#boarder strikes

[airboarders]

This is me if you even care

[darcylightninglewis]

Supporting a population of people in mourning who suffered a terror attack (of which the death & kidnapped toll is still growing) and largely don’t support the actions of the current regime isn’t the same as supporting the government’s actions.

I know everyone wants one side to be bad but it’s not cut and dry. The Palestinians largely don’t support Hamas (their governing body) and I have to believe, for my own sanity and faith in humanity that you know the difference between the two.

[totallynotcensorship]

well most of the tags aren't trending anymore, but jerusalem and yemen still drifts in and out of trending, better than nothing but still not the best

never shut up

we had a good couple of days... in term of trending i mean the genocide is getting worse day by day

al shifa hospital is 100% out of water because the IDF bombed the water pipes, meanwhile the "billions of humanitarian" aid" that are sent can't reach anyone either because the boarders are striked by israel, or because the few that pass through get bombed by israel

meanwhile meanwhile the IDF posts bullshit "evidence" for "the hospitals are hamas bases". evidence so badly faked it genounly had me laughing out loud. here is a longer post that covers it

EDIT THEY ARE FRONT PAGE NOW LET'S GOOOOO

don't stop talking about injustice

[valenli]

Baldwin IV x Reader

Imagine you meet the king as a foreign princess, and you two are to be wed? But to your surprise. The king is all for it

(warnings: mention of skin disease, stitches, detailed explanations for violent scenes)

(this fic is in no way tied to the real figure, this is only for the movie interpretation. As I do not write for real figures (dead or alive))

For the longest time, I never thought I'd find love a man who was not only a man of God, but would too love me. My mother, after all, was nothing more than a concubine. So I didn't quite have a good example from her nor father who couldn't set his eyes on one. But that all changed when Jerusalem called to many kingdoms, many were there to feel the presence of God, and so was I. I were to travel on my own but it seemed as though father had other plans. Every night that got closer to Jerusalem, whether by ship or horse, I could hear him speak with the advisers and other higher ups of a wedding, mine. I did not wish to get upset just yet, for I prayed heavily that the man I meet is someone with a wise, excellent, and beautiful heart, for faces did not matter once one was in heaven. But on the 7th night, something had happened. While we rested round a campfire in order to rest from the morning heat waves, we heard horses of at least 9 or so men rushing are way, father said these may be pilgrims, and that we need not to worry. But as they came closer it seemed they were none other than knights, dressed in pure white and red cross at the center of the chest. Father got up and waved at them, but a horse man swang his sword straight into his hand, cutting a chunk of skin out. I couldn't hold but the scream I let out as the blood hit my dress, I curled up against my horse when I felt a second horseman strike against my leg, only a cut but it no less hurt. They were ready to strike a final blow but I could see a blue clothed horseman arrive, he stood before us and looked at the white clothed horseman.

-------------

"do these look like locals, Guy? Have you any clue the harm you have caused against your king?" said the blue clothed horseman

"I have not a clue of what your talking about Tiberias. These people are in the boarders of our enemies, are they not are enemies?" the white clothed horseman who's name seemed to be Guy seemed all smug, or at least arrogant at best, in his answer. He seemed to not care that I had been cut, nor my father who held to his injury.

"these people, Guy, are the bride to be and her father. Had you have asked, they'd already been at the castle discussing matters beyond your small minded arrogance!" the man in blue, Tiberias, seemed familiar to father, as father tried to reach out to him. Soon the white clothed men who hurt us got us up and carried our things, by dawn we were at the castle. What a shame it was nighttime, for the city, and castle, were beautiful. Some physicians stitched my father's injuries and mine, and I were to meet his highness, my groom to be. In the bright morning I headed to his quarters, I felt at ease once opening the door, For it was just him, and me.

---------

Baldwin moved the headwrap away from his face, seeing that my groom to be was masked. I could only wonder why, had he committed a crime? Was he afraid of being spied on? It was common for the women to hide their face before marriage, but I'd never seen a man do it.

"ah, Y/N. You have arrived, I have hoped in one piece, but you were harmed. For which the man who laid hands upon you will be harmed, no doubt in that" he said as he rose up from his chair and gestured for me to follow, we reached the balcony and I looked over at him, then at the city.

"your highness.. It's unnecessary for you to punish him" I said as I turned my head back to the man I stood with, "he did not purposely harm me". I felt the king shake his head and hold my hand, "no, my dear Y/N. But he would have harmed another's life, innocent or not. As a knight, it is his only duty, as demanded by God, to never lay a finger on a innocent". Listening to him speak, it moved something in my heart I had not felt for anyone I had ever known, Yes, I was his soon to be bride, but I couldn't help but feel something. "Y/N. Just as it is the duty of a king to protect his people, it is my duty as your husband to protect you. I promise, even with my condition" he said, I could see his eyes looking away as though he felt ashamed, but of what?

"what condition your highness?" I held his hand more firmly, to which he did not respond, not even a finger moved on his hand

"i am a lepper king, my dear, that is the matter. My body is weak, yes, but I won't let it stop me" he looked back at me. He noticed I held his hand firmly when he looked down at mine, I saw his eyes smile at the sight

"your highness, you love me so even though we have no knowledge of one another, why?"

"for you see Y/N, a marriage is bond between man and woman, a bond of flesh to flesh, it is God's blessing to the people, and if God has blessed me with such a bride as you, Y/N, then who am I to deny it?" he spoke with such a heartfelt tone, I knew in that moment that this was the man of my prayers. I couldn't help but feel tears run down my face. I knew that his condition could bring his end, but I wanted to love him to the day we depart from the earth. I placed my hand on his mask and wanted to lay a kiss on his lips, but he gently stopped me.

"you need to know the lips you lay your kiss upon, as you are my wife, I want you to be sure" He said as he pulled down the mask. A cut through his lips and right cheek was the first thing I saw, his missing nose, and his small blonde hairs coming down from the headwrap. He held my hand as though he asked of what I thought. "my Baldwin.. Your a beautiful man, why you are afraid I can understand, but I love you not for your looks, but the heart" i said as I leaned to him, I felt his lips touch mine. I closed my eyes and placed my hands upon his cheeks, i knew in that moment that all my days of waiting, my prayers, my journeys, were worth having him. We soon left one another's lips

"I love you till the day we part, Baldwin"

"I love you, for everyday I live in your name, Y/N"

[runnning-outof-time]

Congrats on 2k, Reb @peakyswritings !! I’m so thankful for the ideas you shared with me. I hope I did this one justice and that it’s spooky enough for your celebration!! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

The Devil’s Voice

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: mentions of religion, re-working of a season 3 plotline, indirect mention of murder

Word Count: 739

Summary: Tommy meets a woman at a crossroads who agrees to help him execute his business.

“Polly said you’d come.”

Tommy heard the woman before he saw her properly. Only her outline was visible as he approached her on the desolate road, the wind making the fog roll over the fields that boardered it on both sides.

“Polly has a tendency to talk,” he responded as he stopped in front of her. He couldn’t help but give her a once over. Her appearance was the exact opposite what he was expecting when Polly spoke about her.

“But yet you’re in front of me,” she quipped, running her eyes up and down his body as she clasped her hands behind her back.

“She said you’d be able to help me,” he got right into business.

“Depends on what you’re looking for help with.” The response was vague, but her quirked eyebrow told him that she was interested in hearing his proposition.

“His name is Father Hughes…”

“Ahh, a priest,” she interjected, nodding slowly at the information.

“Only in the title,” he remarked, “he’s done things that rival the worst…uses the cloth he wears to cover it up.”

“And he’s who you’re up against?” she asked.

Tommy nodded. “He works as a member Section D. Has me out doing his bidding for him while he’s playing both sides and reporting information back to the opposition. I’ve been tasked to kill him. My latest attempt didn’t come out as expected. So…”

“That’s where I come in?” she took the words from him mouth, watching with raised eyebrows to see how he’d respond. He only nodded. She nodded back and took a moment to think over the information she was just given; weighing it all out in her mind. “Striking down a man of god won’t be the easiest thing I’ve done, but I’ll certainly take pleasure in doing it,” she finally gave her answer.

“So you’re agreeing?” Tommy checked to make sure.

“He’ll be dead by sunrise,” she answered, a sinister grin forming on her face as she said the morbid sentence.

“Good,” he nodded once, making to turn and head back to his car.

“But I should tell you, Mr. Shelby,” her voice made him stop in his tracks and he slowly turned back to face her again. She waited until she had his full attention to continue: “if I do this for you, you’re mine forever.” Her words came out in a slow manner, as if she was making sure he heard every word.

Usually a statement such as this would make a look of surprise, or even fear, flash across the face of the person it was being said to. (Y/N) had seen it time and time again from the people who’d made deals with her in the past. If she was honest, it was her favorite part of these meetings. But Tommy Shelby looked completely different when she uttered these words. His lips were slightly parted and he nodded his head ever-so slightly before what seemed to be a look of intrigue flashed across his face. She wondered if she would have even caught it if she wasn’t watching him so closely.

He simply looked her over once more before finally saying: “just make sure it’s done.” With that he turned and began walking back to his vehicle.

(Y/N) grinned as she watched him walk away, biting on her bottom lip as she restrained herself from going and propositioning him right there. He is going to be a fun one, she thought to herself, her grin growing.

“So you’ve done it?” Polly questioned her nephew as she entered his office the following afternoon.

“I have,” Tommy answered without looking up from his papers. “Father Hughes has been killed, all is well.”

“Except it’s not,” she was quick to respond, a weariness present in her words.

Hearing them finally made Tommy look up. “What do you mean, Pol?” he asked her.

“You didn’t listen to me fully,” she started, a grave seriousness present in her voice. Tommy only tipped his head slightly to show he was listening, “I told you to hold caution when meet with her; that she’d take something in return. The devil’s voice is sweet to hear, but that sweetness will fade fast. She’s going to ruin your life, Thomas.”

Tommy only nodded after hearing his aunt’s foreboding words. If the devil’s voice was sweet to hear, at least he’d have something ‘sweet’ in his life from now on.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @peakybfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Thalia x Fem Reader who is a titans daughter, maybe even Kronos but she's pining hard for Thalia, without realizing she's into Thalia - Obviously reader is so straight, girls are just prettier and better.

Beauty of a Storm

|| Thalia Grace x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader is left out by campers, reader discovering sexuality

|| Summary; reader's the daughter of Kronos whose relatively new to Camp. When the Hunters of Artemis come to a visit, reader develops a crush on Thalia Grace. But... reader's still thinks she's straight and doesn't quite realize it's a crush.

Requests open!

Started; september 25th

Finished; september 26th

~~~

A sigh left your lips as you sat on the roof of the Hermes Cabin. You knew who your father was, it was Kronos. Much to everyone's surprise when you were claimed. But that didn't change that there wasn't a cabin for you and you were sure they would never build one. So you were stuck in the Hermes Cabin.

You watched from the edge as campers trained in the fields, laughed around the hearth and just all around seemed to have a good time. Which sucked for you, cause you were having as far from a good time as you could.

Nobody here liked you. Nobody even tried to get to know you. You'd been here for two weeks and already lost whatever friends you could have had day three due to your father.

Camp life couldn't be any duller. Honestly part of you didn't blame the half bloods that had turned. You had heard the stories from other campers about the battle that took place. And yeah. Part of you was siding with them.

Some commotion caught your attention as a group of girls came into camp at a light jog. You tilted your head in confusion, some type of boarder patrol? Did something happen?

Your confusion spiked when those group of girls settled themselves into the Artemis Cabin. Artemis didn't have children... as far as you knew. So who the hell were they?

With spiked curiosity, you scrambled to the back end of the roof and jumped to the tree you had used to get up there. Climbing back down and running to the Artemis Cabin.

You knocked when you got there, obviously. You didn't want to just run in on them. Especially when they were all armed with bows and other various weapons.

A teenager who looked no older than you opened the door, her striking blue eyes almost immediately caught your attention. As did her punk rock clothing style. You fought the urge to say 'woah', because that would be pretty lame.

"Can I help you?" The girl didn't look overly pleased to see you. Whoever you were.

You found yourself straightening your posture almost immediately, cheeks flushed as you rambled out a response," Hey! I'm uh- Y/N L/N. New to camp- who are you? Last I checked Artemis didn't have children... no offence."

The girl rolled her eyes, though she seemed amused by you and decided to humour you. Just a little, considering you're new and all," Thalia Grace, Daughter of Zeus and Lieutenant for the Hunters of Artemis."

Your eyes widened," you're a daughter of Zeus?" That explained the eyes and intense stare," am I supposed to bow-? How does this work?"

She laughed and shook her head," Gods no. Don't be stupid. So who's your Godly parent?"

You hesitated, not really wanting to say it but something in you felt like you shouldn't lie to this girl," ...Kronos."

Everyone in the cabin stopped and stared at you. The silence was deafening.

"So you're the one Annabeth was talking about," Thalia murmured. Giving you a once over that made you stiffen and smile awkwardly," pretty brave of you to admit that. You do know who Kronos is, don't you? What he's done?"

You nodded slowly," people haven't stopped telling me.." From the moment you were claimed, it seemed everyone had something negative to say about your father. There was a point where Mr D had even debated kicking you out of camp, but Chiron suggested you stayed. Learned the ropes. He felt sympathy for you, with Kronos being his father too.

"Yeah, no doubt. He's traumatized at least half of them in someway." Thalia said, arms folding across her chest.

"You mean the battle?" You asked, she nodded. Her expression grim.

"Just be glad you missed it."

And that was the last of your conversation with her, throughout the day you continued what you always did. Keeping your distance from everyone, visiting Chiron at the big house, training and whatever else.

It was just before dinner when you decided to pop by the big house for the second time that day, having a few questions for your half brother.

"Chiron?" You called out as you walked in, he had told you before you could come by whenever.

"In here," He called back from the living room.

You walked in and found him talking with Thalia, who had stopped whatever conversation she was having and was getting ready to leave.

"Wait just a minute, Miss Grace." Chiron said, she looked a little annoyed but waited," Have you met Y/N?"

"Briefly." Thalia murmured.

"So it seems," He sighed and glanced at you, before looking at the girl again. "Would you be able to help her with some training?" He left out the part about how no one else was willing to teach you, so you'd been training on your own.

You felt embarrassed that he was asking her to do this and tried to look anywhere but Thalia.

"Fine." Thalia stood and walked past you," Come on."

"But-" You started but she looked back at you with a sharp gaze, which immediately got you to listen and follow after. A blush coating your cheeks.

"We will discuss whatever you need to later tonight, Y/N." Chiron assured you before you were out the door, giving him a small nod.

You followed Thalia, struggling to keep up with her; you couldn't help but admire the girl. She was clearly strong, confident... you weren't at all surprised she was a lieutenant. She definitely gave the vibes of a leader, than again her father was Zeus. So it only made sense to you that she would be good at that sort of thing.

It's been a few days now since your training with Thalia and the two of you had had more moments since. Whether it would be you were in the same activities or just paired up for training. Neither of you really mind, though. Sure Thalia had had complaints about you at the start... but now that she knew you it wasn't so bad. The two of you were becoming friends.

You had started realizing you felt more. Or at least... you thought you felt more. You'd talked with Piper a bit on it, with her helping you to realize your feelings. She never specifically told you you were gay, because she wanted that to be your own discovery. But she left you little tidbits here and there.

It took a while, but by the time you had realized she had already left and was back on the road with the Hunters. So you never did get to tell her how you felt and it seemed to awkward to tell her over an iris message, which was something the two of you did often.

Maybe you would tell her the next time you saw her, whenever that was. And if you didn't chicken out.

[dmwrites]

It had been long enough now that the pattern was familiar. It started as a gnawing emptiness, looking for something that wasn’t there yet. It was apparent on every face, the need for a task, the greed and satisfaction that came with reward.

The rules were simple- Grian had explained them when they had all shown up in this new world. Get a task. Keep it a secret. Do the task. Succeed. Don’t die, even though you will. The feeling of incompleteness while waiting for a task hasn’t been in the explanation- or, at least, Martyn hoped it wasn’t just him who felt this way.

Martyn kept to himself a lot this season, and it was in a cave that he received his next secret task. Martyn often wondered how the book that held his task got to be in his pocket. The tasks were delivered timely every week, with no apparent source. Martyn suspected that whatever, whoever was giving them these tasks did not appreciate people dwelling on the source, as Martyn always got a headache when thinking about it.

Martyn felt a heaviness in his pocket- a new secret task delivered. He stepped back, finally striking down the zombie that had climbed quite a distance to get to him. Martyn went into a small alcove in the cave, well-lit already from his exploration. Just to be safe, he boarded up the gaping opening in front of him, so no mobs could possibly do a lick of damage to him. He’d already suffered so many hearts lost with his recklessness.

Martyn opened the small book, which glowed a slight purple, held it up to the torch light to read his task.

Find RenTheDog

Martyn’s breath stilled in his chest. It was two words, two very simple words, and he read them over and over again like they were a hymn, a passage he failed to really comprehend.

“He’s not-”

Martyn hit a button on his communicator, scanned through the names listed, every participant in this game. Ren was not among them. Martyn knew that. Martyn knew that. This was the second game in a row the dog had been absent from, which tore Martyn’s heart in ways only Ren could, but it was fine. Or, it had been, until now, until this task stared him in the face.

Martyn let out a choked laugh.

“It’s… this surely would be a hard task, first of all.” The hollowness in his voice kind of dulled the joke into nothingness. “He’s not here. Ren is not… here.” He tried to emphasize his point, put his finger to his name, but it ended up being more of a caress of the name on the page.

No one answered his open-air monologue, which he’d expected. So, with nothing to go off of, besides those two taunting words, Martyn dug his way to the surface.

He soon stood before the secret keeper, before that damned mark that he knew, by god he knew none of it was just mere coincidence.

“So I’m guessing you just want me to have to pick a harder task, is that it? Hoping I’ll fail big time and you can get me out of your hair faster?” Martyn snarled at the stone before him. “Well, baby, I’m a cockroach, so good luck with that.”

He pressed the button before him, with the sign under that read “reroll for a harder task”. There were whispers, some kind of poem that Martyn, in his anger, didn’t bother reading, and then a book appeared in mid-air, a deep red this time. Martyn caught it before it fell, ripped the cover open.

Find the Red King.

“Fuck you!” Martyn yelled, outrage and mourning and yearning pouring out of him all at once. “I can’t… why? Why on earth are you doing this to me? I can’t do this… I can’t-”

He could see people coming, whether to complete their task or to see what the yell had been about, and he ran. He didn’t know the land, having spent so much time underground, so it was a blind dash towards the tree line. His heart was thudding, his mind a mess.

There was, however much he tried to tamp it down, a blossom of hope. He slowed down eventually, when he hit a world boarder, thinking hard. Twice now, the secret keeper had told him to find Ren. They must know who Martyn was, who had held the axe. No one better to find him.

Martyn looked for RenTheDog. He built a tower of cobblestone to the sky, scanning the land far below. He ventured into the deepest caves, calling out Ren’s name and hearing it echo back to him with more and more desperation.

But the day was only so long, and, eventually, Grian’s message in chat confirmed what Martyn had already known.

<Time is up. Anyone who hasn’t completed their task yet has failed. Meet at the secret keeper.>

“So, did anyone fail their tasks this week?” Grian asked to the gathered group.

Martyn strode forward in the silence that followed, hit the button that said “fail”. He bit back a pained moan as a row of hearts was taken from him. He could hear sympathetic groans and gasps behind him, others trying to share in his pain. But they didn’t know, not really.

“What was the task?” Grian asked curiously.

“I’d rather not say.” Martyn said. He turned and walked past his friends, out towards the setting sun. It hurt. It all hurt.

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 51

First / Previous / Next

Eternity was a large ship, but it was still dwarfed by the Gren station. With a puff of thrusters, and a clang of hulls, the Dreadnought made contact.

The boarding party stood a few meters from the sally port. The shock troops mirror polished, black armored pressure suits stood in opposition to Fen's Empress armor. Hers was pure white with gold and blue accents, almost like porcelain.

"I must reiterate, Empress, you don't need to-" The commander started to speak.

"Regardless, I am coming. This was my home. I know this place better than any of your maps. Fen's body language was hidden by her armored pressure suit and solid white helmet, but the commander could hear the warning in her tone. She shifted her battle rifle slightly.

"O-of course, Empress. Still, it is our responsibility to protect you. You will be safest aboard Eternity."

"Your responsibilities are to capture Tam'itarr alive and ensure the survival of your team. Leave me to me."

The commander saluted, and said nothing.

Fen turned towards the sally port. All of her Dreadnoughts had them in a few strategic locations. Ships had missiles, slug throwers, and exawatt laser batteries, but sometimes they had to board ships and capture them. It looked like a regular airlock, except the outer door was replaced by high speed cutters. The ship would make physical contact with the object to be boarded, and the cutters would force an opening, allowing boarders to attack in person.

After a few minutes of cutting, the light over the port started flashing yellow. "Get ready," the commander shouted. "Remember, keep collateral damage to a minimum, do not go wild. We're here to capture someone, not take over the station. Guard the Empress."

The light turned green, there was a loud buzz of an alarm, and the sally port snapped open. Everyone's rifles snapped up and they entered the station.

The captain had chosen their location well. They were attached midway down the station, in a random corridor. Fen had been slightly worried that they would open up right inside one of the common areas and would be under attack immediately, but she had nothing to worry about.

It was… odd. Fen wasn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. After exiting the hall, Fen was able to orient herself easily. Down this way, turn here, around this pillar, through this archway, past the warning light that has been blinking her entire life without ever being repaired.

She was home.

Only, it wasn't home. Not really. With no Ma-ren, this place was only a pile of memories and hurt. The sooner they captured Tam'itarr and left, the better. Fen shook her head slightly inside her helmet, making sure the helmet didn't move. She tried to shake herself of the memories.

Fen led the boarding party walked through the station, weapons at the ready but not actively pointing at anyone, but the few people they came across… didn't care. People barely looked up, let alone running away or attacking. The only people who bothered to look at them were children. As soon as they did, their parents shooed them back into their domiciles. The third time it happened, Fen felt a little silly and had everyone lower their weapons. They all straightened up and began to walk more normally.

"Empress… do you know what's going on?" The commander said, looking around. "This wasn't the reception I was expecting."

"No, commander, I don't know either. Many people on the station had joked that they had seen 'everything' and that nothing would surprise them, but I didn't think they would take it this far." Fen's faceless white helmet turned towards the people sitting in cafes who were pointedly not looking at them. She toggled her comm. "Weapons, please confirm you disabled their reactors."

"Empress, we have confirmed strikes on three of the five energy sources that we determined to be reactors. Additionally, we were not fired upon while boarding."

"It sure doesn't look like their reactors are down, Lieutenant. Lights are on, there are no alarms, everyone is enjoying their afternoon."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Empress? You're sure? Everything is up and running?"

Fen tisked. "Why would I lie to you, Lieutenant? It's almost as if you didn't strike any of the reactors at all."

"W-We will reconfirm our shots, Empress. We will contact you in moments."

The line disconnected and Fen stopped walking. "I don't like this."

"Yes, Empress. it feels like a trap."

"Weapons ready." Everyone snapped their rifles back to their shoulders and spread into a defensive pattern. Meanwhile, Fen strode up to a young Gren man sitting at a cafe, reading a pad. "You. What is going on?"

"Hmm?" He lifted his head and looked at Fen. His expression tried to remain the same, but she saw his mouthparts twitch slightly before he spoke. "Nothing is going on, it's a normal day."

"Oh for the love of-" Fen cleared her helmet and locked eyes with the Gren. "W̴͈̃h̸̐ͅá̶̞t̷͇̽ ̷̪͌ì̵̬s̶̪̀ ̵̢͛g̴̹̿o̶͓͒ï̷̪n̵͚͆g̶͕̍ ̴͌͜o̴̲͂n̶̨̛?̴͇̇"

"We were ordered to ignore you." He answered immediately, almost without thinking. Once he realized what he said, he reared back, frightened.

"Who ordered it?"

He stood up from his chair quickly, knocking it over. He was backing away from her gaze, trying to escape. "Tam'itarr ordered it! He runs the place now!" Still reversing the Gren tripped over a table set and turned around and took off down the hall, running. One of the soldiers readied his rifle.

"No, don't shoot him. There's no point. He told me what I needed to know anyway."

It felt like someone was pushing her over. That was the thing she remembered first. Fen had no idea what getting shot was like, but it really felt like someone took a sharp shove to her shoulder. Her suit squealed at her that she was taking fire, and to get to cover. Fire? She's being shot at? Her second thought was of Ma-ren. Was this how it felt for her?

Fen fell to the deck with a thud. The armor had absorbed the majority of the shot, but there was still bruising and pain. While on the ground, there was another shot to her helmet. This one was much louder, with a metallic thwack sound that came from behind her. They absolutely were shooting at her! The nerve! Fen rolled onto her back to try and get up, and she was shot again. The suit was getting quite cross with her, with the internal screens lighting up with GET TO COVER in red and AVOID GETTING SHOT. Hmph. That seemed a little sarcastic.

With a rush of noise, her perception of the world sped up. The commander was leaning down and clinked his helmet to hers, enabling the suit-to-suit. "Empress! Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm all right. The suit - even though it's sarcastic - is doing well. Have we determined the source of the attack?"

"No, it's from multiple locations. We need to get to cover!" He helped her up, and everyone encircled her. Crouching low, below them, they started moving as one towards the restaurant that Gren was eating at before the attack. Fen could hear the shots ricocheting off the strong Imperial armor, but if they brought out any heavier weapons, they'd start taking casualties.

"Empress! Empress!" It was the Lieutenant from weapons. "We were duped! The energy sources are gone, the reactors weren't there. It's a trap, you need to get off the station!"

"Yes Lieutenant, we were able to figure that out on our own." Fen's vision blurred slightly. That shot to her head had made her brain vibrate some. "Please fire upon the station. I would like for them to stop shooting me."

"Uh… Empress? With all due respect…"

"Yes Lieutenant, spit it out, I am under fire right now and don't really have time for protocol."

"Why don't you just Voice them and make them stop shooting at you?"

Oh for Ancestors sake. "Yes, thank you Lieutenant. That's an excellent idea."

Fen stood up straight from the huddle of her soldiers and toggled her external speaker.

Č̶̨̚ě̸̬a̵̓͜ṣ̷͊͝ẻ̵̪ ̷͇̼́͋F̴͎̒í̸̺̌r̵̡͇̈́̋e̶̡̤̋̿!̵̧̥̇!̸͔͝

The shots stopped immediately. There was a commotion coming from some hidden corners. Probably attackers trying to figure out what is happening.

S̴̺̒h̵̺̃ȏ̷͙w̴̘̄ ̸͎͌ỳ̵̰ö̷͙́ȗ̶̡r̷͚̂s̵̠̕e̸̬̿l̶̛͜v̵̻͋ȇ̴̩s̶͓͊ ̷̋ͅr̴͉͐i̷̦͒g̵̡̒h̶͚̅t̸̻͋ ̵̫͌n̷͙̐ò̵͎w̶̩̑.̶̠͋

About a dozen people walked into the hall from three locations, one behind, one parallel and one in front of them. It was a motley crew of mostly Gren with a few K'laxi and some Sefigans with them. All were using modified human rifles and submachine guns. Old, poorly maintained ones, modified for other sapient use.

"Where's Tam'itarr?" Fen said.

"He's holed up somewhere up towards the top. He has a group of those old K'laxi refugees with him." One of the Gren said. He was shorter than most of the other Gren, with a dark fur flecked with gray.

As Fen's eyes passed over the group, she came across a familiar face. A face that was burned into her memory. A K'laxi with half of an ear notched, with dark brown fur and a smug grin.

It was him. The one who shot Ma-ren.

"You!" She pointed, her finger shaking with rage. C̴̦͗ǒ̴̰m̷̻͐e̷̘̾ ̵̜̚h̷͔̀e̸̠͋ŕ̶̫ȇ̷͕.̶̨̀

The K'laxi stepped forward, walking robotically. Trying to fight the imperial order always made people look like they were fighting their own bodies. He stopped a meter away from Fen.

"You are with Tam'itarr's crew."

He nodded once.

Fen cleared her helmet so that he could see her face. His eyes went wide with recognition, but he scowled and said nothing.

"You know me." It wasn't a question.

"You were one of the people chasing after me and Ma-ren when we were trying to escape. To try and get to Spyglass?"

He didn't move.

A̶̢̡̨̠̙͎̭̰͊͒ͅÑ̷͔̠͓̩̲̫̫̲͖̒̍̀̒̃̀̚̚ͅS̵̢̟̦͓̘̫̯̉͋͠ͅẄ̸̢̡̧̻̣̝̣̘E̸̘͙̝͔̝̮͕̭̗͎͆̈́̎̂͠͝R̷̨̧̢̘͎̠̻̠͓̮̎̓̄̀̇̏̅͝͝͠ ̷̧̡̞̦̺̣͖̤͊̂̓͋̓M̵̨̭͓̮̺̥̜̥̺̤̐̿͛͊̈́̿̂͝Y̴̗̳̗͆ ̵̝͈̣̔̑̔͝Q̸̙͊̊U̷͓͈͎̎͒Ȩ̶̭͖̥̰̳̻̗̘̭͒̒S̴̹̓͑͗͋́͑͆̂Ṯ̴̻̖̀͒̾̄͌̐̋͝͠Ḭ̴̧͕̜̬̖̫̊̿̈́̈́̾̆̅O̷̢͇̗̳̜͎̒̍̾̅̾́͘Ņ̸̻͖̯͈̙̍̀̓̐͘͜͠ͅŞ̴̥̰͖̹̮̓͆͆̉̃͑̈́̈̕̕ she shouted.

Her Voice reverberated through the open area. It felt like the whole station went silent at her shout. His answer was practically a whisper, all his bravado gone.

"Yes."

"You shot Ma-ren?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I thought you would turn to go after her, and then I could shoot you too. But that damned other human you were with fended us off and you two escaped."

Fen stood straight, and nodded once. She reached onto the pad on the wrist of her suit and opened the helmet. With a hiss of pressure, the front of her helmet opened like a flower and folded down, becoming like a collar. Her head was in the open air of the station, at risk. The commander opened his mouth to tell her to put her helmet back on, but she turned to him, and her face made him close his mouth again.

She turned back to the K'laxi.

S̵̝̭͒͆t̵͉͕͌o̷̰̣̓p̵̧̹̊ ̵̩̎͝b̷̧͋̓r̵̪̈́e̸̦̔ȧ̴̠ṯ̷̢͝h̸̠̼́͌i̴͉͎̇͌n̶͚̳̈́g̶̯͇̒͠.̸̞̠͆͆

He looked up at her, puzzled. He went to take a breath to speak, and found that he couldn't. Looking at her in surprise, he tried again. His muscles wouldn't work to pull air into his lungs. He started to panic and turned to his compatriots. Fen locked eyes with them, and they said and did nothing. He started clutching at his throat, his fur puffed out, his mouth opening and closing, his tail vibrating furiously.

It sook quite a while for him to die.

When it was over, she touched her pad without looking at it, and the helmed unfolded and re-formed over her head. She waited until it was opaque again, and her face was obscured before she cried.

[j4gm]

There's gonna be a Fionna & Cake panel on Thursday! No actors due to the strike, of course, but showrunner Adam Muto and writer/boarder Ryann Shannon will apparently be there (I think board artists and animation writers are covered by the Animation Guild rather than the WGA so they're not crossing the picket line). This is separate from the actual screening of the first episode, which is happening the day before, on Wednesday.

[johnadamsbignaturals]

democratic leaders will not save you. WE, THE PEOPLE, are the ones to protect us.

WE KEEP US SAFE!!

———

edit: i looked up the video from the second slide and it seems as if the officer was aiming for the protesters head with that overhead strike, which is generally considered use of deadly force. this move is highly discouraged and largely fell out of use for crowd/riot control in the 1970s (sources under the cut).

In other words, Officer L. Ives here needs to face repercussions.

sources on overhead strikes:

1.) FM 3-19.15 — Section 4-3 (page 68 of the PDF).

Though this was written about the US Army, this document served as the foundation for all crowd control training manuals released since and the basis for domestic police training.

2.) Fundamentals of Modern Police Impact Weapons — pages 11, 12, 14, and 88.

This 1978 guide on batons and similar weapons, written by a Boarder Patrol officer, refers to overhand strikes like this as ineffective and used by poorly-trained officers. Overhand swings targeting the head fell out of use in the 70s, following lawsuits on police brutality.

3.) WPD Policy Manual, NO.400.3 - Page 2

List of the policies of the Worcester PD. Like the first source I listed, this police department warns against using overhead (as in, the officer’s hand is raised above his head before bringing the baton down) strikes AT ALL to avoid the possibility of hitting someone’s head in that fashion. This document also includes a color coded diagram of lethan vs less-lethal places to hit someone with a baton (I’d add it but this post is now at its 10-picture limit).

[airboarders]

Rhythm heaven blogs please interact <'3 I wanna follow and interact with some related blogs

[scotianostra]

September 6th 1826 saw the birth of Alison “Eilley” Oram Bowers at a farm near Forfar.

I learned about this extraordinary lady a few years ago, what a life she had, after marrying the first of her three husbands at aged just 15, she emigrated to America at 17 and during the next 60 years she became one of the richest, and most talked about women in the US, outlived three husbands and her children and reinvent herself, after becoming bankrupt as a fortune teller they called The “Seeress of Washoe”.

It is said Alison joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter day Saints as means to get across the Atlantic, and so it was after marrying the first of her three husbands, Stephen Hunter at aged just 15, she emigrated to America at 17. Other sources say she never became an actual follower of the Mormons, as they are generally known nowadays, but her Husband was baptised into the faith. I admit a lot of her life story is conjecture and on every occasion I have researched her new information arises.

Following the Mormon custom of her day, her husband, Stephen Hunter, took several wives after they had settled in Utah. Eilley, however, did not enjoy the polygamous lifestyle and soon divorced Hunter. In 1853, she married Alexander Cowan.

The two moved to the Carson Valley where they purchased 300 acres in Washoe Valley. In 1857, Cowan, who was also Mormon, returned to Salt Lake City during troubles between the church and the U.S. government.

Eilley chose to divorce Cowan rather than return to Utah and moved to Johntown, a mining camp below Virginia City, where she opened a boardinghouse.

During this time, she acquired a handful of mining claims from boarders unable to pay their debts and met a Comstock miner, Lemuel “Sandy” Bowers, who would become her third husband.

The two combined their mining holdings and, as luck would have it, ended up owning one of the Comstock’s earliest major silver strikes. Within a short time, the Bowers were among Nevada’s first mining millionaires.

Deciding to spend their seemingly limitless wealth, in 1864, the Bowers’ began building the huge stone mansion on Eilley’s acreage in Washoe Valley. While the home was under construction, they traveled to Europe to purchase furnishings. When it was completed, the mansion was one of the most magnificent homes in the state and the Bowers were willing party hosts. During the next four years, they indulged themselves on the finest clothing, furniture, and collectables.

In 1868, however, Sandy Bowers suddenly died of silicosis at the age of 35. By then, the original mine had become tapped out and he had invested much of their money in several unprofitable mining ventures.

After the estate was finally settled, Eilley found herself penniless. Despite her best efforts to hold on to the mansion, she was unable to keep it. Her misfortune continued when, in 1874, her adopted daughter, Persia, died at the age of 12. Since her days in Salt Lake City, Eilley had been intrigued by the occult.

Apparently during that time she acquired a crystal ball for fortune telling and had prognosticated for friends, although other sources say she brought the “Seer Stone” from her home in Scotland.

In 1875, following her many financial and personal setbacks, Eilley set up shop in Virginia City as the “Washoe Seeress.” Despite skeptics, she practiced her arcane arts for nearly a decade, until the decline of the Comstock.

In the 1880s, she moved to San Francisco, where she worked in various jobs, including–as she had so many years before operating a small boardinghouse. In 1898, she was placed in a rest home in Oakland, where she died in 1903 at the age of 77.

The Bowers Mansion survives and in 1946, it was purchased by Washoe County with the assistance of the Reno Women’s Civic Club and public donations; 20 years later, the property was updated and renovated. Today, it’s Bowers Mansion Regional Park. The home has been restored and refurbished with historic pieces donated by Nevada residents. The grounds contain hiking trails, picnic areas, spring-fed swimming pools, a playground, an amphitheater, and more.

Read more about this Eilley’s story here https://www.nevadawomen.org/research-center/biographies-alphabetical/alison-eilley-oram-bowers/

[totallynotcensorship]

@staff left the ban on palestine related tags right fucking now

isreal is starving, bombing, and using illegal weapons to genocide 1 million+ people in the north of gaza as we speak. and claiming that they should "evacuate to safty in the south"

THEY ARE LYING!!!!!

claiming that "they should just go south to be safe" is PURE BULLSHIT:

they said that before and the people who tried to evacuate got hit by isreal's rockets.

isreal striked rafah, at the very south boarders of gaza

they attacked taba and nuweiba, egyptian towns that are hundreds of kilometers south of gaza

isreal attacked un centers, ambulances, churches, hospitals, refuge centers

they bomb and starve the south constantly like they do in the north

they attacked cars and families of journalists, including ones that were outside of gaza

asking for just one day

JUST ONE DAY WITHOUT THE BAN

the situation is extremely urgent, 1.2 MILLION people's lives are on the line asshates. something needs to be done

is it money? the boycott is continuing and your user base isn't gonna support your site until you stop being genocide complacent, capitalist boat licking, colonialism support fascists.

LEFT THE BANS NOW!!!!

[paperback-rascal]

in act of revenge some padawans slay villages on backwater, desert planets while others... infect their enemies with diseases.

every since he was a youngling, Mercy was taught that his immunity might be dangerous for others and thus he had to keep people at arms length to keep them safe.

After loosing his master, Mercy, stricken by grief, saw his status quo as a passive carrier not as a hindrance but as... an asset.

Once Mercy was brought back from his stupor and questioned about what happened right after Hypatia's death, Mercy would claim that he "took care of his master's killer". Everyone at the Order assumed it meant striking the person down with the lightsaber or even foul play with the Force. Whoever no-one, even Mercy himself, learned the actual chain of events, as the padawan healer’s brain repressed the memories of that day.

In reality, the individual was infected with virus Mercy was an asymptomatic carrier of that time. They spread the pathogen unknowingly, as an incubator carrier at a star-port at the separatist-republic boarder when they boarded a cruiser to their planet.

The epidemy started right before the Clone Wars, gain momentum during the conflict and died-down shortly after Empire was born.

Both Republic and Separatists cried foul. HoloNET fed the fire with conspiracy theories about virus escaping from a secret lab or bio-weapons being used.

It is partially true as Mercy can (and was used few times) as walking, talking, breathing bio-weapon (also a short-cut in engineering vaccines - but that's an idea for another art/comics)! The padawan healer is a wild card that can either result in nothing - few coughs and sniffles - or crate an issue.

Interestingly enough, Mercy along with 347th, was send to the infected zones few times. The healer apprentice never made a connection it as his own doing.

---

See more posts about 347th regiment here -> [LINK] <-

===

STAR WARS: The Clone Wars/The Bad Batch © George Lucas/ Dave Filoni/ LucasFilm/ Disney

[moonwaterart]

I posted this on my Twitter and tiktok and it only really got interaction on tiktok. Which like… I’m used to, but I forgot to post it here. So I’m posting it here.

Right now Esims are the the best way to send support if you can spare the money as food and supply trucks are getting backed up at the boarder due to IOF soldiers wanting to starve and deprive Palestinians basic human rights. If you can’t spare the money; boycotting, pirating and participating in the strikes that you can are the best options.

[virgo-mess]

Kidnapper for Hire

Chapter Two

This is going to be a two part chapter and this part is on the shorter side but I hope you like it anyway. I will probably do a little editing after I upload but there should be no serious changes

TW: Mentions of murder, Reader is being held hostage, police corruption, Cash is sending mixed signals but I think he's genuinely as confused as reader is, and I guess you could say the kiss boarders on dub con in this situation given the circumstances.

Kidnapper for Hire Chapter Two: Officer Giraffe

Reader’s Pov

You let out a soft sigh as you lay your head against one of the trucks seats with heavy eyelids. Your abductor had been driving for at least two hours now making small talk with you every so often, in what you think is an attempt to soothe you. Which you still find utterly confusing considering the circumstances, why didn’t he just get this out of the way this afternoon. You’d never admit it out loud but, he could’ve coaxed you into his truck at the café quite easily if he actually tried because although you found him intimidating you couldn’t deny you found him incredibly alluring. You would’ve thought a man as attractive as him would have at least an ounce of James Green’s inflated ego, you would argue someone as pretty as your kidnapper actually deserved to have such an ego. Sure, James was rich but truthfully that was the only thing moderately attractive about him and he knew it, you were honestly surprised he sent a man this handsome to get you because everything about James screamed insecure. That was why he had to buy everyone off, that was why he tried to buy you and Simone off, he knew deep down that regardless of money you wouldn’t pick him, especially not with options like the man he hired out there. Honestly, if James hadn’t sponsored that pageant, and you had simply passed him on the street you wouldn’t have given him a second glance. You assume the only reason he picked this man was because he was a cop, a dirty cop at that, you can’t help but wonder what James offered him in return for doing this and you also wonder if he knows he won’t actually be getting whatever it was he offered him. It was clear to you that after all had been said and done the only person with their hands dirty in the end would be him.

You continue to stare up at him from your position on the floor admiring the way the lights on the highway illuminate his pretty blue eyes. You can’t tell if he’s taking you out of the city, he got on the expressway a while ago, but you consider this may just be an attempt to throw you off. Amy already told you he was renting one of the properties near the Cape May Lighthouse, that should’ve been you first clue that something was amiss, families spent thousands to rent out the beach front houses on a weekly basis in the summer and most of them were from the wealthier parts of Manhattan. He didn’t strike you as a trust fund baby and the odds of a cop being able to afford one of those houses on a policeman’s salary were slim. You glance at him again and wonder why he’s still bothering to wear a ski mask when you already knew what he looked like, and he didn’t have a face that was easy to forget. Part of you just wanted him to take it off so you had something beautiful to look at in your numbered days left on this planet. Your love and sex life had been high and dry long before you ended up on that roof in Seattle. Contrary to what most people wanted to believe, even beauty queens struggled when it came to love and relationships. You never knew if someone genuinely liked you or if they just liked the way you looked, such was the case for your last serious relationship, the first and only one you’d ever really been in, and it only lasted your senior year at UCLA. To this day you still aren’t sure if your ex ever actually liked you because it seemed to you, he only liked the way people looked at him when he was with you. Sure, he bought you flowers once a week, but he could never remember what your favorite one was or what your favorite color was or even how you took your tea and coffee. Your split was amicable, but you regretted ever trying to be intimate with someone who didn’t even love you, you could count the times you had something resembling sex on two fingers and both times were awkward and deeply unsatisfying. To the point where you just didn’t have a desire to ever do it again.

So, needless to say, that sudden wave of arousal you felt while you were being taken against your will was bewildering. Even as you stared at him now, with your heart still heavy with trepidation, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him for some reason. You wonder if he knows he’s leading you to your impending doom right now, you still didn’t know why James killed Simone, but you were sure he thought you turning him in was a thousand times worse than whatever it was he thought she’d done. Considering he went through all this trouble to track you down, how he was able to find you in the first place was another issue entirely. He had to have had a connection inside the U.S. Marshals Service, you were beginning to regret not taking Jim’s call, but you can’t help but wonder if Jim was your betrayer.

“What are you thinking so hard about down there, princess” his deep teasing voice floods through the truck pulling you out of your thoughts, you feel a blush sweep across your cheeks as you realize you’d been staring at him for at least ten minutes. You blink a few times letting your eyes trail over his tall, muscled form as you contemplate what question to ask him first.

“Why are you still wearing a mask, I hate to break it to you, but I already know what you look like, Giraffe” you quipped, toying with one of your shoelaces absentmindedly as you stare up at him. You see his eyes narrow slightly as he let out an annoyed sounding sigh under his breath, you can’t help the amused smile that twitches on your lips when he yanks the mask off and plops it in your lap. His grey hair is a tousled mess, sticking up at odd angles but he somehow still manages to look like he belongs in a magazine spread. You wonder why he even bothered to become a cop if money was all he cared about in the world, he could’ve quite easily have been a successful model, actor, or dare you say male escort….

“Forgot it was on. Oh, Giraffe, that’s really cute princess. I don’t think anyone has called me that since I was ten” he said sarcastically, you don’t miss the snarky eye roll he gives you even in the dim lighting and you can’t help but roll your eyes yourself.

“What do you expect me to call you, it’s not like you introduced yourself when you broke into my house and kidnapped me, did you. I can think of a few other things to call you if you’d like, none of them will be quite that cute though” you said in a bratty tone with a slight scowl making its way onto your face as you stare up at him. Wondering where he found the audacity to be the one complaining right now. His body tenses slightly, as he glances down at you with an unreadable expression on his face before focusing his icy eyes back on the road.

“I’m not sure what you think you have to lose by telling me your name. We both know I’m not making it out of this alive anyway, surely James Green told you that. Since you’re the catalyst of my impending demise the very least you could do is tell me your name, officer Giraffe” you quipped sharply, you don’t miss the way his large, gloved hands tighten around the steering wheel, you find yourself wishing it was your neck instead, silently begging him to put you out of your misery. You watch his chest rise and fall with every deep breath he takes before meeting your gaze with intense blue eyes filled with a shocking amount of anguish as they stare back at you.

“He assured me you weren’t going to die, Y/N” he said calmly, you scoff looking up at him incredulously before letting out a bitter humorless laugh at his mock ignorance. If that was all it took to get him to kidnap you then he was a dirtier cop than you thought, no one could be that stupid.

“Don’t tell me you actually believed that I know you’re a dirty cop but not even you could be that stupid. You know it’s not true, you want to believe it is to make yourself feel better about what you’re doing which is fine but at least admit that to yourself. You’re a shitty person, own it, accept it, you’ve already decided my life is worth less than whatever it is he’s offering you so, you don’t have to convince me my life meant or means something to you at all. If it did you would’ve asked me why I moved across the country to get away from him, why I’m always alone when I clearly don’t want to be, or why I lock down my house every night like it’s the god damn white house. So cut the shit or shut up” you snapped, feeling your eyes sting a bit with fresh tears welling up in them, feeling completely overwhelmed. You take a few calming breaths but let the tears fall from your eyes because you can’t remember the last time you had even cried in the last two years. You didn’t cry at the station, and you never got to go to Simone’s funeral, so you didn’t go through the whole grieving process. You just shut down and went into a constant state of emotional numbness, you had no one to lean on the program required you to not contact former friends and family that weren’t in the program, and you were told to never return to San Francisco. The place where you and Simone grew up together, you had so many memories of riding the cable cars down to Fisherman’s Wharf to ride the carousal and seeing which one of you could eat a whole Killer Crab at the Crab House. You often wondered what your parents and Simone’s parents think happened to you or if they thought of you at all, at the time you thought it would be best to not get them mixed up in the mess you had found yourself in. You never considered the fact that to them it might feel like they lost two daughters that night, you always reassured yourself they would at least get closure once the Feds finished their case against James Green but now that possibility seemed more and more unlikely.

“Y/N, hey, shhh” he said softly, you jump slightly in surprise when you hear that name fall from his lips again, it still sounded so foreign, but you like the way it sounds when he says it for some reason and you hate yourself for it. You don’t reply as you curl your body away from him resting your head on the seat and pulling your knees into your chest. You watch the tops of glowing streetlamps pass the passenger window with silent tears rolling off your cheeks onto the car seat, two years’ worth of repressed emotions finally freeing themselves from their confines.

“What’s your name” you breathed out just above a whisper, you feel his arm stiffen slightly, halting the soothing passes, a bewildering wave of panic curses through you when he starts to pull away. “No, please don’t stop” you whined, turning your body to face him. He gazes down at you for a long moment, the soft yellow orange glow of a traffic light dancing on the side of his face as the truck comes to a stop indicating that you’re no longer on a highway. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you remember what’s actually happening and what he’s actually doing. You let out a shaky breath aggressively wiping the rest of your tears away as you move further away from him. Slightly angry with yourself for allowing that moment to even happen, you didn’t deserve to be comforted, you didn’t comfort Simone in her final moments, so why should you be comforted in yours.

You’re surprised to find that crying actually makes you feel better, relieved even, like the weight of some of the emotional baggage you’d been carrying around for two years was finally being lifted off your shoulders. You hear your kidnapper shuffling around for a bit before you feel his hand making soft passes through your hair, his fingers tuck some of it behind your ear and you notice he’s no longer wearing a glove. As he drags a knuckle gingerly down the length of your cheek, wiping a few of the tears away, you absentmindedly lean into his touch liking the way his slightly callused skin feels against your soft skin. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched or comforted you, let alone like this. So, you let him continue dragging his warm rough fingers down your skin and through your hair for what feels like forever, the gentleness he seems keen on showing you is still confusing. You’re sure James told him to keep you alive but a small part of you would be more accepting of your impending demise if your perplexing kidnapper cop was the one doing it because, at least then you’d know you’d die feeling somewhat content.

“Forget what I just said, I don’t want you to touch me, and I don’t want you to comfort me. Not now, not when you’re doing this to me, okay.” You snapped, surprising yourself with how confidently it came out because although you were strangely attracted to him, you were still very much afraid of him. You wonder how a cop, someone sworn to protect and serve others, could stray so far down a path like this. A green blue hue from the traffic light illuminates the truck and the side of his face but he makes no effort to hit the gas, still staring down at you.

“My name is Cash and I promise you’re not going to die; I will not let it happen, okay” he said just above a whisper, ignoring the angry blare of the car horn behind you as he looked at you with sincere blue eyes. Cash reached one of his hands out toward you, tucking it under your arm he pulled you onto the passenger seat with ease, he peels his eyes off you for a moment to step on the gas. You can’t bring yourself to focus on anything passing the windows because your eyes are locked on him, taking in his every move, every mannerism, with perplexed fascination.  Cash keeps his icy eyes on the road with furrowed brows, looking like he was having an internal battle with himself as his glove free hand leaves the steering wheel to hover over your smaller one several times.

“I was really hoping you’d fall asleep before we get there, y/n..” He trailed softly, you tense up uncomfortably despite the gentle tone he uses, a soft whimper escapes your lips as you stare at him with untrusting eyes. Cash seems to resolve his internal dilemma upon hearing the sound fall from your parted lips his large glove free hand falls on top of your smaller one, dragging his calloused thumb over your soft skin gingerly. Another faint red glow flows through the windshield, and the truck rolls to a slow stop, the rev of the engine still vibrating through the leather seats. Cash’s large, muscled form ghosts the side of your body almost teasingly as he finally meets your gaze his eyes look less icy as they stare back at you this time, looking almost inviting in the dim glow of the traffic light and passing headlights.

“James won’t be there, y/n, I promise” he cooed into your ear, his lips lingering next to your face for a moment before settling on your cheek in the form of a kiss. The tender peck sends a shiver down your spine and a blush flooding to your cheeks as he pulls away to gauge your reaction. You furrow your brows as your perplexed fascination with him deepens, taking in his every move with curious eyes. Cash cocked his head at you, his eyes searching yours for something with a slight smirk playing on his lips in the dim lighting his thumb is still stroking the back of your hand slowly.

“What was that for” you said softly, staring at him intensely as he flicked his eyes back towards the now green traffic light wordlessly hitting the gas pedal.

“Why, do you want another one, how about I do you one better. I’ll give you a real one if you promise to go to sleep for me right now, princess and then I’ll tell you what it was for in the morning” he coaxed flirtatiously, you gasped softly staring back at him in disbelief.

“What” you said, Cash glanced at you with an unreadable expression as the truck slowed to a stop once again, his blue eyes were still soft as they scanned over your face for a moment.

“If you say, “I promise to go to sleep Cash”, I’ll give you a kiss goodnight, y/n and then you’ll go to sleep.” he crooned smirking at you in the dim glow of the traffic light. You cock an eyebrow at him in bewilderment as you stare at him with calculating eyes, wondering if he was being serious or just toying with you out of spite.

“I promise to go to sleep… officer giraffe” you said coyly, innocently batting your eyelashes at him but still somehow managing to keep a straight face as you gauge his reaction.  He doesn’t seem half as bothered as when you called him that twenty minutes ago, in fact you think you saw an amused smile play on his lips for a moment.

“I suppose that close enough for tonight, princess” he said softly, slowly leaning his face towards yours, you feel your heartrate pick up suddenly feeling very nervous, you didn’t think he was actually going to do it. And now you couldn’t believe you were contemplating letting him do it, letting him kiss you when he had just taken you against your will mere hours ago. You find you can’t really think straight as his blue eyes inch closer to you, until they're indistinguishable blue blobs.

“Ready” he breathed out, his hot breath washing over your lips gently, your heart is pounding so fast you’re sure he can hear it above the faint sounds of car tires rolling over pavement. You inhale sharply, only giving him a sound of acknowledgement as your brain doesn’t seem to be forming words right now. Cash makes a pleased sounding murmur before letting his lip touch yours in a feather like peck that could hardly pass as a real kiss, it’s teasing at best, and you’re surprised to find yourself annoyed with him for it.

“That’s not a r…” your words die in your throat when he captures you in a second more intense kiss that had you fighting back a moan as you kissed him back. You hadn’t kissed anyone in about five years, and you couldn’t remember one ever feeling like this one and you couldn’t help but hate yourself for it. Cash pulled away abruptly, breathing heavily as he looked at you with dark almost confused eyes.

“Now, what did you promise me, princess” he coaxed, leaning back against the driver’s seat with an almost adoring smile despite the way the events have unraveled in the last couple hours and your impending doom on the horizon. You open and close your mouth to speak several times but can’t seem to find the words as you throw you head back against the car seat defeated.  “Why don’t you lay your head on my lap, so you don’t hurt your neck, princess…” he said softly…