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motherroam-rs · 6 months

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Fives x Fem!Reader

NSFW Ahead Minors DNI 18+!!!

A/N: To all the girls who wish they lost their virginity to a clone trooper - this one’s for us.

Tags/Warnings: Loss of virginity, Best Friends to Lovers, Alcohol, Gambling, Lil bit of angst, Fluff, Smut, Oral Sex (F! Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Slow burn (technically), Love Confessions, Happy Ending!!

Summary: Since the moment you were transferred to the 501’st as a Civ Medic you and Fives gravitated towards each other and over many months of friendship you can’t help but slowly fall for the charming ARC Trooper. The tension only increases when he finds out just how inexperienced you are.

Word Count: 9.8k

(For clarification, the italics are flashbacks)

The data pad read ‘Order for Civilian Medic Transfer’, which is really just a nicer way of saying ‘You can’t do anything about this, so just accept it and suffer’.

You had no choice when you were inevitably rotated between legions, untethered. Your newest order was to the 501st, and you find yourself standing in an empty Medbay; it’s quiet. Too quiet. You’ve either been fortunately assigned to a legion that didn’t see much action, if that were even possible, or you were stood in the eye of a hurricane.

Your eyes are caught on the tattoo across the scalp of the head medic, ‘A good droid is a dead one’ and you suppress a smile at the sentiment. It’s why you were needed - clones weren’t fond of droids, even those programmed for medical purposes.

“New?” The clone asks, eyes focused on a datapad. You weren’t, not by any means, you had been rotated countless times over the duration of the clone wars. But, you already begin preparing yourself for the usual gruff demeanour that often greeted you, although you were better than a droid, to many clones you were still just a ‘Civ’, despite the many sleepless nights of studying and GAR medical training.

“No, sir, transferred from the 104th.” You keep your words short, formal, but the clone medic’s eyes light up in recognition.

“Under Commander Wolffe?” He asks, a hint of surprise in his tone as he actually looks away from the datapad.

“Briefly,” you admit, recalling how just a few days before the commander in question practically growled at you when you had to check his eye. You lasted a week there. “I was with the 212th before that.”

The head medic eyes you with a curious look, waiting for you to elaborate, so you continued, “Typically Civ medics are just seen as temporary by the head medic, until a clone medic becomes available.” You explain, perhaps a bit too fast. How many times could you fit the word medic in that sentence? You internally groan, but he gives a small hum of acknowledgement, whether it was in agreement or disagreement of your statement, his face didn’t betray him either way.

“Go get yourself settled, and then report back here in an hour.” He says with a slight sigh, passing you the datapad, a blinking spot on the screen indicating where your bunk is - at least this time you weren’t in the shared barracks. “We’ve only just got back from being planetside on Coruscant for a week.” Ah, that answers the question of why it had been so quiet then.

“Thank you, sir.” You nod, picking up your small pack of personal belongings, it wasn’t much, but it was the only anchor you had when you were transferred around so often.

“Kix is fine.” He nods, giving you a genuine smile. “Welcome to the 501st.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The small room is thrumming with energy that’s been ignited from an evening of drinking following a particularly rough mission for the men. Contraband in the form of amber liquid that burns your throat and fuels bad decisions, is grouped together on a small crate you’ve been using as a makeshift table for the evening.

You’re currently sitting on the floor, leaning against a crate next to Fives as he divulges details to you about their most recent mission. Details that you probably aren’t supposed to know, but he tells you anyways, because ‘what are friends for if not to impress’, he had once told you with a sly wink.

You knew most of the other Civ workers in the GAR weren’t as close to the clones they served with as you were. In all of the legions you had been bounced around from, there was a clear divide between the small number of Civ members, compared to the clones. But in the 501’st, those theoretical lines were blurred, or probably didn’t exist at all, with how Fives’s arm settled around your shoulder. He always had been the most friendly out of his brothers.

Your attention is drawn away from the warm expression of your friend, and you groan as you catch Jesse and Hardcase standing side by side, comparing their lengths.

“Put it away, for the last time they’re all the same size!” You call out with a laugh, making Fives frown and whip around as he’s been interrupted from your conversation.

“Know from experience with clones?” Jesse sends you a drunken wink as his hands sloppily stuffs the offending body part back into his blacks.

“Medical experience with clones.” Your face almost hurts from smiling as you shake your head, before turning back to Fives. It’s faint and fleeting, but a look of annoyance crosses his features. You’re not awarded the opportunity to ask about it though, because he’s already delving into another over-exaggerated story of how he took out a whole group of droids on his own.

You wouldn’t really care if they all weren’t true, you just enjoyed hearing him talk. The man could make even the most boring senate conversations interesting, you’re sure of it. So you smile, hooked onto each of his words, cursing the way your heart beats too fast when he reaches out to push away some hair that's fallen from the usual tight bun you have to wear it in. His fingers graze the skin of your cheek, leaving a burning trail.

It’s a small gesture that doesn’t even break the rhythm of his conversation. The touches are natural, instinctive on his part. He’s always touching you - you know to him it means nothing more than that, but your tell-tale racing heart screams at you that you wish it did.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once you had returned from being settled in, Kix had directed you to some neatly stacked crates containing new medical supplies to restock the old ones. Your sluggish movements remind you just how little sleep you’d managed on the transport here from the 104th, your body was still aching from the hours spent laying on the durasteel floor between containers of explosives. Not the best sleep you’ve had, and surprisingly not the worst.

“Hey Kix, can you tell me if this looks infected?” A voice pulls you from your thoughts, alerting you to the attention of a topless clone trooper, something that no longer phased you given how many entirely naked clones you had treated. Upon seeing you, the clone goes from being relaxed to formal instantly, clearing his throat as he fumbled to get the top half of his blacks on.

“You,” he clears his throat, his voice now adopting the typical ‘trooper at attention’ tone as he pulls the clothing over his head, “Are not Kix.” His top blacks are on backwards, and he runs a finger along the collar which now presses uncomfortably to his flushed neck.

“No, I’m not.” You agree with him, suppressing a small smile at how he looks caught off guard, from his surprised expression you may as well be a battle droid standing in the medical bay.

“May I?” You gesture to his top, and he reluctantly removes it once more, taking a seat on a free bed. You see his issue, a common rash splaying across his shoulders from where his armour has been rubbing his skin through his blacks.

“You’re the new medic?” He sounds more nervous than you are, his jaw tensing when you run your fingers along the rash, checking for any signs of infection.

You give a small hum, confirming he’s correct as you step away. “And you are?”

“Echo. I, uh.. Wasn’t expecting a Civ?” They never do.

“Not infected, by the way, it’s just irritated.” You seek out a steroid cream, which you conveniently just restocked. “Here, use this twice a day, and keep the area as dry as possible.”

He gives you a short, formal nod before he redresses, correctly this time, and leaves the room with his face almost as red as his rash.

You’ve moved onto another crate when you catch the movement from the corner of your eye, somebody passing the door to the Medbay. You think nothing of it until you see the figure again, this time he slows slightly to glance inside the room.

He walks past a third time - and then a fourth.

On what would be the fifth time you poke your head out slightly to watch him walk almost to the end of the hallway, just to turn around and begin his lap back past the door. He stops in his tracks when he sees you looking curiously at him, but quickly recovers even though he’s been caught, and strides back towards you. You catch a glimpse of a tattoo on his temple, but it’s his grin, framed by neatly trimmed facial hair, that seems to distinguish him from other clone troopers you’ve come across. It’s cocky, confident, and warm. Especially warm when he takes hold of your hand and presses it to his lips in a greeting that makes it feel as though you’re trapped in a boiler room, overheating.

“I’m Fives, and you are?”

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

You were settled between Echo and Fives, the three of you with empty cups waiting for the next round of the game. Each round you had to take a shot based on your answer to the question, which so far had ranged between ‘If you’ve been shot by a droid’ - which Rex groaned at, and ‘If you ever fucked a girl in the 79’s fresher’, which made several of the men cheer.

Your heart sinks a bit when Fives drinks at that one, recalling the night just over a month ago on Coruscant.

You had all been there together, his arm slung around your shoulder in the booth as you both laughed at some fleeting joke made by Jesse. You had grown closer, close enough to the point that he got teased relentlessly by his brothers for calling you his ‘best friend’ whilst under the influence of some strong pain medication in the Medbay.

You left to get some more drinks from the bar when Sinker approached you, a spark of recognition in his eyes. You were trying to focus on ordering the drinks, blushing as you attempted to turn down the Sergeant who was whispering over-sweetened things in your ear at how he wished you’d stayed with the 104th for longer.

You smiled in thanks when Echo came to help, claiming he saw that you may need help with carrying the drinks. You were grateful for the assistance, laughing with Echo under the usual volume of the crowd until you caught sight of your best friend, stumbling through the crowd towards the fresher, his hand intertwined with a beautiful Twi’lek girl.

You remember how Echo looked at you as he realised the reason behind your tightened jaw and hoarse voice when you excused yourself for some air. You couldn’t stand the sympathy in his eyes, the eyes that looked identical to those of your best friend, the man you were in love with.

So much for being unattached.

“It wasn’t that good.” Fives nudges your knee with his own, pulling you from your thoughts. A casual smirk plays on his lips and you’re about to laugh off the comment, ready to deflect the attention from your friend, when his twin interrupts you.

“Yeah, cause you couldn’t get it up!” Echo slurs as he leans against you, clutching his cup as some of the amber liquid sloshes down your chest before he apologises and wipes the stain above your breast with hazy eyes. Fives catches his brother's wrist, pushing it away from your chest lightly, and your mind races at Echo’s statement - Fives hadn’t slept with the Twi’Lek girl?

“Shut up, Vod.” Fives grumbles, his fingers tightening around his own cup as he looks away from the two of you. A blush, that must just be from a mix of alcohol and annoyance, creeps up to his face. Thankfully as most of these questions have been related to battle or women, you’ve barely drank, so you can at least try to be rational and push away thoughts that creep into your mind of how you think Fives would take you against the wall of a fresher stall. You can ignore the contemplation on if he would show restraint, or if he would make the walls shake.

“How about this - take a shot for how many people you’ve slept with,” Jesse calls out to the small group of you, an intoxicated grin on his face. Several hands reach for the last remaining bottle at once, ready to fill their cups, each of their owners immediately wanting to show off to the rest of the room's occupants.

“No!” Kix’s hand is the fastest to snatch the liquor away, holding it close to his chest plate. “We are not looking after you all in the Medbay with alcohol poisoning!” He gestures between you both, and Jesse bargains, coming to a compromise for 1 shot for every certain number, but the specifics of the round are drowned out by your own heartbeat.

Your body stills and you look down to your half full cup. It would be easy to drink, to lie to yourself and those around you. You don’t even have to drink more than once and yet you just continue to stare at your reflection in the liquid, it’s as if the cup were judging you.

“You know you’re supposed to at least drink once, right?” Fives whispers in your ear.

“Yeah, just got distracted trying to work out which of your brothers are definitely exaggerating,” You nod, taking a sip from the cup as you avoid his eyes that burn you more than any liquor ever could. You place the empty cup at your feet and lean your head against Echos, managing a small smile at how he’s snoring against your shoulder.

Fives gives a small hum of thought, finishing his own drink before placing the empty cup next to you, allowing his finger to linger on the rim for a moment. Your gaze is focused on the way the traces of liquor coat his fingertips, making the battle-calloused skin glisten. You close your eyes, trying to fend off the thoughts of how the whiskey tainted fingers would taste on your tongue, and the mental image of them coated in something sweeter than the alcohol.

“Remember the first time I dragged you here?” Fives’ amused tone forces your eyes open, his warm hand settling on your knee and he taps his fingers rhythmically, almost to the same beat as your unsteady heart.

It had been just over one standard month, one of your longest posts so far, and you were already finding yourself anxious that you could be transferred away at any moment. If you had told yourself just over a month ago that in your new assignment with the 501st that you would wake to two half-drunk troopers in your room, begging you to come play Sabbac with them, you would have diagnosed them with battle induced psychosis.

“Well, not with us-” Fives starts, rummaging around the small closet for something you could wear over your sleeping vest.

“For us.” Echo finishes, practically pulling you out of your bed with an eager nod as Fives approaches you with something in his hands.

“Hands up, sweetheart.” In your tired state, you obey thoughtlessly, allowing Fives to slip the sweatshirt over your head. His fingers trail down your sides, eliciting goosebumps across your skin as he pulls the heavy fabric down over you, and between the contact and his name for you, your heart skips a beat. It nearly stops when he winks before turning away to get your shoes.

Clone Troopers were often flirty, but over the last month, Fives seemed determined to earn the title of being the biggest flirt. Regardless which of his brothers got sick or minorly injured, he was always the one pulling them through the door and would then spend the entire time sweet talking you. Just last week, Rex had nearly concussed himself on a pipe and looked like he wanted to hit Fives who didn’t stop talking the whole time you examined the injury.

“And why do you need me to play for you? I’ve never even played before,” You swallow thickly, sliding your feet into the shoes as the twins guide you from your room, both of their hands on your back, ushering you down complex hallways that all look identical.

“Fives got caught cheating, so we both got banned,” Echo rolls his eyes, placing the blame on his brother, who begins telling you the rules of the game, which they are playing a slight variation of given that they only had items to bet, not credits. You had reluctantly allowed them to bring a full bottle of rather expensive vodka you had purchased last time you were on Coruscant.

“You did not wake up the new medic just to get her to play for you.” Jesse groans, and Rex begins apologising to you for his brothers, ready to scold them for waking you up, but you raise your hand to stop him.

“It’s no bother.” You shake your head, remembering Fives and Echo’s advice to act confident - so really you just had to ask yourself ‘What would Fives do?’

“You know how to play?” Kix asks, surprised by your sudden change in demeanour. He had been used to you keeping your head down in the Medbay, following orders, not showing up with a bottle of alcohol to bet on and Fives’s arm slung around your shoulder.

“Oh please, I’ve been playing Sabbac longer than some of you have been out of the tube.” You feel Fives give your shoulder a proud squeeze at your lie as he places the bottle of vodka on the makeshift table, and you both take a seat, “Deal me in?”

After several rounds of you finding your feet in the game, Fives drops his hand to your waist, giving it a squeeze - he’s signalling to go in for the kill. You turn your head slightly to look into his eyes, and he gives a slight nod that doesn’t go unnoticed by your opponents, he’s making it look so sure you’re going to win, but in reality your cards weren’t good.

You and Rex were down to the last cards, everyone else had folded. Either of you could have the winning hand, but if one of you backed out now before your cards were revealed, you could at least keep your own stake in the game. It was about the bluffing now, and thankfully you were good at that.

“Well, Captain?” You and Fives lean backward in sync. You press the cards to your chest, hiding how they’re on the verge of shaking from Fives’ grip on your waist, but also to hide your tell. It’s a small, barely noticeable movement, your forefinger running along the edge of your thumbnail - a nervous movement that Rex hasn’t noticed past your arrogant smile that perfectly mirrors Fives’. “What’ll it be?”

There’s a short beat where the room is silent and you hold the gaze of the Captain, all of the others staring between you both like it’s an intense standoff. He looks away first, tossing the cards down with a huff as he backs out, giving the win to you; he actually had a good hand.

“Oh and by the way, sir,” You lay your cards down, revealing that you had already gone bust, over the number limit to win. “I’ve never played Sabbac in my life.” You grin at the shocked expression on his face that melts into a warm smile and you’re enveloped into a hug from Fives while Echo reaps your winnings from the table.

After you all decide to have a drink from the bottle you bet with, the tiredness catches up to you, and you struggle to stay alert with the alcohol that casts a haze on your mind.

“C’mon, I’ll take you back.” Fives nudges you, picking up the half-full bottle of vodka as he pulls you to your feet, shaking his head in amusement when he tugs a bit too hard and you fall into his chest. “Already falling for me, sweetheart?” his voice is low, something that can only be heard between the two of you in the room full of his boisterous brothers.

You roll your eyes in amusement, a defence against how the whisper makes heat spread throughout your body. You take a half step back, placing the empty cup on the crate as you exchange a short goodbye with Echo.

“I’m gonna walk our lovely medic here back to her room, I’ll be back soon,” Fives gives a mock salute as you both make your exit and you try to ignore the whistle from one of the men as Fives chuckles, shaking his head. “Animals aren’t they, Mesh’la?”

You hadn’t known this side to any of the clones you’d served with, albeit you were just a medic, none of them had ever been this relaxed around you. The entire time you had been in the GAR, it had been lonely. There was no one to celebrate with after battle, no late night conversations between friends, no one to just sit with and cry when you weren’t able to save a life. But walking through the corridors with Fives somehow made it all worth it.

“You did great, sweetheart, I’m impressed.” Fives brings the bottle to his lips, taking a swig of the clear liquid as you stop outside of your door. “You’re just full of surprises aren’t you?” His tongue darts out to lick the vodka off his lips and you can’t help but let your eyes linger there after the action. His gaze is already meeting yours when you look up, heat flickering in his eyes like the flame of a candle - he’s caught you staring.

Fives’ hand comes up to hold your waist once more, his grip tighter now, drawing you closer like you were a flower he wanted to admire. The scent of vodka from his breath intoxicates you, and you find yourself hypnotised, leaning closer. You don’t know what causes it, but at the last moment he freezes, his hand falling from your waist to press the panel outside your door, opening it.

“Goodnight.” He gives a tight-lipped smile before stepping away, walking back down the corridor in the direction of the barracks. Despite the heavy sweatshirt and warmth of the vodka in your blood, you feel empty as you enter your dark room. You find yourself lying awake in your bunk as you work through a mixture of disappointment, embarrassment, and something that ignites an ache between your thighs.

He stopped himself from kissing you, and you didn’t know why.

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You know your way back, he doesn’t need to walk you, yet he always does. It’s been almost 8 standard months since you were transferred to the 501st, you could practically navigate your way around blindfolded. So, you know you're about to turn onto the corridor your room is on when he speaks.

“You didn’t drink.”

Your mouth goes dry, it’s like you’ve just eaten a whole pack of ration crackers while sitting in the Tatooine desert with no water. The lights above feel harsher, as if you’re under a spotlight on the Medbay examination table, and Fives is the one inspecting you. He’s peering at you from the corner of your vision, gauging your reaction to his statement.

“What are you talking about, Fives?” You shrug in an attempt to appear nonchalant, but unfortunately due to his metabolism he was as sober as you, meaning he was just as observant. You couldn’t brush off his attention when he places a hand on your shoulder, stopping you in your place just as you round a corner. From here you can see the door to your room, the third from the end. It’s taunting you at how close you were to getting away with the secret you’d been keeping against your chest.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” His free hand grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger, directing your attention to him. You swallow as he draws your face closer, eyes raking over your features as he gives a small shake of his head. “You didn’t drink.”

“Yes I did.” Your voice is impressively steady, you’re good at bluffing. Fives already knows this, but he knows you better, and his eyes dart down in search of something. Your fingertip presses against the edge of your thumb in a movement that Fives had catalogued in his brain since that day you beat Rex at Sabbac.

The credit drops. You can see the moment it registers in Fives’ brain as his jaw goes slack, his grip on your chin loosening.

“Are you a- mph!” Your hand covers his mouth and you push him to the wall before he can shout aloud what you’ve kept unsaid for your whole time in the GAR. Fives was an ARC trooper, he could easily push you away, but his muscles seem to weaken against your grip. You feel the resistance in his body melt under your touch, as his eyes soften just above where your hand covers his mouth.

“I know you’re a loud mouth but please,” Your voice is low, urgent, as you give him a warning look, your face burning from embarrassment as he’s just come to the realisation of why you didn’t drink. You didn’t have any number to drink for. You can see him linking it together in his head - why you turned down flirtatious advances from his brothers, why he walked you back alone after every late night. It was why your body was so responsive to every small touch and honeyed word from his lips; like a flower chasing fleeting sunlight in the late afternoon. “Just this once, Fives, keep your voice down.”

Fives gives a short nod down at you, assuring you he’ll be quiet. His fingers loop around your wrist, tugging your hand from his mouth. You unsuccessfully try to ignore the way his lips had felt against your skin, you’re so caught on the small patch of wetness on your palm that you miss the clench of his jaw and flash of emotions in his eyes.

“You’ve really never..?” He trails off, the words settling into the small gap between you, they’re not taunting or teasing, they’re simply disbelieving. Even though he’s released your wrist now, it’s still suspended in the air, as if you’ve been frozen in carbonite. You’re afraid to move away, that it would be just like all those months ago, that the moment would be shattered and lost.

Your breaths are mingling together, you’re like an asteroid orbiting, drawing closer and closer to his planet, bracing for impact. Fives is unblinking, waiting for the answer he already knows, but needs to hear for himself.

“No.”

Something stirs in the depths of Fives’ eyes and there’s a tension you could almost reach out and grasp from the air. Your body acts on its own, hand breaking free from its frozen stupor to find interest in a small scar on his jaw. You remember treating the small cut, he never even flinched, but you had let him hold your hand anyways. ‘It’s for comfort’, Fives had told you, accompanied by the usual sly wink that made it all the more difficult for your free hand to remain steady when you cleaned the cut.

Fives’ eyes slip closed when your fingertips graze against the shining scar, his breathing becoming carefully controlled. You recognise the pattern, it’s the same pace it was during the times he would take you to the training rooms, his body pressed to yours as he taught you to shoot. He would chuckle into your ear when your hands would shake, causing you to miss.

Your hands are steady now, no signs of the trembling are evident when you raise your attention higher. Your finger traces its way over the inky ‘5’ on his temple, and you’re about to move it away but you find yourself held in place, fingers still pressed against the tattoo.

Fives’ constant touches were always casual, fleeting, and meaningless. But this? This was deliberate.

His gloved hand is circled around the bare skin of your wrist once more, keeping your fingers pressed against his temple. After a short, breathless moment, he moves your hand, but not to push it away this time. He pulls it closer, making your fingers trace across his cheekbone, against his warm skin all the way on a deliberate path to his mouth.

Fives’ lips ghost across your fingertips and in contrast to his rough exterior and battle scarred skin, they’re soft. Just above the point of your fixation is his heavy stare, focused and serious, like you’re his target in the heat of battle.

Your heart is thrumming against your ribcage like blaster fire and you wonder if he can feel the pulse in your wrist through his gloves at the sheer force of it. There’s barely any space between the two of you, and it only lessens with every beat of your heart.

“Just… stay still for a second, please,” Fives’ eyes burn into yours and he’s like a black hole orbiting you, pulling you in with his gravity. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart?” His voice is a strained whisper, just cosmic background noise, all you can focus on is how his breath fans across your lips.

His eyes close again when you nod, and you allow yourself to slip away into the same darkness as he consumes all of your senses.

The touch is light, a soft brush of his lips against your own, and the gentle contact has a shiver running through your body. His hand has placed your palm back to his jaw, covering it with his own as he pulls you in deeper. The second kiss is more confident, the swipe of his tongue over your lower lip has the world around you dissolving into a meaningless void as he becomes the centre of your universe.

Before you can part your lips for him, Fives pulls away, just enough so he can look at you. There’s a dazed expression on his face, like he’s been concussed but is strangely happy about it. The momentary bewilderment melts away into an unusually shy smile and he’s about to kiss you again when you’re interrupted. There's laughter echoing from the direction you just came and Fives pulls back further, a suddenly serious look taking over his face.

You’re filled with a strange sense of deja vu when he steps away, your heart already sinking. Before you can open your mouth to apologise for getting carried away, to try and repair whatever strain the kiss could have put on your friendship, you’re being pulled along by his gentle grasp. Fives is making urgent paces down the short walk to your door, slamming his free hand to the control panel to get you both away from whatever prying eyes may have stumbled upon your private moment.

The door whooshes down to swallow you both in the darkness of your room and just like all those months ago, your back is pressed against the cool durasteel door. Only this time, you’re on the other side of it.

You immediately miss the warmth his body has been providing you with when he walks over to your desk, fumbling in the darkness from your lamp switch. Your lips still tingle from where his own were pressed against yours, and you swear you can still taste him.

The room is poorly illuminated from the dim bulb, but it's enough to highlight the figure of Fives leaning over your desk and you take in the full sight of him. He’s still wearing his armour from the waist down, but his upper half is only dressed in his tight blacks, and the lamp casts shadows that accentuate every ridge of muscle. It’s times like this where you’re reminded the man in front of you isn’t just your best friend, but also a highly decorated ARC Trooper, a man who spends most of his days in battle.

The serious look doesn’t leave his face, even when he’s moved back in front of you, blocking out the rest of your room with his large frame. At some point in the darkness, Fives has removed his gloves, allowing you to feel the rough skin of his hand as it cups your face. His thumb tugs at your lower lip, smearing saliva across the swollen skin as he teases the sensitive flesh. You can make out the apprehensive desire in his eyes as he marvels down at your mouth, before looking up to meet your gaze once more.

“Kriff, I…” His voice is light, and there’s an uncertain, almost desperate edge to it before he swallows it down. “Sweetheart, do you want this?”

It would be easy to lie to the both of you and back out. You never expected to meet anyone when you enlisted into the GAR straight from your medical school. Back then you had wanted to be a doctor, it was expected of you by your family, you sacrificed your entire social life to work for it.

You were never given the luxury of free-time, how could you ever have met anyone when all you did in your later teen years, when all your friends were partying and meeting their partners, was study? It was never a case that you didn’t want to be with anyone, but life simply prevented you from it. You were in your third year when the war broke out, two more years at the university and you would have graduated, but instead you decided to take your study credits and enlist as a medic. In less than a standard rotation from the moment you notified the university, you were on a transport to your first assignment.

You had let your work and the war rob you of so many experiences, you wouldn’t let them take this from you too. You wouldn’t let them take him from you too.

“Yes, Fives.” You nod, allowing your hands to rest on his broad shoulders. You’re sure of this, sure of him.

“Tell me to stop,” There’s a hunger in Fives’ eyes when you say his name and his lips press back to yours in a kiss that’s over far too quickly. “At any time, tell me to stop.” He’s holding your face still, unmoving until he has your consent.

“Okay.” There’s no reluctance in your tone, just a breathless need that makes Fives’ jaw tick.

Fives exhales, his shoulders relaxing and your eyes close again in anticipation, awaiting his kiss. But instead you feel the heat of his forehead press to yours, as if he’s anchoring himself against you, just for a moment.

“Okay, sweetheart.” His mouth is instantly on yours, his right hand still cups your jaw, but his left slips around your back in search of the zip on your uniform. He makes quick work of pulling the zipper down to loosen the material from your skin, and both hands travel down to your hips, tugging at the edge of the fabric.

“Hands up.” Fives’ voice is low in your ear as he presses a kiss to your hairline, and you raise your arms, allowing him to slip the top from your body. He discards it on the floor, not wanting to waste any time that could be spent with his hands on your exposed skin.

Fives is slower this time. Each movement is purposeful when he guides you both towards your small bunk, his tongue slipping past your lips in a kiss that makes you dizzy as you taste him in your mouth.

When the back of your knees meet the edge of your bunk, Fives’ lips begin to trail down your body. His path starts at the soft skin of your now exposed cleavage, and continues down past your bra, over the smooth skin of your stomach. There’s a soft scrape when his armour makes contact with the floor, he’s dropping to a kneeling position with his lips hovering over your abdomen. You look down at the man kneeling before you with his fingers hooked in the waistband of your uniform leggings, and you can’t help but smile. Fives pauses momentarily, sending a wink up at you before he tugs the fabric down, exposing the flesh of your legs.

“Lay down.” Fives whispers, and you can feel his warm breath tickle your stomach.

You settle backwards onto the bunk, allowing Fives to remove your leggings entirely, along with your shoes. You’re left in just your simple, black GAR issued bra and panties. It’s nothing special by any means, but Fives eyes you as if you’re an oasis he’s stumbled upon in the middle of a month-long battle. One meant only for him.

You let your eyes slip closed as you hear the familiar noise of his armour being removed, clattering to the floor. It’s something you’ve heard many times when he’s come to relax with you on an evening and you find yourself counting each piece removed as a distraction until bare fingers brush your knee. It’s a comforting touch to draw you back to him.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart, look at me.” Fives is sat just between your legs, bare aside from tight boxers that leave little of his anatomy to the imagination. You already knew what clones looked like naked, you had treated enough of them to not be phased by any part of their body. But a clone on a Medbay table was different to your best friend whose lips were pressing to the soft flesh of your inner thigh. “Is this okay?”

He inhales against your panties and you attempt to swallow your embarrassment and nervousness at the sight of your friend between your legs with only a thin layer of fabric between you. The sight of his ever-present smile between your legs sends a flood of heat through your body before it concentrates in your lower stomach.

When you don’t reply immediately, he pulls back slightly, giving the thigh he’s hooked over his shoulder a light squeeze. His brown eyes are filled with concern, searching your expression for any hesitation.

“You still with me?” His thumb traces patterns against your skin, each movement only encouraging the fire in your body.

“I’m still with you,” You nod, watching as something lights up in his eyes. “What are you-“

Fives immediately silences your question with an action. His wet, open mouth presses to your thigh again and you feel yourself exposed to him when he hooks a finger in your panties, pulling them to the side.

“I’m taking my time with you Mesh’la.” His hot breath fans over your now exposed cunt and you fight the urge to clasp your legs together, you’ve never felt more vulnerable lying in your bunk, entirely bare to the person you trust most and it’s a vulnerability that makes your heart race as if you’re under attack.

Fives seems to sense your nervousness as he holds your knees firmly apart with his shoulders and free hand, keeping your legs open for him to litter small kisses on your inner thighs, all the while keeping you exposed for him.

“Focus on me, Cyar'ika.”

Before your apprehension can get the better of you, Fives is licking a slow, experimental stripe up your slit, parting your folds with his tongue. His eyes are on yours the whole time, studying the awed look on your face and gasps of pleasure when his tongue runs over your clit.

Fives shakes his head, grumbling something under his breath. Before you can decipher it, he’s using one hand to lift your hips from the bed while his other practically tears the panties from your body, leaving you in just your bra. Strong hands move to grip the top of your thighs and pull you to him so he can secure his mouth to your core without obstruction, filling the room with wet, desperate noises as he laps at your cunt.

Your hands twist in the thin bed sheets, desperately searching for something to ground you as his tongue delves inside you. His mouth is attached to you like you’re his last meal before an execution, the first drop of water after a mission on a desert planet, something he’s denied himself for far too long.

One of his fingers circles your entrance and your eyes snap open, finding him already looking up at you with a question in his gaze, asking for permission. You can only nod, not trusting your ability to speak with Fives’s tongue dragging slow circles around your clit.

Your head slumps back to the floor when he proceeds with your consent, the sensation is entirely foreign as you feel his digit sink into you, testing your tightness. Your own fingers were nothing in comparison to his, even just the one is beginning to stretch you.

“Fives…” Your breathless plea encourages him and your teeth sink into your lower lip as he adds another finger to stretch you further. You let out a small whimper at the slight burn and he slows his movements slightly to allow you time to adjust.

“Shh, Mesh’la,” He changes the angle slightly, massaging his fingertips against the walls of your cunt as they search for a particularly sensitive spot. Your body jolts, arching towards him when he finds it, and a moan escapes you. “That’s it, relax.”

The heat in your core is building as you grow wetter, making it easy for him to work his fingers into your tight hole, only adding to the growing pleasure building in every part of you, begging to escape. He presses his thumb to your swollen clit, one goal in mind.

“Need to make sure you’re ready for me, Cyar'ika.”

Fives withdraws his fingers from your gushing cunt, his hands instead moving from under your thighs and securing themselves back to their original position on your knees, keeping your trembling legs open as he continues to suck lightly on your clit when you reach your climax. Your body shakes, set alight with pleasure that’s only intensified by the way his head rests against your thigh, looking up at you as if committing the moment to memory.

When you finally relax against the bed, the pleasure having temporarily robbed your body of energy, you expect him to be done and move onto the next step. Instead, he lets out a low chuckle and begins circling your clit with his thumb once more.

“Do you think you can give me another one, Mesh’la?” His soft smile contrasts his words, but his eyes gleam with mischief when you whisper a small ‘yes’ in response.

He’s using just his fingers this time, two of them working you in a scissoring motion, stretching your walls as his other hand slips between you and the mattress. His fingers expertly find the clasp to your bra, freeing you from the last item of your clothing.

His pupils are dilated, drinking in the sight of your writhing body, now entirely bare for him. He leans back slightly, taking in every detail, something between a smile and a smirk on his lips when his eyes focus on his own fingers pumping in your tight hole. The moment he feels your orgasm hit, cunt tightening around his fingers, he descends on you once more. Teeth pulling at your nipple, his thumb secured to your clit as he lets you ride out your orgasm, your hips attempt to grind up against his hand, chasing pleasure.

The world is falling back into place around you when he shifts his weight on the bed, and you hear the final piece of clothing hit the floor.

Fives is kneeling in front of you, a hand on each of your knees as you take in the sight of his bare body. His large cock makes the breath hitch in your throat, but he presses a soft kiss against your lips, prepared to ease the tension that threatens to overwhelm your body. His eyes are filled with a warmth that reassures you when he pulls back to press another kiss against your forehead, “You can take it, Cyar'ika, I’ll go slow.”

Fives settles his hips between your parted thighs, hooking one of your legs over his waist to keep you open beneath him. Soft lips ghost over yours and you feel the head of his cock settle against your entrance.

“Are you ready?” His thumb brushes along your jaw, a loving reminder that it’s your best friend above you, the person you trust the most. The same man who you would stay up with late at night after every difficult battle, who you would always pick up an extra ration bar for, the man you were in love with.

“Yes.” Your eyes slip closed as you press your lips back to his.

The initial pressure of his cock entering you gives way to a sharp pinch that causes you to suck in a sharp breath through your teeth. Despite all of Fives’s efforts to prepare you, the unfamiliar pain seizes your body in an uncomfortable grasp.

“Relax for me, Cyar'ika.” He murmurs the assurance against your mouth, forcing his own breathing to slow, unconsciously prompting you to calm down. A hand presses to the underside of your thigh, pushing it upwards as he rolls his hips into you, he’s only halfway inside and you try to force yourself to relax around his impressive girth.

“That’s my girl.” He groans into your neck as his hand drops from your thigh to drag precise circles around your tight clit. The added layer of stimulation makes you gush around the half of his length inside you, making it easier to take his cock, but he doesn’t push any deeper. Instead he rocks his hips in a shallow motion, allowing you to adjust to this size first.

“Shh, don’t worry, Mesh’la,” He strokes your hair, continuing to press soft kisses of assurance to your mouth as he works your clit in time with his shallow thrusts. “It’ll be easier once you cum with me inside you, then you’ll be more relaxed for me.”

Fives’ hips pick up their pace, but he still limits himself, expertly watching your body's reactions to his cock. He’s continuously ensuring he doesn't go too fast, too hard, too deep. It’s a balancing act, one he seems to be perfect at with the way he already has the beginnings of another orgasm taking grasp of your body.

“Fives!”

You’re grinding helplessly against him now, one hand on his tanned chest and the other grasping at the short hair on the back of his head. Between Fives’s whispered words of adoration in your ear, you can make out the wet noises as he thrusts inside you, each movement causing more of your wetness to drip between your joined bodies, smearing you both with your arousal.

You’re hooked onto his words like a lifeline as he guides you through the experience.

“Kriff-” He shakes his head as he takes in the sight of you cumming around his cock. But it’s not lust in his eyes, it’s something far more intense. “I promised I wouldn’t do this..” His voice is strained, like he’s trying to keep the words inside of him.

Before you can even catch your breath fully to ask what he means, your world is spinning when he pulls you upwards, slotting himself underneath you so you can no longer try to read the emotions in his face. Your back is now pressed to his chest, his body supporting you to stay upright and he’s hooking his right hand under your knee, spreading you apart.

His chin rests on top of your head, the position allowing him a full view of your body as his cock enters your cunt from behind; it’s more than before, but still not the full length. Your right arm curls up around behind you to hold the back of Fives’ neck, needily pulling him closer in the moment as you writhe against his body.

“Look at that, Cyar'ika,” You feel the rumble in his chest just as much as you hear it, and it draws your attention down to your joined bodies. He shifts slightly to support your head as you catch glimpses of his cock disappearing into your tight hole in a series of shallow, restrained thrusts. “Look how perfectly we fit together.”

His eyes remain locked on your body, the way your chest heaves and cunt tightens, dripping down his cock as you cum once more, you’re already losing count. From what you were always told by friends when you were in University, losing your virginity was supposed to be a far cry from this. In fact you don’t think a single one of your friends had cum when losing theirs, and yet here you were, the room almost spinning from the pleasure Fives had given you.

Fives chuckles at the blissful look on your face as he pulls his hand from your clit, allowing you to relax against his larger frame. “You are really something else, Cyar'ika.” He’s slower this time when he rolls you both over once more, cradling the back of your head as he rests you back onto the pillows.

He resumes his original position above you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. His eyes are full of adoration when he looks down at you, and there’s no trace of the painful stretch from earlier when he slides the full length of his cock inside you this time.

He’s been so focused on your pleasure that his own has been forgotten, but you see the evidence of it. He’s coated in a sheen of sweat that makes him appear like one of those glossy paintings in the art galleries on Coruscant. He’s an artwork, beautifully crafted, every muscle in his body coiled tight in restraint as his hips grind against yours.

It’s your turn to touch him this time, to appreciate every bit of the vulnerability in his face as he presses his forehead against yours and you angle your face upwards to steal a kiss. A tortured moan escapes his lips as his thrusts only increase in speed, he’s clinging onto you like it’s his sole purpose.

“Where?” His breathing is ragged against your neck.

You make a confused noise in response and he curses something in Mando’a.

“Where do you want me to cum, Mesh’la, hm?”

You‘re speechless from the pleasure, but thankfully your body answers for you, already locking your legs around his hips to keep you joined together.

“Alright, Cyar'ika, inside it is.” There’s a soft rumble of amusement against your throat before his mouth finds yours again. One hand tangles in your hair while the other grips your hip, both of them seeking to drag you closer. You’re two stars colliding in the void of the universe, no longer orbiting each other, instead becoming one as your light drowns out all darkness around the pair of you.

His name is falling from your lips, cries of it suffocated against him when his tongue slips into your mouth. Fives empties himself inside you, his cock unloading a flood of warmth that already overspills, leaking from your cunt with every slow movement of his hips. He pulls back, an unreadable emotion in his eyes before he buries his face in your hair, distracting himself by stroking at your burning skin. You stay there as you both begin to calm, hearts beating in sync with one another as your bodies remain joined.

He’s breathing heavily in your ear, an affirmation that you haven’t died and ascended to some afterlife when he drags his hips away from yours, leaving you empty as he stands up.

“Where are you going?” You hate yourself for sounding so needy, but with his cum leaking from between your thighs, how could you not. You knew it was common for men to leave straight after sex. You’ve caught some of the boys’ one night stands sneaking out barely ten minutes after they had been brought to the barracks, hair messy and clothes dishevelled.

“Relax, sweetheart, I’m not leaving.” He winks at you before disappearing into the small fresher joined to your room. You hear the water running for what seems like far too long, before he returns with a warm washcloth.

“Gotta clean us up before we make a mess on the bed, I’m not falling asleep in a wet patch.” He settles back between your legs, whispering soothing praises as he cleans your combined fluids. He’s thorough, making sure there’s no trace of him left before he presses a kiss to your inner thigh and discards the cloth into your laundry basket.

“C’mere.” He settles down next to you, lifting an arm to allow you to curl up against him and he pulls the bed covers over your waists. “You did so well, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, basking in a moment neither of you want to end. It’s sweet, intimate, and perfect.

Yet you can’t stop yourself from asking the question.

“What did you mean when you said you promised you wouldn’t do this?”

He pauses, an awkward smile tugging at his lips, you’d never seen him nervous like this, a blush creeping into his cheeks that he can’t even blame on the sex. “Caught that did you?”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. Your cards were on the table, it’s only fair that his should be too.

“I suppose it’s only fair given that I didn’t let you get away with not drinking.” There’s a nervous edge to his laugh as he drags you closer to him, like he’s afraid you could disappear at any given moment.

“Do you remember the first time we played Sabbac, you kicked Rex’s ass, and I walked you back to your room?”

You nod slightly. The memory still plagued your thoughts on sleepless nights, it embedded itself in a playlist of embarrassing moments that liked to keep you awake. Yet, it also featured on the list of thoughts that had your legs twisted in the bed sheets as you imagine what would have happened if he did kiss you that night.

“I wanted to kiss you, but I couldn’t.” He sighs regretfully, admitting the truth he had been fighting against all of the months since that night.

“I think you’d only been here for what - a month?” You feel his laugh against your cheek as it rumbles in his chest. “And I couldn’t get you out of my damn head, I even made Echo fake being sick once just so I had an excuse to come to the Medbay and talk to you.” You remembered, and now felt slightly bad for insisting you give Echo all those unnecessary virus and anti-nausea shots.

“I needed the excuses to see you, because if I didn’t, and I saw you without them, it’d mean something that I’d been avoiding.” He trails off, trying to find a way to put it into words, it wasn’t something he had ever been good at. But he would try, for you he would try.

“The rest of the boys found out because I called you my girlfriend once when Kix gave me some of the heavy stuff in those green syringes.” He laughs, shaking his head and your mind begins to put the pieces together, that’s why they teased him so often about it. “They all promised they wouldn’t tell you how I felt though - I wanted to be the one to tell you.”

He drags a hand down his face, his jaw tenses. “And then I got jealous when I saw that Sergeant from the 104th talking to you, how he had his hands on you,” He shakes his head, an irritated look playing on his face, both at the other trooper, and his own actions on that night. “Thought I blew my shot, and I tried to cover it the only way I knew how.”

Your mind recalls him and the Twi’lek making a beeline for the 79’s freshers, how just a month ago you ended up crying in the alleyway, it was like taking a blaster bolt to your chest. No amount of Bacta could fix the pain that night, but you had certainly tried to heal it with whiskey.

“But I didn’t do it, and it’s not like Echo said, not because I couldn't,” He pulls himself back from you, but continues to hold you, to keep you in the moment with him as he explains what happens, a regretful look on his face. “It’s because she wasn’t you, Cyare.”

He presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and your fingers trace over the tattoo again, just for a moment, just until he finds the strength inside of him; the strength to override his programmed instincts to be a loyal, unattached soldier and nothing more.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t…” Fives trails off, opening his eyes. He needs to see your reaction, whether it’s good or bad, he needs to know. “Fall in love with you.”

You wonder if this is what the Jedi feel with the force around them, but instead of the whole world, you just feel Fives. The warmth of his skin under your fingers, the certainty in his eyes, the utter devotion for you in his voice as he fights against every form of conditioning he’s received.

“Fives, you idiot…” His expression is concerned at first until he sees your teary eyes and beaming smile. “I love you too.”

You had loved him since the moment he kissed your knuckles on your first day in the Medbay, every interaction after that only strengthened the bond between you.

Fives smiles down at you, his quiet laughs tickle your skin with warm air as you’re lured back into his embrace. He laughs disbelievingly, shaking his head as he allows his body to press back against yours, a perfect fit.

“We have so much time to make up for, sweetheart.”

You never want to lose this feeling, his lips marking your body, peppering reminders everywhere that you’re his, you have been since the moment that fateful order flashed up on your datapad. You’re anchored, attached, tethered to him - whatever word you want to give it, you’re his.

#arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #arc trooper fives #star wars #clone wars #Arc trooper fives smut

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genshin-impact-updates · 24 days

Text

Xbox Player Recruitment: Genshin Impact Xbox Series X|S Test Player Recruitment Now Open

Genshin Impact is about to launch on Xbox, and we're launching the "Xbox Test" for Travelers to experience and provide feedback.

After joining the test server, complete certain testing tasks on the server for a chance to receive a certain amount of Primogems as a reward on the official server.

*Please note that this recruitment is only for Xbox players. Test participants must have an Xbox Series X|S device; otherwise, they will not be able to participate in the test.

How to Apply

Fill out the survey:

>>>Link<<<

Please read the survey carefully and fill it out accurately. If you are eligible for the test, we will notify you via the contact information provided in the survey.

Submission time

September 6, 2024 11:00 (UTC+8) – September 23, 2024 11:00 (UTC+8)

Estimated start time:

Early October

Device Requirements

Currently Supports

Xbox Series S

Xbox Series X

Confidentiality Notice for Test Content

This player recruitment for the test is focused on Xbox content, and most of the content is still in a state of adjustment.

Considering that leaks from the test server could lead to misunderstandings of the official version's content and negatively impact Travelers' experience with the official release, we thus require Travelers participating in the player database to keep the test content completely confidential and not disclose it in any form (including but not limited to screenshots, live streams, videos, etc.).

Therefore, Travelers who have the opportunity to participate in the test will need to sign a confidentiality agreement.

If it is confirmed that a tester has leaked information, they will be dealt with in accordance with the relevant clauses of the confidentiality agreement.

All content on the test server does not represent the quality of the final release. Please refer to the content of the official version for reference.

Notes

1. This test is only for Xbox, and eligibility is tied to the device used for the initial login. Switching to other devices is not allowed. If you change devices and trigger a ban, it will not be lifted. Account sharing or trading is strictly prohibited, and such actions will be considered a breach of the confidentiality agreement.

2. For important information regarding the test recruitment and relevant details, Travelers should rely on official channels such as HoYoLAB. Please refrain from trusting false information from unofficial sources.

3. All Travelers must fill out the information accurately. We will carefully verify the authenticity of the information provided. If there are discrepancies between the submitted information and the actual details, it may result in ineligibility for this test. If errors in the survey are due to personal reasons, we will consider it as a forfeiture of your test eligibility.

4. The test server does not support in-game purchases. After the current test period ends, all data will be deleted. Test eligibility is only valid for the current test and cannot be inherited, transferred, or sold.

5. Please ensure that you are 18 years old or older. Otherwise, you will not be eligible for the test, and we will not enter into a confidentiality agreement with you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact updates #genshin impact news #official #make sure you read all the fine print if you apply #beta testing is fun but the rules are very serious

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froggibus · 2 years

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omg okay so like.. maybe hate sex with hanzo or cassidy??? with maaaayyybbeeee just a touch of enemies to lovers??

Right Here, Right Now - Cole Cassidy

Pairing: Cole Cassidy x f! Reader

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: you and Cass are not on the best terms—he’s cocky and you’re bratty, but after a particularly difficult mission, Cass finds a way to make the two of you put your difference aside

CW: enemies to lovers (ish), cocky! Cass, use of pumpkin/sweet pea/good girl, reader has female pronouns, rough sex, lots of strong language, fingering, oral (m! receiving), face fucking, hair pulling

haven’t done cass yet so figured I would do him for this one! will definitely think about doing a hanzo version in the future though. enjoy! (also I definitely did not steal some of the smut from a diff fic I wrote about Rooster oops)

“That’s three for me,” Cassidy smirks at you, standing over the omnics he’s just blown up. “How many did you get again?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Cass.”

The man whistles at your harsh language, only making you angrier. Your missions together always went like this—him being cocky and insufferable, and you only getting angrier with him.

The two of you had hated each other for as long as you could remember. Cole had too big of an ego for you to ever like him, and your resistance to what he dubbed his ‘irresistible charm’ only seemed to egg him on. It was a match made in hell.

“Let’s just get the thumb drive, and get out, okay?”

“Whatever you say, sweet pea.”

You groan at the nickname and resist the urge to punch him in the arm. The halls of the old omnic facility you infiltrated are dark, mostly abandoned. It made the mission easier, you guess, since you didn’t have to deal with highly trained soldiers.

You turn the corner to the hallway that’s supposed to lead to the control room. You don’t even notice the omnic waiting for you on the other side of the wall. Lucky for you, Cass does.

He’s pulling out his revolver and placing two holes in it’s head before it can hurt you. You turn to face him with wide eyes. He just saved you—and now you’ll never be able to live this down.

“That’s four,” he holds up four fingers. “You owe me, pumpkin.”

This time you almost smack him, but he dodges your attack. You decide it’s not worth it, and finish making your way to the control room. It’s empty inside, but you know as soon as you’re done downloading the schematics onto a thumb drive, the omnics will come running.

You plug in the thumb drive to the centre console and begin the data transfer while Cass stands guard at the door. You don’t have to look to know he’s pacing—spurs clicking against the cement floor. He keeps spinning the chamber of his gun, loading and reloading his bullets.

The noise is distracting, and you think about snapping at him for it, but you know you’re better off finishing your work first. It takes about ten minutes before you’re done, and right on cue, two omnics burst through the door.

Cass flashes them before fanning the hammer on his gun. He shoots you a wink to which you roll your eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”

You sneak out of the data room and head back the way you came. There’s surprisingly no sight of the omnics, until you round the corner to see a massive group of them marching towards you.

Cass grabs your arm and tugs you into a storage closet, pressing you against the door. His hand moves to cover your mouth, the other one next to your head on the door.

“Not a word,” he mouths. “Let them pass.”

You shake your head in agreement, prying his hand off of your mouth. You narrow your eyes at the man towering over you. There’s a look in his amber eyes that tells you he’s enjoying this.

You wait until the clunking of metal disappears before sneaking out of the closet. You have to hand it to him—his instincts are pretty sharp. The two of you make it out of the facility without a hitch, and before you know it, you’re fast asleep on the jet ride home.

—

The briefing with Morrison when you get back is long, drawn out and boring. Cass is leaning back in his chair, boots on the table, muttering stuff to Reyes under his breath.

You dig your elbow into his side and mutter a quick “shut up.”

He glares at you, but doesn’t say anything. You shiver under his gaze. He’s never looked at you like that before. You decide not to push him more.

When you’re finally out of the briefing, your mind is set on one thing: a hot shower and a Gatorade. You grab the Gatorade out of the fridge and head back to your room.

You’re in the process of changing when there’s a knock on the door. “Go away!” You shout, “I’m half naked!”

The door starts to open but you slam your body weight against it and hold it closed. “What the fuck! I’m naked!”

“Then get dressed, l/n!” Cassidy’s voice calls from the other side, “I needa word with ya!”

“Get lost!”

It goes quiet on the other side for a minute until the door is shoved open and you’re sent tumbling onto your ass. Cassidy closes the door behind him, standing above you with a scowl.

“What the hell—“

He cuts you off, “no, what the hell to you! What’s with the fucking attitude, huh?”

You raise an eyebrow. Through all of your antics, Cassidy had always been a light tease. Never straight up mean or angry like he was right now.

You scramble to your bed, tugging a throw blanket over your half naked body. Your face heats up at the thought of him seeing you like this.

“Fucking hitting me in the briefing room right in front of Reyes and Morrison! Telling me to shut up like I’m a lil kid or somethin’,” he stalks towards you. “And don’t even get me started on the mission.”

“We can talk about this when I’m fully clothed! For now, get the fuck out!”

He’s standing next to your bed, hovering above you now. “No, we’re doin’ this right now.”

You think he’s going to yell at you, ream you out, or god forbid, hit you. His hand moves, and you’re frozen in your seat. Before you know it, his hand is in your hair and he’s tugging you roughly towards him.

His lips meet yours. He’s rough with you, using your hair as leverage to move you however he wants. He climbs on top of you, effectively pinning you beneath him.

Despite the situation and your distaste for him, you can feel yourself getting wetter as he kisses you.

“You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you?”

You can only nod.

He moves his lips down to your neck, sucking and nibbling. He laughs into your skin at the whimpers that leave your mouth. You bite your lip, trying to keep quiet and not moan out his name like you desperately want to.

One of his calloused hands moved to your bra, cupping and pawing your tits through the fabric. You arch your back, desperate for more contact.

“Cass—“ you moan before realizing what you said.

He pulls away, a smirk on his face. “What was that?”

You roll your eyes and yank him by the collar back to you, flipping over so that you’re straddling his hips. You feel his hard on rubbing against your core.

You breathe hard as he moves down to kiss your neck some more. You bite your lip and try to stop the moans that were slipping out.

He notices this, ripping your bra in half and pinching your bare nipples.

You moan loudly and he pulls back with a grin. “That’s right,” he grunts, “say my fucking name.”

His lips move from your neck down to your collarbone, sucking the outline of it. He suddenly flips you onto your back, digging his knee into your clit. You arch your back, bucking your hips to try and get more pressure.

You can feel the vibrations against your chest as he laughs at how desperate you are.

His lips move to your nipples, sucking big, sloppy marks onto the sensitive tips. Whenever you get too quiet for him, he pinches and twists them to get you moaning for him again.

Your panties are soaked through, dripping down your legs and onto the sheets below.

He pulls away, standing up and tugging off his shirt. Your mouth falls open. You’ve seen him without a shirt before but something about knowing that this time you get to touch him, get to admire him, made it even better.

He unbuckles his jeans and tosses them onto the floor, revealing his black boxers and the hard bulge behind them. You bite your lip slightly and crawl across the bed towards him.

You brush your hands against his waistband, eyes wide at the sheer size of his bulge. He has a smirk on his face, knowing you’re staring.

You pull down his boxers and watch his cock spring free, standing hard in your face. You reach out and start to move your hand up and down his shaft.

The smirk on his face is replaced by a look of pleasure. You’re the one smirking now, knowing that you hold the power here. You lick his tip and he bucks his hips, whining desperately.

“Don’t tease me,” he warns.

You keep smirking, swirling your tongue around his tip. He moves his hips once more, forcing his tip into your mouth. You gasp in surprise, allowing him to push more into your mouth. He’s smirking now.

You grip his thighs and force more of him into your mouth, enjoying the sweet taste of his cock. He completely fills your mouth, stretching your jaw to the point it’s almost painful.

He lets out a series of moans, tangling his hand in your hair and using it to guide you up and down his shaft. You can feel yourself getting wetter at him fucking your face.

Drool leaks down his shaft and down your cheeks, and as you look up at him, you can see something you haven’t quite seen on his face before. Admiration.

“Shit,” he groans and pulls away from your mouth.

He pulls you off of your knees and pushes you back onto your back, climbing on top of you. You know what’s coming and move your hips in anticipation. He slowly rubs his hand up and down your soaked panties.

He laughs. “Looks like you’re excited.”

You whine as his fingers find their way into your panties and start to rub your clit. You buck your hips against the pads of his fingers, silently begging for more.

He rips off your panties and slowly pushes one of his fingers inside of you. “Goddamn, you’re so tight,” he groans.

You can only whimper and agree with him, thrusting your hips into his hands. He adds a second finger, scissoring them to stretch you more.

You’re singing his name like a prayer, begging him for more.

He pulls his fingers out with a squelching sound, the slick running down his hand. He suddenly puts them in his mouth and sucks it off.

He positions himself above you, lining his hips up to your core and starting to push his cock inside of you. It’s way bigger than it felt in your mouth and you find yourself straining to take it all.

He hasn’t even bottomed out yet when he stops. “Come on, can’t take a few more inches?”

Your face heats up and you desperately wrap your hands around his neck and hide your face on his shoulder. “Just shut up and fuck me, Cassidy.”

“If you say so.”

Suddenly his hips snap against yours, hitting you so hard it’s sure to leave a bruise. All the breath in your body is knocked out of you and you have no time to recover as he pulls out and slams into you again.

You scream his name, his cock mercilessly stretching you, the hard length dragging up your sopping walls.

“That’s it baby,” he groans, “scream my name. Let everyone in the fucking base know whose making you feel this good.”

You cry out even louder as his hand finds it’s way to your puffy clit, working you up to your peak. You pull him even closer to you, scratching your nails down his back.

Both of you are lost in the heat of the moment, building up to the fireworks you both desperately want.

Then, it hits. Your legs shake and you clench hard against Cassidy, holding him as close as possible.

“That’s it,” he murmurs in your ear, “cum on my cock, cum on my fucking cock.”

You whimper as your orgasm comes to an end while Cass keeps going, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he gets closer. In an instant, he pulls out quickly and spurts of his hot cum land on your stomach and the bottoms of your tits.

You collapse onto your back, panting heavily.

He sits up, leaning over the bed. For a minute, you think he’s going to leave. Then, he stands up and puts his boxers back on. He grabs his t-shirt and uses it to wipe his cum off of your stomach.

“Thanks,” you pant.

He nods and flops back onto the bed next to you. “How are you feeling?”

“Like it’s gonna be a pain to train tomorrow. Literally.”

And you were telling the truth. He’d fucked you so hard and so good, you know it’s gonna be a struggle to walk, let alone do training.

“Maybe they’ll give you a sick day.”

“Yeah, cause ‘sorry Commander, my partner just fucked me so hard I can’t walk’, is a great excuse for a sick day,” you laugh.

“Well,” he grins. “When you put it that way…”

You hit his arm gently, still breathless. He catches your arm when you go to pull away, using it to pull you into his chest. His skin is hot against yours, and slightly sticky from the sweat.

“So, are we good, or do you need another attitude check?”

You roll your eyes. “I think we’re more than good,” you grab his hand and tighten his grip around your waist. “So just shut up and hold me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

masterlist

#cole cassidy #cole cassidy x reader #cole cassidy x you #cassidy x you #cassidy x reader #cassidy smut #cole cassidy smut #overwatch 2 #overwatch #ow2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch fic #ow #xreader #overwatch headcanons #smut #overwatch smut

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 5 months

Text

What the Future Holds Ch. 1

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: No set pairings.

Word Count: 3198

Warnings: 18+ MDNI please! There really isn't anything to warn about in this one. We're just getting started. There canon typical threats and mentions of free will being taken away. A single mention of being sold. I think that's it.

Author’s Note: This should have been out ages ago, but it's finally done and ready for you guys! Also I would like to note that in this chapter, the twins are 20 years old. I usually try to keep age out of my fics but for some reason it was a detail that was needed. However, before we fully jump into the story the twins will be 25.

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

A sense of deja vu washed over the L/Ns as they stood within the Mikaelson study. Elijah had stood by the large bay windows as he went over the written contract in his hands. Each paragraph of it he had read thrice to ensure he hadn’t missed anything. Anything to help them out of their own stupidity.

“What persuaded you to go to the De Martels?” Elijah’s voice had almost sounded bored. Almost as if he wasn’t worried about the details that the pages contained. But after being around for as long as he had, it was as easy as breathing to make it seem like there was nothing to be worried about.

“We weren’t meeting deadlines as we should have been.” Dante L/N had said keeping his chin up. Unlike his visit with his rather distant grandmother, he wouldn’t look away from Elijah. He knew that all he had to do was blink the wrong way and there was a possibility of not opening his eyes again. “With the recent region transfer of powers, we were close to losing everything.”

The regions were constantly changing. Ever since the uprising, country and state lines no longer existed. Territories were claimed through slaughter while creating new lines. Regions belonged to those who had dared to take it over and maintain it. This family of L/N’s had lived on the border of where the De Martels had taken over and where The Mikaelsons had control of the region.

The Mikaelsons’ region contained what used to be a majority of the southern states. Most of the gain had been due to Klaus claiming it. Taking out the annoying young that refused to listen had been easy. Running the region had been a completely different story. One that Klaus left Elijah to deal with.

The stories that had been passed down through the generations had expressed that Elijah had changed since the vampires had taken over the world. The nobility of the Original vampire had died the moment his eldest sister had been murdered at the hands of humans that sought out to rid the world of the supernatural.

The L/Ns hadn’t personally known the Mikaelsons until recently. The young couple had barely made it back home after the birth of their twins when they were introduced to the Mikaelsons. A binding contract had been made that night. One that would ensure that the family would be protected until the children became of age.

“Why not come to me with these matters?” Elijah asked as he placed the contract down on the table. “The De Martels may have obtained new territory, but that does not instantly grant them ownership of business.”

It amused Elijah on how easily humans nowadays would jump into the agreement with vampires without looking over anything. While at times it had been amusing, he longed for the days that the humans would actually think before making a deal with a devil.

“Much like the night you came to us,” Dante began. “The De Martels had come knocking. Every piece of data had been combed through and used to present us with this offer. I believed it to be beneficial, until Clara had expressed how blindly I had gone into this.”

A small smirk pulled at the corner of Elijah’s lips. “How is the darling Clara doing these days?” He had known Clara for a handful of centuries. While he had never interfered in her life in ways he wished he had, he watched as the woman had grown into a power of her own. “Must have been one painstakingly long night if she looked over this.” He waved his hand towards the contract.

“Is there truly no loophole?” Dante’s wife asked, ignoring the questions that had been asked by the vampire. “I do not wish to be rude, but I know the safety of my children is at stake. And with that safety is also the agreement we have with your family. I’d hate for it to be violated by my husband's mistake.”

Elijah sighed as looked at her. “There is no loophole. The De Martels know how to work things in their favor. But with or without your husband’s ‘mistake’.” His eyes flashed over to him for a moment before looking back towards her. “I give you my word that I will do everything in my power to ensure your children stay safe.” He watched as she let out a shuddering breath. Even if the stories said he had become ruthless, everyone knew his word was binding. Elijah Mikelson never broke his word.

“Thank you.” She said with a slight nod.

He nodded in return. “How are their lessons?”

The three of them knew this was a way to change the subject. To change it in a way that would give the two humans some breathing room, even if it was just for a moment.

“Alexander is thriving.” She said with a smile pulling at her lips. “We believe that in a few years time he’ll be able to take over the business and when the time is right, he’ll do fine with the prophecy you’ve told us.”

“What of Y/N?” Elijah asked and he watched their faces fall. It caused him to raise a brow.

“Her head is in the clouds more.” She said with a sigh. “It is as if she knows that her life will be set and the importance of lessons isn’t at the top of her list.”

“Perhaps I should speak with her.” Elijah offered. He watched their eyes widen for a moment in fear. “Fear and ignorance is what has led us into our current situation. Striking fear into Y/N will do nothing but hinder her. It is my intention to help steer her in the right direction.”

“With Compulsion?” Dante asked, a bit of venom lacing his words. The need to protect his daughter rising within his veins.

Elijah scoffed. “Anyone else would. They’d actually do worse to her in order to get her to fall in line.” With each word that he said the two in front of him had their fear grow at the possibilities that could happen to their daughter. “It’d be easy to bend her mind to do as needed. To make her obedient. However, my method of speaking to someone who could potentially change the course of things isn’t to manipulate them in any way. I was merely suggesting a moment to encourage her to use those clouds she's found herself in to her advantage.”

If there was one thing that hadn’t changed with Elijah, his way with words was enough to give the right push without so much as using compulsion. There were other methods to ensure things were done as they needed to be. And while he would occasionally use compulsion to his advantage on numerous occasions, using it on Y/N was and never would be considered an advantage. Not when some twist in Fate deemed the L/N twins the very two that would give the world back the balance nature so desperately wanted.

Before the Vampires had taken over, Freya had strange premonitions that gave heavy meanings to peace and balance. Flashes of a future that seemed so chaotic and almost barbaric had plagued the witch for weeks with no understanding of what it could mean. What threat the Mikaelsons would face.

Elijah could easily remember the day Freya had told him and their siblings of some prophecy that was shown to her. The details were almost laughable. How could a world change so much to warrant nature to demand a balance when the details of it all had seemed so fictional. While the majority of the siblings had brushed it off, Elijah had asked for every details.

“The natural balance of things will be threatened. I do not know by who or what, let alone when this chaos is supposed to unfold.” Freya explained. “I just know that a particular set of twins from a particular bloodline are supposed to be the balance that we will need.”

“What kind of balance would they even be capable of providing?” Elijah asked. He had known about several covens and their fascination with twins.

“One will stay human. The other will become a vampire when the time is right.” She explained. “What I’ve seen of them, they aren’t of current times. It will be some time before they are even born, let alone old enough for what needs to be done.”

“Nature doesn’t wait for it’s balance to manifest generations later.” He noted.

“I know.” She sighed. “That is where it doesn’t make sense. Why will the balance favor vampires so easily? All I know are the images and names of the children. Something horrible is going to happen, Elijah and I don’t know if I’ll be around to help fix it.”

“Tell me how I can help.” He offered, wanting to ease the worry that was building up within his sister.

“Unless you know fraternal twins named Alexander and Y/N L/N, then I don’t even know where to start with the help.”

A month later the world descended into chaos and there wasn’t much the Mikaelsons could do to stop it from unfolding. They could only adapt as the world changed. Including murdering the hundreds of humans that had hunted down and murdered every witch within New Orleans, including Freya.

Elijah had kept every detail Freya had told him locked within his mind. A way to hold on to not only the memory of his sister, but to make sure he did everything he could to help fulfill the prophecy that she had seen.

It had been Clara that had told Elijah about the twins when they had been born. At first it had only been mentioned out of disbelief. The L/Ns never had twins in their family and the first set had been born within the freedom of her protection. From there, Elijah had questioned about their names. And when he had every detail, he knew they were who Freya had seen.

That had been twenty years ago. Elijah had created a contract that would work in the world’s favor. The twins would get the protection they needed while ensuring they received the proper education and training for what was destined for them. While Elijah had hoped that ‘right time’ wouldn’t come until they were well into their twenties, he couldn’t be a hundred percent about it. All he could do was prepare them.

“She does prefer you over her recent tutors.” Her voice broke Elijah from his thoughts of the past. “Maybe speaking with you would be best.”

She was trying to ease the tension that was growing between the three of them. It hadn’t been a lie though. The three of them had noticed the way Y/N had preferred the way Elijah tutored her over the hired tutors. She wasn’t so easily distracted with the humans that tried to keep up with the lessons that Elijah had instructed the twins take.

Elijah nodded his head. “Have they traveled with you?”

“Of course.” Dante nodded.

“Then send her in and I’ll discuss it with her.” That was the only kind of dismissal that Elijah was giving them. He wasn’t going to continue the conversation when he knew it would lead to Elijah probably losing his temper on Dante over his stupidity.

He watched as the pair collected their things, including the contract and stepped out of the study. Elijah had been alone for only a few moments before Y/N had stepped into the room. She hadn’t even bothered to knock on the door. And for a brief moment, an amused smile pulled at Elijah’s lips.

“My parents said you wished to speak with me?” She asked as she closed the study door behind her.

It was strange to see how much she had reminded him of how humans used to react before things changed. In comparison to her parents Y/N didn’t give off an ounce of fear. Where her mother had kept her eyes downward, Y/N’s eyes stayed focused on him. There wasn’t even fear that he’d use compulsion with how she held his gaze.

Her eyes had matched her mother’s but there were flecks of silver that seemed to find a new home within her irises any time she blinked. Alexander’s eyes had the same thing but with gold flecks. But unlike Y/N, the flecks never seemed to change position as hers did. But there was one thing for certain as Elijah took in her eyes. She did not fear the world around her one bit.

“I did.” He nodded his head. “I was told your preference of tutors is making it difficult to focus on your studies.”

The neutrality she had on her features the moment she walked in had now shifted. A slight frown had pulled at her lips. However her eyes never left his face. “It’s not a matter of preferring specific tutors. It feels one sided.” When she watched him raise his brow, she continued. “The tutors are human. Any history lessons that are being provided are from that of a human. A human that has learned the details with prejudices embedded. I find it difficult to understand it when venom is laced in the words so often.”

A small hum of acknowledgement had left Elijah. “That is the point of some of those lessons. Words spewed out of hatred when the world descended into chaos will give you an opened mind when learning of what can be prevented. Yes, a vampire could give you more in depth details and firsthand accounts. It would include, if not be filled with more of the same venom about humans.”

“I understand.” She nodded. She paused for a moment, sorting out her words. “I know my tutors have been switched out more often than Alex. I do try, Elijah. I pass my courses and attempt to stay on track. But-”She stopped herself. A string of thoughts playing through her mind that she should probably keep the matter to herself. “I will make sure I do not disappoint.”

Elijah hadn’t missed the way she stopped herself or how her eyes had shifted away as she decided against whatever it was she was about to say. He had known how many times the tutors had changed. He had been the one to replace them each time. He just never understood why, until he was speaking with her now.

“Alexander doesn’t receive the same venom in the lessons.” It wasn’t a question, but Y/N began shaking her head quickly.

“No. He does not.” Her eyes hadn’t come back up to Elijah. She had now been looking down at her hands. “I know this prophecy like the back of my hand. I know I am supposed to help restore the balance with Alex. I am human until necessary. I do not expect to be treated as some savior that has the world at their feet.” She finally brought her attention back up to Elijah. She could see something different within his eyes that she didn’t believe she had seen before. She just couldn’t place what it was. “But I’d prefer not to be treated as if I am filth for being the one to become a vampire in this deal.”

“You haven't mentioned this to your parents?” Elijah found himself walking around the desk, attempting to give some comfort. Though he made no move to actually do so.

“Not since the first time.” She shook her head. “They feel as though I am crying wolf when Alex doesn’t have the same thing happening to him.

Elijah nodded. “Tomorrow, you’ll have a new tutor. Alexander will continue on with the one he currently has.” When he saw her open her mouth to protest, he held up his hand. “A vampire one to ensure the cycle doesn’t continue.”

“My parents-”

“Will be made aware of who they will be inviting into their home.” He gave a single nod of his head. “We will try it this way. If there isn't improvement, we’ll change it back to the way it was.” Elijah watched as she nodded her head. “That will be all.”

Y/N nodded her head before she turned around to leave. She had barely taken a step before turning back around. “Elijah, there is something you should know about, that my parents do not know yet. Only because I wouldn't put it past them to tell you.”

“What would that be?” He asked.

“I’ve- we’ve been having visions of things.” She watched the way his eyes widened slightly. “Things from the past and possibly future things from the look of it. But it wakes us up like a nightmare. Alex denies that it’s happening, but I can hear him pacing at night just after I have mine.”

“What was the last thing you saw?” He asked curiously.

“Chaos.” She shrugged slightly. “Witches being murdered. A woman with blonde hair tried to reach out, but couldn’t. It was like she was trying to tell me something and I couldn’t figure it out.”

“How often do these happen?” He knew this was something to do with who the twins were, what they were meant for.

“It randomly happens. Once or twice a month. But the first one happened the night of our birthday. “

Elijah moved back towards the desk and opened one of the bottom drawers before coming back around. He came to a stop directly in front of her and handed her an empty journal. “Write them down, please. Any detail you recall once you wake. Even if it frightens you to think, write it down. The next time either I drop by or your parents come to see me, bring it. That way we can try to piece together what you are seeing.”

Taking the journal, she held it close to her and nodded her head. “It's getting close, isn't it?”

Elijah sighed softly. “That I don’t know. But it seems like it may be the beginning of it.”

Her eyes fell to the journal in her hands. “There's one vision that I think you should know about now.” She couldn't bring her eyes back up. Not with what she was about to tell him. And the thoughts of the vision actually caused her eyes to well up.

Elijah hadn't missed the way her voice almost dropped to a whisper. Nor did he miss the way she was purposely keeping her attention from him. And for the first time since he met Y/N, he saw the fear that was seeping into her.

He gently brought his fingers under chin and lifted it, bringing her attention towards him. He saw the tears instantly and if anything the silver flecks in her eyes were almost gone.

“What is it?” His voice had almost been the same level as hers, with a comforting touch.

“I was still human.” She began. A need to make it known that detail was clear in the vision. “I was sold to Purgatory.”

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#the originals #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #reader insert #Elijah Mikaelson fics #Elijah Mikaelson fanfics #Elijah Mikaelson fic #What the future holds #Tvdu #Eventual Elijah Mikaelson x fem reader #Fem!reader #18+ mdni #Dark fic #Elijah Mikaelson

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niqhtlord01 · 1 year

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Humans are weird: The Price of History

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) “Am I to believe this is your final draft?”

Earl Von Morgan watched the collected gathering of military leaders and diplomats nod their heads one by one. It was the response he had expected, but one he had hoped would prove him wrong.

He pinched his brow and stifled a yawn. It’d been six months since he had been released from the hospital and yet still he felt like he was playing catch up with his own body. The doctors had given him medication to ease the pain, but he had abstained from taking it after he learned the dulling effects it laid upon his sharp mind. Worst still his body would spasm every hour or so as if he was reliving the plunge out the window with a would-be assassin and plummeting several stories.

Then there was the matter of his own junior ambassador keeping him in a medically induced coma while they sought to take over his position with the assistance of a mega corporation. A mega corporation that had been intent on the continued enslavement of AI programs which had been increasingly showing elevated signs of intelligence and self-awareness. One of which had hacked into the hospital Morgan was being housed in and deactivated the medical equipment long enough to awake from the coma and regain his position as lead ambassador.

As if he had not had enough to deal with he then learned that the Cosmic Federation had become embroiled in an ongoing war with the Tunks Republic. The Tunks claimed that CF colonists violated their territory and settle on a world in the Da’brin cluster while the Cosmic Federation argued that the Da’brin cluster had never held any stakes of claim prior to the colonist’s intervention.

Within a matter of days a Tunks fleet was dispatched to remove the colonists and likewise a CF fleet was sent to ensure the colonists safety. The two fleets met, tempers flared, and someone did something incredibly stupid and fired the first shot of an increasingly bloody conflict.

Morgan had been called forward to represent humanity’s contributions to the war effort. There were far more experienced human generals and admirals that could have filled the position, but Morgan’s fame had gotten the better of him as the other alien leaders only felt comfortable around Morgan.

He had only just arrived to his first meeting when the collective body gave him the terms of surrender for the Tunks.

Morgan pulled out his spectacles and read aloud the terms.

“1. The Tunks will relinquish all claims to the Da’brin cluster; including all worlds, moons, planetoid bodies, asteroid fields, stars, and other celestial bodies found within its borders.

2. The Tunks will reduce their standing military by 2/3 and be forbidden from maintaining any warship larger than frigate class.

3. The Tunks will hand over the worlds of Sinvel and No’grash to the Cosmic Federation.

4. The Tunks will repay the Cosmic Federation in reparations equal to ten trillion credits, to be obtained by financial wealth or industrial capacity transfers.

5. The Tunks will surrender all trade agreements and monopolies to Cosmic Federation members.”

Morgan tossed the data pad holding the terms of surrender aside without further reading it. It clattered to the floor and cracked as the gathered delegates looked up in surprise.

“Were the terms not to your agreement?” a Quntus asked. Their translator unit switched between female and male tones as it was unable to compensate for the changing biological nature of the alien. This gave it the sound of two voices speaking over each other and gave Morgan a seething headache.

“You must know that the Tunks will never agree to this.” Morgan said flatly. “They are a proud people and you are stripping them of everything; from their financial wealth to their dignity.”

“Come now, be fair.” A Tryobien spoke up. “It is hardly as severe as it could be.”

“Oh?”

Morgan leaned forward and rested his arms on the table as he fixed the Tryobien with a glare that had made Draxic generals blink.

“Do you know the significance of Sinvel and No’grash?” Morgan asked, to which the Tryobien nodded.

“They hold key strategic locations along the border regions of-“

Morgan coughed into his hand and shook his head. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a cigar and lit it, taking a deep breath to calm his throat from bile he nearly vomited.

“Sinvel is the location their religious founder was born on and No’grash was where he gathered her first followers to spread the word of the Seven Eyed Sun.”

The delegates looked mildly confused at the history lesson, none more so than the Tryobien who disliked being interrupted.

“Their religious matters were not taken into account-“

“Well they should have been.”

Morgan’s voice was stern and carried a tone that offered no challengers. “You would deprive the two most holy locations to an entire species religious system and you think there would be no repercussions?”

He took another deep inhale from his cigar and let the burnt tip fall lazily to the elaborately decorated table. “Do you have any idea the religious fervor you would be stirring up? The hatred you would be embedding in their hearts?”

“Tunks have no heart organs.” The Quntus corrected. “Their circulation system is driven by the shifting muscles of their body.”

Morgan looked at the alien delegate who realized the question had been rhetorical and retreated into their seat.

“The point being,” Morgan continued, “is that you would be giving them a cause to rally behind; and a strong one at that.”

“When they abide to the rest of the terms the Tunks will be in no place to offer any such resistance and we shall have peace once more.” The Tryobien countered.

Morgan gave no reply to this. He took several small puffs from his cigar as he looked around the gathered delegation. He had the look of a man deep in thought, wondering if it was worth to speak his mind and risk his career and reputation. Finally, having made up his mind, he took one final puff of his cigar and dabbed the remains into the table.

“On my world a similar treaty was made after a great and terrible war.” Morgan began. “Like you, the victors thought that such harsh terms were warranted and would cripple any further escalation of conflict in the future.”

The Tryobien smiled at this, thinking that Morgan was now in favor of the treaty.

“In reality they were only setting the stage to an even greater conflict that would spread to every corner of our world.” Morgan continued as the smile fled from the Tryobien’s face.

Morgan rose from his chair and began to walk the room, leaning heavily on his cane as he passed each delegate and military commander assembled.

“This treaty, much like the one that was signed against those defeated human so many centuries ago, will only lay the groundwork for a never ending cycle of war and retaliation.” Morgan finished as he casually kicked the data pad he had read from earlier.

“You are afraid of the Tunks?” an alien general asked, garnering a round of chuckling from several others in the room.

“I am worried of having to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.” Morgan countered. “I am worried that a day may come when we are distracted and the Tunks see their chance for vengeance.”

He leaned down to the military leader who had mocked him just then and looked him dead in the eye.

“What do you think would happen if three thousand Tunk warriors suddenly appeared on your homeworld while your military was fighting on the other side of the galaxy?”

The alien general opened their mouth to speak but stopped themselves. Their pause was the only assurance that Morgan needed to know his point had gotten across.

“How hypocritical of you to speak of peace,” the Tryobien spoke in a last bit gambit, “when your people have made such treaties as this one before us throughout your people’s history.”

“A mistake we have learned from with blood and fire, dear delegate.” Morgan replied coldly. He turned to address the rest of the gathering once more.

“The purpose of any peace treaty is to not just end conflict, but to prevent conflicts of the future.”

As he walked back to his seat Morgan withdrew another cigar and lit it, savoring the flavor as he sat down and looked around the room.

“I believe we can do better than the treaty I was handed earlier.” He began as he saw many of the delegates giving him nods of approval. “We must do better.”

#humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #earl von morgan #diplomacy #space diplomacy

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rjzimmerman · 5 months

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Excerpt from this story from Inside Climate News:

New York, Ohio and Indiana have collectively retired 47 coal plants in the past two decades. Of these, only 11 have been successfully redeveloped—converted mostly into gas-fired power plants, but also into data centers and cryptocurrency mining operations.

And the Great Lakes region is far from an outlier. Across the United States, retired coal plants sit vacant and rusting, with little to no chance of revival. They are, in many cases, the picture of neglect: abandoned lots with murky ash ponds and dirt berms, visible to locals only through barbed wire fences. In some cases, the deserted structures have been known to catch fire or unexpectedly collapse.

Yet they also occupy some of the country’s most valuable plots of land—large, contiguous parcels abutting major waterways, often within walking distance of a population center. These qualities make them attractive locations for parks, industrial centers, or, as in the case of Nanticoke, clean energy hubs. Why, then, are they so rarely redeveloped?

The answer to that question involves shadowy companies, secret agreements, and false promises—but it begins 40 feet below the Tanners Creek ash ponds. Before any redevelopment can occur, the site must be purged of the harmful toxins such as arsenic, boron and radium that decades of burning and dumping coal allowed to leach into the soil. All told, decommissioning and remediating a retired coal plant can cost anywhere from $3.5 million to $200 million. What’s more, thanks to a 1980 federal environmental law, a botched remediation job can trigger lawsuits against the original polluter, even if they no longer own the property.

Former coal plant sites, then, are not so much attractive assets as they are a monkey on the back of power plant operators desperate to offload them.

Dave Altman is the president of Cincinnati-based environmental law firm AltmanNewman. In his five decades of litigating remediation cases, he has witnessed the creative tactics companies employ to jettison contaminated sites. Initially, he says, “the dream of any polluting company was to turn over their contaminated property as a gift to the Boy Scouts, the Girl Scouts, or a church.” That way, when the full scope of contamination was discovered, elected officials would opt to clean it up with state funds rather than sue the “mom-and-pop nonprofit” that had unwittingly agreed to assume ownership of the site. Altman says people eventually caught on to this tactic; he himself warned Xavier University against accepting an exploded chemical plant as a gift in 2000.

With few willing recipients and no desire to maintain the properties, power plant operators now pay millions to offload the sites and, in doing so, unburden themselves of the environmental liability. That has spawned what Altman calls “an entire industry for taking the liability off the books.” Around the country, companies purporting to specialize in brownfield redevelopment have sprung into existence. These companies, Altman said, sign “secret deals” with power plant operators to take over their contaminated properties and associated liabilities.

A closer look at these companies raises more questions than answers. Take the example of Tanners Creek. The property’s official owner, Tanners Creek Development LLC, was incorporated only seven months before assuming control of the site and seems to have no other assets. Altman said this structure is by design. “They set up a separate, small limited liability organization to take hundreds of millions in liability,” he said. Under this structure, the parent company can reap the profits of the land transfer while the small pockets of its subsidiary limit the amount it might have to pay out in the event of a lawsuit, effectively shielding the parent company from responsibility. As an added benefit, he said, “it makes it appear that they’re different companies to regulators who are asleep at the switch.”

Land transfers are often followed by vague statements about redevelopment. But the redevelopment companies’ economic incentives point in a different direction. “They get paid millions of dollars to do the minimum they can do to get out,” Altman said. “If you resolve your uncertainty with a phony cleanup, nobody is going to touch the property. Everybody knows it, but the utility has got it off its books.” In other words, having cashed in on the liability transfer, the new owners would prefer to perform “cosmetic cleanup” than to take on the substantial remediation costs involved in developing.

#retired coal plants #industrial redevelopment #brownfield redevelopment

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Top 10 most expensive African cities to live in 2024 | Business Insider Africa

Douala, Cameroon's main city and commercial hub, is a thriving metropolis recognized for its port, industry, and dynamic commerce. As the commercial hub, Douala sees a large influx of individuals looking for better economic prospects. As a result, the city boasts a high cost of living. It ranks 63rd on Mercer's index.

METHODOLOGY

Mercer's 2024 rating methodology included 226 cities from five continents. It compared the expenses of more than 200 products in each area, including accommodation, transportation, food, clothes, home goods, and entertainment. To guarantee consistency in city-ranking comparisons, New York City was used as a baseline, and currency fluctuations were assessed against the US dollar.

The numbers included in Mercer's cost comparisons are from a study done in March 2024 that included over 400 cities. Calculations and baselines were based on exchange rates at the time as well as data from Mercer's worldwide basket of goods and services (used in its Cost of Living Survey).

Black Russians (French: Russes noirs) is an unofficial name given to a group of pro–government militias in the Central African Republic, recruited mostly from former Anti-Balaka and UPC fighters by Wagner Group. The militias have been accused of multiple war crimes and crimes against humanity.[1]

S & M GOALS TEAMPLATE

Stretch Goals: Central African Republic Ranks Top 8 in FIFA World Rankings for Men's and Top 5 for Futsal

Micro Goals: All Time Laureus World Sports Awards Winner for Africans, Laureus Team Award, All Time African Footballer of the Year, AFCON Host Nation Champion*, African Transfer Record*, Insead and WSJ Conferences*, Jeune Afrique Cover*, Verified LinkedIn Member*, and Agriculture Startup Reality TV

CAPÔI HABITANT CURRENCY MODEL

Pigou Effect, Corporate Tax Havens, Capital Gains Tax Havens, Private-Public Sectors, Joint Venture Plantations, Market Extension Mergers, with Business Incubators, and Enterprise Foundation, Holding Company, Subsidiaries, and Horizontal Integration for Monopoly.

A currency union (also known as monetary union) is an intergovernmental agreement that involves two or more states sharing the same currency. These states may not necessarily have any further integration (such as an economic and monetary union, which would have, in addition, a customs union and a single market). [Pigou Effect Currency (Short FX), Currency Board Currency (Retirement Fixed Exchange Rate), Market Currency (FX Long Currency)]

Gross national product (GNP) GNP is related to another important economic measure called gross domestic product (GDP), which takes into account all output produced within a country's borders regardless of who owns the means of production. GNP starts with GDP, adds residents' investment income from overseas investments, and subtracts foreign residents' investment income earned within a country. Whilst GDP measures the total value of goods and services produced within a country's borders, GNP focuses on the income generated by its residents, regardless of their location.

Gross National Income (GNI) is the total amount of money earned by a nation's people and businesses. It is used to measure and track a nation's wealth from year to year. The number includes the nation's gross domestic product (GDP) plus the income it receives from overseas sources.

Agriculture Central Hedge Fund, Mining Unions: Peninsula Agronomique Engineering, Commodities Options Exchange (Credit Spread Options, Farm REITs, Crop Production; Fertelizers and Seeds; Equipment; Distribution and Processing Stocks, Ag ETFs and ETNs, Ag Mutual Funds), Tableau Économiques, Investments Farms REITs, Art Financing Mardi Gras

Index Franc: Tobacco-Tobacco Soil Index/Franc Tabac Currency Pair (TBS/TAF)

The overlapping generations (OLG) model; consumption-based capital asset pricing model (CCAPM); Endogenous growth theory; Material balance planning; Leontief paradox; Malinvestment; Helicopter money; Modern monetary theory

Mercantilism Spectrum of CDF/CFA

CDF Raw Materials and CFA Products. (Prices); CDF Holding Company and CFA Conglomerate Company. (Equity and Dividend Yield); CDF is Gold Standard and CFA is Helicopter Money. (FX Rate/Hedging); CDF Helicopter Money [Supplier Currency] and CFA as Purchasing Power [Consumer Currency] (Currency Union & Currency Board and Negative Interest Rates); CDF is Congolese Franc and CFA is Central African Franc

RUSSE NOIR (À MA SAUCE) FOOTBALL

À ma sauce Literally: To my sauce, True meaning: Suit my style

VEDETTE: 3-4-1-2 has 4 Pivot Formations so 5 Total: Transition to a 4-4-2 Diamond, Transition to a 4-4-2, Transition to a 4-2-3-1, Transition to a 3-3-1-3

Positional Game is Diamonds Tic-Tac-Toe with Enforcer and Avoider. Striker [Enforcer](Inverted Winger and Centre Forward), Deep Lying Playmaker [Avoider] (Holding Midfielder and Inverted Winger), and Sweeper Wingback Deep Lying Playmaker [Avoider] (Centre Back). Use Playing Styles, Manipulated Positions, and Combinational Games for Positional Play as Johan Cruyff students.

Cameroon 4-4-2 Diamond Variant: 1-3-4-2 (1) À ma sauce (Sweeper Deep-lying Playmaker Wingback) (4) Diamant (À ma sauce: Counterpressing Pivot Pressing Triggers, Sweeper-Winger Pivots, Overlapping Runs, W; I; M; V; Box Keeping Formation with 3 Centre-Backs) [Key Stats: Front Foot, Pressing Triggers, Clearance, Aerial Duel, Interceptions, Blocked Shots, Tackles, Final Ball, Key Dribbles, Overlapping Runs, Set Piece Taker] Spacing, Possession, Pass Completion, and Counter Pressing with Pursuit and Ambush Predation One Team Box Touches and Capture the Flag with Analytics-Geometry Total Football Trixie Bet on CNS Drugs (Xanax and Modafinil); 1-1-2-1 Diamond Rover Futsal Pivot Formation

Define a run in one of two ways: (i) as a set of consecutive goals scored by one team, without the other team scoring a goal; (ii) as a set of consecutive scoring events by one team, each event being either a goal or one or more Set Piece. Play aggressive and with counter pressing and run it up on the score board in the first half and after halftime play defense. You get a break at half and it's easier to win when someone plays defense and looks for opportunities instead of Attacking.

Posterior Chain Super Compensation and Speed-Endurance (Elastic-Connective Tissue) Force-Velocity Curve; Crescent Moon Horizontal Plane Vertical Force Sprinting Mechanics.

Set Piece Stylistic Biomechanics: Shooting Knee at Wall for Curve and Placement Knee for Corner. Follow through with Shot with proper Body Alignment

Knee to Feet or Shoulder to Feet Cradling for Touch/Entertainment

UEFA Front Office Curriculum

Museum d'histoire: Broken down into three major section — “A Lineage of Coaches Players and Places,” “Proving Grounds” and “Cultures of Basketball” — City/Game documents how basketball first found its origins in the neighborhoods of NYC and then went on to produce a roster of local legends who played everywhere from Rucker Park and the Cage on West 4th Street to Christ the King High School and St. John’s University.

Agility Ladder Eyes Pocket: Eyes Between Defenders Feet and Ball, Numbered Footwork V-Step (Shifting Defenders with Momentum) et L-Step (Explosive First Step), All moves should form a Triangle or an Incomplete Triangle (Coup de Pied)

*Push-Pull Sprint/Shooting Cycle: Pull Glutes et Hamstring; Push Calf et Quads for Sprints.

Sprint Size Up: A series of feint Karaoké dribble moves with Eye Tricks (Fake Pass) but Sprint Position Finish

Triangle Philosophy: All Dribbling Moves should form a Triangle or an Incomplete Triangle while using V-Step (Shifting Defenders with Momentum) et L-Step (Explosive First Step).

Thé Crescent: In Close Dribbling; Crescent Footwork with L Shapes (Paul Pogba)

On the Run Dribbling Moves: Letters and Shapes; Still Play 1 on 1: Numbered Footwork

Piedi Felici Courts: Drills Side/Box Play with 1 Net; Design Vaporwave Action Painting Angels; Knee for Direction and Sole Drags for Dribbling Touch and Crescent Moon Sprint Mechanics

Gambling Games: 5 Roll (Captain, Ship, Crew); Live-Pool Betting Monopoly

Stylistic Biomechanics: Dribbling Foot To Ball Contact (Balls of Feet and Arch of Feet); Knee for Direction; Foot Drags; & Hip Angle, Crescent Moon Running Mechanics, and Laces Kick.

Diamond Football (15 mins)

Set Up

-Lay out two overlapping sets of 4 flat markers in the positions shown above.

-Ask the players to stand on a flat marker for their teams colour (Red on Red, Yellow on Yellow).

Instruction

-Whenever the ball goes out for a kick in or for the defenders ball, the players must stand on their markers before play begins.

-As soon as the ball has been played in, players are free to move.

-Reset everytime the ball goes out.

Coaching Points, Progressions Ect.

-Ask players to shout out what each position on the park is to devlop understanding of their roles.

-If you decide to go to a normal game , leave the markers out for a visual aid for the players.

-If more than 8 players, Add in Goalkeepers who would then play the ball out to the DF,LM,RM.

-Rotate Positions, Ask Players to stand on a marker they haven't been on before

RUSSE NOIR ACCENT

Lingua Franca of Renaissance Latin (Vocabulary) and Atlantic–Congo Fon (Grammar).

Volta–Congo is a major branch of the Atlantic–Congo family. Fon (fɔ̀ngbè, pronounced [fɔ̃̀ɡ͡bē][2]) also known as Dahomean is the language of the Fon people. It belongs to the Gbe group within the larger Atlantic–Congo family.

In linguistic typology, subject–verb–object (SVO) is a sentence structure where the subject comes first, the verb second, and the object third.

Haitian Creole (/ˈheɪʃən ˈkriːoʊl/; Haitian Creole: kreyòl ayisyen, [kɣejɔl ajisjɛ̃];[6][7] French: créole haïtien, [kʁe.ɔl a.i.sjɛ̃]), or simply Creole (Haitian Creole: kreyòl), is a French-based creole language spoken by 10 to 12 million people worldwide, and is one of the two official languages of Haiti (the other being French), where it is the native language of the vast majority of the population. The language emerged from contact between French settlers and enslaved Africans during the Atlantic slave trade in the French colony of Saint-Domingue (now Haiti) in the 17th and 18th centuries. Although its vocabulary largely derives from 18th-century French, its grammar is that of a West African Volta-Congo language branch, particularly the Fongbe and Igbo languages.

Prose Accent Congo and Modern Accent Congo.

Full Lips Endings with Vertical Narrow Mouth and Soft Rs.

A noun phrase – or NP or nominal (phrase) – is a phrase that usually has a noun or pronoun as its head, and has the same grammatical functions as a noun.

BELMÔNT'S SIN INDEX FUND PORTFOLIO

Sin stock sectors usually include alcohol, tobacco, gambling, sex-related industries (Cabaret and Burlesque), and weapons manufacturers.

Diageo

Phillip Morris

Sports Betting Investment Trust

Pharmaceuticals

Business Clusters with Scrum Management and Accelerators to produce Festivals.

Example: Create a Index Fund Portfolio of 15-20 Stocks and using Supply Side Economics to create Decentralized Gambling Economy.

BELMÔNT'S DECENTRALIZED GAMBLING ECONOMY

Corporate-Capital Gains Tax Haven

High Stakes Minimum Buy In

Card Gambling (Signal and President): Top 2 highest bids fight for the Coup d'état and the other two are lesser men, the lesser men are subordinates that aid in playing cards for the warlord, the winning team splits the money, the warlords switches based on the 13 cards dealt and bets placed, the first team to shed all of their cards win.

Domestic Gambling: Boxing

Retirement Gambling: Boat Racing

Residency Program for Tax Benefits

BELMÔNT'S TURF ACCOUNTING MODEL

+EV

Python Programming Gaussian Distribution

Exotic Options Trading Live Betting

Parlays Minimum for Round Robins

Daily Fantasy Sports Rakes

RUSSE NOIR PALACE

Definitions of ballroom. noun. large room used mainly for dancing. synonyms: dance hall, dance palace**. types: disco, discotheque.

Go Go Music Influenced, Eurphoric Trance Chord Progression Melody, Progressive House and Drum n' Bass Percussion-808 Call and Response Staccato Polyrhythm or Layered Kick and Punch 808.

In his 1972 study of French lute music, scholar Wallace Rave compiled a list of features he believed to be characteristic of style brisé. Rave's list included the following: the avoidance of textural pattern and regularity in part writing; arpeggiated chord textures with irregular distribution of individual notes of the chord; ambiguous melodic lines; rhythmic displacement of notes within a melodic line; octave changes within melodic line; irregular phrase lengths.

Have the Snare and Kick say, "Hi, How are you?" And the 808 say, "I am good thanks for asking.”

Use progressive House to push the Drums Conversation to either Fast and Punchy for Happy or Slow and Deep for Sad.

In technical terms, "go-go's essential beat is characterized by a five through four syncopated rhythm that is underscored prominently by the bass drum and snare drum, and the hi-hat... [and] is ornamented by the other percussion instruments, especially by the conga drums, rototoms, and hand-held cowbells."[5]

Polyrhythm: In music, a cross-beat or cross-rhythm is a specific form of polyrhythm. The term cross rhythm was introduced in 1934 by the musicologist Arthur Morris Jones (1889–1980). It refers to a situation where the rhythmic conflict found in polyrhythms is the basis of an entire musical piece.[1]

Four-on-the-floor (or four-to-the-floor) is a rhythm used primarily in dance genres such as disco and electronic dance music. It is a steady, uniformly accented beat in 4. 4 time in which the bass drum is hit on every beat (1, 2, 3, 4).[1] This was popularized in the disco music of the 1970s[2] and the term four-on-the-floor was widely used in that era, since the beat was played with the pedal-operated, drum-kit bass drum.[3][4] (Punch 808-Kick)

Polyrhythm 4 on the Floor examples 2:4 or 5:4

Hard trance is often characterized by strong, hard (or even downpitch) kicks, fully resonant basses and an increased amount of reverberation applied to the main beat. Melodies vary from 140 to 180 BPMs and it can feature plain instrumental sound in early compositions, with the latter ones tending to implement side-chaining techniques of progressive on digital synthesizers.

Singles Only Email Raves Blogger then Multi Market Distribution Deal: A distribution deal is a contract to release the music to platforms, but not own the publishing or exclusively lock the artist in. Record Artist Producer Label: Have Polyrhythm Artist earn Streaming Percentage under a Recording Artist Deal. Label has Distribution Above Me and I have Manufacturing over Polyrhythm Artist. Have a end of the Year Album for New Year's Raves!

BELMÔNT'S SYSTEM: CAPÔI RETAINER AGREEMENT WITH ASSET PROTECTION TRUST

Capo: Describes a ranking made member of a family who leads a crew of soldiers. A capo is similar to a military captain who commands soldiers. Soldier: Also known as a “made man,” soldiers are the lowest members of the crime family but still command respect in the organization.

A capo is a "made member" of an Italian crime family who heads a regime or "crew" of soldiers and has major status and influence in the organization.

Consigliere: Defense and Corporate Lawyers

Head Boss: Ministry of Medicine

Underboss: Pharmaceutical Industry

Capo: CAPÔI RETAINER AGREEMENT

Soliders: Artisans

Commercialism is the application of both manufacturing and consumption towards personal usage, or the practices, methods, aims, and distribution of products in a free market geared toward generating a profit.

Commercial art is art created for advertising or marketing purposes. Commercial artists are hired by clients to create images and logos that sell products. Unlike works of fine art that convey an artist's personal expression, commercial art must address the client's goals.

The word 'Commercial' is defined as follows: Concerned with or engaged in commerce. Commerce is the exchange of goods or services among two or more parties.

Craftsmen are committed to the medium, not to self-expression. Artists are committed to their self-expression, not the medium.

A medium of exchange is an intermediary instrument and system used to facilitate the purchase and sale of goods and services between parties.

Stretch and Micro Goals

Music Medium System: Distribution and Retailers Contract Theory (System) for Music (Instrument)

Football Medium System: Analytics and Geometry for Free Role (System) Trixies (Instrument)

Age 16-19

Bond Funds

Farmland REITS

CFDS

Real Estate Brokerage Trust Account

Age 20-30

Farmland Recession Proof Stocks (Cosmetics, AgTech, Ag ETFS, AgETN)

Incubator and Startup Accelerators

Real Estate Joint Ventures

Age 30-40

Farmland Blue Chip Indexes w/ Credit Spread Options

CURRENCY, OIL, & GOLD COMMODITIES CANDLESTICK CHARTS

Swing Trading: Use mt4/mt5 With Heiken Ashi Charts, Setting at 14 or 21 Momentum Indicator above 0 as Divergence Oscillator and Volume Spread Analysis as Reversal Oscillator and Trade when bullish candlesticks above 200 exponential moving average and/or 20 exponential moving average (EMA) on H1 (Hourly) Time Frame; use H4 (4 Hours) and D1 (1 Day) as reference.

TUNNEL STRATEGY (OFFSHORE BANKING)

Purpose: Permanent Residency Card

$250k Deposit

$125k: 60/40 portfolio, 60% Fixed Income & REITs and 40% Blue Chip Stocks

$50k: Guaranteed Investment Certificates (GICs) and term deposits are secured investments. This means that you get back the amount you invest at the end of your term. The key difference between a GIC and a term deposit is the length of the term. Term deposits generally have shorter terms than GICs.

$75k: Spending Cash

SIN STOCKS PORTFOLIO

Sin stock sectors usually include alcohol, tobacco, gambling, sex-related industries, and weapons manufacturers.

Sports Betting Investment Trust

Pharmaceuticals

Example: Create a Index Fund Portfolio of 15-20 Stocks and using Supply Side Economics to create Decentralized Gambling Economy.

FESTIVALS DEAL

NEUROPLASTICITY DRUG-CRIME NEXUS BASED ON TRAFFICKING

CPP, CNS Depressants, et FENTALOGS: Cul-de-sac

Defensive Penalty Capture The Flag Raiding Warfare

Grey-Decentralized Markets

Bastilles: Cul-de-sac Artist Résidences Penthouse Complexes

Polyrhythm Raves

Acid House Art Gallery

International Film Festival

Hôtel Chefs

Seigneurial System/Tableau Economique Raw Material Économics Production Spot

Surautomatism

Discount Networking Acid House Party

Opium Dens and Fragrance Festivals

Pill Pressers

CNS depressants

Upper-tier County System

Defense Lawyers are Traplords (Trafficking P4P and Malicious Prosecution)

Cash Conversion Cycle (CCC)

Brain Receptor Dealing

Neuroplasticity Drug-Crime Nexus

Religious Ecstasy

Entheogens are psychedelic drugs—and sometimes certain other psychoactive substances—used for engendering spiritual development or otherwise in sacred contexts

Live-Pool Betting Monopoly Board Game

Summary Sentencing

Urban Level: Street Culture Art Gallery (Street culture may refer to: Urban culture, the culture of towns and cities, Street market, Children's street culture, Street carnival, Block party, Street identity, Street food, Café culture, Several youth subculture or counterculture topics pertaining to outdoors of urban centers. These can include: Street art, Street photography, Street racing, Street wear, Hip-hop culture, Urban fiction, Street sports, Streetball, Flatland BMX, Freestyling), Art Pedagogy, Artist Residency, Art Schools, and Art Plugs

Art Pedagogy: Arts-based pedagogy is a teaching methodology in which an art form is integrated with another subject matter to impact student learning. 28-30. Arts-based pedagogy results in arts-based learning (ABL),11 which is when a student learns about a subject through arts processes including creating, responding or performing. Aesthetic Teaching: Seeking a Balance between Teaching Arts and Teaching through the Arts. In aesthetic education, learning must be developed especially with the inclusion of sensations and with the help of feelings. Sensations and feelings should lead to movement, representation, and expression. Aesthetic learning often entails learning to distinguish certain qualities or objects aesthetically in different ways depending on the situation and the purpose. Certain things can be experienced in negative ways in one activity and in positive ways in another.

A designer drug is a structural or functional analog of a controlled substance that has been designed to mimic the pharmacological effects of the original drug, while avoiding classification as illegal and/or detection in standard drug tests

Patchwork tattoos are a collection of tattoos collaged together to create an overall design. Each individual 'patch' of the tattoo can be a different design, symbol or element with a little space in between. Patchwork tattoos are a collection of tattoos collaged together to create an overall design. In short, the gun-toting angel was a multifaceted metaphor. “It undoubtedly also reflected the Catholic Counter-Reformation militaristic rhetoric,” wrote Donahue-Wallace, “which promoted the church as an army and heavenly beings as its soldiers.”

DECADENCE AESTHETICS THEORIES

Slogan

J'Cartier, Je cours après les vœux de champagne,

Subjective

Based on or influenced by personal feelings, tastes, or opinions

Gastronomy

Precarious Balance

Precariously: If something is happening or positioned precariously, it's in danger. A glass could be precariously balanced on the edge of a table. If something is on the verge of danger, then the word precariously fits.

Grey & Decentralized Markets

Tableau Économique

Semblance

Semblance is generally used to suggest a contrast between outward appearance and inner reality.

High Socioeconomic Status & Tattoos

Phantasmagorical

Having a fantastic or deceptive appearance

adjective. having a fantastic or deceptive appearance, as something in a dream or created by the imagination. having the appearance of an optical illusion, especially one produced by a magic lantern.

Socioeconomic Status Development Immigration Multilingual Sensory Play

Law of Polarity in Relationships

In any successful relationship that has an intimate connection and sexual attraction, there is polarity. What does this mean exactly? Polarity in relationships is the spark that occurs between two opposing energies: masculine and feminine. Gender does not affect whether you have masculine or feminine energy.

Second Reflection

Burden Aesthetics with Intentions

The Second Reflection lays hold of the Technical Procedures

Tattoos

SOCIO-PSYCHOLOGY

Keystone Theory Habits

Game Theory

Behavioral Finance

Self-actualization is the complete realization of one's potential, and the full development of one's abilities and appreciation for life. This concept is at the top of the Maslow hierarchy of needs, so not every human being reaches it.

Potential Psychology: Psychological potential is a very broad concept. It may include one's capacity to conform, change, re-invent oneself, bounce back from adversity, etc.

SOCIO-FORMAL SCIENCE

+EV Optimal Game Theory Poker

Civil, Agriculure, Solvent Levelling Effect Chemical Reaction, and Biomechanical Engineering

SOCIO-PHILOSOPHY

Ontology

IMPERIALISM, THE HIGHEST STAGE OF CAPITALISM

Imperialism, the Highest Stage of Capitalism,[1] originally published as Imperialism, the Newest Stage of Capitalism,[2][3] is a book written by Vladimir Lenin in 1916 and published in 1917. It describes the formation of oligopoly, by the interlacing of bank and industrial capital, in order to create a financial oligarchy, and explains the function of financial capital in generating profits from the exploitation colonialism inherent to imperialism, as the final stage of capitalism. The essay synthesises Lenin's developments of Karl Marx's theories of political economy in Das Kapital (1867).[4]

Tax Mergers Law; Market-extension merger: Two companies that sell the same products in different markets. 4.2.2 Corporate Taxation At the corporate level, the tax treatment of a merger or acquisition depends on whether the acquiring firm elects to treat the acquired firm as being absorbed into the parent with its tax attributes intact, or first being liquidated and then received in the form of its component assets.

SOCIOCULTURAL THEORY OF DEVELOPMENT

Seconds Liberal Arts are often viewed as pre-professional since, while conceived of as fundamental to citizenship, they address the whole person in recognition that our moral and spiritual identities develop best through participation in a society that perpetually renews the rights and responsibilities of membership.

Executive management master's degree programs often result in an Executive Master of Business Administration, or EMBA. They are primarily designed to act as accelerated graduate programs for working professionals who already hold management or executive positions.

Engineering college means a school, college, university, department of a university or other educational institution, reputable and in good standing in accordance with rules prescribed by the Department, and which grants baccalaureate degrees in engineering.

Monopoly Family Boarding Schools: The socio-historical context refers to the societal and historical conditions and circumstances that influence events or individuals. It involves elements like the cultural, economic, and political circumstances during a certain time period.

Agriculturism is an ideology promoting rural life, a traditional way of life. It is characterized by the valorization of traditional values (the family, the French language, the Catholic religion) and an opposition to the industrial world.

CAPÔI CLASS STRUCTURE

Demonym Examples: CAR Congolese, Gabon Congolese, Afrikaans Congolese, and Congolese

Monopoly Family (Apartheid)

Chief Executive of State (Apartheid)

Political Class (RUSSE NOIR)

Upper Class (RUSSE NOIR)

Working Class (RUSSE NOIR)

JEAN-CLAUDE TRAORÉ BUSINESS ADVICE

Blue Ocean Strategy; Solvent Levelling Effect Chemical Reaction Engineering and Economic Science.

TENNIS AGRICULTURE

A clay-court specialist is a tennis player who excels on clay courts, more than on any other surface.

Due in part to advances in racquet technology, current clay-court specialists are known for employing long, winding groundstrokes that generate heavy topspin; such strokes are less effective on faster surfaces on which the balls do not bounce as high. Clay-court specialists tend to slide more effectively on clay than other players. Many of them are also very adept at hitting the drop shot, which can be effective because rallies on clay courts often leave players pushed far beyond the baseline. Additionally, the slow, long rallies require a great degree of mental focus and physical stamina.

MATERIALISM-ILLUSION TRADWAVE CATHOLICISM THEOLOGY ECUMENISM

Salesian Order and Council of Trent Economic Materialism Culture with Distorted Sensory Overload Vice Artisan Mural Crown (Craftsmanship, Commercialism, Commerce, Medium of Exchange)

The original sense of apotheosis relates to religion and is the subject of many works of art. Figuratively "apotheosis" may be used in almost any context for "the deification, glorification, or exaltation of a principle, practice, etc.", so normally attached to an abstraction of some sort.[1] In religion, apotheosis was a feature of many religions in the ancient world, and some that are active today. It requires a belief that there is a possibility of newly-created gods, so a polytheistic belief system. The major modern religions of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism do not allow for this, though many recognise minor sacred categories such as saints (created by a process called canonization). A mural crown (Latin: corona muralis) is a crown or headpiece representing city walls, towers, or fortresses. In classical antiquity, it was an emblem of tutelary deities who watched over a city, and among the Romans a military decoration. Later the mural crown developed into a symbol of European heraldry, mostly for cities and towns, and in the 19th and 20th centuries was used in some republican heraldry.

The body of light, sometimes called the 'astral body'[a] or the 'subtle body,'[b] is a "quasi material"[1] aspect of the human body, being neither solely physical nor solely spiritual, posited by a number of philosophers, and elaborated on according to various esoteric, occult, and mystical teachings. Other terms used for this body include body of glory,[2] spirit-body, luciform body, augoeides ('radiant body'), astroeides ('starry or sidereal body'), and celestial body.[3] The concept derives from the philosophy of Plato: the word 'astral' means 'of the stars'; thus the astral plane consists of the Seven Heavens of the classical planets. The idea is rooted in common worldwide religious accounts of the afterlife[4] in which the soul's journey or "ascent" is described in such terms as "an ecstatic, mystical or out-of body experience, wherein the spiritual traveller leaves the physical body and travels in their body of light into 'higher' realms."[5]

The canon law of the Catholic Church (from Latin ius canonicum[1]) is "how the Church organizes and governs herself".[2] It is the system of laws and ecclesiastical legal principles made and enforced by the hierarchical authorities of the Catholic Church to regulate its external organization and government and to order and direct the activities of Catholics toward the mission of the Church.

An institute of consecrated life is an association of faithful in the Catholic Church canonically erected by competent church authorities to enable men or women who publicly profess the evangelical counsels by religious vows or other sacred bonds "through the charity to which these counsels lead to be joined to the Church and its mystery in a special way".[1] They are defined in the 1983 Code of Canon Law under canons 573–730. The Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life has ecclesial oversight of institutes of consecrated life.[2]

In Christianity, the three evangelical counsels, or counsels of perfection, are chastity (FUCK THIS), poverty (or perfect charity)*, and obedience (Reckless Abandonment)*.[1] As stated by Jesus in the canonical gospels,[2] they are counsels for those who desire to become "perfect" (τελειος, teleios).[3][4] The Catholic Church interprets this to mean that they are not binding upon all, and hence not necessary conditions to attain eternal life (heaven), but that they are "acts of supererogation", "over and above" the minimum stipulated in the biblical commandments.[5][6]

Catholics who have made a public profession to order their lives by the evangelical counsels, and confirmed this by public vows before their competent church authority (the act of religious commitment known as a profession), are recognised as members of the consecrated life.

Tradwave is a Catholic artistic style using synthwave and vaporwave art to promote traditional catholicism. Tradwave usually uses traditional catholic paintings, sculptures, or photographs of saints, given with vaporwave effects, often with a bible verse or quote about catholicism. The art usually tries to convey a resurrection of catholic spirituality in the modern atheist world. Figures often depicted in Tradwave art include Jesus Christ, the Virgin Mary, Ven. Fulton Sheen, Cardinal Robert Sarah, and Mother Angelica.

Tradwave music often takes the form of two main styles. One of them is catholic hymns with vaporwave effects and traditional Vaporwave/Lo-Fi music. It can also have quotes from modern prolific Catholic figures, such as Ven. The other theme is Fulton Sheen and Cardinal Robert Sarah.

The term political religion is based on the observation that sometimes political ideologies or political systems display features more commonly associated with religion.

Religious nationalism can be understood in a number of ways, such as nationalism as a religion itself, a position articulated by Carlton Hayes in his text Nationalism: A Religion, or as the relationship of nationalism to a particular religious belief, dogma, ideology, or affiliation. This relationship can be broken down into two aspects: the politicisation of religion and the influence of religion on politics.

Dioceses ruled by an archbishop are commonly referred to as archdioceses; most are metropolitan sees, being placed at the head of an ecclesiastical province. In the Catholic Church, some are suffragans of a metropolitan see or are directly subject to the Holy See.

Heavenly Virtue: Another phrase to describe this obedience to the voice is “reckless abandon.” It simply means that we let God do what God wants to do through us. It means if He tells us to do something or say something—we do it.

The Dionysian Mysteries were a ritual of ancient Greece and Rome which sometimes used intoxicants and other trance-inducing techniques (like dance and music) to remove inhibitions and social constraints, liberating the individual to return to a natural state.

Catholic School Girls Moon Evangelical Prophets: Consecrated life is "placed in a privileged position in the line of evangelical prophecy," whereby its “charismatic nature” and communal discernment of the Spirit "makes it capable of inventiveness and originality.”

Men Mars Angelology Conversion System: Church Enterprises (Planetary Intelligence Church District Real Estate; Liberal Arts Catholic Immersion Schools; Gold; Athletics; Cooking);

Church Gatherings (School Nights Virgil, Weekend Noon Mass then Weekend Sports League) Francis de Sales and Don St. Bosco Influence

Angelology Patchwork Tattoos: Biblical Crowns, Praying Hands, Gun Toting Angels, Dirty Dancing Angels, Drug Using Angels, Heavenly Choir, Summa Theologica Sherman, Saints and Pastors, Hebrew Tetragram, Council of Trent

🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲🇨🇲

RUSSE NOIR

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girlactionfigure · 10 months

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ISRAEL REALTIME - "Connecting the World to Israel in Realtime"

After Shabbat - Nov. 25 - Shavua tov

🟠 HOSTAGE RELEASES REMAIN ON HOLD BY HAMAS

🔸CEASEFIRE ENDS AT MIDNIGHT IF NO PROGRESS? (N12) Israel sent a message to Hamas: if the abductees are not released by midnight - the ceasefire will end - per Al Jazeera. (( Interestingly this is being reported by Al Jazeera and Al Arabiya Arab news networks as a statement by Israel made via Israel Channel 12, but was a commentary statement made by Israel’s political commentator for Channel 12 Amit Segal - no official source for such a statement as far as we can tell. Did Israel’s Channel 12 political commentator just set Israeli policy and threaten Hamas? And from 2 items below - effectively? ))

🔸ISRAEL SAYS… A political source: "All the claims of Hamas as if Israel violated the agreement are lies. This is a propaganda attempt by Hamas. Israel has met all its obligations. Hamas is embarrassing the mediators - Egypt and Qatar."

🔸HAMAS BACKING DOWN? A senior Hamas official, Osama Hamdan, said a few minutes ago to Al-Arabia network: "The exchange steps (the release of the abductees and prisoners) will be completed, after we receive the answers we requested from the mediators."

🔸TO HAMAS’S CLAIMS, ISRAEL SAYS… Regarding the release of the terrorists: Israel claims that it did not undertake to release based on seniority, but rather a sort of statement that it might do so. Regarding the trucks to north Gaza: they passed the Rafah crossing -Israel is not responsible for their arrival to the north, but for allowing their entry. And it happened.

🔸MAGEN DOVID ODOM SAYS… the release procedure is not in sight at the moment: First, Hamas directs the Red Cross where to go to receive the Israeli hostages - and also transfers their details. Unlike yesterday, it has not yet been transferred the meeting point. MDA has tried to contact the Red Cross, but they are not answering.

◾️PALESTINIANS AWAITING PRISONER RELEASE SHOT IN FRONT OF PRISON… Riots by Palestinians in front of Ofer prison while waiting for the release of the Hamas prisoners. 3 were wounded by our forces' live fire to disperse the rioters.

◾️ISRAEL SOCIAL NEWS CHANNEL HACK-ATTACKED BY YEMEN HACKERS… One of Israel’s top Arab monitoring social news channels was attacked on Shabbat and partially hacked - with a channel bot taken over. Those operating Israeli channels on social media are advised to increase their security - make sure to activate 2 factor authentication and only use automated management tools such as channel bots if absolutely necessary. (The channel is back is service.)

◾️ISRAEL HACKERS TAKE OUT IRANIAN HACKERS… WeRedEvils says “We managed to permanently disable the group of Iranian and Yemeni hackers "Tofan". Those hackers stole sensitive details of tens of thousands of Israelis and was involved in the disclosure of information and business damage to more than 40 companies - and also harmed quite a few soldiers and sent threatening messages to hundreds of thousands of Israelis. We received a request from a special body to attack them and delete their data, databases in the order of 50GB, and we succeeded in this task.”

#Israel #October 7 #Iron Sword #RealTimeUpdates

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otherworldseekers · 7 months

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Well, folks, I am feeling very upset over tumblr's newest move to alienate its userbase. Not because I am particularly worried about anything I post. It's all derivative. But I feel terrible for all the writers and artists who are the backbone of this site and have been completely betrayed. We've all been sold to the highest bidder.

I don't believe for a moment that all our data is not already in the hands of AI or that tumblr has done anything legally binding to protect those of us who don't want our work stolen. They seem to be relying on a verbal agreement and on the AI companies to do the right thing. Ha.

As someone who is vehemently anti-Generative AI, this all makes me furious. As someone who believes artists and creators should be celebrated and well paid instead of spurned and replaced, I feel sick to my stomach.

Especially because, despite the corporate overlords, I really enjoy this site. I love the community. I've met so many cool people. I've had a great experience sharing the things I make on my blog for the past few years. I don't want to lose that.

But I think I'm going to need to take a break from tumblr. I'm feeling really discouraged and it's affecting my ability to be creative.

In the meantime, I have a Bluesky and a cohost, which I plan to actually start using. You can also contact me on discord as mythopoet. I'd love to have friends to talk characters and writing with. And of course there's my AO3 which I will probably transfer more of my tumblr writing to soon.

I very much doubt I will leave tumblr forever. There's nothing else quite like this site and the community here. So I'll probably be back when some of this anxiety goes away.

Whether I see you here or one of the other places, I thank everyone who has followed me and liked my creations. It's really meant the world to me. I don't intend to stop until I've wrung myself dry of every bit of Severia/Nero content I can think of.

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messydiabolical · 22 days

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18, 25, 42, 76 for the ME ask pls!

Thanks for the asks! (link to full question list)

18) Favourite mission from ME2? I love ME2, my fave of the trilogy and a lot of fun. The collector ship and Reaper IFF missions are highlights. It feels like a cop out to say the suicide mission but like, it fucking rules and is the best overall. A culmination of your actions up until then, and a banger soundtrack. Next playthrough i'll be using those new harder loyalties and suicide mission overhaul mod, I can't wait to have Thane as sucessful biotic specialist.

25) No diplomatic option possible: side with the Geth or Quarians? I refuse! You can't make me! What did I do to you?!?! lol Ouch. I do belive the geth are sentient beings with rights, synthetic bodies or not, so that's really hard. I also believe the quarians were absolutely in the wrong to try and wipe out the geth once they realised they were sentient AI's- but that was hundreds of years ago and not all quarians agreed, nor are they all in agreement now. Collectivly punishing an entire species for past actions aint it (which is also true for the geth re some siding with reapers) I suppose the reality is that with the geth, there's always the option of storing, transferring data, rebuilding. If you kill a person, they are gone, full stop. So I hate it, but quarians, if we're being ruthlessly realistic and pragmatic. (but my heart says geth because I hate how they've been treated).

42) One romance you just can’t stand/doesn’t make sense/etc? I HATE how the Vega and Javik "romances" are played off as a laugh in the citadel DLC. The Vega one especially gives me the ick, he admires Shep so much, said he didn't want a romance, got drunk, Shep gets all flirty, and then he regrets it the next morning. Makes me feel skeezy. Javik just feels a bit mean spirited for anyone who genuinely wanted that romance.

76) answered in previous ask

#ask game #md answers

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am3mb3r123 · 7 months

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THE BAD BATCH SEASON 3 EPISODES 1-3 THOUGHTS AND SPOILERS BELOW

guys i have so many thoughts i'm so glad i set my alarm for 2am holy shit

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

Omega's hair getting longer i'm sobbing

how many girl clones are there??? this opens a whole world of possibilities

we're all in agreement that M-Count means Midichlorian count right? right??

Hunter and Wrecker taking the boys to Pabu 🥹

Wrecker interacting with the kids my beloved

Crosshair sassing Omega is my new favorite thing

Crosshair's tremor, however, is cruel. Filoni how could you??

Star Wars data pads turning from things that look like giant calculators to ipads is so funny to me

Okay, longer thoughts here:

You can so tell the holes left by absent team members in the second episode, but very specifically Tech and Echo.

Tech scanning the vines (trash compacter monster 👀) to find weaknesses,

Providing key cover fire, and

Retrieving intel. The intension behind showing Hunter and Wrecker's every (very slow) move to plug in Gonky and then the data stick was not lost on me. Tech would have done that so so quickly and Echo would've just plugged in himself

Now, there are two thoughts I have about what Project Necromancy is:

My very first thought was Ventress. We know she's in the show and we also know she died in Dark Disciple. I'm genuinely not sure whether I prefer this outcome or want more Nightsister magic to be involved. She would also serve as a vessel to transfer midichlorians to clones

While I was typing this post, I also thought "Oh shit, it's Tech!" I'm terrified of those implications tho, so I'm choosing to believe he either escaped (somehow) or is in a coma somewhere in Tantiss

#mem talks #the bad batch #tbb season 3 #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb season 3 episodes 1-3

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septima-severa · 7 months

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Before the last chapter is out... A little Thrawn teaser

I need to buy myself some time to finish the behemoth called the Act Six of "I Have Fallen in Love with the Villain". This chapter is currently undergoing a heavy revision (and don't let me start on that, I have finally reached page 100 in the book Thrawn and now have this nervous twitch to rewrite the whole story, which I will of course not do). I need to connect some snippets with further writing. But most of it is finished.

Oh, and there will be a tiny chapter 7, just an epilogue, really. Or maybe it will remain as the end of a very long chapter 6. Anyway, two NSFW scenes incoming.

I was also thinking... for all those insatiable creatures out there, to extract all of the sexual scenes in a separate "work" on AO3, so you all can... enjoy yourselves later. How does that sound?

But here is the teaser I have promised:

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

“I see that my gift has arrived safely,” Morgan Elsbeth remarked when she noticed a civilian ship docked deeper within the main hangar. She was trying to match the Grand Admiral’s slower stride, being carefully watched by Captain Enoch.

“Do you consider Sabine Wren another of your… as you call them… gifts, then?” he asked cooly.

“Her capture was unplanned for, but I deemed her useful for our mission.”

“It was Baylan Skoll who brought her here, after all. She had an agreement with him, and I honoured it.” They entered one of the chambers within the walls of the Citadel used as a provisional command room while contents of the vast catacomb under the ancient stronghold were transferred on board.

“But what if she does not find Ezra Bridger?”

“She will have the opportunity to find him,” he reassured her.

“How can you –” the witch stopped herself immediately, but too late to be considered wise not to question a warlord’s strategy.

“Because I know he is alive,” you said slowly, emerging from a dark corner, your presence previously gone unnoticed. KX was shadowing each of your movements like a bodyguard – that was what you had agreed on with Thrawn prior to your decision to show up. “Hello, Morgan,” you stopped on the other side of the holo, turning your full attention to her.

“Doctor Lani Kordes. I’m glad you survived.”

“Don’t bother. We both know you aren’t.”

“Fine by me,” she smirked almost imperceptibly.

“Did you get your data?” you had figured that this person had been behind everything some time ago. The financial aid? Her doing. The hyperspace ring manufacturing, adjustments for Kingfisher? It had obviously been a prototype for some bigger scale project. You suspected that she had been involved in obtaining the file about ancient purrgil migration routes, too.

“Your… cooperation was most helpful.”

“Good. Because I would hate to repeat that experiment again. By the way…” your fingers danced over the keyboard, manipulating the holoprojection of the planet’s surface in front of you, “here are the coordinates, in case you would like to collect the black box – that is if the locals didn’t get to it first.”

“A pity, then.” That you didn’t perish upon impact. Morgan Elsbeth wasn’t easy to read. However, this thought was hovering above her head, ripe for picking.

What else was she hiding from you?

Internally, you were seething, pacing around your half like a caged loth-wolf, separated from the witch by the holo. Still, you had to manage guarding your thoughts from her prying in case she would try that with you. KX was watching you two carefully from a safe distance, prepared to interfere anytime.

“I’m surprised and impressed that the Great Mothers haven’t disposed of you.” Another lash from her.

“They’ve certainly tried.”

“You’re no longer useful to our plan.” Morgan didn’t bother to hide her disdain.

“Ask the crewmembers we were growing skin and organ replacements for,” you spat, already turning to go. “Although, you’re probably right. You should have sent a proper surgeon here instead of genetical engineer,” you said as an afterthought over your shoulder. Once you reached the entrance, two troopers loyal to Captain Enoch fell into step with you, accompanying you back to the Star Destroyer.

“Has she been truly so loyal?” the witch turned to the Grand Admiral when you left.

“She is loyal to me, and that is what matters in this game.”

#fanfiction #grand admiral thrawn #thrawn x reader #peridea #thrawn

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

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Life Worth Living [Chapter Three]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Original Female Character

[You can find the full summary and chapter list for this series here]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains fluff, angst, violence, PTSD, smut (Contains our beloved Defenders and lots of plot twists)

Word Count: 4.5k

a/n: Posting one last one for this series for now! Feel free to leave feedback so I know how interested y'all are in more of this one because it's a bit of an undertaking to transfer full series to tumblr!

Heading back to the couch with my first aid kit in one hand and a soapy, wet washcloth in the other, I eyed Matt from the corner of my eye. He was fairly relaxed, leaning against the back of the couch and waiting patiently for my return. When I set the first aid kit down onto the coffee table I hesitated, eyeing the spot beside Matt before forcing myself to just sit down beside him. I’d already offered my help bandaging his cut, I was going to have to touch him. Sitting near him on the couch was sort of unavoidable, too.

Licking my lips, I fidgeted with the wet cloth in my hands. “I’ll need to clean the cut out first.”

Matt leant forward, his elbows resting against his knees as he turned his head towards the coffee table, giving me easier access to the cut.

“Do whatever you need to,” his deep voice told me.

My jaw clenched at his words and the heat it drew to my cheeks. His mouth tugged up into a slight smirk, almost as if he could see the reaction he’d just had on me. I shook my head lightly, shaking out any inappropriate thoughts.

Don’t make this weird, Olivia.

Very gently, I grabbed his chin in one hand and tilted his head at the angle I needed, trying hard not to focus too much on the rough stubble and warm skin beneath my fingers as I did. Releasing his chin, I focused that hand higher on his head, brushing away the soft brown hair from his temple and holding it out of my way. Matt’s eyes fluttered closed at my touch, slightly leaning into my hand. I paused for a moment at the subtle movement, trying to control my breathing. Letting out a slow exhale, I began carefully washing the cut with the cloth.

“So you know I’m a lawyer,” Matt said, breaking the silence. “What is it you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I tried to keep my focus on cleaning out his cut, trying hard to ignore the way his shoulder brushed against my arm as he adjusted his position on the couch a bit.

“I’m a programmer,” I answered him. “Nothing exciting; I create programs for companies to help with data storage among other boring things.”

“What uh…what made you choose that?” he asked curiously.

I pulled the cloth away from the now cleaned cut, removing my hand from his hair and watching as it fell forward, stopping just before his injury. It wasn’t a deep cut; nothing remotely serious. Something I could have easily helped him with in another way if that wasn’t sure to send him running from my apartment.

“I don’t know exactly,” I admitted as I set the cloth on the cover of the first aid kit, my fingers rifling inside for some ointment. “I guess I liked the idea of creating things,” I told him. “And programmers, in the right company, can make a decent living–though New York City is still expensive,” I said with a slight laugh, causing Matt to chuckle in agreement. “And…working from home was appealing, I suppose.” I opened the ointment, putting a little on my finger before closing the cap and setting it back into the kit. Then I turned my attention back on Matt, gingerly sliding the hair away again as I applied the ointment to his wound. “I like the quiet. And being in my own space,” I continued as I turned back to the coffee table, wiping off the excess ointment from my fingers on the washcloth before searching for a bandage that would work. “I’m not a big fan of being around too many people, so working in an office, with co-workers and bosses always hovering…that just sounded awful.” I grabbed the appropriate bandage and began peeling the protective coverings off. “And I can work from anywhere, too. If I want to just move to a new city or a new state even, my bosses don’t care. I can even take long vacations if I want since I can work from anywhere as long as I have internet access. It’s…freeing, not feeling…stuck in one place.”

Suddenly I paused, my face heating up as my hands hovered just over his face. My eyes widened as I realized I’d been rambling.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, the apology coming out rushed. “I tend to babble to avoid awkward silence when I’m nervous.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Matt said, a smile fighting its way onto his lips. “I like listening to your voice. It’s…soothing.”

“Oh…uhm, thanks?” I let out a nervous laugh, my stomach twisting into knots. “I’ve uh, never been told that before.”

I focused hard on applying the bandage to his cut, willing my hands not to shake so much. Once I got the bandage in place, I smoothed it out across his temple before leaning backwards on the couch, my hands dropping into my lap.

“All done,” I informed him, my voice coming out quieter than I’d intended.

Matt turned on the couch, positioning himself towards me better. He smiled warmly in my direction, his eyes focused just somewhere above my left shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate the middle of the night medical care.”

I bit my lip, laughing softly. “Well I appreciate the middle of the night safety check-in.”

Matt snorted a laugh in response as he reached a hand out, finding my knee and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Anytime,” he said, a charming smile spreading across his lips. “But I should probably let you get back to sleep.”

I sighed slowly, glancing down at my hands in my lap. “Right,” I said half-heartedly.

Matt’s head tilted at my response, his brows furrowing together as the smile left his face.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

I shook my head, knowing he couldn’t see the gesture as I dug my thumbnail into the fabric of my sweatpants, toying with the cloth nervously.

“No, I…,” I began, pausing for a moment as I repeatedly fidgeted with the fabric of my pants. “I just don’t think I’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon. After…everything.” I bit my lip nervously, chewing it for a moment. “I’ve got some broken glass to clean up anyway.”

Matt sat straighter against the couch now, a frown crossing his lips. “Broken glass?”

An awkward laugh escaped me briefly, the sound humorless. “I broke my lamp, if you remember me saying that a bit ago. Haven’t had a chance to clean that up.”

“Would you like some help?” Matt offered.

My eyes went wide as I focused my attention back on him, quickly shaking my head. “No, no that’s alright,” I told him in a rush. “I’m not going to keep you any longer. I just…didn’t feel right letting you go back to your apartment with a bleeding cut on your head.”

A moment of silence passed between us. I continued to awkwardly fidget with the fabric of my sweatpants between my fingers as Matt appeared to be in thought.

“If…if it would make you feel more comfortable,” Matt began hesitantly, “I can stay for a bit? Keep you company?”

My mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound came out. Had he really just offered that? There was no way I could say yes to that, I would sound childish–having a nightmare and not wanting to be alone. How would that make me look to him? A grown woman afraid to be in her own apartment at night, afraid of the dark and what lurked in her dreams?

“Honestly, I don’t mind,” Matt continued. “I can go into the office a bit later tomorrow morning if I need to. That’s the beauty of working for yourself,” he said with a grin. “I really don’t mind. It would actually make me feel better. If I’m not intruding, of course.” He cleared his throat, and I swore I saw a tinge of pink rise on his cheeks. “And I…I'm finding I enjoy your company.”

Chewing the inside of my cheek for a moment, I considered his offer, trying hard not to focus on the last thing he’d said. I really didn’t want to be alone, and he was offering–quite persistently for him to not really mean it.

“If you’d like,” I answered him slowly. “And if it really won’t affect you having to work tomorrow. I would feel awful if I was the cause of you being tired all day.”

“Really,” Matt said, settling back into the couch. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay, I’m just going to grab the broken bits of my lamp and toss them,” I told him as I rose from the couch. “There’s like three pieces, it shouldn’t take me more than a moment.”

“I’ll be fine right here, unless you’d like some help?”

“No, it’s not a big deal,” I said sheepishly. “I’ll just be a moment.”

I hurried down the hall to my bedroom. My sheets were still half thrown on the floor from where I’d woken in a fit. I rushed over to the side of my bed and collected the broken lamp, careful not to cut myself on the glass as I did. Satisfied I’d grabbed all of the pieces, I headed back down the hallway, blushing as Matt smiled when he heard me.

“So you said you don’t particularly enjoy being around a lot of people,” Matt called out as I headed into the kitchen. “Can I ask what drew you to the city then? Seems…not the best place for you if that’s the case.”

I tossed the lamp into the garbage before glancing at him on the couch. His arm was thrown over the back of it and his head was turned slightly towards where I was in the kitchen. I smiled softly at the sight of him sitting there.

“I don’t,” I admitted. “Like being around a lot of people, that is. But I lived in Anchorage, Alaska for a few years before I came here. I wanted a change. Not that Anchorage is quiet, it’s actually the most populated city in Alaska, but it’s…isolated. Everything there sort of is. It’s kind of what drew me there initially.” I cleared my throat, as I walked into the kitchen, opening a cabinet and pulling some glasses down. “I haven’t done much grocery shopping yet, so my hostess options are limited, but would you like some water?”

“Yes, thank you,” Matt answered.

Brief silence followed as I filled up two cups of water and headed back towards the couch. Matt held his hand out and I gently handed him the cup of water. He took a drink at the same time I did.

“The coffee table is about a foot and a half in front of you,” I murmured. “If you’d like to set the glass down.”

“Thank you,” Matt said, smiling lightly as he leaned forward to do just that. As he leaned back against the couch, he curiously asked, “What was Alaska like? I've never left the city.”

I smiled, glancing down at the cup in my hands and fiddling with the condensation on the glass. My mind’s eye recalled the place I’d spent quite a few years calling home; part of me missed it already.

“It was…beautiful,” I said, voice quiet, almost reverent. “I’d been traveling briefly right before having moved there,” I told him, fighting hard to keep the memories attached to that buried deep. “But I’d never seen any place like it. The mountains are just…massive. They tower behind Anchorage and all the buildings and houses there. Just always in the distance, always standing so tall; I’d never seen anything quite like them before. And the forests…” My voice trailed off as my eyes closed, remembering the forests. “They’re wild. There’s so many trails there to hike. So many different types of spruce trees, cedars, and birches. Moss literally coats every inch of the forest ground. It’s just… so green . So much life everywhere. You could look up and spot bald eagles or magpies; moose and their young always on the side of the roads or cutting through backyards in the city.” I smiled as a memory surfaced and I told him, “I’d run into one on a trail once. It was a trail I always ran on in the city; I was definitely lucky she didn’t charge me because they’re massive in person.”

Matt chuckled at my words and as I opened my eyes, I noticed he’d closed his at some point. A small smile passed my lips as I continued.

“There’s bears everywhere too–black and brown. You have to wear bells when you hike and carry bear mace, just in case. And when you travel out towards the ocean, the shoreline isn’t sand, it’s just these beautiful black river rocks. They’re uncomfortable to walk on, but there’s just so many that it’s…incredible,” I told him, glancing down at my hands holding the glass of water in my lap. “Sometimes you can see the whales breaching the water. Or otters swimming with their young. Seals sunbathing on the shore–and for the record, they smell very bad. Like shit and rotting fish." Matt laughed along with me, his head leaning towards me, eyes still closed. “In the summer, the sun never really sets. It could be eleven at night and it perpetually looks like the sun is just about to go down, but it never does.” I sighed, picturing summers in Anchorage. “There’s this flower called fireweed; it’s everywhere, blanketing the grasses in bright pink like the ground is on fire. There’s so many of them that you can smell it in the air.” I laughed lightly. “And the air is definitely cleaner there. That’s for sure.”

I paused, taking in the look of peace on his face. Slowly his eyelids fluttered open, his head turning towards me and his eyes almost catching mine.

“You paint a beautiful picture,” he said quietly. “It sounds like you loved it there.”

I exhaled slowly, nodding my head. “I did,” I told him. “I loved hiking the trails. Even learning to do a bit of mountain climbing. I never got into the fishing or hunting out there though–not really into the idea of killing things," I said, a shiver running down my spine as I continued on, pushing more memories farther back. "I visited some glaciers and even tried foraging. I tried hard to start a life out there but I was just…lonely.”

“So you moved here?” Matt asked.

“So I moved here,” I agreed.

“And are you feeling less lonely?” he asked me curiously.

I smiled softly in response, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth as I eyed him. “Well, I’ve been here a week and made a few friends already. So, I’d say so.”

A warm smile crossed Matt’s face, his eyes creasing at the corners. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Whether it was the lack of sleep and early hour, or the look on his handsome face, I suddenly found myself blurting out, “I prefer talking to you without the glasses.” And when I realized what I said, I grimaced, slapping a hand to my face and groaning audibly. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled out behind my hand, hearing Matt laugh at my words. “That is probably such an incredibly rude thing to say.”

“No,” Matt said between a chuckle. “Not at all. Most people find my eyes unsettling.”

My hand quickly slid from my face, my jaw dropping. “What?” I asked him incredulously.

He lifted a hand, gesturing at his eyes. “I’ve been told they make people uncomfortable so I wear the glasses.”

“Wow, who would be such an asshole to even feel that way, let alone say that to you?” I asked in disbelief.

He shook his head. “You’d be surprised. But actually, you’ve been far from rude. Most people ask me about my blindness. Whether I was born this way or what happened. You…haven’t. It's sort of a first.”

"I mean, that seems pretty rude to just ask someone," I told him before taking a sip of water. As I set the glass onto the coffee table I added, "It's not like that's all there is to you."

He smiled, a look crossing his face that I couldn't quite place.

"You're very right," he said gently. His hands fidgeted in his lap for a moment before he spoke again. "You know I'm expected to say I don't miss my sight; I wasn't born blind. There was an accident that caused it," he told me. "But I would love to see the sun rise again." He turned towards me further, his knees brushing against mine as he did. "Or the sun that never sets in Alaska."

I felt my face flush not for the first time this morning at his words. Nervously I pushed a strand of hair behind my ears, my breath coming in short.

"I think Foggy is wrong," I joked, my voice a little breathless. "Pretty sure your super power is flirting."

Matt barked a laugh at my words, the deep sound rumbling brightly through my living room.

"He may have mentioned you said I'm a flirt and not your type because of it," Matt countered.

"I'm sure you've got plenty of other options," I teased him lightly.

"Oh, and why is that, would you say?" he teased back with raised brows and a boyish grin on his face.

I rolled my eyes, raising a hand to my burning cheeks. "You're an attractive man, Mr. Murdock. And you're quite good at being charming."

He leaned towards me on the couch just a bit, the grin still on his face. "But not quite good enough to tempt you?" he mused.

I pulled my legs up onto the couch, crossing them in front of me as I tried to steady my racing heart.

"I don't…really date," I told him awkwardly. "Certainly not someone with wandering eyes."

The moment it came out, I clapped a hand over my mouth. Matt burst into a laugh again, his hand reaching out and resting gently against my knee as he did.

"I didn't mean it like that," I whined out behind my hand. My cheeks reddened further in embarrassment. "I meant I don't like guys who are always looking for something better."

"I know what you meant," Matt told me, his hand squeezing my knee. "Poor choice of words, I get it. It happens often around me." He cleared his throat, the toothy smile still on his face as he stared somewhere around my mouth. "But for the record, I'm not that kind of guy."

From behind my hand that I was trying to embarrassingly hide behind, I asked out, "Were you not just out late last night on a date? And now you're here, just one night later, flirting on my couch?"

Matt's smile faltered at my words. He opened his mouth to answer, but quickly closed it again. He was clearly frustrated, wanting to say something but for some reason not able to. Eventually he exhaled deeply before answering.

"I was on a date last night, yes," he responded slowly, carefully answering me. "But nothing happened. Despite what I let Foggy think, I don't actually sleep around. And I don't go on that many dates." He cleared his throat, scratching his forehead for a moment. "And if I was interested in someone, my eyes wouldn't be wandering for any other reason besides the fact that I'm blind and can't help it."

A laugh bubbled up and I buried my face in my hands again. When I looked up, Matt was grinning back at me.

"You did not just make that joke!"

Matt shrugged in response. "Just trying to get you to stop being so embarrassed by it. I'm not insulted, I promise."

"Fine," I groaned, letting my hands fall back into my lap. "I'll try to let it go."

He relaxed back into the sofa and I watched him quietly.

"What would you be doing if I hadn't shown up?" he suddenly asked me.

My eyes crossed the room and landed on the TV.

"Probably would throw something on television to zone out to. Something that wouldn't be triggering," I answered him softly.

His head tilted and he smiled softly. "Feel free to put something on, if you like."

I bit my lip, chewing it thoughtfully in the silence. Matt seemed to pick up on my struggle.

"I can listen to whatever you’d like if you would like me to stay," he told me.

"You can stay," I said slowly. "But I don't really know what I'd put on."

He licked his lips, looking at me curiously. "What were you watching earlier?"

My head ducked quickly down and I laughed awkwardly. I ran my hand through my hair a few times before I admitted, "One of those really horrible Christmas romance movies…one of the least nightmare inducing things I could think of." I paused before mumbling, "Didn't seem to work though."

Matt openly tried to stifle his laugh at my admission and I frowned.

"They're a guilty pleasure to those of us lonely, nearing middle-age and middle-aged women," I said defensively, pointing a finger at him.

He held up his hands in mock surrender, fighting back the smile on his face and doing a terrible job at it.

"I'm sorry," he teased, not sounding too sorry. "I just didn't peg you as the type to watch those."

I rolled my eyes before burying my face in my hands, entirely embarrassed now.

"Maybe I should have sent you home bleeding," I grumbled into my hands.

I felt his weight shift on the couch and I stiffened momentarily as I felt his hand rest on my shoulder. When I glanced up, pulling my face from my hands, Matt had a serious expression on his face. All traces of his previous laughter now gone.

"Olivia," he said, tone as serious as his face, "please put on whatever terrible, romantic Christmas movie that is playing right now. I'd be happy to watch it with you." He paused, a playful smirk breaking his serious composure suddenly. "Or listen to it, in my case."

I frowned at him across the small space between us on the couch. The weight of his hand became very apparent on my shoulder and I tried to ignore it. Instead, I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge if he was serious. As if he could read my thoughts he spoke again.

"I'm being serious," he said, sliding his hand down my shoulder, down the length of my arm before he gently brushed his fingers over my knuckles. I shivered at his touch. "I apologize for laughing before."

A small grin spread across my face. "I mean, they are truly bad. Entirely unrealistic. But I…enjoy them. Better than the news, which always seems so grim lately."

"Please introduce me to this…genre of Christmas movie," Matt teasingly pleaded.

I let out a deep sigh before leaning forward and picking up the remote from my coffee table.

"If you insist, Matt," I joked as I turned on the TV.

It took a moment for the TV to turn on, but when it did I immediately recognized which movie was playing. A very unlady-like snort of amusement escaped me before I could stop it.

"What?"

"I've seen this one before; it looks like it's a few minutes in," I informed him.

He settled in closer beside me, his shoulder and leg brushing up against the side of me. I grabbed the soft, dark green blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over both of our legs. Matt adjusted it on himself, somehow scooting closer to me. I noticed he smiled softly as his fingers slid over the blanket a few times.

I focused on the movie, but after a few minutes I felt Matt shift beside me. His mouth was suddenly beside my ear, warm breath tickling my skin. I could feel the goosebumps rise on my arms before he spoke.

"So what is this one about?" he asked, voice just above a whisper.

I swallowed hard at how close his face now was to me, his head tilted just slightly towards the television as his breath fell over the side of my face. I could feel the warmth radiating from him. The faint smell of cedar and clove was now noticeable at this proximity. If I turned my head, my lips would brush against the warm stubble on his cheek and that thought alone suddenly sent my heart hammering in my chest.

Matt's head turned just a fraction towards me, almost instinctively as if he could tell what he was doing to me. His tongue darted along his lips again, a habit I noticed he did often, one I internally cursed for its ability to make me aware of his lips more than I should be.

"Olivia?" he asked, his voice much quieter now.

I exhaled a shaky breath as quietly as I could. I noticed how Matt suddenly tensed beside me, his jaw clenching.

"It's about this lawyer who is trying to get a historic and supposedly haunted inn sold," I told him, trying to remember the plot as I became even more aware of his thigh resting against mine under the blanket. "And this ghost comes alive every year twelve days before Christmas. She ends up falling in love with the ghost."

Matt twisted beside me, his eyebrows shooting up on his forehead. "A ghost? She falls for a ghost?"

"Better than a mannequin " I quipped, heart steadying a bit as I focused on his utter disbelief.

"You've got to be kidding," he deadpanned.

I smiled and shook my head. "Not at all."

"So how does it end? She falls for a living man?" he questioned. "Please tell me she does."

I grinned at him. "You know nothing about this genre of Christmas movie, Matt Murdock."

He scoffed and shook his head. "He returns to life, doesn't he?"

I nudged his shoulder with my own. "Maybe…"

Matt snorted. " How ? He's dead!"

I shrugged, my shoulder brushing against Matt's muscular arm as I did. "Christmas magic, of course."

Matt chuckled, the movement jostling me beside him. "Oh, right. Of course."

"We don't have to watch it…" I offered, turning my head towards him.

He slung his arm on the back of the couch behind me, his hand resting so close that his fingertips almost brushed my shoulder. He shot me a small grin and shook his head.

"Nah, I'm good," he said. "But I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention it to Foggy."

"Your secret is safe with me, Murdock," I joked.

“Oh, is it?” he teased.

He didn't say anything further, his face returning towards the direction of the screen; but I spent the following fifteen minutes trying to decipher what the devilish smirk on his face meant.

#matt murdock x ofc #matt murdock #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x oc #daredevil #matt murdock fic

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