#and now after the latest chapter i'm feeling like it is the proper set up for what apparently was going on

[the-faxx-macheen]

After reading the new chapter translation it reminded me of something I saw when I first binged the whole thing and while half asleep went looking for fanart

Did I just like fucking hallucinate that there'll be an entire evil Mahiru arc? Was it some other manga? Was it a fanwork or real? Or am I just that bad at Google?

[unclassedguy]

I don't think I really enjoyed the latest chapter, and honestly from the way things are looking I'm probably not going to enjoy Jujutsu Kaisen's ending either....

I obviously like the characters, I like Yuji, I like Nobara, Megumi is alright.....I get wanting them to be happy. A lot of the stuff I draw in fact involves putting characters I like into silly situations as though they aren't in constant suffering in the source material (I'm immune to being serious 💔).

However, I feel like I'm not really vibing with this 'the trio is alright and they'll all be happy together' ending it seems Gege is setting up. I think part of it stems from the way Nobara and Megumi have been handled these past chapters. There was so much hype for Nobara's comeback.....I get it, she's a badass and fun character who's time in the story was cut awfully short.....I really do understand why so many people would want her back, but I just don't really like how close to the ending her return was and also the fact that up until that point it seemed pretty heavily implied that she had died. Not only that but her 'death' was such an important moment for Yuji and part of what made Shibuya and Yuji's story so tragic and Mahito so reprehensible as a villain. Nobara coming back so suddenly without even proper time dedicated to her (as in actual hints that she was alive and more chapters to explore the dynamics of her return and her contributions to the battle beyond one move) to make it feel even a smidgen satisfying just didn't sit right with me. The first thing I thought of upon seeing the chapter of her return was that it felt like fanservice. It felt like the type of thing a fan of the story would write for the 'hype' and not a choice that made sense. It was the same thing as Yuta returning in Gojo's body. People like Gojo, and having a chapter make it seem like he was coming back of course got the fans' attention. But in the end the story could've still worked well, maybe even better, without Yuta-jo's addition to the fight. It was unessecary.

Then we have Megumi who's been through so much for a good chunk of the story now. His body was taken over and used to hurt people he cares about, most of all his sister who is pretty much the center of his world, the person he loves the most. He'd given up, he'd sunk to the lowest depths submerged in Sukuna's evil. I feel like he sprung back pretty quickly......I don't think I'm as iffy about Megumi's return as I am with Nobara's considering Megumi actually at least got some pretty good and decent scenes with Yuji getting through to him and now also a talk with Sukuna.....but I dunno, I still don't know if I enjoyed how it was handled, particularly the fact that he just kind of comes back with no consequences after all the shit Sukuna's put his body through. I mean, he has a couple of scars sure but is that really all you'd expect after the world class beating he just got?????

Then we have Sukuna, reduced to glob of flesh. I don't mind Sukuna getting a pathetic death. After all he's done I think he deserved getting flung off his high horse and trampled on the ground. It still felt really abrupt though and like it didn't get enough time considering he's been such a big pain for months now and is one of the major antagonists. He's just suddenly gone and it felt anticlimactic and unsatisfying. I would've also liked to see at least a bit of what he was like in the Heain era.....

Hakari and Uraume too 😭. We really got none of their fight and when Sukuna is gone Uraume just....evaporates???? It honestly felt like Gege was just trying to get them out of the way so the series can end already and not an actual conclusion to their character. I wish they could've gotten more depth beyond being just Sukuna's loyal servant.

Them there's of course all the things Gege still hasn't touched such as Jin being Sukuna's twin, Kenjaku being Yuji's mom, the merger etc. Those things I guess I'm not as sad about because I'd already come to terms with the fact that Gege isn't going to get into them, at least not to the extent I would've wanted. It still sucks though.

Maybe I'm just a hater, maybe I don't understand what Gege was trying to do, maybe it's just a matter of preference. I think Gege probably tried his best with jjk using what he had and I don't think it'd be right to hate on him. And even if I am kind of dissapointed in where this story is going I don't blame anyone for liking it.

I may just not like 'happily ever after' endings or something. Not to say Jujutsu Kaisen is some super uplifting story even if the main trio has survived. There's still characters who have died and stayed dead, but it's still definitely a happier ending than what I expected.

At the end of the day, I like stories that put their characters through the wringer. I like stories that destroy everything their protagonist has ever had and turn their world upside down and accept no half-assed reparations to the damage they've caused. I like stories that fuck up everyone involved but still let at least one of them be smiling by the end, even if they're alone, because life is still worth living. Honestly, I would've preferred Yuji move on by himself than for a happy ending to be squeezed out of jjk's remains in a way that didn't feel satisfying. Though maybe I wouldn't be so sour about an ending where the trio gets to live together if we had just had more time to make it feel right. To make it feel emotionally impactful and like it wasn't just hype. I'd take a bittersweet but well-done ending over a half-assed good ending and a well-done good ending over a bittersweet ending....y'know?

Well, that's just my opinion.

[thewrittenpaige]

Because I am addicted now, I'm thinking of an roleswap AU featuring Amy taking Sonic's place in the plot, with a focus on Sonic Adventure 1. Major details being:

Eggman and Professor Gerald swap places. Gerald sees himself as the good guy who wants to create a safe and just world...The only problem is, most people don't like that his idea of "safe and just" involves setting himself up as ruler of everything. Using the badnik designs his grandfather Ivo created, he plans to make a world worthy of his beloved and sick niece, Maria.

Amy is the hero with a tendency to get in the way of the Professor's plans. With her hammer in hand and a strong sense of justice, Amy Adventure 1 (proper name pending) is only the latest of her adventures, after having stopped Gerald's Death Egg (better name pending), saving Angel Island, and protecting Little Planet. Now in Station Square, she's about to get roped into something new...

Cream is Amy's "sidekick", who helped her destroy the Death Egg (much to the complaints of her mother Vanilla). Cream doesn't seek out adventure like Amy does, but her desire to protect people often means she gets involved. While her role as Amy's closest friend is similar to Tails' from the Main Universe, her part in Amy Adventure is actually closer to Main!Amy's, as she meets a chao (who she names Cheese) fleeing with a special pendant from a dangerous badnik. Soon, she has to protect this little chao when nobody else will.

Rouge the Bat is the guardian of Angel Island, the last of the bat clan that has protected the Master Emerald for so long. Unlike the Main Universe Knuckles, who takes to his role rather well, Rouge is...frustrated with her job. She's dedicated to protecting her home and the Emerald (the latter of which she adores), she would never abandon her post, but ever since meeting Amy Rose and getting to see a small piece of the outside world, she wants more. When Chaos is unleashed by Professor Gerald and the Master Emerald is shattered across the region, she sees this as her chance to explore and get a taste of what the world is like. And if she can steal a few precious gems or neat toys? All the better.

Sonic's role is, oddly enough, closer to Tails' from Sonic Adventure 1. He works closely with Amy to stop Gerald and gather the Chaos Emeralds. He has a confusing relationship with Amy; she saved him when he was captured by Metal Amy back on Little Planet, and the two have a fairly close friendship because of that. That said, Amy's crush on him makes him uncomfortable, and it makes them have trouble working together sometimes. It's an issue they're working to get over. (Additionally, Amy and Sonic are both the same age for this AU.)

Tails takes the role of Big, with a little inspiration from Nine from Sonic Prime. Tails never met Sonic growing up, so he's more reclusive and less certain that he can trust others. From his workshop in the Mystic Ruins, he's created a robotic fox companion--the Prower Prowler, meant to be a pet as well as a bodyguard. But when the Prowler absorbs energy from Chaos and steals Tails' Chaos Emerald, the young loner is forced to find it--and maybe learn to trust others in the process.

Emerl is Professor Gerald's finest creation--a powerful robot capable of helping him gather the Chaos Emeralds to empower Chaos. A one-of-a-kind robot of a different kind than badniks, Emerl is very simple in thought, but will grow as time goes on. As Gerald's chief enforcer, Emerl must decide what he wants to be as he starts to learn and change, and whether or not Gerald has his best interests at heart.

I'm actually working on writing this AU as a fic, though it still has issues. Sonic feels like he needs a more concrete role and focus, for example, but generally I think this can be a really fun AU. Now to just finish the first chapter.

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

Remembrance Chapter 10

Here is the latest chapter of my Armand/Daniel fic Remembrance. Or you can read it below

Louisiana is a closed record state, so Daniel can't even do any research to pass the time. It leaves him with his thoughts, which is a dangerous thing. It's been a hell of a day.

He resigns himself to getting some sleep, when there's a knock on his door. Daniel sighs deeply. “Go away, Armand.”

“It's me.”

Louis' voice. Daniel gets up from his seat and goes to the door. Louis is on the other side, looking almost shy. Daniel leans against the door frame. “Did he send you?”

Louis holds up his hands. “I'm here on my own.”

Daniel steps back and gestures Louis to come in. Louis doesn't move. “I was hoping we could continue the interview.”

Daniel eyes him carefully. He seems...fine. Closed off, distant. He's like a ghost walking again. Daniel is no expert, but he figures it can't be healthy. “You up for it?”

Inwardly, he curses himself for worrying about Louis. He shouldn't. Louis certainly didn't worry about him all those years ago, when he and Armand let him go. Louis smiles a small smile that doesn't meet his eyes. “Are you?”

“Let me grab my stuff.”

A few minutes later, they're in the living room ready to record.

“For Claudia, all humans died with Charlie.”

Daniel isn't sure they were ever really alive for her, not after she got turned. But he keeps that thought to himself. He listens to Louis talk about fear of a hunger strike, of discovering Claudia was killing and keeping souvenirs, of the police searching the house. Then of the fight between them and Claudia leaving.

“I had no words for her. What words were there?” Louis says. “It all happened so fast. I was trying to save you. All vampires are born out of trauma.”

Louis, who has been sitting so still on the edge of the couch shifts and leans closer. “We made her out of remorse...out of selfishness.”

“Poor dear. She wasn't held enough in between ritualistic murders.”

Louis shakes his head. “She spent every night for half a decade with no friends, locked in the emotional storm of puberty.”

Does Louis know how he sounds? He speaks of her like she was a victim—and in some ways she was—but it hardly dissolves her of guilt. The girl was a monster; Louis treats her like she was still human.

“Look, Charlie Manson wrote a couple of beautiful songs. Still, he was Charlie Manson.”

Louis meets his gaze. “Is that all you think of her?”

The thing is, as a character she's likable. Sympathetic, to a certain degree. But Daniel doesn't know her; he doesn't have fatherly affection to cloud his judgment. “Mostly. I also think she makes you and Frenchy look like a couple of whiny, existential queens. Probably why she's a fucking gold mine. The girl who moves a million books.”

Louis looks noticeably bothered by the remark. Daniel might feel bad, if he wasn't still so pissed off about this entire scenario.

“I won't have her exploited.”

Daniel can understand that. It's his daughter. But he has to know he can't control how people see her. “Won't matter what your intentions are. It's the world out there now. She's the single shooter, X-box, mouth-breather shit they crave.”

“You can put the diaries in a proper context.”

Oh.

Louis trusts him with this. Daniel can see now why he chose him to do this interview. He knows Daniel cares about him, and he thinks it will make him show more care. Even after all these years, he trusts Daniel not to do something to hurt him. It's...incredibly frustrating, actually. He let Daniel walk away; he doesn't get to ask for favors.

“Context? Sure,” Daniel says. “Warn the world about a forthcoming apocalypse. Or maybe inspire a line of sexy Claudia Halloween costumes. Or a cool dismemberment trend amongst the suburban Sylvia Plath set.”

Louis keeps scraping a nail against the couch. He's already split a gash in the fabric. This turn of conversation is obviously upsetting him, but he has to understand what he's in for. “Once you put it out there, they decide what it is. It can get away from you.”

Louis picks up a journal and drops it beside him. “Keep reading.”

“Keep talking,” Daniel counters.

Louis does, saying how in the coming years he longed for Claudia, ached for her. How he sent out telepathic messages, but she had closed her mind to him. Daniel gets it; he remembers calling out to Armand after the many times he left, begging to come back home.

It seems Claudia was stronger than him.

/

It's been nearly a month since Daniel left and he's miserable. He's sleeping on a park bench, because his hotel kicked him out this morning for not being able to pay. He had only brought a few grand in cash with him to live off of. The idea had been to find a job, then find a place to live. So far he's had luck with neither.

And the dreams have started. Dreams of Armand, nearly every night now. Not that Armand will ever admit that he sends them. Not that he'll admit he wants Daniel to come home. No, he waits for Daniel to be desperate and begging before he lets him back.

“Armand, I need you. Come for me. Come take me home.”

There's no answer.

Christ, he feels like shit. He hasn't eaten since lunch yesterday, when he ran out of cash. His head is pounding and his eyes hurt. He needs a drink. (What he really needs is Armand's blood, but he's not going to think of that.)

If only he had some spare change, he could use a payphone to call Armand. Beg him to send one of the planes to take him home. Daniel misses home.

“Armand, I want to be with you.”

He should have called last night. He'd woken up late after a dream of Armand, woken up hard and wanting. Only stubborn pride had kept him from reaching out. But he knew he'd be back. Didn't he always go crawling back?

At least it's warm tonight. He won't perish in his sleep from the elements. Of course, he might get robbed or worse. And wouldn't Armand feel guilty then for ignoring him? Daniel almost wishes he would get hurt, just to spite him.

“Please, boss. I miss you.”

The silence isn't any less frustrating for being expected. Eventually, Daniel does fall asleep. He wakes to a hand on his arm and the tingle of another mind pressed to his. Hope surges in Daniel and he sits up, eyes flying open. The image of Louis greets him, wearing jeans and a zip-up hoodie. Daniel can see his Grateful Dead t-shirt peeking out from the partially open zipper. Daniel wanders if he's wearing it because he missed him. If Armand misses him too.

“Not who I expected.”

Louis smiles slightly. “Hello, Daniel.”

“Hey Louis. You come to take me home?” Daniel swings his legs off the bench and stands up. It's dark out, but there's a lamppost not too far away that's shedding light. Louis looks good; he has that glow that means he's just eaten. Shame, Daniel would have let him snack on him.

“I have. We need to talk.”

Uh oh. “That why it's you, not Armand?”

A thought strikes Daniel. Louis would have to been on the way to get him hours before he called out to Armand earlier. So either Armand had always intended to bring him home and just let him suffer in silence because he was a bastard, or Louis came of his own accord to get him.

“Don't worry; he knows I'm here,” Louis assures. He starts walking away and leaves Daniel to follow. Daniel shoves his hands in his pockets and saunters behind him. The view of Louis from behind is one he's missed. The man has an ass that won't quit.

They only walk a short while before coming to the sleek, black Rolls-Royce parked in the small lot near the park. Daniel had expected the limo and the chauffeur, but this is nice. “Can I drive?”

“Hell no,” Louis says and slides into the driver's seat. He's been wary of letting Daniel drive since he crashed the Mustang a few months back. In his defense, he had been high off his gourd at the time and arguing with Armand. Driving away had seemed the only option at the time; he had just needed some space. Armand had been furious with him for putting his life in danger.

Daniel sinks into the passenger seat and immediately starts fiddling with the radio. He stops it at a station playing an Aerosmith song. Steve Tyler crones about it being the same old story while Louis stares at Daniel.

“You should probably watch the road. Precious cargo and all that.”

Louis flicks his eyes back to the road and says Daniel's name.

“Yeah?”

“You know Armand isn't the only one who misses you when you leave.”

Daniel feels his face go warm. And it's not like he doesn't know Louis is fond of him. Hell, they've fucked enough times to prove it. But they both care about Armand more, and Daniel isn't always sure where that leaves them. Friends who fuck (sometimes) seems too glib to convey the magnitude of what it is. Yes, Daniel is Armand's, but he and Louis are partners of a kind too. They're together in their own way, one completely different than what he has with Armand. So when Daniel leaves, he's leaving Louis too.

Daniel runs a hand through his hair and looks away from Louis. “Shit, man. I know, I'm just...”

He trails off. Things with Armand can get difficult. It's hard to explain. “Sometimes I just need to escape, you know? He can be a lot.”

Daniel fiddles with the radio just to have something to do with his hands. He ends up on a station playing 'Wild Horses' by the Rolling Stones. Louis likes the Stones, so he leaves it there.

“He can,” Louis agrees. “But next time things get to be too much, come talk to me, okay? Don't just leave without saying goodbye.”

“Yeah, I-ah, I can do that.”

Then, acting on impulse, Daniel leans over and kisses Louis on the cheek. It's more affectionate than he and Louis usually are. Outside of sex they don't really touch each other that much. Louis must like it, because he catches Daniel by the chin and presses a quick kiss to his lips. “I'd kiss you proper, but I gotta keep my eyes on the road.”

He's grinning as he says it. Daniel grins back at him and asks “Hey, want me to give you road head?”

/

Daniel reads Claudia's journal, her recount of meeting another vampire, Bruce. Except there are pages missing.

“There are four pages torn out.”

Louis seems impatient when he says “I'll repeat myself; I will not exploit her.”

“Did she tear them out? Doesn't seem like something she would do.” Daniel knows that he's provoking Louis, but he can't bring himself to care.

“It's clear what happened.”

Does Louis really think he's going to try to exploit her assault? And didn't he say he was doing this to give her peace? He needs to hear what she says for that. “And she wrote about it, and I'd like to read it.”

“No.”

“When you do that, Louis, when you editorialize, however noble the reasoning, it calls into question the other shit you're shoveling my way,” And boy, isn't there enough of that. “Or maybe you can recite it from memory, as you've demonstrated before.”

Daniel knows he's probably pushing Louis too hard, but he's here to get the truth. The whole truth. Even the ugly parts. “Uh, let's see. 'Bruce walked back from the fire and leaned down over me and...Torn out pages.”

Something shifts in Louis' expression and there's a hardness in his eyes. Daniel feels his hand begin to shake inside the glove he's wearing. It hurts. He grips it with the other hand and tries to hold it down on the seat beside him.

“Don't ask again,” Louis says, eyes boring into him. Daniel's hand keeps shaking.

Only a second later, Armand is sweeping into the room and placing a hand on Louis' shoulder. Louis' eyes close and his hands go out in front of him. Daniel's hand slows its shaking then stops.

“Louis finds it difficult to talk about Claudia,” Armand says.

“Got that,” Daniel says, glancing up at Armand. It's strange to see Armand trying to keep the peace. From what Daniel remembers, generally Louis played peace keeper.

Armand is trying to apologize for Louis, but Daniel ignores him. He gets up and slaps Louis across the face. It's extremely satisfying, even if he knows it can't actually hurt him.

Louis turns his face into it, so at least Daniel doesn't break a hand in the process. But that hardly gains him back any points. He crossed a line. They stare at each other for a hate-filled moment, then Daniel sits down.

“Still recording.”

[shadowqueen402]

The Divorce

Fic for @kayssweetdreams . This is based off her latest chapter for her Prim and Proper Problems fic.

A man named Sean Carmichael sat at the rather elegant kitchen table of the mansion that he lived in along with his wife, Primrose Gaillot, and his daughter, Dolly Carmichael. He waited patiently for Primrose to come back as he has something important to say.

The grand doors of the mansion soon opened and Primrose's voice was heard. "Honey, I'm home! I found the most perfect outfits for Dolly to wear! Is our baby girl home yet?"

"No, she's not," Sean called back. "Can you meet me in the kitchen? There's something I need to discuss with you."

"Okay, dearie!" The sound of Primrose's heels clacking on the marble floors grew louder and louder until she reached the kitchen where her husband sat. "So what did you want to tell me?" Her too-nice smile was plastered on her face.

"You may want to sit down for this." Sean motioned for Primrose to sit across from him. Confused, the blonde-haired lady slowly sat down in front him.

"We have been married for ten years," Sean pointed out.

"Yes, the most perfect ten years of my life," Primrose said, proudly.

"See that's where we differ." Sean frowned at this. "After we got married, you demanded that I quit my job because you said it wasn't 'successful enough'. It was an amazing job. One that I loved. That I was good at. And that was about to give me an amazing premotion. I quit it for you. But then I had to sell my car because, without my job, I couldn't afford repairs. Then you got pregnant. And when you were six months pregnant, we just had to move. Because the city that we had to move in was the only place that had the health benefits you believed I needed."

"But aren't you happy with what I've done?" Primrose asked, furrowing her brows. "We now have everything we could ask for here! I now run an amazing school that our daughter will soon attend!"

"That's another thing I want to discuss!" Sean pointed out. "Since our daughter was born, you've done absolutely nothing but govern her entire life. She's not allowed to wear certain clothes, get hobbies that actually interest her, or enjoy pretty much anything that kids nowadays would rather enjoy. I lost count of how many times I would see Dolly cry because of the fact that her own mother forbids her from being happy. I could probably go on, but I made up my mind. I want a divorce."

Sean set the divorce papers in front of a shocked Primrose. "You're leaving me!?" Primrose exclaimed. "How else am I supposed to make Roy jealous!?"

"There it is again, you complaining about this Roy Montgomery man that I know you still have unrequited feelings for!" Sean sighed. "I'm tired, Primrose! I'm tired of being compared to a man that I know who doesn't love you! I'm tired of having mine and our daughter's lives governed! I'm tired of seeing Dolly upset and all alone because she has no idea how to explain to the other kids that her mother is too controlling! You and I are both old enough to understand that this marriage is far from healthy! I'm not having Dolly see this relationship as her example of what to expect! I'd rather have her grow up to be a spinster if it mean she could avoid wasting her life on misery like this!"

"Sean, let's just talk this out," Primrose was getting desperate. "We can try counseling together!"

"I thought of that too," Sean said. "But you know what? Even if counseling did help, what point is there for me to stay with someone who has no regard for others' emotions other than her own? We can, however, let Dolly decide who she wishes to live with. I'm not going to punish a child over a marriage that didn't work out."

"I did what was best for Dolly, for us!" Primrose cried. "You are being such an ungrateful jerk! But maybe Roy will be a better father for Dolly than you ever will!"

"The mansion is yours to keep," Sean said, dismissing the insults. "I'm taking most of the money. But don't worry, you'll still get by. After all, the only reason why we could afford this in the first place is because your parents paid for this mansion. I already signed the papers. Now, it's your turn to do so."

Primrose had a look on her face as though she had sucked on a lemon. But she caved in and signed the divorce papers.

"What will you tell Dolly?" Primrose asked, sneering. "She'll notice you're gone."

"Frankly, she's become quite aware that I was losing all my love for you," Sean sneered back. "Good luck trying to win Roy's heart." He smiled victoriously when his soon-to-be ex-wife's mouth became agape at that clapback.

Days later, the divorce was finally settled. Primrose would keep the mansion and the remaining money that was left for her, but Sean would keep most of the money which was $7.5,000,000,000. The judge allowed Dolly to decide which parent she would like to live in.

Four year old Dolly eyed both parents, feeling pressured to choose. With sheer force, she slowly pointed at Primrose, causing the woman to smirk victoriously.

If only Dolly knew what she was getting into…

Roy belongs to me.

I don't own Prim, Dolly, or Prim's ex-husband. The name of Dolly's dad is what I came up with.

[chronicallylatetotheparty]

Float Like A Butterfly... Chapter 5: So Last Season

Summary: Now that Adrien is no longer Chat Noir he doesn't have to get hit all the time. Unfortunately, his luck doesn't seem to have gotten the memo... Or has it?

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

"So, how're you holding up?"

"Please, Adrien, it's my mother! I'm positively ecstatic!"

"Exactly. It's your mother."

Chloe looked down for a second before her eyes snapped back up, any doubts she had hidden in an instant. "She's finally coming back! I'll finally be able to show her what she's been missing." Chloe tossed her ponytail back to emphasize the unspoken Me. "Now, I've gotta go. Sabrina insisted we do an 'emotional support routine' or whatever beforehand. Ciao!"

Sighing, Adrien stared at his phone for a moment before putting it down. He knew Chloe was grateful for Sabrina's help but it was still a struggle getting her to admit it.

Or getting her to admit how much Audrey had hurt her.

It was one thing to travel halfway around the world for your career and leave your daughter behind. It was something else entirely to completely ignore her. In all the years since Audrey left Chloe hadn't received a single birthday gift, phone call or text message. Adrien would know. Chloe would've bragged about it endlessly if her mother had taken so much as two seconds to acknowledged her existence-

Adrien's foot jerked, striking the vanity table and making the connected mirror tremble. Heart suddenly pounding against his chest as tension built up in his forehead. Distressed expression reflecting back at him.

Breathe, Adrien. Breathe.

Slowly, he inhaled.

Then exhaled.

Again.

Good.

He was okay.

Adrien was okay.

Guilt pricked like a thorn for thinking of his own problems when Chloe needed him. Adrien crushed it with his anger and annoyance but it was still there. Like a splinter that wouldn't come out.

I hate you.

Swiping out of the video chat Adrien tapped on Nino's number. It rang... and rang... and rang...

He's annoyed with me. I did something wrong again and Nino doesn't want to-

Adrien smacked both sides of his face. No, dummy! Nino's just busy or something. Stop that!

It wasn't every day a teenage DJ provided the music for Paris Fashion Week, after all. Nino had to make sure all his equipment was working properly.

The door to his dressing room burst open.

"Adrien, your friend Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will be bringing the last article of the new Gabriel line," Nathalie announced. "Your father expects everything to be perfect for Audrey Bourgeois."

"Doesn't he always?" Adrien deadpanned.

Nathalie stared at his watery eyes before typing something into her tablet. "Your performance on catwalks only has a 99% success rate. He expects you'll do better."

Father thinks you're a failure just like everyone else. He-

Shut up! Adrien felt something heavy settle in his chest.

One of the makeup artists came rushing in and Nathalie gestured her towards Adrien. "Touch up his eyes," she instructed and then left.

Jaw clenching, Adrien sat perfectly still as the makeup artist did her job. He was never entirely sure what the staff thought about him. 'Professional' was a word that was tossed around a lot. That used to fill him with a little pride... Before all of this.

The last person to suggest that a thirteen year old mourning his mother wasn't 'professional' so much as he was 'depressed' had never come back to work... Oh. Adrien had forgotten about that.

Finishing quickly, the makeup artist left too. Leaving Adrien with his thoughts. He didn't want to be with his thoughts at the moment. They were distracting and Nathalie had not been subtle.

I hate-

His phone vibrated as it received someone's text.

Ni-Non: hey dude!

Ni-Non: it's crazy over here man

Ni-Non: break a leg! ;)

Adrien smiled as his unpleasant mood faded to the back of his mind... And if he saw similarities between his family and Chloe's, well, that's why he could empathize with her.

Adrien: That's theater but I guess there's not much difference.

Adrien: Thanks. ^_^

 ---------------

There was a knock at his door. Adrien stopped fidgeting in the awkward suit to go answer it.

"Hello, Marinette." Adrien smiled in greeting.

"Oh, uh, hello!" Marinette gave a small wave as she stepped up the short stairs and-

Adrien braced himself with one foot while his hands went to her shoulders. Steadying Marinette as she quickly removed her weight from him.

"Oh! Uh, sorry." Marinette looked away in embarrassment at having tripped into him.

"... No worries!" Adrien smiled as he shook his head. Marinette seemed... subdued. Reaching down to pick up the hat that had fallen. "Oh, no." The artificial feather Marinette made for his allergies had come loose. "I hope it's not too hard to fix it."

Marinette looked down. "Uh, y'know, it doesn't really matter. This hat is a complete failure anyway."

"What? No, it's not!" Adrien rose to his feet quickly in shock. "Why would you say that?"

"Because... the queen of fashion, Audrey Bourgeois, saw it and hated it!" Marinette's hands covered her face, voice breaking. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I really messed up. I'm a total no talent!" Her arms wrapped around herself in a hug. "Please, don't put it on," she pleaded.

Adrien's heart went out to Marinette as she laid her insecurities bare. "Marinette, everything's going to be fine." He searched for the proper spot to reattach the feather,  fiddling with it as Adrien reassured her. "Your hat looks great. I think it's awesome and so does... my father." Adrien cleared his throat as he managed to fix her hat. "Otherwise he wouldn't have picked it for me. Look!"

Putting Marinette's hat on Adrien walked across the dressing room like he was already performing. Striking a few poses to ease Marinette's anxiety. "See?"

It seemed to work as Marinette gave a small smile. "You got that catwalk down," she complimented.

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. "Really? Thank you."

"Ah-hem," Nathalie cleared her throat. "We have to go." Without waiting for Marinette she turned on her heel and started walking towards the viewing area.

Adrien rolled his eyes but smiled at Marinette's back as she hurried to catch up. Turning back to look at himself in the mirror Adrien scanned his outfit. The suit may have been generic and a few seams too close to last year's entry but Marinette's hat was fire.

"Okay!" Adrien was gonna go out there and make sure they recognized Marinette's talent!

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

Holding Marinette's hat to his chest Adrien stuck his head out in a decidedly 'unprofessional' manner. Spotting Marinette's family and a bunch of his friends in the first row. Adrien's blond head caught Nino's eye from across the catwalk and he gave him a thumbs up.

Adrien waved as he ducked back behind the corner before the photographers could take any pictures of the Agreste heir acting like a kid.

You got this, Adrien. Nino's DJ-ing, your classmates came -even though most of them don't care about fashion- with any luck Alix and Kim will tease you about it for the next month.

That would give Adrien the opportunity to dish out a bunch of jokes he never got the chance to use!

The music started; that was his cue.

You got this!

Adrien posed on the runway. Camera flashes already starting. Strutting down the catwalk Adrien smirked at Marinette. See? Stopping at the platform's end he posed in various angles for the photographers. Nino seemed to be enjoying himself too and that made Adrien's smile come much more naturally.

A small eruption boomed behind him and Adrien turned to see Hawkmoth's latest fashion disaster. Gasping, as his heart started hammering in his chest.

"A fashion show without the Queen of Style!? Glitter-ally unacceptable!" The akuma villain announced. "Where's that ungrateful Gabriel Agreste. I demand that he kneels before me!"

Ugh, what has he done now?

"My father isn't here," Adrien snapped in annoyance. Hearing people running for the exits.

"Well, then. If fashion disaster daddy isn't here I'll just have to settle for Agreste Junior! You're fired!"

Adrien's eyes widened as he stepped back. Golden glitter exploding everywhere as his body became numb and his senses dark-

-Glowing ladybugs swirled around him as Adrien had the disorienting feeling of laying  down when he could've sworn he'd been standing. Glancing around, Adrien realized he was now at the Eiffel Tower.

"Adrik- Adrien!" Chloe tackled him as he stood, throwing her arms around him. "I was so scared!"

Adrien blinked in surprise as Chloe set her head on his shoulder. Not letting him go... Adrien smiled as he hugged her back. Enjoying this genuine display of affection.

"Pound it!"

Head snapping towards the sound Adrien saw another Black Cat, this one a girl with long, reddish hair, fist bump Ladybug. They grinned at each other in post battle relief.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

A chill to rival Frozer's ice covered Adrien from head to toe. It was one thing to see Ladybug working with a different Black Cat on the news. Quite another to have his replacement. Three. Frickin. Meters. In front of him!

Chloe didn't notice... Or rather Adrien didn't notice when she'd let go to help her mother. Who tried to fire her own daughter as thanks.

Adrien jerked his eyes away from the superhero duo-

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!

-Away from the Miraculous holders and forced himself to listen to whatever the Bourgeois were saying. Ears ringing as Ladybug and the Black Cat talked about something behind him...

"Oh, mom. If only you knew what a great team we made!" Chloe trailed after her mother as they walked down the tower's stairs; attempting to capture her attention. "We fired a bunch of incompetents. It was awesome. We should really spend more time together! What if I went back to New York with you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Casserole- Eh, Chloe!" Audrey dismissed. "First I have to get back to Gabriel Agreste's fashion show. And they better..."

Adrien's eyes narrowed as he looked down from the railing, his grip on it tightening. Heat from a growing indignation melting the ice he felt. What did she just call Chloe?

"Adrien Agreste, right? I can give you a lift back if you want."

His tensed body jerked in surprise as Adrien realized Ladybug was standing right behind him. Throat and chest constricting as his thoughts whirled. Spots darkened his vision as he felt lightheaded. Adrien's knuckles becoming white, the metal railing digging into his skin. A single thought rose above the ringing in his ears.

I don't wanna talk to her.

Giving his best model smile, Adrien schooled his features. "Ah, thanks but-" he pointed down, "-I should really check on them."

"O-oh! Of course!"

Ladybug's face was out of focus but Adrien could still feel the melancholy in her voice.

Powering past his queasy stomach Adrien made his way to the stairs. The sound of Ladybug's yo-yo whirring reached his ears; signaling her departure. Adrien took a shuddering gasp as he leaned against a metal pillar for support. Body suddenly limp.

Breath accelerating Adrien tried to calm himself. Why was he up here? Had- Had Audrey's blast mind controlled him? Again!? He couldn't breathe.

Adrien sank to his knees as he felt his skin crawl at the idea of that- that- asshole reaching into his mind and taking away his free will. He hated it! He HATED it!

Gasping as his rage broke him out of the panic, Adrien steadied his breathing... He wanted- no, needed to know what happened... Which meant getting up and moving forward... Forcing himself to his feet Adrien wiped the sweat from his brow and followed the others down.

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

"Remind me to tell your father to fire the person in charge of the Eiffel Tower elevators..." Audrie panted. "This is... unacceptable... utterly unacceptable!"

"Of course, mom. Oh!" Chloe glanced down to see what she'd stumbled on.

Adrien looked up as he fanned himself with Marinette's hat.

And dropped it.

He stared open mouthed at the small, black, octagonal box in Chloe's hands. Heartbeat leaping into his throat.

What the hell is THAT doing here!?

"Ooh! What's this?" Chloe turned the box around in her hands but didn't open it.

Adrien suddenly forgot his exhaustion and rushed to her side. The lie coming easily to his lips. "Oh, I recognize that! They sell them at antique shops."

"Ew, it's old! Get it away from me!" Chloe practically hurled it at Adrien.

Catching it easily. A thrill ran up Adrien's arms and down his spine as the box made contact with his skin. The hairs at the back of his neck standing on end.

Chloe dusted her hands and kept walking. Glancing nervously at her mother. Hoping Audrey hadn't seen her with something so outdated.

I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! The voice in his head said.

Shut up, Adrien told it as he stared at the unknown Miraculous in his hand. Heartbeat hammering in his chest. But it wasn't from fear. No, it was... anticipation.

The corners of Adrien's lips curled upwards.

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

Notes: Oh, would you look at that. I'm back! It only took... eight months!

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter One

Master List

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x OFC Baast’Mal

Warnings: I'm making this up as a go, Canon divergent from the series during chapter 13, mild violence

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn't do it on purpose, but I'm new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I'm trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We'll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

In the sweltering heat of the jungle, Din Djarin crouched to better scan for tracks in the rotting foliage at the base of the tall trees. Pools of light made it difficult to adjust correctly for the shadowy depths; add in the thermal activity of the plants and animals in this stinking sewer of a planet, and he was having a hard time tracking his quarry. 

When he'd accepted the puck, he hadn't known what he was getting into as her chain code was surprisingly sparse. The only additional information he had was her name - Taa Marel - her last known location and face. 

And what a face. Even on a holo, she was stunning, not that the Mandalorian would let that sway him one way or the other. 

He'd tracked the stolen ship from Bogano, where she'd initially been hiding out to this skug hole of a world that was made to torment men in beskar, causing them to swelter in their helmet.

The kid, however, loved the place. 

Constantly cooing, riding in his pouch, he touched everything he could get his chubby green fingers on. Leaves, flowers, bugs; those, of course, went straight in his mouth. By this point, Mando accepted the womp rat could and would eat just about anything.

Upon arrival, they'd found the ship nose down, destroyed, and abandoned, but the crash landing had created just enough space for Mando to set the Razor Crest down. Then the hunt began.

After three hours of slogging through the heat, he was ready to kill her. After four, he decided death was too good for someone who made him sweat this hard. After five, he was determined to make her suffer. But they were closing in. He could feel it like an ache in his bones.

Tracks led forward, but something didn't sit right with that. They were too obvious. After hours of following such a well-covered trail, this was an insult to his skills. Footprints led straight down a game trail like a beacon meant to lure him astray.

It wasn't right, too easy by far, and the skin on his nape crawled.

He looked up, straight into the eyes of the woman he was hunting. Even through the distorted colour of heat vision, he could see they were a vibrant green.

He moved on instinct, whipcord shooting out, wrapping around her shoulders, and dragging her out of the tree.

She screamed the battle cry of a hunting cat, an inhuman sound before she twisted mid-air and landed lightly, crouched but on her feet. 

"Taa Marel, I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold," he warned her, hand hovering over his blaster.

"That is not my name. And I choose option three."

Her voice kicked him in the groin and made his dick twitch. Stunned, he could only watch as her hands came up and nails like talons shredded his whipcord. 

Someone had left a few things out of her chain code.

"Put the child down."

Mando blinked. "Why would I do that?" 

What did she want with his foundling? Had she heard about him? Would she attempt to take him? 

"I intend to kick your ass, Mandalorian, but I do not hurt children. Put him down."

Surprised, Mando reached for the strap across his chest instead of his blaster. "You're not going to run?"

She lifted a proud chin. "You will continue to hunt me. I would rather die than return to that hell hole, but I will not go easy. I will fight."

She was beginning to impress him with more than just her face. 

Din lifted the strap over his head, his eyes fixed on the target, studying her outside of the holo he'd memorized. 

She stood with her chin raised, body slightly turned in a stance that bespoke proper training. If one could call it that, her green tunic had no sleeves, crossed over her breasts, tied just beneath them, and ended a few inches thereafter, baring the wealth of sun-darkened skin over tightly packed muscles. Pants hugged slim hips, billowed at her thighs, and tied tight to her calves thanks to the soft, short boots that went to her knee. 

Sweat gave her a sheen that made her glow, her vibrant eyes shadowed behind thick, long lashes. Her face was a treasure trove of sculpted brows, sharp nose, and high cheekbones over lips that looked like ripe fruit, begging for teeth. 

A mass of hair, the colour of sand, fell in heavy waves to her hips. It began to darken toward the tips until it was as black as the deepest corner of space.

As he moved the kid, she untied a thin cord from her wrist and slowly began to bind her hair in a low tail.

He'd never met a woman like her, a bounty like her, ever. This one - fugitive or not - had honour in her.

The kid cooed and waved. Her lips twitched into a smile as she winked and waved back.

"Fear not, Mandalorian. Should I kill you today, I will raise your foundling as my own."

Din's blood ran cold. "You won't get the chance."

He hung the child's satchel on a low tree knot and drew the beskar spear from his back in the same motion. Though he'd won the spear from magistrate Morgan Elsbeth on Corvus and helped the Jedi Ahsoka Tano defeat her forces, the Jedi held no answers when it came to the kid. Though, Din wondered if that had more to do with him than the little green monster. She'd told him to seek another Jedi, someone with more training than she, but had given him no direction in which to search.

"He is rather cute," she smirked. "But his kind age so slowly. You will be long dead before he is grown."

Mando paused. "You know of his kind?"

She arched a brow. "You do not?"

He lowered the spear and held up his off-hand. "I am tasked with returning him to his people."

Her posture never changed, but her eyes filled with sorrow. "He has no more people. The last of his kind, or what was thought to be the last, died some years ago. Master Yoda was his name."

"I'm to help him find the Jedi," Mando murmured.

Her eyes lost their sadness. "I cannot help you."

"Will not."

"They are one and the same," she whispered. 

Lightning fast, she rushed him. Mando barely blocked the first swipe of her claws before the second clanged off his pauldron. He used the spear's shaft to knock her back, even as she kicked him in the ribs, bypassing the beskar.

"Do you know the life you condemn me to, Mandalorian, if you return me to that horrible place?" she asked, crouched once again, a few feet away.

"You're a bounty. I don't make deals," he stated, watching his quarry while keeping his body between her and the kid. His ribs smarted, but he'd had worse.

"No. You just work for the people who Purged your planet!" she spat, leaping and clawing. 

She was fast, damn fast. Barely able to keep up, it was all Mando could do not to lose ground until he saw an opening and swept the butt of the spear at her leg.

She jumped back, breath coming hard.

"I didn't ask who the bounty was for." Greef Karga offered him the chance for a big payday, and right now, they could use it.

"You work for the Empire," she sneered. "Returning me to torture and experimentation. Do you think I was always like this!?" She stood and held out her arms, flexing fingers tipped in dark claws. She bared her teeth, revealing wicked-looking canines, then lifted a portion of hair to reveal a sharply pointed ear.

Again he paused, a thing unheard of, to ask, "What are you?" Her chain code said human, but she was certainly not that.

Her proud chin lifted in defiance. "Do you know what a Zentari is, Mandalorian?"

Din inhaled sharply. "That's not possible. They were wiped out."

"All but one. I am Baast'mal, last of the Zentari. The Empire took me as a child and used my gift to ruin me. They bound my blood to the Corellian Sand Panther and Manka Cat. They have so thoroughly defiled my biorhythms that if the constellations were kind enough to cross my path with that of my mate, I do not know if I could bond with him." Pain flickered across her features. "I am sullied, broken. I am a monster," she whispered before shaking herself free of the melancholia and raising that proud chin once more. "So kill me if you can, Mandalorian, for I will not go willingly."

The beskar spear fell from his fingers as Din dropped to a knee and bowed his head. "I am a Child of the Watch. I must offer aid, Zentari. This is the Way."

"The Way?" She took a step back. "The Mandalorians no longer follow the Old Ways. They no longer conceal their face from all but their riduur and ad. The creed is long dead."

He shook his head. "My Tribe is one of zealots. We hold to the old ways of Mandalore. I only recently learned of this as I was raised with them in hiding. The Purge took much, but the ways of the Zentari are remembered in the covert."

She hesitated, eyes wary. "I have faced Mandalorians before. They knew not the Way."

Din stripped his gloves from his hands and held them out, palms up as if catching water. He raised them above his head and brought them down over his helmet, appearing to another as if he washed with air. "Zentari of the Bright Star, may the constellations bless this warrior with a treasure greater than beskar that they would be mine. Cyar'ika. Ka'rta. Riduur."

She inhaled sharply. He watched her fight tears, lip trembling before she closed the distance between them and knelt. She dipped her fingers into his cupped palms as if they held water, brought them to her brow and stroked them down over her eyes and out along her cheeks. 

Her hands shook as she lifted them toward his helmet and laid her palms lightly on the sides of the beskar. 

His hands gently grasped her wrists, her skin warm and soft beneath his fingers. She wouldn't remove it, that he was sure of, but it was an instinct he couldn't deny when someone touched his helmet.

Her voice was whisper soft when she spoke. "Mandalorian, Holder of the Creed, blessed of the constellations. May you raise warriors strong in the Way and find your riduur. Your cyar'ika. Your ka'rta." 

"This is the Way," he murmured, shaken by the encounter.

"This is the Way," she agreed as she drew him forward until his helmet lightly kissed her brow.

The shudder that raced through her raced through him with equal intensity. The Zentari race was a myth, a legend, a beautiful dream. They were so lost to time Din felt like his heart would burst with joy. 

"Have you ever removed your helmet, Mando?" she asked softly.

The shortened form of address made his heart skip. "Not before any living thing." The Droid on Nevarro didn't count, and no matter what Bo'Katan said, the creed was his way. He would never show his face to any besides his wife or children. 

Let Koska scoff as she liked at his traditions. She had not found a Zentari. She likely wouldn't know what to do with the Zentari if she did.

Din rocked back on his toes and pushed to his feet, surprised when she followed him with equal grace. "Zentari, we should return to my ship. The Alor will want to meet you. The covert will rejoice."

"Baast."

He froze as her hands landed lightly on his beskar covered chest. "What?"

"To you, I am Baast." She stared into his visor as if able to see his eyes. 

"Baast," he murmured, wishing he could speak her name without the modulator.

"Yes, Din Djarin," she smiled. 

He still held her wrists, and his hands became her shackles. "How do you know that name?" he demanded.

Long lashes swept her cheeks, a coy smile curling her lips. "Grogu told me."

His grip tightened more. "Who is Grogu?" 

She tilted her head to look past him at the kid cooing at them. "He is Grogu."

"You can understand him?" Din asked, his shock registering even through the modulator. 

"Not in words, but he speaks to those who can listen. Images. Impressions. The Force is strong in him," she smiled at Grogu. "He loves you."

"He's okay." Mando was grateful for the helmet that hid his foolish grin.

"You fool no one," Baast chuckled. She gently twisted her wrists, reminding him of her bondage. 

He let her go and stepped back to pick up the spear. 

"You are a man blessed of beskar," she murmured. "You must be a great hunter."

"Something like that," he murmured. It still shamed him how he'd acquired his armour, but if he hadn't turned in the kid - Grogu - he wouldn't have been as well-equipped to get him back and keep him safe as they ran from the Empire.

Baast headed for Grogu, her smile growing as she lifted down his carrier and situated the baby against her chest. Grogu giggled and babbled something Mando didn't understand.

"Oh, I see," Baast chuckled, casting a side-eye his direction.

"What?" Mando muttered.

"Clan of the Mudhorn. A clan of two." She flicked her claws over his sigil. "I wondered. Grogu explained."

Mando glared at the kid- Grogu. "Don't tell her all my secrets."

Grogu cooed. Baast cuddled him and smiled slyly. By that look, he was pretty sure it was too late for his secrets.

He turned to go, heading back the way he'd come. It would take hours to return to the Razor Crest, and it was already getting dark. 

***

They didn't make it back to the ship before nightfall, but he found a hollow tree in which to spend the dark hours. Creeper vines had choked the life out of the behemoth, leaving them in a cage of vines and dry, dead bark with a wealth of firewood to choose from. 

The fire burned brightly, drafting well, casting shadows across Baast's face and keeping the larger predators at bay. She slept curled around Grogu, lips gently parted. The air had finally cooled at sundown, but now he could see the shivers and goosebumps developing on her flesh. 

Slowly, he leaned forward to remove the cape from his back. Then, just as quietly, he rose, rounded the fire, and draped it over her and Grogu. She stirred but didn't wake, and Din returned to his watch on the far side of the fire.

A Zentari. He could scarce believe it.

She was a myth made flesh—a beautiful dream. Once, when Mandalore still followed the old ways, Zentarus was where many warriors sought their mates, their most cherished riduur. 

A Zentari was always fast and strong and incredibly rare. They grew quickly but aged slowly, their years stretching out into eternity, some said. Fine in face and form, when they met their match, they bonded, taking on traits of the other and giving a few as well. 

A Mandalorian could live a very long time with a Zentari mate. 

But most Mandalorians came home empty-handed as a bond with a Zentari could not be forced, but those who the stars smiled upon, those most blessed with a cherished mate, bonded in ways that grew legends. It was said their children were the most incredible of warriors.

Baast'mal was everything he imagined when told stories of Zentari as a child new to the Tribe. It didn't hurt that she was the most mesh'la female he'd ever seen. Fast. Strong. Deadly. He wondered at what the Empire had done to her, how they could force the blood bonds on Sand Panthers and Manka cats, and just what other mutations they'd caused.

He also wondered at her Force sensitivity. What she felt or even what she could do had not been discussed, but Mando knew there was more to her than he had yet discovered. 

But it was the ache in him, the growing need to once again touch her skin that concerned him. 

It was primal. Feral. It clawed at him. It had him itching to be closer - much closer - to her. He wanted to show her his face and hope she found him as pleasing as he did her. 

Din had nothing to go by in comparison. He'd seen his reflection before, of course, but he had no way of knowing if a woman would think him handsome. He'd had encounters before, ones in which everyone walked away satisfied, some paid for, others freely offered, but the helmet and the beskar never came off.

With her, he wanted to be bare, stripped off all trappings. Din wanted to feel his naked skin against hers. He wanted to taste it.

"You are a very loud thinker," she mumbled, bright eyes glowing softly beyond the fire. 

Mortification filled him. "I'm sorry, I-"

"I do not know your thoughts, Mando," she clarified, "just feel a gentle buzzing from the beskar. It restricts what I pick up from you."

Relief almost had him sagging. Baast closed her eyes, but he was loath to let the conversation end. 

"How old are you?" She looked young, maybe twenty-five.

Her brow twitched, amusement in her smile. "It is rude to ask."

"I wondered how long the Empire had you," he explained. 

Shadows darkened her eyes. "Forty years."

"But they've only been around for thirty," he frowned.

She gave a hollow laugh and sat up. "They have been around much, much longer. I remember the day they came for us. They slaughtered all who fought, men and women. Every child they could catch was rounded up and taken away." She looked away, down at dark claws. "I was the only Zentari to survive the experiments."

"I'm sorry." He was. "I know what it's like to lose everything."

She tilted her head. "You were a foundling."

It wasn't a question, and Din didn't answer her.

"They began experimenting with my blood almost immediately. I was ten when they bound traits of the Manka to me. I was fifteen when they brought in the Panther."

"How? Why?"

Her eyes burned into his. "Because they could." She flexed her fingers. "Because they are depraved. Because they are monsters, who turn others into abominations."

"You're not."

She looked at him in surprise.

Din shifted until he stood and made his way around to her side, where he offered his hand. Baast took it and joined him in the shadows as he led her a few steps away from Grogu. He stripped his gloves from his hands, the need to touch her no longer under his control.

Slowly, he reached up to caress her cheek. He pushed her hair back, revealing the pointed tip of her ear. Her eyes gleamed from behind heavy lids when he stroked his fingers down her tricep and finally cupped her elbow.

He closed his opposite hand around her nape; his thumb pressed to her spiking pulse. "You are no monster."

"My blood is sullied."

"Perhaps. But you remain unbroken," he murmured. "You lived. You escaped. Mesh'la, you are a beacon of shining hope to my Tribe. If there is one Zentari, perhaps there are others."

She closed her eyes. "There is not."

"How do you know?"

A tear trickled down her cheek. "I felt the last die three years ago. It was what gave me the strength to escape."

"Mishuk gotal'u meshuroke, pako kyore," he murmured, rubbing his thumb on her pulse.

"Pressure makes gems; ease makes decay?" A small smile twitched her lips. "Am I a gem, Mando?"

"No." 

She arched an amused brow.

"You are something more precious than any gem," he murmured.

Colour dusted her cheeks. "A Mandalorian who has a way with words? I truly have seen it all," she teased.

He sighed and made sure it echoed through the modulator. "Get some rest." He attempted to move away, but she grabbed him by the belt.

"Stay."

"Baast?"

"Stay." She took his hand, led him closer to Grogu, encouraged him to sit against a fallen chunk of tree, and then curled up beside him, tucking herself under his arm.

"The beskar is too hard," he worried.

"No harder than a prison cell, and you are much warmer. I have not known the comfort of another since I was seven," she admitted.

He sighed again but gave in, curling his arm around her.

"Thank you for your cape."

"Hm."

Her chuckle was more of a low purr. When it rippled through him, Din swore he felt something inside him purr back.

Next Chapter

[icharchivist]

I was rewatching DGM hallow and I remembered that Lavi and Bookman occasionally engage in telepathic conversations. How come I've never seen this talked about more in all the years I've been in this fandom? This is really weird. Even most of the Noahs think it's weird/creepy when someone reads their thoughts/talks in their head. The more I think about the Bookman the creepier they get. I'm not implying they're evil. Just really weird. 1) Telepathic w/each other. 2) Not only against attachments-

2 but against having a heart (not even the past Jedi at their most radical taught padawans to not feel anything). 3) If Bookman and Lavi are the standard then they either think they're above humanity or hate humans or or just indifferent. 4) they have SO many secrets that they keep to themselves no matter what. 5) they will never feel loyalty for anyone/thing that doesn't further their own ambition and even then they can easily drop you like you mean nothing to them. 5) They routinely erase-

3 each other's minds and none of them remember their birth names. 6) they swap identities so many times their own growth as individuals is trivial. 7) Ever single (possible) bookman we have met has either exhibited creepy or hostile behaviour. 8) they take to neutrality so strongly you can question if they even think to care what will happen to them if the Earl's plans succeed. 9) Are they even self aware? I'm not expecting a complete disaster. But I am expecting the bookman to weird me out.

Okay so for the telepathy i will have to come back to it when i will re-read it bc i don’t really remember it in Hallow and I think the scene I think should be that one??? Is the fact that ii’m almost certain i remember it being confirmed that Lavi and Bookman talk a whole other language. Apparently the Bookmen would have had their own language and I think i remember that in the manga it was translated by having weird bubbles to specify they were talking in that language (and it is possible that, due to the fact the anime couldn’t just pull a new language that was a work around to still have one of their Bookmen conversation being visible using telepathy).

But i really don’t remember the scene in question in details so i will have to check that out again but I THINK it is Bookman Language related more than telepathy and that the telepathy was a way for the anime to translate it

THAT SAID if the idea of Telepathy is a thing (which tbh could still be??? Bookmen already messes with minds a lot with the whole deleting memories thing who knows the hell they can do) it could explain also a lot of much more silent looks that we kinda justified so far by “they know something we don’t”. It might have been conversations we missed. 

Still unsure though i’ll get back to that when i will properly have re-read those parts bc this is really intruiguing me now

I know the fandom had talked about the Bookman’s language though but i’ve never heard of telepathy before now?? Idk 

And yeah like you say this is very weird bc putting them on the same level as Wisely is... very weird. Besides considering how much Lavi still struggles to get people around him i am fairly certain that if telepathy there are it i between the Bookmen only, not all knowing as Wisely.

But yeah aside from that, mood. The Bookmen are seriously a creepy brunch. Not in a bad way, but in a “this is extremely shady and I get you’re doing that to be neutral but i’m not sure those means are actually legally or morally applicable”

I agree with all your points. 

and i’ll elaborate under cut bc i might have gone carried away,

well 1) i just discussed it there, either Telepathy which would be a whole new can of worm, or a whole other language that would still applies that they have a special language to keep secrets in. And tbh it would also make sense that they would write down records in a secret language since they don’t actually let people Read their reccordings: Bookman specify that it comes with the part to “chat a lot”, they won’t share the written reccords (which they MUST HAVE for the the survival of the clan), so “Secret Language no one else in the world know” rings as shady to me.

4) NOT TO MENTION we know that Bookman also keeps secrets from Lavi (when meeting Cross’s altered akuma, Bookman specifies it was only something he (and Cross) knew about.). And it’s not to mention secrets that the Bookman in charge keeps from the rest of the Clan (see again, how Lavi’s eye is only known by Bookman Sr, not anyone else in the clan seems aware of that)

6) Apparently about their switching identities, something very creepy that came out of the latest Komui corner too is that the name they have during a war is the name that the recording will officially get. Meaning it’s not even that “Lavi” calls himself like that for the people around him, it’s that even after Jr would have moved on or died or anything, the Records of the Holy War would still be called “Lavi”. And we know that the names picked seems to have meaning that applies to each wars (as Wisely smugly smile realizing Lavi’s name’s meaning, but doesn’t tell people). So even more of a disconnect with their sense of humanity since they have to be distanced from their own names, as their names become history as it goes. Which makes Jr’s identity crisis over how “Lavi” is “him” even more creepy tbh, bc it extends that “Lavi” isn’t just a reccord name anymore, it is not just the Holy War anymore, it is part of Jr as a BEING. And to me that’s even creepier that it’s even something Lavi has to worry about.

8) this is honestly one of my biggest questions. If the Earl’s plans work, all humanity will die. Or at least there had been no mention so far of any “saved people that would go through the Ark”. (there had been speculations about the real purpose of the Akuma and how its evolution process would be perhaps a part in creating supperior beings to salvage during the Flood like the original Ark did, and i’ll need to get back to the chapters tha thints that there are more secrets to the Dark Matter than it just reversing the innocence, BUT personally I have issues with this theory because of how easily the Noah do torture and kill the Akuma at times and seem to look down on them. But I would agree there seems to be a bigger purpose to the Akuma and the Dark Matter that we cannot even imagine.)Regardless, I don’t see anyway for the Bookmen Clan to survive, else the Noah would have found way to keep them on their sides and not torture them like they do now and exclude them. Yet we know at some points the Bookmen were “on the Noah’s side”. So what the hell do the Bookmen expect to happen with the Flood? Is their neutrality so important that they are ready to litteraly go down with this ship when the end of the world come? Yet we know they have some self preservating instinct it seems, so why? It just enerves me so much!

9) Yeah same, basically.

One last thing i will add: How the HELL did Bookman manage to find himself and Lavi innocences he knew they would be accomodator to when they decided to join the Order? Bc the Corner mentions that Bookman decided to set them into the Order to watch BEFORE they even got in contact with the innocences, and Lavi mentions that “Gramps just knew we’ll find innocences we would be compatible with” and how????? How the hell??? You can’t just make it that easy for the two of them to randomly connect with two random innocences (and we know they’re the one who have shown the least actual connection with the innocence) after arcs and arcs proving that the innocence is picky and sentient, that its own personality affects who they end up picking, that even the synch can change depending of how the innocence feel to their acomodator, and Especially, that the Order had DECADES of experimentations that were basic human rights violation due to how desperate they were to not be able to have enough people synchronizing with the innocence.

You  cannot have a full arc of telling us the Order did an entiere experiment about bringing fallen exorcists’s brains back in new bodies in hope the innocence would synch with said bodies, while letting those bodies decay under the pain of the innocence, for the sLIGHT CHANCE an innocence could be compatible again, only to then tell us “oh yeah we wanted to join the order so we ended up finding two innocences that we could connect to.”

For exemple: Take the Crows. it’s obvious the Crows want to help the holy war, as the Third Exorcist project proved a whole brunch of people were ready to put Dark Matter in their body to fight back the Akuma. And from all those Crows, from all the experiments we know the Order have carried on, somehow, as long as we don’t know of a “Former Crow Exorcist”, it means it’s not that easy. Not when you have a whole military branch who would be willing to be God’s apostles. And it’s not even counting how others Orders’s soldiers like the Finders would or not jump on the occasion.

So how the hell did they do that? How the hell did Bookman find those? bc even if they don’t connect to their innocence on an emotional level, they seem like proper innocence. Else Allen would have commented about how the souls don’t disappear like planned, like when he saw how the Third Exorcists killed the Akuma. Besides, we also know Bookman fears Lavi’s innocence could turn into a crystal type, so it confirms this is legit innocence, and that Bookman doesn’t have full controle over it.

How could Bookman be so sure they will become accomodator BEFORE finding any innocences? It raises seriously worrying implications considering all we know about the innocence and how hard it is to find accomodators for it this far in the saga. 

*take s a deep breath* anyway that said,

tbh part of me understand the feeling of “wanting to disconnect your feelings” when you watch history happens, because history is goddamn overwhelming. For having studied history for a few years i’ve personally had a few breakdown just over thinking about the amounts of horrors you read about one year after the other, so to have to remember all those horrors AND reccord current horrors, I understand in principle the thought that shutting those emotions down is the easiest way to record it. 

In principle.

Because in practice this is (a lot like you compared) nearly impossible witout losing their humanity and even losing perhaps an important part of how to understand and translate human experiences through emotional lenses. That’s the major issue with this logic.

had they done that for so long they don’t even question it? Or are they perfectly aware that it’s exactly why they cannot afford emotions? what are their view on the world and it coming to an end? How far are they willing to go in order to keep their own secrecy and status squo? Do they even realize the possible irony of them “not meedling with history” while the only fact that they are meddling by taking the dispositions they do to remain hidden/uninvolved? Not to mention that wanting it or not, Bookman and Lavi had meddled in the Holy War. Would they remain fully neutral, Bookman wouldn’t have had to tell everything he knew about the Noah to Komui in his first appearance for exemple. 

Lately it seems like they seem more interested in the Noah losing (self preservation kicking in) but that does raise the question of how far they are willing to share the secret history and how much is considered “medding with history”? Because this “secret knowledge no one should have” IS changing the course of history by being shared.

Do they even realize or do they really see themselves as walking books who can deliver information if pressed a the condition it doesn’t require to dig in their secrets? Where do they draw the lines?

I have HUNDREDS of questions about the Bookmen and it drives me insane. I won’t exclude that i might be overthinking it bc man, gotta wait between chapters huh, and that perhaps it won’t be that complicated or deep, but the more you get to see how shady the Bookmen are the more you wonder how and why?

Anyway that fascinates me. Bookmen pls unlock your secrets,,

[sayleeofkanto]

Hey! I'm a big fan of your nuzlocke run, and want to try one on my own now. Because your story's are so emotionally and thought through, like every little detail could be important later, and your world building is amazing. I'm happy every timewhen I see you posted a new chapter. Do you have a few tips to make a nuzlocke run successfully into a story? How to you don't get confused over so many details and people?

Ahhh, thank you so much! Glad to hear that you’re writing your own! I would like to recommend joining the Nuzlocke Forums--the community’s wonderful and very supportive while you’re posting your story!

So here’s my best tips that I’ve figured out over the past few years:

Play the whole run before you start writing the story proper, but take EXTENSIVE notes while you play. Who you catch and where, where and how deaths happened, where and how evolutions happened, details on how major battles went, but also particularly funny conversations with NPCs, interesting game landmarks, close encounters with trainers or wild Pokemon, etc. I’ve recently started outlining chapters as I play, but I already have a pretty sizeable world built XP If you’re writing your first story, you’re probably gonna discover the worldbuilding as you play and note. How many deaths you have and who kills them is definitely gonna influence parts of the story as you have to decide how and why those deaths happen. Knowing who lives and who dies is also helpful for planning what Pokemon to feature in your story--I’ve tried in the past to introduce every Pokemon I ever caught, but unless you have a distinct idea for what to do with the Pokemon you never use, better to stick with fleshing out the Pokemon who serve on your team. You can catch a Pokemon early in the game and only introduce them later in the story when they join your team after a death if you want, even if you’re introducing them in-story in a wildly different area to where you caught them ingame!

Give EVERY character a goal. Even if it never comes up in the story, make sure YOU know what every character’s goals are, and that these inform their actions. Even if your Pokemon don’t speak or don’t have human intelligence, give them goals, even if they’re simple ones like “getting scratches” or “having fights”. 

For that matter, it can be a fun exercise to figure out the life stories of a lot of characters, even if they’re not important. It’s a good rule of thumb for you to know a ton of information about both your characters and the world that might never appear in the story--but it’s good for YOU to know it, as the writer. 

Don’t ever force in information where it doesn’t need to be. Don’t open with a long explanation of your main character’s life story (I have been guilty of this) or every detail of the world. Just get your characters talking and let details come out as and when they’re relevant! Don’t make characters explain things they already know to each other--only explain things to characters who have reason to not already know! It’s very tempting to babble on about the details of your world, I know, but you’ve got some built-in interesting mysteries if the characters talk about a subject or person without explaining all the details for the reader, and y’know, readers are pretty smart. We like figuring things out from context clues!

Okay, so the secret to keeping track of huge numbers of characters: SPREADSHEETS. Here’s the one I use to keep track of Pokemon:

I use this as I’m writing--grey denotes dead Pokemon, blue current team members. 

Here’s the one I use to keep track of characters, with some spoilers for stuff coming after Dimensional Destruction redacted:

So if that’s pretty small, basically for ever character I have their title if they have one (Professor/Doctor/Marchioness/etc), surname, married name (if different), forename, nickname, if they’re an avatar (this is particular to my storyworld and how the god/human relationship works), the year of their birth (in my story’s year numbering) and their age at various important story events and during different fics. The outlined boxes are the character’s age during a story where they’re particularly relevant--for example, I’ve outlined Cyrus’ age during Dimensional Destruction only, but Burgh’s for the years of both Unova fics. There’s a bunch of other tabs on this spreadsheet to list leaders/E4/champion in different regions at different times, family trees, etc. I’m shit with numbers so this is great for helping me keep track of my own made-up year system that I felt pedantically compelled to make up, ages, when shit happens... for Dimensional Destruction and Deliverance, to keep them aligned, Key and I wrote a day-by-day calendar. How much detail you feel you need is up to you, but this is how I manage all the information.

Speaking of Key, this is my number #1 tip for success: have a writing buddy. Somebody you chat to as much as possible--Key and I talk pretty much every day and have for years, and lately so do Bri (writer of Eye of the Beholder, which is an all-around great story and particularly a great example of how to do a “protagonist from another world” story without getting too info-dumpy) and I, and it really is the best way both to keep your own juices flowing and to come up with ideas. Talk to somebody you feel safe to share ideas you’re nervous about with so they can help you figure them out. Talk to somebody you can share silly jokes with and then take far too seriously (aka how Johanna ended up marrying Byron--”haha Silver really looks like a younger Roark doesn’t he lol”). Talk to somebody you can babble AT LENGTH at about your latest idea and will enthuse about every word. Talk to somebody whose story you love reading and love hearing their story babble ideas about. Inspire each other and have fun :D

Read a lot of other nuzlockes, and try not to think “this is so much better than mine...” Instead, try to think “wow, that idea was really creative. This is how I’d do it...” Other nuzlockes can give you ideas for how to reinterpret things in the game, maybe things you hadn’t thought about trying to reinterpret! It really can help if you get stuck on where to take your story.

Write backwards. Know how things end, and then start working on how characters get there. If you have a distinct scene in your head, write it out and set it aside. Then, as you actually start writing the story, everything will change. That’s fine! Let it! Let the characters tell you what’s going on, then go back and add the foreshadowing.

Unless you’ve got something really, REALLY good, don’t try to explain how Escape Rope works. 

I hope some of these help! Send me a link when you start publishing your story, I’m excited to read it! Also, I just want to say that I love your Blue avatar a lot. SWAG.