#Kad-Her

[duchi-nesten]

they can be combined in any way shape and form, but be careful.

[kadalcoffee12]

Daughter ref

finally after i procrastinates for few weeks she's done my lesbian <3 have a partner named Theo!

[lion-beauty]

Ponekad se zapitam sta je mojoj majci. Ona ima neke potisnute traume od svoje majke pa misli da je ispravno sta je njena majka njoj radila, pa to i meni radi. Sve mislim da zbog tih trauma ima neki psihicku bolest ali da nije dijagnozirana pa ne zna ni sta ima. Ona je primer bipolarnom poremecaja, samo gde NEMA teskih padova i gubitka energije, nego samo uspona, glasnog pricanja i buke i lupanja.

[engagemythrusters]

Omega meets Omega Squad

[yesiscandyskiller]

Kad as an emo from the 2000’s-

THE CRINGEEEEE!!!!!

[trudemaethien]

Kyrimorut

I’ve just done another reread/skim of the repcomm books for details of Kyrimorut for @ossidae-passeridae, who encouraged me to do a write up for reference. Some of these facts are explicitly stated, scattered throughout the series, and some are my own surmises. (My main conclusion is that KT considered architecture just about as carefully as the TCW creators did the GAR ranking system. lolsob)

So. In this essay I will

Kyrimorut, Kal Skirata’s refuge for his clone sons, was called a bastion, and frequently described in siege terms. It was also referred to as a homestead and a farmhouse.

“It was yaim—part barracks, part hotel, part married quarters, part farmhouse, the archetypal Mandalorian clan home.”

This stronghold was located in the heavily forested northern hemisphere of the planet Mandalore, a few hours flight north of Keldabe City, within 100 kilometers of a small town called Enceri, and just south of a lake. It boasted a main house and numerous outbuildings, including at least one medical laboratory, animal pens, and a hangar large enough for multiple craft.

Rav Bralor, another of the Cuy’val Dar, rebuilt it at Kal’s request during the war, and it was finished enough by a year in, to house some members of their group temporarily, but was still undergoing renovations up to the last moment before they moved in. She used droids to aid in the construction. The building was composed of brick, wood, stone, and rammed earth, and the (probably local, veshok) planks were joined with interlocking joints. The interior walls were plastered and painted, likely with naturally derived mineral paints; one room was mentioned to be “honey-colored.” The windows were narrow, described as arrow-slits, and the doors were unpowered hinged wooden slabs. The whole thing was large, and the rooms were characterized as airy and roomy at various points.

The layout seems to have been vaguely circular, or a circle of chained hubs, with a central karyai. The lobby was another hub, and there were both surface and underground passages connecting the hubs, radiating out like “the spokes of an eccentric wheel.” For this reason I think there were two floors in the main house with one above, the other underground. There was also a sheltered circular atrium off the main hub, with a roof that slid back, where they roasted meat.

The house had gutters and down-pipes to deal with snowmelt and rain, and given the nearby lake, they would have to have a good vapor barrier for the underground portion. Since the place was rural rather than urban, it was largely quiet, and the homestead's acoustics were such that sound carried well. This indicates to me that likely only the exterior walls were fortified of heavy stone and rammed earth; interior walls were more likely built of wood and plaster and easier to modify if they had some need. Power was unreliable in such a remote setting, so they used wood fires for heating and cooking; everything smelled of wood-smoke. The entire structure was designed to be unnoticeable from the air, and the clearing was not visible until the last moment upon aerial approach.

The karyai was the main living room. In one scene, Kad played on the floor with toy animals (nerf, bantha, shatual, nuna, jackrab, vhe’viin) Atin had carved from veshok wood, Wade Tay’haai played a purple-painted bes’bev (sharp flute), and Rav Bralor brought throat-searing tihaar for everyone. She lived on her own clan’s farm a few kilometers away, and had brought Yayax squad, who mostly stayed there, to visit Kyrimorut. They were learning carpentry from manuals, as one does.

People had their own rooms for sleeping, with couples sharing, along the corridors. Arla and Uthan’s rooms both had exterior windows. Quarters were pleasant, plain but comfortable, with generous mattresses on the beds and a table for personal use.

Then there was a room Etain thought of as the interrogation room, so that’s uhhh lovely.

It’s unclear whether the large table where they gathered for communal meals was in the karyai, the kitchen (which was separated from other areas by a door), or some other room. Wherever it was located, it was possible for someone seated at the table to lean back without getting up and fetch a bottle of tihaar from where it was stored. The table was made of a single large slab of veshok wood, and was big and sturdy enough to use for surgical operation, dismantling engines, or seating a whole clan of armored Mandalorians. They sat in chairs around this table, and Kad sat in a highchair. They used porceplast plates, and mugs for ne’tra gal, a sweet black beer. The head of the household summoned everyone to the table for meals.

The kitchen contained a fireplace and hearth, a chair (where Kal slept), ovens and stovetops, a conservator, enough workspace for at least four people at once, and an adjoining storage area. The kitchen could be a busy, noisy, bustling place, but it was separate from other living areas; people sometimes went there to avoid others.

The 20-30 occupants ate constantly and prodigiously, and never seemed to be lacking. The food was described as filling but not elegant, and was heavy on the protein. They consumed a lot of game; Lord Mirdalan the strill was an animal native to Mandalore and a hunter. Roast shatual, nerf, and roba were mentioned, and they would leave a joint of meat on the table to be eaten all day down to the bone (I shuddered in food hygiene). Fish from the lake were fried in a pan, and they made broth from gihaal, dried smoked fish with a pungent aroma stored in metal containers, one of the staples of Mandalorian ration packs because it kept for years without refrigeration. Also what Kal called Kaminoans, but that’s another story!

We were worried they only ate meat for a while until we came across some vegetables. Kad had pureed kaneta at one point, and for breakfast boiled grain porridge and shirred eggs were on offer. Jilka diced amber root for some dish. Mealbread rolls were also plentiful, and there was a vat of stew at one point. Listed imports via Ny Vollen included flour, grassgrain, pickles, powdered milk, sacks of denta beans, soap, dried fruit, and a bantha bone which was hard to get on Mandalore. The roba they raised themselves.

The roba pen had multiple animals witht at least one boar and one sow with a litter, and despite having veshok posts and walls, the gate was left open. I’m extrapolating that these animals were semi-domesticated and allowed to forage for food but came home to their pen for safety at night. There were rail fences, crop fields, and plans for raising nerf on the property as well. Outbuildings were mentioned frequently, but this was one of the few actually described.

Notable native species mentioned were the large, ancient veshok trees, which were evergreen, hardwood, and straight enough that the table slab was cut out of one large piece. They were ice-glazed and dripping in the spring thaw, so presumably had some defenses against freezing and exploding, or breaking under the weight of the ice, and they populated all the way up to the the polar cap. There was underbrush and bushes, and groundthorn weed, which was very stubborn and difficult to remove entirely. The roba would have helped with uprooting this as they foraged. Vhe’viine were small rodents with white winter coats that lived in burrows in the fields.

The medical laboratory behind the main house (it was necessary to walk around the bastion after exiting to approach it) was a mobile genetics lab/agricultural trailer of the sort usually used for breeding livestock and at racetracks. It was occupied first by Ko Sai and later by Ovolot Qail Uthan. Mereel acquired it, and Mij Gilamar stocked it with stolen/black market medical equipment. When Uthan took over, they built her more lab space. There were rural veterinarians in the community as well; Etain mentioned getting a cryocontainer for a sample from a neighboring farm.

The hangar was situated in a shallow slope to the north of the main house, half-buried in the soil and disguised with netting. It was large enough to house several craft at a time, including Ny Vollen’s ship, Mereel’s speeder, and the Aay’han, among others. Swabbing down the compartments of the Aay’han, replenishing stores, and prepping the ship for the next flight managed to occupy most of an afternoon for four men.

The lake was also to the north, and I believe it was a very large lake, functioning as a heat-sink. It had not fully frozen despite the bitter winter, described as minus eight and thirty degrees colder than tropical (although the temperature scale is not mentioned, it’s likely celsius because of the author’s background). There was ice extending from the shore like a pier, but also mist rising above it in the early morning and frost on the shore, even though layers of snow deep enough for feet to crunch through the surface were mentioned elsewhere at various times. This led my friend to speculate that there could be geothermal activity in/under that lake. Kal and Walon Vau were planning to build a memorial on the near lake shore featuring the armor tallies of fallen clone soldiers.

There was granite in the area, which also gave support to the concept of historical volcanic activity. Their yard sported four chunks, each large enough for at least two people to climb up and perch upon, which had erupted from the surface long ago and been worn down to a weathered polish. Winds came in off a nearby plain. A clear (muddy) area large enough to play mesh’geroya was also near the house.

Enceri had at least one cantina, there was a landmark grain silo at the edge of town, and it was big enough to host a bustling market square, despite being described as more of a trading post than a town. There they could buy, among other things, preserved vegetables, engine parts, and local triple-distilled tihaar, which could double as degreaser for said engine parts.

If they needed more than Enceri had to offer, they could go south to Keldabe. Landmarks of note there included the River Kelita and the Oyu’baat tavern. The Imperial garrison was located near Keldabe.

“But then Mandalore itself was one big contradiction, with heavy industry and shipbuilding sitting cheek-by-jowl with farms that hadn't changed in centuries, sophisticated electronics and ancient metalworking skills side-by-side in the same suit of armor.”

Established clan homes seem to be the usual way of things despite Mandalorians supposedly being nomadic. Their “temporary” structures being wattle and daub also indicates the nomad thing to be a bit of a fallacy. Even so, they had planned a possible relocation for Kyrimorut in the worst case, a bolt-hole on Cheravh. Jaing had taken to calling it offsite hot standby.

So that’s Kyrimorut, which means Final Haven, where Kal Skirata and his chosen family hunkered down in the aftermath of Order 66. My friend says it’s basically Aberdeen, down to the detail of players getting plastered mid footie limmie game. I gathered these details from four books (Hard Contact does not mention Kyrimorut) and compiled them for anyone who’d like to make use of the rundown. Oya!

[bones4918]

What if the reason Etain and Bardan seem to think they were kidnapped as children by the Jedi is because neither of them can comprehend the idea that their parents could have given their children away willingly? Etain looks at Kad and wonders how her parents could do the same and still want to give her away

[starry-907]

CALLOUT POST AGAINST @invisobang MODS

(LEGAL DISCLAIMER: this is all in good faith, i have permission from the mods to make this, and this is all light hearted)

i've come to make an announcement @kinglazrus is a tyrant of a mod, she put me in the ib prison SO I WILL EXPOSE THE TYRANT-NESS OF ALL INVISOBANG MODS BY CHRONICLING ALL OF THE CRIMES THEY GAVE ME OVER THE COURSE OF INVISOBANG (featuring my poor organizational skills while counting)

(under the cut cuz this is gonna get long)

CRIMES LIST AND THE LEVEL OF TYRANT-NESS EACH ONE HAS

CRIME 1: posted stickroll in chat (granted this was an intentional bid for jail so this one isn't very tyrant-y)

CRIME 2: got released for threatening to fight Laz, but then was put back into jail for threatening to fight Laz (somewhat tyrant-y, also shows evidence of mod-infighting /j)

CRIME 3: mentioned that i had avoided getting put in jail for a third time, i also got solitary confinement cuz i think i tried to join a riot (LAZ DID THIS SO THIS IS EVIDENCE OF TYRANCY)

CRIME 4: called out a mod's typo (said amound instead of around) (this one is very tyranty)

CRIME 5: said y'all all (ok this one's fair)

CRIME 6: stated i was going to make this post detailing all the reasons i got jailed (YOU CANNOT SILENCE THE TRUTH, VIVA LA REVOLUTION)

CRIME 7-3003: called out another mod typo (lebvends instead of legends) (very much so a tyrant move, i skyrocketed in my number of crimes for a very minor thing)

CRIME 3004: didn't remember reading the info doc (in my defense i had read the rules channel though, so this was unwarranted)

CRIME 3005: saying i had receipts that implied Laz was a tyrant (AGAIN, YOU WILL NOT SILENCE ME)

somewhere along the line kad ate 3 of my crimes, idk where or how but they got eaten (proof below)

LOST 1K CRIMES, DOWN TO 2002: i made a snapcube reference (specifically the "woah he's bisexual, I didn't know that" meme) (slight redemption from the mods)

GOT PUT IN SOLITARY AGAIN: called out a mod for breaking the emoji chain we had going in one of the gen chat channels (THE PEAK OF TYRANCY, I WAS ATTEMPTING TO BE A GOOD CITIZEN AND I WAS IMPRISONED FOR IT)

GOT PUT IN SOLITARY AGAIN AGAIN: pointed out that i had written more than Laz in a sprint when she'd previously had the most words in earlier sprints, truly a moment akin to the myth of athena and arachne (truly a mark of a tyrant mod)

2 CRIMES REMOVED, DOWN TO 2000: this is where we honor a glorious sacrifice. @duchi-nesten bravely offered to take two of my crimes upon herself (after the 3 of mine that they ate), so that my crimes number could match my birth year. we will have a moment of silence for this.

ok moment of silence over cuz she lost her crimes as punishment so i got three crimes back so i went to 2003 crimes.

3 CRIMES REMOVED, BACK TO 2000 AGAIN: again we must honor a sacrifice. @brekitten agreed to take 3 of my crimes to add to her own count and we must honor that as well.

THEN THERE WAS A MESS GOING ON WITH THE EMOJI CHAIN THAT I WAS TRYING TO FIX (people breaking the chain), I WAS IN THE TRENCHES but i did go from 2000 crimes to 1987 crimes for my good behavior in trying to hold the line, so that was very non-tyranty of the mods. the chain was indeed fully broken but Laz broke it so it's gonna stay that way (i had to go to sleep)

so the tl;dr is laz is a tyrant, go look at what people made for ib, and maybe join @ecto-implosion because kad immediately put me in jail upon joining and said i have a lifetime sentence because of nepotism /light-hearted

also i full well might've missed something, i definitely think i missed a solitary confinement or two but w/e

[sweetcherrybmb]

READ YOUR DIARY // DR3 \\ part seven

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x doctor!reader

Summary: Over a break in Croatia, Daniel falls in love with the ... culture...

faceclaim: Maria Rutkis; various pinterest girls

doctor_y/n

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 978,461 others

doctor_y/n the kids and I miss him <3 Good luck this weekend!

y/bff/username you guys coming over for the weekend?

doctor_y/n ofc

user1 madame, you are dropping hints and we may be picking up on it...

user2 KIDS?! adorable

user3 LANDO IN THE LIKES?! ok... ok...

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danielricciardo

liked by landonorris, doctor_y/n and 976,431 others

danielricciardo ok, i may be just one of her pets

landonorris daniel... please, just introduce uuuusss...

danielricciardo you'll meet her... someday... landonorris nour daniel...

user4 the kids look familiar... oh sorry, pets...

user5 so does the mother... user6 👀 user7 👀 user8 👀

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doctor_y/n

liked by y/bbf/username, danielricciardo and 968,585 others

doctor_y/n it's supposed to give me wings?

user9 you guys aren't even slick with it anymore

user10 this is basically a hard launch

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doctor_y/n

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 987,465 others

doctor_y/n ˝I zna bi govorit: Kad tad će se spojit Polovice, bit jedno i imat puno dice I svejedno dal si bogat, crn ili rogat Ljubav spaja dušo to je kozmička sloga Jer isto je za sluge, isto je za gazde I najlipše stvari u životu su džabe I kako god da mislija, volija il tija Život je šaka suza, vrića smija˝ - TBF

My baby, my sunshine, happy 1 year to us and many more to come!<3

danielricciardo love you, peaches!

doctor_y/n mwah danielricciardo mwah

landonorris ah, so it is you, twitter was correct hello!

doctor_y/n hello! danielricciardo get lost mate landonorris naaah

user11 and the lyrics, GOD WHEN IS IT MY TURN!!??

user12 what does it say?? user11 it would sound dumb if i translate it literally, but basically that no matter who you are, love connects people, the best things in life are free and that life is ˝a handfull of tears and a bag of laughs˝, it sounds really dumb, but it's taken from a popular song ˝what is life but a fantasy˝ user12 oh that is cute

user13 they are WHIPPED for eachother

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danielricciardo

liked by doctor_y/n, landonorris and 964,565 others

danielricciardo no matter the distance <3 love you sm peaches, happy anniversary!!<3

doctor_y/n mwah

danielricciardo mwah landonorris ok, both of you are cringe doctor_y/n ugh rude danielricciardo get out of our comment thread mate

georgerusslle63 congratulations you two <3

carlossainz55 congratulations !!

visacashapprb welcome to the family, Doctor!!

doctor_y/n thank youu!!

yukitsunoda0511 congrats, can't wait to meet her in person!!

danielricciardo expect to see her next weekend

user14 ughhh, can't wait to see her in the paddock

user15 RIGHT?? i bet she'll look bomb af

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TAGS

@yllomhej

@walldemons

if anybody else wants to be tagged, send me a DM or an ask!

[duchi-nesten]

Dumb question, how does Valerie's hair fit inside her helmet? I know Danny has to have asked at some point.

her helmet is actually a pocket dimension! Thats where all her hair goes!

Danny asked once and she showed him and that idiot just straight up (somehow) fell in! She had to go in there too to save him, cuz fucking hell she aint gonna have a ghost in her little helmet dimension even tho shes never been there before! Cue a weird adventure of them trying to survive that dimension and at the end it turns out it just led to Technus’ lair (cuz he made the suit). They walk in on Technus cleaning out the dirt from between his toes and are traumatized for life!

They leave, Valerie destroys the helmet because ew and she and Danny bond over their shared trauma :) <3

[writerlyhabits]

Aliit ori’shya tal'din

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Your second day in the covert reveals both new and familiar faces; hospitality and hostility.

Chapter 3 of the Shereshoy series | Masterlist | Ch. 2 | Ch. 4

Warnings: lots of Mando’a, mild language, soft Din, awkward Din, protective Din [he’s got a wide range, okay?], original Mandalorian characters… maybe a little bit of angst? It’s mostly worldbuilding, so I think that’s about it. 

AN: A word from the author – “I’m in grad school, I take forever to write things.Soon I will start grad school again, which means I’ll write this instead of my dissertation. I’m quite fond of the Mando Legends Lore, if you haven’t noticed. I literally got Kad Ha’rangir & Arasuum tattooed on me.”

This is the third part of a sister fic for my one-shot (Courting) a friend of mine wrote based on this request, and I’m so happy she’s letting me share it with you guys! She is also sharing it on AO3, so be sure to send her your love and kudos there as well! We hope you enjoy 💛

Translations, in order of appearance:

Aliit ori’shya tal'din: Family is more than blood

Rejorhaa'i kaysh murcyur gar shupur’ika?:  Are you gonna tell her to kiss your ouchies?

Cuyi ulyc, vod.: Be careful, sister.

Aliit: family

Ad(e): child/children

Kar’ta beskar: the central "diamond" of Mandalorian armor; lit. heart armor

Mirjahaal: peace of mind, "healing", general term for emotional well-being especially after a trauma or bereavement

Beroya: bounty hunter

Kurshi: tree

Sen’tra: jackpack

Buir(e): Parent/Parents

Akaanati'kar'oya: The War of Life and Death (Mandalorian myth), creation story

Verd'goten: a special trial for one to become warrior; lit. birth of warrior

So'haale: births

Urman'gedete: prayers

Eparave: feasts

Cyarir evaar'la: Courting

Alii'aliit: meeting of the clans, the closest thing mandalorians have to government or parliament; lit. "clan of clans"

Tsad: group (of people), alliance

Bes'ede: Mythosaur

Kandush : inevitable doom

Time moves differently underground.

With Odona, the hours passed quickly. As a team, you could disassemble and reconstruct nearly any ship in their small fleet, save for a few parts— which no one had yet found and delivered. The days were faster when the guardsman opted to join you in his free time, his first visit and subsequent dialogue with Odona still memorable.

To what do I owe the displeasure; Oh Mighty Protector of the Covert and Savior of Foundlings?

The pleasure of my company is for your friend, ‘Dona.

Why? Going to terrorize her again, Ik’? Ven’rejorhaa'i kaysh murcyur gar shupur’ika?

Cuyi ulyc, vod.

You had sensed there was a joke hidden within their jibes, one you were unable to decipher in their foreign tongue, but neither took the time to explain. Whilst Ikarus lacked use for the labor that required fine motor control, his presence disrupted the monotony of the many tedious and repetitive tasks you and Odona spent much of your time doing— their frequent banter kept you entertained throughout the day. 

The time you had spent in the medbay was shorter— the most common injuries coming from the older adolescents early on in their training, whose resilience and constitution had yet to strengthen— as well as wrist and ankle sprains from poor fighting forms, the occasional laceration from knife safety training; and at worst, injuries from the teens and young adults earned from a vigorous sparring session.

But with Din, the mornings and evenings together never felt long enough. The hours were reminiscent of your time with him and the Child in the Crest, the warmth of your aliit protected by familiar cold walls; the stone of the cavern both analogous yet antithetic to the durasteel of your former home. 

One forged of hands, and the other of time— one of the fires of a furnace, the other the fires of a planet’s mantle. Your time together before was that of contrivance, engineered— with agendas to follow and assignments to complete— your interactions affable yet somewhat artificial, a present barrier precluding your companionship from evolving into something more… More natural, more innate, more intimate. Here, your time together had been more candid, endearing— Din no longer shied away from any probing questions or physical closeness, which allowed that previous barrier to melt and slowly flow away like that of bedrock to magma, reshaping and remolding your times of leisure together to hours of unified repose.

The hours turned to days, the days turned to weeks, and the weeks turn to this moment, where seemingly no time passes at all— blanketed in the familiar darkness of your room. The unlit and chilled space, at first an unacquainted oddity, now a comfortable companion to spend the sleeping and waking hours in. The ritual remains the same— awaken with the Child, have the morning trade-off with Din, make the caf, and begin the tasks for the day— like clock work, a well-oiled droid.

This morning is almost no different, and yet, you hesitate to leave your bed, your conversation with Din the previous morning still fresh in your mind— 

Din had sat aside the table, his body resting against the wall— unarmored, arms crossed, head tilted to the side, the same position as every morning. Once you handed him the Child and sat, caf in hand, he finally spoke.

“I’d like you to join me tomorrow,” he stated. 

The lack of pleasantries from him was unsurprising, though a teasing ‘Good morning to you, Din’ was a tempting response. Instead, you greeted him with a grin and an unobjectionable reply— 

“Alright, what are we doing?” 

He hummed, pleased with your immediate acceptance.

“The adults alternate supervising the ade. Tomorrow, it’ll be our turn.”

You gestured toward the Child in his arms, in a playful retort. “Don’t we supervise this ad every day?”

The Child cooed in his arms, his ears perked tentatively at his mention. Din sighed, with a smile in voice.

“We do. It’s tradition for all of the adults to care for the ade… All have wisdom to share.”

Skeptical, you thought: ‘What would I possibly teach them?’

You observed the Child resting so comfortably on Din’s chest— his tiny hand gripped tightly into Din’s clothes, right where his armor’s kar’ta beskar normally sat. It was a stark contrast compared to the Child’s behavior upon your first meeting. With any loud noises and sudden movements, he would shrink inwards in his cradle— as if he could make himself any smaller. Medical scanners made him grimace, unfamiliar places and people made his ears droop— seeing others upset made him wary. And yet, he was endlessly curious. Despite his initial unease with the two new adults in his life, the Child was quick to trust you both— and with his trust, his personality came through… his affection, his laughter, his love. 

From there, Din learned how to tend to someone outside of himself— what it meant to have someone that relied on him, and more colossally, someone that wanted Din, as he was. The Armorer branded him as the Child’s father, and the delighted squeal from the little one sealed the bond that Din had been trying to hide for so long. Just as the Child learned to trust Din with his welfare, so too did Din learn to trust the Child with his own mirjahaal.  

Perhaps it wasn’t the lessons they taught, but rather the connection they made, and the wisdom they sought.

With this, the true question then inverted from the skeptic ‘what would I teach them’, to the sanguine ‘what will I learn?’...

“...When do we meet them?”

—

To the ade, the former beroya is nothing more than a tall kurshi fit to climb. 

Somehow, Din appears endlessly patient and playful with all six of the young children. They utilize their limitless spurts of energy to continuously attack Din as a squad, bringing him to the ground— he’ll exclaim a faux wail, and collapse to his knees— and the collective giggles of the ade begin the cycle again. 

Whenever a child grows tired of their battle, they come to you— wanting to be tossed into the air, or onto the nearest surface. Supposedly being gently thrown around aids in their brain development, and ‘it’s good practice for their first sen’tra flight’, Din tells you. The logic is questionable at best, but hearing their joyous squeals makes the ever-growing muscle fatigue worthwhile. Even the child of the Djarin clan is as equally amused, his own little spirit mightily lifted by the experience of being with other kids again. 

During your time on Sorgan, the Child was happy to interact with the other children— but mostly, he watched them, rather than play. Perhaps he was still too shy or too wary to fully engage with so many people, but surrounded by these Foundlings now, he looks at home; like he belongs. Amidst this cohort, he’s made a new friend, Mara, the youngest of the lot. Her long and dark hair reminds you— and perhaps the Child— of Winta, Omera’s daughter. The two spent the most time together on Sorgan, and despite the little one’s inability to say, he misses her. 

Mara and the Child sit away from the squad play-fighting Din, in front of the single wall of volcanic tuff— embellished with crimps and pockets, graven by many hands. You watch them, as they examine the wall, looking up and down, side to side. Your eyes travel upward to the small cavate, almost eight feet from the floor. You watch as Mara looks to the Child and nods, and begins her ascent up— using her fingers and toes to grip tightly onto the various crevices in the wall— and the Child begins to follow.

You step forward, almost instinctively, wanting to call out to them to stop, wanting to reach out to the children to prevent a fall—

Then, from nowhere, Din appears at your side, extending his hand to stop you. “Don’t,” he says softly, “Let them try.”

You look at him puzzled, and he continues. “If you distract them now, they might fall…” he pauses, and turns his head to watch them, “...but if you allow them to focus, they can succeed. Watch…” 

The pair silently step closer, closing the distance between themselves and the wall, watching the two ade slowly make their way up to the cavate. Mara climbs inside first, and lays on her belly, reaching out to the Child to help him trek the final span of the wall. Once inside, the Child turns around, to face the entire room below him. He squeals a little clamor of excitement, proud of his triumph, before looking down to his buire.

“Good job, kid,” Din says. “Come on down, it’s time to go.”

The Child looks at you both doe-eyed, his ears drooping, as he peers over the ledge. He looks back to Mara, and back down over the ledge, contemplating his next move. 

You lean slightly towards Din, speaking in a hushed tone. “I don’t think he knows how to get back down.”

“He can do it,” Din says confidently. 

You challenge him, “He looks scared.” 

Din insists, “Then he’ll do it scared.” 

He steps forward once more, his body almost pressed against the wall, reaching one hand up. “Come on kid, climb down.”

The child’s ears droop even lower, letting out a quiet whimper, a little anxious look on his face. He looks back up to Mara, who gives him an encouraging “You can do it,” before he finally begins his descent towards you and Din. 

Carefully, his little clawed feet grip into the same pockets he used to climb up, and his hands hold onto the ledge. He looks down at his buire with a slightly quivering lip, then back up to his hands. Slowly, he presses on, his movements deliberate and cautious, gravity tugging at his little limbs with relentless persuasion, clammy clawed-hands threatening to slip free from the cold stone. His disgruntled babbling fading with each tentative step, footfalls growing more steady with every downward stride. 

His little foot finally reached something soft— the hand of his buir, waiting for his arrival. With an excited squeal, he looks to Din, holding out his clawed fingers for Din to grasp. Din takes the Child into his arms.

“Good job… I knew you could do it.” Din whispers to him.

With his ad in hand, Din looks back to the cavate, where Mara sits silently. “You too, Mara, come down,” he says. 

Mara, unlike the little one, is less graceful, only climbing down two feet of wall before leaping off. You instinctively reach your arms out to catch her, but are a few seconds too late, as she lands confidently on her feet, smiling up at you. She giggles, asking the Child “Wasn’t that fun!” and the little one cooing affectionately with a bright smile.

“They need to rest.” Din says, before leading Mara and the Child back with the other ade. You follow him in toe, and aid him while he attempts to settle the children in preparation for them to sleep. 

The chamber is bathed in the soft, warm light of the cressets along the walls. The ade sit and lay in a circle on the floor, looking up at the two adults expectedly, waiting for you both to join them. Din gently places the Child in Mara’s lap, seating himself amongst them. 

The ade demanded a story before they would agree to their midday nap, and with only one long sigh, Din relented. As you sit beside him, the tale of Akaanati'kar'oya begins.

—

In ages past, when cosmic realms were naught,

Two gods emerged, each with a purpose sought.

Kad Ha'rangir, embodiment of change,

A dance of growth, His essence did arrange.

Arasuum, the god of slow decay,

In stillness thrived, where life would fade away.

Eternal foes, in battle they engaged,

Ideals clashed, the cosmic script was paged.

Kad Ha'rangir, with eyes of vibrant light,

Envisioned galaxies in endless flight.

His very step, a ripple through the void,

Transforming all, where life and change enjoyed.

Arasuum, with eyes as deep as night,

Desired a realm where stasis held its might.

Decay His touch, a silent, withering breath,

A universe in stillness, touched by death.

In ceaseless clash, their cosmic struggle roared,

A dance of gods, where destinies were stored.

Stoic truths emerged from this grand design,

A tale of action, life's breath so divine.

"For action is the breath that life bestows,

A vital force, as mighty river flows.

Inaction, slow demise, a creeping shade,

A silent death in stillness' dark cascade."

Through galaxies and time, the story spread,

Of Kad Ha'rangir, where change was bred.

Arasuum's touch, a cautionary tale,

A realm in stillness, where all things frail.

So heed the moral, in verses spun,

That action is life, beneath the sun.

For inaction's grasp, a silent breath,

A slow demise, an encroaching death.

—

The ade rest together in a haphazard heap of limbs on various bedcovers and furs draped across the floor. Exhausted from their Beroya Battles and abseil adventures, they finally sleep, leaving the two adults to quietly watch over them together. In the chamber’s silent embrace, the air hangs heavy and chilled— a symphony of stillness envelops the room, broken by the muted shuffle of shifting bodies, and the hushed breaths of the ade. The only audible rhythm is that of the pulsating cadence of your own heartbeat and the rush of blood moving inside your head. 

Your eyes scan over the ade, finding a sense of calmness watching their steady breaths, in… out. 

In… out.

In… out.

Your gaze once again falls onto the Child, cuddled against Mara, also breathing steadily. In the gentle cradle of his friend’s arms, he looks peaceful. Had he ever slept this soundly on the Crest?... Who held him every night before us? Who will take care of him after us?

In the softest whisper, to not disturb the ade, you lean closer to Din, telling him the obvious— “He’s happy here.”

“...Yes,” Din replies, just as quietly. 

“Was this your experience, too? After the Mandalorians saved you?”

“No.”

His visor is trained on the little one’s sleeping face—the same face of a child who was once trapped in the suffocating darkness of a sealed cradle—a cage, a cage whose opening only revealed another prison, in the form of two bounty hunters hovering over him like… a B2 Battle Droid, with a blaster pointed in a child’s face. A child rescued from death at the last possible moment by a shiny warden, offering an adiaphorous detainment. 

“It was… a time of war. I was trained to fight in it. I hope… that they never have to.” Din says, his gaze scanning over the ade once more. 

“I thought all Mandalorians were warriors.”

He, too, believed the same notion for many years. Training from the day he was rescued to the day he became an adult, after his verd'goten, life became a perpetual streak of jobs. Commission, retrieval, payment. Commission, retrieval, payment… Until a strange, golden, aureate armorsmith joined his tribe, bringing tales of the “Great Forge of Mandalore,” and the songs of the artificers that echoed through the speos as they worked. He remembers the first time he kneeled in front of her small, austere forge, in a dark room beneath a busy market above, listening as she spoke of the ethos, the rites, the latria, the true way of the Mandalore. 

“No. Everyone is trained to survive. But… we used to live, too.” 

“...Until Mandalore was taken.”

“Yes.”

So'haale, urman'gedete, eparave, cyarir evaar'la, alii'aliit… A cultus he could only dream of, but never truly have. Spoken knowledge fades into whispers, slipping through his fingers like sand as the voices of the ancestors grow ever fainter. Each decampment a dissolution of tsad res publica, each step forward a battle against oblivion. 

“I’m sorry.” You lean over, resting your head on his pauldron. “...Maybe there’ll come a time when we’ll live in the light, on a planet that welcomes us.” 

Din knows that within every Mandalorian is a patchwork of unfamiliar faces and ever-changing landscapes, their solace and safety as elusive as a bes'ede itself—and yet they endlessly repugn the kandush they have faced time and time again, guided by the conviction that within the uncertainty of the cosmos lay the promise of a sanctuary forged from the resilience of their spirit. 

He tilts his head, resting it atop yours. “There will.”

Ali'nare vencuyanir yaim. This is the Way.   

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

To show this author your direct support, go ahead and check this story out on A03 + leave some kudos and a nice comment 💜

[lilacerull0]

may i request some ex-yu album recommendations? i basically just have ekv on loop all the time

WAHHHH, I see EKV and I melt... 🧡 Here are my 2 cents... (person who is about to pack her soul in a tumblr response - adding one album per artist/band ti limit myself):

bolero - haustor

sunčana strana ulice - azra

prodavnica tajni - bajaga i instruktori

more, more - meri cetinić

odbrana i poslednji dani - idoli

dodirni mi kolena - zana

paket aranžman - idoli/električni orgazam/šarlo akrobata

pjevam pjesnike - arsen dedić

samo par godina za nas - ekatarina velika

program tvog kompjutera - denis & denis

moja posljednja i prva ljubavi - tereza kesovija

bistriji ili tuplji čovek biva kad... - šarlo akrobata

dok čekaš sabah sa šejtanom - zabranjeno pušenje

nađi me - oktobar 1864

godina zmaja - psihomodo pop

magazin - magazin

dnevnik starog momka - đor��e balašević

partibrejkers II - partibrejkers

kako bubanj kaže - električni orgazam

ćiribiribela - bijelo dugme

dnevnik jedne ljubavi - josipa lisac

oprosti što je ljubavna - crvena jabuka

soldatski bal - plavi orkestar

nedovršene priče - novi fosili

pokvarena mašta i prljave strasti - riblja čorba

treba imat dušu - atomsko sklonište

san je jak - jakarta

zeleni zub na planeti dosade - disciplin a kitschme

bonus:

live@tvornica kulture - vlada divljan

muzika za film, tv i muzej - srđan gojković gile

za vašu posljepodnevnu razonodu - darko rundek

and here is a playlist with all of these minus AZRA because branimir štulić pulled a lila cerullo and disappeared, even though, in my humble opinion, AZRA is the pinnacle of music.

[minecraftdog]

let's show each other some love! name one or a couple mutuals who you appreciate and say a nice thing about them and/or name some account you like that you want to say some nice words about!!

omg hi, thank you for giving me the stage to gush about my mutuals 🥰

first off, my bestest frined druka @dreamingofthedteam because she's there for me always <3

my beautyful wife @livingproofoftbd sfjhsd because they are so unashamed of her appreciation for whatever or whoever they like, they are just so good at making friends

kads @karinasomnus is just the kindest and loveliest of soul who is also so chill and cool and always knows what to say

sel @dreamidaydreaming who is a little star and works tirelessly providing dtblr with her comparisons

yumi @mahikamihan because she is just the loveliest and always so ready to gift people with her doodles that are so utterly cute 🥺

ocean @bottleofchaos because they always try so hard and never give up in believing everything can be better, they give so much and never get enough in return

crow @mello-when-hi idk where are they :( but one of the cleverest people out there who gave me so much kindness

rigel @i-just-want-to-see who is always there for me through my highest highs and lowest lows, you'd think they do so little but for me it actually mean sooo much

meryah @andthingsleftover for being this warm presence in the corner and offering advice, also unlimited supply of foolish content

trinity @dnfnoodles they are crazy but i appreciate their kindness towards me, i would never want to get into the dramas they discuss, but they deal with my lame minecraft ass xd

and moose @xomoosexo simply because they deserve all the love and appreciation ever and they are they funniest person i know <3

[drawsmaddy]

[ID: A digital drawing of the Wizard, a tall character with very pale skin wearing a red suit, and Marjorie, a dwarven woman with lots of tattoos. Marjorie is holding up an arm to show her tattoos and the Wizard is looking at them with interest. End description.]

A kofi doodle request for @blackdogmotel and @i-ad-kad-kad-i-ad!

You can request a doodle yourself on my kofi!

[mrbubblyurchin]

My thoughts on Imperial Commando and Republic Commando as a whole

RC

So, I started and finished Imperial Commando on an eight hour plane ride last night. This means I am done with the series overall and this will be me going over it and the characters. But let’s discuss my thoughts on this book first

Needless to say, I was disappointed. It’s not that it was bad or anything, it just wasn’t as good as Order 66 in my opinion, and, of course, even though it’s the last book of the series, the series was left incomplete, leaving me a bit disappointed in the end.

The author obviously planned on writing more Republic Commando books after this one, with how the Jusik and Arla plot line was set up, how the age reversing was going, and how Darman planned to kill the Jedi, but obviously, the sequel was never made, and thus, the overall story feels incomplete. But, enough about that. Let’s talk about RC as a whole.

Oh, and I’ll be completely omitting Karen Traviss from this conversation. She as a person has nothing to do with the plot or characters, which are the things I will be judging today. If you have a problem with me talking about the actual book and not ranting about the author who wrote it, then too bad. 

Let’s start off at the beginning. With Omega. Omega Squad was definitely a pleasant surprise for me. I enjoyed each of their characters and liked how most of them found peace in the end. That being said, I do have some notes.

The biggest is Atin. I feel like after Triple Zero he kind of fell into the background besides when he married Laseema in Order 66. (And his relationship with her fell into the background as well) And he felt practically invisible in Imperial Commando. And I get why Niner and Dar were more in focus for that story, but it would’ve been nice to see some Atin. Also, he’s he only OG Omega member who’s POV we never got to see. 

Next up, Niner. Niner got two POV’s in the series, in both the first and last books. And those books were where I enjoyed him the best. Niner was a solid leader for the squad, and was loyal to them through and through, especially in his friendship with Darman. He didn’t fade as much as Atin, but I still wish he had been a little more prevalent throughout the series.

Then we have Fi. Fi is my favorite from the squad still, and I love seeing him whenever he appears. His one liners are great, and to be honest, he’s kind of the opposite of Niner here. He was very prevalent for books 2-4, but fell into the background in the first and last book. He still appeared more than Atin in book 5, but I barely recall even seeing Parja. (Which was sad cuz I loved the two of them together)

The last of the OG Omega, Darman. Dar is definitely a strong character, and he has a very heavy theme of being used, manipulated, and lied to throughout the books. By the Kaminoans, the Jedi, and even Kal, Etain, and Niner at times! His mental resolve to protect Kad at all costs is what is barely keeping him together after Etain died, and while he does resolve to hunt Jedi at the end of the book, it’s a nice full circle moment to see that while Darman thought his one true purpose at the beginning of the series was to be a soldier, he now sees he was destined for a greater one all along. Being a father. 

Next let’s move on to Ordo, Corr, the Jedi, and Mandos. We got a LOT to cover here.

Ordo- Ordo is definitely one of my favorites. Him and Besany are cute and great and I love both of them. I like all the moments he gets throughout the series. However, I do think he was focused on a little too heavily. While I do wish some of the other Nulls like Jaing, Prudii, or Kom’rk had been given some time to shine, I still loved Ordo and I think he’s great. (That being said, I will be omitting the rest of the Nulls because I really only know enough to talk about Mereel and A’den for a couple sentences)

Corr- A really sarcastic, witty, and funny guy that did not deserve what he got. Losing both of his hands was tragic, but, with lost flesh, he gained a new family in Clan Skirata. He was a nice addition to Omega after Fi had to leave, and I liked him a lot. (He and Jilka were pretty cute in book 5)

Etain- So… Etain. I like her, I really do. But sometimes, there are some choices that I cannot get behind. (Like how she purposefully went behind Dar’s back to get pregnant in Triple Zero) But even still, she is a good person, and she just wanted to be a good mother to Kad and live a happy life with Darman, and she didn’t deserve to meet the end she got.

Bardan- An all around solid character. I liked his development from bright eyed Padawan to rugged ex Jedi Mandalorian, and I think his sense of responsibility to Clan Skirata and also to Kad is very important. He made sure to put others before himself no matter the consequences, a quality with several others lack. 

Walon- A hardened Mando bounty Hunter with good intentions at heart. (Probably). I mean, he did save Jilka, lend Kal credits, and he also did try to find Sev. He cares. Even if it is in his own twisted way sometimes. (Still, what he did to Atin was brutal)

Besany- Love her. Since the beginning, she was all about standing up for the clones and their rights. She cared about them as people and not as property, and she saw their differences as well, and what made them unique, and she really does love Ordo, and I think the two of them are very sweet.

Kal- Oh boy. Here we go. I know I’m gonna get hate for this. Here I go. Brace yourselves. If you need tissues to cry, grab them. 

I like Kal Skirata.

…

…

…

Okay. I’ll continue. I am not going to say I agree with him on everything, and I’m not going to pretend he is a saint or anything. But I like his character. He cares about his family, and he does make mistakes. Everybody does. The problem is everybody has gotten so used to pointing out Kal’s every mistake that they refuse to acknowledge anything he did right. And guess what? Kal makes mistakes. He’s flawed. He’s not perfect. And that’s the point. Characters are flawed. People are flawed. They aren’t perfect. And neither is Kal. And HE ADMITS THAT IN BOOK 5. In fact, NY ADMITS IT TOO! She acknowledges that Kal taking over the Nulls and not seeing the similarities to the Jedi taking children is arrogant! She acknowledges that! And Kal acknowledges that and his flaws later in the book! Kal is arrogant, yes, but he sees that! He knows it! So before you go around saying how Kal thinks he is some saint god or whatever. He doesn’t. And there is proof of that in the books.

So, uhh, yeah. Overall, I think the Republic Commando series was good. There were some things that definitely could have been improved upon, but I liked it. I liked the story, and I liked the characters, so yeah.

Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk.

[pedropascallme]

Treehouse

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader

Summary: “Then, as if one change hadn’t been enough, there you were.”

Warnings: Ever so slight implications of what could possibly verge on smut but only if you squint. Otherwise none!

AN: Part four of Stupid For You. Is this maybe slightly ooc? Perhaps. Fuck it we ball.

Soundtrack: Treehouse by Alex G

Since swearing the Creed, it was as though there was a giant “do not disturb” sign pasted on Din’s forehead that everybody but him could see.

Once he was tall enough, old enough, strong enough; once he had put on his helmet, never to remove it in front of a living being again, once he had vowed to walk The Way, nobody seemed interested in approaching him. Which was fine. There was an obligatory need to seem intimidating and untouchable in his line of work. Encountering anybody else consistently resulted in inconvenience and, more often than not, violence.

Plus, he hated small talk. 

He was fine keeping to himself. He was fine with the silence that he and he alone could create. He enjoyed his time alone, relishing in the fact that he could have the privacy that his heavy beskar allowed him. He needed the space to think, not of anything intimate, but of his duties, of which there always seemed to be too many.  

Din was far from lonely. But whatever higher being was out there—Hod Ha’ran, or maybe Kad Ha’rangir, depending on how you looked at it—seemed to crave chaos in the form of changing the course of Din’s life at the expense of his solitude.

He really hadn’t meant to get attached to the child. It wasn’t like he expected to be with him for long; the plan was to pick him up and take him where he needed to go. How much time could it possibly take? 

Much, much longer than Din had anticipated. 

But he couldn’t deny that he had a certain affinity for the kid. He was curious by nature, allowed to explore the world in a way that Din had never gotten to as a child. Maybe it was because he could empathize with the green tot, could understand the feeling of loss and abandonment that came with being a foundling thrust into a new way of life. Whatever the cause, Din had rather happily accepted the fact that the two were stuck together.

Then, as if one change hadn’t been enough, there you were. 

When you waltzed out of Peli’s shop on Tatooine, rag over your shoulder and dirt on your hands, you fawned over Grogu the same way Peli had. But you, unlike Peli, were so clearly eager to get off the dismal desert planet. Your eyes had almost the same depth of curiosity Din saw in the kid’s deep black ones, and there was something in the way you spoke that set his mind at ease more than Peli ever did when she “babysat” (her words). 

He was an absolute goner the moment Peli suggested that he take you along. “For the kid’s sake!” She cheered, and once you were out of earshot, she leaned into Din “and for your own, Mando.”

And then suddenly he had a roommate—a friend, even. One that spoke basic and didn’t destroy his ship. Someone who could keep things in order and ensure safety for the child when Din went out for those long stretches of time. That was the most daunting part of your presence, the unexpected sentiment of safety. Din recognized the irony; the fact that the big bad bounty hunter felt protected by your companionship, your quiet but constant reassurance. But nobody needed to know. It was his secret. And maybe when Greef casually mentioned Din’s more pleasant attitude as of late, how it seemed to coincide with your arrival, he’d brush it off. 

His secret. 

Din was also, quite frankly, terrified of you. Not for any particular trait you held—he thought you were beautiful, fascinating, and maybe one of the smartest people he had met, but that was just it: You were perfect. And Din was…Din was Din. He assumed you were disgusted by his occupation, bothered by his long absences, and disinterested in him on a personal level. He tried to ignore the part of him that said he only felt that way because he was afraid to get close. He could take physical harm, but emotional damage wasn’t something he craved any more of. He tried to dismiss the way you laughed, the way you spoke to him like he was just another person, the way you stubbornly insisted on doing everything on your own all the time. Maybe selfishly, he had always recognized himself as a leader, but it became increasingly obvious—to him, at least—that you were giving him a run for his money.

He had felt his mask slipping even before he had found you wearing his old armor. He attempted to help you out more often, tried to take care of you the way you took care of him and Grogu. His nicknames for you got more frequent, and while he knew you couldn’t understand the Mando’a, he worried he was crossing a line somehow. When he walked in on you imitating him, he couldn’t help but feel himself swell with pride at how you tried to emulate him, how you saw him. He couldn’t help the way he felt so eager to touch you, to have you physically experience his presence. When you began to use the affectionate Mando’a words he had gifted you, he was only mildly bashful, feeling as though you had suddenly swapped places. And what’s more: He didn’t mind. 

He had known from the start that he wouldn’t be immune to your charm, and the countless restless nights during which you were the one thing on his mind were proof. He thought of your lips, the curve of your breasts, the way you peered up at him from under your lashes—anything and everything about you consumed him, and he would’ve felt somewhat perverted about it if you hadn’t started to return his subtle flirting. He knew you knew, or maybe you didn’t, and you were doing exactly what he was doing and desperately toeing the line, engaging yourself in the prospect of something more. 

He hoped, at least, that it was one of the two. 

Either way, and as scared as you made him feel, he never wanted you to leave his side. Maybe it was inconsiderate to think that you’d stick around with him and the kid forever, with or without him having to ask. It was a silent prayer he held close to himself, though. Everybody else was an obstacle to him, in return usually seeing him as a walking weapon and nothing more. But he saw you as fresh air incarnate, as powerful as the suns of the planet he had picked you up on, and you made the ship of misfits he had accrued—himself included—feel whole. When you spoke to him you put more feeling into it than anybody else that addressed him ever had.

For once in his life, he looked forward to small talk. He was so absolutely stupid for you. He liked answering your questions, getting personal, bonding with you in a way he had never cared to with anybody else, that nobody else had ever cared to with him. The curiosity from others he had experienced was usually centered around discomfort, but with you it was a genuine attempt at getting to know him. And you didn’t seem to mind when he had put his hand on your leg, an act of unspoken loyalty between the two of you.

Or maybe he was reading into everything. Maybe he needed the sleep you kept hounding him to catch up on. 

Regardless, the exchange echoed in his mind when you left the cockpit. 

Do Not Enter is written on the door way Why can't everyone just go away? Except you You can stay

~~~

Tag list <3

@queerponcho @abbygraceasd @sanscas @amberpanda99