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david-talks-sw · 1 year ago

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Debunking more myths in the GFFA: the Jedi and the clones.

I wrote a post debunking the various myths about how "the Jedi condone slavery", a while ago. Something I had omitted (because it's such a big topic) was the following two statements that concern the clone troopers' relations with the Jedi:

"The clones were genetically bred to have accelerated growth, so they're technically child soldiers."

"The clones were slaves of the Jedi."

Both the above statements are inaccurate, let's explore why.

"The clones were child soldiers"

Let's get the easy one out of the way first, because it's a logic that cuts both ways. If age is our only determination of the maturity of a Star Wars character, then Grogu is not a baby. He is aged 50, and is thus a middle-aged man.

Who cruelly eats the babies of a woman...

... and knowingly tortures animals for his own sadistic pleasure.

Of course, I'm kidding. Grogu's none of the above things.

The narrative frames him as a cute baby who does innocent baby stuff. Him eating the eggs is played off as comedic, as is him lifting with the frog. To this day, some fans still call him "Baby Yoda".

Conversely, despite the clones being 10/14-years-old, their actions, behaviors, way of thinking, sense of humor, morals etc, are all those of an adult.

Like, Ahsoka is technically older than Rex in this scene.

The scene doesn't portray them as peers, though. This isn't written as "a teen and a tween talking". No, Rex looks, acts and behaves like a grown-up and is thus framed as such by the narrative.

You can make the argument "they're child soldiers", but (unless you're doing so in bad faith) you'd also have to argue that "Grogu's an adult".

"The clones were the Jedi's slaves"

Nope. For all intents and purposes, they're in the same boat as the Jedi, who George Lucas stated multiple times had been drafted to fight in the war.

Again: both the Jedi (monk/diplomats untrained for fighting on a battlefield) and clones (literally bred en masse only to fight) are being forced to fight by Palpatine and the Senate.

Though, on paper, the clones were commissioned by Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas, it was actually done by the Sith (who either manipulated or assassinated Sifo-Dyas then stole his identity, depending on the continuity you choose to adhere to). The rest of the Jedi had no idea these clones were being created.

So while the clones are slaves... they're not owned by the Jedi.

They're the army of the Republic, they belong to the Senate. This isn't exactly a scoop, they refer to the clones as something to purchase...

... and manufacture.

As far as the Senate’s concerned, clones are property, like droids.

Like there's a whole subplot in The Bad Batch about this very point: after the war, the clones are decommissioned and left out to dry because they literally have no rights, they served their purpose.

The only trooper to ever canonically blame the Jedi for the clones' enslavement is Slick, who the narrative frames as having been bribed and manipulated by Asajj Ventress into betraying his comrades.

Also, the only canonical Jedi shown to ever be mean, dismissive or mistreating the clones in any way, is Pong Krell.

And it's eventually revealed he’s in fact a full-on traitor, hence why the story frames him as an antagonistic dick from the moment he's introduced. He doesn’t represent the Jedi in any way.

We know this because the other Jedi we’ve been shown are always prioritizing their clones’ lives over theirs, if given the chance.

Finally, if we wanna get even more specific... as Commander-in-Chief of the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR), the clones belong to Palpatine.

Palpatine who is a Sith Lord.

Palpatine who arranged for the creation of the clones and had them all injected with a chip that would activate upon hearing a code-word...

... and forced them to murder their Jedi without hesitation or remorse.

When you bear all that ⬆️ in mind and when you read this quote by George Lucas...

"The Jedi won't lead droids. Their whole basis is connecting with the life force. They'd just say, 'That's not the way we operate. We don't function with non-life-forms.” So if there is to be a Republic army, it would have to be an army of humans." - The Star Wars Archives: 1999-2005, 2020

... narratively-speaking, everything falls into place.

Sidious knows that:

If he orchestrates a war designed to thin the Jedi's numbers, corrupt their values and plunge the galaxy into chaos...

If he wants to draft the Jedi - peace-keeping diplomats who’d never willingly join the fray - to fight in his war...

... then the only way they won't resist the draft and abstain from fighting is if they think joining the conflict will save lives.

So he creates a set of cruel, sadistic villains for them to face, opponents who will target innocent civilians at every turn...

... and instead of lifeless droids, he prepares for the Jedi an army of men... living, mortal people who, despite being well-trained, will be completely out of their league when facing the likes of Dooku...

... Ventress...

... Grievous...

... Savage Opress...

... or the defoliator, a tank that annihilates organic matter.

Thus, in order to save as many clone and civilian lives, the Jedi join the fray despite knowing that doing so will corrupt their values.

And as the war rages on, a bond of respect is formed between the two groups.

Clearly, the Jedi don't like the fact that the Republic is using the clones to fight a war, but for that matter, they don't like being in a war, in fact they advocated against it.

However, it's happening regardless of their issues with the idea or personal philosophies. Said The Clone Wars writer Henry Gilroy:

"I’d rather not get into the Jedi’s philosophical issues about an army of living beings created to fight, but the Jedi are in a tough spot themselves, being peacekeepers turned warriors trying to save the Republic."

And bear in mind, the Jedi are basically space psychics, the clones are living beings that they can individually feel in the Force...

... so the Jedi feel every death but need to move on, regardless, only being able to mourn the troopers at the end of every battle.

We see this in the Legends continuity too, by the way.

(that is, when the writers actually try to engage with the narrative)

Also, if you ask the clones, they’re grateful the Jedi have their backs.

When Depa Billaba voices her concerns about how the war is impacting the Jedi's principles, troopers Grey and Styles are quick to make it clear how grateful they all are for the Jedi's involvement:

So the clones aren't the Jedi's slaves. If anything, they're both slaves of the Republic (considering how low the Jedi's status actually is in the hierarchy).

Only I'd argue the clones have it much, much worse.

The Senate sees the Jedi as "ugh, the holier-than-thou space-monk lapdogs who work for us"... but a Jedi has the option to give up that responsibility. They can leave the Order, no fuss or stigma.

A clone trooper cannot leave the GAR! If they do, they’re marked for treason and execution. Again, they’re not perceived as “people”.

And it doesn’t help that the Kaminoans, the clones’ very creators, see the troopers as products/units/merchandise. A notion that the Jedi are quick to correct whenever they get the chance.

How The Clone Wars writers describe the clones' relationship with the Jedi.

George Lucas hasn’t spoken much about this subject aside from the quote from further up. But to be fair... the Prequels aren’t about the clones’ dynamic with the Jedi, so it makes sense that he wouldn’t talk on that subject so much.

He did mention that part of The Clone Wars’ perks is that he could:

“Do stories about some of the individual clones and get to know them.”

But that’s as far as it gets.

So for this part, I'm just gonna let Dave Filoni, showrunner of The Clone Wars and the upcoming series Ahsoka, and TCW writer Henry Gilroy - both of whom worked closely with Lucas - take the wheel. They make themselves pretty clear on how the clone/Jedi dynamic is meant to be viewed.

Here’s Henry Gilroy:

"In my mind, the Jedi see the clones as individuals, living beings that have the same right to life as any other being, but understand that they have a job to do."

"The clones see the Jedi as their commanding officers on one hand, but also, at least subconsciously, they look to them for clues to social/moral behavior."

"Some clones may find themselves getting philosophical leadership from the Jedi that helps them answer some of the deeper questions of life."

"We thought this was a great opportunity to show how the Jedi interact with clones. Specifically, Yoda in a teaching role of the clones, who were socially new, who kind of grew up— who were created to fight, and he really broadened their horizons and helped them realize there was a great big universe out there that was bigger than just fighting and killing."

And here’s Dave Filoni’s comments:

"I truly believe that the Jedi try to humanize their clones and make them more individual, as Henry says."

"I think we saw that in Revenge of the Sith, when the Clones were colorful and named under the Jedi Generals, and then in the final shots of the film with Palpatine and Vader near the new Death Star, the ships are grey, the color and life is sucked out. The Stormtroopers are only numbers and identified by black and white armor or uniforms in A New Hope."

"The soldiers have become disposable to the Emperor."

"That is something the Jedi would never do."

"Yoda teaching the clones much like he taught Luke. ‘Cause that was kind of natural for [the Jedi], a natural instinct to take to these clones like they’re students."

None of the above quotes from two different writers of The Clone Wars, who had many interactions with George Lucas, frame the Jedi and the clones’ relationship in a negative way.

How much more proof do we need that "the clones were slaves of the Jedi” isn’t the intended narrative?

My point being that while the clones' ordeal is indeed horrible, the Jedi have nothing to do with it. The narrative of The Clone Wars always frames it as the fault of the Sith, the Senate and the Kaminoans.

If you go by the intended narrative, the Jedi were the clones' teachers and brothers-in-arms. The clones and the Jedi were not just comrades.

They were friends.

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queenvhagar · 4 months ago

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I believe Rhys Ifans’ statement “Both sides are genocidal war criminals… I think we should all enjoy seeing how they die[,]” would be wrong because the entire time the story HOTD is fundamentally about how one group, the greens, IE Alicent, Otto, and Aegon Hightower, seek to maintain the status quo of an oppressive power structure versus Rhaenyra, the blacks, whose very existence seeks to jeopardize that power structure (the patriarchal society of Westeros).

It is made explicitly clear that the chief architect of team green in the usurpation of Rhaenyra’s throne that the only reason that they cannot have Rhaenyra on the throne is explicitly because she is a woman. It’s a theme that is present throughout the entirety of HOTD’s season one as this conflict builds up.

For instance, the conversation between Alicent and Rhaenys at the end of season one where Alicent justifies why she is participating in the usurpation of Rhaenyra’s throne to Rhaenys by saying that it is not a woman’s place to rule the Seven kingdoms and instead it is a woman’s place to gently guide the hand of the men who do rule.

The story of HOTD, the civil war for the succession of the Iron Throne following the death of Viserys, the Dance of the Dragons, is fundamentally a conflict that is built on the foundation of misogyny and the writers are making that explicitly clear.

The weird false equivalency when ppl imply that both sides are equally genocidally crazy, that treads to reduce the nature of this conflict down to just simple good old fashioned greed which it really isn’t.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think Rhaenyra is perfect and of course I understand that over the course of the war, she’s going to do some pretty terrible things but it’s been made pretty clear that Rhaenyra’s done everything in her power to avoid this turning out into a war in the fist place.

I just don’t think by any stretch of the imagination regardless of what Rhaenyra does throughout this war, that you’re supposed to enjoy watching her die. I don’t think that’s how her character is written and I don’t think that’s what the narrative goal of her end is supposed to be. Her character is a character by all accounts some victim of the patriarchal society that she lives in. Even if she does go down the “mad queen route,” it will only be to explore how the patriarchal society has completely twisted her. How this war that was started because she dared to be queen of the seven kingdoms completely ruined her and ruined her family.

I would very much appreciate your thoughts on this and would like to learn more if this take of mine is confusing and blinded.

I think this take might be correct if you're solely going off of the show and its interpretation of Team Black as modern feminists attempting revolutionary societal change led by divinely ordained and pure Rhaenyra vs Team Green as conservative misogynists led by incompetent and unorganized abuser Aegon...

Fire and Blood is not this, though. Sexism and misogyny is one element of power and power imbalance in Westeros but it's not the only one, nor is it the only factor into why Rhaenyra's claim was disputed, despite what the showrunners are trying to portray on screen.

The reality is two ideologically different sides with fairly equal claims to the throne are trying to seize power, leading to a war that ruins the land and the family that started it. Team Green has Aegon, firstborn son of the last king, following Andal tradition going back thousands of years and most recently reinforced in the Council of 101 AC that made his own father king. Team Black has Rhaenyra, eldest daughter named by the previous king but not supported by precedent. Rhaenyra unfortunately also had some political scandals that went against her in having bastards, having Velaryons killed and mutilated, and marrying Daemon despite fear of him in power being the reason she was named heir in the first place. Any of these are valid reasons why some people might be against her coming into power. It's more than "she's a woman and I don't like women."

Rhaenyra did not press her claim to raise up the women of the realm, nor did she do it out of a desire to save the world. She wanted it because she wanted power that was promised to her. But the show can't let women simply want things for themselves. Rhaenyra has to be an advocate for peace and want the throne for some higher purpose instead of just wanting power for power's sake.

The Greens were motivated by power to push for Aegon's claim, and surely misogyny in the society helped to get Aegon on the throne, but they also put Aegon on the throne out of fear for the lives of all of Viserys' sons, who would have to be taken out of the picture to secure Rhaenyra's atypical claim lest war and rebellion potentially break out against her at any point in her reign, and Team Black had already shown willingness to resort to violence to help themselves (Rhea's death, Laenor's death, Vaemond's death, Velaryons' tongues getting cut out, Aemond's eye cut out without any punishment and instead Aemond threatened with torture over speaking the truth about Rhaenyra). It's not just "we hate the idea of a woman ruling, we hate women, and we're terrible, incompetent people."

Fire and Blood is a tale of two sides fighting for even more power than they already have who are willing to do horrible terrible war crimes against each other and innocents in order to obtain their end goal of the Iron Throne, and realistically you are interested in seeing all of them die and face the consequences of their actions. The story has weight, the characters are real and human and messy and tragic, the war is unjustified in its means and methods and purpose. It's the failure of Viserys' legacy and a reflection of the flaws of monarchy and specifically the ideals Targaryen supremacy. No side is right and the other wrong. Nobody's a hero.

This is where the show has failed in its adaptation. It has abandoned its themes, along with several characters, characterizations, and plot points, in order to create their own narrative that fits a story that they think will sell best to the casual modern viewer: essentially, redemption for Daenerys fans after the catastrophe of Game of Thrones' ending. By making up prophecy and dream stuff to give to Rhaenyra and also giving her some of that Dany "change the world" mentality that was absent in the source material, the writers can cut apart the character of Rhaenyra and make her into a new Daenerys, and this time they can give the fans want they wanted for Daenerys. Except Rhaenyra is not Daenerys at all, and their only similarity is dragon riding queen seeking to inherit their father's throne. Changing the narrative so Rhaenyra becomes the new Daenerys and a true hero of the story ruins the underlying themes of Fire and Blood and specifically the Dance.

Rhys Ifans likely read Fire and Blood and actually knows what he's talking about. The point of the Dance isn't "heroic woman attempting to overthrow the patriarchy is burned and destroyed by the patriarchy and agents of the patriarchy." The takeaway isn't just "misogyny and sexism are bad and hurt women" like the show hammers in so heavily every single episode. It's "the pursuit of power by the already powerful comes at the cost of innocents, war is never justified no matter what (and certainly not justified by manifest destiny, someone's dream of saving the world, or even 'misogynists stole my throne') and the violence of war destroys indiscriminately." There should be catharsis when gray characters who have done good but also horrific bad in the pursuit of power finally face the consequences and die early deaths. Like, for example, the end of Succession: none of the Roy siblings get what they want, and we understand why, and even though parts of their character are sympathetic and tragic to us, we can objectively view them as flawed and selfish people whose decisions led to this ultimate, inevitable conclusion where they don't get what they want, and it's deserved. This is what House of the Dragon should have been. Tragic, flawed characters on both sides acting selfishly but realistically to seize power from each other and ultimately failing. But the writers opted for an oversimplified morality tale of good vs evil to push their version of feminism into the story where it doesn't belong, at the detriment to the characters and the story to the point it goes against the themes and messages of the source material.

#asks #hotd critical #anti hotd

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aquarii-if · 10 months ago

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Demo 378K words (Updated 8/30/24) /// The Gods /// Ask Boundaries

After being abducted by two aliens, their spaceship crashes and leaves you stranded on a galaxy called 'Aquarii", which is populated by a species called 'Mitans'.

You're taken in by the Queen of Aquarii, where she reveals you are a child of one of Aquarii's gods. A cool idea in theory, but it appears the Mitan's aren't particularly happy with a human being half-god.

The queen believes that your arrival is a sign an upcoming war between Mitans and gods can be prevented, while others believe this war is inevitable.

As you are forced to fight for your right to live, you're left with one question:

Can a universe survive without gods?

Choose your pronouns, sexuality, and appearance.

Join forces with an unusual group of aliens with unique features.

Choose between five RO's, two female, two male, and one non-binary option.

Become a demigod and pick one of twelve gods to be the child of.

Deal with a strange device that has been turned against you and the Mitans (along with the alien that built it).

And fight an emperor!

RO Descriptions

Liviana Vlahos, The Queen (she/her)- The queen of Aquarii and all Mitans, she is beloved by all her people for defeating the tyrant who ruled before her. She was kind enough to lend her hand in your time of need, but it's hard to tell if she genuinely cares for you. If you don't prove to be helpful, she may just throw you into the fray.

Estelle Alinac, The Chief (she/her)- The chief of the Justice Association of Aquarii, Estelle is known to be a cold and intimidating woman. She doesn't like you, or humans, and makes that abundantly clear every time you talk to her.

Amare Mailon, The Recruit (he/him)- A new member of the Justice Association of Aquarii, Amare can appear quite naive and unserious. With others, he's sarcastic and witty, but with you, he's nervous and paranoid. Being a member of the JAA, anyone would assume he's just worried about something happening to you. But you know from the way his eyes flick to your arms and legs that the fear runs deeper. You can't tell which matters more to him; stopping a war, or preventing humans from finding Aquarii. Ellery Torres, The Doctor (he/him)- Liviana's personal doctor and the most renowned doctor in the galaxy, Ellery appears as someone you can trust. He can make you feel at ease with his playful humor and light-hearted personality. He has sworn to the queen that he will do everything in his power to keep you alive and healthy. He doesn't appear threatening, but who can you trust in this unknown galaxy?

Vega Ramos, The Mastermind (they/them)- Not much is known about the one who lives in the apartment on Fiery Pass, but it's kind of weird how they never turn their purple lights out...

#interactive game #interactive fiction #if wip #if recs #interact-if #twine game #twine if #aquarii if

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gyutopia · 4 months ago

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world of sinners v | sim jaeyun

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your parents are the head of one of the nation’s most lucrative syndicates and your older brother is heir to the throne which leaves you free to leave this world of evil behind. you’ve been waiting for this day for twenty years of your life, you can practically taste the freedom. what will you do, however, when your parents arrange a marriage for you to bind together their empire with the lee’s to stop a full on gang war?

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: sim jaeyun x f!reader ft brother sungchan & lee heesung

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 7.0k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: dark themes, mentions of drugs, mentions of violence, vulgar language, mentions of death, forced marriage, corruption, consumption of alcohol, possessiveness, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), rough(?) sex, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, slight nipple play, praise, fingering (f receiving), dom!jake, sub!reader, unprotected sex.

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Jaeyun had done a fantastic job of choosing your attorney. Stella, a tall, slim woman with bright red hair in her late twenties, is sought out by rich business owners who often find themselves in legal trouble. Though she's only a few years older than you and relatively new to law, she exudes an air of high maintenance and smugness.

Stella takes her seat beside you, her smile unwavering, followed by the officers who had made a spectacle of arresting you in public for all of Korea to see. They settle across from you, letting a beat pass before they begin questioning you again.

"Mrs. Sim," the detective begins, his tone formal, "we need to ask you a few questions regarding your whereabouts during the time of the chief's death."

You swallow hard, glancing briefly at Stella, who gives you a reassuring nod and a cheerful wink. "I was at home with my husband," you reply steadily.

The officer who arrested you, Taehyun, leans forward slightly. "Can anyone else confirm that?"

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice calm. "Yes, our staff can confirm it. We were together all evening."

The detective scribbles something in his notebook. "Can you provide any more details about your evening? Any visitors? Any phone calls?"

You think back, trying to recall anything that might help. "We had dinner together. No visitors, no phone calls that I can remember."

Stella interjects, her voice bright and confident. "My client has already provided her alibi. Unless you have further evidence to suggest otherwise, we see no reason for this continued detention."

Officer Kang ignores Stella. “Mrs. Sim, you do understand that the evidence against you is pretty damning, right?”

You don’t say a word.

The detective and officer share a look. “The chief was last seen having lunch with you a week prior to his disappearance. Care to explain?”

Stella scoffs with a playful roll of her eyes. “What’s wrong with going out to eat with an associate? Haven’t you done it before, detective?”

Detective Choi tisks but disregards Stella’s comment. He places a sheet of paper on the table and twists it so you have a clear view. “You were the last person Chief Minho called,” he says, placing down two other call logs. “You also seemed to share multiple calls dating back to before you even announced your engagement to Sim Jaeyun.”

You frown. “Impossible,” you mutter as you look down at the call logs. Taehyun uses this as an opportunity to sink his claws into you.

“Impossible? Why do you say that?”

Stella places a hand on your shoulder and encourages you not to answer, but you’re too out of it to comply. “I mean, yeah, we’ve called each other a few times, but I can’t be the last person he called.”

Yeonjun hums. “Is that so?”

Stella hisses, “Do not engage with them, ____.”

You shrug her off. “The call logs have to be wrong, maybe even doctored. I remember this date,” you say as you point to it. “It was yesterday. My husband took me to the museum that day. I didn’t get a call from the chief, just a call from an unk—” You cut yourself off as you realize exactly who called you from the unknown number yesterday. “That son of a bitch!” you hiss. It was the chief. It makes sense. Whoever killed him did a hell of a job making sure all fingers would point back to you.

Yeonjun smirks and sinks back into his seat. “The museum, huh? Thought you were at home with your husband?”

You gape at the detective as you realize the hole you’ve dug yourself into. You and Jake spent that night at his safe house, there’s no CCTV of you ever making it back home from the museum. Seeing as these cops are hellbent on putting you away they can easily check the street camera to see when you made it home.

“They went to the museum in the morning and spent their afternoon at home. What are you getting at, Yeonjun?” Stella asks, her voice lilting with mock curiosity.

His eyes flicker to your defense attorney before he turns back to you. “Are you happy with your marriage, ____?”

Your body freezes at the question. Are you happy? You entered your engagement and marriage indifferently, angry at the world for where you had ended up. But things are different now. You’re falling in love with Jaeyun; he’s made you incredibly happy in these short few weeks. Maybe you’re beginning to become content with where you are now?

“What does my client’s marriage have to do with the murder charges against her?”

“The FBI has an ongoing case against your husband. I assume murder isn’t below him just as it isn’t below you. I suspect you were having an affair with the Chief, wanted to make things official, but he didn’t seeing as you were getting married. In a fit of rage, you killed him. Your husband, who’s madly in love with you, then proceeded to cover up your crimes.”

You feel a dull throb in your temple. You have no doubt you'll have a migraine by the time you leave this interrogation room.

“Stop badgering my client; this is all speculation.”

Detective Choi doesn’t stop. “We understand the chief owed your family money?”

You nod. “Yes.”

The bastard had upped his bribe fee once it was announced that Sungchan would be taking over but never followed up on his half of the deal. Sungchan had asked you what he should do two days before your wedding, but you told him you would take care of it and arranged to meet Minho the next night.

You’re willing to bet that the pictures they claim to have of the two of you out to lunch are probably of you two in a heated argument over when he would uphold his half of the deal. Either that or he’d pay back the money. Taehyun flips through pages of paper on his clipboard.

“That’s motive.”

You raise an eyebrow. Motive? “Stop stating false claims. I didn’t kill him.”

Taehyun ignores you. “Okay, I believe you. You weren’t having an affair, but you thought you could get an upper hand on your father who handed the company over to your brother when it should have been yours. You figured if you couldn’t have the company, you could at least get away with the money. You met with the chief for lunch to discuss a payment plan for what he owed your father, but when he refused to give you the money, you stormed to his home and killed him, then had your husband cover it up.”

You let out a dry laugh. They think you're envious of Sungchan? If anything, you pity your elder brother. You despise that company with your whole being. “You think I want the company? It can burn to the ground for all I care. As for the money, have you forgotten I married rich? Why would I need the four billion won your Chief stole from my family when my husband spoils me with extravagant gifts?”

Stella places a hand on your thigh. “That’s enough, ____,” she turns to the officer and detective. “As for you two, you’re both speculating and writing two very different narratives. My client didn’t kill the chief for money, nor did she do it because of a torrid affair. If you continue on, we’ll sue for harassment and defamation.”

The two share a look, and Detective Choi clears his throat. “Maybe we’re looking at this wrong, hm? Maybe it was accidental? You didn’t mean to kill him, did you? An argument transpired while you two were out for lunch. You felt wronged and went to his loft to speak to him, but he dismissed you. In a fit of rage, you pushed him, and he fell, hitting his head on the way down. Scared, you hid the body.”

Stella interjects in a harsh tone, “My client will not be answering that.”

You stare off into space, no longer knowing what to do. You’re truly at a loss. No matter what you say and no matter how many times you deny it, they will find a way to convict and sentence you for a crime you didn’t commit. Even in death, the bastard was still screwing you over.

“We have no further questions. Make sure you stay in Seoul and are reachable. I’m sure we’ll have more questions as more evidence turns up.”

Officer Kang and Detective Choi pack up their papers and bid you goodbye. You let out a sigh of relief and let your body sag. You were right about the migraine.

“Jake has requested we meet him for lunch to discuss a few details about your case. Let’s go,” Stella says as she packs up her briefcase, her tone still bright. You nod and follow behind her.

“____! Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Jake asks as you come into his line of vision. He engulfs you in a hug and holds you tightly to his chest. Stella sidesteps you two and bounces over to the table, beaming.

“I’m starving! Can we eat now? I could eat a horse!” she exclaims with a giggle.

You blush and push Jake off of you before taking a seat across from Stella. Jake fixes his suit and sits beside you. “How was it? Do you really think they can convict her?”

Stella grabs a menu, her eyes sparkling. “Oh, they’ll try their best, but they’ve got nothing solid! I bet they’ll drag their feet until they find the murder weapon or some more witnesses. But don’t you worry, they’re going to have a hard time pinning it on you!” she says, winking.

She waves the waiter over and orders with enthusiasm, then turns to you and Jake with a dazzling smile, “What about you two? You’ve got to try the gnocchi here, it’s to die for!”

You look at her, stunned. You’re the leading suspect in a murder you didn’t commit; why is she so cheerful? You shake your head, “I don’t think I can stomach anything at the moment.”

Stella shrugs, “Suit yourself! More room for dessert then!” she says, laughing.

Jake places his hand on your thigh and gingerly rubs soothing circles, “I’ll have a glass of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, and my wife will have a pot of chamomile tea.”

The waiter nods and takes down your drink orders before walking away.

“Forensics didn’t find any of your DNA on the chief's body or clothes, which is great news! But the detectives say they have a witness who claims to have seen you fleeing the chief’s home a few minutes after the alleged time of death,” Stella says, her eyes twinkling as if she’s sharing a juicy piece of gossip.

You stare at her wide-eyed, “What do you mean? I have an alibi for the night he was killed!”

Stella sighs dramatically, “It’s not the best alibi, honestly. The prosecution could easily poke holes in it. But don’t fret! We’ve got time to figure this out.” The waiter returns with your drinks, pouring your tea before leaving. “Be honest, are you guilty?”

Jake scowls, “What kind of question is that? Of course she isn’t.”

Stella sends him a sunny smile, “No need to get so angry. I just want to make sure there are no secrets between us. I’ll head down to the station tomorrow to see if I can find out who the witness is. I’ll keep you updated on any changes in your case.”

You nod and pick up your tea cup, blowing on the hot drink and taking a small sip. “I’m meeting a friend at the NFS later today. Right now the prosecution only has a case because of the doctor’s findings in Chief Minho’s autopsy. If we can come up with a different cause of death or estimated time of death, you could be exonerated,” Stella says, her voice full of excitement.

“Wait, the case is riding on one medical examiner's results? What if they were falsified?” Jake asks.

Stella nods eagerly, “Exactly! That’s why I’m meeting with my friend. He’s super meticulous with his autopsies. I’ll leave him a copy of the report and see what he has to say. If he comes up with different findings, we can easily get the charges dropped!”

The waiter returns and takes your food orders, leaving you in a momentary silence. The restaurant's ambiance is calming, but your mind is far from at ease. Stella, ever cheerful, breaks the silence.

"In the meantime, stay strong! The prosecution’s case is weak without concrete evidence, but we need to be prepared for anything,” she says brightly.

You nod absently, sipping your chamomile tea. Jake's hand remains on your thigh, his touch grounding you.

The food arrives, and though you have no appetite, you force yourself to take a few bites. Stella, on the other hand, eats with an unhurried elegance, her demeanor never faltering.

Once lunch is finished, Stella dabs her lips with a napkin and stands. "I'll head to the NFS now. Stay reachable. I'll contact you as soon as I have any updates!"

Jake rises to pay the bill, nodding to Stella. "Thank you, Stella. We appreciate everything you’re doing.”

Stella gives a curt nod and walks away with her briefcase in hand. Jake returns to you, helping you to your feet and guiding you out of the restaurant. The drive home is quiet, Jake occasionally glancing over at you, but you remain silent, lost in your thoughts. The weight of the accusations, the potential outcomes, and the sheer injustice of it all consume you.

When you arrive home, the quiet comfort of your surroundings does little to alleviate your anxiety. As soon as you step inside, you turn to Jake, your eyes pleading. You need a distraction, something to take your mind off the nightmare your life has become.

You step closer, hands trembling as you start to unbuckle his belt.

Jake's hands cover yours, stopping you. “____, not like this."

"Please, Jake," you whisper, your voice cracking with the weight of your desperation. "I need to focus on something other than what's going on. I need you."

Jake's resistance falters at the raw vulnerability in your eyes. He pulls you close, his lips finding yours in a kiss that starts gentle but quickly becomes urgent. You cling to him, needing his touch, his presence, to ground you.

His hands move to lift your hoodie, and you remove his shirt before guiding him to the bedroom. The need to lose yourself in him, to escape the crushing reality even for a moment, drives every action. You reach for his belt again, and this time he doesn't stop you.

"Are you sure?" he murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and reassuring.

You nod, your fingers deftly undoing the buckle. "I'm sure. I need this, Jake. I need you.”

The moment you step foot in Jake’s bedroom, you feel the temperature rise. Your clammy hands shake almost imperceptibly in his while Jake slowly pulls you closer towards his bed. Almost as if he can sense your nervousness, Jake’s eyes soften; his fingers lightly grip your chin and turn you up and towards him. He can see the anxiousness in your eyes and feel the way your body trembles near his.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this. We can just cuddle or something,” Jake says, his hands moving to trace your side. His touch is completely attentive, fingers slowly massaging your flesh through your clothing. Reflexively, your eyes flutter, a soft whine escaping your lips. His words cause your heart to clench, and you quickly shake your head, your hair following the movement. “No. I want this. I want you,” you whisper as you look earnestly into his eyes.

Steeling every single nerve you have, you gather yourself and run your hand down his sculpted chest and towards his clothed length. Jake lets out a pained moan as you begin palming him through his slacks. You can almost feel everything through his boxers. He’s still a little soft, but despite that, he feels huge under your palm.

“Ah,” Jake gasps. Then, as one of your fingers runs along the length of his shaft through his clothing, he hisses. Completely taken by how he feels, you find yourself slowly admiring his cock. You can’t see it yet, but it radiates heat through his clothing as it pulses under your touch, slowly hardening. He grows under your touch, slacks just barely tenting as you continue to palm him through the material of his clothing.

“Fuck… princess,” Jake breathes out, his face scrunched up in pleasure. You stare up at him, eyes scanning across his features as your hand slowly goes past the barrier and into his briefs. Your hand curls around his length before pumping up and down. When he lets out a pained groan, his eyes slowly shutting at your ministrations, you find your core clenching. Jake looks beautiful.

Jake suddenly pulls your hand away and shakes his head. “No, this is about you.” He unbuttons your jeans and slides them down your legs with your underwear.

“Come ‘ere,” Jake says, reaching out for you. He takes your hand within his before pulling you towards the bed. He takes a seat first and then slides his pants and boxers down, his hands then perch themselves on your hips, and he pulls you further between his thighs. Long, dexterous fingers trace along your hips and towards the hem of your top before sliding it up your torso, completely taking it off. He presses his face against your stomach, and you shiver when his lips run along the flesh, his breath fanning your stomach. Then, he’s guiding you to sit on his thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jake says, looking up at you as his hand cups your jaw while his thumb runs over your swollen lips. His words cause your eyes to soften, and you cup his jaw with both your hands before kissing him tenderly. Jake’s eyes slip shut before deepening the kiss. You begin grinding against his thighs, your core completely soaked, aching with the need for him.

Feeling your hot pussy against his naked thigh, Jake slowly lifts you off of him before spinning around and laying you down on the bed. Jake braces himself over you as both his arms cage your body. His lips never leave yours, finding it almost impossible to pull away. Your tongues dance sensually, Jake’s caressing yours tenderly as he pours every ounce of his feelings into the kiss. The only reason you both finally pull away is due to the need for oxygen in both your lungs.

With a gasp, Jake breaks away, instead, peppering kisses along your jaw and down towards your neck. When his tongue scrapes against the outline of your clavicle you find yourself gasping. His teeth gently nibble your skin, pulling the flesh between his plush lips and sucking as he leaves marks on you. When he’s sufficiently marked you, he pulls away, admiring you. He places a soft kiss against the mark before angling his neck and kissing the underside of your jaw.

Jake shifts his body down so his face is just over your breasts. Brushing his lips over the hem of your bra, Jake’s mouth grazes your breasts just slightly. With a groan, you arch into his tender touch. He’s so gentle with you and even more tender with the way his lips ghost every inch of your chest.

“Jaeyun?” you ask, head tilting. Jake only hums in response, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your left breast before nuzzling into the soft skin.

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” you ask, and Jake chuckles against your skin. He buries his face between your breasts, letting your breasts encompass his face as he kisses along your sternum, just above the hem of your bra.

“Mhm… gotta undress you first,” Jake replies. You blink before you feel his fingers gently trail along your side and under your back. Aiding him, you arch your back, letting him fumble around with the clasp for a few moments before he unlocks it and tosses it across his room.

Once stripped of all your clothes, Jake gently pushes you back down on the bed before he begins trailing his slim fingers along your wet folds. You buck your hips into him, you can feel your wetness sticking and unsticking to the lace of your panties with your movements.

“What do you want, princess? Use your words.” He encourages as you involuntarily clench at nothing. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.”

“I-I want your fingers,” you’re cut off by Jake pinching your pussy lips. You release a loud moan and jerk your hips into his hand, “a-and your mouth.”

“Anything for my princess” He says and then slips your panties down your legs, Jake trails his fingers up and down your slit, gently brushing against it. He pushes one of his long digits into your dripping heat. Your breath quickens as he begins pumping the curled finger in and out slowly. You bite down on your lip, hard enough to draw blood.

Jake sinks a second finger into you, you hiss. He pulls his fingers out causing you to whine, hips chasing his hand as you buck into the air. He grins at you before sucking his fingers, licking your arousal clean off of them. You clench at the sight.

He leans down and places kisses on your body until he comes to your navel. He parts your legs and groans at the sight. You blush at the way he stares down your wet pussy and try to close your legs but he glares at you and shakes his head, “don’t.”

He parts your thighs again and leans down between them and places a soft kiss against your clit. You cry out and thrust your hip into his face. He pushes his lips against your clit, his tongue flicking and licking your nub as he sinks his fingers back into your snatch.

Messily, Jake eats you out, his tongue lashes against your clit as he plunges his fingers in and out of you at a high speed. He gently bites your clit and sucks harshly making you spasm. “I’m gonna cum.” You warn.

“Cum for me. Cum on my fingers,” Jake says, drawing out your orgasm. Your walls clench and he lets out a little groan, You shut your eyes tightly as you come undone all over his fingers and face.

He helps you ride out your high before stepping away and moving up your body to kiss you again. “You’re so beautiful.” He mutters against your lips. He steps away for a quick moment to take his cock into his right hand and pumps it a few times. “How do you want it baby?”

“Doggy. I want you inside me. I need you to fill me with your cum.” You breathe out, your voice soft and submissive. You look at him timidly. Your lips are parted to release whimpers. “Can you please fuck me?”

Jake gulps at your words, he’s always heard that you were known for being blunt but never would he have expected that. Your words send a reaction straight to his cock which is painfully hard.

“Lay on your stomach,” he demands, pinning his dark eyes on you. “Now.”

You scramble to do as he says. You flip yourself so you’re laying down on your stomach and wait for him to touch you, your body heating up at the thought of having his dick inside you. You can hear him step closer to you and can feel his presence by your legs. A surprised gasp escapes your lips when he slides his arm under your stomach and lifts you up. He drags your body closer to the edge of the mattress so that you are bending over the bed but he doesn’t let go of you just yet.

He grabs a few pillows from the head of his bed and slides them under your hips, propping you up. You let out a little content sigh as he drops your body. You can feel the bed dip as he rests a knee beside your hip. You jolt forward when he spanks your ass with full force. You wait with baited breath as Jake squeezes your cheeks. You moan at the feeling of him fondling your bum.

“You have such a pretty ass.” He mutters in a low appreciative growl.

You blush but say nothing to the compliment. Jake decides to be merciful and stops fondling your ass. He positions himself at the back of your thighs and puts his weight very lightly on you. He uses his hands to pull your cheeks apart, spreading them to make sure you are well lubricated. When he sees how your womanhood is glistening with slick and cum he hums, “you’re so wet for me, princess.”

He shuffles up the bed a little bit and lets go of your ass. You feel his cock tap on your bottom. “Are you ready, love?”

You hum and wiggle your bottom. You let out a little mewl when you feel his tip tease your entrance. He rubs his cock up and down your slit to coat his tip with your slick. You both let out shaky breaths as he slips his thickness inside you, your tight walls milking his throbbing length. You whimper and mewl at the pleasure, your entire body heating up with want. Jake stays like this for a few moments to let you adjust to the feeling before he starts to slip in and out of you. His thrusts start to pick up speed, hitting the right spot each time, leaving you a moaning mess. He is grunting and breathing loudly behind you. The sound of his hips slapping against your bouncing ass is loud.

“You’re such a good girl, ____.” Jake grunts, slamming his cock deep and hard into your pussy. You let out a high pitched gasp at the feeling. The pleasure is so amazing that you push your ass out even more, directly pressing your ass on his hips. Jake hikes his other leg up next to you and leans down to lay his body on you. He slides his hands under your arms then he leans down to press a soft kiss on your nape. He lays a few kisses on your neck and flexes his muscles to hold him up better, he picks up his pace again and starts fucking you hard and fast. He groans into your ear and starts whispering dirty things into your ear. The faster he goes the closer you feel to your climax.

He brings his elbows closer together so that you are wedged tighter between his arms. “F…fuck, princess,” he whines, “I’m going to cum in you.” You hum and lift your ass.

“Please do.”

He fucks you deep and hard, each thrust filled with overflowing love and passion. Jake lets out a low growl into your ear and in one more powerful thrust, he fills you up with his warm sticky cum. But he’s relentless, he continues to fuck you through his climax. You whine and mewl, you feel so full with both his thick cock and cum shoved in you, in no time you feel your orgasm crashing through your body.

Jake continues to thrust in and out of you as you both ride out your highs. Once you’ve both calmed down he slides off of you and removes the pillows so your hips can touch the bed. He pulls you close to him and covers you both with his blanket.

You and Jake lay entwined in the bed, the warmth of his body a comforting presence against the chill of your fears. The room is silent except for the gentle rhythm of your breaths, and for a while, it feels as though the world outside your bedroom doesn’t exist.

Jake breaks the silence first, his voice a gentle murmur against your hair. “Are you okay now? Do you want to talk about it?”

You take a deep breath, considering his question. You’re not okay, not really, but talking might help. You turn to face him, your eyes meeting his gaze. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

Jake’s hold on you tightens slightly, offering silent support. You begin, telling him what Anton had told you about Sungchan’s call, about the preparations for you to leave Korea. Jake’s jaw tightens as you speak, a flash of anger in his eyes at the thought of someone trying to take you away from him. He pulls you closer, as if to shield you from even the idea of being taken away.

“I don’t want to suspect my own brother,” you continue, your voice trembling. “It doesn’t even make sense. But I don’t know who to trust anymore.”

Jake’s expression softens, but there’s a hard edge to his eyes. “I didn’t want to say this before, but I had Jay and Jungwon do some digging on the missing baggie boys. They caught one of the guys sneaking into our territory and got him to talk. He confessed that he was sent by Sungchan.”

The news hits you like a punch to the gut and your heart sinks at the revelation, a sense of betrayal twisting in your chest. "Sungchan?" you whisper, your voice barely audible. "My own brother?"

Jake nods, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and concern. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't want to believe it either."

You sit up suddenly, a memory flooding back to you. "Oh my gosh," you gasp, your eyes wide with realization.

Jake sits up as well, worry etched across his features. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"The night of the dinner party, the one where you proposed. Sungchan promised me he would do whatever it took to get me back home. I didn't think much of it at the time, but now.." Your voice trails off, tears welling up in your eyes as the pieces start to fall into place.

Jake wraps his arms around you, his touch warm and grounding. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I can't believe he'd go this far."

But you’re already moving, slipping out of bed and hurriedly getting dressed. “I have to meet with Sungchan. I need to know the truth.”

Jake is out of bed in an instant, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “No, it’s too dangerous. He’s already proven he’s willing to hurt you. He’s framing you for murder, for fuck’s sake.”

You shake your head, your resolve firm. “He’s my brother, Jake. He won’t hurt me. His goal isn’t to harm me, but to help me.”

“Things might have changed,” Jake argues, his grip tightening. “Especially if he’s the one who ordered the hit on us!”

You pull away, fear and impatience in your eyes. “I have to do this alone, Jake. Please, understand.”

Jake follows you as you head towards the door, desperation in his voice. “At least take Niki with you if you won’t take me.”

You stop for a moment, turning to face him. The pain in his eyes almost makes you reconsider, but you shake your head. “I need to do this alone, Jake. It’s the only way I’ll get answers.”

Without waiting for his response, you rush out of the house, grabbing your keys and heading to the car. Jake stands at the doorway, watching helplessly as you drive off, his worry and anger a palpable weight on his shoulders.

As you speed through the streets, your mind races with possibilities. Sungchan, your own brother, could be behind this entire mess. The thought tears at your heart, but you need to know the truth. You need to confront him and find out what’s really going on, no matter the cost.

You bang on the door to Sungchan’s apartment, anger, betrayal and fear all coursing through your body as you wait for him to respond.

“Fuck, wait a second.” You hear from the other side before the door is pulled open and you’re met with a disheveled looking Sungchan.

"____?" he says, his voice a mix of confusion and concern. "What are you doing here?"

You step closer to his face, your eyes locking onto his.

"We need to talk, Sungchan. Now."

He steps aside to let you in, closing the door behind you. "What's going on?" he asks, his voice wary.

"You've been behind all of this, haven't you?" you say, your voice trembling with anger and hurt. "The missing baggie boys, the attempt on my life, framing me for Chief Minho's murder?"

Sungchan's eyes widen in shock. "What are you talking about? I've been trying to protect you!"

"Protect me? By framing me for murder then sending me off to France?" you say, your voice rising. "How is that protection?"

"I didn't frame you for murder," he says, his voice honest. "I've been trying to find out who did. I called Anton to make preparations because I thought you were in danger, not because I wanted to take the fall!"

Sungchan's words hang in the air, a mix of desperation and sincerity. You feel a knot tightening in your stomach as you try to make sense of it all.

You take a step closer, your voice trembling.

"Sungchan, I need to understand. If you're not framing me, then who is?"

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not the one framing you…but I did bribe Chief Minho."

Your eyes widen in shock. "You what?"

"I bribed the Chief to cause more chaos for Jake, to distract him," Sungchan admits, his voice low and filled with anger. "I thought if Jake was preoccupied, it would buy me enough time to make the preparations to get you out of the country."

You feel a mix of anger and betrayal. "You bribed him to create chaos? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Sungchan looks away, guilt etched on his face. "I didn't call a hit on you, this is the first I'm even hearing about it. I would never go that far."

"Then who did?" you demand, your voice rising. "Who is trying to kill me and frame me for murder?"

"I don't know," Sungchan admits, his voice soft. "But I swear to you, it wasn't me."

The tension in the room is palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You search his eyes, looking for any sign of deception, but all you see is the brother you've always known, the brother who has always tried to protect you in his own misguided way.

"Why, Sungchan?" you ask, your voice breaking. "Why are you doing this?"

He takes a deep breath, his eyes swirling with sadness.

"Because I'm trying to save you, ____. This life you're living, it's not safe. I just wanted to give you a chance to escape, to go to Paris like you always dreamed."

“If you thought I was in danger, why didn’t you come to me directly?” you demand, your voice shaking. “Why all this secrecy?”

“Because you wouldn’t have listened!” Sungchan replies, frustration creeping into his tone. “You’re so wrapped up in your new life with Jake, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

You shake your head, trying to comprehend. “So you thought the best way to protect me was to have me forcibly taken away from my home, my husband?”

Sungchan’s eyes narrow. “Would it really be so bad? Leaving Jake behind and going to Paris? That’s all you ever wanted, right? To leave and go to Paris with Anton and Haru. I’m doing you a favor.”

You recoil at his words, a wave of disgust washing over you. “A favor? How is sending me away from my husband a favor?”

Sungchan’s expression hardens. “Jake isn’t a good person, ____. Don’t you remember? You begged me to get you out of the engagement.”

Your anger flares. “That was before I knew him! Jaeyun is a good person, Sungchan. You don’t know him.”

“Jaeyun?” He spits out, “you’re on a first name basis now? Fucking great. He’s worse than our father,” Sungchan snaps. “Has he brainwashed you already?”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. “I know what he does, I’ve seen it firsthand. I live with the man! But he’s never hurt me, and he’s made it very clear that he never will. That’s more than I can say for our father.”

Sungchan’s expression falters at the mention of your father. Memories of the abuse you both suffered flicker in his eyes, and he seems to deflate a bit, the fight going out of him.

“Please, Sungchan,” you beg, your voice softening. “Stop this. I can take care of myself.”

Sungchan’s face hardens again, and he shakes his head. “If I could, I would. But it’s out of my hands.”

He moves to open the door, his expression closed off. “You need to leave.”

You stare at him, disbelief and hurt welling up inside you. “Sungchan, please…”

He doesn’t respond, only gestures for you to go. You feel tears prick at your eyes as you step outside, the door closing behind you with a finality that breaks your heart.

You stand on his doorstep, tears streaming down your face, the weight of the betrayal crashing down on you. After what feels like an eternity, you force yourself to move, getting into your car and driving back home to Jake.

The drive is a blur of tears and painful memories. By the time you pull into the driveway, you’re exhausted, emotionally and physically. You stumble into the house, Jake rushing to meet you as soon as he hears the door.

“____,” he says, his voice full of concern. “What happened?”

You collapse into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Jake holds you tightly, his hand soothingly running up and down your back. “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice a calming presence.

“I don’t know what to do,” you cry, your words muffled against his chest. “Sungchan… he’s behind everything. He wanted to send me away. He thinks he’s protecting me.”

Jake pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes. “Tell me everything,” he says softly.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Sungchan isn’t working alone. He told me he wasn’t behind the hit and my framing. I know my brother, Jake. He wasn’t lying. He’s working with someone else, I can feel it.”

Jake’s brow furrows. “Why do you think that?”

“Because he knew too much,” you explain. “There’s a mole within your circle. The chief went missing before he could carry out what Sungchan had paid him for, so that means someone else has been feeding him information.”

Jake’s expression darkens, but he nods. “I expected as much. The only people we can trust are Jay and Sunghoon.”

Just then, Jake’s phone rings. He answers it and puts it on speaker. “Sunghoon, what’s up?”

“Jake, you and ____ need to get to the safe house. Now,” Sunghoon’s urgent voice comes through the line.

You and Jake exchange glances before you both head to his car and drive off to the location. The tension in the car is palpable, but you remain silent, trying to process everything.

When you arrive at the safe house, Sunghoon is waiting for you. “What’s going on?” Jake asks as soon as you step inside.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on Sungchan like you asked,” Sunghoon begins, glancing briefly at you. Jake side-eyes you, but you’re not mad. You nod in understanding.

“It’s only expected with how Sungchan has been behaving,” you say quietly.

Sunghoon continues, “I had Sunoo tail him. Sungchan has been meeting up with Yerin for months, starting six months ago.”

Jake furrows his brows. “What do you mean? He's been meeting my stepmother?”

Jay steps in, his expression awkward and tense. “He’s been meeting her at hotels and bars. Sungchan has been sleeping with your stepmother, Jake.”

Your stomach churns with disgust at your brother’s actions. Jake looks dumbfounded. “Is Yerin the one behind everything?” he asks, his voice tinged with disbelief and anger.

Sunghoon nods. “From what we’ve gathered, it seems Yerin is the brains behind the operation. She’s been using Sungchan and Heeseung as her goons to carry out acts on the ground. I have no doubt she’s behind the chief’s death and you being framed for it.”

Jake’s jaw tightens as he processes this information. “What does Heeseung have to do with this?”

Sunghoon sighs. “When he ran into ____ at the police station, it was to have the lieutenant call in a fake witness for the chief’s murder case. He’s part of the reason why the cops have a solid case against ____.”

Jake’s anger flares, his fists clenching. “What now?”

You stand more confidently, meeting Jake’s gaze. “Send me in.”

taglist: @dreamiestay @inkpot-winters @minniejenseo @faithnsstuff @sumzysworld @sunpov @laurradoesloveu

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la2yn0va · 4 months ago

Text

Friends…?

Characters: Jiaoqiu, Feixiao, Male Reader (Moze is mentioned)

(Can be taken as platonic or romantic. If romantic it’s a one-sided crush from the characters)

————

-Childhood-

“Hey! Get a load of this loser!” A boy said as he pushed another against the wall. A pink-haired foxian—Jiaoqiu. Jiaoqiu’s ears stayed down as he shuddered fearfully.

“L-leave me alone!” He pleaded shakily, which fell on deaf ears. “Hah~? But I haven’t even started yet you pathetic fox” the bully harshly tugged on his ears as three others laughed behind him and Jiaoqiu yelped in pain, tears forming as they usually do. “S-STOP!! PLEASE IT HURTS!!”

Once again, no one heard his pleas. He was left alone to cry as his four tormentors laughed at him. “Come on! Do something about it you useless loser~! I thought foxian’s were meant to be smart! But you’re just a pathetic freak!”

Then, a boy seemingly appearing out of nowhere, jumped up and slammed his feet against the back of two laughing bullies. “H-HUH!!? WHAT THE—!!” Before the other one could finish, he was met with a chop to the jugular.

The boy then faced the leader, who had let go of jiaoqiu’s ear and stared fearfully at the boy who had just knocked out his three friends “Who—” a punch to his gut quickly shut him up before slamming his bicep against the leaders neck and bashing him against a wall, successfully knocking him out.

Jiaoqiu stared in awe and slight fear. He had never seen someone around his age so fast and easily knock out four boys under a minute! “You okay foxy?” The boy asked making jiaoqiu jump slightly before nodding. He walked up to him and jiaoqiu tried to back away unsuccessfully, still abit fearful of being hit, however, he was…being patted on the head?

“Huh…?” “So fluffy and soft. I’m jealous of you” The boy said with a small smile, easing the nerves of the bullied foxian. “I’m M/n. What’s your name foxy?” “I-I..I’m Jiaoqiu” “well jiaoqiu. I like you. And you’re my friend now”

From that day on, m/n was always seen by jiaoqiu’s side. Weather it was in the library reading on medicine, or in a back alley, beating down on some bullies or even thieves. “Hey jiaoqiu. If a woman can only produce one gender, does that make their womb weak or special?” “Please m/n.. I’m a chief...stop asking me those questions…”

Jiaoqiu dreamed of being a chief yet also a healer to help the military combat the abominations of the abundance. He tried to convince m/n to join the military as m/n was easily the strongest person he knew… well… besides someone else.

“Hey. Why do you want to join the cloud knights? You’re basically giving up your life to some people you don’t have any connection with.. I think it’s pretty dumb.”

“That’s… not how I see it… I want to get rid of the abundance monsters because.. well.. they killed my mom and dad. Not to mention the borisin who ensalved my kind are apparently working with those monsters… I feel like it’s my duty to be on the war and make sure no one dies”

“Huh… I guess I never thought of it like that… At least your not giving up your life for a bunch of nobodies” M/n said, patting jiaoqiu as he usually did making his friend blush a bit. “Sure.. look if you join the cloud knights-” “I already said no” “You will find a person that can beat you!”

That seemed to catch m/n’s interest “Huh? What’re you talking about? I’ve never lost a fight, even with trained cloud knights” “Well… these this girl in the cloud knights. One who I.. owe a debt to. Her name is feixiao and she’s easily the strongest person I know.. maybe even stronger than you” he said teasingly.

M/n stayed silent. He isn’t actually gonna join for a dumb reason like that.. is he? No. No. He doesn’t care about the people of yaoqing, he doesn’t have any connection with them… but then again… being on the battlefield and fighting… meeting this feixiao…releasing his own anger on the enemies of the xianzhou… maybe it is where he’s meant to go… “Fine. I’ll bite”

“M/n… where are your parents..?” “I don’t have any” “Huh?” “Yep. I’ve been a street kid for as long as I remember.” Jiaoqiu felt his tail fall and his ears flop “o-oh.. I-I’m sorry” “why? Did you take them away from me” “I-What!? No I just—” “Ha. Calm down, I’m joking around… plus… I don’t care… I don’t care… I just really don’t care”

—Young Adult Years—

M/n was thriving in the cloud knights. He was easily the best of the upcoming graduates. Hell probably even the best of those who ALREADY graduated! His instructors showed special attention to him, wishing the hone and sharpen his skills even further to battle the enemies of the hunt.

His fellow trainee’s looked up to him. Even calling him ‘Big Brother M/n’. He fought with multiple weapons instead of a sword or a spear, as he wished to be adaptable and unpredictable in the battlefield. Something his instructors agreed on, yet also reminded him to use his great mind for intellectual plays as well. Something m/n was obviously and already planning on doing.

Then one day, the instructors decided to hold a special little event. They would bring a cloud knight here to fight m/n. Just to put on a little show and give m/n the fun he looked for. That cloud knight happened to be Feixiao.

“At ease soldiers!” The instructor commanded, as all the soilders relaxed and faced their commander. “Now. As I’m sure you’re all aware, we’ve decided to hold a special event. Everyone! Greet your senior. Could Knight: Feixiao” “MORNING CLOUD KNIGHT FEIXIAO!!” “Ah…! Feixiao…! That’s the woman…” m/n remembered jiaoqiu mentioning her being stronger than him.

“Trainee M/n! Step forward, Solider!!” M/n walked forward as he met feixiao, who looked outwardly enthusiastic yet her eyes held a type of boredom and interest. “Feixiao. I’m sure you’ve been informed why you’ve been summoned here” The White Haired-Foxian nodded with a charming smile “Yeah. I’m meant to fight your best trainee. This Him? I’ve heard quite the story about you Soilder”

“All good I hope” “Mhm. Shall we get started?” “Straight to the point. I like you already” The trainees formed a circle around the two as they were handed wooden swords. “I’ve heard a lot about you from jiaoqiu” “Ohh! No wonder your name sounded familiar. Jiaoqiu also told me a lot about you” “yeah. Thanks for being with him in the cloud knights” “Thanks for being with him during his childhood” They nodded before getting ready to battle. They stared intensely at each other before the whistle blew and they ran at each other.

They clashed the wooden swords together, leaning in the glare at the other with determination. They then jumped away and swung their swords at each other while trying to kick the other. Feixiao was surprised, usually no one would’ve lasted this long against her, jiaoqiu really wasn’t kidding when he said m/n was impressive.

M/n swung his sword and hit her sword before ducking and throwing a sweep kick, which feixiao jumped over and m/n quickly spun around, planting his hand on the ground and pushing himself up to send a kick to feixiao who once again blocked it with her own kick.

The two stood stun locked as they stared at the other in awe. However, they quickly shoved each other away and m/n threw his sword towards her, which she dodged as his sword was stabbed onto the ground and m/n ran towards her, his arm out to close line her. She dodged and she swung her sword which he slide under, moved up and jumped at his sword. One foot kicked the sword and he used it and his momentum to swing around and send a kick to feixiao, while grabbing his sword.

Feixiao looked suprised at this but quickly blocked his kick and ducked his sword swing before slamming him onto the ground and planting her foot on his stomach, making her the victor. M/n stared in surprise.. he actually lost? While feixiao stared in excitement. A rival. She had actually found a rival. “Hahaha~! Not bad! You’re definitely cloud knight material! I’m surprised you didn’t join or graduate earlier!!” She said, helping him up. And, a smiling m/n held onto her hand as excitement shined in his eyes “Holy shit!! You’re Fucking amazing!! No ones ever been able to beat me before!!” M/n quickly hugged her from excitement, making the cloud knight laugh in embarrassment and amusement.

The instructor watched nervously.. maybe getting two battle hungry solider to fight against each other who also haven’t lost a battle wasn’t a good idea. The other trainee’s stared in awe at the battle in front of them, feeling excitement of their own rise up as they yelled and chanted their names.

A couple months later, the trainee’s were graduating and they were choosing which division they wanted to join. Y/n had gotten a recommendation from every division, But he only had his eyes sent on one division. Feixiao’s who had recently became the lieutenant colonel of said division. Hell the recommendation was from her. So, without a second thought. He already made his decision.

The next day, he was personally greeted by feixiao. M/n quickly jumped up to hug her, excited to fight alongside her AND possible fight her. Luckily for him, feixiao didn’t push him away but gladly embraced him with a giggle of her own, the favoritism for m/n from lieutenant colonel Feixiao was painfully obvious.

The next few weeks, the new recruits were being tested to see which battalion they’d thrive in. The aviation, Medicare, Army Corps, Special Forces, etc. M/n was personally chosen by feixiao to join her own battalion in the special forces, his potential and skill easily exceeded everyone else. That and favoritism. M/n joined feixiao, jiaoqiu and a man named moze who was apparently a prison breaker/assassin… something told him he’d get along with him the most. Those were the only ones who m/n bothered to remember, everyone else were just another number to him.

“And you’ll be sleeping here” Feixiao said as m/n flopped on the bed gleefully. “Ahh~ joining the cloud knights was definitely the right choice” “I’m glad you decided to join. I’ve been much more excited since our battle back at the academy” “Speaking of which. I want a rematch! Me and you! Wooden swords again! Once I beat you with that— THEN we can use our real weapons!” He said excitedly which made feixiao laugh, patting his head “Hahahaha~ Sure m/n. But not now, I have something’s I need to take care of” “Booo” he pouted which made feixiao snicker “cute” she thought, bopping his nose and walking out “see you tomorrow Solider”

She waved and exited his room as another entered—Jiaoqiu “Hey there foxy” “Hello m/n. How’s your first day” “Amazing! Meeting feixiao just made my life even better!! You weren’t being a sly cunning manipulative piece of shit when you said she was strong!” “Ahaha.. indeed”

—Adult Years—

Years had passed since m/n joined feixiao. He was now a fully fledged vice lieutenant along side Feixiao. Battle the borisin and abominations of the abundance, freeing enslaved foxians. Meeting people from different ships of the xianzhou. However, m/n has been off as of late.

No one knows why and when they try to question him about it he just acts like nothing’s wrong. This was especially worrying for feixiao, jiaoqiu and moze. They hadn’t seen m/n like this ever. He was always excited for a battle yet stoic when hanging out, but now he was just stoic. That child like yet charming excitement had seemingly disappeared.

Jiaoqiu tried to up lift his spirits by asking him some of the strange questions he once asked him as a kid. Feixiao tried to battle him daily yet that seemed to fail again. Moze tried to help by teaching him some criminal actions like how to escape from the shackling prison and things along that line, it seemed to work slightly but still no significant changes.

Moze felt uneasy, feixiao felt her heart ache, and jiaoqiu felt useless and pathetic—m/n was his one and only childhood friend yet he couldn’t for the life of him find out why or what was making m/n feeling down. M/n didn’t even come out of his room unless it was for battling. This would not stand any longer. So, feixiao took initiative.

“M/n. It’s feixiao, I’m coming in” She said, walking in to see m/n blankly staring at the celling. Feixiao called out his name a bit louder which managed to get his attention “Oh.. Feixiao… another battlefield to go to?” He said blankly, which irked the lieutenant even more, she hated that tone, that blank, emotionless, robotic tone didn’t suit m/n. “No. I’m here for you” “Huh?” Feixiao sat down next to her friend, facing him with a determined look. “What’s wrong with you?” “Hmm?” “Your demeanor! You’ve been all robotic for the last few months now! Do you know how worried I’ve been…!? How worried Jiaoqiu and Moze are!!?”

“It’s…I didn’t know—” “That too! Since when are you blind to our emotions!? You’re the first that knows when someone’s acting off!” M/n stayed silent, just staring at his worried lieutenant “Come on m/n. Please tell me what’s been eating away at you. I can’t handle it to see you being like this a second longer!”

“….a few months ago. You sent me on a mission to eradicate a Disciple of Sanctus Medicus commander. He was hiding in a remote town in the countryside. But when I was there… I found a family… I found my mom. She looked.. happy. When I approached her she didn’t even recognize me. Not just that but I’ve been.. I-I was starting to care for the people of yaoqing… I ignored my mission and tried to get to know the mom I never had, along with my half sister. But it seemed like my mom felt uncomfortable by me. Because I ignored my mission, everyone in that town were murdered, but my mom… she was turned into one of the monsters. Then.. her dying words were ‘why did you come back! How are you alive!!? I left you for the borisin to get mauled!! You got my husband murdered now you come back and get me and my perfect life without you destroyed!! You were always a demon brat!! You can’t even die properly!! I never loved you, so why the fuck would you think I wanted to bond with you after all these years!!!’ Her last words, before you guys came and saved me… she didn’t even want me to be born. She left me to the borisin to get fucking mutilated. But since I’ve started to care about the people of yaoqing.. this FUCKING itch has been in my mind that I can’t scratch!! I-I feel like because I started to care IM the reason why those people died a meaningless death!! It’s because I’ve been more emotional that I ignored my mission and tried to get to know my—my….My ‘birther’. I just… I don’t know how to feel. I don’t—”

Before he could continue, feixiao quickly brought him into her embrace, comforting the confused and depressed man as he cried into her shoulder “It’s okay… I got you.. I’m here for you… WERE here for you. Someone like you didn’t deserve such a bitch for a mom” she comforted him as he silently cried, slowly he fell asleep from fatigue and feixiao held him in her arms, picking him up to lock the door before laying herself and him on his bed, sleeping while holding him closely.

Weeks later, m/n seemed to return to his usual self but much less upbeat. He felt much closer to feixiao now and she was definitely keeping an eye on him much more, much to jiaoqiu’s confusion and sliiiiiiight jealousy. Moze just seemed glad that everything returned to normal. Later they’re was a red alert, the enemies of the hunt had teamed up with the borisin to attack a city.

All divisions quickly ran to the battlefield that was the city, massive clash can be heard from miles and miles away. Slowly, the city was being destroyed and both sides were begging to fall. This battle lasted for 3 whole months before the cloud knights came out victorious. Many soldiers fell yet one person was no where to be found. They searched everywhere, every sinkhole made, under every fallen building, and even a 50 mile radius to find him. But m/n was nowhere to be found.

Feixiao, Jiaoqiu, and Moze were hit the hardest by this. M/n had just started to return to normal, and now he was missing. No body, no scrap of dna, no armor or clothing. He just vanished. Feixiao refused to make a burial for m/n. She refused to accept that he was dead, she wouldn’t even humor it, the same for Jiaoqiu, who became even more attached to feixiao and despite to repay his debt to her, Moze became much more reclusive.

Years later, m/n was found. When feixiao and jiaoqiu heard this news, their face lit up like never before. They begged Moze to take them to him. But instead they were handed a paper. A wanted paper for Stellaron Hunter M/n. Bounty— 10,799,000,000

———

#honkai star rail #hsr #male reader #feixiao #jiaoqiu #feixiao x male reader #jiaoqiu x male reader #xianzhou yaoqing #one-sided crush #character crushing on reader

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zepskies · 11 days ago

Text

The Honorable Choice - Part 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: The last chapter! Hold on, it's about to get bumpy...

Disclaimer: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

**Pronunciation guide at the end!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: @jacklesversebingo Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 5.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Protective Dean, survival situations, smut (mutual masturbation, fingering, and more), angst, and fluff.

🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 3: Worthy

They travel together for two more days. Dean isn’t really a talkative man, but inevitably, he finds himself speaking to fill the comfortable stretches of quiet plodding across the grasslands.

He tells her about growing up on his family’s farm, where his father was firm but fair, and a larger-than-life presence when Sam and Dean were kids. His mother though, she was the only one who could ever go toe to toe with John Winchester and win.

“She tamed him,” Mila remarks with a smile. Dean’s lips quirk in response.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he chuckles, “but he knew he couldn’t pull a whole lot of shit with Mom. She’s a real pistol when she’s gotta be.”

Talking about them makes his heart heavy and sobers his mood, so he deflects with other stories, other chapters of his life.

He talks about going through basic training alongside Benny Lafitte. As privates, Dean pranked his friend by filling his lumpy old pillow with raw eggs and chicken feathers. In retaliation, Benny swapped Dean’s morning coffee with actual dirt and hot water. Their boyish games escalated until they were nearly kicked out of the military.

Dean managed to smooth things over though. He’s always had a way of charming people, even the gruff Sergeant Major, Bobby Singer.

Mila admits that she and her cousin Šóta used to sneak out of the village when they were younger. He taught her how to climb trees, how to fight and protect herself, and how to ride a horse astride, like a man. He was the only one who ever encouraged her to have the “free mind” her mother dreamed about.

The more she confides in him, her eyes sparking with life and her hands gesticulating along with her words, the more Dean listens.

On the third day, it’s nearing mid-afternoon when Dean slows Baby to a stop. After miles and miles of forest and grassland covered, they’ve finally approached a large, wide river. Mila stops beside him.

“My tribe lives beyond the river,” she says, “but the current is strong now.”

Dean looks over at her. A question he hasn’t wanted to ask crops back up. He feels that now is the time to voice it.

“Yeah, about that…I’m thinking your tribe doesn’t take very well to outsiders,” he says. “White men in particular.”

Mila presses her lips together. He can tell she’s been thinking the same thing, but she turns to him with a determined set to her features.

“I will protect you,” she says.

Dean frowns. He doesn’t like the sound of that. On one hand, it warms him that she seems to really mean it. On the other hand, he doesn’t want to know what it’ll take for her to protect him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

She turns her face away and doesn’t seem to want to answer at first.

“Mila…”

“The Chief is my uncle,” she says at last. “He will listen to me.”

Dean blinks. Well, that changes things…maybe.

He’s still not convinced, but at this point, he really doesn’t have many options. It’s either take his chances with her tribe, or become a vagabond. He’s not sure how long he could survive in wilds of the West alone, especially while trying to dodge military patrols.

In the past three days, it’s taken Dean all that time to come to terms with a simple fact. He’ll likely never see his brother again, or his mother. It’s a pain that cuts into him deeply, down to his bones. It stings behind his eyes.

But if he only has two choices, then he at least wants to make sure Mila gets home safely…even if that means he won’t be.

He’s come this far. If his career is worth the price of what he feels is right, then his life is worth it too.

With that decision made, Dean expels a long, somewhat faltering breath. He locks away the rest of his uncertainty, his apprehension, and even his grief. He hides deep inside, where she won’t see it.

“All right, the current doesn’t look too bad over here,” he says, pointing to farther north along the river. “The horses can make it.”

Mila nods in agreement. She still looks uneasy, though she tries to hide it too. She ventures ahead into the river. Dean follows close behind.

The water is shallow at first, but it all too quickly gets deeper. The horses plod over the river stones and vegetation under the surface, and the humans are led deeper, until they’re submerged into the water up to their waists.

It’s good that Mila rides that giant mustang; if she were on a mare, like Dean, she’d already be sunk up to her shoulders. Baby’s a big girl, to be sure, but Mila is nearly a foot shorter than him, with a smaller frame. He watches her carefully as she makes her way ahead of him.

That’s why he’s able to act fast when Mato slips, dunking Mila under the water. She gasps and tries to cling onto him, but the current is fierce. It pushes Mato down the river no matter how much he scrambles and kicks at the water, braying wildly in distress.

Shit! Dean tugs sharply at Baby’s reigns and strives to catch up to them. He grabs Mato’s reigns and pulls and pulls, until he and Baby are able to drag him to the other side of the river where he can get a foothold with his hooves.

Mila is starting to fall off his back. She struggles to cling on while the river pushes at her, with her wet hair falling in her eyes. Dean leans back as far as he can to try and pull her up.

“It’s okay, I’ve gotcha,” he calls out, even though his heart hammers with alarm.

She reaches out for his hand in turn. Just as his fingers begin to close over hers, a wave from the current crashes into her. A short scream tears from her throat after she loses her grip on Mato’s neck. Without her weight, he’s able to pull himself back up onto the bank along with Baby.

Damn it! Gut-wrenching alarm spears Dean into action. He leaps down from Baby and removes his gloves, his hat, and his uniform jacket, so he can dive into the water. Thank God he’s a strong swimmer.

Mila seems to be too. She carves through the water against the current the best she can and tries to keep her head above the waves, but Dean can see it’s a losing battle. He manages to grab hold of her arm, and then wraps an arm around her waist to keep her close. Both of them work together to try and cling to any passing rock or low-hanging vine as the current sweeps them out toward an ultimate end.

A waterfall.

Of course. Goddamn it. Dean doesn’t know how steep it is on the other side, and he doesn’t want to know. All he’s trying to do is keep himself and Mila above the water.

She hooks her hand around a sharp rock. It bites into her hand, making her cry out, but she clings to it for all she’s worth. She holds onto Dean just as tightly, even though the current wants to take him. She tries to pull him closer, close enough for him to get a hold on the rock as well.

This time, it’s Dean who loses his footing. The rocks slip beneath the soles of his feet when he attempts to gain some leverage.

A shout of surprise escapes from him when he fails, and it gets swallowed up by water rushing down his throat.

“Dean!” Mila yells, for the first time using his name. The last thing he registers is the fear in her eyes—afraid for him.

The river takes him over the edge of the abyss, and he falls.

He never expected that he would get to open his eyes again, let alone to the sight that greets him. Mila’s familiar face, framed by the dark, drying waves of her hair, is bright with firelight. It dances in orange-gold across her features. Her eyes are warm like rich molasses when she looks down and finds him awake.

She smiles in relief.

He realizes that he’s lying on soft grass with his head pillowed in her lap. She’s taken off his boots and half of his white undershirt; she tore one of his sleeves to wrap around a mercifully shallow gash in his shoulder.

The horses are drinking from the river nearby, with a pile of apples split between them. There’s a fish roasted over the fire, but all Dean cares about is the way her fingers are running through his hair. She sings a soft song under her breath while she passes her other hand over his injured arm without touching it.

He doesn’t understand the words, but he thinks she might be trying to heal him. He’s heard plenty of stories about the Sioux people, most he’s taken with a grain of salt. He does remember Cas saying that their healers are different from doctors.

Dean’s never given their hoodoo much thought, but right about now, he hopes it works.

“Mornin’,” he croaks.

Mila’s relieved face becomes touched with amusement.

“It’s night,” she says. “You slept for a long time.”

Dean wants to sit up and take an inventory of his injuries, but he can’t make his body move just yet. He’s too tired and bruised. He also likes being in her arms. He likes her fingers in his hair, now moving to his cheek. He sighs through his nose in contentment as her thumb drifts over his overgrown stubble.

“Thank you,” she says. Emotion is thick in her voice.

Dean meets her eyes again, and he smiles. He raises the back of his hand to touch her smooth cheek, gently. He lets his fingers glide across her tan skin, down the column of her neck. Her breath hitches.

She takes his calloused hand in her slender one. Her long hair falls like a curtain over her shoulder, almost like it’s shielding them from whatever is left to come for them beyond the forest. Dean wraps an ebony strand around his finger, just to feel it fall loosely again.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says.

Mila graces him with another smile from her lips. He wants to know what they taste like.

“I guess you are pretty, for a White Man,” she says teasingly.

Her fingers trace his brow, his jawline, even the tip of his chin. She seems to be avoiding his plush mouth, even though her gaze keeps dropping there. Dean pretends to frown.

“Sweetheart, that’s not the way you talk about a man,” he says.

Her brows raise. “No?”

“Handsome. Strong. Toothsome, if you will,” he says, enjoying the way she begins to blush. “That’s what you wanna call a man.”

“Toothsome. I don’t know this word,” she admits. “Am I supposed to eat you?”

Dean resists the urge to say the first incorrigible thing that pops into his head. Instead, his body shakes with laughter.

It’s difficult at first, all his muscles pulling at him in protest, but he raises himself into a sitting position. He cups Mila’s cheek, dragging his thumb across her lower lip. Her lashes are dark and long. They move when she looks up at him. He knows the look in her eyes, wanting, desiring, but also unsure of what she should allow him.

Dean leans in slowly, giving her time to decide.

She tilts her face up to his. He noses at her cheek, his eyes falling closed along with hers.

He finds her lips with his own on instinct and feeling alone. Soft and tender movements, testing, asking.

She answers him. Her fingers tangle in the front of his tattered shirt as her lips begin to move against his. Dean wraps an arm around her waist and gathers her against his chest. His other hand glides down her arm, down her side and along every soft curve. Her clothes are still damp, and so are his.

“It’ll be faster to dry our clothes if we’re not wearing ‘em,” Dean rumbles. His voice is deep with desire. He presses kisses along the side of her jaw, behind her ear, down her neck and shoulder. He earns her pleased hum, her heavier breaths, and her fingers once again in his hair.

“I can’t,” she gasps. She says something in her native tongue, too fast for Dean to even register. He slows down so he can meet her eyes.

“What was that?” he asks. Her face falls, and she starts to trip over her words.

“I am not…how you say, married. I have to be…”

Dean smiles ruefully, sliding a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Chaste?” he offers. She nods, her brows furrowed. Her grip on his shirt tightens.

“Yes,” she says. “In the eyes of my people, it is…”

“I get it,” Dean says. When she still seems conflicted, he presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Really, I understand,” he says.

His problem is that he stares into her eyes too long, and at her kiss-swollen lips. He dives back in for another taste.

This time, he’s a little less gentlemanly than he promised. His tongue sweeps along her lower lip, begging entrance. She makes a sound of surprise, but she opens up to him. Her gentle hands slide up his chest to hold his face, and her thumbs stroke his cheeks. He holds one of her wrists to keep her there as his tongue dances with hers. She tastes like the river, and like salty tears.

Had she cried for him? How long did she sit with his body, waiting to see if he would wake up?

Despite those worrying thoughts, Dean knows this feels right. More right than he’s ever felt.

It’s harder than he might’ve imagined, but he still pulls away, before he won’t be able to stop himself. Mila pants for breath. She seems to feel she should let him go, but also doesn’t show any sign of wanting to. Smiling, Dean caresses her cheek one more time before he turns to the fish she roasted.

“This looks good,” he says, clearing his throat. “What kinda fish is this?”

With a sigh, she attempts to steady herself and moves to join him by the fire.

That night, Mila dreams.

She dreams of wings, white and beautiful. She hears the cry of an eagle before she sees his great wingspan take off in flight. He soon finds his mate, and they dance together in the sky.

When she wakes, the fire has gone out and it’s still dark in the night. It takes her a moment to realize that she’s safe. Finally safe.

And she’s lying securely in Dean’s arms.

She’s no longer conflicted when she stares up at his face.

She will bring him home to her tribe, and she will explain. If they still don’t welcome him, then she prays for the strength to keep to her honor. Because now, she begins to realize…

Her heart has already chosen.

“Kimmímila, what have you done?” her uncle asks in the language of their people.

He is Tahatan, Chief of their tribe.

Mila’s father, Chatan, and her cousin Šóta have tied Dean Winchester to a post in the center of the Chief’s large tipi. Dean kneels with his head bowed in respect, even though he keeps sneaking looks at Mila to try and gauge what’s happening. He doesn’t understand a word of any of it.

“You’ve brought this outsider into our village, this White Man!” Tahatan shouts, his voice deep and resounding.

Mila steps forward, despite her mother’s embarrassment and her father trying to grab her shoulder. For the second time in her life, she defies her father for what she believes is right. The first was to rescue a member of their tribe—because even a horse’s spirit should not be broken by greed.

“Uncle, I’ve told you the story, though you don’t want to believe it,” she says. “Dean Winchester saved me when he could have killed me, or worse. He defied his own people. He is dead to his own people, for me, and because of me. You may think they lack all honor, but this man is different.”

She looks over at Dean, and he meets her gaze. He wears an anxious frown as he looks between her and the chief, but she has a feeling that his fear is for her, not for himself.

She kneels beside him, then looks up at her uncle with all the stubbornness she’s ever possessed in her life. She feels it’s led her to exactly this moment.

“And we are one,” she says. Nerves trill up her spine as she says it. She predicts the way shock falls over the room. The way her father curses out loud, angry. The way her mother covers her mouth in dismay. The way the Chief takes a step back, tilting his head at his niece.

“You would take it that far?” he asks.

Her face doesn’t change. “It’s already done.”

Tahatan is beside himself, both angry and perplexed. He goes back to his chair of wicker and wood that lies centered in the room. He drops heavily into it. After a long while, in which he thinks in silence…he releases a heavy sigh. He gestures for his brother and his son to untie Dean. The men do so, but they don’t let him go free. They force him to stand and bring him forward to kneel again before the Chief.

“Dean Winchester,” Tahatan says.

“Yes, sir,” Dean replies.

“You prove yourself to be a man with honor,” he says in English. “Kimmímila has chosen you. She claims you have chosen her in return. Do you deny this?”

Dean glances over at her. She bites the inside of her lip, a bit worried about how he’ll react. She’s not sure he completely understands what Tahatan is telling him, but he nods, regardless.

“No, sir. I don’t deny it,” Dean says.

“Then, you will be allowed to stay, and live among us,” Tahatan declares. "We will see for ourselves what you are. We will see if you are worthy."

Dean gives a nod, crossed with a bow of some kind. He obviously isn’t sure of what he’s supposed to do, but he does say thank you. Mila wraps her hands around his uninjured arm and helps him to his feet. She smiles at him to let him know that the worst is over. He blows out a breath in relief.

“Is that it?” he whispers. He expected more of a thrashing, if he’s honest.

“Almost,” she replies. The two of them stop short before her father, Chatan.

Dean straightens up and holds out his hand. “Sir.”

Chatan glances down at the white hand extended toward him. His gaze raises back up to Dean.

He grunts in acknowledgement, but he turns on his heels and storms out of the tipi. Her mother comes forward next. She examines Dean from all angles. She takes his face in her hand, somewhat squishing his cheeks, so she can look deeply into his startled eyes.

She seems satisfied by what she finds, and she lets him go. Afterward, she takes Mila’s hand and heaves a deep sigh.

She kisses her daughter’s hand and says nothing else, leaving them to find her husband and calm him down.

Dean turns to Mila with a look that says, please tell me that’s it.

She smiles more genuinely.

“Come,” she says.

She leads him by the hand out of the Chief’s tipi and through the village. Dean takes in the rows of other tall, cone-like structures covered in buffalo skin, as well as all the faces that turn to stare at him in a mix of curiosity, wariness, and even fear. Some of them whisper to each other, taking their children by the hand and keeping them close.

Dean’s still on guard himself, even when Mila takes him to a smaller tipi. It’s been closed up for a while now, by the look of it. Weeds have grown right outside the entrance.

“This one’s yours?” Dean asks.

She pauses, giving him another small smile. “Ours.”

Dean raises a brow. Ours. Really?

She opens the flap in the front and beckons him inside. There’s still enough daylight to shine through the outer lining. Inside, his gaze flits over the old pile of stones in the center for heating, clothes folded in the corner, some cooking pots and utensils, paintings on wood and clay, and a couple of beaded decorations. Buffalo skin bedding is laid out on the other side with a couple of soft looking furs.

Son of a gun. Dean doesn’t even blink as he processes it all. He’s in a damn tipi. This is really about to become his life.

Shaking his head a little, he forces himself to focus on Mila. She’s his anchor, and she seems to sense that he’s reeling. She guides him to sit beside her on the bedding, holding his hands in hers. After a moment, he reaches up to tuck a curling strand of hair behind her ear.

“You didn’t get in too much trouble because of me, did you?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “No. My father and uncle are very similar. Strong to anger, but it is quick to run out. At least with me.”

Dean thinks he understands. Short fuse, quick fizzle.

“There is just…one thing,” Mila says. Her eyes fall away from his, like she’s embarrassed. He squeezes her hands.

“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing. It gets her to look at him again, but she seems worried to tell him.

“To convince my uncle to let you stay, I told them that we…” she trails, trying to find the right words in English. “That we are married.”

Dean’s brows raise high. His heart trips up faster. Okay, “ours” makes a lot more sense now.

“I am sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t want you hurt—”

“Sweetheart,” Dean says, cupping her cheek. Even with the hammering of his heart, he grins. “I’m pretty sure that’s where this was going anyway.”

In fact, this is a best-case scenario, as far as he’s concerned. He leans in to kiss her, and it doesn’t take long at all for her to sigh in relief, melting against him.

“We’re married, huh?” he asks. “No ceremony? No white dress?”

“We are bonded,” she replies, nodding as she meets every one of his kisses. “Or, we will be.”

She tugs him closer and revels in the feeling of his hands beginning to roam her body, sliding down her waist, her hips and thighs.

“Guess that means we have to seal the deal,” he grins. His lips drift away from hers to burn a familiar path across her cheek. He takes to nibbling her ear, making her flinch and laugh as it tickles.

“Seal-the-deal. What does that mean?” she asks.

Dean chuckles lowly in her ear. “Oh, I think you know.”

He guides her onto her back, over the comfortable mess of furs. He wants to take his time exploring every inch of soft, tan skin, but he first sweeps her hair away from her eyes, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She smiles up at him softly.

“Do you regret?” she whispers, reaching up to touch his chin with two slender fingers. “Do you regret helping me?”

Dean considers her question. He knows he’ll carry his family in his heart until the day he dies. His brother, his mother, the memory of his father. Benny and Cas, even Jack, and so many others.

It’s already a heavy burden, but he had always been prepared to lose his life on the battlefield, in service of his country. At least this way, he gains a new life.

“No. Never did,” Dean replies. “Not even once.”

He bows his head toward hers, and he proves it to her. His lips capture hers, fueled by passion and wanting. Mila’s hands slide over his shoulders and down his back. Maybe without her realizing it, she implores him to let go of the weight heaped on his shoulders.

When he begins to bunch up the hem of her dress, she sits up to help guide his hands. Her quickening breaths mesh with his as the first layer of clothing drops beside the bedding. His tattered shirt joins her dress, along with pants and shoes and boots, until all that’s left is skin against warm, bare skin. He lays on his side right beside her and explores wherever she lets him begin.

“Beautiful,” Dean murmurs, as his lips follow the column of her neck, down between her breasts. Her breaths rise to meet him, especially when he begins to toy with a dark, pebbled nipple. Her fingers slip through his hair, and his name falls from her lips. He palms one breast while kissing and gently teasing the other, exploring sensitive flesh and grazing her sensitive fleshwith his teeth.

“No man’s ever touched you?” he asks, despite knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, her fingers gripping his hair tighter as his lips and tongue move against her skin.

“No,” Mila gasps a reply. Her hand slides down the back of his neck, and the more he teases her, her nails soon create faint red lines down his back, her thighs squeezing together. She feels a throbbing ache at the very center of her. Despite her inexperience with men, she knows what it means, and she knows what she wants.

Dean’s mouth drags away from her breast. He pulls back so he can meet her eyes. A smile curves his lips, and he takes one of her hands from his shoulders.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he asks. He guides her hand down her body, brushing over a wet, sensitive nipple, down her stomach, and between her legs. This time, Mila nods in answer. She stares up at Dean with eyes like molten honey. He leans in to kiss her neck.

“Show me,” he says.

She shudders at the depths in his voice. It increases the flood of wetness she already feels, even before she slips two fingers between the folds of her sex. She gathers some of that slick and circles it over the source of her pleasure, the small nub above her entrance.

Dean takes his hardened length in his hand. While she writhes by her own hand, he drinks her in with his eyes. A soft groan falls from his lips as he pumps himself a few times, sliding a thumb across the weeping head of his cock.

He can’t be a spectator for long though. He nips tantalizingly at her neck, creating a zing of added sensation across her skin. She whimpers, though she tries to stifle it, her knee bending further.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dean says. “Let me hear you.”

He releases himself and replaces her hand with his own. He slips two long fingers inside her drenched entrance, earning a gasping moan from her. She latches onto his shoulders and buries her face into his neck. She whispers fervent things he doesn’t understand, but it only spurs him on.

His thumb circles insistently over her clit as his fingers pulse inside her. Her hips buck a needy rhythm against his hand, until her thighs begin to shake, and her inner walls squeeze even tighter around his fingers.

“Shit, that’s it, baby,” he pants gruffly against her cheek. “Let go for me.”

Warmth snaps and floods from her throbbing core, and she cries out near his ear, her nails biting into his skin. Her release coats his fingers.

Mila drops her head back against the furs underneath her. Her chest rises and falls quickly while she tries to catch her breath, her eyes tightly shut. Dean surprises her with a soft kiss.

“Mila,” he prods. He wants to see her eyes again, so pretty and wanton when she comes. He veers away from her lips to kiss her cheek, and then the other side of her neck. “Let me see you, sweetheart.”

She huffs a small laugh. Opening her eyes, she gestures to her bare body. “This is not enough?”

Dean’s lips tug at a smile. He shakes his head. “As a matter of fact, no.”

He shifts over her, finding his place between the cradle of her thighs. His elbows come to rest on either side of her head. She feels trapped by his body, even as she welcomes his weight and the feeling of his arousal, long and heavy and hard, trapped between their bodies. This man fills every corner of her world in this moment.

“If I’m your husband now, that means I get all of you,” he says with a grin. She gazes up at him, both in blushing amusement and affection.

“All of me,” Mila repeats. She takes his face in her hands and brings him closer, until her lips are a whisper from his. “Then I want all of you.”

Dean chuckles. “You sure about that?”

She smiles in satisfaction, and her lips claim him this time. One kiss turns into many, each one mounting in passion and desire. Dean groans into her when she begins to touch him. Her hands are soft, but direct in their seeking; they caress his shoulders, run down his chest and stomach, and then, more tentatively explore the now painfully hard length of him pressing against her.

He makes a grateful sound of pleasure when her hand wraps around his cock, squeezing gently. His fingers bury themselves in her hair.

“I want all of you,” she says, this time a plea and a demand all at once as she strokes him.

Dean nods in agreement. He’s come this far. He can do that for her too.

He spreads her thighs a bit wider and encourages her to adjust the angle of her hips for him. His hand glides down her plush thigh and gets a healthy grip. Then he slides his hand under hers and guides his cock through her folds, first just holding himself at her warm, wet entrance.

He manages to wait for a second, in order to meet her gaze. She’s already holding onto his arms tightly, like he’s become her anchor. Her thighs wrap around his hips and beckon him closer.

Slowly, he pushes inside. He takes care in how he works her open. She winces at the sting of his girth stretching her, but his fingers once again massage her clit, stroking her arousal back into a keening flame. He swallows her gasps and moans as he bottoms out inside her, fully sheathed. Tears prick at her eyes, but not from pain.

Mila’s dream flashes like a waking vision behind her eyes. Wings take flight, along with the gleam of a golden beak and a sharp eye.

She blinks, and the image disappears. She’s left with the man who has become hers, making love to her with every stroke of him deep inside her. She presses grateful kisses across his neck and shoulder, wherever she can reach while she clings to his strong arms.

The thick head of him brushes a sensitive place over and over, one that tightens the coil in her lower belly and makes her core tremble again with warmth, until her body convulses against him, pulsing in pleasure, gripping him tight from the inside. Mila’s fingers clench in his hair just as tightly as her release hits her in a powerful wave; even her voice becomes lost to it.

Gritting his teeth, Dean grips the soft flesh of her hip and chases his own end. The way her inner walls choke his cock, he has no choice but to come hot inside her, his spend mixing with her own release. A strangled shout tears from his throat.

He has to brace himself before he crushes her. With his forearms resting on either side of her head, he lowers his forehead against hers. Her legs slip from where they’ve been tightly molded to his hips, her feet meeting the floor. Eventually he slips out of her. He watches his seed drip out and create a mess on the dark furs. The sight of it satisfies something primal deep inside him.

Later he’ll ask her about washing up (and about supper), but for now, he just turns onto his back beside her. She inches toward him, and he raises an arm so she can splay out against his side. They both lay there for a moment in the quiet, just catching their breath together. It marks the end of a long journey, and yet, the start of one too.

Mila turns to raise onto her elbow. She reaches over to wipe the sweat from his brow in a tender touch. Dean smiles up at her. He takes her hand and presses a kiss into her palm.

“I could get used to this,” he says.

Her eyes widen in surprise, but then she laughs softly. “Yes.”

Her hand moves down to his chest, over his heart. She sobers as she considers her people, and how much trust has yet to be bridged—not only her own father and uncle, but the entire tribe. When she led him through the village, they called him wašíču.

Fat-taker. Greedy White. Not one of us.

“It will be hard for you here,” Mila says. She worries it will be too hard for Dean.

He just squeezes her hand, earning her attention through tumultuous thoughts.

“I’m not afraid of a little hard work,” Dean replies. His usual confident charm is infused in his smile, but she has a feeling he’s just trying to reassure her.

Sensing she’s not convinced, Dean reaches up to hold her cheek, guiding her to look at him and not the floor.

“Listen. I made my choice, and I’m sticking it out, come hell or high water,” he says.

Mila’s brows knit together. “Hell-or-high… What does that mean?”

Dean sits up on his elbow along with her. He takes her chin between his fingers and meets her gaze.

“It means if you want me, you’ve got me. The rest, we’ll figure out as we go along,” he says.

A smile slowly lightens Mila’s face. She tilts her chin up to meet him with a kiss.

“I will be with you,” she says. It’s a promise.

Dean smiles back.

“Good,” he says. “Because that’s just about all I need.”

AN: There we have it, friends. 💜 I really, truly hope you enjoyed this mini series! To be honest, I have more ideas for this little world (like how Dean might try to assimilate into this culture), but I'll leave it to you guys to let me know if that's something you'd be interested in reading.

Until then, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter!

Pronunciation Guide:

Šóta ("sho-tah") Chatan ("chat-tan") Tahatan ("ta-hat-tann") Wašíču ("wash-ee-jew")

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daeneryseastar · 10 months ago

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i think the biggest problem i have with the whole team discourse in f&b + hotd is that it isn’t just about which characters you like more/who you want to sit on the throne at that end; it’s that each side is fighting for completely different ideologies, regardless of one members personal beliefs. grrm could not have made it anymore clear.

team black isn’t just fighting for rhaenyra to be queen, they’re fighting for the monarch’s right to choose an heir, for the oaths they swore years before, for the complete opposite of precedent/tradition: the king’s word is law. team green isn’t just fighting for aegon to be king, they’re fighting for tradition, that no matter the words of a king being law sons will always come before daughters, that oaths are fickle and don’t matter. each side is in some way fighting back against what’s already been established for the kingdom, but the end goal is completely different.

we’re not given as much insight into why most of the houses initially sided with rhaenyra, but we do have an inkling into how the green council felt and acted, however. jaehaerys choosing baelon over rhaenys (against andal tradition, the king can choose his heir) is one point. the great council of 101 is another. alicent, despite being the leader of the council, is removed from the equation and shoved off to the side when it comes to swearing oaths of loyalty between the members on account of her womanhood. daemon being a second coming of ‘maegor’ (despite what we know would be a better suited title for aemond, but i digress) is also used. when discussing who would side with them the vale is automatically disqualified from the list, due to them presently being ruled by a woman, jeyne arryn. she doesn’t choose to fight for rhaenyra for the sole reason of them being kin, but because her own right to rule can and will be put into question if aegon steps over rhaenyra. because she is a woman. she does so in spite of her dislike for daemon (and his supposed maegor-ness) too.

even if one were to look at each characters personal feelings about the succession the fact of the matter is that rhaenyra is usurped because she is a woman. it’s stated almost blatantly multiple times before and during the war. the greens use scapegoats and smokescreens in attempts justify it (her ‘bastards’ chief among them, but legally her sons live and die as the trueborn children between her and laenor, with the reminder that septon eustace refutes this claim to begin with). even when she is killed grrm has her breast pricked to arouse a dragon that doesn’t want to kill her (and why is that?). aegon ‘wins’ against her and is king, but then why is jaehaera, as his last living remaining child not named his heir? why is aegon iii put ahead of her, despite being the enemies son? these are rhetorical questions. aegon had no plans to ever consider her his heir, he made it clear with how excited he was to marry cassandra baratheon and produce more ‘strong’ sons. his dragon (who had fought and bled for him the entire war) wasn’t mourned properly, he couldn’t wait to hatch a ‘new dragon, prouder and fiercer than the last.’ yet he wasn’t even capable of doing that in the six months before he too was killed.

it’s also safe to mention that grrm created an entire separate lore story, one that would seem to have no bearing on the original story unless you’re capable of understanding symbolism. the amethyst empress is usurped by her younger brother the bloodstone emperor, and the first long night ensues from this decision. rhaenyra (amethyst = arryn blue + targaryen red) is usurped by her younger brother aegon ii (bloodstone = hightower green + targaryen red) and the dying of the dragons, the very creatures needed to stop the next long night, are eradicated, along with the magic needed to hatch them and keep them alive (until). the war is the blacks (power, death, grief, rebellion, restraint) versus the greens (ambition, greed, jealousy, anger, wealth). the amethyst empress is important to the main story in the same way that rhaenyra is important, that snubbing the women (an integral aspect to the power the targaryens held) of house targaryen can lead only to disaster. daenerys is the key, the one to break the cycle and fix the wrongdoings caused by her ancestors obsession with power. mother of dragons, mhysa, breaker of chains, slayer of lies, daughter of death, the dragon queen, azor ahai come again, the prince that was promised will bring the dawn.

you can argue for technicalities sake all day, but there is a meaning to this story beyond the scope of rightful heirs. and it shouldn’t be shoved off to the side just so you can praise your favorites and hate those who go against them. it makes for a poor consuming of the actual story. fire and blood was created as a history book to expand on daenerys as a character. her family, what and where she’s come from, and how she relates to them. she’s the antithesis to every targaryen that’s come before her, a hero in her own right. the only targaryen’s we can say are radically important to dany’s story are the conquerors (aegon the conqueror with teats) and rhaenyra (the amethyst empress). i don’t know, just some food for thought.

edit: i have revised some of my opinions on this through a further reread but the gist of it is still the same.

#asoiaf #fire and blood #hotd #rhaenyra targaryen #pro rhaenyra #daenerys targaryen #pro daenerys #team black #anti team green #anti aegon ii targaryen #the amethyst empress #the bloodstone emperor #the amethyst empress 🤝 rhaenyra 🤝 daenerys #i’m sick and incredibly tired so please excuse any typos in my ramblings lol

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laifromthecosmos · 1 month ago

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Bharani Nakshatra and Fertility: The Cycle of Life under the rule of Venus

port-br

When watching films or plays that take place in the Middle Ages, you notice that some of them have the figure of the “herald”, those messengers who arrive at the location and open the letter (which looks like a parchment) and read the message aloud. The Heralds carried announcements and messages from the kingdom to the population, made solemn proclamations, verified titles of nobility, announced war and proclaimed peace. They were a preform of diplomacy. When they were going to announce something to the people, they would stand on a platform in the middle of the public square and shout the real news, usually wearing clothes that differentiated them to attract more attention.

Bharani Nakshatra (Aries 13º20' - 26º40') are the heralds of the energy of Venus, as they act as messengers or representatives of the essence of Venus in the world, carrying Venusian qualities, manifesting them in their lives and behavior. Venus is advocacy, seeks equity and is a peacemaker, devoid of aggression, but when it joins Mars, aggression and anger can be used as a tool of diplomacy (description by mike sleeping dog). In the eyes of Vedic elders, the star of this nakshatra forms the female sexual organ and thus became its symbol. This organ symbolizes the fertility aspect of life and a portal between two different worlds. In the Vedic point of view, it is described as death and birth, transformation and regeneration. It also represents restriction, care, jealousy, sacrifice, sexuality, nurturing and maternal love. Bharani carries all these attributes. It is the star of restriction that has the power to cleanse and remove impurities.

The main deity of Bharani is Yama, the god of death. Yama had a twin sister named Yami, who is considered the lady of life. Yama and Yami are a divine pair of creative deities. Yama is what connects mortality and immortality that carves mortal paths through death. In it is time and through time it describes a course for life, after the course life is absorbed into time. Yami is moved by Maya's emotions and love. Yama is mortal, but Yami is not. The procreation of mortals was granted thanks to the sacrifice that Yama made in annihilating himself, thus creating a debt (cyclic yajña). Through debt, exchange is created, and it is through exchange that the world moves forward.

There is a story that Yami fell in love with her brother Yama and wanted to have sex with him, arguing that this would not break dharma. She wished Yama to induce the embryo in her womb. It was a natural instinct that awakened in her mind and body after she reached puberty.

"She offered many arguments as to why this would not break dharma, but he knew that sexual intercourse with his own sister would go against dharma in the mortal world, where every action provokes a seen or unseen reaction. His reward for such self-control was to become chief justice of the universe." - Mike Sleeping Dog.

Bharani is a 16-year-old girl about to deflower, a baby in the womb or a person who faces the Yamadutas (heavenly angels whose task is to guide souls in the afterlife process) after death. Because of its childlike quality, Bharani is one of the most eager nakshatras. Just like a child wants to experience the entire environment, Bharani natives want to experience the environment to the fullest. There is a primal innocence in the way they experience things, people and places. They may go by instinct instead of reason. Most of your feelings and desires are so overwhelming that very little can be done to contain or calm them. Once again, the evolutionary status of the soul in question comes into play. All Bharani natives have a creative impulse within them. Females generally express this creativity through bearing children, while males attempt to be creative on stranger levels. Bharani is a nakshatra where interaction between man and woman takes place. This makes it one of the most sexual nakshatras in the zodiac. Bharani is representative of the force of nature that creates attraction between opposites. Bharani natives experiment, surrender, become victims and try to understand this force.

Bharani is the nakshatra that belongs to the first sign of the zodiac and is the first nakshatra ruled by Venus, this symbolizes the entry of the initial energy of creative feminine energy into the zodiac. Therefore, it is a feminine nakshatra. This is no longer a surprise, as Bharani represents everything feminine. It is the second nakshatra and the first female nakshatra. Just like the number “2” in numerology, it is the initiator of the feminine principle at all levels of existence. It is the beginning of duality and maya, and in it lies the essence of the complex functioning of the feminine principle. Bharani is considered a balanced nakshatra. Bharani is actually an extreme nakshatra, but it is classified as 'Balanced' due to its tendency to balance opposite extremes like birth and death. Bharani natives often lead double lives, reaching two different extremes. So, overall, their lives can be seen as balance. It is part of the Rajas Nakshatras (rajas is action to get desires fulfilled. It is the passion that drives one to action, often not getting the expected results, which leads to more actions), this can be easily accessed from the govt. of Bharani by Venus. Venus is seen as the most rajasic among the planets. Its relationship with terrestrial life processes is very strong. In a way, you could say that it is only Venus that makes life worth living. As Bharani heralds Venusian energy, its expression here is primordial, highly concentrated and explosive (all rajasic expressions). Venus is the planet of fertility, creativity and pleasure. In Bharani, these qualities manifest in the idea of giving birth, both literally and symbolically. Fertility here is not restricted to procreation, but also the ability to create and nurture ideas, projects and new phases of life. Bharani, governed by Yama, also remembers that every beginning is accompanied by an end, a continuous cycle of renewal. Bharani represents the phase in which the seed is planted (the creative act that precedes growth. Being the first nakshatra of Venus, Bharani symbolizes fertility in its primordial state, the impulse to generate life. Fertility is linked to the feminine receptive nature, the ability to sustain life, something that Venus dominates. Bharani, with her association with the uterus, also speaks of the importance of gestation, essential elements of fertility. All goddesses, especially fertility goddesses, are linked to Venus.

Bharani is the nakshatra of karma and reincarnation, one of the least understood concepts in modern times, especially in the Western world. Bharani is the name of the stage where the masculine and feminine, which have arisen from a single genderless source, copulate and, in doing so, carry forward the process of creation.

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randxmthxughts · 2 years ago

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Chosen by Eywa - The Dream Hunt - Chapter 1

chapter 2 →

summary: eywa makes no mistakes... in the midst of his preparation to become the future olo'eyktan, neteyam is told to be with a chosen mate. guided by the signs of eywa, tsahik picks y/n, a woman orphaned by the war, whose heart already belongs to another

contains: arranged marriage, mentions of war and grief, angst, one-sided enemies to lovers

wc: 4.6k

a/n: i just wanted to say a major THANK YOU for 4k and for the support you have shown for this series before i even posted anything 😭 i hope this meets your expectations, and i am very excited for the next chapters

chosen by eywa masterlist | general avatar masterlist

Eywa makes no mistakes. Y/N had clung to these words her whole life, since the day her parents were taken by the merciless war against the sky people. She found comfort in knowing that her journey was already prewritten, destined for a greater purpose. But she had never expected for Eywa to turn her world upside down, forcing her to question everything she believed in, and lead her to a love that she never imagined possible…

The scent of smoldering herbs filled the air, mingling with the soft groans and hushed whispers of the healers attending to the small party of warriors. Y/N's deft hands worked quickly, spreading the last thick layer of healing poultice over the gash on his arm. He winced at the searing pain, then let out a weak chuckle at his own reaction.

"Mawey," she murmured to the injured warrior, her voice sweet with warmth that she failed to conceal, “We are done.” Their eyes met briefly, and a blush crept up Y/N's cheeks.

She turned away, to hide a small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips, and stepped closer to Kiri to search for another remedy in their shared basket. Neteyam, sitting beneath his sister's tender ministrations, winced slightly. His eyes then spotted Y/N, who was rifling through the herbs and ointments, though her thoughts seemed to drift somewhere else.

“What are you looking for?” Kiri asked, poking her head out from behind her brother.

“Oh,” Y/N turned, flashing the siblings a sheepish smile, “Was just making sure that we had enough eanean.”

Kiri nodded, though she was hardly convinced. Having worked with Y/N side by side for years now, she had grown to read her subtle moods. Over the past few months especially, with the increased work, the two women had become closer, and Kiri had suspected that there was something going on between Y/N and Kaye, the warrior she was just tending to. But she ultimately decided not to intervene.

“I still don’t understand how you even crossed paths with those skxawngs at the Eastern border,” Kiri returned to the conversation she was having with her brother.

"They were lying in wait," Neteyam answered, his gaze still fixated on Y/N, "I don't know how they figured out we'd be there today, but they attacked us from above."

"That's very bad," Kiri sighed, applying fresh bandages to his back, “What if there were more of them?”

She circled to stand in front of her brother, while her eyes darted around the spacious tent. The healing tent had been expanded due to Mo’at’s request, who had decided that the old one was too cramped. Mo’at also took on more students because of the attacks from the sky people, and the clan now boasted a larger number of healers than ever before.

"We probably wouldn't have made it out alive," Neteyam sighed, disappointed.

The future Olo’yektan saw no point in hiding the intensity of the day’s event; he had barely escaped his own death earlier. He was assigned to lead the party, and the weight of bringing his warriors to safety was heavy on his shoulders. How could he ensure they would never end up in the same situation again? Getting trapped by the sky people, almost facing death. He couldn’t help but feel insecure in his own ability as the future chief, maybe he wasn’t ready to pass his Dream Hunt yet.

Kiri's shoulders slumped in response, though the answer wasn't difficult to guess. She stole a quick glance at Y/N, who seemed to be frozen in place, listening to the conversation. If anything happened to Kaye, if she lost another person she loved to the war, would she be able to bear it?

The familiar touch of Kaye's hand on her back broke Y/N out of her thoughts. As he passed by, uttering a grateful "thank you," she blushed deeply, but the worry in her eyes was not lost on Neteyam.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Y/N dipped her feet into the cold water, feeling the soreness starting to slip away from her body. The river was serene, calming her, as she had been on her feet all day, working under the watchful eyes of Mo’at and tending to the injured warriors. Kaye, who sat next to her, nudged her thigh with his. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers, his canines peeking out with a small smirk.

“You know I don’t like it when you are upset with me,” he said, nudging her again playfully, “Y/N.”

Her ears twitched, as she turned to look at him with a hint of annoyance at how unserious he was being. He had accidentally blabbered about his stupid idea to take on two geared up sky people at once and almost lost his arm during the encounter.

“The Great Mother may have looked after you today, but it won’t always be so,” she said firmly, “I lost my parents to a slip-up like this. Eywa does not intervene in these matters.”

“I know,” Kaye cupped her cheek tenderly, recognizing the reminiscing in her eyes, “I will be more careful.”

She leaned into his touch, eyes closing for a moment with a small sigh. Her mind wandered back to the memories of her parents. It was a pain that never fully went away, a constant ache that still kept her up at nights.

“I worry about you, Kaye,” she murmured.

“And I worry about you,” he replied softly, his thumb rubbing circles on her cheekbone, “Which is why I think it is time to tell my family about us.”

Y/N blinked at him, feeling the familiar spark of hope ignite within her, but she quickly pushed it aside. She had heard these words from Kaye before, a promise that he had broken time and time again. His family held importance in the clan, his parents were strict, determined to arrange a mate for Kaye, just like they did for the rest of their children. And she was never worthy of their attention. She had nothing to offer to them. Kaye knew that too well, but he continued to give both of them false hopes of a bright future together.

“You don’t have to, it is no rush,” she mumbled, wondering if her devotion to him would ever be matched, “I don’t want you to fight with your parents.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Like in the womb of Pandora, surrounded by the elders and the Tsahik, Neteyam proudly wore the white paint on his body as he silently took a seat in the middle of the circle. His mother lingered behind with a mixture of worry and pride on her face; she had looked forward to the day her firstborn passed the Dream Hunt, but the earlier encounter with the sky people had shaken her slightly. What if Neteyam was too tired and wouldn’t survive his uniltaron? Jake threw an assurring arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his chest, and she gratefully complied, peeking at her son with a smile. Jake was grinning, confident that Neteyam, who had already accomplished so much at his age, would pass his trial with ease. He had prepared for it for months, what’s one more rite?

The chanting began to pick up with the beginning of the ritual, and knowing his role too well, Neteyam opened his mouth willingly when Mo'at approached him with a glowing worm hanging from her fingers. The worm wiggled around as Neteyam closed his lips around it and chewed it down. The smoke from burning herbs filled his nose and eyes, burning all the way to his lungs.

The chant grew louder and more hypnotic, and the taste of the worm on his tongue numbed his buds like a torch. Neteyam felt his body vibrate involuntarily, and as his father placed an arachnoid on his neck, he felt it stung him twice mercilessly. Neteyam squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the noise and the pain, as his mind began to slip into a trance. He could feel his lungs give out with a sharp pain and as he desperately gasped for air, it seemed like he was falling, spiraling down with nothing to grab onto. His heartbeat suddenly was louder, faster in his ears, thumping in a rhythm as he plummeted it down. The world went dark, and when he opened his eyes, Neteyam saw himself in the forest, surrounded by mist.

His body went limp for a moment, bright sunlight blinding his vision. He gathered his energy and barely moved to his feet, when with a sudden gust of wind, a banshee flew right above him, so close to the ground that it almost threw him off. Instinctively, Neteyam reached to cover his eyes with his hand, and then he was no longer himself.

His body ached, as it began to stretch out. His hands were growing, transforming into wings, as venom flowed through his blood, he was suddenly floating above the forest. It was like he was on the back of his ikran but the feeling was more intense. Unmistakably, his mind was no longer his own, Neteyam saw and felt through the banshee.

A rush of adrenaline burst through him, and Neteyam, for the first time in his life, was free, as he soared through the sky. He couldn’t express it, but he could feel it somewhere in his heart that this is what he was meant to be. One with Eywa.

As he flew over the trees, he spotted and neared closer to himself. His own Na’vi body stood small and fragile from the new point of view. But there was also somebody else standing next to him. A woman holding his hand. She was laughing, her voice vibrantly filled his ears with a pleasant sound. A long necklace wrapped around her neck and hung all the way down to her stomach, adorned with big beads, glistening under the sun, and blue feathers. Her hair was let down in soft waves, and her face�� When Neteyam tried tracing her features, he realized he couldn’t. The image began to slip away from him, and he felt his body betray him once again…

Suddenly, his eyes flew open, the darkness of the cave enveloping him. His trembling body was arched, palms digging into the soil beneath him, sweat rolling down his face in big drops. Neteyam took a moment to regain his breath, heart pounding.

“It is finished,” Mo’at’s voice broke the silence, words echoing through the cave.

Neteyam winced slightly at the loudness and rubbed his eyes to regain his vision. He could feel the eyes of elderly on him, then the relief in his mother’s voice, as she rushed to his side. Her hands reached for his face, massaging his temples.

“Did you see your spirit animal?” Neytiri asked with a smile, her eyes brimming with curiosity.

Neteyam nodded weakly, a small smile of his own stretching across his lips.

“I saw an ikran… I was the ikran!” he exclaimed, his laughter filling the cave.

Jake and Neytiri joined in his giddy laughter, the rest of the circle smiling in approval. Neytiri pulled her son into a tight embrace.

“We are very proud of you, son,” Jake said, crouching down next to them and patting Neteyam’s head, knowing exactly what he went through.

“Thank you,” Neteyam smiled, then as if he remembered another vision from his Dream Hunt, continued, “But I saw something else too!”

Mo’at approached him hastily, making a room for herself, as she splayed her fingers against Neteyam’s face. She peered into his amber eyes with curiosity, urging him to continue.

“I saw a woman,” he smiled, the memory returning to him, “She was holding my hand… well, the hand of my Na’vi body.”

Neytiri gasped softly, her eyes widening with shock. Mo’at’s expression remained stoic, though she gripped Neteyam’s shoulder.

“Did you recognize her, child?” she questioned, concealing her surprise.

“No, I couldn’t see her face,” Neteyam shook his head with a slight disappointment, “She was a Na’vi woman. But I couldn’t see her clearly.” He looked to his father, seeking answers, but found only confusion there.

Neytiri and Mo’at shared a knowing glance before rising to their feet. Neytiri brought her hands to her chest, anxiety etched onto her features. Jake registered it immediately, now alerted too by their reactions.

“Is something wrong?” he whispered to her.

She looked back at him, confusion marring her expression. She wasn’t really sure what it meant, only knew that Eywa very rarely sent a vision during the uniltaron. Mo’at circled around Neteyam, the air thick with tension. He waited patiently, his eyes trained on his grandmother, though he was already a little worried by how long she waited to speak. She took a step back and motioned for him to stand up. He complied, his body still weak.

“The Great Mother had blessed you with another vision, a peek into your destiny,” Mo’at’s tone was serious.

Jake’s ears perked up, unsure if it should excite him or scare him. He looked around the cave, seeking for a similar reaction, but everyone except him and Neteyam seemed to have an idea of what it meant.

“What does it mean, grandmother?” Neteyam asked carefully.

“It is time, Neteyam,” Mo’at spoke with a glimmer of pride in her eyes, “The Great Mother thinks you are ready to take a mate. Your journey begins now.”

Neytiri wrapped her arms around her son once more with a bittersweet smile. She seemed relieved by the explanation. Neteyam, like the perfect son, had passed every rite on his own. Now it was time for him to face the rest of his challenges with a woman by his side, someone he would love and cherish. He wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. Jake watched with the same confused expression on his face, ever so often glancing at Neytiri to try and understand how he should react.

“If you have already chosen a mate in secret from the clan, you must reveal it now, child,” Mo’at spoke again.

“No, grandmother, I have not chosen,” Neteyam shook his head firmly, “I am not mated with anyone.”

“Very well,” Mo’at heaved a sigh, then tilted her head slightly, “Do you have anyone in mind for the role?”

“No,” he shook his head again, this time slightly embarrassed by his own answer. It was the only thing he lacked so far, “I didn’t have time for that.”

The words brought a pang of guilt to his parents. They both lowered their ears immediately, feeling fully responsible for raising their son with such a weighty burden on his shoulders.

“Good. Then the search begins,” Mo’at announced, “You will hear the answer soon.”

Neteyam felt his heart sink. His mouth hung open, as he looked around the cave for support but the elderly only seemed content with the decision and began to disperse. He would hear the answer? Were they going to decide for him? Of course, arranging bonds was quite common and successful in his clan, especially within the line of Olo’eyktans. Their mates were chosen carefully, keeping in mind that the couples had to be strong enough to lead their people through thick and thin. But he was content with his life as of now, exploring the forests and working on his skills. Neteyam didn’t feel ready, despite his vision. He glanced at his father, who was now frowning and clearly holding himself back from speaking, biding his time until they were left alone to discuss the matter further.

“Neteyam, you should go to the celebration, your brother and sisters have been waiting for you this whole time," Neytiri spoke softly.

"But mother -" Neteyam tried to protest.

"No buts, boy," his father interjected, “You did well. Go celebrate."

“Fine,” Neteyam nodded, his voice falling to a whisper.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

It has been a few days since Neteyam passed his Dream Hunt, but he was already impatient for his grandmother’s decision. It could take her months to make it, yet he couldn’t help the anxiousness. Was he too late to choose a mate for himself? What made it worse was the conversations he overheard between his parents. He tiptoed around the corner of his family tent, his mind already racing with conflicting thoughts. He had gathered every argument and piled it into a high tower, ready to unravel it onto his parents, but as their voices grew louder, he couldn't help but eavesdrop.

"I can’t believe you’re going along with this, Neytiri," Jake's voice echoed, his tone growing more exasperated by the second. "He should have a choice in who he wants to spend his life with."

"He didn’t make a choice in time," Neytiri replied, her voice firm, "But the Great Mother has. A mate has already been chosen by Eywa.”

“And what if he doesn’t like this arrangement? You were in his place once,” Jake was upset. He had never expected Neytiri to agree with Mo’at’s decision.

“Ma’Jake,” Neytiri sighed, “Eywa makes no mistakes. Neteyam received a clear sign, it would be foolish to ignore it.”

Neteyam's heart skipped a beat at her words. His mother seemed determined that it was the right step to take, and deep down, he thought he agreed with her. He had to trust in the wisdom of Eywa. Yet, Neteyam was scared because of his own helplessness.

“I don’t know…” Jake trailed off.

It wasn't fair play, arguing with Tsahik’s decision, with Eywa’s signs. Jake may have lived on Pandora for over 20 years, having been reborn as a Na’vi, but he still felt like an outsider when it came to the traditions of the clan. He wasn’t going to enforce his opinions with his position as Toruk Makto and go against everyone. But he also didn’t want to see his son suffer.

Neteyam sighed before stepping into the tent and revealing himself. Both of his parents stiffened, having suspected that he overheard their conversation. He felt caught between two and he had no other choice but to put a stop to it.

“‘Itan,” Neytiri’s expression softened, sensing the uncertainty in his eyes. She walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know that you might feel confused but I believe that accepting Eywa’s sign will lead you to being a strong leader someday. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices, but ultimately the Great Mother looks after us. Our fate is already written.”

“Whatever your grandmother decides, you don’t have to go along with it, if you don’t want to, Neteyam,” Jake added with a strained voice, “Trust your heart.”

Neytiri nodded with a small sigh. She too was conflicted, torn between her trust and her love for her son. The vision during the Dream Hunt was a rare blessing, and Neytiri didn't want Neteyam to miss out on it.

“You have been destined for greatness, ‘itan,” her expression softened, “We will be with you every step of your journey.”

“Thank you,” Neteyam looked between his parents, “But I decided to accept the sign. And I want to make you proud,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jake and Neytiri exchanged a glance. Neteyam could feel the weight of his clan's expectations heavy on his shoulders, like he couldn’t refuse, no matter how much his parents expressed they would support him. Now, as he looked at their worried faces, he knew he had to put his own desires aside for the sake of his people.

“Grandmother sent me over to get you. She has her answer,” Kiri’s voice trembled slightly as she delivered the news, interrupting their moment.

Her ears were flat against her skull, face etched with worry for the burden placed upon her brother. She could only hope that he would be happy and at peace with whatever will be decided.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

One man's joy is another man's sorrow.

Becoming the future Olo’eyktan’s mate, getting accepted into his family, being his family, filling the hole left by the death of her parents. To be granted the ultimate praise and be chosen by Tsahik, be approved, be enough. After losing everything, it all seemed too good to be true to Y/N.

Her heart sunk deep in her chest, voice hitching in her throat before words of protest could even escape. How could she agree to being with Neteyam? Sure, he was handsome, skillful, he was respected and would be sweet to her. But he wasn’t Kaye, wasn’t the one she wanted. Not the one who promised to be hers. No. It was going to be Neteyam, the future Olo’eyktan. The guy who had grown up with the eyes of the whole clan on him. Who was performing all the time, concealed his true feelings. Someone whom she didn’t know well, whom she never saw that way.

“Y/N, do you accept?” Mo’at asked, her voice louder this time.

Y/N’s thoughts raced faster at the gravity of the question. Mating with Neteyam would fulfill her duty to her people, a duty to carry on the traditions, an opportunity to belong, to be part of something bigger, greater. To finally feel useful, be able to give back to her clan. She glanced at Tsahik and could see the disapproval etched on the older woman’s features.

Any girl would kill to be in her position. It felt like a slap to even consider rejecting Neteyam, Mo’at was convinced that her grandson was going to be everything and more. She had seen him in her visions since even before he was born. He had a strong heart, was destined to be a leader, guide his clan to a better future, make a happy one for himself too.

The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, each breath Y/N took felt like a burden on her chest. Jake and Neytiri, who stood nearby, waited patiently, hoping for the answer they wanted to hear but also expecting the one they feared. It was hard to tell apart which was which. Y/N stole another glance at Neteyam, whom she had greeted only a few minutes ago, just before his grandmother revealed her vision of Y/N being mated with him. He looked guilty, chewing on his bottom lip, muscles tense, as he desperately seeked for a reaction from her, anything. He felt the guilt eating away at him, he wasn’t blind, Neteyam had seen they way she was around Kaye. He just couldn’t understand why they had never announced it to the clan. Maybe things wouldn’t be so difficult now…

“I-I,” she stuttered, “I don’t know what to say, it is a great honor but…”

“But you deny?” Mo’at raised her eyebrows in disbelief, completely baffled with her answer.

“No - yes,” Y/N stammered, shaking her head, “I am only saying that there are many women in the clan who are worthy of becoming the mate of the future Olo’eyktan. Women better than me, who would know how to lead a clan.”

Mo’at pursed her lips together, clearly dissatisfied. Y/N wanted to scream, to run away, to hide from the responsibility that was thrust upon her so unexpectedly. Neteyam's eyes bore into hers, pleading silently for a chance. But she didn't know him, not really. How could she possibly agree to mate with someone her heart didn’t long for? Neytiri shifted uncomfortably, nudging Jake to do something, anything to ease the situation. He sighed, stepping forward to Y/N.

“I know it can be hard to let people take care of you, kid, but sometimes it is okay to let yourself just be,” he placed a hand over her shoulder, his features etched with sincerity, “Your parents were great people. I thought very highly of them, I truly mean it.”

“I know, Olo’eyktan, they respected you too,” Y/N nodded weakly.

Ever since their passing, Y/N could feel Jake’s protective gaze on her. He had been looking out for her for years now, making sure that people in the clan treated her well. It was him who had asked Mo’at to take Y/N as a student because he saw the potential in her to help others. But now, it was time for him to be taking all that back, and the realization made her heart clench painfully.

“I’ve never told you this but before your mother passed away, I was there with her,” he paused for a moment, “She asked me to take care of you, to make sure you had a place in the clan. And I know of no better way to fulfill that wish than this.”

As he spoke, Y/N's felt like shrinking under the weight of his arm still resting on her shoulder. She couldn’t tell him that her heart belonged to someone else, someone she could never have because she had nothing to offer. Nothing to give, nothing to make his family think she was worthy of him.

“The sign of Eywa was clear,” Neytiri chimed in, drawing attention back to her, “Neteyam had a vision during his Dream Hunt. He saw his mate.”

“But that’s… that never happens during Dream Hunts!” Y/N seemed baffled too.

She looked at Neteyam, hoping for a further explanation, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Shame and pressure showed on his face, as if the argument made by his mother put him into an even deeper pit of despair.

“It happens rarely,” Neytiri continued, then smiled softly, as if catching up on with her own thoughts, “Very rarely, Eywa sends these signs to exceptional Na’vi. It must be her way of saying that it is time to let somebody else help him on the rest of his journey.”

Useful. It was the precise word Y/N used, whenever she asked for Tsahik’s help during the lessons. When her eyes would go red from the amount of tears she shed when she felt unwanted. When she hid herself from the man she loved because his parents would never accept her. Y/N had always been a hard worker, eager to prove herself in the clan, but no matter how much she did, it never felt enough.

Neteyam watched her with fear and desperation. Now the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to make things work. The pressure of being the perfect son, the future leader, was a weight that he needed to share with someone strong.

Then they saw it. A single atokirina’, a sacred seed that had last appeared to Y/N on the day her parents were killed, floated around her, casting a soft glow over her features. For a moment, nobody spoke, watching the seed with adoring smiles. Y/N's expression softened too, feeling as if the Great Mother herself had blessed her. Eywa had spoken.

“It seems like Eywa tries hard to convince you, my child,” Mo’at's words were soothing, her voice softening as she spoke with adoration for her world.

"To be chosen by Eywa is a wondrous thing,” Neytiri added with a grin.

Y/N’s gaze met Neteyam's, his eyes searching for any sign of what she was thinking. Did he feel the same pressure as her? Did he want this, or was he as trapped as she was?

“Is this really how it works?” Y/N asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Eywa speaks to us in many ways, my child,” Mo’at nodded.

chapter 2 →

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