#just dar'buir things

[jacensolodjo]

Idk how many times dad is really gonna ask if I actually use my keys with all of the keychains on them rather than just the car key that clips to my carabiner.

Like. Dad. You have been in the car with me and seen me unclip my car keys from the carabiner. You have brought this up before multiple times in the past. I have even unhooked my car keys to hand them to you. How do we forget and then ask me every 6 months it feels like?

And still you seem to think I am a moron who makes all those keychains dangle from the ignition lmao why would I suddenly unclip the whole carabiner worth from my belt loop? Instead of the much easier unclip the keys I need. I have a lot of keychains. I don't want to fuck up my ignition with all the weight of the keychains lmao

[nightfall-1409]

Hiya. You've probably seen me often in the comments for (Re)convene on AO3. Well, I love that story so much that I had to take this opportunity to continue our dialogue in a more appropriate location/setting. Anyway, the reason I reached out, mainly, is that I have a few questions, if you're willing to answer them. Just out of curiosity, what made you decide to make Myles a Wren? And, if it's not considered spoilers, could you explain the overall history of Clan Wren in this universe? Thanks.

Hi!!! I do hahaha

This is a totally fine place to reach out :) (I'm working on the next chapter, but, well, I get distracted easily hahaha) I'm also working on a one shot I'm planning for mother's day from Sabine's POV called "So I as my mother before me"

So I actually was thinking about this ! Perhaps a little bit roundabout until we get back to our answer.

The way that the last Clan Wars is described in both RepComm and the Disney Rebels is as an emotionally devastating wound, that tore family from family, friend from friend, sibling from sibling, parent from child. Most Mandalorians we've met have two names, a name they were given, and a family name. In a lot of fan content, those who have been separated from their family take on a new last name, Naa'sade, but that's not anywhere I've read officially. But we have met a few Mandos with no last name. Given the fact that the schism in Legends happened first between the True Mandalorians and Death Watch (where Tor defected from what Jaster was doing), it stands to reason that what happened between Clans started then.

So, IMO, the Mandos without last names are likely those who've cut ties with their family. Symbolically, spurning their family name and setting out on their own. But they're not of no clan, because clan structure is more than family structure. They're still of the clan they were apart of before, they're just contending which branch of that clan will survive, or else joining a new clan (IE, Silas' loyalty in the comic, to Jango would likely mean he's joining Jango's clan/house)

We've got three Mandos without last names to work with then. Silas (who I already had plans for + we've already gotten a canon face for), Montross (who's well, very dead by now), and of course, Myles.

This brings me back to how I plan stuff. I knew early on that I was planning on having Ursa as we see in the fic betray Sabine's trust (and this time, really break it, because while Ursa hadn't had the full picture of what Sabine has gone through, Sabine's been burnt by her mother before. And this time is far worse. Because she thought she would be able to influence Ursa's choices if she told her mother the truth.)

So I did more than a little character analysis of Ursa. She's a protective mother bear, but she at this point is dead loyal to Death Watch, as she would later be loyal. Her willingness to betray her child's friends and teammates to get her child to safety, her frank conversation with Sabine where Ursa tells her that the entire reason why Ursa never reached out to her was because Sabine was safer away from them... that implies a level of control, a level of knowledge of how these things work, a level of trust in Death Watch's leadership structure, that if she reached out she would get what she wanted. Because Sabine had never once betrayed her name, never declared her parents dar'buir. So making sure Sabine gets home safe was important to her, a) and b) thought that working through Death Watch's House channels would work. Given the fact that the clan wars split up house from house, clan from clan as I mentioned...

And then there's the fact she ended up marrying a New Mando... I'm given to believe that there was some disillusionment with Death Watch from before, but not enough to betray it completely. So I'm inclined to believe that something happened to her during the clan wars, but it's a matter of asking, well, what?

In Short then, there's ample room for a tragic backstory for Ursa wherein she, as her daughter, was raised in the midst of a civil war. Where she, as her daughter, lost a sibling to that war, when her sibling refuted their family, and left, and became nameless. She snaps at Ezra when he says that they're all True Mandalorians, to tell him not to speak on what he doesn't know, meaning, IMO, this sibling could have gone to that side of the battle.

Ursa, Sabine, Tristen, all have latin ties wrt their names, and so does Myles.

So I came at it like that. I wanted to have a sort of pattern, within the Wrens, with Sabine, and Ursa. And further, more than that.... it's useful for other story purposes, as a plot device if Sabine's got a lot in common with someone in PARTICULAR Jango Failed... Wellllll that is a rather juicy potential point of Pain. A good plot point that could come around, as well as being a good theme of the story, of being that of cycles and family dynamics coming around and around, and wanting to break out of it.

Hopefully that answers the question!

[crispyjenkins]

Can you do more of that mandalorian obiwan jangobi fic? It was so good!

(i’m very feckin attached to this obi and i’m so happy y’all want more. blood and injury warning for this one! jangobi is very soft but obi is very bad at keeping himself alive, and ruusaan is the only one with a braincell. part 1 here!

umm. this got really long. it just... kept getting longer. fills will not be this long consistently i just. i really love this obi.

**ruusaan’s name and design from this! thank you to @amillionstarsandyouchoosethisone for letting me write her, i love her dearly)

 Ruusaan remembers a time before the Supercommando Codex, even if her sisters do not, and as soon as she’s old enough to follow Mereel, she crashes the Duke’s council meeting discussing the cutting of the budget for the poorer levels of Sundari. In front of every one of her father’s supporters, she recites the shuk’la buirok and leaves every Kalevalan piece of herself behind.

  The Haat Mando’ade welcome her with open arms in spite of her origins, Mereel trains her to fight and helps her build her beskar’gam, and she hopes someday her sisters will grow to make their own decisions as she had. 

  Ruusaan walks her path alone unless Mereel calls on her, traveling the stars as Haat'ad, nameless still, but infinitely free. She has no right to Mandalore as her dar'buir believes, but she can live the Truth, and if that's good enough for her Mand'alor, then it’s good enough for her. 

  When she accepts the call to Melida/Daan seven years after joining Mereel, she does so with caution —she will not pull the Haat'ade into their war— but when she lands just outside the capital of Zehava, she’s greeted by a small party of children. A girl that can’t be much older than Satine approaches Ruusaan immediately, red hair greasy and in disarray, but exuding determination.

  “You’re the commando?” she demands without preamble, hiding her shaking hands by forcing them into fists. 

  Ruusaan removes her helmet and tucks it under her arm so the kid can see her raise her eyebrow. “I am. You put out the contract?”

  The girl clenches her jaw and nods. “I’m Cerasi. I need you to get someone to Coruscant.”

  Immediately wary, Ruusaan looks around the girl to the other children, who stand around someone that positively hums in the Force. “Your contract said transport of goods.”

  “He belongs to the Jedi,” she says, spitting the word like it’s poison. “But they aren’t answering his communications, and we— Force, we don’t know what’s wrong with him.” Her confidence falters, darting a quick look behind herself before gripping her arm. “Listen, I don’t have much, we only just won and Nield isn’t— He helped us, he’s the reason we won, no matter what the rest of the Young say. He doesn’t deserve to die here.”

  “Kid, I’m not taking your money,” Ruusaan cuts in, Cerasi’s face falling before she continues, “Mandos have creeds about children, I’ll take him for free. Where is he?”

  It takes Cerasi a moment to realise what all that means, but then blinks and dashes back to the little group of children. With a growing sense of foreboding, Ruusaan follows, watching the kids part to show a tiny padawan in dirty tunics laying in a makeshift litter, and Ruusaan has to close her eyes for a moment to calm herself. The Force around him wavers like a heat haze, and Ruusaan isn’t trained enough to know what that means; nothing good, if the flickering of the boy’s Force signature is anything to go by.

  There’s dried blood on his lips and chin, and she can hear his breathing from here, ragged like it hurts, and it probably does. Cerasi bites her lip and moves to pick the kid up, but Ruusaan quickly steps in and kneels to check the kid’s ribs first. Nothing seems broken, he barely even seems bruised, which certainly doesn’t fill her with confidence, but at least it’s safe enough to lift him.

  She puts her helmet back on before carefully scooping the kid into her arms, and he actually feels an alright weight for how thin the other children look. Ruusaan turns back towards her ship and jerks her head for Carasi to follow her.

  “What’s his name?”

  Cerasi quickly moves to catch up, chewing at her lip again. “Obi-Wan, but that isn’t what the Jedi he was with called him.”

  Hm. “How long has he been sick?”

  “He came to us like that. He would just— cough, all the time, and the Jedi didn’t know what was wrong with him.” She follows Ruusaan up the ramp into her little ship, heading for the medbay. “He— After he promised to help us, the Jedi left him here.”

  Rage nearly smothers her, and Ruusaan locks it into her chest for later, after she leaves atmo; Obi-Wan twitches in her arms in response to her sudden spike of emotion, and she can’t have that. “They left him?”

  “Look, I don’t— I don’t know how it all works. But Obi-Wan gave up being a padawan to help us, I think, and I think that’s why the Jedi aren’t responding.” Cerasi watches her set Obi-Wan on the far-too large bed, her lip starting to bleed under her teeth.

  Ruusaan hands her a tissue, but sets aside her helmet to quickly cut the boy out of his tabards and tunics. Just as she had thought, Obi-Wan is wearing a compression shirt under it all; Cerasi looks terrified when she cuts him out of this too, and Ruusaan sends her a reassuring smile.

  “Peace, kid, Mandalorians accept all. Has he been wearing this often?”

  “All the time,” she says uncertainly, ducking forward when beckoned to help Ruusaan get Obi-Wan’s dirty clothes out from under him. “Is that what caused this?”

  “It certainly didn’t help.” They fall into silence as Ruusaan gets a ventilator hooked up, Cerasi jumping in to help as instructed, but there isn’t much Ruusaan can do with her sparse medical equipment. She doesn’t even have bacta. 

  “Are you... Are you going to take him to the Jedi?”

  Ruusaan snorts, making sure Obi-Wan’s vitals are being logged before turning to Cerasi. “Absolutely not. I would never return a child to those that abandoned them.”

 Obi-Wan makes a small sound, eyelids flickering for a moment, but he doesn’t wake, and Ruusaan realises her heart is in her throat. Well, that settles that, then. “I’ll take him back to my people, decide where he best belongs,” she adds, as if the gai bal manda isn’t already burning her lips. 

  It seems to satisfy Cerasi enough to return to the Young, and she leaves Obi-Wan with a kiss on the forehead and a whispered apology. She races out of the ship before Ruusaan can ask her anything else, and she does not follow. Ruusaan’s contract is on the bed behind her, and you cannot save someone who does not want to be saved.

-

  Jango doesn’t know if it’s Ruusaan or Jaster’s machinations that has him covering contracts with Obi-Wan more than any other commando, but he’d appreciate it if they stopped before Jango has an actual heart attack.

  Because Obi-Wan, for all his new calm and easy demeanor, is even more reckless than when he was a child, and Jango hadn’t thought that was possible. He jumps into fights without checking escape routes, and uses his rifle in close combat as well as his fists, he doesn’t travel with a jetpack, and he removes his helmet any time they’re not in an active right.

  “It’s easier to breathe without it,” Obi-Wan tells him on another mercy mission to Concordia. “Buir tried to hook an oxygen tank up to it, but they were all too heavy.” And he shrugs like it's fine, and Jango decides he has a death wish.

  Ruusaan either joins them on missions, or takes contracts nearby, never too far if... anything went wrong. Luckily, things rarely do, and Jango only has to see Ruusaan restart Obi-Wan’s lungs once after that first mission back, and even then Obi-Wan had been fine within the day.

  They make it a year and a half of missions together before things go wrong, stranded in a rusty hut on Yutha during a dust storm, with Ruusaan somewhere on the other side of the canyon to the North taking a different job. 

  Theirs had been a simple contract to retrieve some Neimoidian’s data disk that he’d left with a lover, and Jango is only there because Obi-Wan had asked him to be, and if it weren’t for the dust storm, it might have been as easy as it sounded.

  Obi-Wan is at the one window, the barrel of his rifle propped on the sill as he watches the red dirt road outside for anyone trying to take advantage of the storm, though they’re pretty sure their hiding spot has been abandoned for a while. Jango had taken up leaning on the wall on the other side of the window frame, watching Obi-Wan more than he’s watching the outside, and even after almost two years back working with other Haat’ade, he has trouble contending this Obi-Wan with the fourteen year-old that had once tried to set his cape on fire.

  Obi-Wan flicks his eyes to Jango with a tiny, barely-there smirk and readjusts his rifle on his shoulder before returning to his vigil. Shaking his head, Jango is almost thankful Obi-Wan had removed his helmet as soon as they’d secured the hut; how else would he have seen the Yutha sunset painted on his face? 

  Hm. He should probably look into that affection that’s becoming harder to ignore. 

  “Jango,” Obi-Wan rasps, yanking his attention away from the rising dust storm as Obi-Wan’s hand darts up to his bleeding nose. 

  His entire body jerks, his blaster rifle clattering to the floor, and Jango has to dive forward to catch him before he hits his head on the windowsill. He starts coughing before Jango can even get him laid out, struggling against Jango’s arms and splattering blood across his chestplate.

  And these coughs are worse than the last time, shorter, harsher, and Jango has been in enough battles to recognise someone going into shock.

  This is all wrong, though, it never goes this fast, where Obi-Wan is already choking on his own lungs, eyes wild as his body attempts to shake apart, and Jango’s never had to deal with this alone, and oh Force, Ruusaan “the Jedi Killer” Tra’Galar is going to lose her foundling on Jango’s watch.

  The dilapidated furniture starts to rattle as if shook from below, anything left on shelves or counters levitating for a moment before crashing to the ground. Jango yanks off his helmet and has to grab Obi-Wan’s wrists to stop him from clawing at his own armour, Jango feeling him pulling the Force in around them until it’s an almost unbearable weight. 

  And Jango can’t get him into shock position, not with him thrashing around with far more strength than he should possess with at least one lung collapsing, if his wheezing is anything to go by. His skin is cold and clammy when Jango manages to get a free hand onto his forehead, and despite years of having to patch up vode on the battlefield, Jango can’t tear his eyes from the blood that bubbles from his nose and drips down his face, staining his hair and making something dislodge in Jango’s chest. 

  “Hey, hey— Kid, hey, you with me?”

  Obi-Wan blinks and his face scrunches, but he can’t seem to focus on Jango as he tries to jerk himself free from Jango’s hand. Holding him down is going against everything Jaster had taught him about shock, but every commando he’s had to treat for it has been unconscious by now, and even when Obi-Wan’s strength gives out, going limp against the floor, he doesn’t pass out, instead staying aware of his own rattling wheezes. 

  His fingers twitch in Jango’s hand, blinking again and jerking under the palm on his forehead; somewhere behind them, a piece of furniture crashes. Jango can’t honestly remember the last time he’d seen Obi-Wan use the Force, for anything: they keep it on the downlow even around the Haat’ade, even with Ruusaan broadcasting her own sensitivity as a point of pride. And Jango has never asked, why Obi-Wan will paint his beskar’gam silver but then refuse to acknowledge his past with the Jedi.

  Something else crashes and Jango winces, moving to try and loosen Obi-Wan’s chestplate one-handed. It’s halfway through the process, with Obi-Wan’s jerking chest even more obvious, that Jango realises he isn’t going to survive it, if Obi-Wan dies like this. Force, he can’t take it if he dies like this.

  The faint hum of a jetpack is the only warning Jango gets before the door to the hut explodes under blasterfire, Ruusaan shouldering through the remains and looking like a vengeful goddess with charred armour and a slice on her cheek. 

  She drops on Obi-Wan’s other side, tossing her rifle away to put one palm over Obi-Wan’s heart, and the other on his right side over his ribs. Jango makes to pull away and let her take over, but as soon as he does, Obi-Wan starts to thrash again, and Ruusaan’s hand flies out to stop Jango.

  “Keep him calm,” she orders, brooking no argument, and Jango listens, grabbing Obi-Wan’s wrists again to settle in for seven of the worst minutes of his life — where Obi-Wan stops breathing entirely on them twice, and Ruusaan growls like a rancor before she manages to inflate both of his lungs properly. 

  Obi-Wan gasps on the sudden ability to inhale, eyes regaining some of their clarity, but he still can’t focus on either of them.

  Ruusaan is unsurprised, grabbing up her rifle to swing the strap back over his shoulder. “How far is the ship?” she demands, and Jango’s been a soldier since he was fourteen, he can fall in and defer to Ruusaan’s command, even accept her lead with relief. 

  “Just over the ridge,” he says, slamming his helmet back on and shouldering Obi-Wan’s blaster as Ruusaan picks him up like he weighs nothing, even in full beskar’gam. Bewildered and a little intimidated, Jango helps put both her and Obi-Wan’s helmets on as well — the dust storm clearly isn’t stopping, and they can’t stay here.

  He grabs Obi-Wan’s chestplate and follows Ruusaan back to their ship, and even though Obi-Wan is unconscious by the time they reach it, Jango is all too thankful to be able to close the hatch behind them. 

  In the medbay, he helps strip Obi-Wan of his armour, and then works on getting the blood off his face enough for a ventilator while Ruusaan rolls Obi-Wan’s flight suit down to his waist so she can get at his ribs.

  Jango can hardly look at him, at the patchwork of darkening lavender bruises and the way his chest scars stand out against his heated skin. Carefully lifting Obi-Wan’s head to slip on the ventilator mask, he wishes he could wash Obi-Wan’s face properly, there’s still so much dried and drying blood under his nose and down his cheeks, and he just wishes he understood what the kark is wrong with him.

  Instead of asking, Jango moves to get the bacta vaporiser set up while Ruusaan goes about checking Obi-Wan’s ribs for breaks. 

  Obi-Wan stirs when Jango is hooking up the second set of tubing to his mask, blinking blearily up at Jango as he freezes above him. They just sort of stare at each other for a moment, until Obi-Wan seems to get his bearings and relaxes under Ruusaan slowly dancing Force healing across his torso.

  Panic lodges in Jango’s throat as Obi-Wan makes several attempts to lift his hand, grunting in frustration. Ruusaan glares, but allows it when he can finally raise a loose fist to Jango’s chest, tapping over his beskar’ta in proxy of his own, thanking Jango like he had actually done anything, and Jango has to lean on the head of the bunk with both hands. 

  “K’atini,” Obi-Wan whispers, voice sounding like it’d gone through a woodchipper, and Jango thinks kriff that, this is worse than pain, and they shouldn’t have to watch this kriffing kid die because of it.

-

Mando’a:  shuk’la buirok — lit. “broken parent bond”, made up term for the real ability for a child to “divorce” their parent, legally labeling them as dar’buir or “no longer a parent”, which i’ve based on the term for spousal divorce shuk’la riduurok. Haat Mando’ade — lit. “true children of Mandalore”, True Mandalorians (slang shortened to Haat'ad/e)  beskar’gam — Armour made of beskar, “Mandalorian Iron” that was actually probably a steel alloy gai bal manda — Mando’a adoption ceremony, lit. “name and soul” buir — “parent”, gender neutral  vode — “brothers, comrades, siblings”, sing. vod, technically gender neutral but used most often in fandom as “brothers” beskar’ta — “iron heart”, the elongated hex-shape common in Mandalorian armour designs (great post here comparing them to katana tsuba). also called kar’ta beskar or “heart of the iron”. K'atini — “it is only pain”, used in the context of “get up. Keep going. You can and you will survive this.”

would gffa’s advanced medicine be able to perform mastectomies without scarring? yes. obi chose to keep his.

[starwarsfic]

II.2

Originally posted September 21, 2020

Summary: Obi-Wan was used to missions going badly--but being kidnapped by his long lost cousins was still unusual.

Details: Born a Mandalorian Obi-Wan. Sequel to I.19

CW: drugging, kidnapping

xxxxxx

Obi-Wan woke up on a ship. Kamino had been brimming with life, the sea and city full of it, and the sudden change was a shock to his system.

They were in hyperspace and there were two others on board, he discerned in a matter of moments. One was familiar--Jan'ika, Jango, his older cousin. They used to play games in the fields around his house, Jango teaching him all the things their buire didn't have time for, and he'd memorized the sense of him in the Force from when they played hiding games. The other he recognized after that as Boba.

They'd drugged him.

He sat up, looking around the small cabin, and let out a string of expletives in twelve different languages. His report to the Council was unfinished--he needed to inform them about this "clone army" and the clear danger it presented to the Order.

With a sinking feeling, he wondered if that was why he'd been captured.

Outside the room, Jango and Boba seemed to have noticed he was awake somehow (monitoring the noise in the cabin) and were coming towards him. He entertained the idea of overpowering them and getting to the cockpit, sending out a message on Jedi frequencies for help from the nearest Knights, but dismissed it. Jango didn't seem the type to leave him that sort of opening.

"Ob'ika," Jango greeted when he opened the door, Boba bounding in before him and slamming into Obi-Wan.

Not knowing what to do with his hands but hold Boba back, Obi-Wan thought he must look like a ridiculous picture, hugging Boba and glaring over his head at Jango. "Why did you kidnap me?"

"I'm rescuing you," Jango replied, in pointed Mando'a.

"The Kaminoans were planning something?" He kept to Mando'a himself, unsure if Jango would answer if he used Basic and not wanting to take any longer than he had to to get his answers.

"No." That confirmed his own feelings in the Force. "From the Jedi."

Obi-Wan stared, nonplussed. The conversation they'd had just before he'd been drugged came back to him and he gave an involuntary shudder.

"Let me send a comm to them, I'll let them know I'm still following a lead, they won't come looking for me right away," he lied, already composing the message in his head to include the right keywords.

Jango seemed to consider it, moving closer to them, gently stroking Obi-Wan's hair when he loomed over them. "Nice try, I almost believed it."

"What now?"

"We're going to Concord Dawn!" Boba explained, buzzing with excitement.

His one buir had been from there. And Jaster. And Jango. Who must see this as something like going home.

"Have you been there before, Boba?" Obi-Wan turned his full attention to the boy, not wanting to go in circles with Jango anymore.

"No! Have you?"

He shook his head. "No, I grew up in Keldabe."

Boba's eyes were wide. "In Manda'yaim?"

"Yes, my buire lived there to be nearer to your ba'buir."

Jango's hair slid to cup the back of his neck and Obi-Wan didn't need the Force to inform him of the possessive intent. "Your buir and dar'buir."

His eyes widened, even if his buire had divorced, it wouldn't mean that one of them suddenly wasn't his buir. The only way that would come about would be....

"Your dar'buir stole you from House Mereel. She was declared dar'Manda for such a crime."

"I didn't know that," he breathed out. "I'd thought...."

Maybe he hadn't let himself think too closely about it, he realized, because looking back on what little he remembered, it was suspicious. Just one of his buire speaking with the Jedi? Not being able to say goodbye to the rest of the Clan, even though it was so small?

"Boba, could you go start dinner?"

The boy slipped out of his arms at Jango's question, murmuring goodbye before heading out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. Jango's hand dipped down, running circles along his back, clearly trying to be comforting.

How could he be comforted, realizing that he'd been kidnapped? All the awful rumors about Jedi stealing children and they'd unknowingly done it with him.

Jango sat down on the bed beside him, leaning in so their foreheads were touching. Breath catching at the intimate contact, Obi-Wan closed his eyes, soaking up what little calm he could.

He had to find out everything before he could escape, so for now, he could play along.

xxxxxx

A/N: Requested by members of my discord

Mando'a: Jan'ika, Bob'ika, Ob'ika - Cutesy nicknames given to kids/loved ones/etc buir/buire - parent/parents (like a gender neutral mom/dad) ba'buir - grandparent dar'buir - former parent dar'Manda - a disgraced former Mandalorian

[prankprincess123]

I mean the Jedi don't forcibly separate children from their families, or from their culture, even though upon a child entering the order they are expected to see the Jedi as their only family. The Jedi and Mandalorians both have cultures that largely rely on found-family (even if most Jedi would balk at the term) Mando's outright calling their adopted children foundlings, and Jedi younglings calling the Knights/Masters who brought them to the Temple their 'Finders', and often see them as parental figures even once they become Padawans and their Master fills most of that role. Both Jedi and Mandalorians have family dynamics where children have multiple parental figures as the Jedi have their lineage Masters, Crech Masters, Finders, and in some cases species specific mentors (ex: Shakk Ti being the Clan Mother for all Togrutan Jedi) and on Mandalore you can legally be adopted by any number of people because their adoption laws are literally just "ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad" ("I know your name as my child") and then saying the child's name, regardless of if they already have a dozen parents or not (and the only way to dissolve the adoption is for the child in question to declare "dar'buir" ("not parent")) The difference however is that Mandalorians can be part of multiple clans through this adoption method (something which could both start and end clan rivalries) while the Jedi expect eachother to be all the family any of them has, wants, or needs. So it's not that Jedi force children from their families (though the slanderous stories of Jedi being baby stealers certainly don't help) but that the Jedi don't comprehend the concept of needing anyone else, while the Mandalorians can't comprehend how the Jedi could be so selfish as not to allow children to remain part of their birth clan after being taken into their new clan.

Simultaneously the best and most terrifying thing that could happen in Star Wars would be if the Jedi and Mandalorians somehow found a way to get along and merge at least some aspects of their cultures (and the Clones would have to play a part in such a blending for it to work on a large scale) This is part of why The Mandalorian is such a compelling narrative, cause we all know Baby Yoda is gonna be jumping around in Beskar with a Lightsaber in one hand and a blaster in the other. This is part of why the Korkie Kenobi theory, or even Obi-wan and Satine as a couple at all, has such appeal to so many. This is part of why people love the Jedi and Clone dynamics so much, particularly in areas where Clone culture is blatantly an adoption of Mandalorian culture. This is part of why people love the dynamics of the Ghost crew so much. This is part of why the Seige of Mandalore arc is so powerful. Because if a Mandalorian and a Jedi can get along for even five minutes, they realize that they fight because they're too similar, become an absolutely deadly alliance and you really better run, cause if you piss them off you're dead, and if they like you, you're theirs now; there is no escape.

One of the things I love about Mandalorian culture is that it basically involves loving who ever you want, raising as many kids as you want, wearing cool body armor and flying around on highly unreliable jetpacks, and trying to shoot a space wizard who can send bullets back at you which is peak herbo/himbo culture. But seriously you don't get in trouble for picking a laser sword that's the wrong color, being forced to never see your parents as a toddler because you could move blocks with your mind, or never allowed to have family or life outside the Jedi order. One of the things that the EU established is both how family oriented Mando culture and one of the reasons they dislike the Jedi is partially because they force a child to separate from their family.

[jacensolodjo]

I wish i knew why my parents continue to be stubborn about the air freshener/candle/perfume/overpowering scents thing

it's been years and still they keep trying new things as if to trip me up and catch me out on some kind of lie lmao

what exactly would be my goal here to lie about my migraines? when getting these migraines disrupts my life? You think I want to have an excuse to miss stuff i actually wanna do?

i found out they used a new air freshener they apparently 'didn't plug in until 2' after I mentioned I was wondering all day why I had a migraine.

joke's on them I didn't wake up until around that time to begin with today lmao

oops

[jacensolodjo]

either you didn't hear me or you misheard me. It can't be both, father.

[jacensolodjo]

Me: used to say bye to mom every time I left the house but the woman would never acknowledge it until I was running late repeating myself to get her attention.

Me: finally just gives up wasting all that time and effort.

Dad, at total random ages after i decided to stop: you should say goodbye to your mother when you leave.

Me: does so

Mom: no answer.

Me: exasperated face

Dad: takes multiple tries to get mom's attention, predictably making me run late.

Me, internally: now do you see why I haven't fucking bothered for years now?

[jacensolodjo]

I hate when ppl (my dad) expect me to be a mindreader and automatically know the day's itinerary. Like I would in fact had been ready if you had used your words like an adult.

[jacensolodjo]

Getting old having dad take shit out on me and then pretend I'm the bad guy in this situation by shutting down and then activating avoidance protocol.

[jacensolodjo]

Apparently it's somehow my fault that I expect people to know that if my utensils light up that they have batteries and we don't expose batteries to water so stop putting them in the dishwasher. Even when I remind people MULTIPLE TIMES. I'd love to clean my chopsticks myself when I go into the kitchen with them but the sink is taller than I am and it is very uncomfortable trying to clean them as soon as I bring my plate in. OR someone else takes my plate in and then just chucks my battery powered chopsticks into the dishwasher.

at some point it is no longer something I can prevent but is totally on the other party lmao If you take my utensils out of my eyesight you are responsible for them, not me.

Hopefully these new ones coming in last longer. They're useful for when I want to eat in the dark when I'm having a migraine or whatever so I can actually see what I'm eating without the overhead light on

I'm just going to end up giving up and using my bathroom sink to clean them even though that really isn't a good place to clean utensils because it's you know a bathroom.

[jacensolodjo]

Told my dad I masked up at pride (as I do everywhere with big crowds). He wanted to know why since 'covid is over'. Sir, one of us came down with covid when we relaxed mask wearing and it wasn't me.

It is like saying maybe we don't need to wear condoms anymore because AIDS is more under control now. It is still here. It still kills. I will protect myself as much as I can and will continue to risk assess because this isn't the fucking common cold.

[jacensolodjo]

Weather has been shitty so we have kept the dog door closed and my parents neglected to tell me when they'd leave and how long they'd be gone but i told THEM abt my appt today and now they're mad the dogs couldn't hold their bladders until I got home lmao and disciplining dogs so far after the fact won't work because they can't associate the behavior anymore but my parents apparently don't know that pfft

[jacensolodjo]

Me: they should put a cap on what they can charge for mobility aids like scooters Dad: that's communism Me:

[jacensolodjo]

my dad when he runs into things: rants for up to five minutes about how dare that thing be there and will also blame anyone around him for apparently putting the thing there specifically to trip him up.  Me: runs into something I wasn’t expecting which HURTS because lmao chronic pain and ends up swearing softly and grumbling that I didn’t expect it. Dad: you need to fix your bad attitude about stuff. You shouldn’t get so annoyed when you run into something you didn’t expect.  Me, in my head: okay boomer. at least i don’t rant and bitch for minutes on end instead of just swearing once and moving on because guess what swearing does help pain.

[jacensolodjo]

At some point my parents really need to accept that because of my adhd and everything else that my voice is just my voice. It is not in fact me being bitchy. It is my normal voice. It has been this way since puberty at least. The only way it changes is when I make a conscious effort and usually I am very tired. Often it takes me a couple sentences to reign my voice in.

At some point they will have to accept me the way I am. Lmao