#the child of many names

[nugsanart09-works]

A Flower, graveborne, Fallen from the sheer of hail, chased springtime beyond

Other (basic) variations below:

The more accurate version in accordance with the original source:

Beneath them layers of cloth is a cutie patootie, a skrunkly if you will

[jeffthegriller]

Hi sorry drops this and runs away

[royaltea000]

You’re my baby, say it to me

[somnoir]

first time giving a prompt

deaged!Danny (may include Dani, Dan and/or Jazz too if you like) given to Themyscira to be raised by Kronos (Clockwork). They were given a vague reason (they either might end the world or save it. kinda like the PJO Great Prophecy "to preserve or raze")

cause a boy/s is/are involved. They get sent to be raised by Diana instead

i just really want mom!Diana to happen

god I love mom!Diana so much! I need this woman to just pop up to the watchtower with her own baby and tell the others to fuck off cause, BATMAN HAS HIS BABIES I HAVE MINE!

Percy Jackson themes? Let's go!

Children of Diana - part 1

Kronos was always a mysterious and frightening figure in their stories. The father that devoured their children upon a prophecy of a throne to be taken by his child. Five had fallen into his stomach, Hestia of the hearth fell first, whilst Hades was the last to be eaten. Only by Rhea's cunning did their youngest, Zeus, survive his father's hunger and grow to be king.

But Kronos never truly stayed dead.

He was time embodied, moving with every universe, even as he melted away from their world and into another.

Hippolyta told her stories of Kronos, along with how she wished for a child and how her love for one allowed her to make Diana out of clay and give her blessing of goddesses to be a mother to a blessed daughter. Diana heard stories from her mother of everlasting Kronos who's name shifted with worlds, with his domain of time. How the titan has moved past from his children and embedded himself into the stars.

Diana heard of his stories but never in her lifetime did she expect to be met with that same Titan.

Her first instinct was to bow, to greet this almighty titan with the proper etiquette. But Kronos only smiled at her, snapping his fingers.

One moment Diana was Louvre, then next she was beside her mother in Themyscira.

"Diana!" Hippolyta blinked, bewildered to see her daughter before the atmosphere turned tense, cold.

Once again, the Amazons were graces—perhaps even cursed—with the Master of Time's presence.

"Kronos." Hippolyta sucked in a deep breath, her stance going rigid as she prepared to greet and attack their guest. "My lord..."

"Progeny of mine," Kronos wore a purple rone that shadowed his face, with a body that floated from the ground. In his hand was a peculiar staff with a glowing blue clock. "I have no trust in my children but... You Amazons are more sensible and responsible than my brats."

"Except for Hestia. I would trust her but she is too close to them for my liking." He drawled, startling Diana.

Hestia was the eldest of the traitors, the first to be eaten. She was still referred to as a traitor and yet there is evident fondness in Kronos' voice.

"Nevermind that." Kronos waved it off, "Pandora has claimed that you are trustworthy—" THE FIRST WOMAN PANDORA?! "So I shall trust you with this prophecy. Especially, Diana... Wonder Woman. You will prove essential to the fulfillment of this prophecy."

Diana's body stiffened, unable to help but grab her mother's hand. Blessed as she was, Hippolyta squeezed her daughter's hand, comforting and reassuring before they nodded and waited for the prophecy...

Kronos was smiling.

"From the death of youth, a monarch shall rise,

To fall, and rise again with time's reprise.

Brother and sister by the throne will stand,

Balance to bring, or doom to command.

Should the path be dark, the stars will weep,

For the universe's fate, the king shall keep."

Diana's breath hitched. The prophecy was... It was scary. She couldn't fathom it. From the lines alone, there was a possibility of the universe's doom... But it involves a king of sorts.

What did that entail?

Kronos was laughing now. "Be wary, Diana of Themyscira... The High King of the infinite realms and his siblings will arrive soon..."

"The infinite realms?!" Hippolyta almost looked faint.

"Yes. The king, his royal siblings the prince and princess have entered a new cycle. Their oldest royal sister is currently regent and unable to raise them in the realms."

Diana cleared her throat, "My apologies, but why is the regent unable to raise her siblings?"

"Regent Queen Jasmine Phantom died long ago. She is a full ghost whilst her siblings are epitomes of balance, both living and dead. As they are still very much alive, being in the realms for too long during their years of development is unhealthy for their constitutions." He explained, glancing at his staff.

"It is time."

Again, Diana was startled and almost lunged forward for more answers before her mother squeezed her hand again. Her breath caught, glancing back at her mother who sent her a warning glare.

"I wish you the best of luck, Diana." Kronos smiled, almost softly, "You will do well to raise my children. I am in your debt."

All at once, Diana was suddenly the mother of three and someone the Master of Time owed a debt too.

Diana had not expected to find three children in her home. Yes, she expected to find three individuals, but she had at least expected infants. Not three children who's ages varied.

"Hello..." The middle of the three said, blue eyes, black hair, scrawny and small.

"Hello." She softly said, looking around her apartment before crouching in front of the children with the softest smile she could ever give. "I am Diana. Could you give me your names, little ones?"

"Dante." The eldest of the three, with blue eyes that flashed red, grunted.

"Daniel but I go by Danny." The middle smiled, then gestures to the toddler that clung to Dante. "This one is Danielle but she likes to be called Ellie."

The girl waved at her, rosy cheeks with blue eyes pile her brothers.

"Clockwork said we had to come to you because our sister couldn't keep us in the realms. We're sorry for the trouble." Danny grimaces, genuinely apologetic and clasping his hands together.

"I told that bastard that we didn't need to be deaged or anything. But no! He kept saying that we needed a vacation or whatever." Dante scoffed, rolling his eyes before adjusting little Elle in his arms.

Diana saw the discomfort on the eldest's expression as he tried to adjust his little sister in his arms. She offered her service to him, gesturing for Dante to give the toddler to her, bur she received a growl and a glare from crimson eyes.

One of the boys was the king of the infinite realms turned into a child. The prophecy had clearly stated that the king would be joined by his sister and brother, so the possibility of little Ellie being the king was void. So it was between the boys then.

"Don't be mean, Dan! Miss Diana is already trying her best right now. I'll tell Clockwork and Aunt Pandora that you're being mean to their favorite." Danny snapped, swatting his brother's shoulders.

"It is alright, your majesties."

"Oh!" Danny flushed red, "No need for that. You don't have to!" He insisted, "I'm not king at the moment since Jasmine demanded we were given a break... I just didn't think that a break meant going through a new human cycle."

Diana's eyes softened, so Daniel was king. "I see... I do not mind being your caretaker, little ones. I have friends who have children, and I have found myself rather envious of them. Truthfully, I never expected to beae children myself but... My mother lost the ability to have one herself, and yet she made me from clay."

Dante nodded, "We've heard of your story. It's quite beautiful how your mother loved you so much, even when you were nothing but a dream... But she managed to make you reality with that love. It's quite inspiring."

Danny soon explained, "Our mortal mother died many years ago. She and our father were ghosts, citizens of the infinite realms before my siblings and I encouraged them to follow through with reincarnation. We would have had our eldest sister do the same, but she is more stubborn than our parents." The fond smile on his lips was one tinged by melancholy and longing.

Diana realized that these children were ripped away from what they called home, forced by their own sister for their sakes. Immortal monarchs were thought to be all powerful, undying and never needing rest.

Diana herself saw it as such, with how Zeus refused to relinquish his throne, of how his siblings and children attempted to usurp him the same way he did with Kronos.

But the royals of the infinite realms seemed to be of a different breed. The dead who were once mortal, living, before time caught up to them and their existences were given to the realms. That humanity seemed to be what made the Ghostly royals to be so... Extraordinary. Because it was clear to Diana that the regent Jasmine loved her kingly brother and royal siblings with all her heart. Especially when she was willing to sit upon the throne, carry the burden of monarch, for a life time. All because she wanted them to be given a chance at happiness.

Diana has heard stories of the realms, of how the previous king, a tyran named Pariah Dark, was defeated. Phantom became king through conquest and it was rumoured he had still been a child, still alive and only half dead, when he was given the crown.

"Well then..." She cleared her throat, smiling softly. "I hope that you will be able to live comfortably with me, little ones. I will not force you to see me as a mother, but I will do everything I can to be a proper caretaker. I will love and cherish you the same way my mother and sister did."

That statement alone seemed to have affected the three, enough that Dante relaxed.

The second time Diana tried to take Ellie from his arms, Dante sis not resist. He carefully tucked his sister into her arms, showing her how she liked to be held.

Ellie giggled, reach up to her and nuzzling her cheek against Diana's chest.

"Adorable." She whispered, kissing the little girl's forehead before turning back to her brothers. "May I know how old you currently are?"

"Physically or chronologically?"

Diana chuckled, "Physically."

"I'm ten. Danny's eight and Ellie's two." Dante explained, pointing to them each whenever he spoke. "But chronologically, we're around... Actually, I don't know. Time in the realms and time here is different. It's also different from our earth. So..."

"Ah, no need to explain if it's too confusing. I understand that time flows differently for everyone. Let us just say that you've existed for a few centuries, yes? Keep it vague for everyone else." Diana grinned, already thinking of how Batman would be utterly perplexed by that.

"Well then, let us get you settled in, yes? Unfortunately, I only have one guest room." Diana frowned, cooing at little Elle that tried to wiggle our of her grasp, "I was planning on moving soon since this part of Paris is a little too loud for me."

A little white lie. She'd have to ask Bruce for help of finding a new space in a short time.

The three looked suspicious, skeptical, and already feeling guilty. Diana was quick to act, ushering them to their rooms, asking them if they've eaten and what they'd like for dinner if not.

Aside from a new place, she needed to acquire herself some parenting books. Yes. Lots and lots of parenting books, especially if her children were eldritch beings.

Maybe Bruce had more experience in that field.

No, Diana, do not think like that. You're a mother now.

Especially when she was the mother of three while Bruce was only parenting one child. Though said child was now a rather rebellious fifteen year old.

Masterpost

[serv0z]

I got a lil silly with it guys youtube link below the cut :)

[f-ai-n]

(Fatui Adopt Kaeya AU)

Capitano gains a new fan (Childe) and Kaeya stays as his number one problem child.

(Childe's mug is originally Dottore's, but Kaeya stole it from his lab out of spite. Nobody was sedated dw 👍🏽✨)

[freyadragonlord]

How do I explain how married Han Yoojin and Sung Hyunje are in the post-epilogue Side Stories without sounding like I am exaggerating or making things up...

[ophii]

anyone up for a paranormal investigators au? basically, c.c. dies not because of michael/fredbear/freddys in general, and liz and mike survive. liz is a medium of sorts, very empathic and mike just. follows along. its basically a dead files au now that i think of it. he does the research, she talks to the ghosts. c.c. haunts freddys and tries to help them figure out what was up with their dad and those missing kids

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Party of one (divided into four)

[digital999placebo]

and I would've moved out there to be with you, I would've moved out there for real.

[starry-bi-sky]

how do you clone a fey? that's trick question; and fey love those!

@the-navistar-carol (<333) brought up a good point while I was talking about my changeling danny au with her -- Dani! How would she exist in this au? Danny's a changeling - a fae. How would Dani, a clone of him, be created? How do you make a fey? Not through any means that Vlad is doing; you can't make a fey through unnatural means, considering the Fair Folk are nature. And Vlad's not a fey himself -- he's a halfa, even if he could make a fey, it's not in his best interest too. He's a powerful ghost, but even the weakest fae can overpower the strongest ghost. He won't want a clone of Daniel to be more powerful than him.

(In a three tier hierarchy it goes Ancients -> Fae/Mythos -> Ghosts. They all live in the Infinite Realms, but on different Planes. The fae live above the Ghost Zone in the Fey Wild, while the Mythos live beside the Wilds or down in the ghost zone depending on where they are. Places like the Frozone, the Athens Acropolis, and other such large islands climb throughout all three Planes.)

(While Ghosts can travel into the Fey Wild, its generally advised against as the ectoplasm tends to manifest differently there due to close contact magic. It can make it rather disorientating for a ghost, and as human spirits, the Fae living there would jump them faster than they could blink. So unless you're willing to play mind games with 'steal thy name eat thy face' fae, most ghosts keep out of the way of the Wilds. Fey can travel down into the Ghost Zone, they just don't bother.)

That's of course, not taking into account if Vlad even knows Danny's a fae himself. Vlad doesn't ring me as someone who really cares much about ghost culture or the going ons of the GZ. He might be aware that fae exist, but the moment he realizes he can't use them for personal gain he just doesn't bother with them. The risk is greater than the reward, and he'd rather not get eaten. But lets assume he's aware by now that Danny is fey, and has to take that into account while cloning him.

So, how does Dani exist? Good question! Honestly; i'm not sure. She might not exist at all, or if she does, she's more halfa than fey. Vlad would need a lot of human dna and ectoplasm to balance out all that fae magic. He manages to steal DNA from Jack and Maddie to do it, and since Jack's fey ancestry is very dormant its much easier to use alongside Danny's DNA.

In turn, it results in a little girl whose more human-ghost hybrid than clone. With that little extra boost in fey magic making her not a fey, but still relatively powerful. Dani is less of a clone and more of a lab-grown little sister. It's a rather tedious, complex process that has Vlad tearing his hair out trying to figure out. But he does eventually figure it out.

[popponn]

a bit of red. [childe x reader]

summary: your nose was bleeding. all while Tartaglia never once looked away.

notes: childe is a feral battle maniac but has traits of a genuinely good husband material. the mix is a funny fatui guy. those are the only thoughts that exist as i write this down. warnings: light blood and injuries, sfw, blood licking, reader and childe’s relationship is best described as "complicated frenemies with something going on", reader’s gender unspecified.

“Oh, they got your face, huh?” Tartaglia asked, cheerful in a very wrong manner as he put a hand on your shoulder.

Without sparing him a glance, you could already feel the taunting smile in his tone. You gave him a muffled grunt as a reply, your hand still busy rubbing your bleeding nose as you glared at your own feet. You really should have paid more attention to that one guy with big wood.

Also, why didn't Traveler tell you she also asked for the Eleventh Harbinger's help for today? You really weren’t in the mood to spend alone time with him for—

“—are you listening?”

A hand grabbed your chin—rough and quick, yet not harsh enough to hurt you—pulling your head to turn to your side where Tartaglia had already stared at you with an unamused frown plastered on his face. You knew, logically, you should have slapped his hand away and gotten ready for combat—you have enough brain to remember that Tartaglia is a seasoned fighter and a shady person meshed into one no matter how friendly he acts towards you. Yet, at the same time, you found yourself blanking out the moment you met his eyes.

“Really, don't you at least know that you shouldn't rub your nose when it's bleeding? That's common sense, you know,” Tartaglia said to you. It felt like he was scolding you like a child.

You, whose head was still filled only with empty statics, could only reply to him with a dumbfounded blink. “Huh?”

Tartaglia raised an eyebrow, his face still wearing the uncharacteristically serious expression. “Come on—they didn’t hit your head that hard, did they? It was only a wood to your face, I had hit you with something harder than that.”

Which wasn't wrong. He pretty much already threw lightning bolts and hydro blades to your face numerous times during your regular scuffles with him.

“I…” you opened your mouth. You wanted to defend yourself, but you had to acknowledge the fact that what you did was indeed pretty dumb. “…I was not thinking.”

Hearing your response, Tartaglia looked at you exasperatedly. It should be insulting, considering it's Tartaglia—but seeing the obvious fondness in his face, you found yourself once again being unable to react much. Or perhaps, it was because of how you had come to notice that his hand had moved away from your chin, when he pressed his thumb lightly and softly against the skin above your lips, wiping off the blood that still trickled down from your nose with a lopsided smile befitting of his charming, youthful face. A few moments passed, and you continued to let him without any chirp of complaints.

Then, slowly, at some point, that smile shifted into a different one—wider, sharper—as his eyes darkened without moving away from your profile. “…well, the blood does suit you though.”

“Hu—?!”

Within a second, there was a mouth and a pair of lips on your face, right above your lips and below your nose, as you felt a hand forcefully drag you forward by your collars. It happened so quickly, sparing you not even a second to react as a tongue—Tartaglia’s—slithered out and licked a few droplets of blood off your face, smearing out some of them in the process. Your eyes were wide open as Tartaglia pushed his face against yours and dragged his lips down. Ending whatever the fuck he did with a light peck on your lips.

And when you finally find it in yourself to breathe and blink once again, Tartaglia’s face was already somewhere further away from yours. You still tried to process what just happened when you spotted the self-satisfied look he wore—not too full of his brand of odd brightness, all while the way he licked at his lips and wiped the leftover red away with his fingers told you enough. Faintly, you could still feel the heat of his hand from the tight grip he let remain on your clothes.

Tartaglia looked at the almost invisible red on his gloves for another moment. Silent with a look you were not quite ready to decipher just yet. Your whole body still stood stiff, frozen by something that was both surprising and pleasant that crawled through from the insides of your spine.

This was not the first time for the both of you to have your lips smashed against each other—but this would be the first time Tartaglia wore a look like that when doing so.

Good Archons.

“What the fuck, Childe.” You snarled at him, almost spitting in every syllable. You glared harshly at him, deciding to focus more on the stunt he just pulled instead of humoring the stupid thoughts your head was starting to come up with. You were not dealing with that when there were unconscious treasure hoarders laying around you in some foreign nation’s wilderness.

Tartaglia, hearing the way you angrily called him by his title, finally seemed to be back from whatever odd trance he just had. Within a blink, his expression switched into one that was far more innocent. A few creases away from confusion, but at least he still had enough decency to manage out a nervous laugh as he let go of your clothes. Still carrying his usual air of confidence, he rubbed the back of his head and offered you his usual smile—secretive and untelling no matter how sweet it looked.

“Wow—okay. I mean, sorry. I don’t know what suddenly got over me—ha ha ha!” Tartaglia apologized as if he was some adorable first date who got too much into the heat of the moment and kissed you. It would have been much cuter if he was not some rascal who just licked the blood on your face. As if it truly was something out of adolescent impulsiveness, Tartaglia took out a handkerchief and offered it to you. “Here, here—let me wipe that blood off you for a bit. Want me to press on your nose for you too? Oh, wait, do you need to sit—”

“That was disgusting. That's common sense,” you spat at him without making an attempt to stop him from dabbing his expensive silk handkerchief on your face, letting the young Harbinger step into your space once again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I really am! I really wanted to help you—I didn't mean for it go to like that!” Tartaglia insisted nonchalantly, repeating his apology as he swiped the fabric across your nose and cheeks. “But, yeah.”

You glared harder at his sudden pause, “But, yeah—what?”

“It really looks good on you,” Tartaglia said, breathlessly and honestly, never once stopping from tending your face as if he was caressing you. A sincere smile—resembling a loving one yet not quite one—etched itself on his lips as a shadow of something flashed along with it. Once again, it nearly stunned you again.

If only it wasn’t about you having a nosebleed.

Trying your best to not take a sharp, angry deep breath, you decided to grit your teeth instead. There were certainly many different thoughts that heat up your whole head for many each their own reasons. However, first thing first—

“Okay, we are done!” Tartaglia loudly cheered as he pulled his hand away from you, taking a few steps back away whilst looking at you like some proud handiwork.

“Thanks,” you blandly said, before turning and walking away, “now, let's go. We still have a few more camps to do for Lumine.”

Following your steps easily, Tartaglia returned to his place beside you prior and nodded enthusiastically at the thought of more fight. “Right! Aah—hope the next one is—”

Coldly, you cut him off, still walking calmly beside him, “Tartaglia.”

“Hm? What?”

“For the next camp, go get injured or something.”

Tartaglia made an offended noise at your suggestion. “Hey, I said sorry already! No need to—”

“I will make sure to return the previous favor when you bleed,” you said, cutting him off again without a hint of joke in your tone. Your eyes stared straight at his startled ones.

Tartaglia held the look of rare surprise for another few seconds. He seemed to be truly caught off guard—but not for long, as with a barking laugh, he returned your words with a wide grin you had seen he wore numerous times in every battle the two of you shared. “Is that so?”

You silently cursed at Lumine once more for making you keep working together with him. Many times enough that you could reply unflinchingly. “Of course. So go ahead—do something funny.”

“Will bleeding from any place work? Is it only for one wound or is it for every wound I get?” he asked, interest displayed clearly in his tone. Of course, the battle maniac had started to treat this like some recreational excursion. “I’m quite sturdy, you know.”

You didn't even try to humor whatever he truly meant by those. As the next camp and chest came into view, you spared him a glance, eyeing him through your peripheral.

“I wonder,” you said. “Depends on my mood and how funny you were, maybe.”

“Oh, really,” Tartaglia mocked out a swoon, readying his blades as they formed in his hands. “You truly are the best sometimes.”

[illiaccrest]

If Star Rail is going to give characters alternate forms/paths then I think Kakavasha should have a chance to reclaim his name/identity and get an Avgin styled form 😔

[stapledfish]

i tri to draw baby scara, whee

[jxmey]

courtesy of this post by tarugai

they're so annoying but i love them w/ all my heart

[jedi-enthusiasm-blog]

The Many Names of Peace (pt.1/?): Mercy

Inspired by Why We Did Nothing by BairnSidhe

Part I | Part II

CONTENT WARNINGS: THE RUUSAN REFORMATION AND HOW IT PUT THE JEDI IN A TERRIBLE PLACE, MANDALORIAN-JEDI HISTORY AFTER THE RUUSAN REFORMATION WHICH INCLUDES PADAWAN HUNTING. THIS INCLUDES:

Cultural genocide (discussed in detail). The Ruusan Reformation is made much worse here, and the Dral'han/Excision is also commented upon.

Child murder (discussed). Padawan hunting, and how Mandalorians killed children and took braids and beads as trophies.

Corpse desecration (discussed in detail). Lightsabers and Padawan braids and beads are taken from their owners. I realize this doesn't seem important for many of us, but it's very important for the Jedi.

Systematic identity erasure of a mixed race character (discussed). Tarre Vizla's Jedi status is barely known by Mandalorians because House Vizla treated it like a dirty secret.

Please mind your headspaces.

"If you hate genocide so much, where were your people at the Dral'han?" Terith asks with a scoff.

The Jetii stops muttering and goes still. Slowly, she turns, with a movement too fluid for a human. She's shorter than them, very slim and apparently frail, and her blond —almost white— hair is tied in a braided bun. Her eyes, which are a glowing emerald green, are burning.

"Where were we? You're asking me why we did nothing when your people were attacked?" The kage Jedi asks the Mandalorian with a soft tone of voice and a polite nod, looking almost like a respected jaieh accepting a padawan's question.

It is not.

Underneath their buy'ce, Terith's lips curl at her words, at her threat.

Zahara begins to move from one side of the room to another. It's too controlled to be called pacing, but the tension is visible in her movements.

"Not all Jedi are human. In fact, most aren't. There are species with very long lifespans and, considering Force-sensitives tend to live a few decades longer than others of their species, two hundred is far from an uncommon age among Jedi" The Jetii doesn't seem to be answering their furious question at first. "We were not there, Mandalorian, because every sitting member of the High Council during the genocide of your people remembered how Mandalore reacted when they came for us, first."

Drovan, her crechemate, her enishee, her brother of the soul, was a member of the EduCorps. He hadn't wanted to be a Knight, done the math, and decided to free up a space for somebody else. In particular, he was fascinated by the History of the Order. Zahara remembers quiet nights, when she was at the Temple resting after a taxing mission, when she Drovan used to sit down on comfortable cushions and her closest sibling rambled about what he was learning.

She's heard him ranting about the Ruusan Reformation, and the cruel limitations it places on her people even now. She's read it herself, once she began her Shadow training, learning every single restriction in search for loopholes that could be exploited to make the Order's job and life easier.

Her people's memories are long. Kages remember. The Jedi remember. Zahara remembers.

"They vividly remembered when the Republic we served brought down our Temples, when they took us from our homes, when they tried to destroy a whole branch of our Order" Zahara lists, voice cold and eyes blazing, "when they took our armor, our back-up and defenses, when they stole everything but our Lightsabers… and when your people laughed and called it easy hunting."

The Mandalorian pride in Terith's heart wants to protest, to deny the Jetii's words. But she speaks like a scholar in a subject she's clearly well versed in, like a grieving verd mourning the violence against her people they'd known nothing about.

History isn't always kind, Mandalorian history in particular rarely is, but it's always worth learning from. It's something Kyr'tsad and the extremists among the Nu'Mando'ade don't understand, and Terith refuses to make their same mistakes.

So, they swallow the growing lump in their throat, ignore the stone sinking in their stomach and try to listen.

Zahara's voice begins to break away from the calm, even tones of a teacher, and slowly fall into the ragged tones of soul-crushing grief. Her breath becomes shallow and rapid, and air gets stuck in her throat. Still, she continues.

"The Republic had been destroying us for two hundred years by the time of the orbital bombardment on Mandalore, and in that time, the number of Lightsabers and Padawan braids and beads seen on Mandalorian armor as trophies skyrocketed" The Jetii hisses, spitting the word trophies with the same venom he would use to say hut'tuunla or demagolka. "We were trapped, betrayed and dying… and your people murdered our young and desecrated our corpses, and had the nerve to carry the stolen lives of our kin as proof."

The air grows colder, a sharpness in it that's as familiar as her own reflection. The galaxy around her sings with promises of vengeance, of justice. Justice for her enishee, justice for Feemor and his charges, justice for Jaieh Ta'ra's murdered Padawan, for the all Jedi dead during the Mandalorian sack of the Anohrah, for the bastardization of Jaieh Tarre Vizla's story and the systematic erasure of his Jedi identity, for all the Jedi younglings dead at Mandalorian hands.

Not against the Mandalorian that did any of those things, but against a Mandalorian, anyhow.

"Your people sacked the Temple, stole the life and soul of a respected Jedi Master, got two of his Padawans murdered, erased every single hint of his Jedi upbringing, and perverted everything he stood for in life, all because he happened to be Mandalorian as well."

The song reaches a crescendo, the highest notes she's ever heard in a Force song, making her ears ring. The melody sounds off-key, and the final notes become loud and insufferable high-pitched screams. Zahara grits her teeth, and breathes in deeply. The xari in the air slowly dissapears.

She will not take revenge.

She's a Jedi, and revenge is not the Jedi way.

She will not Fall. She will not let her anger act upon her and betray everything she, Drovan, Feemor, Ta'ra and her Padawan, Tarre Vizla and his Padawans have ever stood for.

Zahara will not take revenge because it's not what Drovan would have wanted. It's not what any Jedi would want.

She will not take revenge because it's not as useful and satisfying as the thores of passion lead you to believe.

This Mandalorian is innocent. They haven't done anything wrong. They're angry about their people's genocide and rightfully so. They're ignorant, and ignorance can be fixed.

Words, the sharing of knowledge, bringing understanding when there was previously none. Those are her greatest weapons, and she can wield them freely and with as much efficiency as a Lightsaber.

Terith is frozen in place, mind racing with the desire to be anywhere else, away from this hurting, angry sorceress that sees them as an enemy. The manda in their chest screams, in offense or the pain of dishonor Terith isn't sure.

They wish their buy'ce was recording. That way they could investigate the Jetii's claims.

Everyone and their mother has heard the rumors about the Jetiise. Sorcerers from the Core that don't reproduce like other beings, but take children from their parents and train them to be as emotionless as droids, beings that beat all the love and concern for others out of themselves because they believe attachment is a weakness.

Terith believed them, once.

Now Terith doesn't know what to believe. The Jetii speaks with too much knowledge and pain to be lying, nobody can fake that well, and the air around them both is mournfully singing as the truth of her words sink into the depths of their runi.

Zahara breathes out slowly. Still hurt, but… determined not to Fall, not to take out her grief and anger on someone who's done nothing wrong.

"So" the kage Jedi flashes a polite but completely unfriendly smile, "why did we do nothing when they came for your world?"

Within their battered heart, stung with the pain of dishonor, with the stain on the manda itself, Terith knows the answer before the Jetii says a word.

"We did nothing because Jedi are merciful, Mandalorian."

(Notes under the cut)

Dai Bendu

Jaieh — Jedi Master (rank and role).

Padawan — apprentice, learner, student. Lit "the one who learns". Please picture a Jedi hearing a politician saying "Padawan learner", and containing the urge to eye twich.

Enishee — crechemate.

Anohrah — Jedi Temple, home. Before the Ruusan Reformation used to refer to the Temple the speaker was from.

Xari — darkness, the Dark Side of the Force.

Mando'a

Jetii(se) — Jedi (add 'se' at the end to make the plural).

Buy'ce — helmet.

Verd — warrior.

Kyr'tsad — Death Watch, lit "death society".

Nu'Mando'ade — New Mandalorians.

Hut'tuunla — coward. Very harsh insult.

Demagolka — someone who commits atrocties, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche

Manda — collective soul of the Mandalorians.

Runi — spirit, soul of the individual.

Zahara is a kage Jedi Knight, officially a Sentinel and a Finder, which is used to explain why she can be in places she isn't supposed to and bust slave rings without prior Senate authorization. Unofficially, however, she's a Shadow. It's common practice for the Jedi to register Shadows as Finders in order to give them more freedom of action.

Terith is a Mandalorian bounty hunter, but they're very picky about their jobs and have interest in medicine, particularly "mind-healing". They were born in a New Mandalorian family but found greater calling to Jaster and the True Mandalorians and switched allegiance once they were of age. They are mildly Force-sensitive, not enough to become a Jedi and only gives them good instincts.

The Dral'han is the orbital bombardment of Mandalore done by the Galactic Republic in roughly 800BBY. The Republic used Jedi ships, but there were no Jedi involved. Mandalorians believed the Jedi were guilty at first, but the truth was uncovered only a decade later.

Dai Bendu is not my creation. It's a colang, although the story of the language is something I made up. Dai Bendu is the language spoken by the Order of Dai Bendu and, later on, the Jed'aii Order. It fell out of use after the Jedi joined the Republic in 25,000BBY, but came back in full swing during the Jedi-Sith Wars when it was very useful to speak a language the enemy couldn't understand.

I don't know if it's canon, but in this story Force-sensitives live longer than the average of their species. Those who aren't trained only live a little longer (a decade in humans), but for those who, like the Jedi, have training that lifespan increases (three to four decades in humans).

"Free up a space". Taken from the Jedi Apprentice series, where Jedi age out at thirteen and there are limited Masters, and where those who aren't chosen are sent to the Corps. Drovan knew he didn't want to be a Knight, so he requested to be sent to the Corps as soon as possible to give the chance of becoming a Knight to someone who actually wanted to be one. Unlike Jedi Apprentice, however, this is an imposition from the Ruusan Reformation, and the Jedi try to bend this rule as much as possible.

Kages' memories begin forming almost at birth. Zahara remembers with vivid detail most of her life. She's doing an alliteration: she remembers because she's a kage and because she is a Jedi.

This is the "Ruusan Reformation but make it worse" AU:

"Brought down our Temples". The Ruusan Reformation demanded the centralization of the Jedi Order. Therefore, all Jedi were forced to move to Couruscant, and their other Temples were either destroyed or repurposed.

"Took us from our homes." Although Terith doesn't know it, Zahara is being redundant. The word for Jedi Temple in Dai Bendu also means home. She's putting enphasis on how painful it was for the Jedi to lose their homes.

"Tried to destroy a whole branch of our Order." The Shadows were supposed to be dissolved after the Ruusan Reformation was signed. However, the Jedi managed to keep training Shadows in secret.

The Jedi used to have weapons, armor and many defenses besides their Lightsabers, but the Ruusan Reformation ordered their demilitarization and "demilitarization". Among the things they lost were the right to carry their birth cultures' sacred armor and weapons. A Mandalorian Jedi wouldn't be allowed to have armor, for example.

Mandalorians tend to take trophies from their enemies after a battle. This is done both for, well, bragging rights and to respect the memory of a worthy opponent (similar to their remembrances for their fallen comrades). However, the bragging rights part can overshadow the respect for a worthy opponent part, and many Mandalorians hunt down defenseless "enemies" to steal important objects from them. The Jedi in particular were a favored target for these… individuals, seeing as they had no armor, only carried one weapon and were usually alone or in pairs because that's how the Senate decided to send them in missions. The victims were usually Padawans, hence the name Padawan Hunts.

Tarre Vizla's story shows the greatest difference between how Jedi and Mandalorians (at least in that era) treat different cultures and double cultured children. The Jedi don't hide that Tarre Vizla was Mandalorian, everyone knows that he left the Order to rule Mandalore, and know what happened to his armor and what he wanted to happen to his body and Lightsaber. However, Mandalorians either don't know or refuse to recognize Tarre Vizla's Jedi status.

"Sacked the Temple". Tarre Vizla left his armor to his Clan and his Lightsaber to the Jedi. When he died, he wanted to be burned in the Temple (both cultures burn their death, so little to no issue here) and his ashes to be spread on Mandalore. House Vizla, however, did the equivalent of spitting on Tarre's funeral pyre and sacked the Temple to steal the Darksaber.

"Stole the life and soul of a respected Jedi Master". Tarre Vizla was a Jedi, and the Darksaber is his life. House Vizla, however, had no respect for their relative's other culture and did the worst thing they could do to him: killing and hurting his Jedi family, and stealing a sacred item they knew was sacred.

I headcanon that Tarre Vizla had three Padawans. He finished the incomplete training of the first because their Master died, did the whole training of the second and got promoted to Master as a result, and only started the training of the third before he went to his home planet to unite Mandalorians against the Sith Empire. Two of them were killed during House Vizla's sack of the Temple.

"Erased every hint of his Jedi upbringing." House Vizla replaced the Jedi Order symbol on Tarre's armor with the symbol of House Vizla, refused to acknowledge Tarre's desire to be remembered as a Jedi and forbade anyone from speaking about his Jedi status, and never say that the Darksaber is actually a regular Lightsaber they stole.

"Perverted everything he stood for." Lightsabers are a Jedi's life, hold their souls in the same way beskar'gam holds a Mandalorian's. Tarre. Ever since it was stolen, the Darksaber has been used as a symbol of authoritarian and tyrannical leadership, warmonging, imperialism and military violence. It's so fucked up that the crystal is beginning to break (the white cracks, originally the Darksaber was pure black) and, had those who held it been trained Force-sensitives, the crystal would have bled.

Terith doesn't know they're Force-sensitive, but they know their instincts are rarely wrong, and they can feel the honesty and grief coming from Zahara in waves. They don't doubt her precisely because they know she's not lying, she's seeing things as she sees them and, even if she's wrong, it's something Terith believes to be worth looking into.