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jacevelaryonswife · 1 year

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Kneel to the Empire or die with the Republic

A woman cannot be left alone to her own fate. After the fall of what you used to know, your only option was to kneel to him.

pairing: Young!Gaius Julius (Augustus Imperator) x Fem!reader

warnings and a note: angst, grief. This story is based on Domina (tv show), I don't have so much knowledge about the historical facts that involve Augustus, so, for those who have more baggage I'm sorry if something sounds wrong from what happened, please be kind, or just don’t read. English is not my first language. 3,8k

In addition to grief, other factors tightened your chest after your father's death. A good man, a faithful supporter of the Roman Republic and power of the Senate, a patrician descended from an important aristocratic lineage, and the most aggravating: one of those responsible for orchestrating the assassination of Gaius Iulius Caesar.

When the military forces of Gaius Julius, born Gaius Octavius, great-nephew of Julius Caesar, began to act in Rome, you knew you had few certainties and much to fear. Perhaps you were executed with your family, dying in an honorable way and with your head held high against a dictator (in the words of your older brother), or just having your traitorous blood eliminated by the defended cause of the heir of the most important man in Rome. They said he was different, a restorer of the Republic, a supporter of power in the hands of the people and the Senate, a middle ground between Caesar and the most avid Republicans. In those days, nothing was clearer to you than your death, however, Gaius Julius' stroke of mercy in sparing women and children from those considered enemies was at the same time a breath of relief and a punch in the lung.

Relief to the fact that you would have a chance to live, since the fear occurred when your brothers did not have the same luck when they were sentenced to death.

"What are we going to do?" You asked scared.

The two looked at each other for a considerable time, with Nero lowering his head before answering: "you will stay here and we are going to fight.”

“What? I can't stay here! There must be somewhere where his men don't find us."

"And how would you live? Running away forever? It's not the fate our father wanted for you." Claudius said.

"That's exactly what he would do instead of kneeling to a dictator, what do you expect me to do?"

“We are trying to protect you! There is no gentle future beyond these walls and I’m sure that Julius' men will still be less kind if they capture you," Nero said, exalting himself before holding your hands: "we cannot risk your life beyond ours, our father is not here, our allies are almost all dead, there is no hope for the three of us, but there may be for you."

The fall of tears marked your face until they flowed into the union of your hands. “I don't want to be alone,” you whined.

"You won’t”

It wasn't known at the time, but that was the last time you were with your brothers. The soldiers of Gaius Julius broke into your house the same night, looking closely for any fresh trail of male presence. The soldiers responsible for your safety were murdered without any chance of defense, with the exception of those who submitted quickly, fearful for their lives. You didn't judge them, how could you, after all?

When a man pressed you incisively on the whereabouts of your blood, shaking your shoulders rudely, an authoritarian voice interrupted him with a short message:

"Not her."

With wide eyes and irregular breathing, you were released immediately. The violence on the inside was mirrored on the outside, being the clearest reminder of those destined to die with the Republic. Your inert body remained in the sights of the man who guaranteed your release, the same facing you a few seconds after his order.

“My men will do your protection tonight,” he said.

The confusion in your frightened face was clear on the tip of your tongue when you asked a simple question:

"Why?" That didn't happen to other women.

"You'll know at the right time."

That's all the man said.

You remained static for long minutes after the departure of those who vandalized your home, with your father's servants — ordered by them — to remove the corpses from the house and sanitize the rooms to their original. Impossible. Doesn’t matter if the blood is removed, the death will be marked forever in each piece of furniture and corridor. One of the soldiers responsible for "your protection" approached with fear and touched your arm with delicacy, hitherto unknown to you, to get you out of the trance.

“We will assume from here, go back to rest,” he said.

"What's going to happen?" Your question was weak, almost like a meow.

"The house will be cleaned and the perimeter protected."

"From who? Why do you want to protect me?"

He remained silent for a few minutes before answering: "I'm not allowed to say."

Permission? What was going on? What was being planned for you? And by whom? Gaius Julius himself or one of his trusted men? Would you be held hostage? Would you marry any of them? Would it be sold as a slave or prostitute?

The rest of the night was spent in torment, with you pushing the internal lock of your door hard and putting on a clot to try to hide some jewels and coins with you in case you needed it and managed to escape. Sleeping was not an option, but a part of you wished that sleep would erase the horrors experienced and the departure of his brothers, so nervousness and fear partially succumbed to sleep. You allowed yourself to stay in the room a little longer that morning, ashamed of facing your servants and guards (no longer yours, but of the men of Gaius), only to receive a knock on the door of the same man you spoke to for the last time.

“I would like to sleep a little more,” you said through the door, afraid enough to open it.

His breathing was perfectly audible, followed by a moment of silence. "You will have some time, but you will need to leave soon to feed yourself and receive the lady Octavia's visit."

Octavia? Octavia Minor? Brother of Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus? What the fuck was going on?

If there was any pretension of tiredness in you it was in a distant past, your mind had just been set on fire with what was going to happen, with what that woman might want with you. She was no stranger, visually speaking, since the glimpse of her red hair and elegant posture were seen by you at the wedding of Livia Drusila and Tiberius Claudius Nero. She, Scribonia, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa and him, the reason for everything that is happening, with his hair and eyes dark as the night, with cheap charm and indecent actions.

You didn’t forget how you caught him having inadequate relations with Cicero's wife during the celebration, how he didn’t seem intimidated or embarrassed by his wide eyes, or how he went to you discreetly after your escape, so calm and carefree that it seemed unreal.

It's too unreal to have him by your side. Too unreal that he approached the daughter of one of the men responsible for the death of his great-uncle.

“I'm sorry you saw that, I should have chosen a place with a door,” he said when he settled comfortably standing next to him.

Your breath froze when you heard such a lack of respect, was he making fun of you?

"Don't worry, the time will come when you will do that for your husband," he provoked again, not receiving silence in response.

"Have you finished yet?" Your question was irritated, although low, without looking him in the eye.

"Yes, I did."

You didn't notice his pertinent choice of words, keeping yourself in the same place while waiting for him to leave.

“A beautiful thing like you deserve a better husband than Livia's,”

And so, he left your side.

Everything that preceded your departure from the room to the bath and to the food resulted in a constant tension in every room of your house. You felt eyes accompanied by you at all times, both from the soldiers of Gaius and from your father's slaves. It seemed that another series of murders would happen and was only prevented, for the time being, by the visit of the dictator's sister, which happened in the early afternoon.

A comforting smile directed to you was present before and after the hug given. "I'm sorry for what happened yesterday, the war usually gets the best of us."

That couldn't be said to her, you thought.

“Thank you.”

One of the guards guided the way to his father's conversation room, where there was some fruit and wine waiting. Quick flashes of happy memories made you walk slower before sitting next to her, it seemed like an eternity from full happiness, and maybe you would never fully recover it.

“Your house is quite beautiful,” Octavia began, looking around, “I always imagined it was, but it's different when being inside.”

“Has had better days,” you said apathetic, looking down.

Holding your hands, she held your chin to face her. “Again, I'm sorry for what happened. It has been a difficult period for all of us, on both sides, and I imagine that being alone in a world of men is more aggravating. That's why I'm here." Your silence made her continue, although she did not mention of stopping. "I believe you follow your father's ideas, perhaps not because you understand what a republic means, but because you accept what your blood believed-"

"I know what the republic means, just as I know what your brother is doing, but I don't think he came here to ask for my opinion," you interrupted her.

“Not an opinion, but a decision,” she rectified.

“And what decision is that?"

She looked down, displaying a strange smile as she took a deep breath. Her response took a while, as Octavia calmly took a bunch of grape in her hands and picked up a berry before resuming the subject.

"Your father's decision to delay choosing a suitor for you was quite risky for your reputation, rumors could have been made about your purity instead. I like to think he was kind, to the same extent as a fool. But maybe, all this time serves a greater purpose,” she took another break, waiting for you to guess, but everything seemed too absurd to unravel.

"What purpose?"

"A woman cannot be alone in the world, especially one with your birth. When the news that your brothers are gone is spread, men of all regions and ages have prowled your carcass and will force a marriage to get your dowry. Maybe some of your uncles or cousins, or any of them. I come here today to offer a better proposal than any of them: Gaius."

The self-control over your expressions was not well executed, since your eyes frowned and your mouth opened. No, it couldn't be. It was a fucking joke. How... how dare she?

"What?" You asked out loud. “Gaius? Your brother Gaius?"

"Yes, he in person." Octavia answered.

“Why? Why do you want me to marry him? Why me?"

“Although many claim that Gaius intends to end the Senate and Republic, this has already proved to be a fallacy. In his trajectory, he showed that he did not conquer power alone. In fact, the Senate is on its way to deliver this power to him, because it recognizes his virtues. He is a merciful man, who wishes to restore the Republics to their glory days.”

“Merciful?” You asked. “Where is the pity in sentencing my brothers to death? How nice would it be to marry the heir of the man my father helped kill? How good would it be to marry the man who is the reason why all this is happening?” Your voice came out exalted again.

Octavia, in turn, restricted herself to looking down. “All the men who remain in Rome will be supporters of Gaius, maybe yes, some dissatisfied rebel can remain, but in the end, their opinion will be worth nothing, so any husband they arrange for you will be loyal to my brother, it’s no less worse.”

“Gaius decreed the death of my brothers, that’s bad enough,” you answered.

“But what will be worse for you: to be unhappy with a bad stranger or to be the wife of a young sovereign leader? My brother was not very favorable to your family, but he would not do the atrocities that could happen to you being alone and vulnerable at this time.”

No answer was formulated by you, maybe a punch in the stomach would be preferable when facing your reality.

“Gaius himself suggested this idea,” she added.

Before or after declaring your brothers as enemies? How could he think of something like that? The memory of your family and your dignity was insulting! You would become what you wouldn’t like to say and that your father would vehemently deny.

“It’s a lot to assimilate, I know, so you have until the rest of the day to think about, tomorrow one of the soldiers will take your answer in writing,” Octavia said.

“No,” you said. “I’ll come to you. Papers can be tampered with, not my word. But I ask you to order your brother’s men not to touch any woman in this house during my absence.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

It was a deal. A marriage proposal by Gaius Julius Caesar. Not a request, an agreement, that’s what it was, an arrangement to improve his image. That was your function, to improve the lives of men, and unfortunately, even if you don’t choose it, there is no way to get out of this situation unscathed, because Octavia didn’t lie when she referred to the fate that awaited you. But that was worse, he was to blame for the chaos and violence that Rome witnessed, the reason why your home was destroyed. You were truly scared between choosing such options. They were all bad in many ways, but Gaius’s was disrespectful and humiliating. And yet you were still considering it. Was surviving so important?

Or was it that you were too cowardly to face your destiny. Between running away and getting married, you preferred death, but you were too cowardly to cut your throat. Maybe one of Gaius’ men could do this after you rejected the proposal, or Octavia herself could meet someone who messed with poisons. By the Gods, you were desperate.

“I don’t know what to do,” you told a personal servant while bathing.

You still didn’t know what to do when you went to sleep, when you woke up the next day, when you ate nothing more than a few grape berries, when you were taken to where Octavia was and when you faced her. You believed that years could pass and you would not yet have a concrete answer to that situation, but even so, the known evil (Gaius) seemed less worse than what could happen if you rejected it.

Even though it is a simple word, it has never been so difficult to make a statement before.

“Yes.”

You accepted him as yours.

Gaius’ sister’s smile was warm, wrapping your body in a hug while saying that from now on you would be sisters. Your dresses and goods would be sent to your new home, and a few maids could be taken too — at your insistence.

“We have our trusted servants, no need to worry,” Octavia said.

And then it became clear that the evaluation of his company was not only for capacity, but for loyalty and security.

“Gaius will be back soon, I’m sure he will be pleased with your presence here,” she said next. “You couldn’t have chosen better.”

Choices. No, you didn’t want to keep torturing yourself by thinking about the other options.

However, a curious fact was noticed by you in the days that followed in Gaius’ house, under the company of Octavia and other ladies: they would die to be in your position. Or rather, they would kill to be the wife of the next leader of Rome. It was one of the certainties you came to believe, Gaius Julius would not lose the war and those women would do anything to be in youe place. The feeling of danger that filled you on the other days was terrifying, restless and too tense to remain surrounded by other people. Turning to Octavia about the possibility of being poisoned, she eased your fears by saying that everything that arrived on your plate was tasted by others noticed. It wasn’t so comforting when you realized that people could die for you. No, that was insanity. Everything related to what you were living was insanity.

Long days and long nights were bathed in fear in your new home, but nothing compared when the news of his return echoed through the walls. Next to your faithful friends, men, family and servants, there you were, in the center, next to your new sister. The smile that stamped his front was raised when he saw your serious and nervous figure waiting for him. The son of a bitch looked like he had won the biggest of the prizes. And in fact, he did it, after all, his image was built for that.

For the reconstruction of the Republic.

No word of his speech was heard by you, just waiting for such torment to end. But the celebrations were just beginning. At first, he did not go directly to meet you, but in the middle of the night, when you were away for too long in a distant room, he approached surreptitiously with gentle steps.

“Even though it was a generous proposal, a large part of me thought you would refuse it,” he said, calm with a breeze.

A sigh was your first reaction.

“A large part of me thought about refusing.”

He stood next to you, or in front of you (depending on the perspective) in the hallway.

“And what made you change your mind?”

“I don’t know,” you replied.

“Don’t you know?”

“No, I don’t know.”

“So why are you here?”

“I was afraid of being alone, not that I’m not at the moment. Not that the other option was less worse, in fact, both were bad enough.”

“And what was the other option?” He asked with a mixture of humor, surprise and curiosity with his sincere answer.

“Your sister can answer that.”

He didn’t hold his smile this time, even if weak and nasal. After that, he was silent for a while, posture changing up before speaking even lower:

“I’m sorry for your brothers.” Perhaps it would have been better to have been silent since your only reaction was to walk in the same direction that he came, leaving him behind, or trying. “Wait, wait! I’m sorry, it was something stupid to say.” He held your arm firmly, but without being rude, as he got even closer.

“Yes, it was,” you agreed and showed the frown you fought so hard to disguise.

“There was nothing to do about them,” he confessed.

“No? Did your supporters say that or was it your idea to declare them as enemies?” You asked (accused) him.

“Would they accept to be loyal to me?”

Of course not.

“I thought you was doing this for the people and the Senate, to restore the Republic,”

“And I am, but would they accept this if it was done by me?”

You smiled with mockery, looking the other way and leaving him unanswered.

“I know you have enough reasons not to trust me, or hate me, but I don’t intend to fail as a husband, and I don’t intend to disrespect you,” he said, trying to soften.

“Just like you disrespected Cicero?” You remembered the incident at Livia’s wedding.

It was his turn to sigh, releasing your arm to hold your hand.

“Cívero married her because her family is rich. That’s why everyone gets married: money, power and family. That the only thing that’s matter.”

“That’s why we’re getting married. Money, power and family,” you said bitterly.

“Yes, it’s. But I know it wasn’t an easy decision fot you to make.”

If your conscience wasn’t trying to push him away, you could have noticed a certain compassion in his beautiful eyes.

“No, you don’t know. You don’t.” That was too much, no, it was an excess of what you could handle. “You have no idea what it’s been like to live with this burden. The people I loved are dead and I feel that at any moment I will be next, and I will still marry you. No, you don’t know how I feel. My father would bitterly deny me if I were alive, my brothers too, because I’m going to marry you, because I’m a fucking traitor!” Tears collapsed violently from your eyes. “Because I have nothing else, there’s nothing left.”

Oh no. He advanced on you with a tight hug, holding your head against his chest. “It’s ok, it’s ok, you’ll be fine, I promise, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for all this. I promise I won’t betray you, I promise, I’m sorry.”

You didn’t know how many tears you had saved for that moment, for him. Because of him. You couldn’t imagine leaning over to seek comfort in him, squeezing him so hard to prevent him from running away. But he wouldn’t go anywhere, no, he wouldn’t. He wrapped you in a cocoon while holding the back of your head. The inconvenient thought that incriminated him for your situation was unpleasant to deal with, for him, and unconsciously, for you, a small relief was present in the back of your mind because no one was around.

“I promise you, nothing less than respect. I can’t get back what was lost, but I can guarantee new things,” he said when you calmed down.

“I don’t need jewelry, Gaius, or dresses, or maids. I already have that, I’ve always had it,” you countered it.

“I’m not talking about material goods. Some things need interference to be solved, others can be remedied by time, or mitigated. I don’t intend to put pressure or do little of you, I know it wouldn’t work, and that’s not how I want to solve things between us. I hope one day you can forgive me, I’ll be waiting for that.”

Taking a risk by kissing your forehead with affection was dangerous, but touching your lips was off limits. He has waited so long for you, since he saw your wide eyes and beautiful face at Livia Drusilla’s wedding. A beautiful girl from an important family, the same family involved in the size of her great-uncle, yet a beautiful girl to have by his side. He knows it was cruel to have made such a proposal, but it would be even more cruel to leave you for your luck. He could not allow this, not when your fragility was exposed to him in a more frighteningly palpable way, not when even in suffering you confronted him. Call him a fool or hopeful, but he believed that eventually, taking time or not, you would be totally his.

The confusion was evident in your eyes when he felt for the first time the slight landing of soft and gentle lips against your own. His lips... kissing you. Your eyes closed in the final seconds, before a whispered statement was sworn to you in a serious and masculine tone:

“Everything will be fine.”

————————

I didn’t like this as much as I imagined.

general taglist: @chompchompluke

tag for this fic: @lovelykhaleesiii @arcielee

#gaius julius x reader #young!gaius julius x reader #domina hbo #tom glynn carney #gaius octavius x reader #gaius julius caesar #emperor augustus #fanfiction #tom glynn

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 1 year

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{The Tripple Cone Cup!}

《The royal of the renowned cookie kingdom has arrived!》

"Your highness, we've arrived." Raspberry Cookie states, her chest slightly puffed up in pride for being chosen to protect you and your fellow cookies. What an honor for House Raspberry!

Gingerbrave stood beside you as the two of you watched the clouds fade away and the air blimp slowly falls to the landing area.

"Wow... Everything looks so amazing!" The younger cookie announced. You let out a chuckle, full-heartedly agreeing with him.

With the aid of Raspberry Cookie, your court, and company help you get off the air-ballon. The garb you wore, was hand-made by Mont-Blanc, who had to choose the colors of the outfit to represent your kingdom.

"Sweet mother of dough!"

"No way!"

"Who is that cookie?"

"They look like royalty!"

Other cookies whisper as they see your group.

You do your best to have your head held high, but all you wanted to do was hide.

Ignoring the whispers or glares some of your cookies throw at passersby. You all head inside the arena.

"My goodness, it's been some time, your highness." Elder Sugar Cookie greets you, you nod to her and Financier Cookie.

"It has, it's nice to see you again!" You reply as she smiles at you.

"You must join me later for some scones and such, it would be an honor, truly."

"Of course, but I'm only here as a spectator with my.." You wanted to say, friends, but you remembered the etiquette lessons you forced yourself to learn to appease the elder cookies of the Crème Republic "Court."

"I see, well, please consider my offer when you have the time."

Financier bows respectively at you, holding in her smile as she accompanied Elder Sugar Cookie back to her chambers.

"Ah! The great ruler of the cookie kingdom, I bow to you with the utmost respect!" A new voice states, turning your head, you see a cookie with a microphone in hand.

"Hello, Gelato Tripple Cone cookie, were you the one that sent the invitation?"

"Yes, indeed! I'm surprised, but utterly great full you accepted."

You wave your hand dismissively, "no I should be thanking you. I've never been to such a place before, the island is beautiful."

"I thank you once more, your highness! Please allow me to escort you and your guests to your rooms."

After dropping off the luggage in your chambers, Gelato Tripple Cone takes you and your friends to the spectator's lounge.

(What you didn't know was that it was specifically made for only your group instead of the other cookie attendees.)

Gelato Tripple Cone cookie finishes his speech before he pays tribute to... Well.. You.

"Many gracious thanks for The Royal of The Cookie Kingdom! [Title] (Y/N) Cookie! May we have a few words, your highness?

Gelato Tripple Cone comes to your both, holding the microphone out to you.

You take the mic carefully, the anticipation in the audience could be cut with a knife.

"M-may blessings be upon you, all of you. Whether you win or lose, just know, that you are still the pride of your school. You worked hard to be here, never lose sight of that. G-good luck to you!"

You wanted to hurl, that speech wanted awful.

Excited cheers and scream were heard all over the arena.

The champions of the event bowing to you with respect. "Th-that was beautiful your majesty!!" Tripple Cone cried dramatically.

"Did you see that!'' "I can't believe it!?"

Parfeadia Principle, Crème Kights Preceptor, and Headmaster of Scovilla all stand before you. They bow their heads as their chosen cookies do the same.

"Your majesty, may we humbly request your blessings for our representatives."

Shocked by this, you do your best to not freak out and figure out how to give a blessing without making a fool out of yourself.

[Thank you for reading! Comments, reblog and art are appreciated!]

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dyns33 · 6 months

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The Mand'alor

HAPPY PEDRO DAY !!!

I wanted to do a tiny bit dark Mand'alor Din Djarin x reader, but the sweet part in me is really bad at this.

The whole galaxy had heard of the Mandalorians and their leader, the terrible Mand'alor, with his shining armor and his darksaber. A group of mercenaries, weapons fanatics, relentless killers.

They had fought against the Empire, they didn't like the Republic very much, and no one really dared to force them to follow the new rules. They had a code of honor, but also a lot of pride and temperament.

Y/N had never seen a Mandalorian. There wasn't much action on her little planet, even during the war. Few people stopped there, unless they had to, to find resources, rest, or hide for a while.

When the little green thing grabbed her leg in the street, she jumped. She almost kicked to get away, but her eyes met the child's, full of fear and hope, and Y/N stopped to lean closer to him.

He didn't speak, either because he was too young or because he used another language, but she couldn't get anything out of him by asking his name or what he was doing here. What was certain was that he was bleeding slightly from his right ear, and that he needed help.

Those who were running after the little one didn't take long to find them, following Y/N to her place. Luckily for her, they were also being followed.

She had never seen a Mandalorian, but she had heard the legends, and she watched this tall, armored man kill the attackers one by one without the slightest difficulty.

As soon as he finished, he approached her, who was holding the child in her arms, ready to defend him against this new threat.

“You’re alright ?” he asked with a calm voice, extending his hand towards the child who fidgeted, wanting to reach him.

"I won't let you hurt him."

"Oh, little me'suum'ika. I would never harm my ad. My son. These cowards pretended to be warriors to come in and kidnap him. Without you… Vor'e, mesh'la ! Thank you. You have all my gratitude. I want to show you all my gratitude, will you come with us ?"

There would have been several reasons to refuse to follow the stranger, clearly dangerous and masked, but the kid seemed to trust him completely, jumping on him as soon as Y/N let go of him a little.

The Mandalorian claimed to be his father, and he acted like one, patting his little head and whispering reassuring words, along with apologies for not having properly protected him.

His invitation was not an obligation, Y/N felt that he would not insist if she refused, but there was nothing very important on her planet, she had no family for a long time, and she never left this place. A little adventure would be fun.

The trip shouldn't last very long, just to please her as a thank you, before moving on.

There were some things she didn't know at the time.

First thing, a Mandalorian never forgot. Mando'ad draar digu. He would never move on.

Second thing, the leader of the Mandalorian forgot even less. Din Djarin, as he entrusted his name to her as an immense privilege, adored his son more than anything in the world. So he held Y/N in high regard for defending him when she didn't know the child and wasn't a fighter.

In addition, little Grogu seemed to have become very attached to her.

The last thing was whispered to her, even though it had been several weeks since she arrived on Mandalore, where she was treated like a true princess. Shyly, she asked when she would return home.

“Aren’t you happy here ?” asked Bo-Katan, the captain of the guard. "A simple word and our Mand'alor will do anything for your pleasure."

"Everything is perfect. I don't want to intrude too long by abusing your hospitality, that's all."

“Has anyone made a comment to you ?”

"No not at all." Y/N replied nervously.

No one said anything, but it was strange to be the only person not wearing armor all the time.

In the interest of fairness, the Mand'alor had allowed those who wished to remove their helmet, but he himself did not remove it in front of anyone, maintaining an old, almost fanatical belief.

However, he had not asked Y/N to convert, drawing the attention of his people to this new woman. They said nothing, but she felt their eyes on her.

“He will kill the first person who dares to criticize you.” Bo-Katan said before speaking lower. "It must be said… There is a werde in him. The sword is heavy to carry."

"I do not know this word."

"Just know that you are important to him. You help him a lot. Stay as long as you want."

It took her a bit longer to understand that she was more or less a prisoner. Free to roam the palace and the city, but not to leave Mandalore. Din Djarin wanted to keep her here.

The looks turned towards her were not full of hatred, but on the contrary of pity, mixed with a certain hope.

Since inheriting the darksaber, their leader was no longer the same. He hadn't completely lost his mind thanks to his son, but he had some moments of extreme, uncontrollable violence.

These attacks had calmed down a bit since Y/N’s arrival. No doubt Din didn't want to scare her or lower her esteem. There were rumors that she was his ori'copaad, which didn't entirely seem like a good thing.

“Uur !” he growled as the Armorer came to see him to talk politics. “I don’t care at all about the Republic.”

"Me too, Mand'alor, but we should receive them. They might try to harm us."

"They can try, they will fail. I have no chaab, none."

"Really, Mand'alor ?"

At that moment, Din turned his head towards Y/N, who was discreetly listening to them from the garden, Grogu snickering in her lap. He remained silent for a moment, before sighing.

"Fine. Contact them."

“Your aliit will be proud of this decision.”

More than not being able to leave, Y/N found this habit they had of going from basic to a language that she didn't understand quite painful. As if they were doing it on purpose.

The Mand'alor was the only one who made an effort with her, translating most of the unknown words. He only kept what seemed like nicknames a mystery.

“What does “mesh’la” mean ?”

“That means you, kar’ta.”

"And that ? What does that mean ?"

“Cyare, you ask a lot of questions.”

“And you don’t give many answers.”

“Mir’sheb.” he sneered, handing hier Grogu. She was the only one to whom he entrusted his son like this. "Your buir is a mir'sheb, like you. Give her a mureyca."

The child's hug, plus all of Din's attention, almost made her want to forgive him. Aside from the fact that she knew she wasn't allowed to leave, nothing made her want to leave.

But Y/N didn’t think she belonged here. She wasn't a Mandalorian, and as a leader, equivalent to a king, Din had no time to waste on her. Maybe she had saved his son, but she wasn't anything special.

Whenever he could escape his responsibilities, he would come with Grogu to watch her play with the child and talk about her.

He had to see that she had nothing interesting to offer.

This was why she tried to flee, by taking a ship. Her father had shown her how to fly before he died, it had been a long time. She therefore had to be discreet to have a maximum head start, to have a chance that they would lose her tracks.

Unfortunately Bo-Kanta had been very serious in telling her that she was important to Din. Her surveillance was as important as it was for Grogu. Her absence was quickly noticed, and reported to the Mand'alor.

Being the best tracker, he personally set out in pursuit, without having to yell at the others not to shoot at the stolen ship. They all knew what they were risking if Y/N got hurt.

"Dank farrik, cyare ! Y/N ! Stop !" She could hear him shouting into the communicator, what sounded like sadness in his voice. "Why are you leaving ? Vhey vencuyot… Cyare… Talk to me, tell me what's going on !"

It was very dangerous but she managed to lose him by passing through an asteroid field. Since it would be too obvious that she was going to return to her planet, she headed to a small system, landing on Tatooine.

Yet she had heard the legends. You couldn't escape the Mandalorians, and even less the Mand'alor.

This time, when a hand grabbed her arm, she didn't hold her foot. But beskar was a hard metal, and she probably did more harm to herself than to Din, who let go of her all the same, surprised by her reaction.

He didn't attempt to touch her again, simply following her as she ran through the alleys, begging her to listen to him.

Her run ended in a dead end, and that didn't seem to surprise the Mandalorian. He obviously knew this planet.

"Cyare… Why are you running from me ? Grogu misses you a lot. You… My commander told me that you can ignore what you really represent, but I don't dare believe that."

"I don't understand."

"Oh, mesh'la… As soon as I saw you with my son, I knew that my heart was yours, that I couldn't live without knowing that you were happy and safe. The missing part of my clan, of my life. Nor ceta, Y/N. I thought my intentions were clear. Will you forgive me ? Will you accept… Come home with me, gedet'ye. I beg you."

After everything he had done, she wasn't sure he would take no for an answer. But Din had never hurt her since they met. He had always been gentle and patient. If she could have seen his face, it would probably have been more obvious that he was looking at her with complete devotion.

Seeing that she didn't say no, he approached slowly, until his helmet touched her forehead. She then heard him sigh in relief.

Y/N had seen some Mandalorians do this. Bo-Katan had explained that it was a mirshmure'cya, a keldabe kiss. A very important form of privacy for those of them who did not remove their full armor.

She wondered if she would ever see him if she stayed. For a while she had imagined his face, until he told her that Grogu had been adopted. It would be a terrible offense to ask him for this sacrifice. But he asked him to stay locked up in his palace.

"I would like to see you." she whispered, trying not to tremble.

"See me ?"

"Yes. I mean, I like you a lot. I like Grogu. But I would like to know what you look like."

“Will that change anything ?”

"… No." Y/N said honestly. “I’m just curious.” To see his face, but also if he would do this for her, he who said he would do anything.

There was a moment of silence, of hesitation. Then Din nodded, reaching for his helmet to remove it. Immediately, Y/N placed her hands on his to stop him.

"But… Your vows…"

"Cyare. My sweet cyare. I have the right to remove my helmet in front of my aliit. You have been part of my clan since the moment our paths crossed."

“But you’ve never done this before.”

"I didn't dare… I didn't want to disappoint you and… I wanted to wait for our riduurok. I haven't properly wooed you for that yet."

"If you are… If you are sure, show me."

“Anything for you, cyare.”

He was younger than she had imagined. More handsome too, with his black eyes and his little intimidated, almost frightened pout. Din let her look at him without moving, displaying an expression of complete satisfaction when she touched his cheek.

He only stopped her when she tried to kiss him.

"Not here."

"Why not ?"

"I wouldn't be able to control myself. And I'd rather we were at home than in a dark alley for that."

The entire galaxy heard of the Mand'alor's marriage to the woman who had saved his son. The only two people who didn't risk his fury, who had some control over him, and for whom he was ready to burn everything if anything happened to them.

Some madmen tried to approach his clan, as they had tried to take Grogu. Rumors of what had happened to them were enough to stop all further attempts.

Even after Y/N managed to convince Din to bring her with him to the few extra-planetary missions he carried out, because she could no longer stand the life of a stay-at-home queen.

"No."

"Please."

"No."

“He’ll bang on the glass until you do.”

“Pato.” Grogu confirmed, fidgeting in his mother's arms.

"… Fine. But this is the last time."

“Of course, riduur.”

“Cyare.” Din purred, a hand settling on her leg, as he activated hyperspace to please their child.

#the mandolarian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfiction #I tried to put a lot of mando'a but not sure they're all correct #pedro day #happy birthday to pedro pascal

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deejadabbles · 1 year

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The Captain and the Shadow (Rex x Jedi!Reader) Prologue

Summary: Captain Rex was honor and duty incarnate, but working with an illusive Jedi shadow makes him rethink everything he thought he wanted out of life. Rex x GN Jedi! Reader, forbidden love, canon divergent Rating: Mature (Minors DNI) A.N: This idea has been rolling around in my head for a very very long time and, because I have no self control, I figured I'd go ahead and start it! This is just a nice little introduction for you guy, but I hope you like it! Word Count: 1,402 Warnings: Mentions of death and violence

Masterlist /// Tag List Sign Up /// AO3

[Coruscant, 37 standard hours after the battle of Geonosis]

The serene quiet of the illustrious Jedi temple was broken as you threw open the ancient hall doors. No one needed to be sensitive in the force to see the fury etched on your face. You hadn’t expected anyone to give chase, all the other knights were too enraptured by Master Yoda’s announcement, but you felt his presence following in your wake.

“Care to explain your outburst?” The cool yet challenging tone was all too familiar and, despite yourself, it made your anger flare all the more.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you clenched your teeth as you turned. There he was, grizzled, weathered face looking even older than you remembered just days ago, gray eyes staring you down with his arms clasped behind his straight back. Usually, Master Col would have the ability to make you squirm under that gaze of his, make you feel like a foolish padawan all over again. But not today, not now.

“I think you know very well, Master,” there was a bite in the words, but you managed not to spit them like a curse.

One of his graying brows lifted towards his hairline, “If you’re not going to bother keeping your anger in check, then speak your mind, child.”

The familiar game of verbal combat was afoot, his words were a way of tossing your proverbial weapon at your feet, and you picked it up with pride. “How can you be okay with this, Master? A war? They’re sending us into an all-out war?!”

“It would seem so.” Typical of the old man, as unmoving as a statue, refusing to strike, forcing you into the offensive.

“What are they thinking? We’re meant to keep the peace, negotiate, protect the innocent. Now they want to make us into soldiers? It’s wrong, Master.” The words were sweeping blows, meant to push him, meant to scratch that stony defense.

Col shrugged, “Jedi battle all the time, child, why do you think we have such rigorous combat training?”

“Defending civilians from pirates or guarding a prince against assassins is not the same as this and you know it!” You were well aware that he was getting under your skin, but you struck harder all the same. “The Jedi aren’t weapons to be thrown around by politicians. We have a duty to protect life, this war may make us betray our own code!”

“This war is happening with or without us, and the best way to protect the innocent is to end the war.”

“But we aren’t soldiers!”

“We are whatever our republic needs us to be!” His stern voice echoed off the empty halls, and despite the raised tone, his posture and stoic expression hadn’t shifted in the slightest.

You only narrowed your eyes at him.

This standstill was familiar too, a common impasse in your debates. Usually, the debates were about Jedi philosophy and beliefs, or decisions made during missions. It was not uncommon for them to have fire, for you to get heated over the topic, but this…this was different. This time it felt like you were clawing yourself out of a pit, and everyone else was carelessly burying you alive in it.

Col had always been harsh with you, even now, years after being a respected knight of the order apart from him and his teachings. He was stern in everything, but you respected him all the same, and you had thought- no, hoped, that maybe he would see your side of things this time.

‘We are whatever our republic needs us to be’? Bantha shit. There was something else going on, there was so much more here, and you weren’t going to accept it blindly.

After a long moment of staring, unflinching, into your old master’s eyes, you said, “I knew of a time when the Jedi thought for themselves.”

It was a loaded statement, and all the times you had debated history with each other gave a heap of unspoken additions to the sentence. You felt a little too much satisfaction when he closed his eyes and heaved a sigh.

“Yes, it is an…imperfect situation, but,” he opened his eyes again, and they were full of that stubborn resolve, “protecting the galaxy from the threat of Dooku and his army is where we need to be. You would rather leave our troops to the hands of those droids? You would send those clone soldiers into battle without our protection?”

Your fists were clenched even tighter now, knuckles white as the memories of Geonosis flashed in your mind.

Hot, arid desert, blood soaking into the sand, death. So much death. You couldn’t save the Jedi who had fallen beside you, and you were desperate to save this man- this man whose presence in the force felt too young, far far too young. You held him as the bleeding filled the cracks of his shattered armor, pulled off his helmet and looked him in the eyes, even as you felt his life slipping through your fingers.

“I- I’m sorry, General,” he choked, gripping your wrist as if that might help him stay a little longer, “I failed you.”

That clone, that soldier, that living, breathing man had died in your arms. He had apologized to you, as if he hadn’t died for a cause he had no choice in. As if he hadn’t died a hero. How dare Master Col imply that you didn’t want to protect those troopers with every ounce of strength the Force gave you!

“Don’t get me started on this- this ‘Grand Army of the Republic’,” you spat, “that’s even more disgusting! Since when do we condone breeding people to be used like cannon fodder?”

“You fought beside them on Geonosis just as I did, child, they were proud to serve.”

“They don’t have a choice! Master, it’s an army of slaves!”

That actually made him step forward, his intimidating aura invading your sense of space, “So now you presume to know their minds? How dare you speak so degradingly about them. You’ve always been bold, my old padawan, but I never knew you to speak on behalf of another being as if they’re children who can’t think for themselves.”

That knocked you off balance and you actually took a step back. You hadn’t expected him to take that route with his rebuttal and some shame flared in your chest.

After a hard swallow, your tone was actually even again, having lost some of its fire, “I’m not trying to speak on their behalf, Master, but I’m not the only one who thinks it’s wrong. If what they say about the clones is true, then we’re taking on men who’ve been told their only purpose is to die for us.”

Something else was rising in place of the anger now.

‘I failed you’

That man’s life had flickered out before your eyes, you had felt his last shuddering breath in your arms as well as his presence in the Force slip away like smoke on the wind. And you knew countless more of his brothers would die just like him. Protecting the sanctity of life was everything to a Jedi- it was everything to you. It’s what made you proud of your order, it’s what made their tight-fisted philosophies worthwhile. Safeguarding life and the innocence of it was what kept you going, even when there were so many doubts about the ways of the Jedi.

If any of you lost your respect for life, then what would become of the order?

“Master,” you tried to keep the emotion from your tone, but it still came out small, almost meek, a vulnerability that you hadn’t shown to Col in many, many years. “I don’t know if I have the strength to lead men to their deaths.”

The silence that rose between you two was almost deafening.

For longer than you thought possible, Master Col simply stared back at you, those stormy eyes betraying nothing of the slight unease you felt from him through the Force.

“Then, I suppose it is fortunate that you will not be leading troops of your own.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Master Yoda spoke with me before he gathered everyone for his speech. He, Master Windu, and I have agreed that you will not be given your own battalion. Your talents and skills are needed in a…different capacity.”

Again, the air was almost ringing with the deathly silence that followed that. After a moment of his words sinking in, you almost wanted to scoff. Of course you weren’t going to charge into the front lines.

In a war, there were far better uses for Jedi Shadow.

Tag List: @blueink-bluesoul @anxiouspineapple99 @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @arcsimper5 @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @clonemedickix @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @moonlightwarriorqueen @briefartnaturewolf @kimiheartblade

#idk why but i'm very nervous about this one #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #rex x jedi reader #clone x jedi #jedi reader #captain rex x you #rex x you #series: the captain and the shadow #deeja writes

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justinspoliticalcorner · 3 months

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Dean Obeidallah at The Dean's Report:

Flash forward to 2024. We are confronted with Donald Trump--an aspiring authoritarian--who like Hitler led a failed coup but then pivoted to use democracy to destroy the Republic. And like with Mein Kampf in the 1930’s, today we are faced with an equally sinister political manifesto called, “Project 2025.” It’s formal name, though, should be “Donald Trump’s Project 2025” because everything about it is Trump and MAGA. [...]

Project 2025 is not hiding the goal of turning their ideas into policy as stated in the opening of the manifesto: “It is not enough for conservatives to win elections. If we are going to rescue the country from the grip of the radical Left, we need both a governing agenda and the right people in place, ready to carry this agenda out on Day One of the next conservative Administration.”

To that end, Project 2025 has created a Presidential Administration Academy to train people in advance so they can be ready to impose the Project 2025 policy agenda once Trump wins. From there, Project 2025 lays out the 180-day playbook that articulates the policies that they will work to impose in the first six months of Trump’s Reich. Here are just a few of policy examples which are obviously taken right from Trump: 1. Making the President a king. The GOP Supreme Court obviously beat Project 2025 to this goal with their recent ruling that a President is literally above the law—as Trump requested of them. But in the case of Project 2025, the focus is not avoiding criminal prosecution, it’s about placing the entire federal bureaucracy, including independent agencies such as the Department of Justice, under the direct control of the President. This is 100% in line with Trump’s stated goals in this campaign. 2. Ending civil service protections to ensure only those loyal to Trump/MAGA are in control. This is literally reinstating a Trump-era executive order that makes federal employees fireable at-will, stripping tens of thousands of employees of civil service protections. In other words, Trump can fill his administration with people loyal to him above the Constitution. 3. Banning abortion and access to certain birth control. This is part of the Christian nationalist agenda of Project 2025 and can be achieved by Trump ordering his FDA to reverse approval of abortion drugs. But let’s not play games, their goal is a total national abortion ban where women are forced to carry a fetus to term against their will. If a GOP controlled Congress passed a national abortion ban, we know Trump will sign it given he has repeatedly told us “I’m the one that got rid of Roe v. Wade” and how “honored” he was to do so. 4. Rolling back protections for LGBTQ people: Project 2025 wants to end LGBTQ workplace discrimination protections so that bigots can more easily fire people from that community. In addition, they are calling for reinstating a transgender military ban as well stopping what it considers the “toxic normalization of transgenderism” across American society. As a reminder, in Trump’s first term, he “initiated a sustained, years-long effort to erase protections for LGBTQ people” as the ACLU detailed. And Trump has vowed to do exactly what Project 2025 is calling for by rolling back Biden protections for the LGBTQ community. 5. Climate change: The plan’s proposals include ending existing climate programs and increasing reliance on fossil fuels. Project 2025 also advocates disbanding various bureaucratic offices related to renewable energy and climate science. Trump--who has repeatedly called climate change a “hoax”--as president rolled back Obama era regulations to address the issue. And if elected, he has pledged to do exactly what Project 2025 laid out—even recently telling oil executives that point blank in exchange for donations. There are also detailed policies that line up perfectly with Trump’s other proposals from extreme anti-immigration proposals intended to keep America white to ending diversity and equity programs to shutting down the Department of Education so that GOP states can they implement education that is literally political and religious indoctrination to tax cuts for the wealthy. This is exactly what Trump has championed and is literally on his website as “Agenda 47.”

Dean Obeidallah wrote this gem on his Dean’s Report Substack column: Project 2025 is the modern-day version of Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf, as the GOP wants to turn the USA into a fascist state like Hungary.

Trump can disavow Project 2025 all he wants, but in reality, he had a large imprint into it.

#Dean Obeidallah #Project 2025 #Donald Trump #The Dean's Report #Agenda 47

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dzthenerd490 · 13 days

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News Post

Palestine

The people of Gaza belong in Palestine – not Canada or DRC | Israel-Palestine conflict | Al Jazeera

UK protest groups change Palestine march date to avoid overlap with Yom Kippur | Middle East Eye

https://thewire.in/world/palestine-diary-meeting-people-whose-only-hope-is-our-anger

U.S. urges Israel to swiftly investigate killing of American woman in West Bank : NPR

Ukraine

Moscow: Ukraine strikes Russian capital in biggest drone attack to date | CNN

UK halts all Iran flights as allies step up sanctions (yahoo.com)

Russia-Ukraine war updates: US says Iran sent ballistic missiles to Russia | Russia-Ukraine war News | Al Jazeera

Sudan

How Sudan’s devastating civil war became a global battleground (ft.com)

Sudan rejects UN call for peace force to protect civilians (bbc.com)

Sudan: Several killed as RSF hits busy market – DW – 09/09/2024

Who will protect civilians in war-torn Sudan? | Conflict News | Al Jazeera

Other

IDF shows tunnels in Gaza where hostages killed by Hamas - The Jerusalem Post (jpost.com)

Gerd: Ethiopia hits out at Egypt as Nile dam row escalates (bbc.com)

Painting from prison: Egypt’s iconic activist, Inji Efflatoun | Women's Rights | Al Jazeera

WHO delivers 14 tons of emergency supplies for mpox response in the Democratic Republic of the Congo | WHO | Regional Office for Africa

Service members killed in Afghanistan honored in Congressional Gold Medal ceremony - CBS News

Taliban ban Afghanistan women from raising voices (bbc.com)

UN investigators warn of widespread abuses in Myanmar conflict | UN News

Revolution and solidarity in Myanmar - New Mandala

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aedesluminis · 11 months

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Simonne Évrard's speech of 8 August 1793 in the National Convention

"I am not here to ask you the favors of cupidity that claims and craves for indigence. Marat’s widow just needs a grave. Before I get to the relieving end of my tormented life, I come to ask you for justice towards the new attacks committed against the memory of the most intrepid and outraged of the people’s defenders. These monsters, how much gold did they lavish! How many hypocritical pamphleteers were paid to put his name to shame! With such hateful rage, they tried so hard to give him a colossal political existence and a detestable celebrity, in order to dishonor the people’s cause that he proudly defended. This day, still stained by his blood, they persecute him to his grave; some other day, they still dare to murder his memory. They are even trying to depict the monster, who pierced his chest with the parricide iron, as an intriguing heroine. In this circle we see the vilest of them all, the Carra, the Ducos, the Dulaure, the shameless praises in their periodicals to encourage their peers to slaughter what is left of the defenders of liberty. I do not talk about the vile Pétion who, in Caen, during a meeting with his accomplices, dared to say that the murder was a virtue.

Soon enough the foolish treachery of the conspirators, who pretend to honor the civic virtues, will make the infamous publications grow, where the horrible murder is presented in favorable ways and the martyr of the patrie is disfigured by the most hideous convulsions.

But here it is the most wicked of their schemes: They bribed some foolish writers who shamelessly usurp his name and tarnish his principles to immortalize the empires of lies which he was victim of! Cowards! First, they flatter the people’s pain to get their praise, then they speak the language of patriotism and morality so that the people believe to still be listening to Marat; but all of this is just to slander the most zealous defenders who have protected them. It is to preach, in Marat’s name, the exaggerations that his enemies attributed to him.

I denounce two men in particular, Jacques Roux and Leclerc, who claim to carry on his patriotic papers and make his shadow talk to insult his memory and to betray the people. After spouting revolutionary platitudes, they encourage the people to outlaw the government. It is in those occasions that they use his name to stain in blood the day of the 10th of August, because his sensitive soul, devastated by the sight of the crimes of tyranny and the uneasiness of humanity, sometimes let out some rightful curses towards the people’s oppressors and public leeches. They try to preserve the parricide lie that persecuted him and made him look like a foolish apostle of anarchy and chaos. And who are these men that claim his place? It is a priest, who the day after the faithful deputies triumphed over their cowardly enemies, came to insult the National Convention through a seditious and wicked speech. There is another man, no less perverse, who is associated with the mercenary furors of said impostor. What is important to remark is that these two men are the same who had been denounced by him at the Cordeliers’ club just a few days before his death as people paid by our enemies to create public disorder and, on the same occasion, they were also formally expelled from this popular society. What is the aim of this perfidious faction that fuels these criminal intrigues? It is to vilify the people who honor the memory of the one who died for their cause. It is to slander all the friends of the patrie, whom it has designated as Maratists; to deceive all the French people across the whole republic, who gather for the reunion of August the 10th, by presenting them their perfidious writings, in which they preach the teaching of the very people’s representative they slaughtered. It is to cause disturbance in these solemn days through some disastrous catastrophe.

God! What will become of the people? If these men can usurp their trust! What is the deplorable condition of their intrepid defenders if death itself cannot avoid them the fury of their murderers! Legislators, for how long would you endure it if crime insulted virtue? Where does this privilege come from, of English and Austrian emissaries to trap public opinion, to give daggers to the defenders of our laws and to know the founding valor of our raising republic? If you let them go unpunished then I denounce them all here to the French people, to the universe. The memory of the martyrs of liberty and the heritage of the people; that of Marat is the only good deed left to me, I devote to his defense the last days of a languid life. Legislators, avenge the patrie, the honesty, the misfortune and the virtue, striking at the most cowardly of all the enemies.”

Original in French

I did the translation in English myself. Let me know if I made some mistakes or if some parts need revision!

Last edit: 31/10/23

#simonne evrard #frev #french revolution #my translations #marat

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ohello0 · 7 months

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In honor of Women's History Month and International Women's Day, I would like to dedicate a post to ways we can help women around the world facing genocide and gender based violence. Below are a list of organizations and groups to donate to focused on bettering the lives of and providing direct aid to women and girls in areas of conflict. This is an evolving list/resource so I will gladly take suggestions or edit requests from anyone who knows of a verified group helping women and girls that could be added to this list.

Access to Menstrual Products and Repro Healthcare

Sudan, Palestine, DRCongo, Lebanon

Sudan

Periods don’t stop for war: For every $5 Donated a woman or girl in Sudan receives a menstrual hygiene kit for the month

Let's Talk Period: As disposable menstrual hygiene products are too expensive for most women, grassroots groups have popped up to make, distribute, and educate other women and girls on how to make their own reusable pads.

Sudan Charity Navigator: A list of charities including Doctors Without Borders and food assistance groups providing aid to Sudan

Darfur Women Action Group: DWAG advocates for the protection of civilians, promotes women’s leadership, provides elementary education for children in refugee camps, and provides trauma counseling for survivors of sexual violence

Amal for Women: Amal For Women was able to help people in Al-Jazeera state, Darfur and refugees in Egypt. GoFundMe/PayPal doesn’t release the funds raised until the 25th of March. Please consider donating to reach more people the rest of Ramadan and Eid. Other donation links and more info here

Palestine

Pious Projects: "At $20 each, this kit will include - but is not limited to - sanitary pads, a hair brush, tooth brush, toothpaste, cotton swabs, wipes, tissues, and other hygienic items depending on availability. Distributions will take place in various areas accessible to on-ground teams such as camps in Rafah and UN schools."

Anera: there’s a list of things certain amounts of money can get the people of Palestine, $10 can get a family a blanket for winter, $40 can provide hygiene kits that include menstrual products, and $75+ can get people a mattress and more

Arab.Org: Free daily clicks generate ad revenue that goes to UNRWA. This link in particular shows you a full list of specific projects in need of funds you can also give to with a click from poverty to the environment to a fund focused on women.

DRCongo

City of Joy: “The City of Joy is a transformational leadership community for women survivors of violence, located in Bukavu, Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). Conceived, owned, and run by local Congolese, the City of Joy has flourished since it first opened its doors in June 2011, healing women from their past trauma through therapy and life skills programming while providing them with the essential ingredients needed to move forward in life – love and community.”

Panzi Foundation: “Every day, between 5 and 7 new survivors walk through our doors. For 20 years, we’ve not only mended each woman’s injuries, we’ve walked with them to healing—every step of the way.”

Lebanon

Global Giving | Days for Girls Lebanon: Health education and locally made washable menstrual kits to women and girls since 2011

Products for Babies and Children

Palestine, Yemen, Sudan, DRCongo

Palestine

Care For Gaza: The work Care For Gaza does is all-encompassing by necessity. From food to money packages to winter clothes to diapers for babies and disabled or elderly adults, Care For Gaza is an on the ground group providing direct aid to Gazans.

Yemen

Go Fund Me: Food Packs and Eid Gifts for the People of Yemen

Sudan

Human Appeal | Sudan Emergency Appeal: Funds orphanages, food, and baby formula

DRCongo

War Child: Tiered donations can provide children with school books, meals, and toys

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is an evolving list/resource so I will gladly take suggestions or edit requests from anyone who knows of a verified group helping women and girls that could be added to this list.

#keep eyes on sudan #liberate sudan #free palestine #reproductive health #reproductive rights #menstrual health #period poverty #international women's day

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dreaminginthedeepsouth · 24 days

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Roevember

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

August 29, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Aug 30, 2024

And now the U.S. Army has weighed in on the scandal surrounding Trump’s visit to Arlington National Cemetery for a campaign photo op, after which his team shared a campaign video it had filmed. The Army said that the cemetery hosts almost 3,000 public wreath-laying ceremonies a year without incident and that Trump and his staff “were made aware of federal laws, Army regulations and [Department of Defense] policies, which clearly prohibit political activities on cemetery grounds.”

It went on to say that a cemetery employee “who attempted to ensure adherence to these rules was abruptly pushed aside…. This incident was unfortunate, and it is also unfortunate that the… employee and her professionalism has been unfairly attacked. [Arlington National Cemetery] is a national shrine to the honored dead of the Armed Forces, and its dedicated staff will continue to ensure public ceremonies are conducted with the dignity and respect the nation’s fallen deserve.”

“I don’t think I can adequately explain what a massive deal it is for the Army to make a statement like this,” political writer and veteran Allison Gill of Mueller, She Wrote, noted. “The Pentagon avoids statements like this at all costs. But a draft dodging traitor decided to lie about our armed forces staff, so they went to paper.”

The deputy Pentagon press secretary Sabrina Singh said the Department of Defense is “aware of the statement that the Army issued, and we support what the Army said.” Hours later, Trump campaign manager Chris LaCivita reposted the offending video on X and, tagging the official account for Army Secretary Christine Wormuth, said he was “hoping to trigger the hacks” in her office.

In Talking Points Memo, Josh Marshall reported that the Trump campaign’s plan was to lay a wreath at Arlington National Cemetery to honor the 13 members of the U.S. military killed in the suicide bombing during the evacuation of Kabul, Afghanistan, in August 2021. They intended to film the event and then attack Vice President Kamala Harris and President Joe Biden for not “showing up” for the event, which they intended to portray as an “established memorial.”

Another major story from yesterday is that the Treasury Department’s Financial Crimes Enforcement Network (FinCEN) has finalized two rules that will work to stop corruption and money laundering in U.S. residential real estate and in private investment.

This is a big deal. As scholar of kleptocracies Casey Michel put it: “This is a massive, massive deal in the world of counter-kleptocracy—the U.S. is finally ending the gargantuan anti–money laundering loopholes for real estate, private equity, hedge funds, and more. Can't overstate how important this is. What a feat.”

After the collapse of the Soviet Union in late 1991, the oligarchs who rose to power in the former Soviet republics looked to park their illicit money in western democracies, where the rule of law would protect their investments. Once invested in the United States, they favored the Republicans, who focused on the protection of wealth rather than social services. For their part, Republican politicians focused on spreading capitalism rather than democracy, arguing that the two went hand in hand.

The financial deregulation that made the U.S. a good bet for oligarchs to launder money got a boost when, shortly after the September 11, 2001, attacks, Congress passed the USA PATRIOT Act to address the threat of terrorism. The law took on money laundering and the illicit funding of terrorism, requiring financial institutions to inspect large sums of money passing through them. But the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network (FinCEN) exempted many real estate deals from the new regulations.

The United States became one of the money-laundering capitals of the world, with hundreds of billions of dollars laundered in the U.S. every year.

In 2011 the international movement of illicit money led then–FBI director Robert Mueller to tell the Citizens Crime Commission of New York City that globalization and technology had changed the nature of organized crime. International enterprises, he said, “are running multi-national, multi-billion dollar schemes from start to finish…. They may be former members of nation-state governments, security services, or the military…. These criminal enterprises are making billions of dollars from human trafficking, health care fraud, computer intrusions, and copyright infringement. They are cornering the market on natural gas, oil, and precious metals, and selling to the highest bidder…. These groups may infiltrate our businesses. They may provide logistical support to hostile foreign powers. They may try to manipulate those at the highest levels of government. Indeed, these so-called ‘iron triangles’ of organized criminals, corrupt government officials, and business leaders pose a significant national security threat.”

Congress addressed this threat in 2021 by including the Corporate Transparency Act in the National Defense Authorization Act. It undercut shell companies and money laundering by requiring the owners of any company that is not otherwise overseen by the federal government (by filing taxes, for example, or through close regulation) to file with FinCEN a report identifying (by name, birth date, address, and an identifying number) each person associated with the company who either owns 25% or more of it or exercised substantial control over it. The measure also increased penalties for money laundering and streamlined cooperation between banks and foreign law enforcement authorities. That act went into effect on January 1, 2024.

Meanwhile, the Biden administration made fighting corruption a centerpiece of its attempt to shore up democracy both at home and abroad. In June 2021, President Biden declared the fight against corruption a core U.S. national security interest. “Corruption threatens United States national security, economic equity, global anti-poverty and development efforts, and democracy itself,” he wrote. “But by effectively preventing and countering corruption and demonstrating the advantages of transparent and accountable governance, we can secure a critical advantage for the United States and other democracies.”

In March 2023 the Treasury told Congress that “[m]oney laundering perpetrated by the Government of the Russian Federation (GOR), Russian [state-owned enterprises], Russian organized crime, and Russian elites poses a significant threat to the national security of the United States and the integrity of the international financial system,” and it outlined the ways in which it had been trying to combat that corruption.

Now FinCEN has firmed up rules to add anti-money-laundering safeguards to private real estate and private investment. They will require certain industry professionals to report information to FinCEN about cash transfers of residential real estate to a legal entity or trust, transactions that “present a high illicit finance risk,” FinCEN wrote. “The rule will increase transparency, limit the ability of illicit actors to anonymously launder illicit proceeds through the American housing market, and bolster law enforcement investigative efforts.” The real estate rule will go into effect on December 1, 2025.

The rule about investment advisors will make the obligation to report suspicious financial activity apply to certain financial advisors. This rule will go into effect on January 1, 2026.

“The Treasury Department has been hard at work to disrupt attempts to use the United States to hide and launder ill-gotten gains,” Secretary of the Treasury Janet L. Yellen explained. “That includes by addressing our biggest regulatory deficiencies, including through these two new rules that close critical loopholes in the U.S. financial system that bad actors use to facilitate serious crimes like corruption, narcotrafficking, and fraud. These steps will make it harder for criminals to exploit our strong residential real estate and investment adviser sectors.”

“I applaud FinCEN’s commonsense efforts to prevent corrupt actors from using the American residential real estate and private investment sectors as safe havens for hiding dirty money,” Senator Sheldon Whitehouse (D-RI) said in a statement. “For too long, vulnerabilities in the system have attracted kleptocrats, cartels, and criminals looking to stow away their ill-gotten gains. I hope FinCEN will apply similar safeguards to commercial real estate, as well as due diligence requirements to investment advisors. These are all welcome steps toward keeping our country and financial system safe and secure for the American people—not those who wish to abuse it.”

The Commission on Security and Cooperation in Europe (also known as the Helsinki Commission) brought the history of modern money laundering full circle. It said: “We welcome the Treasury Department's decision to close off crucial pathways for Russian money laundering and sanctions evasion through real estate and private equity.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Roevember #billboard #Letters From An American #heather cox richardson #arlington cemetery #election 2024 #money laundering

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rexxdjarin · 1 year

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Captain's Log: Chapter 13

Renewal

Series Summary: The galaxy is in turmoil. The Republic has fallen, giving rise to the sinister reign of the totalitarian Empire, led by the insidious Emperor Palpatine. The millions of valiant clone troopers of the former Grand Army of the Republic are now blindly sworn, against their will, to protect a regime they once sought to destroy. After being saved from a terrible fate by his former-Jedi ally and close friend, Ahsoka Tano, seasoned veteran CT-7567 Clone Captain Rex remains loyal to the pillars of Democracy, freedom and truth that shaped the former Galactic Republic. We follow him now struggling to deal with the personal aftereffects of survival and finding his place in the galaxy alongside the only person he has left. You. The love of his life.

[previous] [next] part of Captain's Log series post on ao3 Pairing: Captain Rex x Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used) Word Count: 13.7k im sorry but also its worth it 😏 Series Rating: Explicit (18+ only, Minors DO NOT INTERACT) Chapter Summary: With most of the galaxy against them and the odds not on their side, Rex and his crew must decide how far they will go for family. Batchmates resurface and assign a new mission. Readers first symptoms begin and she finds herself in desperate need of relief. Chapter Warnings: 18+ EXPLICIT, P in V sex, fingering, mirror sex, dirty talk, squirting if ya squint ;), Mature Themes, Language, Political References, References to Canon Plot, References to Canon Deaths, Angst, Anguish.

Darkness. It could describe so much of my life right now besides just the atmosphere around our bunk room. Pitch black, not even a single ounce of light streaming in. Every part of the ship that was not life support or the hyperdrive navigation was powered down to conserve fuel, so even the cabin lights and switches weren’t dotting the walls like landing platform markers. After the meeting we had, life kinda felt like the ship–flying blind without a destination or a purpose to guide us forward.

I couldn’t say I’d ever felt this much doubt, even during the worst of the battles I fought in during the war.

What was it all for?

Freedom? For who? I’d never really felt true freedom–I don’t think any of us did save for maybe Cut. But even he had to hide from the Republic in order to live the life he wanted.

Trillions of credits were spent on the lives of every single brother I knew, but now suddenly repayment for our service was too high a cost.

Fighting in this war was the right thing to do, no question. The things the 501st and I achieved were among the greatest honors of my life. But now, after everything, the galaxy would always see me as more than a droid but less than a person.

What’s the point of fighting anymore?

I tossed and turned in bed, throwing my forearm over my face and groaning uncomfortably. She didn’t even stir beside me, her exhaustion a by-product of her first pregnancy symptom finally showing. Nausea and intense vertigo had kept her up and made her woozy for nearly the entire rest of the night. At this point, it was best to just let her sleep even though I couldn’t.

I rolled over, slowly easing myself out of her arms wrapped around my torso, and sat up on the edge of the bunk. I sighed, resting my forehead in my hands and trying to take deep breaths. I had to talk to my brothers about this. The decision from the Alliance. The mission for Cham. Everything.

We had gotten in too late to discuss anything, and her not feeling well meant we headed straight to bed after I’d told Wolffe to get us to Ryloth. Now was as good a time as ever to talk to them, without worrying her or stressing her out any more than necessary. Besides, she’d done enough fighting for us already.

I hoisted myself up, grabbed my body glove, and slipped it on. The uniform felt oddly comforting and reminiscent of a time when things still made sense to me. Our bunk door slid open and I tiptoed away quietly, heading up the rungs of the ladder to the cockpit where I knew Wolffe and Gregor would be completely awake just like I was.

I tapped on the cockpit door and entered, the two of them perking up immediately, probably eager to hear the news. However, the sight of me exhausted and almost defeated snuffed out any hint of their excitement. I plopped down in the passenger seat behind Gregor, avoiding their eyes.

Wolffe stood up from his spot in the pilot’s chair and scowled, “What happened, Rex?”

“Yeah, everything alright? You don’t look so good.” Gregor scooted forward, resting his hand on my forehead.

“The Alliance doesn’t want to help us. They think it's too much for them to tackle,” I sighed, watching the hope in Gregor’s face falter and the rage in Wolffe’s grow. “I don’t even want to tell you some of the things that were said.” I massaged my temples with the pads of my fingers as I tried to remove their words of disgust from my memory.

“Even with her and Bail speaking up for us?” Gregor inquired, sitting back and contemplating how things could’ve fallen off this quickly.

I thought about the fire in my beloved’s eyes as she had lambasted them with scolding words of moral righteousness, battling their every misguided fear with the soaring light of truth. She reminded me not of the senator she served under, but of my general–absolutely fearless in the face of certain death and loss. She stood unyielding where no one else dared. She spoke for me when others wouldn’t listen. She fought, kicked, and hit them where it hurt, just like he always did for me. “She gave it a hell of a fight. Wish you could’ve seen her up there. She was… incredible, but it didn’t matter.”

“So what? We don’t fucking need them. We’ll take care of our own, like we always have,” Wolffe spat, his disappointment usually presented as anger to hide his hurt. He had always been that way.

I glanced between my brothers, their own eyes now teaming with justified rage, and felt nothing but fear for both of them. They didn’t have to hear what even the galaxy’s best people thought of us, and I’d do everything in my power to make sure they wouldn’t for as long as I could. Because if good people couldn’t bring themselves to care, then what did we have left?

Maybe the time was approaching when it didn’t make sense to fight anymore. Maybe I was the only one who saw it. I felt guilty even thinking about it. It went against every principle I ever knew to give up, but that had become a possibility for the first time in my life.

“And where has that ever gotten us, Wolffe? Hurt, kidnapped, missing, killed… what’s the point? Of all of this? Aren’t you tired of only being what they used us for?” I asked quietly, trying desperately to hold back the anxious tears that had been brimming in my eyes since the start of that meeting.

Wolffe stopped, his anger breaking immediately, and he crouched down to my eye level. “Yeah, Rex. Always. Every day. Since the day I was put in this armor. Since the day they crushed my entire battalion and stuck me back out there the very next day. But you know what keeps me going? What gets me back out there every time? My brothers. My flesh and blood. If there’s still a chance we can help them, I want to try. The two of you helped me remember that.”

From the way his jaw twitched, I could tell he was still thinking about Fox, and maybe Cody as well.

“You risked your life to take me in, Rex. I wouldn’t be here without you,” Gregor said, offering up his canteen of water and patting my shoulder. “We may not be ready to take on the Empire, and I understand being tired of fighting, but I’m not going to give up on my brothers. We can still fight to try and save them, even if we have to do it alone.”

I sighed, closing my eyes and pressing the heels of my palms onto them. “I know, I know. You’re right. It’s just… hard not to let it get to you. Especially now after what I’ve heard. The whole galaxy thinks we were in on it. On all of it. It was… tough to just stand there and take.”

Wolffe grunted in annoyance, his disdain for politicians growing by the day. “And Bail? What did he say?”

“He was one of only three senators who voted to help us, along with Saw Gerrera and Cham Syndulla. Syndulla got us our next mission,” I mentioned, pointing to the navicomputer. It was blinking with the updated timing for our approach to Ryloth.

“Helping people who care is all we can do now. Let us make a difference where we can. We’ll find our own way,” Gregor reassured, reaching for the canteen in my hand and taking a few swigs of water for himself.

Wolffe resumed his seat, doing a quick systems check on the ship to keep his hands busy. “Ryloth, huh? Howzer was stationed there last I can recall. He picked up where Keeli left off.”

“Yeah. Guess my whole batch had to visit this planet once,” I remarked, fondly remembering my brother and eldest batchmate, Keeli, who died long before the galaxy changed. Howzer and I were probably the only two left of our batch now. “I lost contact with him a long time ago. What do you know about the situation there?”

“Well, I know he and his men were still stationed there. Though for the Empire, not the Republic. Things were just starting to get testy when I… when I got away,” Wolffe explained, scratching the growing beard on his jaw as he thought.

“Howzer and his boys must’ve rebelled and held the Empire off for a little while. Cham needs us to eliminate the rest of the special forces. He wants to hit them while they’re still down. We’ve got a small window in the next few rotations,” I explained, relaying the information Cham had given us when he approached us on Fest.

“And what’s in it for us?” Gregor inquired, sitting back in the co-pilot's chair and sighing. He looked tired–there were dark circles under his eyes and the familiar, cheerful light in them was noticeably absent. I wonder if he ever sleeps much anymore.

“Cham promised us supplies and weapons. Anything we need to start preparing for an uprising,” I replied, trying to mentally count the munitions we had in the hold downstairs. There wasn’t much that the pirates who owned this scrap heap left behind for us and our DC-17s weren’t going to cut it for the entire company’s worth of clones we planned on freeing.

“So, he’s committing to our freedom, huh?” Wolffe thought aloud, snorting to himself. “Guess he does live up to his name. Howzer must’ve done quite a bit to earn his trust. Cham was one of the Republic’s biggest headaches at times.”

“Howzer saved the Syndulla’s lives. He and his men are with them leading the fight against Imperial occupation now. Guess the Bad Batch helped him see reason. Cham’s fought his way back to the planet, and he wants us to help him eliminate the remnants of the Empire’s forces before they breach the city walls again.”

Gregor laughed, “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I am itching for a fight against those Imperial dogs.” He whipped the chair around and took over the controls just as the nav signaled our drop out of hyperspace. “Where we off to, Cap?”

“Head toward these coordinates. Cham’s palace is on the outskirts of the capital, Lessu. We’re supposed to meet him there.” I reached up to the console and tapped the coordinates in, giving my brothers a flight path.

“She agreed to this?” Wolffe asked gruffly, pointing casually at where she slept downstairs.

“Before he even had the chance to ask,” she interrupted, climbing up into the cockpit. I rose and pressed a kiss into her hair as she came to stand beside me. The same fire she had during her speech was still burning in her dark eyes.

Wolffe smirked and shook his head. “She’s dangerous, Rex’ika. Be careful, darling, I might have to steal you from him.”

“Over my dead body, you grump,” she laughed, punching him in the bicep and resting her head on my shoulder. “We better get him some female attention soon. He’s not used to not being fawned over.”

Wolffe began to groan in protest, but the incoming holomessage from Cham interrupted him.

“Captain, I am glad you managed to persuade your men to join our cause. I must say your brothers here were relieved to hear of your collective survival,” Cham said, his serious stare hardened and cold enough to intimidate even through a hologram.

“Hey, we’re happy to be here, too,” I joked, though Cham didn’t crack. He apparently wasn’t known for his humor. “This here is Gregor, ex-commando. And this is Wolffe, formerly of the 104th attack battalion.”

He bowed his head graciously and turned to my cyar’ika. “And how are you? My men have heard your speech. They are interested in meeting you, to thank you for speaking up for them. It has meant a great deal. Many have joined my cause because of you.”

She smiled, the blaze of justice igniting in her eyes. “Doing well, General. Thank you. Tell your men we’re on our way.”

Syndulla gestured to a few people out of frame and nodded in understanding. “Our landing bay is an open-mouthed cave entrance on the left side of the palace. You will not be followed there. We’ll see you soon.” Wolffe guided the ship down through the tall plateaus and rocky terrain of this part of the planet just as the hologram disappeared.

“So speaking of female company…” Gregor smirked, “Ryloth is known for its performative, grand welcomes. Think you could put in a good word for me, gorgeous?” he turned over his shoulder to ask her.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s been that long for you, hmm?” I laughed at her obvious annoyance and kissed her forehead as her arms wrapped around me.

“Far too long,” Gregor replied, “and never with a Twi’lek.” He winked, glaring at the both of us. “Besides… I think you two owe me.”

Wolffe laughed for the first time in weeks, “Yeah, I second that.”

I could practically feel her blushing. “I’ll see what I can do,” she hummed softly. The normalcy of this request reminded me of all the times she wing-manned the Torrent boys back home at 79s. That was nothing more than fond memories now.

The ship flew through the shade cast by clouds of past explosions covering the surface, and I gulped at the craters left on the planet's surface by battles weeks old. It must’ve been a rough evac if this much debris had been left behind.

I could feel her wincing beside me and I seated us both down gently into the passenger's seat behind Gregor. She probably hadn’t seen battlefields to the extent we had throughout the war. It was hard to look at even for guys like us who had seen hundreds of worlds like this. From the looks of it, it was only getting worse under the Empire.

My soldier’s resolve was strengthening in my soul all over again. Seeing worlds like this, absolutely destroyed by evil, and knowing that people needed help was a reminder that I couldn’t give up. My other reminder rested under my palm as I rubbed slow strokes on her warm lower belly. Even if I wanted to, even if things were getting worse, even if the galaxy gave up on all of us clones, I didn’t have it in me to quit, because our ad’ika deserved to grow up in a safe galaxy.

She looked up at me, her hand coming to rest over mine, nodding once like she could read my thoughts. That was why she agreed to the mission. She knew I needed to be reminded of how much I could help people. No matter what the Alliance said, I was more than a human weapon. We all were. We were finally free to choose to help the people who needed it. And damn it, that’s what we’re going to do.

The Syndulla’s landing bay looked miraculously untouched for a planet occupied by the Empire. Located on the far side of the palace, the cave entrance was hidden by the large craggy rock face of the mountain range–too well disguised for the class of Imperial officers who were unfamiliar with the planet to recognize.

As Wolffe prepared the ship for landing, we noted the massive number of likely stolen ships that took up most of the space in the hangar. They all seemed to be in various states of disrepair, but nothing a few well-trained clones like ourselves couldn’t fix.

“Wonder why they don’t just use these to fight the Empire off,” she said aloud, counting the number of ships from her place on my lap.

“They don’t have the men, I’d suspect,” Gregor responded as he began shutting the ship’s engines down. “None of these are single-man fighters. Even if Howzer managed to recruit a small group of his old battalion members, that’s still not enough to go head-to-head with Imperial fighter squadrons.”

“Yeah, they wouldn’t stand a chance unless they had about six troopers manning some of these guns,” Wolffe explained, settling the ship into the hangar and stretching as he stood up. “Though the Wolfpack probably could’ve done it with less.”

I snorted, my brother’s overconfidence clouding his judgment. “I think all those craters in the surface say otherwise. They were probably lucky to escape with their lives,” I remarked, remembering the numerous times we had caused similar damage in pursuit of victory against the Separatists. The similarities made me more uncomfortable the longer I thought about it.

She narrowed her eyes, nibbling on her bottom lip as the wheels spun in her head. “It’s a good thing Twi’leks largely live underground here. That’s a huge advantage. The Empire would have to rely solely on ground assaults to make any headway,” she declared, fishing through her bag on the floor for her datapad to make notes for future briefings.

Wolffe and Gregor whipped around, their brows raised in surprise at her suggestion. They exchanged glances, and she huffed softly. She folded her arms in annoyance, her shirt pulling and exposing the tiny bulge of her belly just beginning to show signs of the life within. She was cute when she was mad, and nothing irked her more than being underestimated. “What? I pay attention in strategy meetings. I know things.”

“Alright, Commander,” Wolffe teased, gathering his pack and slinging it over his shoulder. “We’ll talk to Syndulla and see what we’re working with. You might be onto something.” Instead of countering him with another playful insult, she smiled and nodded, probably equally surprised at his acceptance of her idea.

Gregor clapped his hands together and stepped out from behind his seat, “Well, let’s go! I’m in the mood to see what kind of welcome is in store for us. Think they’ve got any nuna here?”

“I think you’ll be lucky if you get more than a few ration sticks, Gregor,” I remarked, slinging my arm around her shoulder and kissing her temple as we followed them out of the cockpit. “You feeling better, mesh’la?”

She leaned into my side more than normal and gripped at the fabric of my blacks with need. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to pull me aside for something else. “I’m ok, baby. Still a little woozy. I just need some water and, honestly, anything warm to eat. Why’d you get up before me?” she whispered, pawing at my chest and blinking up at me. I could never hide a thing from that face.

“I couldn’t sleep. That business with the Alliance…” She hummed in regret as I trailed off, looking away from me as if it was her fault they said all those things. “Just needed a talk with the boys. The kind of thing only they’d understand.”

She stopped, fiddling with the hem of her shirt and running her palm along her bump. “I’m sorry you had to listen to that. I shouldn’t have made you come with me. That was too much.” I didn’t have to see her face to know she was upset by it, too. She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears off her cheeks before I saw.

Stepping in front of her, I grabbed both her hands and brought them to rest between us before tipping her chin up. “Hey… hey… none of that now. It’s alright. I know you don’t think like they do. That’s what matters.” The hurt in her eyes perfectly reflected how I felt inside–like she could feel the pain for me.

She balled her hands into fists then let them relax to curl her fingers into my sides, and I hugged her tight as she held onto me. “They’re wrong. You all deserved better than this. And I won’t stop reminding them of that. There’s always more I can do.”

I shook my head, shushing her quietly as I twirled a few strands of her hair around my finger. “You’re doing just fine, mesh’la. It means more to us than it ever will to anyone else. You heard what Cham said, you inspired other troopers to fight back. We may not have been able to reach the Alliance, but we are getting through to the ones who matter. Maybe now is the time we clones fight for ourselves.” I rested my chin on the top of her head, more to convince myself than her.

She pulled away, spreading her fingers on my chest and looking up at me fondly. “You know… if you keep giving speeches like that, you’re not going to need me to inspire them.” She leaned in and kissed me softly, one hand sliding up to rest on my flushed cheek. Her tongue slipped along my bottom lip and brushed delicately against mine. Though she tried to keep it brief, I could tell she wanted more as she broke away.

“If you’re looking for a reason why you survived when so many of your brothers did not… I think you’ve found it. You’re their leader. They’ll follow you anywhere. I know I will, too.” She gasped suddenly and her hands flew to her belly. “And someone else agrees,” she beamed, my hands reaching down to join hers to feel the tiny flutters of his kicks.

I knelt down in front of her, glancing up at her quickly for permission before pulling the bottom of her shirt up to speak directly to him. “Hey little bug, you think I can do it too, huh?”

I tried to imagine what it must be like to be so small but to experience life alongside both of your parents as you grow; to be along for the ride with them instead of growing alone and in silence in a sterile tube like my brothers and I had. While we would never know a bond like that, we had each other. Just like I would do anything for her and our little one, someone had to feel the same about my brothers and the birth of a new life they could have if we all just fought for it.

The little kicks under my palm solidified it. I would be the one who cared enough to free them. No matter the odds, no matter what it took. “Thanks for believing in your dad, Ad’ika. We got our family to save and we won’t let them down.” I smiled up at her, the real smile I only reserved for her, and rose again. “C’mon. We’ve gotta go, my love.”

After I’d changed into some civvies, we followed where Gregor and Wolffe had made their way down to the hold, her fingers laced reassuringly in mine. Syndulla would be out to greet us any second and hopefully reunite us with more of our renegade brothers.

I could only imagine what Howzer would say about meeting my pregnant girlfriend for the first time in the middle of a warzone. Though she’d be quick to point out that nothing would stop her from fighting alongside us.

Gregor and Wolffe waited by the open docking ramp, watching for signs of anyone coming to greet us. We pushed past them and made our way down into the hangar platform just as the blast doors opened up to reveal not Syndulla himself, but my little brother.

“Well if it ain't the quacta calling the stifling slimy…” Howzer folded his arms as his gaze bounced between us, halting just a few feet away.

Howzer’s armor needed a fresh coat of teal green paint, the chest plate and shoulder pauldrons more faded and cracked than he would ever allow under normal circumstances, but his signature hair was still perfect. While the rest of our batch and I had always shaved our hair down to nothing, Howzer had grown his out–somehow still managing to look the most put-together. He had always been the most creative of us, and even when we’d given him shit for it, he’d never allowed his armor to look dull or his hair to fall flat.

“Aren’t you supposed to be an Imperial now?” I joked darkly, mirroring his stance and narrowing my eyes.

Howzer scowled dramatically, pointing his finger at me and grumbling, “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” He carefully studied my face now, taking in the state of me alive and well after all reports had me as good as dead. Before I could reply, he leapt forward and embraced me tightly, the relief melting the tension away. He had always been my most sensitive kih’vod and never liked to feel alone, even before we left the blank white halls of Kamino.

I wrapped my arms around him and held tight, communicating all the unspoken pain of trauma and loss during this war in one embrace. “I’m happy to see you too, Vod. Wish it was under better circumstances.” I pulled back, resting my hand on his shoulder and shaking him loose.

“I didn’t want to believe the reports. They couldn’t have gotten you. I’m glad my gut feeling was right, but why all the secrecy?” he asked, turning to look over my shoulder at the crew just behind me. “And how’d you manage to spring Commander Grouch from the Citadel?”

Wolffe growled, “I freed myself, thank you very much. Those bucket-head new troopers were no match for me. I never even made it to my cell.”

Gregor giggled, amused by Wolffe’s constant insults of the men he’d been forced to train. “Bucket-heads… that’s a good one, Wolffe. To be clear, he saved us and decided to tag along. I’m Gregor, by the way. Special Ops.”

Howzer shrugged, impressed at what we had managed to accomplish while still making it out in one piece. “So you snagged yourself a Commando, too. It’s just like you, blondie, to bring people together like this. Guess that’s why the general felt you were the man for the job.”

“Guess so. That and I’ve got a hell of a motivator here.” I cocked my head in her direction, Howzer’s eyes noticeably widening as he sized her up. “She’s the one whose message your men heard.” I beckoned for her to join me and she stepped beside us, holding her hand out to Howzer.

“I just told the truth, no need to thank me for advocating for all clones the way the galaxy should’ve done a long time ago. It also helps when you’ve been in love with one for nearly 4 years.” Her smile widened, eyes softening with the gentle fondness I’d come to know from her all this time.

I tucked her into me and felt her grip tighten on my side again. Needy. Just as I thought, but no one else would have noticed. She stood tall and confident, the same way she did when she spoke to the Alliance. I couldn’t have been more proud to have her lead beside me and hoped all my brothers loved her the way I did.

Howzer studied her and the way she held me more intently, “Wait–so you’re his…?” He connected the dots in his head, his eyes wild with realization. “Damn, Rex. No wonder it’s been so long. You’ve been busy.”

“You have no idea,” Gregor and Wolffe chortled in unison as she turned around to argue with them playfully.

“Well, I can’t say I blame him. You’re stunning,” Howzer complimented bluntly, arching a brow at me and smirking. “Probably too good-looking for him, cyar’ika,” he added, taking her free hand again and pressing a polite kiss to her knuckles.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes and looking over his shoulder at the door he’d come out of. “Alright, alright. Let’s get inside and you can all take turns clowning me later.”

“Erm… right. Well, the General’s probably just finishing his strategy meeting with his resistance leaders. Normally the Twi’leks like to throw banquets for guests, but there aren’t enough rations for anything extravagant right now. They are still planning to have you all meet everyone. The boys and I managed to scrounge up some leftover ration biscuits, the little green ones,” Howzer explained as he started toward the door, the rest of us falling into step behind him.

Gregor groaned loudly, the sound of his grumbling belly was loud enough to keep us all up at night. “I could crush about 20 of them right now. I’m starving.” We’d been running low enough on supplies that snacking mid-day was no longer an option, especially since she had to eat for two.

“How about fresh nerf stew and we save the rations for when we really need them?” a pleasant, accented voice called out from just down the hall. As we stepped past the blast door frame, a tall, elegant, green Twi’lek woman revealed herself, peeking out of a large room several doors away. She glanced at each of us briefly, likely taking stock of how much she could spare for each of us. “Howzer, dear, bring our guests into the hall with Cham and the others. We will bring everything out to you.”

“Yes, Eleni. Right away.” Howzer saluted her formally. Clearly, he respected her as equal to the general, so she must’ve been his wife. “The squad’s probably anxious to see you, too.” He herded us to the door just ahead of the one she’d peeked out of, and we disappeared into another hallway just as we heard her calling out in Twi’leki.

“How have your men been holding up since everything happened, Brother?” I asked, letting the other three take the lead down the long stone hallway.

“Not well, I’m afraid. There were no Jedi stationed on Ryloth, luckily, but we heard the chatter all over every comm channel. At first, we followed the Empire without question. What was the difference, you know?” He sighed deeply and mournfully as he recalled the time before the Free Ryloth movement had been able to gather enough force to push the Empire back. “Then things changed. Things stopped making sense. The chain of command stopped listening to us clones, started demanding we do things…” Howzer closed his eyes, shuddering and taking a deep breath.

“Things you knew weren’t right,” I finished, following his story to the same conclusion as all the rest now. “You had to make a decision for your men and the people you protected all these years.” I slung my arm over his shoulder, reassuring him the best way I could.

“Yeah, Rex. I did what I had to. I laid my weapons down and disobeyed orders because they went against the people I swore to protect. The Bad Batchers were here, too, and they helped us figure out what to do. Especially one of your old boys, Echo.” Howzer smiled, stopping in his tracks and looking up through a skylight in the cave ceiling. “A lot of my men defected that day and we’ve never looked back.”

I watched my little brother feeling the light hit him, maybe for the very first time. Though he’d been aged and weathered by the brewing storm of the constant battle for justice, he’d made the right choice. He saved his men, he saved his people, and he saved himself. We were all good men deep down and no mandated order would ever change that.

“I’m proud of you, Howzer. You did what many of our brothers could not. You saw a better way. That’s why we’re here now. We can do the same thing again for so many of our brothers who just need to see the way out. The chips forced us to act, but they cannot change who we are. My squad is planning on rescuing more clones if we can, but we’re going to need as much help as we can get. After this mission, are you in?” I asked gently, knowing that pulling him away from his duty to his people was a tall ask.

Howzer closed his eyes and bowed his head, running his fingers through his dark hair. When he opened them again the fire of determination that I saw in myself had sparked for him too. “I thought you’d never ask.” He reached out his hand and clasped it with mine tightly to signal a deal well struck. “I’m beside you always. My men will be on board, too.”

“We have to talk about removing their chips. It might be a little difficult here since things are so remote,” I thought aloud, moving to scratch at the healed scar along my hairline. “It’s the safest thing to do to make sure we can never be compromised like that again.”

Howzer moved to flank me, inspecting where the chip had been removed from me and wincing as he imagined having to cut through his hair to do it. “Yeah, I expected that. I’ll talk to the general and see what we can do. He’s got to know of a medical station somewhere around here. Twi’leks are a little more holistic than the Republic–they use healing herbs and careful doses of spice at times.”

We picked up our pace toward the banquet room, Howzer explaining more about what his men had been experiencing since the order happened. Nasty, brutal things. Some of his men reacted the usual way with blind fits of anger and lashing out at anyone not loyal to the Empire. Others experienced debilitating migraines or seizures from fighting so hard against the inhibitor chip to keep their consciousness. A few had even died, their brains having huge aneurysms from the overload of information the chip was programming into their minds.

I remembered not liking how it felt to have my mind taken over, but Ahsoka knocking me out and intervening likely saved me from enduring any of the after-effects that lots of clones seemed to be experiencing. Microdoses of spice and proper rest in a hangar locked away from Twi’leks or other brothers had allowed the more severe cases to run their course until the worst of it had died down.

Howzer didn’t know exactly why he had never suffered quite as intensely as the rest of his men, but the best he could figure is that older clones seemed to have stronger willpower to resist their chip’s effects. However, full removal remained the only surefire guarantee that the nightmare would end.

Upon our entry to the banquet hall, we found the entirety of Cham’s protected population sitting in a large circle along the walls of a massive vaulted cavern held up by stone pillars. Some of Howzer’s men mingled among the Twi’leks while others huddled in sequestered groups, but I could feel their curious eyes on us.

In the middle of the crowd, a group of Twi’lek men and women of every skin color imaginable performed an elaborate, lithe dance set to the thrumming rhythm of echoing steel drums. Not far from us, Cham sat with two of his advisors and a green Twi’lek child in a small alcove adorned with knit patterned tapestries and hand-painted drawings in bright pigments.

“Captain, welcome!” Cham called from his seat, beckoning our group forward. He raised his hands as he stood, and the dancing and drumming ceased. “My people! Tonight we welcome our new guests. They have come to help us retake our planet with their brothers. With their assistance, Ryloth will be free once again!”

The crowd erupted into cheers for a moment before the drums and dancing started up again, and somewhere in the chaos, my beloved was stolen away by Cham’s wife. Normally, I’d have been anxious to be parted from her, but the smile she tossed at me over her shoulder as she disappeared into the crowd put me at ease. Howzer and I took two of the remaining seat cushions beside Cham, while Gregor and Wolffe sat just behind us, cross-legged on plushy floor cushions.

No sooner had we sat down than we were served the nerf stew we had been promised. Gregor sipped his portion down as if he hadn’t eaten in a week, but Wolffe’s mismatched eyes were fixed on the twists and turns of the women performing. If I followed his gaze, I could guess that the lovely red-skinned Twi’lek woman making eyes in his direction had caught his attention. Their behavior felt more normal than either of them had been in a long time, and I smiled to myself as they both seemed to enjoy the celebration.

“This was more welcome than we needed, General. You didn’t have to do all this,” I explained humbly, taking a cup of some kind of juice from a blue Twi’lek woman adorned in knit fabric far too revealing to be practical.

“Nonsense. You are guests, and it is customary for us to greet you in this way. It brings my people joy to celebrate what makes us special during times of strife.” Cham closed his eyes solemnly and massaged his temple with his right hand.

I glanced around the hall at the tired faces somehow able to find happiness to lend to others, even if only briefly. It was inspiring that their resolve hadn’t been broken, even through insurmountable odds. They truly were proud, determined people, and fighting alongside them would be incredibly rewarding if we managed to make any headway. I could see why Howzer was so hellbent on refusing to hurt the culture that had so graciously accepted him as one of their own.

Still, it was hard for me to relax knowing what we needed to accomplish. I was used to diligent planning and hours-long strategy meetings to prepare for missions of this magnitude. I could feel my mind racing with battle maneuvers and military strategy as the rest of the crowd enjoyed themselves.

Gregor and Wolffe were talking amongst themselves, glancing every so often at a group of women who were making eye contact and giggling whenever the two clones looked their way. That same red Twi’lek that had been dancing was among them now, and she kept shooting cheeky grins at them. They had been surrounded by clones for years, but recent bias must’ve made the two brothers look irresistible. I rolled my eyes playfully, knowing where that was probably going, and trying to distract myself from thinking about what I wanted to do to my mesh’la if I was ever able to locate her.

I shook the enticing image of her wearing some of the clothes the performers had on from my mind and turned toward Cham again. “General, when will we meet to strategize with your leaders? I have some ideas and–”

“Rex… relax. We have arranged a strategy meeting for tomorrow morning. We can talk about battle then. For now, enjoy a moment’s respite. Your partner understands…” he laughed, motioning at the same group of women who had been drooling over my brothers and suddenly finding her at the center of them.

I didn’t know if it was the aura from the cavern's skylights or the reflection of candlelight glittering off jewels hanging from the walls, but I was overcome by the sight of her glowing and laughing among them. Seeing her enjoying herself as the party wore on made my battle-anxious mind relax. To me, she was the most beautiful person here, and I smiled softly to myself as she finally made eye contact with me.

Her smile was soft and reverent, making her look every bit as stoic, classy, and put-together as she always carried herself among colleagues. Yet, I recognized the fire and lust simmering in the depth of her gaze.

She’d been overly needy all day, pawing and pulling at me at every chance she got, and something about the way she looked at me signaled that she was feeling a deep, magnetic desire. Her libido had always been powerful since the very first day I met her, but this look was something entirely different–maddeningly desperate and practically begging for me to whisk her away to have my way with her. It was all but confirmed as her eyes darkened and her tongue slipped out to wet her lips.

My own lust prickled down my spine and settled in my core, exacerbated by the floating aroma of incense and spice hanging thickly in the air. It took everything in me not to leap from my position and drag her to a quiet, dark corner of the palace. Before I could move an inch, she got lost in the circle of Twi’lek girls again, and I choked down my fantasies until I could get her alone.

I turned to the little girl seated beside Cham and asked for a small bowl of stew to be passed my way. She smiled earnestly and brought it over to me quickly, including another cup of the tart juice they all seemed to enjoy.

“If you’re a Captain… does that mean you used to fly in big starships?” she asked eagerly, her little green head-tails twirling together in excitement.

She reminded me of another bright-eyed, inquisitive young girl who never stopped asking me questions. Though the memories of a small, orange Jedi padawan bursting with excitement and eagerness for battle experience seemed so long ago.

“Yeah, kid. I flew on Venators and Acclamators lots of times. They’re not as fun as personal starships, though. I was never really that great of a pilot,” I shrugged, laughing to myself as I remembered all the times General Skywalker pointed out ways I could improve my starfighter piloting skills. I had gently reminded him that some of us had spent a lot less time being ten years old than he had.

“Well, I’m going to be one someday. Howzer says I’m already pretty good, but I’ll be the best in the galaxy,” she rambled excitedly, pulling a pair of haphazardly constructed flight goggles from the pocket of her leather jacket.

“Hera, come. Leave the men in peace, your mother wants you in bed soon,” Cham ordered, apologizing silently as he whisked her away behind him. “Apologies. She’s still learning.”

“That’s alright. I’ve got a lot to learn too,” I replied, the second part muttered more to myself than anyone else. Cham stared at me quizzically as he tried to figure out what I meant when we were interrupted by a group of women approaching our alcove. Slowly, they parted and my bold cyar’ika guided three of them toward where Gregor and Wolffe sat, eyes glued to the girls instead of the performance.

“Boys, this is Noola, Ryloo, and Zeeta. Ladies, this is Wolffe and Gregor. You won’t find better men to keep you company. You can take my word for it.” She turned and winked at me suggestively, Cham looking at me and chuckling to himself. I felt my face get hot with embarrassment and I took a sip of my drink to calm my nerves.

The three women parted from the group and approached my brothers. Zeeta, the red Twi’lek whose bright green eyes had been on us all night, made her way over to Wolffe. She began running her fingers along his shoulder pauldron and whispering something in his ear that made his brows raise instantly. His hand shot out to grab her by the waist and pull her down on his thigh. They took turns exchanging words, and his hand settled at the exposed small of her back.

At the same time, the other two women–Noola, who was bright purple, and Ryloo, a soft green–joined Gregor on either side, kneeling beside him and curling their arms around his biceps. Gregor lit up like a supernova, his irresistible charm instantly pulling the girls into him like a magnet. They listened to him talk and giggled in unison at all his jokes, genuinely finding him as delightful as he claimed women always did.

My attention was turned toward my partner who had reached her hand down to pull me up to my feet. “See? I told them I’d work something out. They should be well taken care of until morning.”

Pulling her close, I ran my palm up her back, pressing her into me to both feel her and to possessively let the whole group know who I was with. I leaned down to whisper teasingly in her ear, “Does that mine I get you all to myself tonight?” Had we not been in such a public setting, I would’ve laved my tongue and lips along her neck, but that would have to be for later. “Can I take you away now?”

She moaned more than sighed, the lust overwhelming her and making her tremble in my grasp. “Please.” She rested both hands on my chest and stole a glance at my lips like she wanted to be consumed by the need building between us. “Please, Rex. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

—

The guest quarters in Cham Syndulla’s family palace were nicer than anything I’d ever stayed in. The old sandstone structure was built to blend with a large network of massive caverns on Ryloth’s naturally rocky terrain. Cham was kind enough to give Rex and me the larger of the three rooms, while both Gregor and Wolffe seemed more than content with whatever room could accommodate their new company for tonight.

It was like a private villa. Our own living space with jewel-toned chaise lounges and a carved marble table that was etched with a retelling of Ryloth’s thousand-year history. Normally a large banquet-style feast would be held on a table like this, but given the circumstances, there wasn’t nearly enough food to constitute a feast. Nonetheless, Cham’s wife, Eleni, had been kind enough to bake fresh bread and leave a few pieces of fruit beside it on the center of the table.

It was customary for Twi’leks from Ryloth to give to their visitors as a friendly extension of their hospitality, but Eleni seemed to be offering this out of more than just custom. She had watched my movements the entire night, taking notice of the way I avoided any of the alcoholic refreshments at the celebration, and kept a firm, almost needy hold on Rex as we were welcomed into a strange place.

When Rex and I entered the bathroom off of the guest bedroom, I knew that Eleni had figured it out. On the shelves and counters of the natural hot spring bathroom were dozens of soothing oils, medicinal herbs, and healing serums specifically for expectant mothers. I turned to Rex in shock, in enough disbelief that he thought I may have been accusing him of spilling our secret.

He shook his head and chuckled, “I promise, I haven’t said a thing to her. Seems like she just knows. Mother’s intuition maybe. You know she and Cham have little ones,” he reassured me, his warm hand on my lower back instantly soothing a particular spot that had been bothering me now for a few days. I closed my eyes and sighed at the contact, Rex moving to massage the spot a little more. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my already burning arousal ignite even more.

The last few days had seen the hormone levels in my body skyrocket out of control, which I knew would hit me eventually. Sometimes this resulted in anger or irritability that I had to do my best to tamp down around the guys. Other times it resulted in what I felt now–pure, unfiltered, and unbearable lust. Even just watching Rex’s broad shoulders rise and fall as he breathed would set me off now. The pool of heat that collected at my center would pound and throb until something was done to quell the desire; a side effect that Rex was more than enjoying.

In this moment, the muggy steam of the hot spring combined with Rex’s touch on my body made my toes curl. I felt my nipples bud and the space between my thighs dampen with an overwhelming need for him. I took in a deep breath, opening my eyes to let out a slow sigh, one with enough allure to get his attention. “Rex.” I whispered, turning my face to look up at him desperately. What started as an innocent reassuring of his presence had suddenly become so much more than that.

Rex perked up, his sly smirk curling his pretty, plush lips at the corners and his brow arching with intrigue. “Did I do something, mesh’la?” He asked, pretending he was blissfully unaware of my body’s reaction to him. “Because I know that sound… and I know what usually comes with it,” he teased, his arm slowly circling my side to pull him into me.

“You...” I gulped, his body heat beginning to join the long list of sensations I was feeling taking over me. “You did and are doing something to me. Did you seal the door to our bedroom?” I asked with shaky breaths as his familiar musky, woodsy, lived-in scent began to flood around me.

He chuckled deeply, and I felt the vibration heavily in my chest that was just painfully aching for touch. “Yes, I did. Not that, that was going to stop us, right?” he muttered, flicking off the lights and letting the skylight in the cavern ceiling illuminate the space now.

“Nothing is going to stop me right now,” I admitted through gritted teeth. I rested my hands on the counter and looked up at my reflection in the mirror, a dark shade of lust overtaking me as I watched Rex butt himself up behind me. He slotted his chin into the space just below my jaw, both his arms now wrapping around my waist.

He peppered small, intimate kisses on my skin, now coated in a sheen of humidity and sweat, and emitted a determined, raspy groan, “Sounds like a challenge, pretty girl. Think I can help?”

Suddenly, he licked a long stripe up the corded vein in my neck and I gasped, my blood pulsing faster as my heart raced with anticipation, overheating me with desire.

“Talk to me, cyar’ika. Need me to make you feel good?” Rex asked against the shell of my ear, beginning to work at the clothes keeping my bare skin from his.

“Please, gods yes, Rex. It’s unbearable… I feel like I’m on fire. Everywhere,” I whimpered, meeting his nimble fingers at the hem and helping him pull off my top in one gesture. My chest erupted from it, swollen breasts and pebbled nipples reacting dramatically to the change in temperature.

Rex let out a satisfied grunt, making eye contact with me in the mirror as his calloused hands moved to cup them. He kneaded them carefully, kissing my jaw and pressing them together to make me writhe at the contact.

“There… that a little better? You are fucking perfect… tits getting so big. You’re spoiling me. Just look at how pretty you are. Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more fucking beautiful… you just had to go and take hold of some of me,” he whimpered playfully, watching my eyes hood closed as he rolled one nipple between his fingers and spread his other hand over the growing swell of my bump.

“Yes… that’s good–oh fuck, Rex…” I mewled, melting into his touch as he caressed any part of my torso he could get his hands on. “Everything about you right now is driving me crazy.” I moved my hands to grip his arm, trying to spur him into going a little lower where the unrelenting pounding was taking root.

“Tell you what… how about I get all this off, we both get in that hot spring tub and I touch wherever you need me to. Sound good, my love?” he offered, his hands slipping past the waistband of my bottoms to begin tugging them down my thighs. He paused as he leaned down to help me step out of my pants and turned me to take one of my breasts in his calloused hand, his tongue flicking over the nipple and making me whine at the contact.

“Rex! Strip and get me in that spring before I faint. I’m–ah!–so sensitive right now… everything you’re doing feels so good it hurts,” I explained, my hand flying up to support the back of his head and tugging at his blonde curls gently. I smiled happily at the rush of pleasure racing to my core. With my pants and underwear around my ankles, he released my breast with a lewd pop and used this momentary break to step back and glance over me.

“Fuck–bend over,” he ordered, pulling his shirt off his back and tossing it into the pile of clothes on the floor.

I obliged, leaning onto the counter and pressing my enlarged breasts into the cool stone.. I shivered as his hands softly traced down the dips in my back, pulling both sides of my ass apart to get a good look at my center. He chuffed softly, running a fingertip up my inner thigh.

“You’re so wet it’s dripping down your thighs, mesh’la.” He collected it on his digits and popped a finger into his mouth, groaning in delight as he stepped out of his pants. “Get in there before I take you right fucking here,” he instructed with a playful slap to my right cheek.

I spun around to give him a once over and bit my lip at the sight of his growing length. “You know that’s why I’m like this… you’re sexy,” I giggled, my gaze flicking down to the part of him I knew better than anyone and smirking teasingly.

Rex shook his head and stepped forward, resting his hands on my hip bones as he walked us both over to the steaming hot pool. “And that mouth of yours is why I’m like this.” He laughed, lifting me up and helping me step in. The water wasn’t much of a relief, the simmering warmth wrapping around my already overheated body as I settled down in it.

Steam plumed upwards off the glimmering pool's surface, now broken as it swirled around my every curve. I sat back, dunking my shoulders under the warmth and relishing in the sensation of water rippling around me.

Rex followed behind, his large biceps caging me in as he dragged my body back into his broad chest. I tipped my head back to rest on his shoulder, grabbing his forearm curling around me protectively. His body brushing against mine in any facet was making me tremble with an excitement I hadn’t felt since the first time we slept together.

He reached up to hold my chin in his fingers, leaning over to press our lips together and roll his tongue along mine slowly. Every gasping inhale was like breathing in pure arousal, making me moan in his mouth as it dissolved into pleasure spreading throughout my body. I broke the kiss, my jaw slack and my chest heaving as more heat rolled down to drip into my core. He buried his face in the space behind my ear, brushing my hair aside and speaking filth in deep whispers. “Where do you need me, ner mesh’la? I’m here for you.”

“Everywhere. Anywhere. Just want to feel you on me. Know you’re there,” I gasped, feeling his laugh behind my back as he relished in my desperation for him. He ghosted his knuckles over my cheekbone affectionately to remind me what this was all for before he eased his palms down my shoulders.

“Always here. For both of you. I promise,” he muttered, his hands coming to rest on my belly. “You’re so fucking strong,” he breathed, bumping my jaw with his nose, kissing along my pulse point, and letting his touch travel back up to my breasts. “So resilient, bold, smart… carrying my little one and looking so beautiful. I am the luckiest man alive, and I am proud to call you mine.” He paused between words to suck at the soft skin on my neck, hard enough to break blood vessels and distract me from the tension in my core.

He wasn’t doing anything to break the tension, but his words were slowing the rhythm, allowing me to focus on something else besides the overwhelming need tearing my body apart. I blushed as if his words were more intimate and exposing than being laid bare before him. “Is this supposed to make me want to fuck you less? Because you’re not accomplishing that very well with flattery.”

“If you’re feeling sane enough to be bratty, then I’d say it’s working.” He nipped my collarbone softly, making me jump and slap his arm playfully. “Smart mouth. Let me catch up to you and then we’ll see how much you feel like talking.” His cock twitched against my back, his love of being in charge was always the fastest way to turn him on. I moved to rest my head on his shoulder, letting him look into my eyes as he touched me.

His firm grip on my breasts made my breath hitch in my chest, his devilish smirk and fire igniting in his doting gaze signaled that he knew exactly what he was doing trying to light me up again, but slowly this time. “I want to fuck these so bad… you’re a dream for a boobs guy like me, you know? Gonna let me do that someday soon, pretty girl?” He flicked my nipple with his index finger, the bud pebbling up and making static erupt beneath his touch.

I swallowed hard, my hips bucking in response and my backside rubbing against his cock gently. “Fuck–mmmmm… mhmm. Can do whatever you want to me. You know that,” I groaned in frustration, wishing he would sink himself as deep inside me as I craved. The water encircling us both rippled and swirled around with our every movement, the blistering heat adding just another layer of pleasure to my already overwhelmed body.

“I do,” He muttered softly. “I’ve got a whole list of things I know you like. Using binders, riding my cock, being edged… oh, you love that, don't you?” His listing every profane memory we had together was making the pressure in my core throb even more, and he knew it. The longer he worked me up, the better and more satisfying the result would be later on. Rex was more than a pro at this by now.

“Aren’t those all things you like?” I shot back, reaching to grip his muscular sides and dig my nails into his flesh. I could feel his heart beating into my back, racing to keep up with the desire rushing through his veins.

He dipped down, his lips pressed to my collarbone softly trailing along the length of it carefully while his fingers pulled and tugged at both nipples. “‘Course. Especially with you,” he smirked against my skin. “Now are you going to tell me what you need? What feels good?” he whispered, his stubble tickling me as his jaw worked to place kisses following his every word.

I huffed impatiently, whimpering as he slid out from behind me, warm water swirling in to take his place. “Rex… you know what I want. You know where I need you.” I inhaled sharply as he interrupted my complaints with his lips wrapped around my nipple, his tongue swirling across the node. He hummed in a mix of pleasure and amusement, his expertise when it came to me enough to make him a little bit cocky.

“I know, mesh’la. But now you’ve got me all riled up, too, and you look far too pretty like this for me to give in this easily.” He looked up, guiding himself back up my body and tipping my chin up between his fingers. “I want to run my fingers through you, taste you, and fuck that pretty pussy until that ache goes away. I’ll do anything for my perfect girl.”

I couldn’t contain the wide smile that spread across my face. “I love you.” I leaned in to capture his lips with mine, passionately entwining us as the pressure became too much for me not to act on. I rocked into him and he sat back again, spreading my legs as I eased onto the width of his thigh.

His gaze trailed up my body, watching the delight on my face as I began chasing my pleasure by grinding against him. He huffed softly, his palm resting on the small of my back to maneuver me gently. “Feels good, huh?” His opposite hand smoothed up the curve of my side and messaged my breast. “You look so beautiful. Even when you’re being such a fucking tease.”

I smiled, both as a playfully bold response to his words and because the slowly building friction on my clit was finally starting to slightly soothe the ache. I glanced down at where his cock throbbed against my thigh, and I wrapped my hand lightly around him. “Oh please, you clearly love being teased, Captain.”

He hissed softly, his fingertips tracing up my spine as he tucked me further into his torso. “Then tease, mesh’la. Overwhelm me,” he whispered seductively, following it with a throaty moan that made my head spin.

The sticky skin-to-skin contact had us both entranced in the simmering tension. When I moved my hips against his thigh, I brushed his cock gently. Every movement from one affected the other until we were so wound tight with pleasure teetering on the edge between us that we couldn’t take it anymore.

Rex’s kisses slid hot and wet against my steam-covered skin and every buck of my hips sent him slipping over to some untouched part of me. Pleasure pricked every exposed inch of my skin, and his soft moans and words of encouragement spurred things faster. All we did was rub, touch, and writhe until both of us were whipped into a tantalizing frenzy. His weighted palms traveled up my back, into my hair, down my sides, and on top of my thighs, and I gripped his biceps to hold myself steady against him.

I was far too impatient to keep up this pace with the powerful rush of imbalanced hormones fueling me, so I dug into his shoulder and relaxed into his lap, easing over to center myself on top of him. “Take me, Rex. Now… right now,” I begged, resting my hands on either side of his face and forcing his eyes up to meet mine.

A filthy, devilish smirk split his lips and we were in the air in one swift motion. He supported me in one hand and splashed us out of the hot spring. Making his way over to a tall mirrored wall, he reached over to the counter and grabbed one of the natural oils that had been left for us to use. He set me on my feet in front of my reflection and laid a few towels below to cushion us before sitting down. “C’mere mesh’la.”

I followed, seating myself between his thighs and tipping my head back to watch his beautiful eyes. With one hand he screwed the top off the slightly spicy-scented oil and tipped it into his palm. He guided his other hand to gently wrap around my neck and swallowed my whispered moan of his name in a kiss.

My reflection in the mirror was a sight; my hair was a tousled mess from where he’d gripped it earlier, my eyes blown out with maddening lust so powerful it made my vision blurry, and my lips swollen from passionate kisses. His deep, mesmerizing brown gaze was fixed on me in the mirror, and my naked, dripping body was now shining in oil and covered in slight purple bruises–ones he always smoothed over with a roll of his tongue.

“Look at me. I want you to watch what I do to you.” One of his oil-covered hands turned my face to look into the mirror while the other traveled down my belly, over my hip, and turned inward as he grazed my thigh. “Do you like being so filthy for me?” he groaned softly in my ear as I writhed in his slippery grip, cocking an eyebrow and prompting me for an answer.

I dipped my head down and suckled his thumb into my mouth, not caring about the slick sensation of the tasteless oil on my tongue. I felt him shudder behind me as he watched the plush of my lips encircle his thick digit, but before I had a chance to tease him with my tongue, he pried my mouth open and held me there.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’”

“Mhmm. I love to watch you work me up, to feel your hands on me and your cock ready for me, Captain. You can’t resist me when I’m bold,” I giggled, and he rewarded my response with another laving warm pass of his tongue in the space beneath my ear. “I want your fingers,” I whined as his hands pushed my thighs apart painfully slowly.

“I know you do. I can feel how much you want me, mesh’la. You impatient little minx… you want my fingers in the heat of your gorgeous pussy,” he muttered, his index finger tracing the most deliberate and agonizingly slow circle on my clit. I tipped my head back as a moan ripped through me, my breasts rising and falling as I tried to catch my breath to keep up with his pace. “Fuuuck… you’re wet.” A wry, suggestive smirk reached his eyes, smoldering with passion while he watched my hypersensitive body react.

“It’s torture. B-but it feels… feels so good. More, baby. More. Want you inside. Rex, I want–” A truly indecent thought came to mind as my hormone-fueled lust overtook my sanity. I brought my knees higher, angling my center for a perfect view in the mirror and watching myself unfold illicitly. Rex’s cock throbbed into my back at the sight of me presenting myself so willingly and obscenely for his taking. He whimpered quietly, his mind probably running three steps ahead in his fantasy, knowing he’d be the only one to ever see me this way.

“What do you want, my pretty girl? Hmm? What can I do to make you mine all over again?” he asked with renewed desperation. Even he was beginning to lose self-control in this compromised position.

“Hold me open. Make me watch myself come on your fingers, Rex, please,” I begged, my hole contracting involuntarily as my arousal took on a life of its own. I watched his eyes roll back in delight, his circling touch on my clit inching ever closer to my aching core. “Now. Please!” I begged again, curling my fingers around his wrist settled between my legs.

“Oh, fuck–mesh’la… like this?” His lips latched onto my neck, his eyes glued to where he let his thumb and middle finger hold my slick folds open.

My breathing stuttered as a rush of cool air blew chills through my heat and made my entrance flex. More slick dripped down to glisten in my slit, making Rex let out an audible and sinful moan.

“Look at you… look how much your pretty pussy needs it. You need my cock so fucking bad.”

I could do nothing but hold onto his wrist with one hand and hold myself upright in position with the other. Rex’s fingertips rubbed through the wetness coating me from his drawn-out torture, and the two thickest digits on his opposite hand slipped through my soaked opening with ease. I cried out, a high-pitched, melodic whine filling the cavernous refresher room, and it made Rex emit a low grunt to harmonize with mine beautifully. “Rex, oh yes… that’s it.”

“Yeah? Does that help, ner mesh’la? You’re wound tight, but you’re doing so well for me.” He gently pressed his fingers within me to the knuckle and flexed them against my wet, collapsing walls. With his chest pressed against my back and biceps wrapped around me, he trapped me in the perfect comfort of his grasp. Slowly, he hooked his ankles over mine, holding my legs in place to prevent me from squirming while he worked my insides into a frenzy.

I could barely form words as the molten heat inside me boiled over into his hands. Each curl of his fingertips into the plush of my core made desire sear hotter in my lower belly, and the recoil was so strong it made me arch my back and buck my hips into him for more. I bit my lip to hold back screams that would only carry the sound of his name into the echoing cavern. “Rex, yes. Yes, that helps. F-fuck it's so good, baby. Deeper. Mmmf, you’re so… so good with your hands.”

A cocky smirk drew against my jaw as he padded up against the front of my walls, and I let out a strangled yelp. “I know,” he cooed, nuzzling my cheek with the bridge of his nose to urge me to keep my eyes on the mirror. “Watch, mesh’la. Gonna make you cum just like this. Then I’ll let you lick it off my fingers while I take you apart with my cock. How’s that sound?”

He slid his fingers out painfully slowly, the wet shlicking sound making him groan. A thin trail of my wetness connected me to the space between his fingers. His hot exhales fanned my cheek as he rested his temple against mine, leaning in every so often to dot sloppy kisses along my sweat-slick skin.

“Yes, Rex. That’s p-perfect. Exactly what I need. You always know. Know me so well, my love.”

I reached behind to dig my fingers into his lengthening blonde curls, leaning him into a weighted, desperate kiss. Saliva slid sticky and sweet between our twisting tongues, and I moaned into his mouth as he curled two fingers back inside me. He relentlessly pressed up on that delightfully sensitive spongy spot at the shallow front of my walls and flicked at my clit with the pad of his thumb. I broke the kiss to inhale sharply, gazing back at my reflection in the mirror while the squelching sounds of him finger fucking me got louder and more obscene.

He sucked at the juncture of my neck and jaw and swore incoherently as I began to spasm around him. “You’re so close. Can feel it, almost there. Little more. You can do it. Cum for me… all over me. C’mon, ner mesh’la,” he encouraged, maneuvering his wrist faster and increasing the unbearable pressure to a level I could no longer take.

“Rex! I’m gonna–REX!” Heat drained down my body and released at my core, the ensnaring warmth having nowhere to go but out as my walls collapsed around his thick fingers.

“There you go… oh, yes, fuck–look at that. That’s my good girl,” he rasped, his palm, wrist, and forearm drenched in my release. I trembled as the pleasure burst through me, desperate high-pitched moans swallowed by his all-consuming kisses. The pleasure was like an endless wave rolling through me, taking its time ripping through the agonizing carnal desire that had been plaguing me all day.

Rex’s powerful legs against mine held me open as I watched my opening ripple obscenely. He whispered tender words of adoration as the tension wracking my frame finally started to recede. “My girl… so gorgeous when she cums for me. Let it all out just for me. I know how to make you feel so good, don’t I? Is that what my love does to you? Made this pretty little pussy all mine already.”

I panted and muttered soft agreements, letting my body collapse back into his and feeling his arms wrap protectively around me. “How… did you do… that?” I gasped, giggling as he kissed tears of ecstasy off my cheeks. My fingers laced with his on my belly, and I rubbed up against his cock, wet precum definitely smearing along the small of my back.

“I’m good with my hands, remember?” he teased, walking his fingers up my torso until they were enticingly dangling in front of my lips.

I tipped my head back on his shoulder and laughed as I tried to catch my breath. My eyes followed his gaze in the mirror, seductively admiring the sight of me naked, sweaty, and writhing against him.

“Now clean up this mess you made before I split you apart this time.” He offered his fingers, brushing them against my lower lip and coating it with my own slick.

I swirled my tongue around his middle digit and suckled it inside the wet cavern of my mouth. I swallowed the sweet tang of my release and wrapped my lips around him tightly, mimicking what I’d do to his cock if it wasn’t inconveniently positioned behind me. He was way too far gone already to last that kind of torture by now anyways. I could feel him slotted between my cheeks, pounding and anxiously waiting for his turn to feel bliss.

Slowly, I sat forward, lifting my hips and teasing him with either side of my ass. He grunted, tipping his head down to watch himself slide slickly between me. I popped off his fingers lewdly and his hand immediately captured my hip bone, starting to maneuver my center to his liking. “Want me to ride you, Captain? Just like this? Now that I’m all soaked and ready for your cock?” I teased devilishly, dragging my nails up his thighs and grinning wickedly at him in the mirror.

“Oh yeah, I do. Mesh’la, I want to fuck you so bad and watch you bounce on me… so fucking hot,” Rex rasped, his gravelly tone dropping harshly as his lust overtook him. Deep moans spread through his chest as his hands explored what he could only see through our reflections. He pressed my tits together roughly, kneading them in both his strong hands as I twisted my bottom half against his rock-hard cock.

“You want this pussy, Captain?” I mocked, lifting my hips up just enough to slide his cock between my drenched lips explicitly. He moaned my name in confirmation and his hands gripped at the plush of my hips to move me faster. “Then come and take what’s already yours, Rex,” I offered, slowing my rolling hips as his tip neared my entrance. “Show me why you own me.”

In seconds, Rex thrust himself inside, pushing my swollen walls apart again with a loud shout. I threw my head back and my jaw dropped, the width of his throbbing cock beating against the aching knot in my core with deliciously painful satisfaction. He could reach exactly where the burning desire took root every single time, without fail. I flailed wildly for something to hold onto and found purchase again on the tops of his muscular thighs. We sat pressed together for what felt like forever, neither one of us strong enough to begin any semblance of a rhythm when being sealed together so tightly already felt this good.

Rex rolled his hips up first, his cock bottoming out easily inside the space that was quickly becoming too small to contain him. Every bump of his tip against my deepest spot made me squeal in pleasure. He snickered tauntingly, knowing full well how easy it was for him to bring me to another high just by pressing himself into me this deeply. “That’s the spot, mesh’la, I know it is. Just fucked you apart once and you’re still so fucking tight. You needed my cock. Is that it? I can reach where no one else can. That’s why you’re all mine.”

“Yes, Rex. You’re right there, right where I want you. Where it hurts. Where I need you to fuck until it feels better. Please,” I begged, lifting my hips and rotating them as I started grinding down on him desperately. “Your cock… it's all I ever want. Rex!” I could feel his fingers starting to circle my clit again, still sensitive from being played with so mercilessly once already. Pressure mounted in between my thighs and heat swelled through every part of my body all over again.

Rex helped guide my hips on him at the speed he liked, and he watched himself disappear inside me in the mirror with every bounce on his cock. “I could fuck you like this forever. Till the end of my fucking days. I want to watch you drain my fucking cock, mesh’la. Look so good taking all of me… feel s-so good. I want to fill you full of me. Bouncing this perfect ass on me while you take every inch of me…” He leaned back and rested on his forearms to get a better look, slapping my right cheek roughly every time I slid up to the tip.

“Whenever you want, Captain. You can have all of me. Always. Fuck… Rex… fuck me. I want to cum again on your cock,” I pleaded, tossing my hair behind me and feeling him twirl it into the grip of his left hand. I rode him faster, the length of him spearing into my spot in a blinding hot mix of pleasure and pain. I moaned loudly, the echoes of his name filling the cavern and rippling the calm surface of the hot spring. Skin slapping skin lewdly filled my ears and Rex’s low moans of pleasure spurred me on faster.

His breathing became harsher and harsher, his sworn words of pleasure hitching in his throat as higher-pitched whines took their place. I didn’t relent, feeling his circles on my clit speed up as the tingling of my nerves blended with the tightly wound knot simmering in my belly.

His cock jumped and he sat up on instinct, clutching me to him and seating me firmly into his lap as he felt white hot pleasure bubbling up within him. “Oh fuck–mesh’la… I’m gonna cum. I want to fill you so deep and watch it spill out… leak out that pretty pussy. Make a mess of my perfect dirty girl. Fuck... fuck cum on my cock… cum with me, my love… fuuuck–” he rambled, kissing up my neck and groaning deeply in my ear, the reflection of his dark eyes meeting mine.

His twisting circles on my clit sped up tenfold to catch me up, and I gasped feeling the pleasure ignite inside my core. I reached behind me to grip him by the hair and pulled tightly as he rocketed my nerves over the edge into overstimulation. I could do nothing but bite my lip to hold back the scream as my second orgasm exploded into stardust that radiated through my body. My walls pulsed around him at the same time he sent ropes of wet heat erupting into the deepest depths of my belly. I gripped his throbbing cock in the vice of my walls and held on tight as we both writhed in unison.

“Rex… Rex… Rex… Reeex–” I sputtered as pleasure seemed to take turns making its way through both of our bodies. His cock throbbed over and over, pass after pass filling up the emptiness inside more than there could ever be space to contain. My grip on him wouldn’t lessen as the fantastic high swirled through the blood in my veins, finally extinguishing the torturous hormone-crazed lust in my core.

He panted in my ear, doing his best to keep it going as we both toppled down from an overwhelming high. “I’m here, mesh’la. Fuck… I’ve got you.” He relaxed and dropped his thighs open, releasing the bind they had on mine and letting me fall open in front of him. I groaned as his cock slid out and the swirling streams of his release spilled out like a slow leak from my still-spasming hole. It dripped to the floor below and made his eyes roll back in his head as he watched it continue to coat the inside of my folds.

“See? That’s… all yours… baby. Always yours to fill like this whenever you want,” I whimpered through my blissed-out haze, feeling it spill onto my inner thighs.

“You’re so fucking… filthy. Gods, I fucking love you. I love you,” he said incredulously, kissing up my neck, along my jaw, and across my cheeks until he reached my lips. “You’ve gotta feel better now, darling, because… clearly… I’m spent… you milked me dry, gorgeous.”

I hummed happily, melting into his grasp and holding his hands now wrapping around my waist. “I’m better now. So much better.” I tipped my head back to rest on his shoulder and nuzzled my face into his neck. He tenderly spread his fingers on the swell of my little bump, perhaps trying to feel for any more flutters. “Maybe now I can finally sleep.”

Before I knew it, I was being cleaned with a washcloth and scooped into his arms while I faded on the edge of consciousness. For the first time in ages, my body felt calm and boneless, my every nerve ending satisfied. He relaxed me the best way he knew how, and I was so at ease I could finally close my eyes and settle beside him in bed.

The sheets were soft and cool compared to the muggy spa room, and the smell of Rex’s clean, woodsy scent flooded my nose. He curled me into his side, both his arms hugging me into him protectively.

It felt like all of us could finally rest for the first time in weeks, knowing we were in a safe place surrounded by more free brothers than Rex and I had seen in a long time. We were all on the same side–all of us committing to fighting for something better for the clones, for Ryloth, and for family.

I spent the next few minutes relishing in the sweet, peaceful sounds of nature of Ryloth’s night. Plants rustled in the breeze just outside a window-shaped opening in the cavern walls and nocturnal creatures sang to each other as they thrived when the rest of the planet slept. Rex’s breathing soon steadied beneath my cheek, and I drifted off shortly after, falling impossibly deeper in love with him to the sound of his breathing.

Notes: hi there :) it's been awhile. the last few chapters have been tough and emotional, even on me to write. so i figured what better way to give us all a break than to let our faves get some. ps that includes some bonus works coming soon for both wolffe and gregor's sexcapades during this chapter ;) a big massive wonderful special thank you to erin for being the best beta reader and friend ever

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ruiniel · 11 months

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Vodou symbolism in Castlevania Nocturne

Vodou developed among Afro-Haitian communities amid the Atlantic slave trade of the 16th to 19th centuries. Its structure arose from the blending of the traditional religions of those enslaved West and Central Africans, among them Yoruba, Fon, and Kongo, who had been brought to the island of Hispaniola. There, it absorbed influences from the culture of the French colonialists who controlled the colony of Saint-Domingue, most notably Roman Catholicism but also Freemasonry. Many Vodouists were involved in the Haitian Revolution of 1791 to 1801 which overthrew the French colonial government, abolished slavery, and transformed Saint-Domingue into the republic of Haiti.

At the heart of Vodou are the symbols known as vèvè. These cosmograms are intricate drawings made with cornmeal, coffee, or flour, and they serve as the visual representation of the spirits and deities (known as lwa, also called loa or loi) honored in Vodou. Each vèvè corresponds to a specific spirit, and invoking them involves drawing the corresponding symbol on the ground. This is often performed by an initiate who has learned the technique and is an essential part of Vodou rituals and ceremonies.

Let's look at some of the symbolism shown in Nocturne.

1. Agwe Arroyo or Agwe Tawoyo/Agwe 'Woyo - "Agwe of the Streams"

Captain of Immamou, the ship that carries the dead to the afterlife. He cries salt-water tears for the departed. He assisted the souls of those that suffered crimes against humanity during the trans-Atlantic slave trade. Agwe is called to calm the waves of the sea or ensure happy sailing, but mainly he is worshipped by those who fish and whose life depends on the life in the waters. People under his protection will never drown and water will never harm them.

2. Kouzen Zaka, or Azaka

The patron lwa of farmers, but he is also known as a lwa travay, a work lwa. Kouzen Zaka, represented by this vèvè, is the guardian of the fields in Haitian Vodou. The drawing of his symbol showcases elements of agricultural activity, including the earth, machete, sickle, hoe. Zaka is closely tied to work and is revered by farmers and those who rely on agriculture for their livelihood.

3. Erzulie Dantò or Ezilí Dantor

The main lwa of the Petwo lwa family in Haitian Vodou. She is a powerful and protective mother figure, often depicted holding a knife, symbolizes justice and will forcefully fight to protect her children, who are her loyal followers. She is a single mother, a Haitian peasant who is fiercely independent and takes care of her own, a strong protector of women and children.

4. Legba: The Guardian of the Gates

Papa Legba, the first spirit to manifest during a Vodou ceremony, holds a special place in the Vodou Pantheon in Haiti. His vèvè symbolizes his role as the barrier between the two worlds, with two perpendicular axes and his cane. Known as a trickster Loa, he usually appears as an old man on a crutch or with a cane, wearing a broad-brimmed straw hat and smoking a pipe, or drinking dark rum. The dog is sacred to him. He carries a sack on a strap across one shoulder from which he dispenses destiny. He is believed to speak all human languages. In Haiti, he is the great elocutioner: Legba facilitates communication, speech, and understanding. During Vodou ceremonies he opens the spiritual gateway that separates the Loas from our physical world.

In addition, Papa Legba is the guardian of portals, doors, and crossroads. His role is critical in any Vodou ritual, as he's the one who grants access to the other Loas and allows them to manifest themselves during the ceremony.

What we hear Annette chant in the series is 'Papa Legba: Ouvè Baryè'a' (Papa Legba: Open the Gate).

There's a lot more to dive into, but this was a summary.

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scottguy · 3 months

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This is an excerpt from an article on how the wealthy helped Hitler, like the wealthy are helping Trump, to power. The rich thought they could 'control' Hitler. (Like the American Republicans thought Trump would fall in-line after 2016 and be more normal.)

But Germany ended up being bombed to rubble because the rich were stupid and only saw short-term gain.

You can't make deals with the devil because deals require honor. The devil has no honor. Honor is a good thing! (It's odd how people still depend on the presence of decency to help *themselves*, even when they're willing to ignore decency towards others. So many in Trump's cabinet found out the hard way, evil has NO honor or integrity no matter how hard they served that evil.)

A link to the entire article is below this excerpt:

The conservative elite were the old ruling class (i.e. rich) and new business class in Weimar Germany. Throughout the 1920s they became increasingly frustrated with the Weimar Republic’s continuing economic and political instability, their lack of real power and the rise of communism. They believed that a return to authoritarian rule was the only stable future for Germany which would protect their power and money.

The first move towards this desired authoritarian rule was Hindenburg’s increasing use of Article 48 .

(Note by me: Article 48 in Germany then was a declaration of an emergency with powers granted to the leader to allow rule as a dictator. )

Between 1925-1931 Article 48 was used a total of 16 times. In 1931 alone this rose to 42 uses, in comparison to only 35 Reichstag laws being passed in the same year. In 1932, Article 48 was used 58 times.

The conservative elite’s second move towards authoritarian rule was helping the Nazi Party to gain power. The conservative elite and the Nazi Party had a common enemy – the political left .

As Hitler controlled the masses support for the political right, the conservative elite believed that they could use Hitler and his popular support to ‘democratically’ take power. Once in power, Hitler could destroy the political left. Destroying the political left would help to remove the majority of political opponents to the ring-wing conservative elite.

Once Hitler had removed the left-wing socialist opposition and destroyed the Weimar Republic, the conservative elite thought they would be able to replace Hitler, and appoint a leader of their choice.

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

Sound familiar? They want to get rid of us pesky liberals. Then they'd dump or 'control' Hitler.

Of course, that didn't happen. Hitler was now too popular. As most know, Hitler built up armies and then systematically invaded Europe murdering Jews in those countries too.

There is no doubt that Trump, like Hitler, or any Republican would resist the power of using the American army simply because it is bigger than ten other countries combined in military spending.

First the US would bomb, then invade, Mexico on the pretense of stopping fentanyl and immigration. But why stop there? The people have no morals. Land is worth money! MAGAs would love to see the United States cover ALL of North America.

How long until NATO kicks us out, and then they, or China or Russia, start fighting back? It would start World War III.

Could American citizens stop it?

No! We'll be too busy hiding our immigrant, trans and lgbtq friends and family from Trump's police state and pretending we're no longer liberal.

China is a dictatorship. Russia is a dictatorship. India is essentially a dictatorship. Dozens of smaller countries, Venezuela, Turkey, Iran....

Why on earth does anyone think it "can't happen here?" Their citizens are just as smart (and as dumb) as our citizens. The US Constitution is just a piece of paper if one party and enough judges decide to ignore it as they now routinely do!

Trump, as president, openly and blatantly broke a very specific clause, the emoluments clause and profited from his position as president which is bad for many obvious reasons. But, Congress never said a word!

We think DOCUMENTS protect us. But, Trump taught us, it's only the people who are willing to RESPECT those documents and words. The entire Republican party (half of Congress) and the majority of the Supreme Court have decided they don't give a DAMN what is written or implied by our constitution.

The recent SC ruling that presidents have immunity for "official acts" was the knife through the heart of respect for our US Constitution.

Other countries have tyrants because they have resources ripe for plunder by those tyrants. So they took power. The USA has even more resources. Religious fanatics also want power back like they had before 1776. It's a potentially deadly mix of greed and mindless religious zealotry.

Vote blue... no matter what. Or we end up with the United States bombed to rubble and perhaps radioactive after nuclear bombs are used. It could happen. We all thought a president would never DARE to openly assault Congress.

We are not in a "normal" America anymore!

Voting for Biden seems like an easy and small thing to do compared with suffering for decades through the dozens of nightmare scenarios that will come out of having a Nazi-like dictator running the United States.

Here's the original article....

Below is a screenshot of where the above link takes you.

#the wealthy helped hitler like they're helping trump #the rich thought they could control Hitler #voting Biden is better than allowing WWIII #voting Biden is better than death camps for immigrants lgbtq and liberals #Biden can be trusted with nuclear weapons #trump can't be trusted with nuclear weapons

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dailyanarchistposts · 6 months

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Chapter 4. Environment

No philosophy or movement for liberation can ignore the connection between human exploitation of the environment and our exploitation of one another, nor can it ignore the suicidal ramifications of industrial society. A free society must forge a respectful and sustainable relationship with its bioregion, on the understanding that humans depend on the health of the entire planet.

What’s to stop someone from destroying the environment?

Some people oppose capitalism on environmental grounds, but think some sort of state is necessary to prevent ecocide. But the state is itself a tool for the exploitation of nature. Socialist states such as the Soviet Union and People’s Republic of China have been among the most ecocidal regimes imaginable. That these two societies never escaped the dynamics of capitalism is itself a feature of the state structure — it necessitates hierarchical, exploitative economic relationships of control and command, and once you start playing that game nothing beats capitalism. However the state does present the possibility of forcibly changing people’s behavior on a massive scale, and this power is attractive to some environmentalists. There have been a few states in world history that enforced protective measures domestically, when saving the environment coincided with their strategic interests. One of the foremost is Japan, which halted and reversed deforestation in the archipelago around the Meiji period. But in this case and other cases, domestic environmental protections enforced by the state were coupled with greater exploitation abroad. Japanese society consumed increasing amounts of imported wood, fueling deforestation in other countries and providing an incentive for the development of an imperial military to secure these vital resources. This led not only to environmental devastation but also to warfare and genocide. Similarly in Western Europe, statist environmental protections came at the expense of colonial exploitation, which also resulted in genocide.

In smaller-scale societies, the existence of an elite tends to fuel environmental exploitation. The renowned social collapse on Easter Island was caused in large part by the elite, who compelled the society to build statues in their honor. This statue-building complex deforested the island, as large numbers of logs were needed for scaffolding and transportation of the statues, and farmland to feed the laborers came at the expense of more forests. Without forests, soil fertility plummeted, and without food the human population plunged as well. But they didn’t just starve or decrease their birth rate — the clan elites warred with one another, knocking down rival statues and carrying out raids that culminated in cannibalism, until nearly the entire society died off.[62]

A decentralized, communal society with a commonly held ecological ethos is the best equipped to prevent environmental destruction. In economies that value local self-sufficiency over trade and production, communities have to deal with the environmental consequences of their own economic behaviors. They cannot pay others to take their garbage or starve so they can have an abundance.

Local control of resources also discourages overpopulation. Studies have shown that when the members of a society can directly see how having too many children will diminish the resources available for everyone, they keep their families within a sustainable limit. But when these localized societies are incorporated into a globalized economy in which most resources and wastes are imported and exported, and scarcity results from seemingly arbitrary price fluctuations rather than the depletion of local resources, populations climb unsustainably, even if more effective forms of contraception are also available.[63] In Seeing Like a State, James Scott explains how governments enforce “legibility” — a uniformity that enables comprehension from above, in order to control and track subjects. As a result, such societies lose the local knowledge necessary to understand problems and situations.

Capitalism, Christianity, and Western science all share a certain mythology regarding nature, which encourages exploitation and contempt, and views the natural world as dead, mechanical, and existing to satisfy human consumption. This megalomania masquerading as Reason or Divine Truth has revealed itself beyond all doubt to be suicidal. What is needed instead is a culture that respects the natural world as a living, interconnected thing, and understands our place within it. Bruce Stewart, a Maori writer and activist, told an interviewer, pointing to a flowering vine he had planted by his house,

This vine no longer has a name. Our Maori name has been lost, so we’ll have to find another. Only one of this plant remained in the world, living on a goat-infested island. The plant could go any day. So I got a seed and planted it here. The vine has grown, and although it normally takes twenty years to bloom, this one is blooming after seven. ...If we are to survive, each of us must become kaitiaki, which to me is the most important concept in my own Maori culture. We must become caretakers, guardians, trustees, nurturers. In the old days each whanau, or family, used to look after a specific piece of terrain. One family might look after a river from a certain rock down to the next bend. And they were the kaitiaki of the birds and fish and plants. They knew when it was time to take them to eat, and when it was not. When the birds needed to be protected, the people put a rahui on them, which means the birds were temporarily sacred. And some birds were permanently tapu, which means they were full-time protected. This protection was so strong that people would die if they broke it. It’s that simple. It needed no policing. In their eagerness to unsavage my ancestors Christian missionaries killed the concept of tapu along with many others. [64]

Tikopia, a Pacific island settled by Polynesian people, provides a good example of a decentralized, anarchic society that has successfully dealt with life-and-death environmental problems. The island is only 1.8 square miles in area and supports 1,200 inhabitants — that is, 800 people per square mile of farmland. The community has existed sustainably for 3,000 years. Tikopia is covered in multi-storied orchard-gardens that mimic the natural rainforests. At first sight, most of the island appears to be covered in forest, though true rainforests only remain on a few steep parts of the island. Tikopia is small enough that all its inhabitants can become familiar with their entire ecosystem. It is also isolated, so for a long time they could not import resources or export the consequences of their lifestyle. Each of the four clans have chiefs, though these have no coercive powers and play a ceremonial role as the custodians of tradition. Tikopia is among the least socially stratified of the Polynesian islands; for example, the chiefs still have to work and produce their own food. Population control is a common value, and parents feel it is immoral to have more than a certain number of children. In one striking example of the power of these collectively held and reinforced values, around the year 1600 the islanders reached a collective decision to end pig-breeding. They slaughtered all the pigs on the island, even though pig meat was a highly valued food source, because keeping pigs was a major strain on the environment. [65] In a more stratified, hierarchical society, this might have been impossible, because the elite would typically force poorer people to suffer the consequences of their lifestyles rather than give up an esteemed luxury product [66].

Before colonization and the disastrous arrival of missionaries, population control methods on Tikopia included natural contraception, abortion, and abstinence for younger people — though this was a compassionate celibacy that amounted to a prohibition on reproduction rather than on sex. Tikopians also used other forms of population control, such as infanticide, that many people in other societies would find impermissible, but Tikopia can still provide us with a perfectly valid example because with the effectiveness of modern contraception and abortion techniques, no other methods are necessary for a decentralized approach to population control. The most important feature of the Tikopian example is their ethos: their recognition that they lived on an island and resources were limited, so that increasing their population was tantamount to suicide. Other Polynesian island societies ignored that fact and subsequently died off. The planet Earth, in this sense, is also an island; accordingly, we need to develop both global consciousness and localized economies, so we can avoid exceeding the capacity of the land and stay aware of the other living things with whom we share this island.

Today most of the world is not organized into communities that are structured to be sensitive to the limits of the local environment, but it is possible to recreate such communities. There is a growing movement of ecologically sustainable communities, or “ecovillages,” organized on horizontal, non-hierarchical lines, in which groups of people ranging from a dozen to several hundred come together to create anarchic societies with organic, sustainable designs. The construction of these villages maximizes resource efficiency and ecological sustainability, and also cultivates sensitivity to the local environment on a cultural and spiritual level. These ecovillages are at the forefront of developing sustainable technologies. Any alternative community can degenerate into yuppie escapism, and ecovillages are vulnerable to this, but a leading part of the ecovillage movement seeks to develop and spread innovations that are relevant to the world at large rather than to close itself off from the world. To help proliferate ecovillages and adapt them to all regions of the globe, and to facilitate coordination between existing ecovillages, 400 delegates from 40 countries met in Findhorn, Scotland, in 1995 and established the Global Ecovillage Network.

Each ecovillage is a little different, but a few examples can provide an idea of their diversity. The Farm, in rural Tennessee, has 350 residents. Established in 1971, it contains mulch gardens, solar-heated showers, a sustainable shiitake mushroom business, straw bale houses, and a center for training people from around the world to build their own ecovillages. Old Bassaisa, in Egypt, contains a few hundred residents and has existed for thousands of years. The residents have perfected an ecological and sustainable village design from traditional methods. Old Bassaisa now contains a Future Studies center, and they are developing new sustainable technologies like a methane gas producing unit that extracts gases from cow manure to save themselves from having to use scarce firewood. They use the leftover slurry as fertilizer for their fields. Ecotop, near Dusseldorf in Germany, is an entire suburb with hundreds of residents living in several four-story apartment buildings and a few detached homes. The architecture fosters a sense of community and freedom, with a number of communal and private spaces. Between the buildings, in a sort of village center, is a multi-use courtyard/playground /pedestrian zone, as well as community gardens and an abundance of plants and trees. The buildings, which have a completely modern, urban aesthetic, were constructed with natural materials and designed with passive heating and cooling and biological on-site wastewater treatment.

Earthhaven, with about 60 residents, was founded in 1995 in North Carolina by permaculture designers. It is composed of several neighborhood clusters set in the steep Appalachian hills. Most of the land is covered in forest, but the residents recently made the difficult decision to clear some of the forest for gardens so they could come closer to food self-sufficiency rather than exporting the costs of their lifestyle by purchasing food from elsewhere. They talked about it a long time, prepared themselves spiritually, and attempted to clear the land in a respectful way. This sort of attitude, which capitalist ideology would dismiss as sentimental and inefficient, is exactly what could prevent destruction of the environment in an anarchist society.

Also necessary are fierceness and the willingness to take direct action to defend the environment. On the isthmus of Tehuantepec, in Oaxaca, Mexico, anarchist and anti-authoritarian indigenous people have shown exactly these qualities in protecting the land against a series of threats. Organizations such as the Union of Indigenous Communities of the Northern Zone of the Isthmus, UCIZONI, which includes one hundred communities in Oaxaca and Veracruz, and later the anarchist/Magonista group CIPO-RFM, have fought against the environmentally devastating construction of wind farms, shrimp farms, eucalyptus plantations, and the expropriation of land by the lumber industry. They have also reduced economic pressures to exploit the environment by setting up corn and coffee cooperatives and building schools and clinics. Meanwhile, they have created a network of autonomous community radio stations to educate people about dangers to the environment and inform the surrounding communities about new industrial projects that would destroy more land. In 2001, the indigenous communities defeated the construction of a highway that was part of Plan Puebla Panama, a neoliberal megaproject intended to connect North and South America with transportation infrastructure designed to increase the flow of commodities. During the Zapatista rebellion of 1994, they shut down transportation lines to slow down the movement of troops, and they also blocked highways and shut down government offices to support the 2006 rebellion throughout Oaxaca.

In 1998, the Minnesota Department of Transportation wanted to reroute a highway through a park in Minneapolis along the confluence of the Minnesota and Mississippi rivers. The proposed reroute would destroy an area that contained old trees, a precious oak savanna ecosystem, an ancient freshwater spring, and sites sacred to Native Americans — a vital wild space in the middle of the city that also served as a refuge for many neighbors. Indigenous activists with the American Indian Movement and the Mendota Mdewakanton Dakota Community came together to work in coalition with white residents, environmentalists from Earth First!, and anarchists from all over the country to help stop the construction. The result was the Minnehaha Free State, an autonomous zone that became the first and longest-lasting urban anti-road occupation in US history. For a year and a half, hundreds of people occupied the land to prevent the Department of Transportation from cutting down the trees and building the highway, and thousands more supported and visited the Free State. The occupation empowered countless participants, reconnected many Dakota people with their heritage, won the support of many neighbors, created a yearlong autonomous zone and self-organizing community, and significantly delayed the destruction of the area — buying time during which many people were able to discover and enjoy the space in an intimate and spiritual way.

To crush the occupation, the state was forced to resort to a variety of repressive tactics. The people at the encampment were subjected to harassment, surveillance, and infiltration. An army of police officers raided and destroyed the camps repeatedly; tortured, hospitalized, and almost killed people; and carried out over a hundred arrests. In the end, the state cut down the trees and built the highway, but the protestors did manage to save Coldwater Spring, which is a sacred site to the area’s indigenous peoples and an important part of the local watershed. The Native participants declared an important spiritual victory.

People throughout Minneapolis who had initially supported the destructive project because of its supposed benefits to the transportation system were won over by the resistance to save the park, and came to oppose the highway. If the decision had been up to them, the highway would not have been built. The Free State created and nurtured coalitions and community bonds that last to this day, shaping new generations of radical community and inspiring similar efforts around the world.

Outside Edinburgh, Scotland, eco-anarchists have had even more success saving a forest. The Bilston Glen anti-roads camp has existed for over seven years as of this writing, drawing the participation of hundreds of people and stopping the construction of a bypass desired by large biotech facilities in the area. To allow people to live there permanently with a lower impact on the forest, and to make it harder for police to evict them, the activists have built houses up in the trees which people occupy year round. The village is certainly low technology, but it is also low impact, and some of the houses are clearly works of love, comfortable enough to be considered permanent homes. The dozen or so inhabitants have also been tending the forest, removing invasive species and encouraging the growth of native species. The Bilston Glen tree village is just one in a long line of anti-road occupations and ecological direct actions in the UK that create a collective force that makes the state think twice about building new roads or evicting protestors. The village also crosses the line between simply opposing government policy and creating new social relations with the environment: in the course of defending it, dozens of people have made the forest their home, and hundreds more people have personally seen the importance of relating with nature in a respectful way and defending it from Western civilization.

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