#bringing back my first season mando feels

[youwillfindilluminating]

okay okay yeah the internet is almost too obsessed with pedro pascal and yet... uhh... when he said, “it’s okay baby girl, I got you,” I did, in fact, lose my mind

[peterparkersnose]

Feeling You

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: david’s episode and themes along with that, reader is chained up, david is literally creepy and disgusting, reader kills a person, description of death, angst, joel cannot physically feel anything, trauma description, ellie’s aftermath of david, religious trauma, mentions of weapons

a/n hi season finale my life is over at least we got mando still 💪

summary Y/N confesses something to Joel she shouldn’t have when she saw him awake for the first time in weeks after his accident

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 13 mins 10 seconds

The feeling of panic woke you up. The strange dream you couldn’t remember faded as your senses came back to you. It was cold and your head was pounding. The cold air nipped your nose. Your clothes felt like there was space between the fabric and your skin, you could feel the stinging cold prick your skin. You lay flat on what you could only imagine was a bed. It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever and only made your back stiff. Joel’s flannel from the night before had kept you warm enough to survive. Gaining the muster to move, you tried to yank your feet on the floor. Your right leg was cuffed to the bed pole.

“She’s awake,” you heard someone call, and commotion started around you. Blinking your eyes and trying to adjust to what was happening, the noise of a padlock being opened distracted you. “Good morning,”

You recognized that voice. The man that you and Ellie encountered in the woods. What was his name…David? How did you even get here?

“I’m glad to see your up.”

You scuffled on your hands, propping yourself up in bed. “Where is she?” you shivered, moving your free leg up to your chest. The only other thought that consumed your brain was the little girl you were protecting.

“You must be cold. Here,” David said, snapping his fingers. One of his friends fed a blanket through the bars that were currently entrapping you. He draped the blanket over you. You hated it, but had no choice but to accept it.

“Where is she?” you reiterated. “She’s fine.” David ensured to you. “All comfy like you.”

“This is far from comfortable.” you hissed at him. “Just, tell me a few things and I can make you feel real comfortable.” David said. His tone made your stomach drop.

“Where is he?” David asked, mimicking your insistent question.

You knew he meant Joel. That’s all they wanted. Joel. You and Ellie were just the sad accessories that came along with him. “With the rest of the group.” you lied. David sucked his teeth. “Tell the truth,” he said, standing up over you. Scooting over in the small bed, you tried to put as much distance between you and the man.

“God doesn’t look down well on liars,”

‘What a freak’ you thought to yourself. You remembered reading old stories about cults that mimicked his teachings, or what he had preached at you the night he found you and Ellie.

“What kind of god makes our world a living hell?” you taunted. “Why would you believe in some shit cause? Have you seen what is out there?”

A subtle but dark smile came to David’s face. He brought up his hand and promptly slapped you on the cheek. Hard. The all too familiar needle like feeling seeped in on your cheek. The taste of blood slowly began to form in your mouth.

“We all need a father. We all need some guidance.” David said, bringing his hand up to your face again. You winced, hoping he wouldn’t strike you again. Instead, his fingers grabbed your chin. “There’s always time to repent,”

He inspected your face, forcing it to turn in whichever angle he would like. Blood filled your gums and began to dribble down your face as he squeezed your cheeks together. “Such a pretty thing,” he sighed. You spat in his face. He sighed and wiped the blood and spit mixture from his forehead with his sleeve.

He let go and stepped back. “I see your confidence, I see your leadership, I see myself in you.” he explained, taking another step back. “We could lead, you know. Bring greatness to this group. I could give you a future. A future with me.”

A new kind of fear began as you slowly began to realize what he truly wanted from you. The only thing you were good for in his eyes, maybe besides your flesh. His eyes seemed to undress you under the few layers of clothes you had on. They had taken your coat the previous night and you were left in your jeans and one of Joel’s flannels you stole from his pack to stay warm.

“Just give him up and I’ll give you the world.”

You sat silently. It was obvious that David was getting annoyed. “He’s just your old dad. It’s probably better if my guys get to him before the-”

“He’s not my dad.” you said harshly. “Well,” David laughed. “My apologies.”

He dragged the stool from the corner of the cell to the side of the bed. He straddled the stool and got a little too close for comfort. “Is he her dad?” he asked. You shook your head no. ��Uncle, brother, cousin…? I’m trying to understand the relationship so I don’t hurt the little girl too much.”

You looked away and focused on the painted white brick wall. He was searching for leverage, an advantage you were not about to give him. The breathing exercises were not working when you could smell David’s rancid breath on you. “Oh,” he said with a smirk. “I get it.”

“Your with him.”

Closing your eyes, you moved your hand over your face. “Aren’t you a little young for such an old geezer?” he asked. You shook your head no. What a fucking narcissist. This man had to be Joel’s age, and from the looks of how much hair he had left I would say, maybe, older.

The age gap was the one thing keeping you from going the extra step and pursuing Joel. The mutual attraction had been present for a while, but you both were too afraid to face the facts. And now that he was as good as dead, the mere thought of what could have been stung harder than it should have.

“If your not gonna talk, then I’m just going to move to your little friend.” David sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get what he wanted out of you without some sort of leverage. His original plan hadn’t worked.

“No,” you called out, wanting to swallow your words back down. David’s back turned around again. “Then tell me pretty girl,” he said, each step echoing in the jail cell as he got closer to you. “Are you fucking him?” he asked, his nose almost touching yours. With lips pursed and your eyes tightly closed, you shook your head no. Your face rose with heat at the mere implication. 

“Liar.” he spit at you. He left you once again and sat outside your cage with his friends.

You began to doze off. Caged to the bed like a dog and freezing wasn’t the best headspace to stay in. You tried to imagine the penicillin Ellie came back with had some sort of super power and resurrected Joel so he could come kill this red headed motherfucker that wouldn’t stop staring you down. So that he could rescue you and Ellie and you could return to Jackson to get proper treatment and then take Ellie to the lab that was supposedly in Salt Lake City. So Joel could return to you and just be there and be alive. You missed Joel endlessly, even though you were just with him hours prior. And the last time you saw him, he was as good as gone.

As you were dreaming about the unlikely future, the men began to stir. One left, and another followed. There was muffled arguing down the hallway. David was getting angry about all the commotion and went to see what was happening.

“She what?” you heard him yell down the hall. “You mean to tell me she’s escaped?”

Your lungs caught your breath too hard when you heard him say that. She’s escaped? Ellie?

“Watch her.” David commanded, poking his head in the room and yelling at a man who you believed to be named James. He sat down in David’s stool and stared at you. You slowly began to get up, your leg chain dangling off the bed. James didn't say a word. 

Suddenly, two gunshots rang out. You grabbed for the white painted bars blocking you from leaving, and tripping on your leg chain. “No!” you screamed, pulling yourself back up. “No,” you said quieter, the reality of Ellie’s death started to become a little too real for your comfort. 

James had arisen, his hand rested on his gun in it’s holster as he anxiously stared at the door. He took a step back, contemplating what he was going to do. His back was turned to you. Another shot rang out, and James jumped backwards. In the hassle, the keychain holding your key to freedom was conveniently sticking out of his back pocket and was accessible to you. Without hesitation, you grabbed the keys and along fell out his knife. 

James was quick to react, grabbing your hand with the keys interlocked in your fingers. He grunted as your other hand met the set of keys and started to pry his cold, lanky fingers off the keys. James was hesitant to drop his gun, it would have been in reach for you. He was clueless that his knife was in reach where he couldn't see. 

“Fine,” he said, giving up. He let go and let you have the keys. “The second you try anything…” 

He looked over at his gun. He was still level with you on the ground. Sliding the keys behind you, you quickly grabbed the knife from behind him. Panic flashed in his eyes as you grabbed his neck and swiftly impaled his neck with the knife. He began to choke, and you pushed it in once again. His gun fell from his hand as he uselessly pawed at his neck. 

After a few tries with the various keys, you finally unlocked your leg from the chain that had been wrapped around your ankle all night. Quickly, you escaped your jail cell. You grabbed James’s knife from his neck and wiped it off on your jeans. Also, you stole his gun. 

You were shaking. Freezing and adrenaline wasn't the best combination at the moment. You were unsure of where to go. Where was Ellie? Where would Ellie go? You were all she had left. The cold hallway with a door with light pouring out under it seemed like the smart choice. 

When you opened the door, you were hit like a brick wall with a gust of wind blowing snow in your direction. Your arm immediately came to cover your eyes as you hastily made your way through the snow cloud. Just as it was about to clear, two arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you out in to the open. 

After grunting and fighting what you prayed wasn’t David or one of his associates, your hands were held behind your back tightly. Screaming and wriggling, you couldn’t hear the voice of your new partner in crime trying to calm you. 

“Y/N!” you finally heard. The haze around you seemed to settle. “Hey! It’s me,” 

You opened your eyes from the struggle and thought you were hallucinating from the evident dehydration and starvation. His hands now rested on your shoulders as he looked at you with the first inkling of real fear you had ever seen behind his eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Joel asked in a gutted tone, staring at the formation of a red handprint on your face. The fear turned into rage behind his eyes. All you could do was stare in to his face and enjoy the safe feeling once again. An unintentional sob came from you. Joel quickly embraced you. 

His hand shook as he cradled your head in his hand. “I got you,” he whispered, holding your body tight against his. “T-they still have her.” you whispered in his ear. 

Joel’s body stiffened. 

“Where?” he asked, letting you go. He reached for his coat, sliding it off his arms. “I don’t know I was trying to find her and—”

Joel noticed your hands and grabbed for them. They were covered in fresh blood. “Fuck,” he whimpered. “Go find her.” you said, pulling your hands away from his. “But—”

“Go,” you trembled. 

Joel’s longing look was one you were never going to forget. He saw the gun tucked in your pants and gave you a nod. “Hide,” he said in a hushed voice. 

As he was about to leave, you called out his name. He turned to you with a hurtful sigh. He was limping. Swallowing, you spit out the words to the man you had fallen for across this journey across the country. “I love you,” 

He was taken aback. It was definitely sudden and unexpected. His lips parted slightly in shock. Joel’s need to protect Ellie was strong at the moment. He didn’t have time to give in to these childish antics at the moment.

“I…”

His feelings for you wanted to stay, but his duty to Ellie, his duty to Sarah was more important than a silly crush on a silly girl. This whole time he thought he was just being delusional. All the little things, little moments the two of you shared he thought was just out of pure alliance and survival. 

Nausea filled you as you as you realized he had to go. He wasn’t going to say it back; from everything you knew about Joel Miller, you should have expected this exact reaction. He was unable to love, unable to just say it back to someone who was significantly younger than him and was a stranger just six months ago. Joel would regret this moment for the rest of his life. He stared at you in disbelief, unsure of what to do. He watched as your lips pursed and your hands wrap around your stomach, trying to keep yourself warm. 

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, turning away from you. 

You watched as you zipped his coat up as another gust of wind threw snow around the open space and he was gone.

Quickly, your eyes darted for a hiding spot. The survival instinct came in and tried its best to shut out the hurt you had just caused yourself. An old heat radiator stood a few feet to your left, in the direction Joel was. A produce crate covered in snow was another foot away and you picked it up, placing it next to the radiator. You sat on the freezing ground, clutching the gun and praying for something to go right today. 

A terrible scream erupted in the town’s square. You recognized that scream anywhere. Ellie, the little girl you had been with practically since her birth was in trouble. Your heart pounded in your chest as you jumped from your hiding space and ran towards the screaming. When you arrived, you stopped a few feet behind them. Joel was holding Ellie just as he was holding you moments before, moments before you had just fucked everything up. A lump rose in your throat as you feared the worst. 

“Ellie!” you yelled loudly and clear, catching the little girl’s attention. She looked up at you and wailed, her face was covered in blood. Almost falling on your knees mid run to her, she left Joel’s arms and collapsed in to yours. 

“Oh, baby.” you murmured, brushing her hair our of her face. She held on to you and sobbed in to your chest. You offered soft words of assurance, unaware of what monstrosities Ellie had just survived. Slowly rocking her back and forth, your hand intertwined with hers as you tried to calm her down. Brief words through the sobs Ellie let out broke your heart. 

“Y/N-” Joel said with a raspy voice. You shot him a look of hurt as you rested your chin on Ellie’s head. You slowly shook your head in disappointment. “It’s okay, Ellie.” you whispered in her ear. “Your safe now.”

“We really should go,” Joel urged, anxiously looking around. You closed your eyes, ignoring him. Ellie’s wails had subsided, but her grip on your waist hadn’t let up. 

“Let’s go,” you whispered to her, using the sleeves of Joel’s coat to wipe some of the blood off of her face. Joel was right. You all were heavily exposed at the moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

--

It was now night. The horse was gone, and Joel was barely able to keep upright for long. You had found a cave while trying to hunt down a rabbit. The three of you were going to rest there for the night. 

Ellie hadn’t left your side. Her hand was in yours as you made your way up the cold mountainside. Slowly, the three of you trudged upward. 

The rabbit you had caught for dinner was average. Joel was hurt, but still useful. He made a fire and helped Ellie get comfortable. She was in dire need for a good night of sleep. Hell, you all were in dire need for a good night of sleep. No words had been spoken between you and Joel since the small town. 

Ellie’s head rested in your lap. You sat against the wall of the cave and watched Ellie as she slowly took in breaths. Joel was fixated on the flames, making sure they were still roaring strong. 

“You should get some sleep,” Joel said, breaking the tension. You shrugged. “I-I can take first watch,” he offered. “No.” you said back bitterly. 

“Y/N,” Joel sighed, adjusting his tone to yours. “Are you going to be bitter the rest of this trip?” he asked bluntly. Your head snapped to look up at him. Joel raised an eyebrow. 

“I just need some time, Joel.” 

“Well, you kinda said it at the worst time possible.” he muttered, using the ground to stand up and fetch another log of wood for the fire. “Well,” you seethed. “I thought you were dead. When I saw you…I had to.” 

You sighed and closed your eyes as you heard him toss the wood on the fire. 

Joel’s shoulders slumped as he slid down back against the wall. “Yeah, I know.” he said heavily. “It’s just hard for me to hear things like that.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have been more… considerate.” you apologized, searching for the right word. Joel was right; wrong time and wrong place. Stretching your legs out towards the fire, Ellie stirred in her sleep. You and Joel stared at the girl, waiting for her to calm. Her grasp on your hand tightened, but she seemed to fall back into her hazy state.

“I failed her,” Joel said, a tinge of sadness backed up his tone. “Joel, no.” you sighed. “I-I should have been there. I should have been more careful and…”

His face scrunched as he placed his hand on his forehead, shielding his eyes. Was he… no. Was he?

Slowly, you moved Ellie off your lap. She let out a few grunts of protest, but you placed your backpack under her head. You scuffled next to Joel. He seemed to jump at your touch. “Joel,” you whispered, grabbing his hand in yours. Tears welled in his eyes. “I failed her Y/N.” 

The definition of her was falling on a fine line between Ellie and Sarah. 

“No you didn’t. You saved us, Joel. You saved her.” 

The two of you stared at Ellie. She was sound asleep. Ellie was now clean, you had helped her clean up in a freezing stream. It almost felt like a proud parent moment in some odd, fucked up way. The two of you staring at your miracle kid. She had survived and endured so much for her age. It was almost odd to see her resting so peacefully. The knowledge that the two of you got her there safely was enough to keep the hope flowing.

Your other hand fell over the one you had holding on to his, and your head rested on his shoulder. 

“I love that kid so fucking much,” Joel blurted out, his free hand moving to wipe a tear out of his face. “I know.” you said, feeling the emotions in you begin to rise. “I love her too,” you whispered, your eyebrows falling soft. Joel tried to keep it in, but a sudden gasp for air made it evident that he was crying. 

Sitting with him was the best thing you could do. Your hand rubbed over his knuckles that had healed from the events of leaving the Boston QZ. Slowly, testing your limits, your arm wrapped around his shoulders. He moved his head in to the nape of your neck and sighed. He was hiding behind you from his feelings and the world. You were his metaphorical escape. 

Joel’s mind wandered to all the previous moments the two of you had shared. Awkward, brief stares at each other in the Boston QZ periodically before you two actually knew each other. When you bandaged him up after a bullet graze. Your hands were so soft and you worked so carefully, making sure the process was as painless as you could make it. Or when you shared your last meal with him. You ripped the disgusting piece of jerky up and insisted he ate it. The two of you were sitting in what used to be a park and was watching Ellie play on the fragile equipment when it happened. One of the few moments she actually got to live like a kid. 

“Y/N?” Joel whispered in your ear. Turning to look at him, his eyes were red and puffy. “I do love you, you know.” 

A thin lipped smile rose to your face. You nodded. “I’m not very good at these kinds of things… I’m sorry.” he sighed.

You rejected his apology and rested your head back on his shoulder. “I know. Me too,” you managed to say, with a slight chuckle at the end. Your hand wrapping over his slowly turned in to his hand intertwining with yours. “We’ll get through this. Together.” you assured him. Joel nodded, leaning in to kiss you softly on the forehead. You felt a rush of happiness fill you at this small gesture. 

Joel was a hard man to crack, you had known that since the first day you met him. His stubbornness was relentless. This meant the world to you. 

Now as the two of you lay side by side, you felt him wrap his arms around you. Joel was so warm, it was comforting. He pulled you close, not caring what Ellie would think when she awoke. You both closed their eyes, praying this remote cave was safe enough to not stay up and watch for any danger. And it was. 

Joel was healing physically, but the shattered man inside began repairs as the night moved on. He knew he could do anything, feel anything, and try to be even an inkling of the man he used to be with you at his side.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy

[gffa]

Hi :)

I'm a pretty new SW fan, not because I didn't like the movies/hadn't seen them but because I grew up thinking it was extremely nerdy and would often feel awkward trying to bring up anything related to SW.

Fortunately I've finally reached and met awesome people who love SW just like I did but I feel like I lost A LOT of important stuff and there's so much content to the saga that it's extremely overwhelming for me to even think about diving into the whole SW universe and catch up.

I've been following you for a bit and your posts are just extremely interesting to me but again, sometimes I'm a little confused about certain things and so I wanted to ask you if you had any recommendations about where to start catching up (besides the movies which I will be binge watching soon hehe)

Hi! Welcome to Star Wars fandom, I hope you're having a good time! And around here we embrace being as nerdy as possible--I mean, fandom is such a mainstream thing these days, but I still like to embrace being a nerd about things because it leads to a lot more happiness, to just be silly and having a good time with the thing that tickles our brains.

But, yes, it is pretty overwhelming when you're first arriving, I still remember when I first came back to SW several years ago, having really only watched the movies as a kid, and there was All This Stuff and it seemed impossible to ever reach the deep end of the pool, and that was before the last seven years of books, games, movies, comics, etc. came out! I will hopefully set your mind at ease with this, though: The vast, vast majority of content that Star Wars puts out isn't anything I would consider "essential". It's wonderful, fantastic stuff! But a lot of us have just been around so long that we're combing through the finer details of supplementary material, rather than those being absolute Must-Read/Watch To Get A Feel For Star Wars.

My recommendations for How To Get A Feel For Star Wars is basically, start with the animated series and the live action series, they're the second layer of foundation in the Star Wars building, all the comics and novels and such will be built on them, and in this order: - The movies, this is the foundation on which everything else will be built. - The Clone Wars, season 1-6 are part of George Lucas' story and they're pretty essential (at least in this corner of SW fandom) to understanding wtf anyone is talking about or even watching many of the live action series. (Season 7 is fine and should be watched! It's just not part of Lucas' Star Wars.) - Star Wars: Rebels, starts off light-hearted but really is one of the best developed shows and does a lot of connective work between the prequels and the original trilogy. - The Mandalorian, set 9 years after Return of the Jedi, this show just massively blew up and while each season is slightly less well-done than the previous one (imo), it's well worth watching for wtf fandom is talking about half of the time. (The Book of Boba Fett is somewhat optional in this corner of fandom, but imo worth the watch. Generally, it should go Mando s1-2 --> TBOBF --> Mando s3.) - Obi-Wan Kenobi, because this corner of fandom lost our goddamned minds about it and still haven't gotten them back. - Andor, which is a really great show and, as long as you've watched Rogue One first, you'll follow along just fine. Does some solid connecting the dots between the prequels and the originals, but not as much as Rebels did. - Jedi: Fallen Order, you can look up a "movie" version on YouTube for the story of this game, which is a really good plot, has some great new characters, has some genuinely effective cameos, and will be referenced fairly often in other materials/in fandom.

If you're not feeling overwhelmed by All The Star Wars You've Consumed, I would personally suggest going for the comics next, over any of the novels. The novels are great! But the vast majority of them are self-contained and meant to be supplementary material even more than the comics, which get to tell bigger, more connected stories. I always suggest starting with: - Star Wars 2015 by Jason Aaron + Darth Vader 2015 by Kieron Gillen, both of which are really, solidly fantastic stories about the timeframe just after A New Hope, like there are so many absolutely banger lines that came out of these comics. I won't spoil them, just know that I think these were legitimately good comics, not just legitimately good Star Wars comics. (The first six issues of each series are meant to be read concurrently, but after that, you can just pick one and read in that specific title.) - Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith 2017 by Charles Soule, which is set in the immediate aftermath of Revenge of the Sith. If Gillen's Vader keeps the mystique of the originals Unknowable Darth Vader, then Soule's Vader is more about the absolute BATSHIT DRAMA that is blending Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader. This series is BANANAPANTS in the absolute best way. - Obi-Wan & Anakin 2015 by Charles Soule, which is a five-issue mini-series set between The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones and is both stunningly beautiful art and a solidly good plot that survives fairly serious analysis of. It's got some great worldbuilding details, but even more I like it for the look at why a young Anakin chooses to stay with the Jedi Order.

The one book I will recommend--for a list aimed at getting you caught up on what fandom is referencing--is the Revenge of the Sith novelization by Matthew Stover, that book is quoted constantly, and I'm not sure any other SW book has ever been as good as it is.

I feel like this is the best set of reading to get you familiarized with the source material that tends to come up the most! There's lots more that's really good, but once you get through the above, you can let me know what era or characters you're most interested in or if you have a specific question about something and want to see where it comes from!

But there's one thing to address and you're kinda going to have to figure out how to approach it on your own. 😂 There is a ton of stuff in SW fandom that's ostensibly from a book or a comic, but the version in fandom often comes from those who never actually read the books/haven't read them in a long time or are just picking them up from other fic and meta.

For example, the AgriCorps or Melida/Daan get referenced in fic and in posts all the time, but I wouldn't necessarily recommend reading the Jedi Apprentice series (I mean, I'm not your mom, feel free if you want to!) and often times how they're used in fic is not how they were used in the source material. Or the clones speaking Mando'a comes from the Legends books by Karen Traviss and she is a whole big can of ugly worms (both what she wrote and her IRL politics), as well as much of what she wrote was overwritten/discarded when The Clone Wars came out, but fandom likes the idea and so they put that into their fics (as they should, if they like it!). The idea of Mace using the lightsaber form of Vaapad is from Legends sources (the best source probably being the Shatterpoint novel by Matthew Stover, I'd guess?), same for his ability to see "shatterpoints" in the Force, which aren't part of Lucas' continuity or Disney's continuity, but fandom enjoys using them to flesh out Mace's character. This will get you started and, if you're looking for something more specific, feel free to ask, I enjoy these kinds of question--and don't feel you have to stick with any of the above if they're not fun for you. This is meant to be enjoyable, it's meant to have a good time, there's no wrong way to consume Star Wars media! <3

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 10: The Confessional

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Din takes care of you. And you both expose more of yourselves than you intend.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), canon-typical violence, eventual smut/filth, post season 3, more blood and injuries, but we’re healing. Reader is upset about being blinded. Anxiety attack described. Involuntary(ish) voyeurism. Deeply earnest.

A/N: As promised, some tender stuff. Thank you for spending your time with these two characters that I have fallen hard for.

--

A low groan signals you’re coming to. Thank the Worlds, Din thinks, and leans up to give reassurance.

‘Hey, y—’

You give a panicked shriek, confusion and terror lacing your voice as you thrash your head from side to side. Two fists pummel at Din’s chest as he tries to hold your convulsing figure. You arch your back before trying to lurch upwards.

‘Sssh, sshh, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ he urges. ‘You’re okay.’

‘Get off me!’ you snarl. ‘I’ll fucking kill you.’ Hands seek out pressure points, jabbing into Din’s armour and making you yelp in pain. Your sudden movement causes the seal on your middle to tear open, blood bubbles from the wound.

‘Listen, gods listen! You have to stop.’ He says your name. ‘You’re with me.’

You’re weakened from the freeze, so he catches hold of your fingers easily, stopping your attempts at needling him. He holds your hands away from him as gently as he can. You just start whispering no, no, no in a voice so forlorn Din trembles.

‘Cyar’ika…’ he speaks over your pleas. ‘Cyar’ika, please. It’s me. It’s Din.’

He murmurs reassurances as you slowly come to stillness, just your chest rising and falling a little too fast and your eyes darting back and forth.

‘Wha—Din?’ you ask.

‘Mando, I mean,’ he swallows, tightens his hands on yours just a little. ‘Din is… Din is my actual name. Din Djarin. And you’re on the Crest. You’re safe.’

‘Oh. Din Djarin,’ you whisper. He’ll save thinking about how that makes him feel for later.

You pause.

‘Why’s it dark?’

‘That is--’ he sighs. ‘Do you remember being put into the carbon freeze?’

Din let’s go of your hands as you raise them to your eyes, moving them in front of your vision. ‘I’m blind.’ He hears the tears pressing on your words.

‘It will not last.’

‘I’ve heard—’

‘On old ships with off-market tech and tainted carbonite – this was a Class H job. And your eyes were closed when you went in, shielding them from the worst of it. Your sight will return, I swear.’

You start to lower your hands and then give a pained groan.

‘Oh fuck, everything hurts.’

‘We will deal with it, cyar’ika. Just be brave for a little longer.’

--

‘I will count from three, okay?’ 

‘Yup, okay.’ 

‘Three, two, now…’ A hiss and a sizzling sound fills the air. You swear you’re being sawed in half.

‘Fuuuck!’ Your hand flies up and lands a vice grip on the first thing in reach, a warm firm mass that jolts under your palm.

The Mandalorian grunts and shifts forward slightly, draws the smoking device across your shredded muscle. It knits and seals across itself as the laser moves.

‘Easy, I have you. Almost there.’

You hiss an affirmative and screw your sightless eyes shut against tears, huffing deep breaths and sinking your nails into whatever you’re holding onto.

‘There,’ he murmurs, lifting his hands away and capping the nozzle, fumbling it a little.

The pain in your side eases fast. You blow the air from your lungs and sigh out a small, frazzled laugh. You flex your hand a bit against the strain of gripping so tightly and freeze. Your hand. Your hand clenching against the hard muscle of Din’s thigh.

You hold in surprise for another moment, stretching your fingers to feel the thickness of his leg. It flexes slightly. You come back to yourself in a rush.

‘Sorry!’ You pull your hand away and hold it across your forehead, wiping sweaty strands of hair back and forth before bringing it to cover your mouth, burning with embarrassment. 

He says nothing. You feel movement and hear rustling for a moment. Then a rip and whoosh sound that must be a cleanser sponge filling with disinfectant. A cool, soft sensation moves over your stomach. Din is gently working the blood and gore off of your torso, dabbing at the area around the now cauterised wound with care.

You lay in silence for a while, long enough that you start to pay attention to the touch of his fingers on your stomach. He’s using one hand to wipe at the dried blood and fluids, while the other rests lightly just below your ribs, holding you steady. They are so incredibly soft and large. When the cleanser sticks on a stubborn spot, his hand keeps going for a moment and fingers ghost across your hip. The sensation sparks a welling of emotion not just made of a sudden arousal but every ounce of fear and longing and panic that led to this moment.

A strained sob bursts out of you.

He freezes. ‘Sorry. I hurt you.’

‘No, no it’s alright,’ you let your tears go, what’s the point of holding it in. ‘Just, just feeling like such a damsel, yet again.’

Din gets a new cleanser and continues his ministrations on your body.

‘What do you mean?’ he asks, rubbing at the stubborn spot carefully.

‘Like, ugh, that prison camp, and then the Estate, and now all of this,’ you motion with an arm up and down yourself. ‘You just, needing to rescue me over and over.’

Oh, and there it is. ‘Shit. Why would you even keep putting up with me?’

The motions on your torso stop. But the hands don’t leave your body. For a man of few if almost no words most of the time, in this moment you feel like he is gathering himself to say many. After a beat, he continues to work on cleaning you up. Then he speaks.

‘At the prison, you will remember I had been tasked with your safe retrieval, by any means necessary. Jobs like that are tricky: you need to do a lot of violence to many while keeping one specific person unharmed. So, with jobs like that, I prepare. I was scoping your prison escort for some time with a cambot. Watching them, and watching you. Getting a read so that when I went in, I could act efficiently. 

‘It was when they took a detour that I decided to act early.’

You hiss in a breath as you remember those four guards, deciding to try to play with you just because they thought that they could.

‘I was still watching the cambot as I moved to ambush, and then I saw you. A deadly look on your face, and—’ He picks up both your hands and you suck in air. Cooling fingers move your right hand so it’s rigid and flat, fingers together, then your left so it is held in a fist, heel tightly set against the opposite palm. Mindful of your shoulder, he holds your hands so your elbows are in a V in front of you before releasing them.

It’s a familiar posture to you.

‘I saw you do this. It meant nothing to me at the time, but now I know it as your readying stance. You were preparing to fight them yourself. All four, and you believed you were alone.’

He chuckles softly. It’s like music. ‘And later, when we encountered those six other guards—’

‘There were five guards,’ you interrupt, falling into his trap.

‘There were six. And I never did figure out what you did with the sixth one.’

Your turn to laugh, though it’s still strained. You rub at drying tears. 

‘I stuffed ‘em in a garbage unit in the wall.’

A genuine laugh from behind the visor makes your body break out in a wave of goosebumps, from the tip of your head to every one of your toes.

‘Anyway,’ he continues, ‘You will not convince me that you would not have found a way out of that cursed place yourself. I am just satisfied to have helped expedite the procedure.’

You can’t help the smile spreading across your face. 

He seems to be done with your midriff. A moment of rustling and tearing again and then the cool softness is on your face. Right, that’s covered in blood too. Not yours. The smile drops and you shiver.

‘Okay?’ He says, like it’s his touch doing it.

‘Yeah, okay. Just, remembering.’

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘Not yet.’

You think you hear him nod. Even though that makes no sense.

‘Then the Estate,’ he carries on. ‘Well, I was already about to go find you when the perimeter sirens screamed to life. I was sitting at that overpriced bar and—’ He stops himself for a second. ‘And thought a proper goodbye was in order at least, at least for Grogu.’

The coolness swipes across your bottom lip and your mouth falls open a little. It’s involuntary, of course. It just feels so nice. But Din pauses. You think you hear a modulated raspy exhale, but it’s too quiet for you to be sure. The soft pressure leaves your mouth and returns near your temple. You let your lips press together and lean a little toward his efforts.

‘Then they declared invasion,’ Din carries on, but you would swear on your life his voice has dropped not a small amount. ‘And well, what state did I find you in there?’

You smirk at the definitely unintentional phrasing. He is not referring to finding you half naked and sweaty. Ass almost on display. Chest heaving while throwing yourself into his arms. 

‘Flipping a reaper across your back with barely any effort and strangling him with the scraps of your gown.’ Din’s voice is full of amusement. ‘Again, I just expedited what you already had handled.’

He strokes your cheek. ‘You have always had it handled.’

You don’t bother informing him that you were scared out of your mind that night. That you felt so fucking vulnerable with nothing but chiffon and dainty bracelets as your armour. You had felt anger, and betrayal, and a desperate loneliness borne of knowing you couldn’t trust your own family. And when you had seen him, gods, when you’d seen him it was like salvation itself. You felt then that you would never choose to leave him again.

‘And this time,’ he says. He seems to be done with his treatment of you. You hear another packet torn open and something layered across your abdomen, covering the site of the injury. It tightens into a firm seal. He pulls back. You feel suddenly too cold with the absence of his touch. ‘This time you—’ He makes a choking sound, releases a shaky breath, and stills. 

Is he… crying? Nah, unlikely.

All in a rush, he says, ‘You were only in that hellhole because of me. Because of what I wanted. Up until the very last second you did everything to get that beskar off that ship. And I did not do a single thing right.’

He stands and you hear him take several steps back. 

‘I have dealt with your injuries. You should rest now and, when you are ready, make use of the fresher.’ He moves to the door, collects something from the end of the bed.

‘I will stay close if you need anything.’

And then he’s gone and you lay there, raising one hand to your middle and the other to your face. 

It’s obvious Mando – no, Din, Din Djarin – did a good job getting the worst of the gore off you. But you feel sticky and itchy from head to toe anyway. Rest would be easier once you’d been able to scrub yourself all over.

Having faith in the plaster seal over your stab wound and only gingerly feeling a twinge in your shoulder, you decide to head for the fresher. Getting there blind isn’t that hard, round the foot of the bed and straight on. You shuffle your feet through the mess of discarded medical paraphernalia littering the floor on your way. Pawing at the door jam, you reach out and find the switch for the overhead jet, nudging it to your usual warmth dial. Then you feel about yourself, easing the shredded tunic over your head and letting the remnants of your under-singlet fall to the floor. Topless, you unbuckle and push your bottoms down.

Stepping into the warm jet stream is the most heavenly thing you’ve felt since Mando’s – Din’s – hands were on your body.

--

He fiddles uselessly with the power input. Why is he even doing this when you could fix it yourself in the blink of an eye. He’s just biding time, dithering while he collects himself.

He said way too much in there. She’s going to put it all together, he thinks. She claimed she couldn’t read him but that was never true. And now she’ll know everything. Every single thought, rotating in neon light across his chrome skull.

How could she feel comfortable on his ship then? Why would she stay?

And, after all that, he hadn’t even apologised.

The sun is setting low and he starts to feel an eagerness to check on Grogu. His son is still in a deep slumber, and he would hate to disturb him, but seeing the child’s face would bring Din great comfort right now. Just pop open the hatch and take a look, you should check on him, he performed a miracle.  

He strides up the ramp into the hold and turns toward the sleeping quarters, feet locking to the floor and body set alight such as to melt his beskar to his bones.

You.

You, standing under a spray of water, uninjured arm raised to your hair and the other holding your middle. Head tilted back into the stream, and everything, everything laid out before him. Breasts holding him in trance, those legs he’s traced over every inch with his gaze rising in a luscious curve to an apex of coy curls. You twist your face into the spray and bare your ass to him. He almost dies a little death.

Some part of his brain stays lucid enough to smack a hand to the control panel by the entry, tapping the door seals so that the cabin’s slides closed with a soft hiss. The Mandalorian spins and strides into the forested terrain, looking for a secluded spot.

--

The hushed seal of the cabin door hits your ears over the white noise of the jet. Through the very pleasant haze in which you’d let yourself indulge, you process the meaning of that sound.

Oh fuck, was the door left open? You think back, a little frantic. Din left, you lay in darkness for a while – darkness borne of your carbonite damaged eyes. Decided to get clean. Felt your way in here. Was relaxing into a not entirely licit vision. Did he close the door when he left, or leave it open? 

He left it open so he would be nearby. To look out for you.

You cringe.

This is just what you bloody needed. After being so pathetic and vulnerable, and hearing him speak so highly of you, you go and strip naked with the door wide open and make a fool of yourself. You’ve probably traumatised the poor man.

No longer taking your time, you scrub yourself from head to toe. Just get it over with. A deep fatigue has started to prick at the sides of your mind anyway – you figure letting yourself pass out as soon as possible will help quench the searing embarrassment some.

As you dress in fresh clothes and collapse back onto the bed, you do notice slight shades of light and shadow dance across your vision. Taking reassurance in that, you close your eyes and let yourself sink.

After what feels like days of sleep, it is hunger and stiff joints that urge you out of the cabin. You squint through blurry eyesight, feeling comforted by the fuzzy shapes of crates and webbing that make up the hold. Early morning light casts white fronds across the familiar space.

Empty.

Palming around until laying hands on a meal kit, you sit in the opening of the ship and let the cool air of wherever you are wash over you. 

As you eat, sleep fading and mind becoming alert, something starts to scratch at the base of your skull. You flex your neck some, but the scratch claws up into your mind’s eye. Dim, murky memories edge in. As if underwater, you hear shouts and stomping boots, laughter and sneering rage. A hot rush in your mouth. A bolt of impossible pain at your side. Then, black.

Your injury burns; it throbs in time with your thumping heart. Rising panic constricts your breathing. You’re going to die, a dull thing inside you roars.

But you’ve been here before, so you plant your hands on the cool ship floor and breathe. Once locked in on the hard unyielding sensation, you turn your face toward the sun, visualising the rays casting out the shadowy recollections. 

They’re just memories. Here you are, safe now. It is a chant to your mind and body.

While focused so deeply on quelling your anxiety, something entirely unrelated to your experience onboard the treasury presses in on your consciousness. It is gentle and undemanding, but somehow frightening. You’ve felt it before. You felt it in a dank tunnel while struggling for your life. You felt it on the treasury when sweet, desperate Grogu’s face had flared inside you and you saw for a single moment a bright vision of him and Din, aboard the Razor Crest and some few parsecs away.

You let the presence soak your fears and repel the hungry inner beast roaring at you that you’re dying. It dissolves steadily as you breathe. Once done, whatever the thing is seems content to slide back, retreat to where you can’t sense it. 

After a moment, you open your eyes again and continue to eat.

Fussing with the kit disposal for more time than necessary, you scold yourself for dallying and shuffle through the hold, touching random objects and sections of wall for balance. Stepping into the cockpit feels more like breaching a threshold than usual.

Grogu spots you and hops into your arms, cooing and purring. You murmur at him that you’re alright, you’re glad to see him, how is he feeling today…

Din is in his chair, scrolling up nav data steadily. He doesn’t turn.

‘Hey,’ you give up weakly, leaning just inside the hatch. Still doesn’t turn.

‘Morning,’ he says, voice croaky with disuse.

‘How long did I sleep?’ It’s as good a thing to say as any.

‘A little over a day.’

‘Oh.’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Better. Eyesight is improving.’

‘That is good.’

‘Uh huh.’

Grogu looks between you as you set him down again, making tiny questioning sounds. You shrug your good shoulder, knock your feet and click your tongue, glance about the space. The awkwardness may do what your anxiety attack could not and kill you anyway. 

But, thank gods, Din stands and moves around his chair. He pauses by the passenger seat you don’t usually occupy and you finally notice it. 

The satchel. 

You straighten up. Din lays a tender hand on the cache of beskar.

‘I have not adequately thanked you for bringing this into my possession,’ he whispers. You move closer to hear him. ‘In fact, adequate thanks are impossible.’

‘You don’t have t—’

‘But I assure you, I will never forget this. And I will find some way to make recompense.’

‘You don’t have t—'

He barrels over you.

‘I need to bring this back to my people. It must be returned to the clans.’

Despite everything, you can’t stop your brain from envisioning him dumping you somewhere so he can get back to his actual life, without you.

‘We will take a few days for your wounds to improve, restock supplies, let the kid stretch his legs some more.’ He hasn’t clocked into your rising panic. ‘Then, we will go to Mandalore.’

Your heart pounds and you tell it to calm the fuck down.

‘We?’ you say. He turns to you.

‘Of course.’ 

You pause, questioning whether you should even try to clarify.

‘Um, D- Din?’ He gives you his ‘I’m listening’ tilt.

‘While we were at the Estate, I uh- I took the chance to look up some about, about your people… and,’ you stutter, 'and, along with learning about beskar, it was my understanding the whole deal with your… your like, home world and your- your Coverts was just that. It was that.’

Spit it out, dummy.

‘Covert. Secret. Like, super intensely secret. No outsiders,’ you swoop a hand. Din doesn’t even pause.

‘You are the reason this sacred resource will be in the hands of the Mandalorians again. I will ensure you are welcomed. I will make them see you. This is the Way.’ His words melt into you like so much starlight. 

He makes a ‘that settles that’ motion and turns back to his post. 

You hesitate for a moment before dropping into your seat behind him, legs gone. You’re going to Mandalore. To his people. Your heart is now tumbling around your chest, not all in excitement.

--

Prev | Next

Sorry about the shower trope – it’s a problematic fave of mine.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

Thoughts on some of the Mando negativity

I just wanna start this by saying that if you didn't enjoy the premiere, then that's fine. I'm not gonna start claiming that if you didn't like it, then you aren't a SW fan because that's stupid. If you disliked it, fair enough. I'm sorry that you didn't but I totally respect that it's your opinion.

Now let's just do a quick skim through some of the criticisms I've seen.

Should probably start off with the big one, which is the whole TBOBF issue! I can understand why they wanted Din and Grogu together again for this season because their dynamic is an integral part of the show (also, because of money). But when they were reunited in TBOBF, we all knew that this was gonna be a problem. They said that they're gonna try and write it in a way that covers the things people may have missed, but it's obviously not working too well so far. 😅 Personally, it hasn't ruined my enjoyment, so I'm kinda over it now. But I totally understand the frustration and do acknowledge that it wasn't the smartest decision.

Seen some people saying that they don't like the dialogue and that it feels AI generated. Personally, I don't have much of an issue with it but I do kinda see where people are coming from. I think the biggest thing is that it feels a little exposition-y and that's probably because they're trying to bring people up to speed if they haven't seen the TBOBF (we've already addressed how well that's going though). Obviously, it's definitely not like the amazing monologues we had in Andor, but this show is also more accessible for younger audiences, so they're gonna tone it down a little bit.

Which sort of brings me onto the next point: it feels too childish. Once again, I think this is a result of Andor. The Mandalorian has always been campy and fun. Sure, you get some serious moments, but they're not going to chuck them into the first episode of the season. They're just keeping it light and quirky to bring everyone back into the world of Mando. If you didn't enjoy it, fair enough, but I don't think it's too far off from the other funny moments in the show.

It felt rushed! I'm kind of with people on this one because I do think that everything could have done with being a couple minutes longer, especially with it hopping around so much. But I didn't find it to be a major issue, just that we were hitting a lot of story beats very quickly.

Nothing happened. I think this mainly comes from the fact that this is one of the only times when we haven't had a complete story within an episode (which makes me laugh when I think about how many people complained about it being too episodic) but I do think we need to remember that this is only episode 1. The entire point of this episode is to set up the story arcs that are going to be relevant this season. There was a lot to cover and I feel like trying to tie it all in to a complete story in episode one wouldn't have worked so well. It feels like this is one of those episodes that may be slightly more accepted when the rest of the season comes out, but who knows.

So yeah, that's just my two cents on some of the criticisms I've seen. Once again, if you didn't like the episode, then that's fair. I'm not here to call anyone a fake fan or anything. SW shows are never going to be for everyone and that's fine.

The whole TBOBF fiasco definitely didn't help it out much because they're struggling to keep everyone up to speed. But we'll see how it goes throughout the season.

I think the other issue is Andor. That show was such a success (for good reason) but now it means that everyone is expecting everything to be that show (I'm seeing this with TBB as well). The Mandalorian has always been more quirky because it's designed to be consumed by a younger audience (not to say that adults can't watch it). Objectively, I do think that Andor is better, but I also can't rewatch it as much as I do Mando because it's a more emotionally heavy show. Andor is not Mando and Mando is not Andor. It's perfectly fine to prefer one over the other, but I don't think that there should be an expectation for Mando to be something that it never was. If you've fallen out of love with it, then I'm sorry to hear that.

I think the main take away is to just wait it out and see how the rest of the show goes. This is only the first episode so we can't hinge the entire season on this.

[Hopefully this didn't sound ranty. I don't wanna sound like I'm having a go at people for their opinions. 😅 This is just my thoughts on some of the critiques that I've seen.]

[tiptapricot]

Alright. Finally getting my thoughts together about Mando S3 episode 6! Forewarning this is a very critical and disappointed view on the episode, however I do try and be as nuanced and explanatory as I can, as just like with the rest of this season there is so much potential, so much I almost love, but it’s just not carried through or is handled in a way that makes me confused and frustrated.

This is somewhat organized, but not overly edited, so if things jump around a bit or if there’s typos, excuse me. Other than that, let’s get into it.

So this episode brings a first two seasons side quest vibe to stuff, which personally I enjoyed as I think those side quests (while many ppl see them as filler/a distraction from the main plot) are more ab exploring our characters under different stressors and circumstances and seeing how they act/react as a result. The design for Plazir was gorgeous and intriguing, and it was fun to see Jack Black and Lizzo and Christopher Lloyd. Similarly to a lot of people I had a “HEY I KNOW THOSE GUYS” moment, and it made me smile and laugh.

But then you get into the plot and I just. I was so icked out and uncomfortable and baffled at how it was handled. Plazir is, as it’s set up, an absolute fucking dystopia. Star Wars has never been good with its droid issues, something that always makes me extremely mad and uncomfortable, but beyond the Solo story, I think this may be one of the worst handlings of those issues yet.

I’ll be sharing ideas with the video “The Traegedy of Droids” by Pop Culture Detective pretty consistently in passing here, so please check it out if you haven’t or aren’t aware of what I’m talking about with “the issue with how SWs handles droids.”

The mini plot of this episode is, in summary, our main protagonists helping to carry out a targeted physical oppression of a droid revolution in order to maintain the droid’s enslaved class status and allow the citizens to continue living on free labor. Not only that, but the revolution and fighting back is revealed to not be a choice, but a drugged reaction from an evil human source. The droid bar literally called The Resistor is not, in fact, an underground place for droids to find community and power and push back (despite the fact that it proves they have off time and desires for relaxation and comraderie) but a place for our mains to be reminded that droids actually just love being an enslaved class, and that oh yes these violent push backs actually make them look bad, and what if they’re forced not to work anymore? No they care about their oppressors and couldn’t imagine fighting back. Action like that has to be forced out of them by humans and is unnatural to their regular existence.

And none of this is framed in the dystopian way it should be. Plazir and it’s leaders and citizens are not framed or presented in a negative light, and the moral is not put on helping the droids to not be the forced labor class for a whole planet. The interesting and terrible ideas presented are taken at face value of how the ruling class sees it, and we as the audience are meant to root for Din and Bo as they chase after a droid Din harassed into fighting back, who is running for its life and defending itself, who they kill. We are meant to be happy when they shoot it, feel triumph, see these outbursts the same way those on Plazir/our mains do. We are meant to see droids as both the enemy and as rightfully subservient.

And that’s. Absolutely fucking wild? Similarly to Solo and L3, I cannot fathom the thought process going through the writers brains while setting up a plot that focuses on droid revolution and freedom, only to treat it as a joke, or to end up condemning droids to a fate worse than death/to a content slave class. And all of this, again, our protagonists go along with.

Bo and Din never once question droid rights or sentience, never once go “oh hey we should actually help these guys out.” They stop the uprisings, Lizzo knights Grogu, and the story goes along its way like it was just an unimportant side quest, and not a nightmare. The mains don’t care, the writers don’t care, the world is telling the viewer not to care.

This is exemplified, unfortunately enough, with the use of the cameos. That reaction of “Omg haha! Lizzo! Jack Black! Mr Lloyd!” add to the comedic/trope-y framing of this episode. The acting was great, this is not against the actors present, I was happy to see them, but their presence added to the episode’s unserious/comedic/don’t think about it too much tone. Seeing celebrities we like takes the focus off of the content of the plot and onto “Haha people I like!” And that sours their presence for me.

And like. Droid stuff not being serious has always been around, with protagonists playing into/joking about droid oppression right from the original trilogy, but hating droids has within the mandalorian itself been built up to be unreasonable and a flaw.

Din is droid-racist. That’s been part of his character since the start, and it has been something he has grown with, that the story has attempted to show him working against despite his prejudices. Yes, he is not over his hate for droids, trusting a few will not change his views on them all, and his actions still being violent and prejudiced this episode are not totally out of character. But he’s been shown to be working on that, and the issue comes with the fact that these actions are not seen as an issue past being impulsive. Kicking a line of workers until one lashes out, saying “if they’re programmed right they shouldn’t mind,” threatening to kill a droid bartender, not questioning forced labor, being excited to kill droids, are all framed as funny or correct or just regular “fighting before talking” type characterization, and not as the deeply flawed and bigoted actions they are.

I’ve seen people in fandom saying “well it’s because of his battle droid PTSD” “din still hates droids that wasn’t resolved” “he’s not just going to be fine around the droids that killed his parents” and like. Yeah, sure. But that doesn’t excuse the actions. They should still be seen as a big fucking issue, as him acting grossly out of line and holding up a “one bad experience means the whole group is bad forever” mentality. Not just a character quirk or something funny or an excuse. The best I can liken it to atm is racism from war vets against the group they fought against. You may be able to understand the distrust and trauma associations but hey guess what! Doesn’t excuse the racism/xenophobia/etc.! But the plot and story framing sure does, and it’s been effective, because the fandom has been doing the same thing too! And it’s. Wild to me!

Like I get many people don’t think about stuff, because again that’s how the world frames it, but you gotta? You gotta see the messages being pushed here?

And from a narrative standpoint you can’t just introduce a storyline like this without dealing with the implications it therefore burdens the story with discussing. Otherwise you end up with something reductive, trivializing, and at its core really really ideologically gross, which is what we got here.

This also doesn’t even touch on:

—The further use of the amnesty program in a way that doesn’t fully dig into the messed up results or the irl parallels to operation paperclip

—Ugnaughts being the only organic labor class we see besides those monitoring security, another group that’s framed as loving to work on the things the ruling class don’t want to, and also living in the dark underground

—The implications of direct democracy and non-militant societies being seen as weak and unreasonable

—Leaders finding loopholes in their laws to intact violence into a revolting class without having to answer for the repercussions of rule breaking

Mainly because I don’t have the brain to unpack all of it. But hey! Just shows how much they introduced with no real thought of how big a can of worms it opened up from a political and social perspective. Something that while a constant in Star Wars at this point never makes it alright. It’s lazy and shows the underlying racist/capitalist politics running through most main pieces of the universe, of which this episode I’d say is probably Mando’s most outright example of. (There are exceptions, Andor being a huge one, but lord is that an exception with everything around it)

And like in concept a neo-noir detective story/procedural with the mando cast sounds awesome, that’s one of my favorite genres, but this was just good old fashioned copaganda and race/class fumble episode with no real nuance, point, or lingering effects on our characters and their view of droids. When I’m fully able to say Detroit become human did a better job handling the ideas of robot sentience/freedom/uprising/changing sides, I think you need to take a good hard look at your story.

So just. That’s that part of the episode. And that’s already so much, but then we have the ending/it’s ties into the overall plot.

From the start we get no real explanation for why Din is with Bo and no one else, what the fallout of the armorer’s decision and reveal of Bo’s place in things had on the covert or on Din and Bo. We just jump in. Then you have Din and Bo showing their individual leading strengths in the episode, the balance between diplomacy and action, heavily implying some joint ruling need, or even showing Din finally showing leadership skills.

But then we get to the final scene with the Axe and Bo fight, and I’ll say I loved that combat! Beat each other up! It was great and I think shows their competence and the statement that fighting makes in mando culture, as well as asserting Bo’s place leading her group. But then we also get two really fucking stupid things.

The first is Axe saying Din isn’t a real mando because of blood even though that? Has never really been a staple of the culture??? This opens up an idea that the night owls have different views on Mandalorian culture than the larger consensus that understands it as a religion, a culture, a people, but not a homogenous group with direct biological descent. Foundlings are huge! So where is this coming from? What’s the background there?

It muddies up a lot of character stuff, culture stuff, and the analogies Mandalorian culture has to real life groups like the Jewish community, various Indigenous and colonized communities, etc. As with so much of this season, Mandalorian culture and politics is begging to be explored, to be fleshed out and dug into in a deeper way than it has been already, and even with new ideas the writers decide to use, it’s given almost no focus. It’s frustrating and disheartening.

Second, ofc, is the Darksaber hand off. I have talked previously about one of the largest issues this season being the writers wrapping up Din’s arcs and plots with no real focus or fanfare, and this was another slap in the face in that regard. Officially, every single important thing from the end of S2 has been wrapped up either in a spin off series that shouldn’t even have had sm Din focus, or in the second episode of the third season. Everything that poised Din for a huge character arc at the end of season 2, at a fundamental change and exploration in himself, has been tossed aside. And it makes no sense to do that. So let’s go through them each!

1. Grogu. Throughout the first two seasons Din and Grogu’s relationship was a focus. It was about Din breaking rules and getting into danger to save this kid, his drive to protect him, to connect him with his people, and then to save him from Gideon. We get that line “He is more important to me than you will ever know,” and then Din has to give him away. This sets up exploring how Grogu has changed him, how that relationship has affected them both, how Din now operates without him.

But then he was reunited with Grogu relatively easily, and there has been no focus on how the newfound understanding of Grogu’s importance to Din affects their relationship now. He hasn’t even recognized himself as Grogu’s father yet, and there’s been no real bonding moments past some in the first two episodes and the background shallow cute moments in others. There’s been no side interactions of Din asking about what Grogu learned, or treasuring having him back, or reflecting on his place as a parent, or making sure he doesn’t lose him again. In episode 6 Din even leaves Grogu with strangers he’s just met for the entire episode and that has no fallout or recognition, despite one of them being an ex-imperial.

2. Breaking the creed. Throughout the first two seasons, again, Din’s faith and his adherence to the CotW’s beliefs are a huge focus. From episode one and on we get variations of the question “Why don’t you take off your helmet?” “Just take off your helmet” “don’t mandos never take their helmets off?” And we see Din is willing to die rather than break that, rather than not be Mandalorian anymore in his eyes. But he does anyway. For Grogu. A testament to not only his growth because of him, but to his commitment to Grogu over all else.

And he is in some ways hopeless because of that. He willingly takes off his helmet again to show Grogu his face before he says goodbye, because he is all Din has left at that point, all that matters in the moment.

But, of course, there is no lasting effect. Bathing in the waters, built up to be a season long arc, was aborted to being finished in episode two with relatively extreme ease, and even then, had no lingering focus on what being redeemed meant for Din. There was no questioning or clinging to faith, no discussions of how much this meant for him, no lingering on the bathing (because it was turned into a rescue action scene for Bo’s story!), no discussion of how being accepted back and cleansed affected him. One of the largest parts of the character since his introduction is. A footnote.

3. The darksaber/ruler of Mandalore story. This one’s just. Nothing. Also resolved retroactively in episode 2, and with no plot presence otherwise. To start this out, no I didn’t think Din was going to have this great rise to being Mand’alor, that was never really where the plot was going in my eyes. But no matter where it should’ve gone or what it should’ve been, it should’ve been something. Yes! He doesn’t want it! So show us why, show us what that responsibility or implication means to him, why his sect of culture doesn’t care about it, why he doesn’t believe himself to be the one to rule or unite. Make him giving it up feel as earned as if he’d kept it. This is one of the most frustrating aspects of this episode and a final straw in my vendetta against the writers.

The dark saber doesn’t even make an appearance between episodes two and six, it’s that unimportant. There is no conversation with Paz or the Armorer, who both know Din has it. There is no discussion about what it means with Jedi vs Mando history, or with Bo Katan about her history with it. This therefore makes Din having it pointless. It did nothing beyond maybe some combat scenes and the brief Butt up against Paz in BoBF. Another case of more actual plot engagement being in BoBF than the main show. There was no point for it to change hands to Din, because him having it changed nothing, made no one grow, made no one think. It affected Bo, which I’ll touch on again in a bit, but the story blooming there could’ve come around by many other means and was not tied to Din at all.

But before I dig into that aspect, the amount of times I’ve seen “Din never wanted the saber that’s why hes finding an easy loophole to give it up” “Din likes being a side character” stuff is so!!! Like!!! Yes! He doesn’t want it he doesn’t want action and responsibility and he doesn’t care about it but he is not making choices he is not real he is being written lazily! This is the writers not wanting to engage with their own character that they built up and created and set the arcs in motion for.

A show can have multiple mains, can shift character focus, but “The Mandalorian” at its inception was referring to Din Djarin and there was no precident for that focus to completely shift. This isn’t a show that changes protags every season, he used to be a shape in the title, is on the merch and the branding. And if there is meant to be a protagonist shift it has to be gradual, and to still involve his development in the impact on that other character. The explanation of “Well it’s called The Mandalorian not Din Djarin” just makes me really mad cause yeah? It is? But it’s also called Star Wars and not Luke Skywalker but we still understand he is the main protagonist, even if other characters develop and are present alongside him.

And there’s no excuse to sideline Din, because the truth is he does have growth to get, he does have arcs to explore, the only reason he’s so flat and has nothing to work towards right now is because the writers threw that away. Specifically in ways that did not make sense from a character or writing perspective.

And why is that? Because they wanted to write someone else, they wanted to write Bo Katan.

Which is exciting! I love Bo as a character from what I’ve seen of her. She is complex and flawed and has a deeply fucked up past that’s intrinsically connected to Mandalore and it’s future. That is a fascinating character to work with, and I don’t mind her being more present in Mando as it tracks for the goal of bringing Mandalorians together. But! This plot is not doing her justice either.

Throughout this season Bo has been dragged along through the shallows in her own journey. There has been no discussion of her past, of Death Watch’s terrorism and torture and murder, of Satine, of her several past attempts to lead Mandalore, of her history with the civil wars and with clan Viszla and with so much more. Which is wild, because you’d think a season which has chosen to focus on her would? Give a shit about her? Would actually engage with the character she is and what she brings to the table?

Instead she’s been handed every plot point, reduced to a girlboss leader, and her rise to getting the saber again is not only forced with no real discussion or nuance, but she’s once again been given it on a technicality. Just as Din giving up the saber is not a decision and shift earned by development, Bo getting it again isn’t either.

And as I mentioned earlier, she was affected by Din getting the saber in that it led to her people leaving her, and led her to question things, but it being Din having the saber means nothing. The same thing would’ve happened had anyone else gotten the saber, or had it been vented off into space or lost or hidden or whatever. By giving it to a specific character, that begs for interaction over that ownership, for discussion and reflection and connection with that character.

And yet there has been nothing. Bo and Din have had some good interactions, yes, but the development the show seems to want for Bo, seems to want the audience to be rooting for and going along with, is not being shown.

To make all of this more basic, the issue with this episode and this whole season thus far, is that it refuses to engage with its own ideas to a fault. It doesn’t want to get its hands messy, doesn’t want to untie the complicated and fascinating and fucked up knot it’s tied for itself. Instead it’s slicing through all of those Gordian style and leaving us to wonder about what might’ve been, about what the story seems to want to be.

I love a lot of the concepts this season, I love what it could be. I love the characters and the world and the religion and the politics, but I have to actually see what is set up, what is set in motion, what is built, to feel like I am watching the show I loved at the start.

And though it’s not as relevant to this episode, it feels relevant here: This should’ve been a Mandalorian politics season, not a new republic politics season.

Yes, they are intertwined, but at the moment the new republic development feels like a main focus, meant to set things up for further installments in the franchise or retroactively explain pst choices, and the mandalorian culture a side focus, and this has caused a detriment to both. Neither gets explored in their full complexity and nuance, and the story feels unfocused and weirdly disjointed as a result.

I’ve seen people upset by the great divide or presence of fandom negativity lately and I get that, but I feel there needs to be an understanding that people aren’t hating just to hate, this is a serious disappointment with the tanking quality of the show and it’s lack of commitment to itself. When something doesn’t deliver on what it markets itself to be, what the writing lays a basis for, that breaks trust and engagement and enjoyment, and leads to people being pissed. It happens. You can still enjoy the show, while also recognizing there is a boatload of valid criticism and issues and flawed messages that are making people uncomfortable, disinterested, and angry.

And having expectations doesnt devalue those criticisms either. I’ve seen a lot of talk of like “you wanted it to be something it’s not” and while that’s true in some cases, I had no solid ideas for this season beyond… what it showed it was going to do. And I am trying to engage with the ideas it is presenting. Again, I like the hypothetical arc at play, but the execution just. Isn’t it for me. The writing quality isn’t good and isn’t smooth and as I hope I’ve laid out, isn’t living up to its own potential or ideas.

So. Yeah.

I just want a show to be what it was begging to be, what it set itself up to be, what the characters and plot threads are wanting to be, but aren’t able to reach in their entirety. I want stuff that makes sense, that makes me think, that isn’t bigoted and lazy and frustrating. But I haven’t been getting that. And that really sucks.

TLDR: a train wreck in motion, but it was carrying cargo I would’ve loved to see.

[fanfoolishness]

Random spoilery thoughts for The Apostate based on my deliriously watching it way after my bedtime last night, but before rewatching it tonight with the husband:

Was very excited to see Bo-Katan’s helmet in the credits. She’s really going places this season, huh?

Loved seeing glimpses of the helmet ritual. I was worried that the kid was going to be baby Din, even though he looked absolutely nothing like him; I was relieved to see it was present day, but I still would’ve liked another flashback to kid!Din. Also, does Din just not have flashbacks anymore? I kind of miss them.

A little salty we didn’t see any Mando’a in this whole ritual. But, I loved seeing the Armorer more. She’s always an intense, mesmerizing presence and even though I now distrust her (is she Force-sensitive? the way she somehow realized that croc-monster was coming… not to mention some of her other appearances where she seems to know more than people are telling her) I always love seeing her do her thing.

I want to try and write something about Din wishing he was welcome for Grogu’s sake (so he can be around other Mandalorians besides Din and discover the community for himself) but can’t seem to figure it out.

Wish we saw some more non-human Mandalorians though :(

SPACE WHALES! Purrgil, yes? Man I still need to watch Rebels. But I obstinately want to watch all of Clone Wars first (we made it to season 5! We’re so close!)

I love that Grogu was both entranced by them but also a little scared because they were just so vast. Hence the need for a cuddle, which Din did not object to.

HIGH MAGISTRATE GREEF KARGA, please, if we have to spin off more characters from The Mandalorian to get to their own TV shows, we need to see Greef just Carl Weathersing around. Everything with him is just delightful! Let his cloak get longer every episode, please please please.

Not sure at all about this harebrained IG-11 idea, Din, but I loved that we could hear some of the music that used to play for Kuiil in the theme there, and that Din straight-up called IG his friend.

DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN WHAT WAS THAT I did not expect DROID HORROR here!!!

Love to see Nevarro all grown up! Greef may still be a little shady and obviously self-serving but I love that he wants to bring other people along with him too. The more wealth around in general the more for him too, right? So of course Nevarro needs to get respectable and dank farrik, he’s just the man to do it.

I’m glad Cara Dune didn’t die on the way back to her home planet. I’ll miss her presence as a friend and comrade to Din but I won’t miss Gina Carano’s bullshittery. Maybe we can meet a buff female Mando this season to add to the roster if we have to be adding new characters.

Big man in tiny room 😍

GROGU NO omg I love that he is just as awful as real toddlers sometimes 😂

…and yet Din thinks it’s time for him to learn about hyperspace navigation what even is this parenting technique

I still miss the Razor Crest, but I like that the Naboo thing (what is it called again?) makes Din even more menacing as a pilot

Dad Is My Seatbelt ❤️

I enjoy the mossy pirate. He is rather disgusting but I’ve never seen a design quite like that before.

Bo-Katan really has nothing better to do these days than lecture Din, does she? I love how disillusioned she’s become with the Darksaber. “Just wave that thing around and they’ll do whatever you say.” I also love that she calls out Din’s tribe for being superstitious and weird again. Like we all know Din is gonna ride a mythosaur by the end of this season or next and he’ll find the mines and they better be super cool, but I’m still feeling solidarity with Bo-Katan, resident skeptic

I just need Din to really sit down and think, “Do I regret taking my helmet off? It was always to help Grogu. To try and keep him alive, to try and find him, to say goodbye to him. Don’t I owe loyalty to him, too? Do I feel like an apostate?” Figure your shit out, sir!

But in the meantime, keep proudly telling everyone you meet your son’s horrible name. I made myself laugh for a minute straight when I realized Greef is over here thinking Din named Grogu that on purpose

Plotwise, definitely the most scattered premiere of the show, and because of it, not the most effective episode. I’d give it a B - perfectly enjoyable and some really fun, surprising moments, but it’s not asking the big questions that it keeps hinting at just yet. I hope they get there.

[thecleverqueer]

Ways I see Episode 8 of Ahsoka going:

Full discretion, I haven’t the slightest clue (which makes me nervous).

Up until now, I’ve had a pretty clear idea of where the narrative was headed, but I’m in the dark now. Still, here are my theories:

Thrawn absolutely makes it back to the known galaxy. I feel like this is an obvious given based on previous narratives (Mando season 3 and Filoni /Favreau interviews indicating that they wanted Thrawn to be the main villain of the era). I don’t know what Thrawn’s motivations are. Possibly revenge. Possibly a promise that he made to the emperor. Regardless, he’s going to bring the Imperial Remnants together. They’ll be a formidable force to be reckoned with. They’ll lead directly or slightly indirectly into the First Order.

Morgan Elsbeth will either make it out with Thrawn or will be killed by Ahsoka. I assume the three mothers will be in tow (with or without Elsbeth). It’s pretty apparent that those boxes that Thrawn was loading onto his ship are Nightsister (or Nightbrother) remains. This will be another problem for the New Republic to deal with. They’ll likely rebuild Dathomir while allying themselves with the Imperial Remnants. They’ll also likely show up in Skeleton Crew (pure speculation, but pirates and the undead chasing kids around sounds like a good time). I’m betting on Elsbeth’s survival.

Baylan is absolutely staying behind to chase after whatever greater voice calls to him. They may leave this plot thread open since Ray passed, but I feel like whatever it is he’s after; he’ll ultimately unleash. We won’t find out what it is this season. Maybe the movie? Maybe season two of Ahsoka should it get a second season? I don’t know. Ultimately, it’ll be a problem. It will likely require Ahsoka and all of her little Bokken Jedi (stray cats) to deal with.

Shin will either return to Thrawn with no other options in front of her, or she’ll turn to the light and join Ahsoka and her Bokkens. I imagine she’ll likely work with Thrawn and Elsbeth for a while longer, and they’ll abuse her. She’ll turn to the light inevitably. Clearly, it calls to her.

Now for the heroes… I can see this going one of three ways:

1.) I think this is the least likely options, but they all make it out of Peridea safely… by the skin of their ass. They’ll end the series where they link up with Hera on Lothal, and there will be an emotional “well, we’re fucked, but at least we have each other” moment. I don’t think this is likely because I honestly don’t think Ahsoka thought this through, and I don’t think they have the coordinates to get back without the whales that go to Peridea to die. Which leaves me with two more likely scenarios:

2.) All three heroes (Sabine, Ezra and Ahsoka) are left at the end of the story… stranded on Peridea. With no logical way home, they’ll have to work together to find a way to navigate back on Ahsoka’s shuttle in a later story. An argument can be made that Ezra’s constant banter about “going home” is a twisted foreboding where the narrative swiftly gut punches him and goes, “well actually.” Watching them navigate this new galaxy together in an attempt to get home could be compelling in the event they have actually green-lighted a second season of Ahsoka.

3.) Ezra makes it out in a dramatic fashion on the Chimera trying to stop Thrawn from getting back to the known Galaxy… which basically makes him Thrawn’s captive once more, and Ahsoka and Sabine are left stranded on Peridea… and, honestly, this seems like the most likely scenario. This really raises the stakes in a lot of different ways. First, we have Ezra back home, but not the way he’d planned to be back at all. Second, we have Sabine and Ahsoka trying to figure out a way off Peridea together which will allow for character development on the part of Sabine (she clearly has many lessons to learn as she has basically damned the galaxy over an attachment which we know is a big no-no in the “Star Wars: Lessons” department, and never ends well). It could also open the door for more mystical adventures, and a potential for them to work together to try and stop Baylan from doing whatever it is that he’s doing. We could also just have the two of them trying to navigate back through the unknown galaxy with Huyang which would doubtlessly be pure gold.

Things I don’t think will happen to the heroes (that other fans are hellbent on):

*Ezra dies.

If it were Lucas, and Sabine did what she did… Ezra absolutely would die, but this is Filoni and Disney. Ezra lives.

*Ezra sacrifices himself, and stays behind alone.

I don’t think that this would be a fair option considering that it was Sabine that screwed the Galaxy, and basically made Ezra’s self-imposed exile meaningless. I think he gets back to the known galaxy… either with Thrawn or with Sabine and Ahsoka.

*Sabine sacrifices herself, and stays behind alone.

Sabine is the one that has the lesson in “letting go” and “sacrificing for the greater good” to learn, but I can’t see Ahsoka letting Sabine stay on Peridea alone. Also, Sabine getting left behind would ensure another story would be wasted going back to Peridea again to fetch another lost Comrade… which is lazy and lame.

*Ahsoka sacrifices herself, and stays behind alone.

While this could happen, it would be lame and not very narratively fulfilling mainly because Ahsoka jumping into a whale’s mouth to save Sabine was enough of a sacrifice. It is Sabine that needs to learn the lesson, and she’ll learn nothing if she gets to go back to the main galaxy with Ezra and live happily ever after with he and the Ghost Crew while Ahsoka sacrifices herself and stays behind. Also worth noting, the whole premise of the series is this master/ apprentice relationship between Ahsoka and Sabine which has been fractured and should be at least on the mend by the end of the series /season. It seems clear that Filoni’s goal (as well as the way the show has been marketed) here is to make Sabine part of the disaster lineage which will require Sabine and Ahsoka to spend more time with one another. I think if one is left behind, the other will be there too.

*Ahsoka dies.

Ha ha ha ha ha! Ahsoka can’t die. Let’s move on.

*Ahsoka will be saved by the Skeleton Crew.

So, I will start by saying that I don’t know a lot about the Skeleton Crew, but from what I do know, it’s about kids getting lost in the Star Wars Galaxy. They run into Jude Law, and they have to find their way home. I tend to think that they’re going to end up lost in the known galaxy, not Peridea because how TF would they end up there? There’s also been rumors about pirates and Jawas, which once again, are in the known galaxy (and maybe this will finally open the door for a live-action Hondo).

Anyway, there are two big reasons that I don’t think Ahsoka will even show up in Skeleton Crew (and if she does, it’ll only be as a minor cameo). 1.) it’s supposed to be about the kids in the show and their experience, and if Ahsoka shows up in this capacity, then the show immediately becomes about Ahsoka being rescued. Let’s be honest. Ahsoka would absolutely hijack their show, and if you’re trying to build new characters and stories, this isn’t how it’s done. 2.) Dave neither wrote nor directed any Skeleton Crew, and Dave is pretty protective of Ahsoka and her story. I don’t think, at this point, that Dave would let anyone write canon stories about her without direct, credit-worthy involvement. I might be wrong, but look at the track record. I think I’m right.

Anyway. I guess we’ll see.

[cilil]

For any prompts (November or December or even maybe Dead Dove, but nice!)

Navë and Námo being CUTE

⸙ Prompt: Wandering Spirits | Námo & Navëquen ⸙ Synopsis: Navëquen has been thinking about those who don't heed Námo's call. ⸙ Warnings: / ⸙ Quadruple drabble

» AN: Your wish is my command~

"Is it true what the Children say about this season, my lord?" 

Námo tore his gaze away from the horizon and looked at his attendant instead. Beneath his impassive exterior, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had sensed the question coming and already knew its true purpose, even if Navëquen chose not to reveal it. 

"You mean ghosts and spirits haunting the lands of Middle-earth around this time of the year?" Námo asked, though he already knew the answer. 

As expected, Navëquen nodded dutifully. "The fëar keep telling me about it, my lord. Some of them even ask me to let them return for such purposes, and I saw that some were not deceiving me." 

"Well, it is certainly true that some fëar refuse to heed my call and end up lingering for various purposes... sometimes not even by choice," Námo said. 

Navëquen contemplated his words for a while. 

"I remember you teaching me that upholding the free will of all beings is our most sacred task, and the law is but a consequence," he mused, "Thus we must respect the choice that some will not come to Mandos." 

"Indeed."

"However, it cannot be right that some fëar are held back against their will." 

Námo nodded quietly. 

"Do you want me to go then and bring them home?" 

"First I would rather ask if this is what you want." 

Navëquen seemed stunned by his response, then lowered his head. "It bothers me, my lord."

"Is it truly the art of necromancy and how it violates the laws of death that bother you or is there any particular wrong you seek to right?" 

His silence spoke volumes, and Námo sighed, though a gentle smile appeared on his lips. "Do not misunderstand me. It was my dear sister's goal to teach the two of us compassion after all." 

"Does that mean you will allow me to go?" Navëquen asked, his mind ever sharp and focused on the task he wished to be given. 

"Not quite." Námo chuckled when he saw the confusion on his face. While his attendant was struggling to voice his true feelings, he himself had made a decision as well. "I shall go with you, and together we shall seek those who need our help – and that which you wish to bring home. Come." 

A pale hand was offered to him ever so faithfully, and he took it. 

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider liking and reblogging!♡

read more? main masterlist get tagged for my writing? tag list form

[zacksfairest]

Vaela 🦋 🎁🎈 🧨, Lehala 🧿 🦝 🎀 🍇, Ayala 🐁 🦴 🍷 🐹

♡~OC Asks~♡

Vaela

🦋What is their favorite season?

Fall, for sure. The trees are such pretty colors, there is a crisp bite to the air. And everything is reds and browns! Perfect color combination for her

🎁What is something they keep like: a souvenir, a keepsake, or a family heirloom; that means a lot to them? Why is it so important to them?

Hmmm. I think that once all is said and done and she's off doing Her Thing and makes it clear to her family that this is her life now, her dad would gift her with an old quiver of his. It's actually his dad's quiver, and it's fairly simple, but it harkens back to the days of when they were true Wood Elves—likely from back Aeranth at some point in their lineage. He would have given her the bow that goes with it, but the bows she uses are so much better and his girl deserves the best. But at least she can have a piece of them on her little adventures with her, holding the ammo that keeps her safe. And of course this means a lot to her. It's nothing fancy, which goes contrary to her need for pretty things, but the thought there is overwhelming. It's a blessing to go out into the world and live the life she's made for herself, while also a prayer to keep her safe in a way that her family still feels they have failed to do (which of course they are wrong).

🎈If they could travel anywhere, where would they go?

Well, she pretty much does go everywhere now, doesn't she? What with the work she does for Aeranth. But I suppose she wishes she could spend more time on the shores and ocean. She is so familiar with the woods and forests now, but not so much the sea. She'd love to get a taste of it.

🧨If they could screw anyone without any consequences, who would they choose?

Delethil hate fuck let's go. I kid, I kid. (Or do I?) But I honestly don't really know. She remains skittish in my head until further development can be had for her. And she never really met anyone on their travels that she felt that kind of desire for. Not even Cobalt.

Lehala

🧿Do they have a superstition or belief? Such as "black cats bring bad luck", belief in ghosts, tarot, crystals, meditation, etc.

No one can touch her weapons. Only those she trusts most can handle them, and even then it makes her twitchy. This is definitely stemming from a fear of outsiders to her clan, on top of the idea that it leaves too much of an opportunity for sabotoge—even unintentional damage! But she fully believes that she will die or get seriously hurt if someone else handles her weapons. It'd need to go through rigorous tests first before she used them in battle after that. And even then she'd still be leery.

🦝What do they smell like?

Filed under: things I never consider when creating characters. But I imagine she smells kind of earthy. Fresh cut grass. Likely stemming from the grass and dirt stains on her armor after sparring.

🎀Do they have something they collect? {Stamps, rocks, stickers, etc}

Back home she definitely collects little trinkets from successful skirmishes. An arrowhead. A dagger. A broken blade. Things that remind her that she survived and is still here. She's a much more simple lady than Vaela. Pretty things don't tempt her.

🍇What is their sexuality? And what is their "type"?

She's always felt more fluid to me. Pan or bi. Definitely demi-sexual, though. She does not trust anyone to be intimate with her that she does not trust implicitly. She is a warrior and is keenly aware of how vulnerable sex makes a person. There is no desire where there isn't absolute trust for her.

🐁Do they find a creature cute, that normal people don't? Such as spiders, rats, snakes, sharks, etc?

She is a Star Wars lady, and a Mandalorian besides. There have undoubtedly been strange creatures she's come across that most would have found repulsive that she cooed over. Thinking of strills at the moment. It is absolutely not uncommon for Mandos to look at a disgusting creature and go "Oh! A baby!"

🦴Have they ever broken a bone or had any sort of major injuries before? If so, what was their ailment?

OH, MANY. MANY AILMENTS AND INJURIES. Her lekku are scarred to hell, which means those injuries were painful and near debilitating. Lekku are extremely sensitive and major damage to them can even mean death. But not my girl. She's built different. Her lekku have definitely endured a good bit of injury, but she's always managed to recover. She's been in countless battles and skirmishes and sparring sessions. She's cracked rips, broken wrists, and been stabbed and slashed. Ayala has so many scars from the life she's lived as a Mandalorian, but none in particular really stand out. The physical injuries are easy, if you ask her. It's the injuries she bears in her soul that really weigh her down the most.

🍷What is their drink of choice? Both alcoholic and non-alcoholic?

Ugh. Star Wars drinks. Anything with a kick. She isn't picky. Sometimes you need a stiff drink to knock you on your ass after a particularly rough day in the field or on the hunt. When she needs to stay sharp, however, she drinks the strongest caf she can get her hands on. The squad yells at her that she needs to drink more water. But what good is that gonna do? Caf has water in it. And now she's awake for another 12 hours. What's water gonna do other than make her need to pee? Vys'kydir absolutely has put her in a chokehold until she agrees to drain her canteen.

🐹What "pet" names do they like being used for them? {Babe, Kitten, Puppy, Mutt, etc.}

You know what's coming: cyar'ika. ner cyare. alor (but sexy. you know.). (any chiss pet names there might be lmao)

[seamstressthepainteater]

I don’t think I really like how The Mandalorian has been MCUified if that makes sense

Like the first season was it’s own thing, Mando went to different places across the galaxy trying to hide some kid he found from remnants of the fallen empire, it was largely its own thing and helped make the Star Wars galaxy seem bigger for me. It also had its own characters that managed to be memorable and interesting. It was a unique take on Star Wars I wanted to see more of.

Then season 2 comes out, and it’s a bit larger scale wise. Mando’s gotta find another Jedi to fulfill his kid’s destiny, which brings him back to going around the galaxy finding leads on one of these Jedi folks. There are a lot of returning characters in this season; most of the surviving season one character show up for at least an episode, Mayfeld gets some damn good characterization as a former imperial after being a one-note asshole in season 1, Ashoka gets an episode to learn more about Grogu and set up her own show, Boba Fett is a looming presence until he actually shows up and fucks shit up, Bo Katan returns with her besties, and even Luke Skywalker is in this bitch. Now I don’t like cameos just for the sake of having them, but the legacy characters at least either have good reason or are done well. Ashoka needs setup for a show, Fett is finally given the chance to be cool as shit, and Bo Katan going from ruler of Mandalore in Rebels to just another pirate gives context to why Gus Fring has the Darksaber (Luke’s just kinda there to be there though). I wouldn’t like to need to watch Clone Wars and Rebels to know what the hell Ashoka, Bo Katan, or the Darksaber are if I didn’t already, but I feel they’re given just enough explanation to make sense without it. And all of it was tied up in an emotional ending with Mando and Grogu that payed off everything set up throughout the season and made the entire thing feel grounded. It was probably the best ending the show could’ve had. This was the last time I would feel this way.

When Book Of Boba Fett was announced at the end of Mando season 2, I was exited. I loved how Boba Fett was handled in Mando and hoped that the show would flesh him out better. It was then that the rug was pulled from under my feet. Like Fredrick Fitzgerald Fazbear coming down upon a poor night guard in the dead of night, I was jumped with the truth of this show. This wasn’t a show about Boba Fett. This was just a season of Mando they shoved Boba Fett on for more runtime.

Theatrics aside, BOBF was just really disappointing to me. The Boba Fett stuff was kinda garbage, they perfected his character in Mando as a brutal goddamn terminator man, then they went back and went “he doesn’t want to be a bounty hunter, he just wants to live peacefully as a crime boss or something” which felt really weird to me. The Flashbacks were also so fucking boring, they could’ve been shorted down to one episode and given more time to Boba. I praised Mando season 2 for both giving legacy characters purpose and explanation so you didn’t need to know what their deal was. But you see, I’m pretty sure Cathleen Kennedy read my complement on that, realized she fucked up by making a story that can stand on its own, used her fucking Disney witch magic to go back in time, and had the guy who worked on the writing for those episodes shot at point blank range because holy shit they fucking shattered the ball with Cad Bane.

The show makes a point of saying that Cad Bane and Boba had a history, and this confused me. They never specified what exactly this history was, so I looked through everything I could get my grubby mits on. I looked through every one of both Bane and Boba’s appearances in Clone Wars, checked comics with Bane, looked through all of the officially released media I thought could be a lead. Then I noticed something about Bane in BOBF, he had a metal plate on his head. This wasn’t much, but I thought it was something, so I went through his animated appearances one more time and noticed he had the same plate in The Bad Batch. This just made me more confused, so I checked around and found it. The “history” the show was referring too. See when they brought back Clone Wars for season 7 they took unfinished arcs and gave them new life, but some were left on the cutting room floor. I said “couldn’t find any officially released material” because what they were alluding too was an unfinished episode, you can even see the part where Bane gets shot in the head. The crux of Bane and Boba’s unfinished business was an unfinished episode that wasn’t even considered canon at that point.

This was my Joker arc.

This show was so lazy, so uncaring about making the story seem complete without supplementary material, that the only thing they did to give the main villain a connection with the hero was a vague allusion to an event that wasn’t even officially released. Could they not have cut some of the boring-ass shit in the desert to flesh out this relationship? Was it too much to ask for this show to get even close to how Mando used it’s legacy characters? Was it too much to ask for competence?

Besides that, I thought that it kinda fucked up the great ending I thought Mando season 2 had. I knew they weren’t gonna be separated for that long, but I would’ve liked them to be apart a bit longer, or have them reunite in their own show. Feel the same way about Mando’s new starfighter, I think it would’ve been less alienating to have him get that in the beginning of season 3

Speaking of season 3, it’s also kinda disappointing. I think the shift from Mando to Bo Katan was disappointing, it’s like what happened to Boba Fett with Mando ironically enough, but it’s still disappointing that in a world where it seems like almost every character is slated for their own show, Bo was shoved into Mando. I also think Gus Fring seems less intimidating, I feel him being a part of this “Shadow Empire” is less threatening than a warlord trying to bring about his own empire. It also has the same problem as BOBF where you need to know stuff beforehand. I don’t think they ever explicitly state Gideon carpet bombed Mandalore, they just kinda said it was cursed. I know it was mentioned in BOBF, but again I shouldn’t need to watch another show to understand what’s going on in this one. I’m not gonna go too long with this one since it’s not over yet, but I’m not sure it’ll fix my problems with this season.

Anyway my biggest takeaway from this is that I hate Book of Boba Fett way more than I first thought.

[nightskywrites]

Mandalorian Fic Rec

in honor of the train wreck that was season 3 of one of my favorite shows coming to an end, here is a list of my personal favorite fics on ao3 that filled the hole in my soul. i've read (and reread) everything on this list at least twice, and i love ALL OF IT.

Dream Child by muchadoloo (gen, complete)

It is an old Mandalorian proverb that a child is born in one's dreams.

For over twenty years, Din has dreamed of fire and smoke, bloodshed, and bloodcurdling screams. They say it’s a bad omen. They say he's fated to be childless. They say he has no dream child.

What he does have, however, is a persistent green creature who sneaks into his ship, eats all his food, and refuses to leave him alone.

(In which, all Mandalorians receive recurring dreams of their intended foundlings and Din just so happens to be the exception to that rule).

Our Souls Our Own by icarus_chained (gen, din djarin/boba fett/cobb vanth, complete)

On faith, armour, debts, friendship, and the crucible of slaves, heroes and kings that is Tatooine. In the aftermath of breaking his creed, Din takes a long walk into the desert, and Boba Fett and Cobb Vanth set out to bring him back.

time comes around series by TheTenthSunrise (gen, din djarin/luke skywalker, 16/17 parts)

on the trials of mandalore, and the complexities of family

Ni shakemi ner Mand'alor (I follow my Mand'alor) series by Angryplan3ttraveller (din djarin/paz vizsla, updating)

Paz Vizsla cannot stand that Din Djarin got to walk away with both the darksaber and his beskar. He is dar'manda: he should not get these things. So Paz is going to duel Djarin, and he is going to win the darksaber off of him. This time, he won't lose.

But first, Paz has to find him, and that task is not so easy. Especially not when Djarin has all sorts of friends all over the galaxy, and a chronic inability to stay in one place for longer than five minutes. Paz has his work cut out finding Djarin, but he'll do it. And he just might learn some things along the way.

Each morning sun a new adventure by Ellearem (gen, complete)

Din is no stranger to pain. He’s been shot, he’s been stabbed, he’s been beaten unconscious. He’s fallen from too high and broken too many bones and more than once nearly died for no good reason.

But this… Watching the Jedi take Grogu away...

It’s like his heart has been yanked through his beskar, all his internal organs carved up and carted off, only a hollow empty ache left in that warm place where the kid had lived.

And yet this is the Way...

--- This is a story of bounties and battles, of unexpected meetings with old friends, and of the making of new allies, as Din travels the Outer Rim Systems after giving up The Child. It's a story of (unintentional) self-discovery and (accidental) fame, Din stumbling sideways into realization and revelation, as he learns what it means- for him- to walk the Way of the Mandalore.

  Contains joyful reunions, action, feels, and found family, with a happy ending all around.

  Set immediately Post-Mandalorian Season 2 finale. Does not reflect Book of Boba Fett events.

foundlings are the future by hasawritinghabit (gen)

At that moment, when the Mandalorian removes his helmet and destroys the only way of life he has known, it is easy. This is the Way. Now he needs to learn what comes after.

The Deserter by AgentMalkere (din djarin/migs mayfield, complete)

Migs isn’t certain what he’s expecting when he follows Scary-Cop Lady, but the man in Mandalorian armor scares a good ten years off his life. Thankfully, it’s painted green with red and yellow accents – not unpainted, shiny silver. Migs has zero percent interest in ever running into Mando again. He doesn’t have a fucking death wish.

The green Mandalorian isn’t alone. There’s another woman who projects a frozen, deadly calm that Migs wants nothing to do with and… a guy. No, seriously, in this intimidating lineup there’s this super unassuming looking human with brown hair and brown eyes and a sort of soft looking face.

Migs isn't looking to get invested - he just wants to survive. He gets invested anyway.

(Din lost more than just Grogu and his ship on Tython.)

The Name by Derek_the_Dalek (gen, complete)

All the great Mand'alors have names, titles by which they're remembered.

Din has too many to count, and one that will echo through the stars for eternity

a simple thing by iridan (din djarin/boba fett, complete)

Boba Fett likes to be in control. Din Djarin feels more out of control with every passing day. Giving control over to Boba would make both of them happy. Din just doesn't understand why that has to be so complicated.

(Or, rebuilding an entire culture is hard. Boba helps, more or less.)

The People by musicmillennia (gen)

Din is used to being a faceless bounty hunter no one listens to. Being Mand'alor is...an adjustment.

Or, 5 Times Din Djarin was Surprised at his Position as Literal Ruler of a Planet...while accidentally winning the affection of said planet.

[3pirouette]

Sneak peek of an Untitled and Unfinished Mando x Reader slow burn fic

So, this is it. I have been teasing this now for a while, it’s still SOOO unfinished, unbeta’d and may change. And I’m even afraid of tagging it properly… but this is a touch draft of the Prologues and the first chapter.

Everything is under the read more. There’s no y/n, just 1st person. I’ve never written ANYTHING like this before and am super intimidated to toss my hat into the SW fandom, but here we are.

Important things:

-ANY and ALL feedback is welcome, just be kind please.

-PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNING. I’m not joking. It’s heavy stuff.

Author:Triple Pirouette/3Pirouette

Din Darin X Reader

A/N: Let’s start with this. I love The Mandalorian. I am a casual Star Wars fan as in I love the movies and some of the shows, but I haven’t touched the books or the extended mythos and there’s SO MUCH I just don’t know that I can never catch up on. I probably should not be writing this, but I am anyway. Assume if I don’t write about it, it doesn’t apply. Full on AU in that way.

I also see Din quite differently than it seems a lot of spicy fic writers do. Welcome to the slowest burn I’ve ever written. 

General timeline is after Book of Boba Fett, with the only major difference being Din still has the Razor Crest. Let’s be honest, the N1 is lovely, but it’s lacking space. Did I start writing this before season 3? Yes. Was I heavily influenced by season 3? Also yes. Is no one going to believe that I had the end planned out BEFORE I saw the season finale. Also yes. Oh well.

Also, I almost never write in second person. This is an exercise in that. I’ve done my best with this format as I just generally don’t write it that much. (Or ever) I’ve also thrown a few third person sections in there just for the sake of story telling. I get that “reader” should be pretty vague so that you can feel like you’re in the story, but my character isn’t. “Reader” is  cis AFAB. She’s strong but a little broken, and some pretty horrific things have happened to her. PLEASE take my warnings seriously. If you decide to proceed, you are doing so warned. 

Again, this is my first Star Wars fic. My first long second person fic. Please be kind. Heed the warnings. 

As we said waaaay back when i first started writing fic, I’m open to constructive criticism, but please take your flames someplace else. If you don’t like it, just close out of it. 

Warnings: SA, violence against women, prostitution, nightmares, suicidal thoughts, medical procedures, murder

~*~

Prologue II:  A Different Kind of Bounty

Din tosses his credits across the bar, sliding the drink into his hand. Even through his helmet he can smell too much alcohol in it. Not that he drinks often, but when he does, he likes his drinks to be well balanced and worth the loss of faculties and control. 

He generally doesn’t like not being ready or losing control. 

But he’s thankfully not paying for the drink tonight to drink it. He’s paying for his space. A club, a cantina like this on the farthest reaches of the Outer Rim isn’t about making merry. You pay credits for overpriced drinks for the bartender to look away and for the honor of having no one remember you. 

He knows he stands out in this room, but so do a lot of other patrons. 

He identifies senators, princes, high ranking Republic officials, all doing business of one kind or another that would get them blackballed from other places. Here, an overpriced drink pays for the companion next to them, or for the privacy to do business that is to be left off the books in a dark corner. 

He isn’t new to these sorts of places, but this one has an interesting feature. 

He’d been expecting to find the sweet face from the Holo in his belt behind the bar or trolling the floor. It isn’t his job to ask why you are in what amounted to not much more than a Hutt-run Brothel, it is just his job to find you and bring you back to Skywalker. 

He wants to stay on Skywalker’s good side in case he ever needs the Jedi again, and Grogu’s leaving seems to be a sore spot for the man. 

Din knows he is happier with the little guy back to making mischief in the ship, and he doesn’t question that too much. 

But that’s why he is here: do a favor for Skywalker. It is a rescue mission instead of a Bounty. Seems easy enough. 

Until he sees you for the first time. 

The Dias the Hutt keeps is high and far, looking down on the dark bar from the floor above. It is made so that the full room can see the Hutt on his throne, presiding over the evening lackadaisically, but also so there are private areas towards the back where deals can be made with the Hutt’s Domos. 

And there you are, dressed in bright swathes of thin fabric and gleaming steal accents that show more than they hide, iridescent lines adorning your face to make your eyes bigger and your nose smaller, your lips fuller and your chin sharper, kneeling at the Hutt’s side, miserable. 

He sees it, even though he knows you’re trying so hard to hide it. 

He sees how little you want to be where you are every time he catches you watching him. 

And there’s something about the way you walk that Din doesn’t like. 

It looks like it hurts. 

He watches the Hutt and his Domo parade you around, watches as you greet customers who come to bargain with the Hutt. Some leave with you, some leave without you, and when you leave you never come back out for the night, at least not that he’s seen in the last three days.  

Din can’t quite understand what is going on, but you aren’t a regular prostitute. That much is clear. 

The Hutt is keeping you up there for a reason instead of out on the floor with the rest of them. Din needs to know more before he can get to you, before he can figure out a way of getting you out of here without causing too much of a scene. 

And Skywalker is going to owe him a lot more credits for all the drinks he’s going to need to buy.

~*~

Prologue I: He Stands Out

He stands out. 

His armor is bright in the dim cantina, reflecting what light there is out all around him. This is a place people come to hide, a place they come to let their guard down. He did neither. 

Night after night, for a week, you watched him. 

He would sit quietly at the bar, holding a drink but never taking his helmet off or sneaking a straw under the edge. He may have talked to people, you didn’t know. The noise of the cantina made it hard to know without lip reading, and you couldn’t see his lips. 

You couldn’t see anything but that armor. 

From your place at the Hutt’s side, you watched. You waited. He’d make his way to the Dias eventually. They all did. 

Something made you think you might try just one more time. That if he came and asked for you, that maybe, just maybe, he might be the one to listen. He might not lie to you. 

He might actually help you. 

Night after night, for a week, you watched him come in, sit, not drink, and leave. 

He stood out. 

~*~

Chapter 1:

Chapter Summary:

A/N:

The Hutt pushed you over with his tail, mumbling and grumbling in words you never tried to learn, never cared to pick up. The Senator in front of you smirked dangerously, and that was all you needed to know. He was another, paying for your time. Buying your evening from the Hutt. 

You were eyeing him, trying to guess where he was from by his dress when the glint from across the room caught your eye. He was back. The mysterious Mandalorian returned. It was the eighth night in a row now, and he had yet to actually do anything. He didn’t play games of chance, or drink, or talk with anyone of importance. He simply came in, gave his credits over to the droid at the bar, and watched. 

Hell, he could have been sleeping under that helmet and you’d never know. 

The senator pulled your attention with a cruel laugh before reaching out, taking your wrist in his hand. 

“Shall we, lovely?” 

His smile was kind, but the glint in his eye was feral. 

A different man on the outside, but on the inside he was just the same as every one who came before him. 

You’d struggled once upon a time. You’d fought and dug your heels in over and over again, years ago. Now, you just went slowly, dipping your head. You’d learned there were fates worse than death, and until you could get your hands on a blaster or a vibroblade, you didn’t even have death as a recourse. 

It would have to be quick. Easy. You didn’t have the strength left to work at taking your own life. 

He pulled you behind him, towards the door where the ____ stood guard. As you turned, you could see the Mandalorian’s head turned towards you. 

Maybe he’d be interested.

Maybe tomorrow he’d talk to the Hutt. 

Maybe you’d ask him to take you with him when he left, and maybe he’d say yes. 

Maybe, if he wouldn’t help you, he’d stop paying attention long enough for you to get your hands on his blaster.

~*~

You needed the Bacta tank, but the Hutt wouldn’t allow it. 

He’d made that mistake once, and you knew he’d never make it again. Instead he let you suffer, wallowing on the floor of your cell, fighting to maintain concentration, fighting to heal what wouldn’t with the mod buried deep in your spine.  

You’re tired, you’re hungry, you’re angry. 

It wasn’t the first time you ended up here, it wouldn’t be the last. 

The Hutt knew where his money came from. He’d let them Do what they wanted, as long as they didn’t push too far. The Senator had pushed the limits, and now you were out of commission.  The Hutt wouldn’t like that. 

Not that you cared what he liked. 

The only reason you’d ever had to care about what made him happy was to get through another day, and you weren’t all that sure another day would be a good thing anymore. 

Behind closed eyelids, it was almost easy to pretend the dirt of the cell was the ground under the castle, that the cold air was just the breeze off the creek. These memories helped. Laying in the grass, waiting for your best friend to come bounding back, droid flitting by her side, ready for another adventure. 

This was not an adventure. 

~*~

The Domo wakes you by pulling at your wrist until you’re in a ball on your knees, breathing heavy from startling. “You need to get ready,” he snarls. 

“I’m not-“

“I didn’t ask.”

You know by now not to argue. They know when you’re ready, and they know when to ignore it for the right price. You stand, as dignified as you can, and follow him as he leads you from your cell. 

The tunnel leads front he dirt floors and rock walls of your cell to the compound proper filled with painted sandstone walls and cement floors. You follow quietly until he waves his hand over the sensor on one of the doors. It pops open, and you enter. 

There are clothes on the bed, and there;s a small bag of make up next to the basin filled with warm water. He sets himself at the door, watching invasively as you move to the basin. You strip the dirty jumpsuit off and use the towel to clean each inch of skin. You know what’s expected of you, and you know that disobeying only brings pain. 

You’re still in enough pain, and the only thing you know about who has bought you is that they either rate high enough, or have paid enough, for the Hutt break his own rules and pull you out before you’ve fully healed. You’re not willing to push back with so many unknowns. Soon enough the dirt is gone, and you braid back your hair into a tight plait, rolling it at the crown of your head. Next comes the make-up. It takes a little longer than usual, as you need to cover the bruise on your eye and the finger marks on your arm, but soon enough you’re painting around your eyes with the electric blue kohl that reminds you of a lightsaber’s shimmer and spreading bright pinks stain across your lips that stings and swells them just enough. 

Finally, you move over to the bed and slip into the blue scraps of fabric the Hutt calls clothes. Bright blue and shimmering gold wraps around your hips, just high enough to cover your low back by design, and low enough in the front to barely be descent. The bra is tight to the point it makes it a little hard to breathe, but nothing about this costume is functional. 

Just like the rest of it, it’s all for show. 

You slip back to the basin, grab the make-up bag and your discarded jumpsuit, and hand them to the Domo. 

You don’t even need to ask the question, he just looks you up and down, and tilts his head to the middle of the room. “On your knees. He won’t be long.”

He leaves, the lock On the door clicking into place behind him. 

It’s the not knowing that’s maddening. You move to the middle of the room and drop to your knees on the cold cement floor, head down. If you were not he Dias when someone approached, you can usually sense some of their intentions. Some of them you even know and know what to expect from them. 

You’re in the dark. 

The door clicks open, and you hear a set of heavy boots followed byt he soft slippers of the Domo. 

“She is all yours, sir,” he says brightly. “Is she to your liking?”

“She’ll do.” 

You look up, something you know you shouldn’t do, when you hear the hard, modulated sound. You drag your eyes right back to the ground, heart pounding. It’s him. 

It’s the Mandalorian. 

“And the accommodations?” The Domo is bright, and you’ve heard this little spiel more times than you can count. “We’re more than happy to get you another room or a different girl if-“

“You can go.” The Mandalorian’s voice leaves no room for arguement. All you can see are his boots: worn but heavy, and the complicated leather strappings that hold knives and bullets and maker-knows-what in place at his shins. 

“As you say, sir.” It’s so silent, you can hear the door click as the Domo leaves. 

You dare to do nothing but breathe, hands on your thighs, eyes down. 

This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To meet the Mandalorian? To have just a few minutes alone with him to either beg him to help you escape or to try to reach for the vibroblade in his boot? Somehow, confronted with him in one of these rooms, it feels wrong and twisted. 

He’s paid for you. 

He’s like all the rest. 

Why would he be here if he wasn’t?

It makes your stomach sink like a rock. 

“What’s your name?” He asks, voice flat and cold. You chance it and look up, eyes taking in every intimidating inch of his armor. Even though this was exactly how you’d imagined you’d meet him, it feels wrong on far too many levels. He’s not inching towards you, he’s not fisting his hands. 

He’s not excited, not itching to touch you or hit you, and even though the armor undoubtedly has many layers, you’re fairly sure he isn’t hard. 

You’d imagined an impassioned man that you could plead with, or a shy one that you could overcome with surprise, but every iteration of him at least wanted you. 

He didn’t want you, not like other patrons wanted you. He seemed indifferent. Blank. You weren’t sure how’d you get him to want you, to want to help you, if he didn’t care at all. You’d imagined he’d be infatuated. You imagined he’d be rough but still gentle. That he’d tie you up or pretend to catch you like a bounty and afterwards you’d offer him anything in exchange for your freedom from the Hutt. 

His cold stare gives you nothing to work with. 

You don’t answer, you can’t. You let your head hang, the skin pulling painfully at the top of the mod where it is still angry and red from your last customer. This wasn’t going like you wanted. “What do you want it to be?” You look up at him from under your lashes, trying your best to seem enticing. If he wouldn’t help, if you couldn’t seduce him into wanting to help you, you still had one more out. He needed to make an advance, or ask you to come to him. He needed to be closer if you were going to get your hands on his blaster or his blade. 

“You have a name, don’t you?”

He was infuriating. 

If the Hutt was watching, and he or one of his Domos was always watching somehow or another, he’d be angry. Mad. 

They always got mad when you didn’t do what they expected, and they expected you to make your patron feel welcome. The Mandalorian did not look welcome. It had been long, quiet minutes of you staring at one another. No touching, no propositions, just staring. 

It was hard to tell just how mad he’d be, you thought as you got up, because you hadn’t been there to see the negotiation. You didn’t know exactly how many credits the Mandalorian had parted with for your company. 

How much they paid always gave you a clue as to how cruel they’d be, how much the Hutt would watch and what he’d expect. 

You stood, slowly, eyes still only bouncing up to the helmet every few seconds. “You can call me whatever you like,” you whisper, stepping close to him  and setting your hands gently upon his shoulders to push him across the room. He moved back with you as you settled him on the edge of the ornate bed. 

His hands move up to your hips, gently pressing back, cautiously, not enough to really move you, though you can feel the power he is holding back. “I’m not here for that.” He moves like he is unsure, taken off guard. It doesn’t much matter to you. His blaster is close. Why the Hutt had allowed it in, you don’t know. But if he tries anything, well, it is close enough. 

“That’s what they all say.” You can’t keep the malice out of your voice, but you cover it quickly, dropping your eyes and looking up at him again from under your lashes. “Tell me what you want,” you whisper seductively, in a voice that you’ve learned men will crumple for. 

One way or another, you finally decide, you will going to be free of this place today. 

You aren’t going to suffer a day longer. 

He fights weakly again, pushing as if he doesn’t want to hurt you, his body tense. “Not this.”

His gentleness startles you just a little. You’re not used to men being soft with you, being considerate of you. 

You settle your thighs around his hips as you push him back further, hovering carefully as you lean to where his ear would be under the helmet, your hands settling on his shoulders as you kneel over him. You grow serious as his helmet cants to the side, questioning. “You paid for me, and the Hutt will be… mad… if I don’t please you.”

“That’s not what I’m here to do.”

“That makes you the first,” you mutter to yourself, pulling your hands from the beskar. It is warmer than you expect. “What are you here to do?”

He pulls back to look into your eyes. He says your name, and you freeze. 

Your heart drops. He’s a bounty hunter. A Mandalorian.  If he knows your name, your true name and not a code number or the disgusting moniker the Hutt uses to entice you to his clients, well… maybe today might be your day. 

One way or another, you are going to finally leave this place. 

You just didn’t think it would be in carbonite or a body bag. 

“That’s you, right?” He asks calmly, his voice changing little as it comes through the helmet. He pulls a holo out of his pocket and shines it between you. “Looks like you to me.”

You stumble from his lap, pulling back to the middle of the room. This is it. Today’s the day you finally die. It might be at his hands, or at the hands of the Hutt, and if it’s neither, well, you’re sure you still have enough energy to pull his blaster from the holster or the vibroblade he has stuffed in his boot. 

You’re not going back to the Imperial labs, though. You’ll die before you let yourself be brought back to one of those. 

The labs are the only place you can think of who would know who you are. They must have hired him to bring you back. 

For the first time in a long time, you feel vulnerable. Exposed. 

Your body had been little more than an annoyance for years. The clothes and heavy make-up the Hutt dressed you up in mere annoyances, but the chiffon and silk suddenly weren’t enough. The little bralette and the hanging strips of fabric that barely constituted a skirt weren’t like the uniform you’d once worn. 

For the first time, in a long time, you feel naked. 

And you can’t even tell if his gaze cares. 

You should be terrified. 

But you’re not. There’s fear, sure. It sits cold and knotted in your stomach. But there’s something else, too. 

You’d been courting death, hoping for it for so long now, and yet something in you screams to fight, to reach for life. 

You felt it when you’d touched him. The warmth on his beskar wasn’t just body heat, your mind finally registers, but a vestige of the force you’d once felt, calling out to you. 

There is something about him that is familiar and not frightening. He made you feel safe the moment you’d touched him, and now what you really feared was the thing you’d been hoping for for years. 

“Why are you here?” You whisper desperately, hope blooming in your chest. 

It was a hope for something you’d stopped even dreaming of years ago. 

“I think you know why I’m here,” his voice was almost, not quite, confused as it came through the modulator. 

The problem is, you don’t. You can’t really tell what you should be feeling. You’re afraid and excited, nervous and hopeful. Both are warring within you can his helmet is too blank to give you any kind of hint as to what he is really here for. 

Cold settles in your belly suddenly, a feeling you’ve felt far too often. The hairs raise on your arms, and you know you don't have much time. Your mind screams at you to hurry, but calmly as you can, you settle yourself on his lap again. His hands move to your hips, to try to push you off again, but you cover them with yours, holding them in place. “Just, play along, please.”

He stills his fight just in time for the door to open, his fingers curling up and over your wrists as his visor stays trained on your face. You could swear he’s searching for your heartbeat, that his fingers stop when they can feel your pulse pounding under your skin in time with the Hutt’s Domo’s steps. 

“She… does not please you, sir?” He starts out, voice full of pomp and ire. He’s one of your least favorite, and one of the most cruel. 

What you wouldn’t give to see the Mandalorian’s eyes. Only seconds ago you had a bloom of hope that you’d finally escapes this place, and now dozens of possibilities, all that you’ve lived through before, open up in your path. Without seeing his eyes, you couldn’t know. 

You still don't know what he’s here to do. 

Will he give you up? Or will he protect you?

He tips his helmet to the side, looking at the Twi’lek over your shoulder. “What made you think that?”

Your heart pounds further as you drop your eyes, looking down at his chestplate, struggling to keep your breathing even. 

The Twi’lek slides around the question. “We have others.”

“I want this one.”

You’re not sure if it’s fear or excitement that courses through you with his words, with the deep rumble in his chest that accompanies them. It could mean anything, but you focus on the feel of the beskar on your thighs, and remind yourself it’s warm. They’d stripped most of your abilities from you, but he was warm, and that meant something. He must feel you shiver in his arms, because he tightens his grip, ever so slightly, on your wrists. Just enough to remind you that he’s there, just enough to ground you. 

“Perhaps she is best taught her place then, sir?” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I can provide that service.”

Your breath stutters out of you at his words, your body tensing and trembling and you know the man below you felt your reaction when the Domo said ‘taught her place.’ You’d been brave once upon a time, taking each punishment he doled out with a stiff back and tearless eyes, but you’ve reached the end of your rope. There is no bravery left. You aren’t even sure if you’d be able to reach for the Mandalorian’s blaster if the Domo pulled you from his lap right now: every inch of you feels frozen and broken at the idea of falling to his hands once more. 

You wish you had the bravery and fire you were feeling just moments ago as you made a plan to grab the Mandalorian’s blaster, but the Domo’s stripped so much humanity from you already, there’s so little left to hold on to now. 

It seems your hope is well placed, and the Mandalorian is brave enough for both of you. “You’ll be leaving,” he says, short and clipped, as his hand leaves your wrist and moves back to your hip. Gentle. Calming. 

Possessive. 

His helmet moves back to look at you, but you can’t seem to look at his eyes. Or where you assume his eyes are. 

Shame? 

Is that what you feel welling in your gut, roiling and rolling and making you feel less than human now?

You’d never felt shame before. Not once. 

Not until now. 

Not until you couldn’t be brave enough to face another possible punishment at the Domos’s hands. 

He waits until the domo leaves, unmoving. “How did he know?” 

“Thermal cameras,” you whisper, “Sometimes they listen, too.” Your voice is small when it leaves your lips, filled with too many memories of things you don't ever want to remember. 

He stills under you. You don’t even feel him take a breath for long seconds. His hand slips from your wrist and gently lifts your chin. “How long have you been here?”

Looking into the darkness of his visor, feeling the reassuring warmth under you, that hope blooms again. Something about you is not what he expected, but you feel him, strong and sure and so very, very clear in his motives. You answer truthfully, with the only answer you have. “What year is it?”

That snaps something in him. Something dark and vengeful bubbling under the surface bursts and you feel him fight to pull it back. His hand moves from your hip, purposeful, to your cheek, framing your face with his other hand as he leans closer. 

Your heart pounds. Things are changing, things are moving, and yet this is the softest anyone’s been with you in so long it brings a tear to your eye. There’s no time for tears, not when he’s using his hands to shield his voice from carrying and anyone but him from seeing your lips, not when it’s so utilitarian. 

It has a purpose, even if it feels soft and intimate. 

“Do you need anything from here?” You shake your head: there’s nothing left for you here. “We’re leaving, understand?” You nod, your heart stopping for a second. Every wish you ever had is about to come true.  “What don’t I know that I need to know about this place?”

He’s so sure. He’s so confident. It breaks something in you and the tears fall. “He won’t let you leave with me. Not without killing one of us.”

His hands soften, just enough, to let you know he sees your fear. “That’s not going to happen today,” he replies gently, some of the edge taken from his voice. “What don’t I know? Like the thermals. I didn’t know about them. He didn’t have any in the cantina.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, centering with everything you have. “There are cameras in every hall. Guards at the end of every corridor. Each door is locked with a biometric code.”

“Know that,” he replies, “and I have a plan.” You could swear he was almost warm with you now. “What else?”

You go through every corridor you know, through every memory of this cruel place, and you come up with nothing… nothing until the one thing you try so hard to forget snaps your eyes open, fear running through your veins. 

How it wasn’t the first thing that you said, you’ll never know. 

You take one of his hands, gently pulling it down, guiding him under the high waistband at your low back. He starts to pull away until he feels it, his fingers ghosting over the metal of the mod over your spine.  

You remember the pain. 

The one time you made it far enough, the one other time hope surged through you too many years ago to count, and it was brought down with searing pain until you were writhing on the ground, begging the Hutt to make it stop as he and his guards laughed over you. 

“I won’t make it past the gate,” you whisper, curling in on yourself. 

His hand gently lifts your chin back up. “What did I tell you?”

You shake your head, not daring to believe it. You’ve only been in his presence for mere minutes, and you’ve whiplashed through so many emotions in that time. 

“We’re leaving. Now, lay on your left side.”

You shiver. You’re not sure if it’s fear or excitement, if you’re about to be betrayed or saved, but you can’t do anything but shift to his side and lay on the bed. You’ve begged so many patrons to help you get out, and they all played along until it was time to take you with them. Then they’d simply laugh as they left, leaving you in the hands of the Domo. Something about this one, though, makes you feel almost hopeful. He sits behind you, hand sliding over your hip. “I’m going to take a look at it, ok? I couldn’t see it from where I was.”

He’s good. The way he moves his arm would look like a caress on a thermal, but in reality he only sides the fabric just under the tech, peering closer. 

“What does it do?” 

“It’s components are entangled with my spine,” you whisper. “It pulls something from my blood,” you only half lie, not knowing how much he’s to be trusted yet, “and it can shock me. Sometimes it just hurts for a little while, other times I can’t walk for hours or days.” You take a deep breath. “The Domo’s said he can use it to kill me if I try anything.”

“How?” The leather gloves are soft on your skin. He’s being so gentle it seems unreal to you. 

“I don’t know. But, he has a control unit that he keeps on him.”

He leans down closer to your face. “The Hutt or the Domo?”

“Maybe both,” you search his helmet, the only thing you can see, for some sense of truth, some sense that he’s going to really help you. “I don’t know for sure.” 

He nods. “Alright then.” He leans back, looking over your body and down to your bare feet. “Can you run?”

“I can.” You roll on your side, looking up at him. “I can do anything you need me to to get out of here.” You sit up, reaching a hand out to his chest, heart hammering as you try to tell him everything he needs to know about you. “I will do anything to get out of here.”

You know you look silly, bright and bold make up marking you a pleasure worker, whisks of barely-there fabric only covering your breasts and hips, long panels of skirt that will trip up your legs, bare feet… but you think maybe, just maybe, he understands how desperate you are under all of it. 

“You’re going to follow me, ok?” He takes your hand, standing. “You do what I say, when I say it. Understand?”

You follow suit, standing. You nod, seriously. Your heart is pounding in your chest. 

It’s only when he pulls his gun from his holster that it really hits you. 

The Mandalorian is going to get you out of here. 

~*~

Your eyes open, and for a second you think you’re upside down. It’s black, or brown, rather, and something sharp is poking your ribs, and you can’t quite make sense of the way you’re jostling. 

Your eyes close, just for a second, and when they open again you can see the grounds outside the Hutt’s stronghold. You want to panic, but there’s not enough energy left. It hurts, gives you a headache, and you’re just going to close your eyes for a second. 

He’s carrying you. You’re slung over his shoulder. That much as manages to become clear in your mind as your eyes blink open again, fighting the desire to close, fighting your body’s need for rest. You can feel his pauldron digging into the skin of your abdomen. You must moan, because his modulated voice drifts over to you. You can’t make out what he says, but it doesn't matter. There’s grass under his feet. You can’t remember the last time you saw grass. The Hutt didn’t have grass in his compound. 

There wasn’t grass anywhere in the gates. 

You thought you saw grass once, from a window on the top floor while a customer made a game of holding you out the window, threatening to drop you. But the grass was really far away. Too far away to be sure that it even was grass. 

There’s grass under the Mandalorian’s feet, though. 

He did it. 

You’re out. 

You close your eyes. Just for a second. 

~*~

He leaves you unconscious on the floor, moving quickly up the ladder and to the controls, flipping switches and turning dials in a pattern that’s ingrained so deeply in him that he never has to think about it anymore. 

He can think about other things as he sets the ship into the air, like how you’d wandered around the Hutt’s Dias like a beautiful ghost for days as he watched, not knowing what was truly happening to you. Like how you looked up at him through seductive lashes from your knees. Like how you felt in his lap, trying to tease his wants from him. 

Like how he felt sick when he realized you were something more than just a prisoner, more than just a prostitute, even if he still can’t exactly tease out what you were to the Hutt yet... 

Like how you tried to hide behind him when the Twi’lek Domo met you at the door with a set of guards. Like how you grabbed the vibroblade in his boot and spun on the guard with skill that surprised everyone. Like how he watched you fall to your knees as that Twi’lek pushed that button in his hands, eyes wide with fear and panic as pain spasamed through your body, then how the Twi’lek let his hand fly, catching you in the back of the skull with his fist, sending you face first to the floor.

Like how you felt, limp in his arms when he stopped you from hitting the concrete face first with one arm, blaster smoking from his shot at the Twi’lek in his other hand. 

How the Domo and his guards looked on the floor as he stepped over their dead bodies, carrying you from that place after he’d picked through he Domo’s pockets, taking anything and everything that might be related to the mod on your back. 

These things replay in his mind, over and over again. 

He only ever took bounties before this. He’d never taken a true, paid, rescue mission before. 

It left him feeling disturbed, but he couldn’t put his finger quite on why. 

Once in the sky, once he was back among the stars, he felt like he could start to breathe again. He slumped back against his chair, pulling the small data chip from his belt and running his hands over it. 

He’d thought you were working there. He couldn’t understand why Skywalker wanted a prostitute, but nothing he’d observed in that week of recon while he sat in the cantina told him anything different. He’d watched you flit across the Dias, sad and disconnected, passed from patron to patron, just like the rest of them. Aside from the Hutt keeping you close to his side, you looked like any other offering in that dark, disgusting place. 

There was something different about you, though. The other prostitutes didn’t have mods. The others didn’t need to be shocked to be kept in line. The others were sad, but not desperate. 

The others moved of their own free will. You had been brought in and out in chains and binders. 

The others weren’t prisoners. 

His job wasn’t to ask questions, though, it was to get you to Skywalker. It took him too long to figure out how to get you out, how to get close to you, when he needed to keep you safe as a rescue instead of storing you in carbonite like a bounty. There was a reason he was a bounty hunter. It was much easier to get in, get your target, and get gone when they were guilty of something and when it didn’t exactly matter if they were warm or cold when he hauled them back to Karga. 

The dread, the disgust at finding out you were a prisoner, a slave that fell to cruel hands to the point where you feared them with trembling breath, made him sick. His stomach still roiled at the idea of you needing to please him to avoid some kind of punishment. He’d spent his life bringing the scum of the galaxy into the guild. It wasn’t hard to imagine some of the things that happened in that compound once he really started to think about what kind of place the Hutt was probably running. 

He flipped the chip though his fingers again, then slipped it into the console. He didn’t find much on the Domo, just the small data pad that controlled the mod and this data chip. With a few clicks, the lists opened before his eyes. Most names he didn’t know, but some he recognized. It took him longer than he was proud of to figure out what it was. 

He copied the information to the onboard computer before he pulled the chip out and slipped it in his belt. He’d need it one day. He was sure of it. 

Din wanted to turn around, to use the guns on the Crest to obliterate the Hutt and his patrons, but he held back. There were too many unknowns, and if the Hutt’s list of patrons he had tucked away in his belt was any indication, there might be repercussions from beings in positions of power throughout the galaxy. 

It made him sick. 

But there wasn’t time for that. 

No. 

He needed to get into Hyperspace, get to Navarro, and get that thing out of you. 

He wasn’t sure if Skywalker knew about the mod, or if he expected you to be presented to him with it in, but Mando wasn’t letting you go another day longer than necessary with that in your body. 

Not when he could see the way you convulsed when the shocks ran through your body every time he closed his eyes. 

He didn’t think Skywalker was that kind of man, but if he had anything to say about you showing up without it…

Well, he could try to say something. But it wouldn’t matter. 

It was coming out as soon as he could find a way how. 

Hyperspace first, then pulling out the camping roll he was pretty sure he still had in storage for you to sleep on.

Hyperspace first. 

He couldn’t wait to put some parsecs between his ship and that Hutt. 

[captainkappa]

mostly vent, partially Mando e3 ep 1 spoilers

i hoped that watching the ep would help get over the rut ive been in ever since feb last year, but nope, i barely felt fucking anything for that first ep. i feel like i can argue its the weakest of all mando eps. most mando eps i feel like are very singularly driven and this had 5 different things introduced. i guess it could work out in the end but compared to other season openers, it was weak. i did like grogu spinning around the chair, grogu adn the space whales, and especially din showing grogu how to pilot the ship. but all the plot stuff? i could take or leave

Like... BOBF ep 5 was a way better opener for this season (there's been a year of 'that was mando s3 ep 1' jokes but they were all completely founded!) I think i was just hoping that there was a reason to BoBF jumping the gun on mando's storyline like that. like, i wanted to be able to tell that the story was gonna be really good so they needed to bring grogu back right away, but im not really getting that impression????

and i have no idea if i feel like this because of the episode itself or im still in this dumb fucking star wars rut from the shit show that was BoBF (which, if you cant tell, my opinion of has gone down the farther we get from it).

i just wanted to be able to watch mando s3 in real time with the gay people in my phone! but at this rate, im gonna have to wait till after mando s3 to be in the right fucking mood

[idkbishsss]

my review of the mandalorian so far (I’ve seen 5 episodes, and got spoilers for ep6 why drafting and this up)

It okay.

I definitely think so lines here and there need work. I’ve definitely liked all the cameos/references, but that’s because I’m just a fuckin’ nerd-

it’s my least favorite season so far, but I don’t think it awful

Don’t take my word for it, because I could watch anything SW related and like it. The power of hyperfixations baby!

I also don’t have the same opinions with most people. My marvel opinions would probably offend a lot of people. I also don’t set high expectations for anything in case they don’t met it.

Going to be honest, they did just throw away a few plot points though. Like the fuck happened to the people in ep3? They lost the plot point.

First two episodes are the best so far. I think episode 3 is the worst. It’s not because I don’t like the episode, but because they did nothing with that plot so far.

Episode 5 also isn’t my favorite, I definitely think they could have done a better job at establishing the pirates a little better. Yet I do still like the action and I think the ending with Bo is good. I think she deserves it, I don’t think Din would want that. As much as people are mad at the fact that she can take hers off and Din can’t.

I just think he would rather not have to bring all the mandos together. I actually wouldn’t mind if next season it’s just him chilling with Grogu as his friends come for aid.

I wish that it was more about Mandos and not the new republic. Yet I think it’s setting up some conflict for the end of the season. I also think that that this could have been the last season and then the just do a Bo-Katan show to show the rest.

But the show is called “The mandalorian”. I think that it’s trying to be about mandalorians as a whole, not just din. (I still think they should add more din)

I LOVE ZEB

I definitely have some theory’s on what’s going to happen.

I definitely love The Armorer and Bo stuff:}} (even if it’s not canon)

And there’s a lot i love, but hate get more traction on the internet.

Now I’m going into what I hate

WHY ARE THEY DOING ALL THIS SHIT FOR US TO LIKE BO KATAN?!?!?

the only people who don’t like her are people who haven’t watched Rebels and the finale season of tcw series. I feel like they setting her character back. Just trying to undoing character development.

I talk about this perversely, BUT WHAT WAS EPISODE 3!?!? I liked that episode when it came out, but all that O U T T H E W I N D O W. They aren’t doing anything with the plot point. Also it’s just a set up for the fall of the new republic! Which would be good, if I didn’t want the sequels UNTOUCHED. Leave them alone, you made mistakes. Run and bury those why you still can!

If it was another show? Yes it work! It’s was working when the had Moff. It was still with the plot, yet didn’t feel forced.

Din feels like he just exists. Add some conflict, make him pissed that he can’t walk both ways or something. Even if I hate that, it’s still something. It can also be explained well. He feels like his entire life he’s respected the way, but he doesn’t like that the rules are different. He had so everything for the way, he was kick out for “disrespecting” it. Make him want to walk both ways at the end of the story because of this!

also i just know they are going to do Paz is the one all pissed. Please add Din to the story again, I beg you.

And, make one episode, centered around Mandos. Without anything else. I don’t care if it’s past. I don’t care if it’s wholesome or not. I don’t care if din doesn’t even show up. Just do an episode for Mandos (I know ep4 exists okay, but I need more then that-)

Also don’t give Bo-Katan the dark saber PLEASE

Like that she went against an empire, and that’s not really easy to beat. I don’t blame her, i think any Mando could fall to that.

But I just think that it should be someone else. Maybe not Din, but definitely not Bo-

-gets spoilers for Ep6-

…IM GOING TO RUN OFF A CLIFF-

What? Why? HOW?

First! JACK FUCKING BLACK ACCORDING TO MOST

SECOND, what did I say? Make it about mandos not the fucking CLONE WARS?!?!

Look I love Bo, BUT GOD NO. NO

well at least according to a few we got dumb ass lovable Din back:) (I’m also sure there’s good things about the episode)

I lied. I hate this show (I’m sure with in a few days I love it again-)

Edit: I saw someone say ep6 just should have been an entire season it’s self. I have a feeling it not bad, just overwhelming.

[trashquisitor-shirozora]

4AM thoughts while I decide if I should sleep on this chapter and then post, or post the chapter and then sleep (better sleep on it first and then do a final read before post):

was a reason ever given for the NR's bizarre attempt at Operation Paperclip? becuase I was watching this short podcast ep talking about sarin nerve gas and the host brought up the Cold War being the rationale for Operation Paperclip, and I didn't see any episode reactions speculating on whether or not there was a threat that necessitated rehabbing ex-Imps. I saw reactions talking about how the NR rehabbed Imps while also destroying their tech? huh? so the NR was doing Operation Paperclip out of the goodness of their hearts? I mean, I guess??? personally, I would've thrown them all into a floating prison because fuck 'em but I'm not the one who destroyed the NR in the Sequel Trilogy in a shitty attempt to recreate the conditions that set up ANH, what the fuck do I know?

HEAR ME OUT. my brain connected some dots. it's just me and my personal experiences with the Captain America movies, which were what really got me going in the MCU for a while but listen

I keep thinking about the speculations about what will happen in Season 3 and all the fics and arts and headcanons people spun for 2 years, and what is actually happening on Season 3, and it feels so much like what people were writing and drawing and headcanoning post-CATWS and what actually fucking happened (AoU, CACW, the Infinity Saga). I'm not just talking about the shipping, btw. I am very much talking about Din's journey throughout the first 2 seasons and the gravity of the end of Season 2..... and how it turned into a fucking joke. It was such a fucking letdown. I feel like a fucking clown for thinking Favloni (and Favreau especially) would actually do something meaningful with it.

I refuse to watch CACW out of principle and the Infinity Saga also out of principle. Wiki the summaries? Haven't done that. Everything I know I got from gifs and posts. I know straight up fuck all about the plots of these movies, but I know enough about how Steve Rogers' story ends and boy was that a disappointment. I get why his story ended, but how it ended sounds like a fucking spice dream. Of all the things, that's the ending they chose? lol k

to all the people claiming that 3rd episode was Mando's "Andor episode", no it fucking wasn't. it sounds like a fart of an attempt at a political/world-building episode with none of Andor's dedication to understanding what the fuck they're doing. maybe they had no choice but to set up the NR as corrupt, useless, incompetent, unable to outlast the Empire! maybe it's meant to mimic the more recent post-WWII/Cold War histories (I won't speculate here because I'm not well-versed in this department), but this coming on the heels of Andor... what the hell kind of sunrise was the Rebellion fightting for? are we really saying the Rebellion was fighting for a filler republic that Disney will burn away to make a better, cooler government run by..... who the fuck knows? nobody wants to do the hard job of building and rebuilding after a war. might as well just wait another 40 years for another Empire wannabe to blow up an entire star system and reboot the conflict for the next generation I guess????

no this season isn't going the way I expected because i wanted more out of Din. but honestly, it was the attempt to bring back IG-11 that turned me off the whole thing. fucking disgusting. let things die, favloni. they deserve to rest.