balls up his fists near his head and then releases them. “Absolutely fucking not.”
“A party member needs you,” Dustin says firmly.
“He can’t- he-” Eddie stares down at Steve, lips now widely smudged with blood, breathing even and eyes still open, empty.
“Eddie?” Nancy says quietly, drawing his attention up. “Are you… a Guide?”
He nods, feeling sick. His mother had been one, when he was little. She’d taken off to Guide a Sentinel, had never come back. He’d sworn he wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t follow in those footsteps. Wayne had tried to teach him, but Wayne hadn’t know any better than Eddie had, hadn’t known more than Eddie’s mom had already taught him by then. Eddie had spent his life wanting nothing to do with this garbage, and it had somehow snuck right in the front door.
Everyone’s looking at him, though, so he sighs and closes his eyes to get away from them. “It’s not… exactly… casual,” he bites out. “Sentinels get… they don’t just change Guides, and I’ve never- I might mess it up, I’ve never done it before. I’m just supposed to make that decision for him? Possibly bind him to a fucked up Guide?”
“Well, it’s not like he can choose right now,” Dustin says, barbed. “So, are you going to do it or are you just going to let him die?”
“Die!” Robin exclaims.
“Hey, hey,” Owens says, holding his hands up, splayed, to tone down the volume. “No one is dying today. Young man, do you know of any other Guides nearby that we might call upon, if you don’t want to do it?”
The thought of someone else doing it only makes Eddie feel sicker. He’s not sure how much of what he feels is fear of messing up and how much is bone-deep rage at the thought of anyone else touching Steve. He’s not sure either feeling isn’t being caused by being this close to an active Sentinel in need of him.
“I’ll do it,” he snarls finally, because the thought of someone else doing it makes him angrier than the thought of messing up scares him. “Everyone else needs to get out, though.”
He’s sure he can wake Steve up from this, he just has no idea how Steve will come out of it- softly or violently or terrified… broken, because Eddie doesn’t do it well enough. He’s also just… he’s embarrassed, for himself on some level for his inexperience, but definitely for Steve, for them both to be as vulnerable as they’re about to be. He doesn’t want Steve waking up and being immediately subjected to the knowledge that everyone saw him like this.
Dustin stays until the last second, then gives his shoulder a squeeze and leaves as well. He peeks around the door the second before he closes it, and Eddie gives them all a minute to move away. They won’t all go- Robin and Dustin and probably Nancy will stay in the hall. It’s enough.
Gingerly, Eddie takes a deep breath and a seat on the edge of the bed, and reaches to brush his fingertips over Steve’s wrist. There’s no reaction, but he hadn’t really expected it to be that easy- he’d had his finger in the guy’s mouth a second ago and it didn’t wake him.
“Steve,” he says, quietly. “I’m uh… I’m really sorry about this.”
He wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrist more securely, and begins. “Steve, this is Eddie. I’m… I’m going to be your Guide, I’m going to help you out of your senses.” He keeps the words steady, measured, and pushes them forward. “Right now you’re focused on your sense of taste. You’re tasting blood, your own blood, and I’m guessing you got lost in it because of a nightmare. That’s going to happen again, but I’m going to be here for it, okay? From now on, I’m going to be here. But what I need from you now is to hear me.”
Steve’s wrist trembles in his at the words, hands shaking, and Eddie feels… something. It feels cheesy to call it a spiritual connection, the way his mother had, but maybe… primal. Animalistic, perhaps, but in a basic not a base way. Simple.
“Good,” he says, the corner of his lips curling when Steve’s eyes close at the single word. Alright, then. In for a penny, in for a pound, he supposes. “You’re doing very well, Steve. I need you to keep being good, keep trying to get to me. Focus on my voice. Follow my words. Hear the pitch, the timbre, the cadence. Feel the vibration of it in the air. I’m calling to you, Steve. I’m calling you.”
Steve’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and Eddie feels a little thrill. It’s working. This is the terrifying part. A first fugue state like this is the most dangerous, shouldn’t even be attempted by a new Guide alone. Someone,anyone, should have been preparing Steve for this, he should have had a Guide picked out ages ago. They should have had an experienced Guide ready to help both him and his chosen Guide through it.
Not that it matters; this is what they have. Steve doesn’t know and Eddie isn’t prepared, butSteve can hear him now, he’s pretty sure, which means he stands a chance at getting him out of it. Unfortunately, this is the point that runs the risk of just shifting which sense he’s lost in, if he can only get Steve to hear him. A Sentinel lost in a new Guide’s voice is so, so much harder to pull out of it.
Split their focus, his mother had told him. He barely remembers. He hopes it’s enough.
Eddie loosens his grasp on Steve’s wrist, and slides his hand up Steve’s arm, applying pressure evenly until he reaches the shoulder.
“You’re doing so good, but I need you to split your senses again, Steve,” he says as he does it, giving Steve’s shoulder a hard squeeze. “I need you to feel my hands. I need you to listen to my voice, and feel my fingers, and my palm. Feel the pressure.”
He drags his hand down Steve’s chest, over the scars on his belly. Swipes his thumb gently over the edges of them, sure that the new skin is just as weirdly sensitive-not-sensitive as his own, produces the same weird gut-twinge as sticking a finger into his belly button too deep.
“Feel my thumb. Hear my words. Feel my skin, the fingerprint lines.”
He presses his fingertips just above Steve’s hip bone where there’s still skin, lightly at first, and then deeper. Steve makes a small, pained noise, his face scrunching up, and Eddie feels relief flood through him. He’s feeling it.
“Good, Steve, that’s good, you’re listening, you’re following. Come on, now,” he coaxes, adding his other hand to Steve’s arm as he moves the first past Steve’s hip, over his boxers and down his leg. “Hear me, feel me. Relax your senses, let go of the taste of blood, that’s not for you right now. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” He winces, eyes closing. Stupid. “Steve.”
Steve licks at his lips, clearing the blood, eyes opening even though they are still far away, glassy and unfocused. He can feel Steve… reaching for him, trying to anchor himself in all the senses that contain him. Eddie breathes out and in. Almost over.
“That’s right, there you go, good boy.”
Steve’s eyes tick in his direction when he says it, and Eddie leverages himself up a little so he is leaning his hands on Steve, pressing heavy upon him, as well as being in his line of sight. His hair drops down, framing his face a little dramatically, but Steve’s eyes tick again to meet his.
“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty,” he greets. “You see me? You hear my voice still, feel my hands? You’re coming out of a sensory fugue. I need you to focus on me, on coming back out of your own head, out of your sense of taste.”
Steve blinks, and his brow furrows a little in confusion, and Eddie’s breath rushes out of him at the recognition.
“Eddie.” It sounds like relief.
“Yeah, buddy,” Eddie says, so gently, as he leans back, taking pressure off his hands on Steve. “How’re you feeling?”
“Bad,” Steve says, closing his eyes.
“Nuh-uh, keep them open,” Eddie says firmly, reaching up to tap at Steve’s cheek with flat fingers. “You need to use all your senses for a few minutes, until you’re actually evened out again.”
“What?” Steve asks, but he does open his eyes, turns his cheek into Eddie’s palm more fully, pressing.
Eddie blows out a breath and withdraws his hand to rub at his own face. This cannot be happening to them. Of course it would happen to them. “I have some uh… bad news?” he offers weakly. “Do you know what a Sentinel is?”
“No?” Steve says, looking at Eddie’s hand like he might perish if it keeps on Eddie instead if Steve. Eddie puts it back on him, resting over Steve’s hand instead of his cheek.
“They’re… Well, you know how people think humans survived all the dangers of prehistoria because of, like, thumbs?” Eddie asks carefully, and Steve nods but looks confused still. “Not to discount thumbs, but a lot of humans survived because some of them were born with way, way, way better senses. They could see or hear or smell or feel stuff that no one else could, and it let them sense when danger approached. They guarded settlements, and allowed them to prepare for bad things. I guess you uh… you must be from one of those bloodlines, and… your… interdimensional adventures may have triggered you to come into your senses.”
“Come to my senses?” Steve says, confused.
“Nope, no, that’s different,” Eddie says with a smile he only partially manages to hide. The confusion, the pliancy, will wear off in a little bit. “Not sure that’s ever going to happen. For any of us. No, you came into your senses. Or one sense, anyway. I’m guessing your major sense is taste. You got lost in it.”
“Blood,” Steve says faintly. “All I could think about was the blood, the taste of it in my mouth.”
Eddie nods. “Makes sense. Bit your tongue during a nightmare and it was too much.”
“I don’t- I don’t understand. What do you mean got lost?”
Eddie runs a hand through his hair and scratches at the back of his neck. “It’s like… well, you’ve had panic attacks before right?” When Steve nods, Eddie gestures. “It’s like one of your senses having a panic attack. Except you can’t get out of it by yourself. It doesn’t go away on its own. You need a Guide.”
Steve looks up at him and then struggles up into a sitting position. He absently touches his wrist where Eddie’s touch still lingers, and glances around the room. “… You? You’re the Guide? My Guide?”
“Unfortunately,” Eddie says, trying to sound sympathetic. He is pretty sure that Steve Harrington doesn’t want to be intimately linked with Eddie “the freak” Munson, even if they have been tentative friends for while now. “But, you’re still new, like you’re still… there’s time to switch. You should have had your Guide picked out years ago. I have a number at home, we can call. There are other guides out there, y’know, you can get someone else.”
“Someone else?” Steve echoes, brow knitting. “You… don’t want to?”
Eddie swallows. God, he wants to. It’s just- “You deserve to get to pick,” he says softly, looking away. “I’ve never done it, I don’t really know what I’m doing, and it’s kind of uh… a full time gig. Live in, you know? And that’s… that’s hard even when you like the other person.”
Steve’s brow knits further. “You don’t like me?”
“No, I do,” Eddie says. He’s messing this up. He sighs. “It’s just, you…”
“You think I don’t like you?” he asks, cottoning on.
“I think you don’t know me like you should, to pick me,” Eddie says, heart twisting up for Steve. This is going to suck so much for him. Eddie really is going to throttle his parents for not teaching him any of this if they knew. He hopes they didn’t. “I’m- I’m loud and weird and-”
“I’m best friends with Robin and Dustin,” Steve interrupts. “You think I don’t like loud and weird?”
Eddie’s belly does a little flip, shaking up all the butterflies and sending them into a riot. “Do you?”
“I do,” Steve says. “And if… if you… I don’t really want to go find some complete stranger to live with, if it can be you instead. If you’re okay with it, I’m good with it. I’m glad it’s you, in fact.”
“Oh,” Eddie says.
Maybe he’s the one that’s slipped into a fugue state now, because this cannot be happening. He never thought he’d actually be dragged into being a Guide in the first place, had avoided it as best as he could. Certainly he cannot lucky enough to be found by a Sentinel he actually, desperately, wants.
He can be normal about this.
“So…?” Steve prompts gently, because Eddie never answered.
Failed step one, he thinks, so he smiles and tries to be normal. “Uhm, yeah, I mean, yeah, man.” He shrugs a little, smile turning genuine when Steve relaxes. “I can be your Guide. I’d like to, in fact,” he echoes Steve.
“Good,” Steve says, leaning back against the headboard and letting his head thunk back against it.
He looks fucking exhausted, Eddie thinks, wondering how long he was in that state. Getting lost used to kill Sentinels, if they didn’t find Guides quickly enough. Eddie’s never been so grateful for Robin being stubborn, making him drive her over, insisting on checking. Calling in the cavalry immediately.
Robin seems to hear she’s being thought about, because her voice filters in from the other side of the door when they’ve been quiet too long. “Did it work??”
Eddie grins as Steve laughs, and something within Eddie relaxes. They’re gonna be okay. They’ll be okay as long as they can still laugh.
“It worked,” Steve calls. “I’ll be out in a minute, just let me get dressed.”
Cheeks pinking again, Eddie hops off the side of the bed and stands, finally breaking contact fully. “I’ll just- I’ll leave you to that then.”
“Hey,” Steve says, shifting like he’s going to try to grab for Eddie even though he doesn’t. “Um… thanks, man. You really did save my ass this time.”
Eddie searches his face for some kind of joke, but there’s nothing but that strange, quiet earnestness he’s come to associate with Steve. He smiles, nods once, and heads into the hall to report to the others that Steve’s going to be just fine.
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thebest-medicine · 6 months
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Day 30: Caught
Tickletober 2023 - RELIC by Maz Maddox - (takes place post King & Queen) - lee!Baja
[see my other tickletober 2023 fics]
[read on AO3]
A/N: Shout out to this series for being fucking adorable. [see my other fic for it]
Words: 1.1k
“Fuck off, Dalton!” 
“Come onnnnnn~”
“Try anything—” Baja glares his brother down, that apex predator authority in his eye. “—and I will use you as a toothpick.” 
“You’re just mad you’re ticklish.” 
“Shut the fuck up, would you?” Baja growled.
“Oooooohhhhh.” Dalton grinned, his face suddenly full of knowing.
Baja was familiar with that look. “No.”
“He doesn’t know?!” 
“No. And you are not going to—”
Dalton’s eyes were sparkling. They flicked to the door behind his brother. 
Baja clocked it right away. “Don’t you FUCKING dare—DALTON!” 
Footfalls thundered through the ranch as Dalton tore outside as fast as he could. Simon, cup of coffee in hand, paused just in time to miss being ran over by a pink blur and—just a few steps behind, a darker blur radiating annoyance. They flew past him, tearing through the doorway. A couch and coffee table made a meager defense from Baja, separating him and Dalton so both could catch their breath. They both twitched this way and that, testing the other to see if the other would bolt. 
“Jeez, you guys are gonna tear this place apart..” Blaze winced, eyeing them and slowly backing up into the hallway he’d emerged from. He backed straight into Royal, who smiled down at him. 
“Something wrong with breakfast in the living room?” He asked thoughtfully. 
“No, it’s—”
“Jackson doesn’t know that Baja’s ticklish!!!!!!!!!” Dalton bellowed. “He’s gonna kill me but I have to tell him!” 
“Shut your fucking mouth!” Baja hissed, growing impatient and stepping over the coffee table to launch himself over the couch at his brother. 
“Oh shit.” Royal grinned. 
Before Blaze knew it, he was holding Royal’s plate, and his boyfriend, who had a long history as Dalton’s partner in crime, was tearing past him into the living room. 
“No.” Baja’s face flashed with worry. “Not you too.”
“That’s too precious! Come onnnnnnn. We have to tell him.” Royal made a grab for Baja who kicked him away and started in the direction of Dalton. 
“Or show him.” Dalton smirked. 
“I love the way you think.” Royal beamed.
“I hate both of you, and I’m going to kill you if you—”
As if on cue, Jackson walked into the living area, taking in the arguing shifters. “Uh, hey—”
Baja’s eyes wide, he tore off past Jackson and right out the door, leaving him confused —and almost run over by his two pursuers. 
“What? Um.” Jackson chuckled, confused.
“Come on!” Royal called back at him as he raced after Baja.
Dalton added. “Got something to show ya!” 
“No they don’t!” Baja yelled back. Was that…laughter edging into Baja’s voice? 
Jackson blinked, thoroughly convinced, and gave curious chase to the rest of them. His long stride helped him catch up with ease, just as Dalton caught up to Baja and jumped onto his back. Baja let out a resounding growl, scrambling to get him off. 
Seconds later, Royal was on him too, and he knew he was screwed.
“No, you fuckers! I’ll- I’ll kill you!” Baja argued as they wrestled him down against the ground and got ahold of his arms. Royal sat over his waist while Dalton struggled with his arms. 
“Aww, it’s been way too long since we’ve done this!” Dalton smirked, wiggling his fingers. 
Jackson caught up to them a few seconds later, watching with an amused curiosity. “Just what are y’all—” He paused when he saw Baja biting back a grin and tilted his head. He watched as Dalton sat on both of Baja’s arms and then started… poking and lightly grazing his fingers over the now uncovered armpits. 
The last of Baja’s resolve crumpled along with his expression. Jackson could only watch with a growing smile. 
Royal’s laugh rumbled in like thunder, reverberating through him as Baja’s legs kicked in protest behind him. He started to pinch lightly up and down Baja’s sides. 
Baja growled, fighting the grin that slowly grew on his face. When he wasn’t making some noise of annoyed protest, he was holding his breath to keep in his laughter. 
Jackson squatted down beside the brothers. “You’re ticklish?” He asked, amused. 
Baja slammed his head back against the ground and cut off the laugh that almost escaped as a whine. “No.” He gritted his teeth. 
Royal and Dalton shared a laugh. “I dunno… Seem pret-ty ticklish to me, Baja.” Dalton teased, poking a finger into his rib cage. Baja jolted under each touch. 
“Well if you’re going to be stubborn…” Royal sighed with amusement. He reached behind him with one hand — Baja’s eyes widened as he recognized what was about to happen — and then started to squeeze at his upper thigh. 
Baja’s shout dissolved into the most sweet, bubbling laughter. 
“There we go!” Dalton smiled down at him. “Doesn’t that feel better?” 
Baja shut his eyes, his cheeks growing a bit darker, and failed to keep in any of the laughter he had been trying to fight. It was impossible with the floodgates open. Royal was fighting dirty, going after one of his worst spots. 
Jackson laughed along with them and reached out to pinch at Baja’s rib cage, resulting in an adorable flinch. 
With laughter freely pouring from Baja’s lips, Royal turned his attention back where he could see, poking and scribbling and tickling at the shaking middle in front of him. He and Dalton tickled with a familiarity, it seemed, of all the spots that made Baja jump and snort and twitch and yell. They even seemed to find a few that, if pushed a little further, might even make him beg.
“Easy, don’t kill him now..” Jackson reminded them. He reached out to brush a few stray hairs out of Baja’s face as the boys slowed their tickly attack. “I have to say, though, this is some of the best news I’ve heard all summer —maybe in my life.” 
Baja groaned, catching his breath as his brothers gave him a pat on the cheek and got up off of him. 
“You’re both… fucking dead… I hope you know.” Baja scolded when he had the ability to look at them without grinning like an idiot. Royal and Dalton held up their hands, backing up toward the house before turning and running. “And you.” He pointed at Jackson. 
“What?” Jackson scoffed, laughing. 
Baja had a familiar annoyed anger in his eyes. He let out a frustrated growl. “You… weren’t supposed to see that.” He sighed, sitting up and running a hand over his face. “Don’t even fucking think about—”
Jackson cut him off with a laugh. “Oh, Darlin’, you know I’m never lettin’ this go.”
Baja rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Until I find out where you’re ticklish.” 
Jackson smiled, reaching out a hand to help him up. “Looking forward to seeing you try.” 
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zappedbyzabka · 8 months
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Afternoon postcard
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queen-of-reptiles · 8 months
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𝚆𝙸𝙿𝚂
description: all the fics and ficlets I am currently working on will be posted at random - sorry! but if there are any certain ones you would like to see first let me know x
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𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜
bethany england // 09
lucky - ficlet and social media
description - when the tottenham girls go for a night out and are let in a new bar early, bethany overhears a beautiful voice and quickly becomes obsessed
maz pacheco // 33
mark, set, go! - ficlet and social media
description - maz's 'friend' is the no.1 400m runner in the world, she needs to prove that at the world champs. if she does, maz will hard launch
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𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘𝚜
katie mccabe // 15
swan II - ficlet and social media
description: katie and her dancer girlfriend y/n have taken the world by storm with their launch - but how did they meet?
katie mccabe // 15
cigarettes and stolen breaths II - ficlet
description: katie and y/n learn to navigate their relationship and try to figure out if there is love, or only lust between them
alessia russo // 23
champion II - ficlet and social media
description: during a relaxed competition, y/n pushes on, despite a worrying ache in her thigh, she learns to regret it after and alessia is happy to play nurse
sam kerr // 20
nonsense II - ficlet and social media
description: y/n and sam learn what it is to be in a relationship - no matter how much it scares her.
leah williamson // 06
hooked II - social media and ficlet
description: in which leah and her girlfriend walk the red carpet - stunning everyone at the grammys which in turn stun y/n
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𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 - 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗
mapi leon // 04
sisters (part of the 'hidden' universe - 3 individual parts 6 parts in total)
parts: one, two, three
description: being the lucy bronze's younger sister was great, having you best friend ona play at barcelona is great. one problem, both you and ona are hiding relationships, you with a team member and her with the captain's sister.
ona battle // 22
secrets (part of the 'hidden' universe - 3 individual parts 6 parts in total)
parts: one, two, three
description: ona was finally where she had dreamed, she was back at barcelona with her best friend and loving every moment. only problem? she's dating her captain's younger sister, you.
lucy bronze // 15
my girl - 2 parts
parts: one, two
description: y/n is out of club play with an injury, potentially a big one, luckily england felt they could breathe again once they knew their captain hadn't suffered the three letters - but barcelona did not feel so lucky with an el classico around the corner
georgia stanway // 31
best friends - 3 parts
parts: one, two, three
description: in which leah williamson’s younger sister and georgia stanway are best friends ... right?
lauren james // 10
oh fuck (part of the 'blue' series - 4 parts)
parts: one, two, three, four
description: lauren is fine, she is completely fine. she is definitely not dating sam kerr's younger sister. and sam kerr definitely hasn't just walked into y/n's flat with her spare key. lauren is completely fine
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russolaw · 29 days
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breninarthur · 1 year
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Ok I have to know more about Maz Hawke's romantic misadventures obviously! <3
Thank you for asking!! 🥰
I've posted before about my high hopes for this one, and also this lil excerpt here :3
This is the summary I have so far:
"In which Maz Hawke is a disaster bisexual in the saddest, most pathetic, wet blanket-est way."
It's inspired by my playthrough and how I managed to completely miss every single romance flag 😂 I had to go back a couple hours to the closest one, which was Fenris!
Here's another excerpt 👀
Hawke was panicking.
This was a big decision, and one she felt she had no right in weighing in on as someone who was neither particularly religious, nor supported the idea of a monarchy.
"Well, uh…" she started, casting a wide net in the still pond of her mind and coming up with precisely nothing. He should just do what he wanted to. Was that sound advice? Did he have some sort of responsibility? But who cared, really?
"No one can tell you what to do," she stammered, immediately cursing herself for being too blunt. "I mean like, you can do who you want. What you want! You can do what you want! Well, you can do who you want too, but you know, that's not what I… meant… to say."
Maker send her a divine bolt of lightning to crash straight through the chantry and strike her down, she was a sinner and an idiot.
Sebastian's gaze was an arrow rooting her to the spot. She only flushed five shades deeper under his scrutiny.
"Hawke, you – don't think I'm not tempted."
Why did those words not set her alight with joy, she wondered.
"But I can't."
Ah yes, that was why.
"I knelt and swore before the Maker that I would take no bride before Andraste."
He looked… sad. Her breath quickened. They were much too far away from each other, and Hawke wanted nothing more than to grab him in an embrace, or run away and never look back. She knew she hadn't imagined it. There was something there. 
Sebastian wasn't just incredibly attractive, he was kind. He was fearless and sincere, and he made her feel as though she mattered. His fingers always lingered too long when he took the lockpicking kit she carried for him. He laughed the loudest at her terrible jokes. On the rare occasion he came to the Hanged Man; they drank together, alcohol cloying on their breath, pressed as close as their awarenesses would allow.
But it wasn't enough.
So that's a little bit about Maz Hawke's misadventures! There's some things I wanna keep ~secret~ about this fic, and those bits feel quite ambitious to me. I really hope I can pull it off, because I just have such a vision for it 😂
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cosmicbeancat · 9 months
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HEY ODDBALLS COMMUNITY!
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This but Declan is Four (aka the number possessing the sun in this image) and James, Stuart, Mr. Mcfly, Bryon Sellers and Maz standing on him
it would be hilarious
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heiligeundhunde · 2 years
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Klaas und Fix 🤍
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