I’m just thinking that a time-travel AU that requires the team to reorient as Mandalorians where, at the first incident of someone asking questions, Obi-Wan declares “I know their names as my children” about Anakin and Ahsoka, making both of them cry later on in private, would be very nice, actually.
This wasn’t planned! He just SAID it!
“These are my kids,” says Obi-Wan Kenobi, on the spot, thinking it’s just a convenient and largely accurate way to describe his relationship with these young people in his care, completely missing the fact that he’s secured Anakin’s obsessive will-kill-for-you loyalty in the span of two seconds.
“That was just a cover, right?” “It might as well be true, Anakin, I did raise you for half your life and trained you as a warrior, that counts by Mando standards, and explaining Jedi-style apprenticeships would–” “I think Skyguy’s just asking if you really think of him as family.” “Well, obviously.”
Maybe he waffles a bit about age and how he’s not really OLD ENOUGH to be Anakin’s father but from a cultural perspective–
Just like… Obi-wan using a lot of hedging words because he’s allergic to telling Anakin he cares, but also, Anakin is basically his son-brother.
(Ahsoka knows but would def appreciate hearing, but Anakin… that kind of verbal confirmation would mean a lot.)
Undecided as to whether there’s de-aging involved so Anakin isn’t a proper adult and is thus young enough to actually get adopted, or if this is just Obi-Wan going “well, retroactively…”
Like, okay, imagine this.
You’re a True Mandalorian in that awkward period between the death of Jaster Mereel and the mess that is Galidraan. You’re still a movement, a faction, a meaningful political stance with some degree of popular support from moderates in your system. You’re not as strong as you were before the death of your Mand’alor, but Jango’s doing pretty well, and you have high hopes.
In walks this thirty-something Jedi-looking motherfucker, in robes with some small amount of armor, the second-most ridiculously Core accent you’ve ever heard outside a holo screen, and two kids who look ready to bite someone. The human one is twelve-ish and angry and wearing clothes that are too big for him, and has a lightsaber that he can’t really wrap his entire hand around. The Togruta looks about eight, is chomping her way through a freshly killed, still bleeding lizard the size of her arm, clinging to the human kid’s tunics, and looking around like she’s got no fear whatsoever.
“Hello, there!” the probably-Jedi sumbitch says, completely ignoring the fact that he’s in cuffs, and being paraded in with great suspicion by a squad of six. He sounds more like he’s some politician asking for directions in a palace. “I’m afraid we appear to have had something of a misunderstanding. I don’t suppose there’s someone I could speak with to get this straightened out?”
What the fuck, you think, but this isn’t your problem. You’re just on guard duty. You send the punk who got assigned to work with you to get Fett, because this might be a very calm and polite Jedi, but it’s still a Jedi.