los desterrados de boba fett

los desterrados de boba fett

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Apr 18, 2024
Después de morir a manos del jefe maestros...aparecimos en un páramo gris no había nada....más que todos los que el jefe maestros había matado......me impresiona que asta jegar este aquí pero aquí estamos.....sin propósito luchamos con todo y al final fuimos derrotados atriox debió matarlo cuando pudo...ahora no dudo que el termine aquí también en un futuro y se preguntaran...como sabemos que atriox no esta muerto?....fácil.....No estaba con nosotros en ese lugar......pero ya no importa.....pues.....un ser extraño nos dio una segunda oportunidad....y aparecimos en nuestras naves...todos los que murieron ahira estaban vivos...ahira eramos denuevo una flota......y ahora....seguimos a un nuevo guerrero...se llama boba fett...es como nosostros un guerrero desechado y dejado en el olvido y su mundo si hogar......ya no podía volver......vimos en el lo que vimos en atriox......y ahora...lado a lado...luchamos juntos......y por respeto.......lo dejamos guiarnos....ahora vivimos en..un planeta desértico....y este mundo....conocerá.....a los desterrados....YO SOY ESCHARUM Y SOY UN DESTERRADO DE BOBA FETT
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Book One of Five in the New Beginnings Series. **You do NOT have to read Inhale, Exhale, & Breathe to enjoy these stories** #1 in bxb tag: 09/21/2024 #4 in friendstolovers tag: 9/21/2024 CYRUS PIERCE: I'm content in my almost soundless world. I prefer to live through the romance stories I weave and post online. Hardly anyone reads my books, even if they're free, but I do have one fan, and he's supported me since I started writing two years ago. Except, my writing started to take a depressing dive when I realized that you simply couldn't prevent nor protect your heart from falling for someone. For him. For the one who had no interest in me. When I fell in love with him, I thought we had a chance. It was an accident. Turned out, I couldn't be more wrong. He doesn't want me, and I wasn't supposed to have him. It didn't matter if he showed up in the bookstore every day, talking to everyone else except me. Nor did it matter at all because he didn't know sign language. He couldn't learn. We couldn't communicate. But after I go on a date and it ends in putrid disaster, he makes his appearance known, and he's angry. Then he's doing things for me that confuse me. My stories are filling up with pages of content, dreams that I want to come true, and my mystery commenter encourages me to continue-to reach my happiness. To take what I want. But the activities planned start sparking familiarity-like I lived it before, or maybe dreamed it. Or maybe, just maybe, I'd written it before? My mind is spiraling, but I can't stop myself from getting closer and closer to him. I'm not supposed to have him, but my heart craves him. Sage Monroe, I'm in love with you, and I'm scared now because I have a feeling that you've been communicating with me in more ways than one.

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