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detachedminxsfics · 7 months

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Bloody Mess

Masterlist

Characters: Comedian (Edward Blake) x Vigilante F!Reader

Summary: When a fight between the two of you goes wrong you find yourself and your arch-enemy The Comedian indulging in a different type of violence.

Word count: 3.7K

Warnings: NSFW - physical violence, rough vaginal sex, blood play, semi-public sex, hair pulling, spanking, dom/sub dynamic, Eddie's filthy mouth, shotgunning

A/N: Nasty, bloody rooftop sex with the Comedian, need I say more?

The sky was darkened, though the busy roads; the many scarlet-tinted tail lights that blared from every vehicle and looked like little red dots from your view relentlessly lit the city. You stood on the ledge of one of many rooftops you'd crossed tonight in search of anything, something. Someone to kill, someone to save, trouble to start and to end. Your idea of heroism was never exactly clean cut, and it showed in your violent streak of vigilantism. The government was never particularly fond of the masked freaks running rampant in New York City let alone the occasional rowdy civilian or protester you might've beat half to death, or all the way to, here and there. You were a wanted woman. The target on your back got you used to the feeling of being watched, an unlikely familiarity with that chill that swept down your spine when it felt like someone was waiting for you to turn your back and take a swing at you, or when he was here. You turned around, and sure as shit there he was, him. Your arch nemesis Edward Blake, the fucking Comedian. You despised the bastard, and he hated you no less. Oftentimes you'd leave each other so bloodied and beaten that when you did manage to get away you'd be in recovery for weeks, and he'd broken more bones than you had fingers.

"Fancy seeing you tonight, doll." Eddie spoke past the cigar balancing in the corner of his mouth, his hand reaching up to close his fingers over the cigar as smoke streamed out from the ignited end.

His back was pressed up against the door that led to the rooftop of the building, a smile playing on his lips as he inhaled deeply before removing the cigar from his lips. Asshole took the easy way up. The dynamic between you and the Comedian was one of brutality, the two of you indulging in an endlessly intense cycle of violence over and over again, and you were sure you'd do it until one of you killed the other. And as he took one last drag and tossed the cigar off to somewhere on the rooftop you knew it was time for this usual rough little dance of yours, a flurry of swinging fists and nasty kicks until one of you got too tired or injured to fight the other and managed to pull off some kind of escape.

"Oh Eddie, you know this didn't happen by chance. You chase me through this city like a lost puppy."

His smile faded, the shift in his eyes highlighted that much more by the black eye mask that surrounded them, and his jaw tensed with the irritation of what you'd accused him of. You practically called him clingy. He stormed towards you, his boots thudding against the roof as he moved in strides with a focused look in his eyes, the look he usually had before he punched you square in the mouth and threatened to take a few teeth while he was at it. The approaching attack had you hopping down from the ledge and charging towards him knowing you couldn't let him reach you first, you always met him halfway. As soon as you were within reach Eddie swung, a heavy punch that you narrowly dodged and attempted one of your own, except yours landed. Your fist slammed against his jaw, your knuckles splitting when you drew your fist back and dealt a second in succession, but the third was greedy. Eddie recovered, not that he needed much, and caught your wrist. He swiftly twisted your arm behind your back and kneed you down to the concrete, your face slamming into the ground and the feel of strain and tension searing through your shoulder making you let out a wheezy pain-filled laugh. You turned your head to look at him ignoring the friction burn you were surely scraping along your cheek in the process, a smile playing on your lips as you finally felt the blood lining your top lip, your nose pouring with it. You'd have to crack that back into place later.

"You know I like it rough."

His eyes filled with amusement, the smile he too allowed to spread across his lips reflecting that sickeningly pure joy. He loved having you pinned bloody and beaten beneath him, but more than anything he loved that you cracked a smile through the pain no matter the agony. It was one of few similarities between the two of you, but most definitely his favourite.

"Good, 'cause there's more where that came from."

He had your arms pinned behind your back, the other clasping the nape of your neck to snatch you harshly upright from the concrete, and you could feel how he was readying to slam you back down again. Fuck that. You swung your head back and slammed the back of your head into his face, the sudden force making Eddie loosen his grip enough for you to wiggle free and spin around to face him. He was clutching his nose while muttering curses under his breath, blood escaping from his nose and through the gaps between his fingers, dripping from his chin onto the floor below. Then, as the initial adrenaline began to subside, you felt a pounding sensation throughout the back of your head. You reached up to pass your hand over it for a moment and hissed as your palm lightly pressed down whilst you tried to blink away the fact that you were seeing doubles, then drew your hand back and raised it in front of your face to inspect it. No blood, but you'd have one hell of a concussion. It seemed Eddie came to just as quickly as you did, your eyes locking as you glared daggers at one another. He was the first to stand and practically lunge in your direction, an infernal rage in his eyes burning so bright that you were sure this would be it, he'd surely crush your throat if he got a hold of you, but you'd go out swinging. You quickly rose to your feet and leapt at him when he was within reach, tackling him to the ground and landing on top of him when his back collided with the ground, the solid wall of a man that he was cushioning your fall. He took a deep breath a little winded and you used the opportunity to bring your fist down onto him, once, twice, but the third was wishful thinking. It seemed bad things came in threes this evening. He raised his leg up under you and kicked you, a boot to the stomach so hard there was nothing beneath you before you knew it, until there was; and by hell did you know it. You landed awkwardly on the ledge of the rooftop, the immense pain coursing through your abdomen and the blood you seemed to be painting the ledge in with every cough sending what of your body was on over, and you slipped. You managed to grip the edge with both hands just as you felt the nothingness below you, wind rushing through your hair and the view of passing cars on the streets hundreds of feet below taunting you. It was a long way down, and the gnawing pain in the shoulder Eddie had busted was making it hard to keep a grip, a small scream escaping your lips as it only worsened the longer you held on for. Just then, there he was. He leaned over and hovered just above you to let out a small chuckle at the state you were in, his eyes following the way your fingers were slowly slipping further and further towards your demise.

"Well shit, looks like I'll get the last laugh after all, doll."

It was as you looked into his eyes that you felt it, pure unadulterated fear. You'd never felt anything like it in your life, had never been this close to death, and the place you were most likely going was nowhere good. You never thought you'd beg him for anything, but you began sputtering the pleas from your lips before your mind could stop you.

"Eddie, Eddie please! My arm, fuck I can't!"

Under any other circumstances seeing you beg for your life would've pleased him, made him laugh even, but his smile faded. The Comedian stopped laughing. You couldn't hold on any longer, frantic eyes fixed on his as you scrambled slightly before being forced to release your grip and prepare to feel yourself falling through the air, eyes screwing shut for a moment out of sheer panic. But you felt nothing. When you opened your eyes Eddie was leaning over the ledge, his hand tightly gripping yours. You thought he ought to have stamped your hands off at first, or simply let you fall to your death, but there was something strange circling in that man's eyes, something you couldn't quite recognise. He just couldn't let you die. He pulled you up and wrapped his arm around you as he lifted you and pressed you to him, allowing himself to fall back onto the rooftop and take you with him. As his back pressed up against the concrete you attempted to calm your hysterical breathing, his chest rising and falling beneath you as he inhaled his own heavy, fatigued breaths. What could be distinguished as stars through the evening smog twinkled brightly overhead, the moon casting a light over one side of Eddie's face illuminating the scrapes and cuts you loved to mark one another with, and you dare say the two of you found your first moment of peace; of silence. Intoxicated with the adrenaline rush of a second chance at life at the hands of your own would-be killer you lifted your head from his chest to look at him, him too lowering his eyes to meet yours though they appeared to wander elsewhere from time to time, and you crashed your lips against his. It was reckless, and Eddie could've sent your ass tumbling over the roof again, but he didn't. His lips moved back against yours hard enough to bruise, his tongue forcefully pushing into your mouth as your slightly blood-filled mouths began to mix, both coating each other's tongues with that salty metallic mixture. It was a goddamn mess.

"You're so fucking pretty, sweetheart." Eddie whispered between your bloody kisses, the surprisingly gentle flattery making you laugh against his lips.

"I always knew you had a thing for me." You teased, the comment prompting him to bring his hand down onto your ass hard and send a loud smack sound ringing through the air; that'd leave a mark.

You jolted a little as you bit down on your lip and felt the sting prickling across your skin, the warning stare he shot you and the dangerously dark smile forming on his lips reminding you of how vulnerable of a position you were in.

"This doesn't change anything, doll. Just a little fun."

He flipped you so that it was your back now pressed against the cold ground and he was hovering above you, one of his hands trailing from your breasts down to your stomach, and then further until he was skimming his fingers over your inner thigh, dangerously close to where you shamefully needed him more than ever. Eddie gripped your thigh, squeezing the flesh and revelling in the small moan that slipped past your lips from the smallest of touch.

"You keep up with making noises like that and you're gonna be the death a' me in more ways than one."

He brought your legs further up onto his lap, angling you so that he could work a hand behind your back in search of your costume's zipper. He started tugging it down the moment he felt it against his fingers, the form-fitting material of your bodysuit spreading out slowly over your back and exposing your skin to the freezing skyline chill. When the zipper stopped just above your behind Eddie was eager to reach around the front to start peeling it off you, your body arching to assist him with the removal. He tsked as he reached your hips, your legs hung over his lap stopping him from dragging the material down your legs.

"You ladies and your damn costumes, legs up."

You weren't the type to take orders, especially from that of Edward Blake, but you were for tonight. You drew your legs back and raised them allowing him to drag the gathered fabric down your legs, carelessly tossing it aside leaving you in nothing but the g-string that hardly constituted as underwear and the garter belt laid over the top, your stockings fastened to the clips. His eyes lit up at your taste in panties, and a throaty chuckle escaped his throat.

"You always been such a nasty slut?" He rasped as he dug a finger beneath some of the material situated on your hips and pinged it against your skin, the elasticated sting making you wince.

It was clear Eddie took no prisoners even when it came to that of intimacy, his fingers impatiently fiddling with the comically large buckled belt resting across his hips and tossing it aside once he got it undone, his fingers pulling his zipper down and wedging into the waistband of his pants to push them down afterwards, letting the material sit just below his hips. Almost irritated he dug his fingers into the front of your panties and tore them clean off, the rip of the lace and the sudden exposure to the cold almost causing your legs to attempt to snap shut and a surprised gasp leave your lips, but your legs draped either side of his hips meant you could do no such thing.

"Eddie!" You scolded as he discarded your ruined panties, the look he shot you once he turned his attention back towards you sending a chill down your spine.

He was grinning, the blood drying beneath his nose and decorating other parts of his face making for one hell of a mess, and making his amusement all the more sinister. It was now that it occurred to you that giving yourself to the comedian was like selling your soul to the devil. Eddie was a cruel, callous bastard who would do with your body as he pleased, and you were opening yourself up to whatever sadistic torment he had in store for you, but what really frightened you? You weren't sure you cared. He roughly grasped your hip with one hand, the other digging into one side of his pants as he pushed them down until he'd entirely freed himself, his cock springing free and leaving you barely able to spare a glance as he immediately leaned into the space between your spread legs and took hold of your other hip, his calloused fingers digging into your sides as he lined himself up and practically slammed inside you. He gave you no time to adjust, giving his first thrust with no mercy for the way you were still getting used to the stretch around him, the sharp pain making you wince and grip his forearm, your fingernails digging into his skin as you squirmed beneath him.

"What, can't take it now, sweetheart? Thought you liked it rough." He punctuated his taunting words with another hard, merciless thrust, your eyes screwing shut as you let out a pain-filled moan.

"That was when we were beating the shit out of each other, Eddie." You forced through your desperate and strained breaths, the reminder of the violence you shared only minutes ago making him smile a little and run his tongue over his bloody bottom lip.

"Fighting, fucking, same damn thing." He leaned down to capture your lips before you could argue with him, the groan that he breathed into your mouth as he gave another deep, bottomless thrust mixing with your own muffled, high-pitched moan.

He tasted like cigars, the facial hair dusting his top lip skimming over your lips as he stole the air right out of your lungs and exchanged it for his own. Eddie's lips moved against yours until he pulled back and used his bruising grip on your hips to flip you onto your stomach, his hands immediately readjusting onto your hips and bringing your ass upright making your back arch, and then he was inside you again. You flattened your palms against the concrete as you tried to come to terms with the new unforgiving angle, the sounds of skin meeting skin echoing throughout the evening air as did the moans you could no longer suppress, the noise only seeming to further spur him on to bury himself inside you over and over. Then his hand was in your hair, wrapping it around his leather fingerless gloves and using the grip on your hair to jerk your head backwards only arching you further, his hips bucking up as he utilised the newfound angle.

"Oh fuck, Eddie!" You cried through pleasure filled sobs, tears trickling down your cheeks from the mixture of the searing burn in your scalp and the way he fucked into you so ruthlessly.

Even then you somehow found yourself needing more, and so did he. He leaned into you and pressed his lips against your neck, sucking marks into your skin that would be a deep violet in only a matter of hours and lightly biting with his teeth, still tugging your hair all the while. Eddie was branding you. You'd have to sport these marks on your neck for weeks along with the other bruises and cuts that you'd earned from the way he'd manhandled you moments prior, not that now was any different. It just felt better. But only the two of you would know the man those marks pertained to, and you'd have to hear him taunting you about it anytime you run into him from here on out. Your thoughts were interrupted as he brought his free hand against your ass with a hard smack, the biting sting spreading through your skin making your eyes water once more, though the cry filled whimper that escaped your lips told a different story. He chuckled darkly at the sound you made, his chest plate pressed up against your back and lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered.

"You gotta let me hurt you like this more often." He teased, still pushing your buttons even when he was so deep in you you could hardly think straight.

"Fuck you." You spat back, though Eddie didn't seem to care much for your protest as he gripped your jaw and moved your head so your mouth could sloppily meet his, your lips parting more submissively than you'd like to admit as his tongue slipped past your lips.

He could still taste your blood on your tongue, his mouth claiming yours and groaning against your lips as he did, and then he pulled back. He unwrapped your hair from his hand and let you fall back towards the concrete, feebly propping yourself on your arms as he gripped your hips again and picked up the pace of his hard thrusts, the spot he was driving into over and over making your legs quiver. It was no surprise when your orgasm crashed over you, your palms instinctively flattening against the ground as the occasional minute stone dug into your palm, the way your breath caught in your throat before you let out a long, pleased moan making him all the more eager. His hips started to stutter whilst a low grunt rumbled from his throat, and he managed to pull out just in time to shoot hot wet spurts on your inner thigh, his hand resting at the top of your ass as he watched the droplets dribble down your thigh and slightly pool on the concrete at the inner side of your knee. Too weak to hold yourself up any longer and having already pushed your injured shoulder to the limit you let yourself drop to the ground, the side of your face smushed against the roof as you tried to steady your breathing, Eddie too slumping against your back but propping himself up enough that he wouldn't crush you with his weight.

"That was almost as fun as kicking your ass." You teased once you'd gathered yourself, the comment making him scoff and lift himself to move off of you, readjusting his costume and tucking himself back into his pants.

"Someone's ass still got mighty kicked." He retorted and gave your abused ass a firm slap just to remind you, the sound it drew from you making him chuckle.

You winced from the sharp pain and dreaded the thought of catching a glimpse of whatever he'd done to you back there in the mirror later, to your whole body really. Gathering what was left of your dignity you picked yourself up and slipped your bodysuit back on, the way the material clung to your afflicted skin doing you no favours, and the embarrassing reminder that you were now pantyless thanks to The Comedian as the material uncomfortably lined your crotch. You took a deep breath and stepped closer to him when you were done, a lit cigar now balancing between his lips just as it had when you first laid eyes on him earlier in the night, though he looked much more dishevelled now. There was a thin sheen of sweat on some parts of his face, stray strands of hair falling from the way his hair was somewhat swept back and curling at either side of his forehead. Blood had dried above his top lip from when you'd given him quite the nose bleed, some on his teeth which you could only make out when he closed his fingers around the cigar and removed it from his lips, grabbing your chin to guide your lips towards his, smashing his mouth against yours. He used the opportunity to fill your mouth with cigar smoke until it was almost like breathing him in, humming a small moan against his lips from the sensation before Eddie let go of your chin and pulled back. He cracked a cocky smile as he watched you exhale the smoke once your lips had parted, the hubris in his expression only heightened that much more by the eye mask that encircled his eyes.

"See you around, doll."

He murmured before setting his cigar back between his lips and heading back through the way he came, the metal door slamming shut behind him.

#jeffrey dean morgan #jeffrey dean morgan smut #comedian #edward blake #edwardblake x reader #watchmen #watchmen 2009 #comedian x reader #watchmencomedian

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paintyoureyeswithavividmind · 11 months

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close to home | chapter ten

plot: the reader prepares for the war against woodbury

series masterlist

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x f!reader Word Count: 1,785 Warnings: violence, blood, character death A/N: thanks for reading! chapter ten, yay! Also I am having surgery tomorrow and will most likely not post for a couple days while I'm in recovery lol wish me luck!

You slammed the lid on the box and grunted as you picked it up. It had been a few days since you and Daryl sat in the guard tower together, and each day brought a wave of worry and anxiety to you. First, Rick met with the governor, then Merle was killed, and now you and the group were packing up. Rick was expecting the governor to up at any point, and he wanted everyone out of there when he did.

With the last of your supplies finally packed and waiting to be brought out, you took a deep breath and looked at Michonne and Rick talking. It looked important, so you grabbed the box again and carried it to where everyone else was.

Maggie and Glenn were loading their weapons, already dressed in riot gear and ready for action. You would be stationed with Carol in the hallways, ready with explosives, while Rick and Michonne would set the alarms off in the generator room as a signal. All while Daryl took care of the weapons on the trucks, they undoubtedly would have.

It was a risky play, but everyone voted on it. You all wanted to make a stand.

“How you feelin’ ‘bout this?”

You turned to look at Daryl and shrugged your shoulders. “We gotta do what we gotta do.”

“You can wait out with Hershel. Beth and Carl will be there with Judith. No shame in it,” He said, but you shook your head.

“I’m here to be a part of the group. I’m capable with a gun. Besides, Carol needs someone to watch her back down there. And I don’t think Rick would think too highly of me if I chicken out,” You said.

He looked at you for a few seconds and nodded slowly, then left to talk to Rick. You walked over to where Carol was getting the bag ready with the explosives. “You ready for this?” You asked her.

“I’m ready for it to be over,”

***

The sound of the governor’s men screaming in fear from the explosives would’ve had you laughing if you weren’t too focused on making sure they didn’t push forward. The siren blared in the hall, and you could hear gunfire. You kept your body pressed against the wall to ensure no bullets would hit you.

Carol was on the other side of the hallway, covering her face so she didn’t breathe in the smoke. You followed her lead and waited as the attackers ran from the hallways. Within a few seconds, you heard distant gunshots and sighed loudly.

Rick and Michonne came running up the hallway, and you and Carol fell in line. The cell blocks smelt of gunpowder, and the door was left ajar, where you could hear Glenn and Maggie talking to Daryl. When the four of you caught up to them at the fences, you were all breathing heavily.

“We did it,” Rick said, “We drove them out.”

Michonne was next to speak. “We should go after them.”

“We should finish it,” Daryl replied.

A debate broke out for a few seconds before Rick decided that Michonne was right, and you were all going to follow the crew and finish the fight at Woodbury.

***

Within ten minutes, you, Michonne, and Rick followed Daryl out of the prison courtyard in the pickup. Maggie and Glenn had opted to stay behind, but you chose to go. You wanted to be there for Rick and Daryl. Even Michonne, who you’d grown to respect in the little time you’ve known her.

You weren’t on the road long before abandoned vehicles blocked your path. Daryl and Rick slowed down, and you all jumped out to see what was happening. You were silent as they talked, your stomach heavy as you looked at all the bodies. You felt like throwing up.

When someone banged on the window from inside the car, you all jumped and aimed your guns at the door. Daryl opened the door and pulled the woman out, who immediately started to speak.

“He… he did this. He opened fire on everybody. If I hadn’t…” She stuttered, looking around his disbelief. You felt bad for her. She looked like she was in shock but seemed alright otherwise. You didn’t see any blood that looked like hers.

“What happened?” Rick asked.

“He made us pull over and just started shooting at everyone….” She said, “He told us you were all murderers and terrorists. I don’t…”

“She’s in shock,” You said, lowering your gun and taking a step. “I don’t think you’ll get anything from her right now. She’s probably dehydrated and needs to sit.”

Rick looked at you for a long moment before nodding. “You try anything, hurt any of us, and I will kill you,” Rick warned.

You led the woman back to the car and had her sit on the truck bed. You gave her some water and a few small pieces of jerky from your rations. She nodded but stayed silent, drinking and eating as quickly as possible. You glanced at your group, who were all looking around and grabbing all the weapons on the ground. You couldn’t believe how quickly you’d gotten pulled into this mess.

“My name is Karen. I was in Woodbury for a little while but I never… I didn’t know he was capable of this.” Karen said after a minute of silence. “And now the people left at Woodbury are defenseless. What if he went back and killed them all? Most of them have been behind those gates since nearly the start. I don’t know how they could defend themselves. I don’t…”

You grabbed the water bottle she had set down and gave it to her. “It’s okay. Just breathe.” As she drank, you glanced over to Rick and met his eye. You nodded your head, and he started walking over. You met him a few feet away from Karen and spoke hushedly. “Her name is Karen. The governor slaughtered everyone. She’s lucky she survived. She said the people back at Woodbury are defenseless. Been there since almost the start….” You trailed off for a moment. “I don’t know how I feel about this. Those people might not have even known anything about us.”

You could tell from the look on Rick’s face that he was thinking the same thing. “Let’s take Karen and go see what we see. But we go in prepared.”

***

You were prepared when you went into Woodbury. You were prepared for another fight, and you were prepared to kill. You weren’t prepared for Tyreese and Sasha meeting you at the gate, with no sighting of the governor. You weren’t prepared for Karen to tell Rick about Andrea and find her bit in one of the holding cells.

The group's reaction was devastating, and you tried to hold back tears while they said goodbye. You waited outside with the rest of them for that final gunshot, and all the tension in the room seemed to drop when it rang out.

“We need to decide now what we are doing,” Rick said, his voice full of emotion. He was dealing with something else, but you couldn’t tell what. “If Karen is right, if Tyreese and Sasha are right, these people, they… they should come back with us.”

Silence followed his words, and you glanced at Daryl. Your eyes met, and you held each other’s gaze for a moment before you turned away.

“Bring them back?” Michonne asked.

Rick nodded almost hesitantly. “This whole thing, this isn’t their fault. This was one man. And the people that tried to kill our people are dead. The people here, now, they don’t know how to protect themselves. We’ll be leaving them to die.”

“I don’ know, man,” Daryl said.

“They’d contribute? Help clean out cell blocks, help hunt?” You asked the group. “Maybe they can learn from us. We all started somewhere. Daryl and I nearly killed each other when we first met. We have to… it can’t be like this. The world can’t be like this. I’m with you, Rick.” You said.

As your words sunk in, Rick nodded and looked between Michonne and Daryl. Slowly they nodded too. “Let’s have Karen and Tyreese get them all together. They don’t have to come. But they’ll have the option. Give them an hour to pack up their shit.”

“We should raid the armory and kitchen,” You said, “If people decide to come, we’ll need the supplies. And the way I’m looking at it, we won.”

***

Dawn was just beginning to break; the clouds had started to glow purple and pink, and the sun was almost ready to come up for the day. It had been a long night for Daryl and his group. He had spent the past two hours with you, cleaning out Woodbury’s infirmary, kitchen, and armory. The pickup truck was absolutely filled to the brim. The front seat was used for storage and would only fit one person.

You and Daryl had discussed plans on sending a group out later on, to finish picking Woodbury clean. It was nearly a gold mine. He just needed to talk to Rick about the plan--but he knew Rick would agree. He couldn’t afford not to.

By the time he closed the tailgate to the truck, nearly everyone from Woodbury was gathered up. Everyone but one family was coming. He had given them more than enough food, weapons, and gas to last them a while. He noticed how quiet you were during the transaction.

He also noticed how tired you were. The last day was nonstop for all of you; he was just as exhausted. He wanted to go home and sleep, though he knew that wasn’t likely.

Daryl was standing with you by the truck when Rick approached, handing you the keys to the truck. “I’ll drive the bus back with Michonne. I don’t think anyone will cause any problems but better safe than sorry. (Y/N), you got the truck, and Daryl will lead.”

“I wanna send some groups out after everything is settled,” Daryl said, “We packed as much as we could, but there’s still more. We should come back.”

“We will,” Rick nodded. “We’ll do it smart, but we will. (Y/N), can I talk to you real quick?”

Daryl watched as the two of you walked a few feet away and then turned back to the bus, where Michonne was waiting as well. Everything was settled, and it was time to bring everyone home.

#daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead #daryl dixon x reader

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is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not · 10 days

Text

Royal Black Watch Regiment TO&E (3153):

Trinary 1:

1a. Regimental Command Supernova- "Claymore"

1x HGN-732bM (Regimental Command Mech; COMGEN Melissa Hazen)

1x AS7-K3T (Nova Captain MAJ Theodora Marten-Steiner)

1x AWS-9Q-K (Regimental Senior Enlisted WO Karrie DeLacey; also Unit Chief Technician)

1x OC-1Xb (Quick Reaction Fire Support)

1x CP-10-HQb (Forward Base Defense & Headquarters Transport)

1x RPT-3Xb (Quick Reaction Reconnaissance Asset; attached from Supernova 1 "Dirk")

1x Infantry Star (Armored; Special TO&E; 2/5ths Elemental BW, 3/5ths Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry w/ Tornado G17 PA(L); Elite/Reliable)

1b. Supernova 1 - "Dirk"

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb (currently attached to Command Nova)

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

1c. Supernova 2 - "Broadsword"

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

Trinary 2:

2a. Command Supernova - “Baselard”

1x HGN-732Ic

3x HGN-732Ib

1x OC-1Xb (Quick Reaction Fire Support)

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry w/ Tornado G17 PA(L); Elite/Reliable)

2b. Supernova 1 - “Cutlass”

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb (currently attached to Command Nova)

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

2c. Supernova 2 - “Falchion”

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

Trinary 3:

3a. Command Supernova - “Longsword”

1x HGN-732Ic

3x HGN-732Ib

1x OC-1Xb (Quick Reaction Fire Support)

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry w/ Tornado G17 PA(L); Elite/Reliable)

3b. Supernova 1 - “Sabre”

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb (currently attached to Command Nova)

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

3c. Supernova 2 - “Gladius”

4x HGN-732Ib

1x RPT-3Xb

2x Infantry Star (Armored; Elemental III; Elite/Fanatical)

1x Infantry Star (Unarmored; SLDF Infantry with Tornado PA(L)

Support Sections:

4. Regimental Engineering/MechTechBattalion – “Brunel” (not drop capable)

5x BattleMech Recovery Vehicle

15x Heavy BattleMech Recovery Vehicle

12x Savior Repair Vehicle

12x Paramour Repair Vehicle

40x J-37 Ordnance Transports

10x Pit Bull Medium Trucks

40x Coolant Trucks

5x Hoplite HMMWV

5. Regimental Headquarters Support Battalion - “Chieftain” (not drop capable)

3x Gossamer Drones + 3x Sasayaku Control Transports (Strategic Recon Section)

3x Beagle Hover Scouts (Beagle TAG variant; Battlefield Awareness Section)

1x Praetorian Mobile Strategic HQ

8x Mobile Point Defense System

7x Burro Heavy Support Trucks (1x Water Tanker, 3x Fuel Tanker, 3x Cargo)

6x GESV Mobile Field Kitchen + Field Kitchen Trailer

15x Pit Bull Medium Trucks

3x Hoplite HMMWV

6. Regimental Artillery Battalion - “Caber” (not drop capable)

9x Mobile Long Tom (LT-MOB-95 variant)

1x Pit Bull Medium Truck

3x Burro Heavy Support Trucks (2x Cargo, 1x Fuel Tanker)

9x J-37 Ordnance Transports

1x Tribune Tactical Mobile HQ

4x Hoplite HMWVV

7. Regimental Medical Company - “Fleming” (not drop capable):

10x GESV (MASH configuration) + GESV Medical Trailer

5x Soar Medical VTOL (Militarized variant)

4x Burro Heavy Support Trucks (x2 Fuel Tankers; x2 Cargo)

#battletech #mechwarrior #story event #tactical information #black watch

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matrim-cauthons-hat · 1 month

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every now and then i get to thinking "you kno, battlemechs arent really that heavy all things considered" because like the m1 abrahms is nearly 67 tons. thats just a little lighter than the upper end of the heavy mech range. but then i also remember an anecdote i think i heard from Bovington tank museum or something about how the abrahms can barely be towed by the recovery vehicles designed specifically to tow it because its become so damn heavy and sometimes need two... so maybe 67 tons IS on the heavy side

#battletech #im probs misremembering what youchube channel i heard it on #my stuff

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ageless-aislynn · 3 months

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Title: “15 Minutes” (8/?) Author: @ageless-aislynn Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: You've got work to do. John worries. Things get a little more intense. Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating: T (PG13) Length: 1,945 (this chapter, 19,693 total so far) Spoilers/warnings: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N: Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. Halo season 2 has finally arrived! However, this fic continues to zip along in the AU Party Warthog, so, while we began with season 1 way back when (and you'll see a few more things from s1 along the way 😉), we'll not be venturing into s2 territory at all. Unless s2 is going to take some verrrrry interesting twists, lol! Chapter 9 is still in progress by hand but I hope to have it ready soon. 🤞😣🤞The next chapter will also see us entering into some hurt/comfort for a bit but I tend to lean heavier on the comfort, in case you're worried. Or, you know, would be disappointed. 😉 If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger @mysardencut @laurenstacy610 @sporadicbelievernightmare @ultrablackwidower @bxmxtx @jellotherelol

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

The Troop Transport Warthog hit a particularly rough patch and you held on for all you were worth to keep from being ejected.

"Sarge," Private Taylor yelled. "Where are we?"

"That's need to know and none of you need to know, marine," Sarge shouted back from the passenger seat. "Just keep your head down, do your job, and you'll be home 15 minutes before your mama has breakfast on the table."

You couldn't particularly tell if it were dusk, dawn or high noon, the air was so heavy with the greasy remains of mortar rounds. In the distance, a nondescript cityscape occasionally flared with either continuing pockets of active combat or just the remnants of the devastation that had passed through.

Wherever you were, it felt like you were barreling at top speed through a graveyard of vehicles: Warthogs, Mongeese and even the odd Scorpion, some overturned, blackened and smoldering, others weirdly intact as if their drivers had merely stepped away for a moment.

This was a salvage and recovery mission, tasking your unit with marking vehicles as repairable, recyclable or a total loss to be abandoned.

The next hour or so, that had been your focus, moving from Warthogs and the occasional Mongoose, conducting a quick evaluation, then using your spray gun to mark a green circle on the hood to send back to Reach for repair, a white slash to send it to be stripped for usable parts or a red X to abandon, not worth salvaging.

You marked a Mongoose with a red X, though the gun sputtered and you had to give it a few whacks before it sprayed properly, then you moved on.

Next up was a Warthog that seemed in decent condition from the outside, short of the rear antenna twisted until it resembled a curly tail. But the electronics were fried and the entire undercarriage looked like it had plowed over a series of flaming spikes, all major parts gouged out and burned. There might have been a few nuts and bolts reclaimable but since you'd just recently been writing up requisition for needed parts, you judged that it was more effort than it was worth.

You made the call to abandon it but as you tried to spray the red X across the hood, nothing emerged, even after shaking the sprayer and giving it a few more hits with the heel of your palm. With a slightly frustrated noise -- who was checking to make sure that the sprayers were in working order before they were sent out? -- you headed to get a replacement. Along the way, you caught a private going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, see that 'hog there? Would you red X it for me? Thanks."

"Um, sure," the blond man said and headed where you gestured.

You were still looking for somebody who had a spare sprayer when Sarge drove up in the Troop Transport again.

"Wrap it up, it's about to get hot," he shouted.

You quickly joined the rush back to board the Pelican and scrambled into a seat just as it lifted off. A split-second after you'd clicked the restraint down, the Pelican rolled to one side, shuddering from an impact.

Alarms began blaring, mixed in with the pilot calling out coordinates, and you automatically tried to look forward, as if you'd somehow be able to spot what was shooting at you. All you could really see was the anxious faces of the other marines around you. You spared a couple of breaths to be glad that neither Maria or Jamie had been called in for this.

The Pelican took a second, more glancing blow and the resulting shudder rattled your teeth.

"Covvies?" somebody asked over the engine whine and the private across from you shrugged.

"Who else?" she said. "But that felt like surface-to-air to me. What about you?"

She met your eyes and it was your turn to shrug. "I'm not sure. Never been hit by any sort of missile before."

"Oh well, congratulations on your first missile salvo," she returned with a crooked grin.

The Pelican rolled once more, this time in an evasive maneuver, then thankfully smoothed out and made its escape without further incident.

Your unit was taken to the covert off-world depot known colloquially as The Pit, where everything that had been marked for repair or recycle would be delivered for further sorting. In the center of the large warehouse area was a compactor pit for all of the scrap to be sent into. Several cranes were already busy moving the smaller vehicles like Warthogs and Mongeese into berths to be stripped down while the still operational vehicles were lining up to be loaded onto heavy transport carriers to be returned to base.

You finished stripping your second Warthog for salvageable parts and signaled the nearest lift operator. The clawlike crane clamped onto the 'hog's shell, picking it up and carrying it towards the compactor while you moved on to a Mongoose with a crumpled left rear wheel.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a Warthog with a particularly distinctive twisted rear antenna being dropped off into the line to be loaded up and returned to FLEETCOM.

Frowning, you wove your way through the other mechanics, avoiding the occasional flying part, and found a green circle sprayed onto the hood.

Shit, the private must've heard me wrong when I told him to red X it. It seemed like an odd mistake to make but things had been hectic.

You grabbed a sprayer and neutralized the green and sprayed over it with a red X, then went to the nearest crane operator.

"You see that 'hog with the X on it? Drop it in the line for the compactor, please."

"Got it," the woman said and you waited until she'd picked it up and deposited it appropriately before you returned to work.

You were elbows into a Gauss 'hog's engine bay when you heard your rank and name called. Looking up, your heart gave a little skip: John in full helmeted Mjolnir strode your way with thundering steps you could hear even over the rest of the cacophony.

"With me," he said tersely, passing by and disappearing through a doorway at the back of the warehouse.

You had to hustle to catch up and he had already stopped by the time you joined him in the otherwise empty hallway. He turned, removing his helmet with a slight pneumatic hiss.

"Are you okay?" you both said at the same time.

The angle of the hallway meant you were shielded from most of the work floor. He set his helmet down and very carefully took your hands in his gloved ones.

"Insurgents took the field," he said, looking you over from head to toe. "Did you see combat? Intel was unclear."

"No, we got out but the Pelican took a few shots. Somebody said it felt like surface-to-air but I didn't remember Covenant using anything like that. It was insurgents, then?"

He nodded distractedly, glancing away to mutter, "I'll be right there." Then he looked back to you. "I have to go. Your unit's being sent back to Reach but if they divert you into combat..."

He trailed off, clearly realizing there was no way to finish that sentence the way he wanted.

"Tell them, nah, I'd rather not, thanks?" Your mouth twitched and you squeezed his fingers.

He gave a resigned chuckle. "Yeah, try that, please."

"You're the one who'll be much more in the thick of it," you pointed out. "You be careful, okay?"

"Always try," he said, bringing your hands up to press a kiss to the back of both.

Kai leaned around the door, her visor glinting green. "Chief, sorry but we've got to go."

"Copy that." He released you with clear reluctance and picked up his helmet. "Stay safe. I'll see you soon."

He vanished through the doorway and you took a breath, exhaling slowly. John suddenly appeared right in front of you again, leaning down to cup your face in one hand.

You were just about to ask if something was wrong when he kissed you.

For a moment, for forever, the universe shrank to just the two of you, his mouth on yours, a little frantic at first, then slowing, steadying out.

You felt like you were hovering off the ground and then realized you were; he'd picked you up at some point, pressing you gently to his chest plate. Your hand dropped to the 117 etched near his heart and it was gritty with sand and dirt. You were both grimy and sooty but it didn't matter. It couldn't have been more perfect if you were in a flowing ballgown and him in a tux, slowly spinning together on a glittering palace floor.

He set you back onto your feet but you only parted a breath away from each other.

"I... I'll get better with practice," he mumbled.

You smiled at him, feeling wobbly, lightheaded and more grounded than you'd ever been before, all at the same time. "John, if you were any better at that, I'd have to show you how fast I can get a Spartan out of their Mjolnir with my bare hands."

He was near enough to see his pupils dilate and that was incredibly gratifying. "I'll hold you to that," he said, his voice dropping an entire octave, making your toes literally curl inside your boots.

Then he put his helmet back on and left. You took a moment to compose yourself, then exited as well. There was no sign of Silver Team. No doubt, the Pelican waiting for him had taken off the second he'd boarded.

Cutting through the busy deck, you looked for any vehicle marked with a white stripe, still waiting to be stripped. On an impulse, you diverted to the line being dropped one at a time into the compactor. There was no sign of the curly tailed Warthog.

It could've already been compacted, you were thinking when you saw it going by overhead, clutched in a crane claw and heading back towards the line to return to Reach.

You didn't stop to think, you sprinted for the crane's operator booth. "Hey, put that 'hog down!"

The operator looked at you and you realized in a burst that it was the blond man you'd originally told to mark it with the red X back on the battlefield, who'd apparently designated it instead to come back to The Pit.

No, to go back to FLEETCOM.

Recognition went across his face at the same moment and he bolted from the booth. The lift automatically stopped, the Warthog swaying over the crowded deck.

You knew. You just knew.

You ran as fast as you could and slammed the alarm on the wall. "Bomb!" you bellowed over the shrill klaxon. "Bomb! Clear out!"

Jumping into the operator booth and grabbing the controls, you quickly scanned the area as marines scattered everywhere. There was only one place you could think to go.

You swung the arm around, guiding the curly tailed 'hog firmly clasped in its grip towards the compactor pit. It felt like it was taking a year to get there but you couldn't release the controls or the safety would bring it once more to a stop. Once the Warthog was finally in position, you opened the grip.

What if I'm wrong? you thought as it began to fall. I'll feel like such a fool if--

There was a saying that if you were close enough to an explosion, you would never actually hear it.

It was true.

end note:

If you want to, you know, imagine that Sarge's full name is, sayyyyyy, Avery Johnson, well then, who am I to tell you that you're right or wrong? 😇

If you don't know the Troop Transport Warthogs, here's one in action from Halo: Reach. It's on the level "ONI: Sword Base" and is scripted to be destroyed but there's a way to save it and the marines in it and take it with you for a great deal of the rest of the level! I love saving the Troop 'hog, even if it always still looks like it's on fire. Nah, it's fiiiiiine, no worries! 😎👍😂😉

#halo #halo the series #halo paramount+#master chief x reader #x reader #john-117 x reader #fic: 15 minutes #series: how to date a spartan without even trying #ageless aislynn #aislynn's fics #aislynn's fic

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oldschoolfrp · 1 year

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A heavy recovery vehicle attached to Hell’s Hammers, an elite armor unit of the Empire (Joe Johnston concept art for what became the AT-AT in The Empire Strikes Back, from the Imperial Sourcebook for Star Wars the Roleplaying Game by Greg Gordon, West End Games, 1989) WEG’s writers used previously unseen art from the files of Lucasfilm, Ltd, as the basis of many new additions to the Star Wars expanded universe. Hell’s Hammers are mentioned again in Imperial Entanglements (1996) in a scenario for Star Wars Miniatures Battles featuring a recovery crew on foot attempting to retrieve an immobilized repulsortank.

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yandere-sins · 2 years

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Aaaand it’s a wrap guys!!! Thank you all for sticking around for Sintember and giving the prompts lots of love! And thank you @sintember for creating a wonderful, creative prompt list which had amazing gems on it! This blog is going back to regular content now but it was a delight to participate in this challenge ♥

Fandom: Original Content Pairings: Yandere x GN!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Gagging, Cuffing with chains, Abuse, Mistreatment, Unwanted affection/touches, Punishments, Heavy Trauma, Suicide mention, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrom

Prompt: @sintember Free Day Friday: True Freedom - Write anything you want! Anything.

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

It had been years now.

When it happened, it was the worst thing anyone could imagine. Chained and gagged, you spent your miserable days in a dark basement, only the owner of the house you were kept in able to turn the light on. Every day when he returned home, he’d bring you upstairs to bathe, eat, and watch television together. Even at night, he kept you by his side, cuddled you, and whispered your name in his sleep reverently. The chains remained. Always.

But where this was your everyday life, there were days when things would not go so peacefully. He’d hit you and punish you, make you beg for your life with a knife pressed to your throat. You’d be forced to your knees, fulfilling his fantasy, and call him disgusting nicknames that still made bile rise into your mouth. He was as moody as he was sweet and caring. Kind even. Always ordering the food you liked and letting you have the softer pillow to sleep on. But in the morning, he’d always drag you back down into the basement to stay there alone.

It was a love of convenience, and you were only convenient when he was home and had you all to himself. You learned more about your captor the longer it went on, but those memories were fading. Not so much the dark, angry glares he had after angering him or the smothering confessions of love while he touched you against your will. Those still haunted your nightmares and woke you up covered in sweat.

But it was all in the past now.

Eventually, someone found you. It had been almost unreal to see another face again after so long, a maintenance man having stopped by unannounced and finding you crying and clearly in distress. It had been an absolute coincidence; had your captor known, he probably would have arranged it in a way you wouldn’t have been found. To this day, you wrote ‘Thank you!’ cards every Christmas to the guy that freed you.

You couldn’t even be a witness in court, but it wasn’t necessary. Together with your therapist and your finally reunited family, you watched the court session take place, clutching their hands as if your dear life depended on it. Him being sentenced for his crime, strangely enough, didn’t make you burst out in tears then and there. But the moment you stepped away from the TV, your whole body collapsed, the relief unleashing the bottled-up emotions.

It took a long time to see the fruits of your recovery. You couldn’t leave your home, seeing your captor in every man that passed by. Panic attacks were more common to you than hugs with your family members. As you recovered from even the simplest things, your life was still on hold—just like for the year and half you were kidnapped. Eating, bathing, sleeping—you had to relearn everything. Even with your therapist’s help, those were constant reminders of him. The worst was the rattling of chains, be it from a vehicle or keys. You’d instantly cower in a corner, wheezing.

No, it wasn’t easy to relearn true normality. You wanted to, desperately, but it was met with more shame than peace. When you passed a man with his aftershave on your rare walks, you still froze up and remembered when you’d apply it on him. He’d give you the bottle, trusting you with his eyes closed and looking so normal. As if you were meant to help each other like this. And even though you flinched when you touched yourself, caressing a spot he liked to grab or kiss, you always came face to face with the memory of him whispering your name into your ear. Telling you, you were his one and only. That he loved you to the moon and back. That you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

It was inexplicable how you could still remember these moments almost fondly, just because those were the times he treated you as equal, loved, and gentle. With no fear connected to it. But even when your therapist told you it was typical to feel this way, all you could feel was shame. Shame that after all he did, you still put him on a pedestal like that. As if he hadn’t been horrifying enough. As if his love hadn’t been a sick excuse for the abuse he put you through.

But somehow, you got through it all. You started to heal, slowly. There were times you were still overwhelmed, but even more, you were happy again and made more memories. You even flirted once! But nothing came of it since you decided you weren’t ready for that amount of trust and vulnerability again. You were still too scared to be used and mistreated; it was better to focus on yourself for the time being.

Who knew if things would have ever really changed. Even with the small accomplishments, the moving forward, you weren’t sure if you could ever recover from the trauma. Perhaps you had to accept that your freedom would always be a little screwed now. Better than that stinky basement, though. You even got to go to your favorite coffee shop again, all by yourself, and enjoy their seasonal assortment. Things were getting better, very, very slowly.

But as fate would have it, your life wasn’t supposed to get better.

Ever.

While waiting for your coffee, you looked at your phone, realizing you had missed calls and texts asking where you were. It was strange for your family to make a fuss, considering it had been you who fussed about most things. It made you smile just a little as you opened the messenger, replying to your sister.

>> You have to come home asap!

<< Why? What’s wrong?

>> He was released from prison today!

You were about to reply to ask what she meant, your brain not working fast enough when the barista called out your name, and you looked up, reaching for the coffee she held out. Another hand brushed yours aside, taking it from her with a chipper, “Thank you!” while the second hand looped around yours, squeezing it tightly.

The smell of familiar aftershave wafted into your nose, and you froze, just like you had for the last couple of times you smelled it. Your vision began to shake as you forced yourself to look at the man standing next to you, his face thrown in shadows by the baseball cap he was wearing, but his features still looked the same. He seemed too healthy to be out of prison, yet, more muscular than you remembered him. Stronger. More capable.

He turned to you, a smile so full of joy it must have hurt, curling on his lips and his eyes softening as he looked at you. He brought up your intertwined hands, kissing yours longingly. “I missed you,” he mumbled against your knuckles, smothering your hand in more kisses. “I missed you so much it made me want to kill myself.”

With a sigh, he lowered your hands again, holding out your coffee to you, your body accepting his gift just like it had all these years before. “Only the thought of seeing you again kept me alive, and now, finally…”

Tugging softly on your hand, you made an instinctive step forward. Suddenly you weren’t the person on the road to recovery anymore. Suddenly you were the same person he kidnapped, chained, and trained to follow his every step, every move, and every wish. Your whole therapy seemed to collapse into itself as you felt no inch stronger, wiser, or able to resist than before.

“Let’s go home, okay?” he said. Nonchalantly, unbothered of the past between you. The years that had passed or the changes that happened.

Just like that, all your freedom vanished before your eyes, your voice silenced with a kiss as you wanted to scream.

And you wondered how long it would take this time for everything to repeat itself.

#Sintember 2022 #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW #OW

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workersolidarity · 3 months

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[ 🎤 An audio recording from the Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) which captured the last moments of Hind Rajab, a 7 year-old girl who's family was slaughtered from IOF munitions fire on their civilian vehicle. Hind, trapped in the vehicle, called for emergency assistance and remained on the phone for some time before ambulance crews arrived. The ambulance crew and Hind have since disappeared and their fates remain unknown at this time.]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚨

💥DAY 117: OVER 100 KILLED OVER LAST DAY AS ISRAELI OCCUPATION PUMMELS GAZA WITH MISSILES, DRONES AND ARTILLERY FIRE💥

Upwards of 114 Palestinians were killed and scores wounded over the previous 24-hours as Israel's war of genocide continued for the 117th day.

In Khan Yunis City, Israeli occupation warplanes, artillery, drones and helicopter fire all concentrated on the center and western sections of the city, killing at least six and wounding several others.

The Israeli Occupation Forces (IOF) also targeted a residential home in the al-Daraj neighborhood of Gaza City using missiles, causing dozens of casualties.

Occupation artillery shelling, airstrikes and gunfire launched from Israeli vehicles and jets also concentrated on the northwestern sections of Gaza City, resulting in a number of dead and wounded.

Israeli aircraft also bombarded various areas of Gaza City, making recovery of the dead and evacuations of the wounded next to impossible as bodies litter the streets of the city.

Occupation artillery fire heavily concentrated on the al-Awda Hospital located in the Tal al-Zaatar neighborhood of Jabalia, in the north of Gaza, while Israeli munitions continuously target the vicinity of the Al-Dawa Mosque to the north of the Nuseirat Refugee Camp in the central Gaza Strip.

At the same time, the Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) is reporting the death of a member of PRCS's Security team after occupation forces fired on the team member while he stood at the rear entrance to the hospital complex.

Simultaneously, occupation warplanes dropped bombs around the complex while Israeli soldiers fired small caliber assault rifles and launched several smoke grenades towards the hospital.

Meanwhile, in the central areas of the Gaza Strip, Israeli artillery shelling concentrated on the vicinity of the Nasser Hospital in Khan Yunis, with local medical sources and ambulance crews describing a situation where they are unable to move to evacuate the dead and wounded due to the heavy gunfire and shelling.

Occupation artillery shelling and airstrikes also target the Austrian neighborhood of Khan Yunis, while at the same time, Israeli soldiers detonated yet another entire residential neighborhood in the central Khan Yunis area.

Israeli military bulldozers were also brought into Gaza and began to raze the entirety of al-Shuhada'a street in the al-Rimal neighborhood, to the west of Gaza City, with occupation tanks and armored vehicles protecting the bulldozers from Resistance rockets and gunfire.

Additionally, five Palestinian civilians were killed and many others wounded as a result of the IOF bombing and shelling of Khan Yunis City, while four others were killed and several others wounded after occupation aircraft bombarded Hamad Town, north of Khan Yunis.

In another horrific crime of the Israeli entity, the Palestinian Prisoner's Society (PPS) is reporting the open execution of 30 Palestinians from Beit Lahia, in the northern Gaza Strip, after the corpses of the assassinated residents were found inside a school that had previously been besieged by the IOF. According to the report, occupation soldiers bound and blindfolded the 30 Palestinians after stripping them naked and then executed them.

Over the previous 24-hours, the Israeli occupation army has committed a total of 16 massacres, resulting in the deaths of no less than 150 Palestinians, with more than 313 civilians wounded due to occupation artillery, gunfire and airstrikes.

Although the death toll count remains low relative to the reality on the ground in Gaza, the official count of dead has risen to, and is in excess of, 26'900, with an additional 65'949 wounded as a result of Israel's ongoing genocide.

#source1

#source2

#source3

#source4

#source5

#source6

#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

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parklandtowing · 1 year

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Best Flatbed Towing Edmonton

Parkland Towing and Recovery is one of the most trusted companies for Flatbed Towing Edmonton. We provide a complete range of Best Flatbed Towing Services in Edmonton to help you get back on the road as quickly as possible.

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nasa · 2 years

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Comin’ in Hot: Seven Things to Know About our New Heat Shield

What goes up, must come down, and from space, without burning up in an atmosphere. That’s why we’re pumped for the Low-Earth Orbit Flight Test of an Inflatable Decelerator, or LOFTID. Launching on Nov. 1, 2022, with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s (NOAA) Joint Polar Orbiting Satellite System-2 (JPSS-2) mission, this technology demonstration marks the next step in advancing an innovative heat shield design that could one day be used to land heavy payloads – including humans – on Mars!

Here are seven things to know about this innovative re-entry system:

1. LOFTID is the first-ever in-orbit test of this technology.

Inflatable heat shields, called Hypersonic Inflatable Aerodynamic Decelerators (HIADs), have been in the works for more than a decade. In 2012, the third of the Inflatable Re-entry Vehicle Experiments (IRVE) launched on a suborbital sounding rocket from the Wallops Flight Facility, demonstrating a 3-meter (10-foot) diameter inflatable heat shield.

But the LOFTID re-entry vehicle, at 19.7 feet (6 meters) in diameter, will be the largest blunt body aeroshell to ever go through atmospheric entry. Designed to withstand temperatures as high as 2900°F (1600°C), this first-ever in-orbit test of this technology will prove if it can successfully slow down large payloads – such as crewed spacecraft, robotic explorers, and rocket components – enabling them to survive the heat of re-entry at planetary destinations with an atmosphere.

youtube

2. You can find out how this tech works in real-time.

LOFTID is unique in that all operations will happen within a few hours of launch. After the JPSS-2 satellite safely reaches orbit, the LOFTID vehicle will separate from the upper stage of the Atlas V rocket and begin re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere. If all goes as planned, the technology will help the vehicle decelerate from hypersonic (more than 25 times faster than the speed of sound) down to subsonic flight, less than 609 miles per hour for a safe splash down and recovery from the Pacific Ocean.

While in flight, engineers at NASA’s Langley Research Center will receive location data every 20 seconds and onboard sensors and cameras will record more comprehensive data about the technology’s performance. You can get a behind-the-scenes look at Langley’s Flight Mission Support Center where the LOFTID project team will be monitoring the flight test at NASA.gov/live following the launch.

3. A lemon-sized capsule ejected into the Pacific Ocean will hold key flight data.

The LOFTID re-entry vehicle will record both sensor and camera data during its flight. The data will include the temperatures and pressures experienced by the heat shield and will illustrate how well the technology performed during the demonstration.

Although the goal is to retrieve the LOFTID re-entry vehicle after it splashes down in the Pacific Ocean, the team wanted a back-up option just in case they can’t recover it. Enter the tiny yellow package called an ejectable data module (EDM) which will also record flight data. The EDM will be released from the spacecraft at an altitude of about 50,000 feet. It will free fall into the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Hawaii and should land within 10 miles of the spacecraft’s splash down location. A recovery team, that has practiced hide-and-seek of the EDM on land and sea, will use GPS to search an approximately 900-mile area of the Pacific Ocean to find their “lemon.”

4. This heat shield packs a punch.

Although NASA has historically relied on rigid aeroshells, parachutes, and retro-propulsion (rockets) to decelerate people, vehicles, and hardware during entry, descent, and landing operations, a benefit of inflatable heat shields is that they take up less space in a rocket, allowing more room for other hardware or payloads. LOFTID’s aeroshell has been folded and tightly packed down to 4 by 1.5 feet for launch and stacked in the United Launch Alliance (ULA) Atlas V rocket payload fairing.

5. LOFTID is dedicated in honor of one of its innovators.

LOFTID was developed as a partnership with ULA and is dedicated to the memory of Bernard Kutter, ULA manager of advanced programs, who passed away in August 2020. Kutter was instrumental in advancing the inflatable heat shield design and developing the plan to test the system on an Atlas V rocket. He was an advocate for both space technology and expanding access to space. Kutter’s NASA and ULA counterparts agree that LOFTID is unlikely to have made it to space without his vision and passion.

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6. LOFTID is made of tough stuff.

Synthetic fibers make up the inflatable structure, braided into tubes that are, by weight, 10 times stronger than steel. The tubes are coiled so that they form the shape of a blunt cone when inflated. The thermal protection system that covers the inflatable structure can survive searing entry temperatures up to 2,900 degrees Fahrenheit. Researchers used the same heat-shielding materials to create a fire shelter prototype for firefighters battling forest fires.

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7. You can make your own LOFTID Halloween costume!

Still looking for an out-of-this world Halloween costume? With a few commonly found materials, like orange pool noodles and duct tape, you can create your own LOFTID costume. However, we make no promises of protecting or slowing you down from becoming the life of the party.

Follow @NASA_Technology for the latest updates on LOFTID. Don’t miss our live coverage leading up to launch from the Vandenberg Space Force Base in California. The NASA Edge JPSS-2 Tower Rollback Show airs live on NASA TV and YouTube on Tuesday, Nov. 1 at 12 a.m. EDT, and NASA TV live launch coverage will begin at 4:45 a.m. EDT.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

#LOFTID #NOAA #NASA #spaceblr #space technology #tech #Youtube #technology

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fafnir19 · 5 months

Text

The Angel Makers' Heir - Part III

Some days later, as I pushed open the heavy iron gates of the retirement home, an overwhelming sense of unease settled in my stomach. The responsibility of being able to decide life and death hung over me like a dark cloud. I didn't even know if it was real or just a nightmarish illusion. My student job here at the retirement home mainly involved assisting the staff with various tasks, including caring for the residents.

Mrs. Jessen, a 97-year-old lady, had always captured my attention. Despite her good health, she seemed to have lost all joy in living. On countless occasions, she confided in me, expressing her desire for the end, insisting that the higher power had forsaken her. After attending to Mrs. Jessen, I began my walk back home as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the peaceful streets. Suddenly, the tranquility shattered as screeching tires filled the air. With a jolt, I ran toward the source of the commotion. A horrific car accident had unfolded before my eyes. In one vehicle, a child remained relatively unharmed, but the mother's condition looked dire. As panic tightened its grip on my chest, a surreal sight met my eyes. The three-legged stallion stood near the injured mother. The air hummed with a strange energy, and without thinking, I appealed to the equine figure. "Bring Mrs. Jessen and spare this woman," I pleaded, my voice trembling with uncertainty. The ache in my chest didn't leave, even as the paramedics arrived and swiftly whisked the injured mother away. I couldn't shake the feeling that the stallion's presence had significance beyond my understanding. The following day at the retirement home, the news spread like wildfire. Mrs. Jessen had peacefully passed in her sleep.

Despite the melancholy that gripped me, a flicker of hope ignited within my heart as I heard the miraculous recovery of the mother from the car accident. The doctors deemed it an unexplainable phenomenon. Weeks passed, and as I walked through the bustling university campus, I couldn't shake the sense that the events at the retirement home and the accident had irrevocably altered my perception of life and death. The sun illuminated the path ahead, casting an amber glow over the vibrant foliage. My thoughts were interrupted by a commotion in the dining hall, drawing my attention to a student attempting to cheat off my paper during an exam. Professor Drather, the strict invigilator, caught him in the act, resulting in the student's failure. Outrageously, the student then accused me of collusion, hoping to drag me down with him. Fueled by indignation, I confronted the professor the next day, only to learn that he was at home nursing a mild cold. Exasperated, I vented my frustrations to my peers in the cafeteria, lamenting the injustice. A fellow student remarked, "If the professor is sick now, it's probably karma." I laughed hollowly, "Yes, may Hel drag him from his sickbed." The next day brought shocking news. Professor Drather had passed away, choking on a piece of ham. The realization struck me forcefully, sending a shiver down my spine. Dread coiled in the pit of my stomach, but beneath the fear, a newfound awareness burgeoned—a stark realization of the potential in the mysterious forces at play. And I thought:" Maybe I could make good use of my newfound super power...."

My dear Readers, what do you think? Who should Luci send to the realm of Hel and who should he protect from being taken by the three-legged stallion?

#mystery #Angel Makers' Heir #questions

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twinkleallnight · 1 year

Text

False Truth-2

Book: TRR AU

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Drake x Olivia, Liam x Riley .

Word count:3075

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

Warning: mental health, mention of death.

Catch up here for chapter 1

A/N: Thanks a ton @lizzybeth1986 for holding my hand and bringing this to reality. This is a mini series of 6 chapters loosely weaved around themes for the days of drake-walker-appreciation week.

Prompt: Day2: Throwback @drake-walker-appreciation week

3 months ago……

Sirens blared through the roads as one ambulance after another zipped through the Capitol city of Cordonia. Olivia was frantically driving her SUV, accelerating at a deadly speed towards the ruckus in the city. She wanted to reach the hospital, right now! The usually composed Duchess could not digest the blow of the phone call that she received an hour ago.

'The Crown Prince's convoy has been attacked while heading to the palace from the airport. The prince and his chief of guards were reported injured. They have been rushed to the hospital. Conditions currently unstable.'

She had almost dropped her phone but her training had kicked in and she had rushed to the garage without waiting for any assistance.

After driving for almost an hour, she hit the brakes, her vehicle screeching to a halt in the parking lot of the City hospital.

She dashed to the ER but froze at the chaos she witnessed. There were shrieks and shrills, screams and shouts, wounded and attendings, cries and tears, pain and panic, all together overwhelming her senses.

She tried to peer through the plethora of people in search of her husband, her friend….. maybe even a receptionist who could guide her.

She caught hold of the nearest person in the hospital uniform.

"Excuse me, I am looking for my husband, Drake Walker."

The person filled her in quickly, "Ma'am, there was an attack on a whole convoy, we have thirteen injured and two deaths. I would suggest you to please connect with the front desk over there."

She felt a chill run down her spine. 'Two deaths' her mind reverberated the words. With heavy steps, she crossed the distance to reach the desk. Her lips parted but her voice was choked. 'Two deaths?' she was questioning herself. Was she prepared for the worst? NO.NEVER! Her thoughts screamed back at her.

She cleared her throat loudly enough to crush down her fears and to gain attention. She asked the relevant details. Thankfully, this time she was guided well till the entrance gates of ICU where Liam and Drake were being treated.

Constantine and Regina were already seated there. They were holding each other's hands in silent prayers, waiting to receive the news of the well being of their son. Olivia greeted them both with a downcast face and stood in a corner. They gave her a meek smile.

Moments passed to make minutes and minutes passed into hours. Nothing moved, except for the shuffling of security around the royals. Savannah slipped in next to her sometime in between. But there was no effort to break the silence. Worried eyes met anxious ones, then shied away to hide their fear.

After what seemed like ages, the glass doors slid open. The doctors stepped in the waiting area to let everyone know that things were under control. But, it was going to be a long road to recovery.

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

Present day ……

The ivorine winged-back chair looked tempting with plush cushions. Olivia lowered herself into the softness of the upholstery. Her hands rested naturally on the arms of the chair. She let her head relax back while her long porcelain legs pointed out. She closed her eyes and stretched out with a moan.

"Feels better?"

She wasn't ready for any intrusion yet. But that was the whole reason to visit this place. Her heart was stalling the process of greeting the person in front of her, but she knew time was precious. She opened her eyes with quite an unwillingness. She adjusted herself to prop up on the chair with modesty. "How I wish!"

Her interviewer sat down on a sofa across the spacious room. She didn't understand why they needed such a big room when the conversation could have very well been conducted in a small office across a desk. Her eyes traversed the gap between them, creeping over the fine carpets, hopping across the center table, revolving around the coffee mug to land on the clipboard they held. The click of their pen demanded her attention back to the present. Now. Here.

"It didn't go well?" The stream of questions started.

She shook her head in defeat. Her eyes trained low on the rug, lest her audience could see the tears floating over her emerald orbs.

"What did he say?"

She swallowed thickly before replying, "It was as if he didn't care. As if he had not even read the letter."

"Are you sure he read the letter?"

" It was lying open on his table. No one else visited the room. So, yes, he did read it."

"But he refused to acknowledge it?"

"He stomped away as soon as I went into his room."

"Did he call you or did you go on your own?"

" He was talking to someone again."

"On the phone?"

"No, his phone was on the stand."

"So, whom do you think he was talking to?"

Olivia turned her head to the side and let out a sigh. "It was her." She swallowed over the lump in her throat. "He called out her name, again and again and laughed like a maniac. It scared the hell out of me."

"What else did u hear him say?"

"I knocked on the door only when I heard his laughter and her name in his voice. I don't know what conspired between them, before that."

"Between whom? Are you saying you believe there is a woman named Riley in Drake's life?"

Olivia leapt ahead in her chair with a snarl. "What do you expect me to say?"

"Whatever is coming to your mind. What you feel is the truth." A calm reply came.

Olivia stomped her foot on the rug and stood up. " The truth is, I am losing him. Every passing day." She said through her clenched teeth. "He is living in a delusion."

She got up and went behind the chair to create a safe barricade between them as she faced her interrogator. She wasn't sure she could control her actions. She clutched the back of the chair hard and lashed out, "The truth is that damn accident snatched away everything from me. I lost my friend, my love...my husband, my peace of mind...my happiness. Everything! All I am left to do is, struggle day and night. I have to remind the only man in my life…. Of who he is and who I am."

She paused but her chest was heaving with the burden. She was puffing out hot air to calm herself. She dug her nails deeper into the leather. "This isn't helping Dr June!"

"Olivia, we have discussed this earlier too, there is no magic wand that I can use and get you the results. It is a slow process and it needs a lot of patience, especially from your end."

Olivia hung her head in despair. She had no other option. She had tried every possible measure to get Drake out of his dreamland. Dr June , psychiatrist and behavioral psychologist was her last resort after much research. She had helped relieve Drake from the nightmares that had followed after the accident. Drake was on the recovery path, though with a memory loss. Olivia knew better, so she composed herself and came back to take her seat.

"Thank you." Dr June nodded. "Now, can you tell me any special moments that you had spent together? Just the two of you. A moment that you think may have a deep impact on Drake's mind. Some place that he may still remember is related to you?"

"Lythikan rites." Olivia blurted out without a second thought.

"What rites?" Dr June asked, confused.

"It's an old, obsolete tradition from my province, which has been illegal for half a century. The Lythikan Rite of Union. An unmarried couple traverses the icy peaks of the Alps and on the dawn of the thirtieth day, they are wed, their officiant being survival itself."

"Interesting…" Dr June encouraged her to continue.

"I was always fascinated with it. Two years ago, when we decided to get married, Drake decided to do it for me."

She spoke as if in a trance, reminiscing those moments. "The very next day that we started our journey, I was in a mess. I was frustrated to not have my lady in waiting to manage my tousled hair.

When he saw me struggling, he unfeignedly took my comb from my hands. He walked me to a small rock nearby and sat down on the rock, his legs firm on the ground. He then pulled me closer, my back flush with his chest and made me settle against him. He started releasing the knots in my hair. He gently raked his fingers through my tangles. He then delicately brushed it smooth."

Her gaze shifted to Dr June. "Do you know, I have never felt so much loved ever. He made me feel special. My world had zeroed down on him at that moment."

Olivia had a smile dancing on her lips, her eyes transfixed into a dtstant space, as she spoke again. "I had never seen him so jovial before. He was humming. Drake Walker was humming a song!... for me!...while he neatly interweaved my tresses into a braid. He then cupped my face and said, 'I like them this way, so that, I can drown into the oceans of your green eyes. Olivia Vanderwal Nevrakis, I love you more than my life. I don't want to say till death do us apart because I can never forget you even if this body fades away.'

Olivia suddenly paused looking puzzled at Dr June . "He was never supposed to forget me, doctor. What went wrong?" Her pain broke out through her words.

"We will find it out soon and correct it, Olivia." She reassured her. " Until then remember what he did for you back then. He took good care of you."

Olivia nodded in agreement, dwelling into the past. "It was cold for him, snowy, harsh, yet I had him, all the time, beside me.…..holding my hand."

She peered through the lone window to her left. Her eyes were dreamy, looking far away across the greens of the landscape outside. Her voice was soft and low. "Our hearts felt exhilarated. Our bodies shared the warmth. Our minds had an adrenaline rush."

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

"It was cold…." Drake started narrating. "Snowy, harsh but it didn't matter to me. Riley was beside me……holding my hand. She said she felt exhilarated. And the warmth she felt with me would pull her through. She felt the adrenaline rush, she said."

Dr June listened calmly. This was another session where Drake was imagining Riley, she was sure now. His description matched what Olivia had narrated earlier. Dr June had to be careful.

Getting Drake into the sessions had been difficult enough.

"Why am I here?" He would ask every time.

"You met with an accident. You have a memory loss and I have been appointed by your kin, as your doctor." She would remind him of every appointment.

"Oh!" He would look around disoriented and then just settle down for his family's sake.

Dr June knew one thing for sure, Drake would go to any extent for his family. But wasn't it the same for Olivia too? She was somehow washed away from his memory after the accident. And an unknown identity Riley had taken her place.

The question was, who was Riley? Where did she come from? No one had ever heard of her.

What Dr June had gathered from Drake was that Riley was a brunette as against his red-haired wife. She had honey brown eyes unlike Olivia's green eyes. She was dusky but Olivia was pale as a pearl. She was merely five feet as against Olivia's taller stature. Everything about Riley was in stark contrast to Olivia.

Was Drake attracted to a different person altogether and was he done with Olivia?

"I don't understand it." Olivia had repeated it umpteen times and Dr June always had tried to explain.

" No one does, Olivia. We claim a lot in medicine, still, for the most part, the brain remains an unknown frontier. The human mind is a very complex area. Neuroscientists don't yet fully understand how information is processed by the brain of a worm that has few hundred neurons, let alone by the brain of a human that has 100 billion neurons. You never know where and how it gets jumbled up into a thick heavy ball that's impossible to untangle."

Olivia stared at her in dismay. Dr June held her hand to show her support and give her some strength. "All we can do is TRY."

And so they kept trying.

"Where is Riley from?" Dr June planned to test the waters in today's session, asking Drake the details of his imaginary girlfriend.

"New york." He answered casually. His thoughts seemed very well sorted.

She further asked, "Where did you meet her?"

"At a bar." That didn't give much detail. She anyway noted his answer.

"How long have you known each other?"

"Almost a year now." This was a surprise for her. Olivia did not even know and Drake claimed to know Riley for a year now.

"Where does she stay?"

"Here, with me."

Dead end. She again hit a wall in her investigation. But today she had planned to dig deeper. So she continued, "Is she here with you today?"

"Yes, I requested her to wait outside."

"Please bring her in."

Drake got up promptly and opened the door to call her in. He came back a bit worried. "She is not there. Do you mind if I look around and get her?"

"Sure. I will see you in ten minutes."

Drake wandered around the place for sometime while,in a neighboring room, Dr June filled in Olivia with the new information that she had.

"New york?" Olivia tried to assimilate the newly received details.

Dr June nodded. "Past one year."

Olivia looked wide eyed. She started pacing the room.

Dr June asked, "Any accomplice who can throw some light on what his itinerary was like? Whom he met? Which places did he visit?"

Olivia stopped and turned to Dr June. "He never visited New York. Past two years Drake has been busy managing the role of head of security guards here in Cordonia."

"Hmm." Dr June pondered. They both stood in silence in their grappling mess. A knock on the door startled Olivia. She scurried behind the door before it opened.

Drake peeped in. "Dr June, I found Riley. She was in the gardens. I just came to inform you that we will be waiting for you in your counseling room."

"Sure, I will be there in a minute." Dr June forced a smile.

Drake left. Dr June shifted her gaze to the left of the open door. Olivia had hid herself there and now she stood there stunned. Riley was here. Again.

Dr June took a deep breath and stepped ahead. She patted Olivia's shoulder in reassurance.

"What are you going to do now?" Olivia questioned with teary eyes.

"Let's see. Maybe burst his bubble."

As much as she wanted Drake to come back to reality, she didn't want to see him hurt and in pain. "He has been through a lot, Dr June. Is there no easy way?"

"We are trying our best." She asserted and moved on.

When Dr June entered her counseling room, Drake was alone sitting in his chair. She could judge his anxiety by his continuously shaking left leg.

"Is Riley not joining us?" Dr June asked.

"She started feeling dizzy and wanted some rest, so I sent her home. Maybe you can meet her later?"

"Sure. Can I ask you something?"

"Yes, please."

"Sometime ago you mentioned your trip to the Alps. Do you remember any special moment you spent with Riley there that she really loved?"

Drake smiled,"I hunted for her, I practiced making s'mores for her. "

"Something you still do for her and she misses?"

Dr June observed the change in his demeanor. He was deep in his thoughts, his eyes had focused on the bouquet of red roses that brightened one of the dull corners of the room.

"Her hair, they were always so bunched up. She still loves it when I comb and brush them for her." He was captivated when he uttered, " Her thick red mane! I just love them.. but i love them weaved into a braid. It shows her bright green eyes so clearly, you can drown in them." He smiled shaking his head.

"You mean Olivia's hair."

"No, I said Riley's." He looked at her suddenly with a jerk.

"But you said red hair?"

"No I did not! " He protested.

"You just now said 'her thick red mane."

He stared at the doctor while she warmly looked at him and continued, "her thick red Mane, bright green eyes.

Drake gave her a confused look. She tried to explain.

" It was Olivia with you, Drake. Always. All this time. Riley is… she is someone in your subconscious mind, playing games with your conscience. She is a figment of your imagination."

Drake shook his head violently.

" No, no, no! That can't be." And he got up from his chair. "You are lying. You are all lying. You are trying to kill her. I won't let you. I will protect her. I promised, I will…" He ran out of the door.

Olivia rushed in as soon as he left. "What happened, Dr June? Why was he running away like that? "

Dr June replied, still staring at the door where he left from, a few moments ago. "He thinks Riley is in some danger. He wants to protect her, he said he promised he would." She then looked at Olivia. "Do you know whom he made promises as a chief of guard? To protect someone or to save someone?"

Olivia pondered, " As a chief of guard he was answerable only to the king." She peeped out of the door and asked, "Do you think he can be left alone in this situation? I feel I should go after him. He may need me. "

"Sure. We will meet later. Go." Dr June waved. Olivia turned around to leave, when Dr June called her. "And one more thing,Olivia…"

"What is it?" Olivia looked back.

"Somewhere deep inside, he still remembers you."

Tags: @3pawandme @alj4890 @angelasscribbles @bascmve01 @bebepac @busywoman @dcbbw @gkittylove99 @harleybeaumont @iaminlovewithtrr @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @lizzybeth1986 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @neotericthemis @mom2000aggie @phoenixrising0308 @princess-geek @riseandshinelittleblossom @sazanes @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @sillydg @tessa-liam @tinkie1973 @txemrn @walkerdrakewalker @yourmajesty09

#drake walker appreciation #drake #pixelberry #playchoices #the royal romance #trr fandom #trr #drake walker #olivia nevrakis #twinkleallnight

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