#this is why i love star wars so much by the way

[whoredyceps]

"OH LOVER BOY!" || 28 Days of Love: A Valentine's Challenge + Series

day eight: fuzzy pink handcuffs

ᰔ pairing: din djarin x reader

ᰔ summary: the mandalorian is on another bounty mission. he expects to find who he's looking for, not himself cuffed in your bed.

ᰔ author's note: i read a post by @psyzook that talked about how din is more awkward and touch-starved, and i knew when i made this list, i had to put him in the fuzzy pink handcuffs. it's like a rite of passage. also i am not a big star wars girl so please forgive any misuse of information. i did so much research, but i'll always be a trekkie at the end of the day ✋😔 i tried my hardest— anything for my baby din

ᰔ content warning: 18+ // MDNI!!!! sub!din, dom!reader, oral (m!receiving) afab!reader (mention of breasts), din is is silent and awkward, premature ejaculation, fuzzy pink handcuffs

Din felt as if he had met his match when it came to you. He had seen it all, every corner of the never-ending universe threw a fastball at him. He had seen the depraved and the greedy in every form. It was hard to look towards the light when he had been face to face with darkness time and time again.

When he agreed to take a bounty job on Zeltros, he knew it would be a struggle from the start. Many who had tried to follow through with war or overtaking had failed due to the nature of the planet. Din had heard of the failing of other bounty hunters, but he was sure he was stronger than whatever temptation the others had faced.

The mission was easy enough. Find one of the wealthiest residents and return them to the Imperial Center. Din knew to not dig his helmet into business that wasn't his, but he wondered what was so important that the bounty was well beyond the standard price. Whoever's head it was must have been important if he had to bring them in alive.

Easier said than done, but the Mandalorian didn't back down. He had faced a few zeltrons in his time, and this one was no different.

You, though?

You were beyond anything he had seen in his time, in any interaction he'd had. Din was unsure if it had been the way you held yourself, or how easily you had tempted him with your sweet words.

"I believe I've heard of the head this bounty is plastered on. Please, follow me." You turned, not waiting for him to accept the invitation. Even the way your sheer red robes flourished as you ascended the front steps had Din bewitched. He followed without a word, his head ducked down as if to hide how his chest tightened.

"You could tell me the information out here," Din returned. Despite his argument, it didn't stop the way he followed you. He hoped to find the information he needed and continue on with the hunt for his bounty. He was on a mission.

"And have others listen where they're not welcome? I prefer to speak in private. As a follower of Mandalore, I'm sure you understand the importance of privacy." You glanced over your shoulder with a smirk.

"I suppose." Din left it at that. He kept a bit of distance between you. As he took in the decor, he was surprised by the lively coloring and flourish that had donned each piece of furniture.

"You mentioned this bounty had to be brought in alive. May I ask if they've provided a reason why?" You led him into the open space that was the center of your home. It was covered in warm oranges and pinks, sleek and polished in preparation for any visitor. On the walls and in display cases were various art pieces you had collected over time.

Din took notice of each item. He recognized some of the art styles, all front different sectors of space he had been in. How you had acquired some pieces, he wasn't sure. As he took in the details of your space, he realized how little he knew about you. The tip to talk to you had been an anonymous message, but it was as good a place to start as any.

"I tend to not ask unless it's imperative to the bounty." He kept a hand on the blaster on his hip. It wasn't subtle, but Din only relied on the art of subtlety when there was something at stake.

"You amuse me, Mandalorian. I hope I can be of service," you mused. You waited for a response, but there was a silence that filled the air. Din cleared his throat, and you turned to see what he was looking at.

"Ever seen anything like it?" You smirked as you moved towards the case. In the tall glass case was your most novelty possessions, some from your home planet and some from stretches beyond your sector. Even with the mask on, you felt his gaze follow your every move as you opened the glass.

At the center of a black velvet pillow was a set of cuffs. Din had seen plenty of bindings for every set of appendages on the body. From high tech to basic, they had all been similar in shape and fashion. These were unlike any he had seen; never before had he seen something so frivolous.

"No," Din finally quipped. "They look useless."

It was true. If he had tried to use pink, fuzzy handcuffs on a bounty of his, they'd laugh right in his face before they made a break for it. Not that he blamed them, considering they looked flimsy from where he stood.

"I suppose in your line of work, they would be," you chuckled. "However, I must attest to their usefulness in other situations." You held the handcuffs, brushing a thumb over the exquisite fur that donned it. It had been sourced from a loth-wolf pelt and dipped in fruit dye— that, you had done yourself. The muddled white and grey did no justice for your tastes. Now, it was a vibrant pink thanks to the meiloorun fruit you had wrung dry.

"How? I fail to see how you could detain someone with these." You let the Mandalorian take the cuffs out of your hand so he was able to examine them. It was amusing to see him shift them in his hands, his gloved thumb brushing over the fur.

You were quiet for a beat before you moved closer to the bounty hunter. As you did, you shifted your shoulder to let the edge of your robe slip. Even with the chill in the air, you didn't mind how it left your skin exposed.

"It's not so much what you detain them with, but how you detain them. You should know that well enough, Mandalorian. I'm sure you've captured your fair share of brutes with far less than those."

Din was quiet for one beat, followed by another. He marveled at the handcuffs, then your shoulder. While he had been propositioned by plenty of people, both bounties and bystanders, this felt different. His body felt tense as it dawned on him, what you were implying.

"I have," he broke the silence. "It's about the situation— how you keep them compliant." His gaze flicked towards your face. He hadn't missed the smirk on your lips, not that you tried to hide it.

"Exactly. These require submission." You grabbed for the cuffs again, yet you didn't put them back in the case.

"Submission?" Din asked. You nodded and reached for his hand, which he let you take. It surprised both of you, but neither acknowledged it. Instead, you popped one side of the cuff open and placed it wound his wrist. It settled in the leather divot left where the two metal pieces of his armor divided.

You gently tugged Din's hand, and it moved without much resistance. He was thankful for the mask; it hid the way his eyes had widened. He had never been willingly cuffed, let alone moved without force.

"I'd like to show you just how useful they can be." You waited until his helmet shifted, a slight nod that you made out. Without another word, you led him down the hallway by way of the other cuff in your hand.

Din felt stiff and awkward with each clunky step towards your bedroom. He wasn't sure what to say, how to break whatever simmering tension had built between you two. Out of all the propositions he had faced, why did he falter at yours?

Just like the rest of your home, your room was vibrant with hues of oranges and pinks cast across the furniture. Din noticed the large window that allowed him to take in the vast horizon of Zeltros, an overview of the bustling city below.

As Din took in the sight, you gave another gentle tug towards your bed. He hesitated, his movements stiff as he shifted in his spot. You started to speak but before you managed to get anything out, he sat on the bed. His back was flush against the headboard, which had been made of repurposed copper pipes.

"When using these," you began as you sat in front of him. "You must relinquish some control. Unable to use your hands, it requires the ability trust in your partner." Your robe slipped further down to expose your bare chest as you looped one of Din's arms through the pipe. As you clasped the other cuff around his other hand, you felt him sink further into the bed. You glanced down to see your breasts spilled out of your robe, right above the bounty hunter's helmet.

Din had never been more thankful for the safety of his face covering. He was completely flush; it would have been impossible to hide the way he stared at your breasts. He cleared his throat before he spoke up.

"Why should I trust you?" Din was even more thankful for the modulator, which warped the tense tone in his voice.

"You have no reason," you shook your head. "Just as I have no reason to trust that you won't break one of my prized possessions." You settled between his legs, both your hands on his sturdy thighs. Even through the fabric of his pants, you saw what effect the pink handcuffs had on him.

"You use these often?" Din asked, as if deflecting distracted him from the ache in his cock. It had been ages since he felt any sort of release, and even longer since it had been at the hands of someone else.

"No. Only for special occasions." You moved for his belt and fiddled with the latch. It dropped off his waist, pooled underneath as it fell on the bed. He watched your hands under the armor chest plate to undo the button on his pants.

"What makes this so special?" Din asked. He felt his chest tighten, his breath short as you released his cock from the confines of the linen pants.

"It's not every day that a Mandalorian comes to my home, looking for my help." You didn't give the answer much thought, your own form of deflection. Instead of focusing on the conversation, you brushed your thumb over the head of his leaking cock as your hand ghosted over his shaft. You smirked as he shifted at the gentle touch.

"How long has it been? Since you've felt the touch of another." As you spoke, you leaned down to press a light kiss on his slit. Even the voice modulator couldn't hide the choked back sound he made.

The Mandalorian was silent, as you expected. His hips shifted as you swiped your tongue along the underside of the tip. The way he twitched in your hand only made you swipe your tongue again.

"Not one for casual conversation?" You mused in a teasing tone. "I suppose that comes with your occupation, bounty hunter." When your lips weren't on his cock, your hand was wrapped around his shaft as you slowly jerked him off.

Din was overwhelmed by the slow, tantalizing pace at which your hand moved. He resisted bucking up into your hand, to chase the high you gave him, but it felt near impossible. He had denied himself so much over his life, and this moment of weakness ate at him. He had to remain strong—

Your head dipped down again, the warmth of your mouth too much for him to handle. Before he managed to speak, hot, thick ropes hit your tongue and the back of your throat. Your hand continued up and down his shaft as you coaxed him through his orgasm.

"Sorry," Din's voice was gruff, even with it being altered. He felt a different type of heat crawl up his neck and all over his face.

"No need to apologize," you assured him once your lips popped off his cock, not without a string of white saliva popping as you pulled away. "The throws of pleasure can do things to us that we cannot predict." Before you sat up straight, you wiped at your lower lip and licked your finger clean.

"It's... it's been some time. Since I've found myself in someone's bed," Din admitted. Even after the pleasure that had shuttered through him, his body craved more— anything you were willing to give him.

"Well, if you ever crave a warm bed to find yourself in," you leaned in and braced yourself on his sturdy shoulders. "You find me. Maybe I'll wear the handcuffs next time, if you think you've learned your lesson."

You pressed a kiss to the top of the bounty hunter's helmet before you tucked him back into his pants. While you wanted to keep him there for hours and keep him pliable, you knew he had other business to tend to.

You just wondered how long it would take him to realize that his bounty had been right under his nose this entire time. Amazing what a set of fuzzy pink handcuffs could do.

[shovellyyy]

Geto defecting was not an act of love for Gojo.

I saw this take on TikTok where they said “Geto defected because he wanted to create a better world for Gojo”, and I thought that I’d explain why that’s not the case.

If it were simply put, Geto suffered trauma at the hands of a broken system, thus took dramatic efforts to change the system. This was not in anybody’s benefit but his and his family’s.

Geto was titled as the Worst Curse User in all of history because he had brutally murdered hundreds, if not thousands, of people in his decade post-defection. This is the same Geto who told Gojo that he could do not only this, but cause destruction to the entire world at large if he truly wanted to.

It’s not that Geto didn’t love Gojo, because I do truly believe they’re soulmates (tho I don’t argue that as canon), it’s that Gojo wasn’t willing to give up his morals for “retribution”.

Geto wanted to rid the world of “monkeys” which are regular humans that are the reason cursed even exist. If there’s no curses in the world, there is no motivation for Gojo to be anything. Gojo has always believed himself to be a tool for war (I have another post on this), he has always believed that he’d one day die a lonely death. He’s never seen it within reach for him to live a normal life with a picket fence and a family. From the moment Gojo was born and separated from his parents for training, this sentiment was likely echoed to him.

What Geto was trying to do would not benefit Gojo in any way. Ridding the world of non-sorcerers and curses would ultimately leave Gojo average: powerless. Gojo thought of himself as nothing than his power, as someone who could uplift and encourage young sorcerers so they could be the ones to live a happy life instead of him.

Geto’s selfish feelings clouded his judgement, thus he never really thought of it from Gojo’s perspective. Geto had the wrong idea.

This isn’t a dig on Geto post either, but just stating my interpretation of JJK through how I’ve analyzed Gojo’s character and his relationships with others. I believe it’s wrong to think that Geto was doing all of this for Gojo.

He loved him, shown by how he wished Gojo would at least curse him in the end. Because no matter how much he messed up, no matter how horrible and murderous he became, Gojo still loved him. Gojo still gave him grace, and held onto him.

They’re doomed gay dudes. Star crossed lovers, doomed from the start.

I want to reiterate that I’m not just dissing on Geto. I believe it’s wrong though to believe he was fueled by his love for Gojo.

Anywayssss let me know your thoughts if you have any!! 🫶🏻

[margindoodles2407]

YES! THIS! THANK! YOU!

So one thing that has always struck me about Star Wars, and makes it feel more unique and real, is how it does religion.

In many, many fantasy works, if religion comes up at all, it won’t really mean much of anything. Religion is basically a throwaway line. It’s basically like “oh by the way, there’s a polytheistic religion and the gods are probably definitely real, now back to completely ignoring this”. That’s if it gets mentioned at all. Having once been religious myself, this does not feel like the characters are actually religious. The religion in these works doesn’t have meaning.

Star Wars does not do that. The heroes are religious. Instead of it basically just being a throwaway line, it affects a lot. It affects their behavior and their beliefs. The Jedi live in a Temple. They see all life as sacred, so they usually try to avoid killing. They also spend time trying to save as many lives as possible (see all the times Jedi saved clones’ lives as an example). Their religion values teaching, so they often are teaching to show that they care. Their religion matters.

The religion matters for those who have been in the religion for as long as they can remember (such as Obi-Wan) and it matters for converts (such as Anakin and Luke).

Anakin converts into the Jedi religion when he is a child. He goes a lot of the normal Jedi stuff such as growing up as a Padawan, being assigned missions by the Council, and having the entire Jedi community there for him. His whole dilemma is that he wants be a Jedi and married to Padme, even though Jedi aren’t supposed to be married. If being a Jedi wasn’t meaningful to him, he’d probably have just chosen Padme without there being a fuss.

Luke converts when he’s an adult (by our standards). He doesn’t have the same normal Jedi stuff Anakin did. The Jedi community has been wiped out, he doesn’t spend/get much time with his masters, and there isn’t a Council to assign him mission. He gets assigned on missions by the Rebellion (and one time himself). But being a Jedi is meaningful to him to. He told Palps to his face “I am a Jedi” in what was an amazing moment (until the lightning).

This all makes the Jedi feel like they are actually religious. Basically, I like that Star Wars understands that religion has meaning and an impact.

[licorishh]

double ?? upload ???? yeaaaahh i've gotten FASTERRrr for whatever that's worth so complementary blyla because guess what i miss them too (nobody was surprised by that)

[comatomato]

Tooka eyes 🥹

My “creative interpretation” of that super long pause before she said “This is the way.” when she glanced down at Grogu. He really has the tooka eyes weaponized.

Check out more of my art over on Instagram! ✨

[aleatoryw]

I keep seeing people in the ventress tag saying they read dark disciple and it was soooo good.... what part was good, exactly? the part where quinlan says he's going to make a stupid reckless decision and tells ventress to wait in the car and she's like "okay💗 yay💗"? the part where dooku kills her without saying a word to her because he was trying to kill quinlan, whose relationship with him was developed entirely off-page? the part where she's buried in the sexy revealing dress she hated because quinlan liked her best feminine? the part where quinlan gets treated like an idiot the whole book because "snarky grumpy woman and her himbo sunshine boyfriend" was the only trope they could apparently make work here? the part where the Jedi get a bunch of people killed and at the end are like "ah well, we've all learned a valuable lesson about the dark side!"?

[n0bluev]

@fushiglow hmm….wonder who i’d draw this for all of a sudden and why… 🤔🤔

[cluescorner]

Long Post about Savage Opress because I am Normal

Savage Opress, you are everything.

You are at your strongest when you are fighting to protect the people you love. You had to participate in a battle royale and subjected yourself to a fate worse than death in order to protect your brother. You were forced to kill the brother you fought so hard to protect, your last words to him as he begged for his life were 'You make (me) weak'.

You are Frankenstein's monster, a kinslayer. You just have to live with that. Your mistress isn't giving you a choice in the matter.

You were placed under the control of a cruel master/mistress twice in the span of like a week. You were forced to betray your master and (under your mistress's orders) you killed two jedi, making you an enemy of the two most powerful entities in the galaxy. You made these enemies against your own will. You were lightning spammed and abused to the point that you were able to break free of your mistress's control.

You are then attacked by these two random jedi you have never met. They seem intent on bringing you in. They stand besides each other and fight to protect each other. You are reminded of how you did the same for your own brother. You killed that brother.

You run to the only home you've ever known, the same home that treated you as lesser-than and transformed you into what you are now. Your home is destroyed, all of your sisters are dead. You are upset by this. They were the cause of your suffering, but they were still kin.

You are told that you have a remaining brother, one who can make you strong enough to protect yourself. You decide to travel across the galaxy to find him. You killed your last brother, you will do anything for this one.

You seem to create trouble everywhere you are now. You are now incapable of solving problems without violence, so violence is what you become. You become hatred. You had love once, but everything that you loved is dead. Except for your remaining brother. You do whatever you must to find him.

You find your brother. Your brother is delirious and half-dead, but he is your brother and you found him. You can fix this. Your brother sees you too, or at least he sometimes does. You are a reflection of him, of what he was meant to be. You are strong and powerful. Your brother is not anymore, but he will be soon.

Your mother, the same woman who took you and warped you into a monster (that is what everybody calls you now), fixes your brother. Your brother grabs your face and twists it, painfully examining your every pore. You don't begrudge him this. You have done the same to it. Your face isn't yours, but it is the only face you have.

Your brother screams for vengeance against Kenobi, he must have revenge. You must stand by your brother, he is all that is left. You embark on a quest of vengeance against a man you only briefly met.

You become everything your brother needs you to be. You are his protector, his sword, his second-in-command. You have love again and you will do anything to keep it this time.

Your brother is a terrible person. Your brother will massacre a village for the sake of getting Kenobi's attention. Your living brother is nothing like the one you killed. You aren't sure this is a good thing.

Your brother lures Kenobi to the village and you both capture him. Your mistress shows up and immediately sets about belittling you. You are the monster she and your mother created. You are not her thrall anymore, you can fight her now. You do exactly that.

Your mistress and Kenobi retreat, your brother chooses to bide his time. You will wait with him.

Your brother and you infiltrate a ship, finding a fortune of credits. You are happy with this, you have never seen this much money in your life. Your brother's only fortune is the downfall of Kenobi.

Your brother calls you apprentice, decides that is what your relationship is now. You don't see the need for dominance, you are brothers after all. Your brother disagrees and you will subject yourself to this for your brother's sake. You are a reflection of him, of all his past flaws. You are devoted to those you love and able to feel things other than vindictive glee or hatred. Your brother is not anymore, he might never be again.

You think your brother is incapable of love. You love him all the same.

You and your brother next run into Kenobi with another Jedi Master. You do not know her name nor anything about her. You kill her, goring her with your (far larger than they should be) horns and running her through with your lightsaber. Your master is not forcing your hand this time, you can finally choose to make an enemy of the Jedi. You would have been their enemy either way, but the false choice is comforting regardless.

You and your brother corner Kenobi. You think for a moment that you have gotten the upper-hand, then Kenobi cuts your arm off. Your body leaks green magic. Your mother's magic still holds power over you even after everything. You wish it didn't.

Your brother shoves Kenobi away from you and decides to retreat. You aren't sure if this is a sign of affection towards you or if this is a strategic move. Your brother speaks as if it's the latter. You see no reason to believe otherwise.

You manage to escape, but are left adrift in space. You are freezing and slowly running out of oxygen. Your home was warm and full of breatheable air. You are alone with only a brother who calls you 'apprentice' for company. Your home was filled with brothers who called you by your name or by 'brother'. You are alive. Your home and brothers are dead.

You next wake up in an unfamiliar place. You smash all the equipment around you. You are now incapable of solving problems without violence, so violence is what you have become. Your brother informs you that his plans have changed, and now you two will be working with Deathwatch. You have no idea what Deathwatch is or who your brother just made a deal with. You will follow him regardless.

You stand up and hit your head on the lamp above you. You were supposed to be shorter than you are now. Your body is wrong. You look in the mirror and you are not yourself. Your body isn't yours, but it is the only body you have.

Your brother takes over Mandalore. You watch as your brother marches Kenobi into the throne room and prepares to execute the Duchess of this planet.

Kenobi offers sympathy. Kenobi recognizes that your brother never had a choice in joining the dark side. Kenobi had gone to your village and seen what it is like for the nightbrothers. Kenobi, despite everything, is trying to be kind.

You hear your story in Kenobi's words. You never had a choice in any of this. You never stood a chance. Your body isn't yours, your mind has been warped and twisted into serving the goals of another. You only wanted to protect your brother.

Your brother kills the love of Kenobi's life. Your brother has stripped himself and you of any possible chance to take the olive branch Kenobi was extending. You ask if you should kill Kenobi now. You know that stewing in grief and guilt can be a terrible fate. Your brother decides to keep him imprisoned. Your brother is counting on the Kenobi stewing in his grief and guilt. Your brother wants to drag out his suffering for as long as possible.

Your brother is in charge for less than a rotation. Your brother panics and bows before a withered old man, calling him 'master'. Your brother lies and fawns to his master. Your brother's master does not care.

You have never met this man before. You have no reason to fight him. Your brother is terrified of him. Your brother grovels before nobody, but he bows before this man. You don't have to do this.

Your brother needs you. You draw your weapon.

You manage to get a hit in on your brother's master. You are one of very few in the galaxy who can say that. You are at your strongest when you are fighting to protect the people you love.

You are stabbed in both your hearts. Your efforts to protect your brother, your pain and suffering, your love and affection, you, Savage Opress, you don't matter. You didn't know it, but you were fighting the most powerful being in the galaxy.

You never had a choice. You never stood a chance.

You die thinking you were unworthy of your brother. Your brother never said or did anything to make you think otherwise. You die calling yourself apprentice, that is the relationship your brother wanted. Your brother holds your hand as you die, it is trembling. You aren't sure if it is from grief or hatred. You decide it must be the latter. Your brother is only capable of hatred.

You knew your brother was incapable of love. You loved him all the same.

You don't know that you might have been the only thing your brother cared about besides his vengeance. You don't know that when you are unconcious he calls you by your name, he calls you brother. You don't know that he nearly killed the Death Watch soldiers, but stopped when they threatened you. You couldn't know. Your brother never told you.

You don't know that he uses his grief as fuel for his duel with Sidious. You don't know that he switches his ire away from Kenobi and decides that his former master is a more pressing target of his hatred You don't know that he spends the rest of his days trying to find a new apprentice to fill the hole you left and that it never works. You will never know. You are dead.

You died realizing you were nothing like your brother. You never were. Your body shrinks down, you finally look like yourself again. You can't be happy about this. You can't take relief in the fact that all the magic which ruined your life has been dispelled. You can't feel anything. You are dead.

You are right. You are nothing like Darth Maul. Your brother is motivated by hatred, you are motivated by love. Your brother will die having found peace, you died having found nothing but pain and grief and yet more pain.

You are my favorite magical girl and you have suffered so much more than Jesus.

[scattered-winter]

every day i kick a rock and bash my head into the wall because i'll never get to go on a big space adventure and become tightly close-knit with my new found family up there <//3

[vaguely-concerned]

sometimes I think about the fact that bacta lost his virginity to tryst's sister. who looks enough like him that they easily pass for each other when they swap clothes. *touches ground gingerly* something psychosexual happened here. (good for rendezvous honestly it isn't her fault her brother is too emotionally dense and/or dysfunctional to get in there.) and then the next morning he found out the first person he was ever in love with probably isn't dead after all and never contacted him. it's a lot, to be a bacta in this world. single father despite having three co-parents, harried husband and grieving widower who's never once been married but is sometimes for sure divorced, teenage boy at his first real party, 'as your doctor I feel compelled to point out -- okay, that's, you're doing it anyway, sure, why not ', haunted veteran at the tender age of 17, owner of what must be the most common face across the galaxy, parentified oldest sibling despite being the youngest adult on the crew, sole qualified clipboard holder....... he's somehow doing it all at the same time and he's doing it on phindar, while making cupcakes

[forcebookish]

i am currently in the precarious situation where everything that i want to work on requires me researching in some way before i can do it and it's making my brain throw a tantrum because i just want to write but i know it will be no good and i'll have to rewrite it once i gather the information i need to actually work on it grrrrrrrrrrrrr

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Dorian Pavus

[hydrasaura]

now that i think abt it, looking back, srmthfg did a lot of stuff that i liked so much, let’s say regarding the main character. I find Chiro’s case so interesting because despite the fact that he is never given any backstory whatsoever, he becomes meaningful through his actions and becomes established and distinguished through his interactions with others. I think he is such a likeable character but not in the way that he’s perfect, he has his flaws and fears that he overcomes or struggles with. He is shown multiple times being kind towards others, even towards hideous creatures or animals (i mean it would be ironic for him to hate animals given that he lives with monkeys) which at the time was like such a breath of fresh air for me. Also the way characters constantly belittle/make fun of him for hanging out with animals and he just pretty much tells all of them to f off which is great. The majority of times the villains aren’t even naturally evil but corrupted by the evil force and the main characters recognize that and try to help as much as they can. Another thing that i like abt Chiro is that he’s supposed to be ‘’the chosen one’’ but he isn’t overpowered, he has several established moves which he uses throughout the show or improves and that’s it. and he loses, A LOT. Like there’s this great accent placed on the fact that they are a team and on how they are constantly saving each other.

AND GOD let me tell you, i dislike mechs, among all animals primates and monkeys are my least favorite and yet this show has somehow managed to make me love BOTH. The way they made me care so deeply abt each freaking technicolor monkey, about this pink mary-sue-ish robot-girl, and about that plain-ass looking super robot is INSANE. The writer somehow managed to give them so much personality. When Antauri [redacted] I was literally not okay for several weeks. I related to Gibson so much and his beef with Sprx was so fun and his relationship with Otto so nice. Nova was badass and funny and i loved the big sister kind of relationship she had with Chiro. I can’t even chose a fave out of the monkeys because they complemented each other so well. Jinmay seemed sorta boring at first but the fact that she was a robot made everything so much more interesting, i absolutely loved all the times when they would pit her against the heroes. I also loved that she was established from the beginning and kept being a recurring character even becoming a member of the team but not in the way that it would break the team’s mojo. The super-robot was so plain but the way they constantly showed us it was sentient was so eerie. AND god the villains where compelling, terrifying and idk felt like a constant looming threat. Idk maybe it’s nostalgia speaking but this show had so much shit that somehow newer shows/anime constantly miss and it makes me sad when i remember how it ended and how it has been literally forgotten by everyone. Sometimes i think it’s a fever dream because nobody ever mentions it, not even when they are talking abt ‘‘forgotten shows’‘ :’)))

[loveoaths]

i think about the droid/automaton temple guardians a lot. like--

they aren't alive, but they aren't not alive, either. they have varying degrees of sentience. they remember the jedi, some of them outlive the purge, knowing the jedi are gone save for whatever knowledge they've squirreled away in their memory banks.

cator, the droid guarding the jedi temple archives with jocasta nu, had a personality. he was serious about protecting and sheltering the jedi's knowledge and their history, so dedicated that he stood up to darth vader in an attempt to keep the list of force-sensitive children safe. sure, it was in his protocol to guard the archives, but he didn't have to care, or love it, or want to do this; we see many droids across star wars who do not give a single shit about their programmed duties, while still executing them.

but cator works hard, diligently and carefully, because cator loved his work, and he loved the jedi.

T0-B1 loved his jedi master so much! and his master loved him so much that he powered T0-B1 with the kyber crystal from his lightsaber! of course jedi wants to be a jedi. of course he wants to fight and protect and preserve life, not because he was programmed for it, because he wasn't, but because he wants to honor the man who gave his life to save him -- him, a "meaningless droid"!

then there are the tomb guardians on zeffo.

thousands upon thousands of years they've stood guard over the secrets of their creators, a species so powerful and gifted with the force that they were their own undoing. do the guardians know they're guarding tombs, or do they believe their masters will return some day from the other side of the veil, and the guardians will be there, waiting, stalwart sentinels ready to welcome them home? if they do know, did they mourn? could they have walked away from their posts but instead chose to stay, to keep the zeffo graves from being desecrated, because they'd rather the world forget their masters than allow them to suffer indignity?

did the guardians love the zeffo? surely they must have, without question.

the real question is: did the zeffo who whispered metal ore from the stone and gave them shape, gave them sentience, gave them purpose, love them back? they must have, in the way we all love the work of our hands.

but perhaps the most pressing question is:

long after their circuitry should have degraded, their power cores cracked and dripped empty, their shiny metal carapaces rusted off like so much disease -- what could it be that keeps these machines moving but their love for those who no longer exist anywhere but their memory?

how could you not love and be loved by something that made you, purposefully, in its image?????????

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

I will never understand why some people feel the need to defend the indefensible.

[butchhansolo]

when i say i like anything in star wars you can probably just assume theres an addendum about it being the star wars ive concocted in my mind. star wars could be so good if it was good