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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Mirdal’ika (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Reader takes care of the Razor Crest and the child while Mando is out hunting. When Mando doesn’t return when he’s supposed to, the book-smart reader has to learn some street smarts and help her Mandalorian.

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: violence, cussing, mentions of blood

A/N: Okay, I’m a nerd, a certified nerd as if that wasn’t clear. This is my love letter to the nerds out there, to the ones who had their first kiss a little late, who stayed in and read books rather than partying. I love you, you’re cool. Italics are for emphasis and internal dialogue, but in some places also to show that another language is being spoken. Hopefully that’s clear! Oh, also: mirdal’ika is a word of my own creation. No Mando’a word exists for “nerd” that I could find, so this is my interpretation of the language using my best etymological skills!

mirdala= intelligent, clever -’ika = suffix meaning small or little mirdal’ika = intelligent little one; Mando’a slang meaning nerd.

Growing up, you were the kid who had her nose buried in a book at all times. You rarely interacted with the outside world. While the other children on Tatooine made sandcastles or played games, drawing in the sand, you read encyclopedias and fact books, learning about the other planets in your systems and other cultures. Your fixation at age 12 had been on Mandalorian culture, fascinated by the warriors that were like faraway, mythical knights to your young self. As a child enraptured by fairy tales and stories of intergalactic heroes like Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, you’d somehow always been enchanted by the bad-boy type, the dark and mysterious man who reluctantly saves the day, more along the lines of Han Solo. Naturally, the fact that Mandalorians never showed their face was mysterious, and you’d admit that you dreamed of being swept away by the Mand’alor and having the privilege of being the sole person to see their face, of being a queen and finding true love. You later moved on to research other cultures, even teaching yourself various galactic languages should you ever get the chance to travel. That didn’t seem likely, growing up on a planet where the only claim to fame was Luke Skywalker’s brief residence a few towns over. Your knowledge of Mandalorian culture was part of what made you so special to Mando, your employer-friend-coworker-roommate-co-parent whose name you had yet to learn. You never asked questions of him. Never asked him to take off his helmet, never asked him what was under it, never asked anything too personal, understood that the helmet could only come off in front of members of his clan. You’d cut him off and finish a sentence when he’d explain something of his customs to you, stunning him with your knowledge. He liked it, and by association he liked you. You had bore much of your life story to him, and he gladly would’ve given you some of his. He had come to like you, to trust you even, but you never asked. For fear you wouldn’t want to hear it, he held back. You even spoke Mando’a, though he didn’t know that. It always brought a smirk to your face as he’d turn his back after calling you some sweet words in his native tongue, thinking you’d be oblivious. It shocked you at first; you didn’t expect such a stoic and silent man to be so openly flirtatious, but after a while it most certainly grew on you. You would tease him equally in another tongue, calling him handsome or dashing in Pak Pak or Bothese. It was fun, the way he’d try to guess what you were saying, usually assuming it meant something negative.

With your vast knowledge of languages, you’d both expected that you would be able to interpret the words of Mando’s adopted son, that his babbling would be easily deciphered into some species’ tongue. Eventually you realized that he wasn’t speaking a language yet, simply regurgitating syllables like any child would. He was a baby, after all. You set out to make it your mission to teach the child languages when Mando was away, and he had begun to identify the meaning of words, even if he couldn’t say them himself. He could identify body parts on himself, you by your name, and Mando by his; well, the name you called him, which you knew wasn’t his real name. Mando had taken you on as a crewmate for the Razor Crest a few months ago now, and you still knew next to nothing about the beskar-clad warrior. He was a forward man, so you assumed he would tell you things when he was ready. That’s about all you knew: he was a man, and he was a Mandalorian. He wanted to tell you everything, especially the fact that he had been enchanted by your intelligence and wit since the first time he met you, stopping on Tatooine for a bounty and encountering you when he asked a fellow villager who the most knowledgeable person around was. The tiny green thing he held was a menace, and you cared for him while the Mandalorian man went and hunted his bounty. The child was hesitant to leave you, getting attached after a quick few days of staying in your hut, and the man had decided you could be valuable. Just before he walked through the door, he turned and offered you a job. You were shy when you accepted, and had nursed a crush the whole time you two had traveled together. You couldn’t believe the situation, just like in those trashy novels you’d read when you were interested in his culture. Now that you lived with him and the tiny green thing, you stayed aboard his ship while he hunted and cared for the kid, cleaned, fixed up the piece of junk, and generally ran the almost-household. It was enjoyable; you liked the man, especially once you came to find his sense of humor similar to your own, and you absolutely adored the child in your care. Your little ragtag crew fell into a rhythm after the first month or so: Mando would leave on a hunt for a few days. While he was gone, you’d play with the baby, feed him and care for him. You washed the blood and dirt from the man’s clothing and the child’s bile from the clothing belonging to you and the baby, taught the child new words, and generally… well, raised him. The baby felt like your child when you two were alone, but when the Mandalorian came home, he was the only thing visible in that child’s round black eyes. It was all about him, sitting in his lap, babbling incoherent words to him, playing with him. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian is on a hunt. You and the child sit in the bed compartment; you lie on the mattress and the child rests in his mesh hammock above the entry. At the last port, you picked up as many books as possible to entertain both you and the child. He loved listening to your voice, and so you happily read aloud to him as you rest together. The Mandalorian should be home tonight, you figured, since he told you that this was a rather easy bounty and that it should take him no more than 3 days. It’s now a couple hours after the third day, but you’re sure it’s fine. The child’s eyes droop closed as you read to him, flawlessly translating the book from the Pak Pak it was written in. The Basic words pour from your mouth, and the little thing gives a gentle yawn before curling up with his favorite blanket and silver ball and passing out. Looking up, you laugh at the sight softly and transition to reading in your head. Not long after the kid falls asleep, you follow. It was unintentional, but reading soothes you, and the perfectly cozy bed that smells like Mando draws you in further and further until sleep washes over your body. You hug one pillow to your chest as you sleep, imagining it was the man’s body you cuddled up against. - Mando is 24 hours late. You’ve been pacing in the ship since you realized it’s officially a day later than he said he’d be back. Dammit, you’re going to find that man. You’re not unaccustomed to violence, having been in scuffles as a child and teen, fighting off Jawas or unsavory men in Tatooine cantinas. You need to track him down and find him. First, you go up to the cockpit and look at the comm watch he gave you. It has a two-way tracking device; one for him to find you, and one for you to find him. Mando has the technology to see where you are built into his vambrace. You, however, have nothing. After searching the cockpit, you find and crack open a tracking fob he used in the past. You open the back of the comm watch, finding the bit with the tracker and wire it to the fob. As you connect two wires, the fob suddenly blinks with light. Laughing at the fact that you made it work, you relax a little. Now you can track the Mandalorian man down. After slipping the fob into a pocket of your pants, you scoot back down the ladder and to the cargo hold’s back wall: Mando’s arsenal. You can do this, you tell yourself, and dare to open Mando’s personal armory built into the wall. You strap a holster to your thigh, adding a vibroblade there. A belt with two guns rests on your hips. An ammo belt drapes across your chest, settling between your breasts and pulling your black tank top tight, the back of the leather sash holding Mando’s backup pulse rifle. You take a look in the mirror of the refresher, and you have to admit that you look badass. Weapons and homemade tracker at the ready, you set out to find him. You leave the baby with a trustworthy woman at the hangar, one who has babysat him before for Mando, then enter the bustling city. - Following the blinking and beeping of the fob, you find your way to the opposite end of the city, to a building located near the outskirts. It’s run down and looks abandoned. It makes perfect sense that someone would hide here. As you approach, the beeping of the fob encourages you; the Mandalorian is definitely here. You disable the sound on the fob and slip it in your pocket, grabbing one of the blasters from your hip. As you approach, the building is silent. The roar of the city is quiet but present, and you slip through an open doorway quietly. You scan the rooms, blaster held in front of you and ready to shoot. You take inventory of the first floor and find nothing. The staircase looks terribly old, and you wince as you take your first step onto it and it makes a noise. Now or never, you tell yourself and quickly run up the steps, knowing the noise can’t be avoided, so you’d better make it quick. You reach the top of the steps, pulling out your other blaster, and find a male Twi’lek standing over a pile of silver and black on the floor. Mando. He’s most definitely unconscious, maybe even- no, he can’t be dead, you can see his slow breathing and the way it makes his body rise and fall. “Fuck,” you say out loud, and the Twi’lek turns towards you. The man is large, much larger than you. He’s overweight and dressed in combat clothes, his face battered and bloody. Your heart sinks as you realize this man is the bounty Mando was going for. You need to start thinking on your feet, and quickly. The man starts to move toward you and you hold out both blasters. “Easy there, nerra,” you tell him in Twi’leki, calling him ‘brother’ to attempt to put him at ease. It doesn’t have the effect that you hoped. “Why are you here?” he asks back, also in Twi’leki, reaching for his weapon. “Don’t draw,” you threaten and inch closer. He was a bail jumper, Mando had informed you before he left, but not for a petty charge; he had escaped in order to avoid several charges of murder. He was a former bounty hunter, who Mando had encountered once. The idea strikes you. “I’m here for him,” you say and nod to the lump of beskar behind the man on the ground. “There’s a bounty on his head. I… heard whoever turns him in gets to keep the beskar too,” you say, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “You going for him too?” The Twi’lek man shakes his head. “No. He was coming for me. Thought he could beat me.” You seize this opportunity. “From what you look like, I don’t think anyone could. This one is worth a lot of credits. Enough to run away to a pleasure planet… twice over,” you say, inching closer. Mando makes a soft groan and it breaks your heart as he gains consciousness. He must notice you; he starts to moan out words, but you know he can’t speak or he’ll expose you both. “Silence, Mandalorian,” you say again in Basic, words holding acid. “Twice over… let’s bring him in together. Find some wonderful planet to share that bounty on…” you offer, raising an eyebrow and slowly creeping closer to the man. “What’s your name?” You ask. He tells you his and you tell him yours, then give him a seductive smile. The man’s face falls into a smirk. You put both blasters in your belt once more and his posture relaxes fully. “Sounds wonderful to me, beautiful.” “Wow. For a jaded bounty hunter, you’re more foolish than one could ever believe.” Before the man can process your words, you’ve slung the pulse rifle over your shoulder and pull it into position. You shoot a pulse and it finds its target in his chest. He groans in agony and falls backwards, directly on top of Mando. Wincing for the man beneath the hulking Twi’lek, you grab a blaster, shooting the man in each leg. “Mando, hey, it’s me,” you tell him as you roll the behemoth from on top of him. “I’m here,” you murmur. He starts mumbling back, but it’s in Mando’a. That makes sense, you suppose, that he’s reverting in such a moment of crisis. “How hurt are you?” you ask, beginning to speak Mando’a to him in hopes he’ll understand you better. Mando’s brain works through the fog, hearing your words and recognizing that it’s you. “Real bad,” he groans out, speaking his native tongue. You touch his elbow, unprotected by beskar, and he whines. “No, no,” he whimpers, sounding almost like a child. You sigh. This was going to be harder than you expected. “Fuck, how am I going to get you out of here?” The brain function that the Mandalorian has left is your saving grace. “Speeder bike. Hidden down there. We can get on.” “Yes, but how are we going to get you downstairs?” He doesn’t respond, simply groans in pain. If this was going to work without immense pain on his part, some kind of miracle was going to need to happen. “I’m going to drag you down the stairs as carefully as I can, okay? We’ll let gravity do the work. Do you have a good arm?” “The left one… so clever, so smart, pretty girl,” he breathes out, words rasping. You blush at the words but chuckle. He’s in so much pain there’s no way he can think straight now. “I’ll go get the bike, then we’ll get you down there.” This is the hard part, you think to yourself. First, you run down the steps and search for the speeder bike Mando mentioned. You find it and sigh in relief. It’s a piece of junk, but it should do. You position it at the bottom of the stairs and then run up them again. “Okay, this is going to hurt. Can you roll yourself?” “No, shoulder’s all fucked up,” he mumbles and you groan. “Well, I’ll have to drag you on the good one. Get ready.” Taking his good arm, you begin dragging him towards the steps. He groans and you wince. “I’m so sorry, you’re doing so well,” you tell him as you move him. “Here we go.” Once he’s at the top of the steps, you hold him under his armpits, blushing at how close you are. He’s so strong, even injured, and you smile softly to yourself. You lower the two of you down the stairs with careful movements and manage to hold him long enough to get him seated on the speeder bike. He leans forward onto the handles. “One moment,” you tell him. Running up the stairs once more, you shoot another pulse into the bounty. He gives a dazed nod, clearly not understanding anything through the pain he’s in. You can’t let Mando leave this man behind. You’re sure he’s unconscious, so you repeat the same movements as before but with next to no gentleness. You toss him on the back of the speeder bike, where the gunner would sit, and tie him down with ropes before covering him with a blanket. “Alright, back to the ship as quick as we possibly can,” you inform Mando and get the speeder to a door wide enough to fit it through. Once it works, you hop on between Mando and the handlebar and start it up, moving as quickly as you possibly can. Soon enough, you’re back at the hangar that holds the Razor Crest. You enter the back way, using the speeder bike entrance. You hop off quickly and park it by the Crest. “Stay right there, I’m going to get this asshole into the carbonite,” you tell Mando. His consciousness hasn’t been clear for at least a day. He didn’t even process the fact that you had grabbed the bounty. “What? You got him?” “One of us had to,” you tease, enjoying the fact that the two of you are finally conversing in his native tongue. You’ve always loved Mando’a, the way the words sound rolling off your tongue. You untie the man, still unconscious, and haul him up the ramp of the Crest. You’ve seen Mando work the carbonite freezer once or twice, and you hope you press the right buttons as you force the man onto the slab. “Come on, baby,” you murmur to the machine, hoping it’ll work. With one final button, there’s a hiss and cold air blows from it, freezing him. You sigh in relief. You return to the main hold and pop out a cot for him to lie on. Running back down the ramp, you find the dazed Mandalorian in the exact spot you left him in. “I’m going to carry you into the ship,” you tell him, grunting with effort as you lift his practically deadweight body off of the side and into a standing position. You drag him up and immediately shove him onto the cot. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you cringe as he moans in pain at the contact with the cot. “One more thing and we’ll get some bacta in you.” The owner of the hangar is waiting for you outside the ship, holding the kid, both confused by the commotion. You very quickly and hurriedly explain to her that everything is fine now, thank her and pay her a generous amount of credits, and rush back onto the ship with the baby. “Keep the speeder!” You shout behind you as you close the ramp. - A full day and a half later, the Mandalorian awakens from a deep slumber with a pounding headache. He sits with a jolt, which only makes the headache worse. He looks around to find that he’s in the Razor Crest, the familiar hum indicating that he’s in hyperspace. The events of the past few days begin to manifest in his memory and he groans, lying back down on the cot. You climb down from the cockpit as you hear him stirring and find him on his side. “Good morning,” you say softly as you sit on the edge of his cot, the kid in your arm. You set the child down and he toddles off elsewhere. “You were out for a good day and a half,” you tell him and stroke his side softly. “How do you feel?” “Like shit,” he groans, rolling to his back again. He’s hyper aware of your touch, the way your fingers drag down his- oh shit, he’s shirtless, armorless- skin, avoiding the bruises. “You… thank you,” he says, gravelly voice soft. It sinks in that he’s wearing just a pair of shorts and his helmet. You must’ve undressed him, cleaned and bandaged his wounds. His breath catches in his throat. You nod and stroke his good arm. “Of course. That’s why you brought me on, isn’t it?” you tease. He chuckles, but it’s clear that takes effort. “Really, thank you. And you got the bounty too! Shit, mesh’la, I-” he says as he starts to sit, but you push him back down with a hand to his chest, caressing the side of his beskar helmet. “Nayc, stay down,” you tell him, chuckling softly. “Rest. I’ll bring you some water and go back up to the cockpit so you can take off the helmet,” you say with a soft smile, standing and going to where you keep the food and water bottles. As you move, he mulls over the events that led him here. He got knocked down and beat by the man that was supposed to be his bounty. That never happened. You came to rescue him and- wait. You just told him no, nayc, in Mando’a. In fact, you were speaking Mando’a to him the whole time you rescued him, reassuring him and directing him in his native tongue, which he had no idea you spoke until just now. You return with a nutrient bar and water bottle, setting them next to his side on the cot. “I’ll head back up-” you start to say, but he stops you by grabbing his wrist. “You speak Mando’a,” he says simply, looking up at you with wonder behind his mask. “Yeah,” you chuckle and admit, face flushing with warmth. His is equally heating beneath the beskar. He sits up slightly but instead you come to his level, sitting on the edge of the cot and pushing him down with a firm palm to his chest. He chuckles softly. “So you’ve understood me every time I’ve called you beautiful,” he says, a tinge of shyness in his modulated voice. Nodding, you tuck a stray hair back from your face. “I… yes, I have,” you nod, giving him an awkward smile. “I hear you talk in Mando'a in your sleep too, sometimes.” Even his chest is flushing with warmth now. You look away, at a corner of the ship “You talk about your life. People from your past.” The silence hangs between the two of you, your hand still resting in the center of his chest. You slowly drag it to his good shoulder, and down his arm. He clasps your hand in his when it reaches his fingertips. “Have you heard the name Din?” He asks in his native tongue, and you shake your head softly, truthfully. It never came out. “That’s… my name. Din, Din Djarin,” he admits to you, hand squeezing yours softly. You gasp softly, not expecting that information from him. A smile settles on your face after a moment. “Well then. Hello, Din.” You lean down and press your forehead to where his lies beneath the metal. A keldabe kiss, you know, the most intimate gesture a Mandalorian can do. It truly melts his heart, the organ pumping frantically in his chest. “Hello to you too, gorgeous. Wait,” he stops and pushes your face from his, gently. He returns to speaking Basic with a chuckle. “How many languages do you speak?” You look upwards, mentally counting. “Uh. 8 and a half. I’m still not finished with Ubese,” you say and turn back to face him, a shy smile gracing your face. “Wow. You’re a mirdal’ika,” he tells you, the smile evident in his voice even though you can’t see it through the mask. Separately, the syllables make sense. You understand the direct translation, but it’s odd, and you cock your head to the side as you look down at the Mandalorian- no, Din. “Little clever one?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Yes, well, that’s the direct translation. It’s really more of a slang term.” “For?” “In Basic… I believe the equivalent would be… nerd.” “Din!” You squeal and laugh, smacking his good shoulder lightly with a backhand. “Excuse me, that’s rude,” you chuckle, the smile growing even wider on your face as you look down at him. He doesn’t respond for a moment and you give a soft sigh. “Well, you need to drink that water. I’ll head back up to the cockpit,” you tell him, really meaning to leave this time, the smile falling. Once again, as you stand and try to move, he grabs your arm. “I… I think I’m going to need help with that,” he admits, almost ashamed. “Please. Stay.” You nod, but then realize what it implicates. “No, Din,” you sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t do that to you, you and that helmet, it’s… it’s your everything, I couldn’t possibly-” “Please, cyare,” he asks in his native tongue again, and your heart melts. “I want you to see me. I need you to see me.” Heart pounding, you take a beat before you respond with a nod. You sit down once more, hands slowly tracing up his sides, then his chest and up to the base of his helmet. “You’re sure. Positive,” you ask. “Of course I am.” With a nod, you allow him to bring his hand to the side to unlatch the lock. Once it releases, he lifts his head just above the pillow and you slide off his helmet, catching the back of his head with one hand and easing it back down to the pillow. You make sure the helmet rests on the floor before you finally look at him. He’s gorgeous, truly. His tanned skin, which you saw when cleaning his wounds, is covered with dark stubble and a mustache on the lower half of his face, broken by two plush lips. Your fingertips trace his jawline as you take in his softly hooked nose, his dark eyebrows, his dark and messy hair, but most importantly, his eyes. His eyes are a beautiful chocolate brown, set gently into his face and looking at you like you’re a shimmering supernova, no, something even more beautiful. For a moment, you get caught up staring at him. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Din,” you mumble in Mando’a. He just gives a soft smile and murmurs his thanks. After you finish staring, you shake your head quickly. “Sorry, the water,” you chuckle nervously, turning to grab it from your other side. Din’s hand catches the side of your face. “The water is a secondary need,” he says softly in Mando’a, turning your face back to his. “I took this off for something else.” His eyes hold a question as he looks up at you. You bite your lip for a moment before breaking into a smile and nodding. The Mandalorian pulls your face down to his, and, ever so gently, your lips finally meet, real and warm and absolutely delicious. You sigh softly, putting a hand on the side of his face too. His lips are softer than you’d expected, while yours are just as beautiful as he dreamed about at night. You both continue for a moment, his hand drifting to your neck, completely lost in each other. A moment later, you pull back and giggle. “I have to admit something, Din,” you tell him and lovingly stroke the side of his face. “It better not be that you’re secretly engaged,” he asks teasingly, a soft smile on his face and raising an eyebrow at you. “No,” you laugh and run your hand through his curls, carding your fingers between the surprisingly soft locks. “That…” you gulp and look away before looking back at him. “Was my first kiss,” you admit and bite down on your bottom lip. He laughs softly but there’s love in his eyes. “A girl as beautiful as you never dated when you were younger? Never went out and flirted with her classmates?” You shake your head. “I was generally too busy at home, reading or teaching myself the language of the man who’d eventually be my first kiss.” You both laugh at that and you grin. His hand rests on the side of your face, gently sweeping his thumb across the skin beneath his fingers. “Of course you were. My little mirdal’ika,” he laughs, bringing your face to his to kiss you once more.

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

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What if...10b

Okay, so this ‘epilogue’ became... a monster. I decided to split chapter 10 into two parts because it was already so big, and, uh, yeah, now I’m splitting 10b into three parts. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU ENABLE ME, PEOPLE. Your lovely comments, your kind reblogs and support turned this from what was supposed to be no more than 4 chapters into 90 000 word ramble.

*ahem*

So part 10b is Dulcy POV, 10c is chaotic everyone POV, and then there will be a bonus part for someone who didn’t get to join Dulcy and Dav’s little family.

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10a

Epilogue; Dulcy

“We’ll be back later, dad!” Corin exclaims from where he’s standing next to Din in the doorway, eager to call Davarax that at every occasion he can find.

Davarax nods and gives a light wave to the two teenagers about to step out of the house they have rented on this obscure, little planet and head into the nearby town. (Having picked up a bit of Motti credits makes things a lot easier.) “Duly noted, son.”

The slight smile on his face tells Dulsissia that Davarax is well aware of Corin’s need to constantly reaffirm their new relationship and indulges him with never-ending patience. But what she also notes is how Din hesitates half a second while Corin turns to leave and she sees there is hurt in his dark eyes as they linger on Davarax.

That evening, while Barthor wraps up his conversation with his father via the holo-communicator, Davarax holds Raga back until the boy is done and the line is free for her to call her parents.

Dulsissia glances after Barthor shuffling back towards their house, helmet held low and shoulders slumped. Just like during previous calls, his parents show close to no interest in their son and he is equally disappointed every time. “Dav?”

Davarax turns his attention away from Raga and over to Dulsissia. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you adopt the others too? Like you did with Corin?” Her heart breaks every time she sees these children with sadness in their eyes and Davarax is the one who always brings smiles to their faces.

Sighing, Davarax leans against the door frame. “It’s not that easy…”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, Paz and Raga have their families. The Saxons are… unique, but they love her. And Dez, well, I hope that maybe he’ll come to his senses.” Davarax looks over at Barthor’s retreating shape as well. “Barthor… I might have to talk to him about it.”

Dulsissia frowns as he doesn’t mention the most obvious one of all; “What about Din?”

“Din…” Davarax looks down at the floor. He looks guilty. “I messed that up. Big time.”

“He’d forgive you in a heartbeat.” Dulsissia declares. “He worships you.”

“Maybe.” Davarax replies, not sounding convinced. “But I don’t deserve his forgiveness. And after what he’s been through, I think Din needs to be allowed to hold on to his roots before another adult tries to pressure their identity on him.”

What that boy needs is a father, Dulsissia thinks, but before she can voice her thoughts she’s distracted by someone shouting. Looking over, she sees Raga’s mother in the holo-projector screaming at someone out of sight before turning back to focus on her daughter again.

“What was that, Raga? You said something about how many push ups? You’re up to what now?”

“Fifty-”

“PUT THAT DOWN!” Raga’s mother bellows to her right and then makes a frustrated grunt and reaches out to grab someone. “Here. Talk to your brother. I have to murder your other two brothers for a bit.” She steps away and a smaller Mandalorian with a green helmet takes her place.

“Raga. Still ugly I see. You really should have kept the helmet on.”

“Sioben. Still a moron, I hear. I was kind of hoping dad had followed through on his threat to dropkick you into space.” Raga counters. “Paz taught me some new tricks. I’m going to kick your ass when I see you again.”

Sioben shakes his head. “I don’t know why he puts up with you. He could have anyone he wants, he’s a huge badass ‘and’ a Vizla. I can’t think of a single reason why he lets you stick around.”

“Don’t hurt your brain trying to think.” Raga snarls.

“At least I have a brain. Unlike you.” Sioben fires back.

A hand appears and smacks into Sioben’s helmet and he goes toppling out of sight and Raga’s mother appears again. “Listen, I have to go. I’m a bit busy here. Say hi to Davarax from me. Be careful out there, Raga. Byebye.” The woman’s holo-image dissolves and she’s gone.

When Raga walks out of the room, Dulsissia reaches out and touches her shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“What for?” Raga asks with a huge grin. “Didn’t you hear that? She didn’t yell at me once!”

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax with a look of slight belief while the girl walks away, humming happily and he can only offer a weak shrug in return.

And on the subject of Paz and Raga...

While there are still sides to the Mandalorian culture that are still a mystery to her, Dulsissia remembers more than enough about what it was like to be a human a teenager to see what is happening there.

The two have been drawn together as friends since they were small children, as far as Dulsissia understands. They always gravitate towards each other. If you see one, odds are good that the other is nearby or about to appear. And Dulsissia feels both compassion and amusement as she sees the growing awkwardness as a different kind of attraction between them starts to enter the picture.

Dulsissia tries to hide her laughter when she sees Raga pretending to need a water break but only so she can let her gaze roam all over Paz as he continues his intense training next to her. Raga has always been climbing him like a jungle gym, but these days it brings a flush to her cheeks when he holds her close or play-wrestle with her, and Raga even smiles in her sleep the times she drowses off with her head resting on his chest. It’s a shame she seems unable to voice what she feels.

This leads to the seething anger in Raga’s eyes when Paz mindlessly flirt with the local girls and basks in their attention. An anger which causes her to pick fights with Din and the others, violent fights that always ends badly for at least one of them and Davarax has to patch them up while trying to calm Raga down.

At the same time, with a stealth worthy of admiration, Paz’ gaze discretely seeks out Raga with an interest and longing he doesn’t show any of the local girls desperately trying to hold his attention. His attention trail along her curves, he flushes at glimpses of her skin and it is kind of cute how he’s only happy if Raga is happy.

Unfortunately Paz seems too insecure, which is absurd, to actually show how her how he feels.

His temper is as bad as Raga’s, though, which causes Paz to one day actually punch a hole in a wall. He flat out refuses to explain why he’d done it, even when Davarax wraps up his bleeding hand and asks in a frustrated voice what is going on with him, but Dulsissia accidentally overheard earlier when Raga agreed to go out on a date with a suitor of her own and suspects that is why.

“I’m going to help them.” Dulsissia declares one morning after Raga had managed to draw both Din and Corin into a vicious brawl the previous evening, just after Paz had gone out to meet some girl.

Davarax grunts, half-asleep on his stomach with his face partly burrowed into the pillow. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

She sends him, or his back to be more precise, a dry glance. “Are you kidding me? Those two? If someone doesn’t help them along, it’ll take yeeaars.”

Davarax snorts a laugh. “At your own peril, cyare.”

Dulsissia thinks about all her excellent work as a matchmaker back on Seswenna. That included family ranks, politics and enough credits to buy a minor planet. These are two teenagers. She’s got this.

It’s a delicate mission. First Dulsissia establishes through a little research that there is absolutely no doubt that these two feel the same and are just too emotionally constipated to do something about it, then she goes to work on them separately. Hints, questions and light nudges.

It takes a surprisingly short time for them to admit to her what she already knows, but neither is willing to make the first move.

“Why not go for it?” Dulsissia eventually asks..

“I don’t think he/she thinks of me that way…” Raga/Paz replies. Her face bright red as she half-heartedly trains defensive moves with Dulsissia one sun-soaked day. Him with quiet sadness when Dulsissia delivers some clean laundry to his room one evening.

“I think you’d be surprised.” Dulsissia teases and winks.

After that, they become a little braver. Instead of just friendly bickering, Raga and Paz both add a little intent and teasing to their interactions, and that eventually develop into outright flirting.

During training Davarax sends Dulsissia a dry look when Paz, instead of following through with his attack, merely keeps his hands against the wall, fencing in the grinning and uncharacteristically passive Raga and hovers there with a slight smirk of his own. Davarax rolls his eyes when Raga, after flipping Paz over and have him land on his back, simply straddles his stomach and pretends to hold him down with her hands on his shoulders instead of following through with her attack and Paz, also uncharacteristically passive, looks like he’s enjoying himself more than anything else.

Dulsissia regrets nothing.

Barthor is in heavy denial, Din wrinkles his nose and Corin is incredibly oblivious as Paz and Raga keep inching their way closer to what they both dream about having. They push things as far as they can go and then some, before one of them finally dares to cross the line...

Sitting next to each other on the stairs behind the big battle arena, Paz and Raga had decided to sneak outside the building instead of staying with the others to watch the final game. Usually they both live and breathe for such big fights, but for some reason it seemed more tempting to sneak off like this.

They sit in this dark back-alley, her shoulder bumping lightly against his upper arm, talking.

It’s silly. They see each other every day, they talk every day, and yet they struggle to look at the other right now. Words tumble a little awkwardly. Hearts thump hard.

Then there is a huge cheer from the crowd inside the arena and Paz looks over at Raga. She looks back over at him, and after a moment of hesitation, he cautiously leans towards her.

Raga’s eyes light up. Oh. But just as she lifts her chin a little to meet him, giving him an unspoken invite, Paz abruptly loses his courage and quickly withdraws to stare down at the ground again.

Raga exhales, disappointed. Suddenly her eyes flare with angry annoyance and she thumps her shoulder against his arm, and when he looks at her, she quickly leans over and presses a brief, hard kiss to his lips. After that, she’s the one to turn to stare at the ground while heat burns in her face.

Stunned, Paz stares at her. He stares for what feels like a small eternity, then he slowly reaches out his hand, touches by her jawline and eases her into facing him again. And that is when he finally has the courage to lean over, his fingers still resting on her skin, and ever so softly touches his lips to hers.

It’s a gentle, trying thing. Raga draws a shivering breath, her lips trembling a little as well but soon they move to meet his as he cautiously coaxes a response from her.

After a little while, Paz pulls back and scans her face for her response.

Raga grins.

That makes him smile as well.

Dulsissia is obnoxiously pleased. Declaring herself the matchmaking champion.

Davarax only regrets not stopping her when stolen kisses in secret between the two becomes public make-out sessions. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have minded if had taken yeeeaars before he had to see that.

But he draws the line of having to watch it in their house. Entering the living room and finding them at it again, Davarax kicks at the sofa, making them jump apart. “Tongues in separate mouths when I’m around. Not negotiable.”

Paz flushes deep red. Raga glares.

And Dulsissia wonders who she can match up next...

While Dulsissia’s stop on Seswenna had resulted in them having a nice amount of credits to use on their family, Davarax knows they won’t last forever and he’s too used to support his family to stop, so he takes on the occasional job. And it’s easier now than before Dulsissia came into his life.

It’s strange not be be constantly exhausted. It’s even stranger not to have nightmares any more but wake up in the mornings with a sigh of satisfaction or even a smile on his face.

His favourite jobs are the ones where Dulsissia joins him. She’s come far from the helpless beauty he’d met what feels like a lifetime ago. Now she’s a deadly beauty. And the sight of her in Mandalorian armor is the best bonus he’s ever gotten on a job.

This is an easy contract. Just head up to a damaged cargo ship floating just above the planet, pick up the shipment and bring it to the owner on the surface. It’s the rumours of pirates in the area that makes them want to hire a couple of Mandalorians.

The ship is where it’s supposed to be, there are no signs of pirates, and Davarax does the mistake of thinking this mission will go without a hitch. He and Dulsissia board the ship and walk towards the cargo hold to secure their target.

It is years of experience combined with quick reflexes that saves Davarax’ life when something drops from the ceiling in the hallway. He jolts backwards and sparks fly as something sharp slides across his breastplate. Davarax tries to lift his blaster to fire at his attacker, but a boot kicks his arm and the shot goes wide.

It becomes a wild dance of attacks launched at him, sparks flying again and again when his armor takes the brunt, and he frantically back-pedals to stay alive. A streak of yellow spins in front of him and Davarax gets his arm up just in time for the vibro blade to impale it instead of his throat. The pain rages through him and instinct makes Davarax turn to the best weapon he has in such a close encounter; a harsh kov’nyn.

His opponent collapses while he stumbles backwards and clutches his arm. The blade is still vibrating and sending waves of agony through him while tearing more of his flesh. He yanks it out, fighting back the intense urge to scream with pain, unable to respond right away despite hearing Dulsissia calling out his name in fear.

Once his eyes clears again, Davarax realizes Dulsissia is by his side and trying to make him let her look at his arm and he sees the crumpled shape on the floor.

A skinny Twi’lek youth around Raga’s age. Her skin under layers of dirt looks to be pale yellow, her clothes are rags and even unconscious she looks angry.

Well, that was unexpected.

“She’s just a kid.” Dulsissia whispers with quiet disbelief, wrapping his arm.

“I was too busy trying to keep her from cutting my throat to notice.” Davarax rumbles, twitching slightly when Dulsissia tightens the bandage. His heart softens. “I wonder what her story is...”

Her name is Zev’sonya and she’s anything but friendly. Sure, his own kids have a habit of baring their teeth every once in a while, even at him, but this one? She’s outright hostile and extremely dangerous. And while his kids’ trust in others has been severely damaged, hers is non-existent. Whatever her story might be, she’s not telling them anything beyond her being on her own.

Davarax has absolutely no idea how Dulsissia manages to persuade the girl to come with them.

It takes over a standard week to make her stop trying to kill and rob them. A lot longer for her to actually trust them, especially Davarax.

Zev’sonya and Raga end up in a fist-fight two minutes after the initial introduction. Paz watches her with some cautiousness but he’s not unfriendly. Barthor avoids her like the plague. Corin is terrified of her and claims she keeps stealing the blades in the house. (Dulsissia knows he’s right as she keeps retrieving them from the twi’lek’s room.)

The only one she instantly connects with is Din, who seems to share her way of communicating in as few words as possible and have no fear of her scowls.

They renew their rent on the house and Davarax recruits Din to help build a couple of sheds and do some repairs on it.

After a scorchingly hot day, emerging from the refresher room, Dulsissia saunters over to the big bed in their room where Davarax is reading something on his datapad. She crawls into the bed and rolls over to face him with a dramatic sigh. “Dav? Cyare?”

“Mmh?” He replies, not looking up from his datapad.

“I’m hungry…”

Davarax lowers the datapad and reaches out to run his hand gently over her hair. “What are you in the mood for?”

“There’s leftovers from dinner...”

She rarely asks him to bring her things because she knows he will stop whatever he’s doing and get it and she doesn’t want to abuse that kindness. But this is a special occasion. After he’s padded out of the room, she slides the medical scanner out of her pocket and places it on his side of the bed.

A few minutes later, Davarax comes back with two plates. “Food for my love. And I brought some sweets for dessert too. Might as well make it a proper meal when we’re dining in bed.” He hands her one of the plates with flourish.

She leans up and gives him a kiss, which he is very pleased to accept, and waits as he circles the bed to get in on his side.

Davarax frowns a little when he sees something in his way, reaches down and picks it up so he can settle in his spot again. “This yours?” He holds it out to her.

Sighing, Dulsissia fails to hold back a smile. “Look at it.”

He studies the device but the numbers on the screen doesn’t make sense to him. Davarax glances over at her again, now a little worried. “A medical scanner? You’re not sick, are you?”

She shakes her head, losing the battle against a bubbling laugh. “No. Look at it, silly.”

Davarax looks again. “I’m looking, but what am I supposed to…” Finally the information on the screen makes sense to him and what it means. His gaze snaps back at her. The plate in his other hand is completely forgotten. “Y-you’re…? Are you…?”

Taking a bite of her food, Dulsissia nods and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “I’m pregnant.” It’s almost funny how happy she is with this fact. After Corin was born, the mere thought of having another baby offended Dulsissia after she had come to realize that was the only reason why Macero wanted her. But that was in the past. Things are so very different now.

Davarax nearly drops his plate, only his quick reflexes prevents him from spilling it all over the bed. He cautiously, but as quickly as possible, places his plate on the night-stand so he can hold on to the medical scanner with both hands, reading the information once again. “You… You’re sure?”

“You’re looking at the evidence, mister. I scanned ten minutes ago.” She takes another bite, endlessly amused by the whirlwind of emotions visibly rushing through him. He keeps wobbling back and forth between intense happiness, paralysing fear and blind excitement. It is so painfully sweet to see how much he wants this. “Breathe, baby.” Dulsissia advices.

Davarax gulps down some air, then puts the scanner aside and turns all of his focus on her. “Are… are you okay? Do you need me to do anything? What do I do?”

Laughing a little, even more charmed by him being so uncharacteristically clumsy and helpless, Dulsissia glances over at him. “I thought Mandalorians were experts on children. They didn’t teach you about how this is going to work?”

Davarax hesitates and then he reaches out and touches her hand. “Sort of, but all I care about is what you need me to do. Weapons and flowers, remember?”

Dulsissia feels the usual wave of warmth and adoration when Davarax is his sweet self and she curls her fingers around his. “I remember. And we’ll work this out as well.”

That seems to reassure him and his shoulders relaxes a little. Enough so that she lets go of his hand and goes back to eating. Maybe it is just knowing she’s pregnant again that makes her so hungry, but at least it is a very valid excuse to indulge.

Davarax is silent. Too silent.

After a while, Dulsissia has to laugh again as she realizes what he’s doing. He’s staring at her stomach. “There is nothing noticeable going on there quite yet. It’s too early. You’re going to have to be patient for a while before things get exciting for you.”

Davarax gives a tiny shake of his head. “This is already one of the most exciting things I’ve ever been a part of.” He looks like he’s about to say something more but loses courage.

“What?” Dulsissia asks, taking another bite of her food.

“Can I…?” He lifts his hand a little in a mute request.

Stars above, she loves this man more than she thought was possible. Dulsissia lets out a soft laugh. “There’s nothing much to feel right now, like I said, but… if you want to, go ahead.”

Davarax inches closer, reaches out further and cautiously places his hand on her stomach, below her bellybutton. His hand is warm and so very careful and lingers there for a while. “Hey, you…” Davarax eventually says in a quiet voice, a little strained with emotion. “Welcome to the family.”

Dulsissia doesn’t make a sound as the first tears trail from her eyes, overwhelmed by how right this feels, how much she loves him and their unborn child and their beautiful family. This time, she knows, this time everything will be perfect.

When Dulsissia tells him, Corin is incredibly excited to become a big brother. Paz declares he’s mighty pleased their clan is growing, sounding like the adult he now looks like despite still not having enough years on his back to deserve that title in Dulsissia’s eyes, and the other Mandalorian youngsters eagerly agree with him. Davarax looks a little awkward when they start talking about how they can create a Covert of their own at the pace their clan is growing.

Half an eternity later, when the evening comes where she feels the first barely noticeable change, Dulsissia calls Davarax over and slides his hand over her stomach. She feels him shiver and he looks at her with breathless awe. She has to laugh and then kisses that look off his face.

A little over six standard weeks after that, Davarax feels the first curving before she notices herself, on a sleepy morning when he, as usual, runs his hand over her stomach.

Corin and the other boys hover near her with innocent curiosity and watch the development with bright fascination, while Raga and Zev’sonya stay a little more in the back and observe with cautious interest.

When Dulsissia really starts showing, that is the point where Davarax’ self-control starts slipping. He has tried his hardest to act normal, yet now he becomes downright clingy. Others might have gotten a bit annoyed with the man’s behaviour, but Dulsissia knows the sadness of going through this with someone who doesn’t care, who can’t even bother to be there, so she happily suffers through his tactile presence.

Dulsissia even has to hide tears one evening when he inches close, runs his hand over her stomach yet again and softly hums a Mandalorian lullaby to their restless child.

Then she gets even bigger and Dulsissia realizes she’d forgotten this part. She gets grouchy, her feet aches, her back aches, everything aches, she has to pee all the time, she can barely get up if she does the mistake of sitting down, she can’t sleep like she wants to, and Dulsissia decides the thought of delivering the child isn’t all that bad if she can just get back to normal, please!

It is all worth it when the time comes after seven hours of hard work and sweet, sweet pain killers, and Dulsissia gets to meet her daughter as she’s placed in her arms.

She is absolutely beautiful and perfect in every way and so very, very loved!

Looking up at Davarax by her side, Dulsissia is both crying and laughing at once. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Davarax, pale as a sheet, nods with a look of awe on his face.

Allowing herself another moment of holding their child, admiring her, kissing her, Dulsissia makes herself look up at Davarax again. “You want to hold her?”

To her surprise, he hesitates and looks like he’s about to take a step away. Catching himself, Davarax remains where he is and tries to remember how to speak. “I… Are you sure?”

Laughing a little, Dulsissia is far too exhausted to untangle the mystery of his mind at the moment. “Of course I’m sure. She’s your daughter too.”

“It’s just…” Davarax reaches out a cautious hand only to withdraw it before he can actually touch the wailing baby. “I don’t know how. I mean, I don’t want to hurt her. I-I’ve never held a baby before. She’s so tiny, Dulcy.”

“She’s tougher than you think.” Dulsissia replies, then turns a little to make it easier for him to pick up the baby. “Support her head, careful with the neck, like that, yeah… Perfect.” She leans back, exhausted and strangely enough a bit hungry, but for the time being she is satisfied to just take in the sight of her husband and their child connecting.

“Hello, ik’aad.” Davarax looks nervous, awkward and absolutely devastated by the intense adoration he feels for the still screaming bundle in his arms. The baby really do look tiny in his embrace, fragile even, but that doesn’t prevent her from aimlessly raising her tiny fist in what looks to be a threat.

Mandokarla from the birth.

Dulsissia sees how tears well up in Davarax’ eyes and he leans down to place a feather-light kiss on the baby’s head.

Corin is staring wide-eyed at the baby and eagerly reaches out when his mother eases her over into his arms.

“Say hello to your new sister.” Dulsissia says in a quiet voice, hoping not to wake the sleeping baby.

Din hovers over Corin’s right shoulder and reaches out to ever so gently run his fingers over the dark tufts of hair on her head. “She’s cute.”

“So tiny…” Paz observes, hovering over Corin’s left shoulder, sounding a bit worried.

“She’ll get bigger, idiot.” Barthor mutters, tilting his helmet as he studies the baby too.

“Are… are you okay?” Raga asks Dulsissia while the boys block the view to the new arrival.

Smiling, reaching out a hand and curling her fingers around Raga’s when she takes it, Dulsissia gives her a reassuring nod. “I’m fine, baby. Corin gave me a lot more trouble than this one.”

Corin blinks and looks up to focus on her for a moment. “I did?”

Dulsissia nods. “Yeah, you were not inclined to come out to greet the world. It took over two days to persuade you.”

“Two days?” Raga blurts out, with no small amount of horror.

“It sounds worse than it was.” Dulsissia reassures her. “Without the pain meds I’m sure it would have been a nightmare, but with them, it’s mostly just uncomfortable and boring.”

“Two days and you still decided to have another child?” Davarax asks from where he is hovering in the background.

“Well, yeah.” Dulsissia shrugs. The amount of joy her son has given her was well worth it. And without him she would never have broken free from her golden cage, so, no, she had not hesitated to do it all over again. Her daughter is already worth it too. “Zev. Baby. Come say hello. Don’t just hide over there.” She waves the Twi’lek over and fails to see everyone there stare at her with the kind of awe saved for the most impressive of Mandalorian warriors.

They call the baby Nemi.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #What If #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Teenage Corin #Fearsome Four #Mandorin AU

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jngles · 3 years

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Thoughts You Definitely All Asked For on ‘The Mandalorian’ Season 2 Finale!!

These are in chronological order for the show.

One of my biggest fears about them reintroducing Boba Fett was that by removing some of his mystery, they would make him less cool. Thank god that has not been the case. He’s still an aloof and nasty piece of work but with dimensions added.

We all know the Empire is most often a metaphor for America right? At least when it’s not being Nazi Germany? The Imperial pilot talking about destroying an entire planet (of peaceful weaponless civilians no less) to stop terrorism hits a little too close to home of the nuclear bombs the US has dropped and the endless destruction of the Middle East in the “war against terror.” And of course we frame all our wars in similar language like “our troops died to keep our country safe,” which hasn’t really been true since WWII.

I do think it’s worth noting that this is the first time SW has had someone acknowledge the human losses of the Death Star blasts. Usually it’s framed as a loss in construction time, strategical advantage, and power. The Empire proved time and time again that the lives of its soldiers were utterly expendable, which always made me question why people remained loyal outside of fear. Through this pilot’s phrasing, you can see the propaganda Imperial superiors used to twist the truth to their followers, always blaming those deaths on Rebel aggression instead of prideful Imperial neglect (I.e. not abandoning ship when there was still time) or even direct Imperial aggression like Operation Cinder where they fired on thousands of their own (discussed in S2E7.)

You can’t tell me Din wasn’t into it when Cara shot that asshole pilot. That cold faced revenge shot? 100% Mandalorian style, and also very very hot.

I appreciate that it was a pretty equal match between Boba and Koska Reeves. So much of Boba’s advantage comes from his suit, but since she also has one, it’s a battle of wits on how to use it, and they even out. This both maintains his legendary badassery and also that of highly trained Mandalorian warriors, and hopefully avoids asshole chauvinist SW fans on the internet complaining abujt “pandering to feminism” (fuck off @ all of them, especially since Mercedes Vernado who plays Reeves is a WWE champ and could kick all of your asses.)

Din point blank asked how many Death Troopers there are and Dr. Pershing never answered, and that annoys me.

Why is no one suspicious why Dr. Pershing is being so helpful and revealing so much information? He totally did not have to tell them about the Dark Troopers or any of the specifics of locations on the ship. He’s still with the empire post-fall, implying he’s a loyalist, so... wtf on his part (since no tricks come of it), and “be smarter” on the part of everyone else. Unless he’s been captive as a clone engineer all this time. But couldn’t he have made his escape back in Season 1 when Din killed everyone at that lab to get the kid back?

Bo Katan really could’ve just told them how the retrieval of the dark saber needs to work in the flight before the mission instead of being vague about “he belongs to me.”

Boba Fett’s usage of “Princess” and “don’t worry about me” are a good throwback to Han Solo and the culture they both grew up in. You can never quite tell if it’s based in misogyny or resentment for upper classes, but both of them seem to use it as a shield for begrudging respect they hold for a woman they think is brave but following a fool’s errand (the Rebellion and retaking Mandalore).

The Comms Officer (Katy O’Brian) assisting Moff Gideon will forever and always look like Ilana Glazer to me, and then I get swept up imagining what would happen if the Broad City cast accidentally got transported to Star Wars.

The launch tube sequence has some amazing cinematography.

The second I saw Boba was cut off from the pack, I really thought they were going to kill him again and make his return bittersweet. Glad they didn’t.

God this team of Bo Katan, Koska Reeves, Fennec Shand, and Cara Dune is SO BADASS. I’m just obsessed with all these characters and their various motivations to get shit done. I honestly didn’t even think about the fact it’s all women until my re-watch, showing that the writers made it feel natural, the way women deserve to have their representation done. You can bet I am SO EXCITED for my future daughter and the wealth of possibilities she’s going to have of characters to play pretend as, action figures she can relate to, Halloween costumes to wear, etc. It’s so validating that we’ve gone from only Princess Leia as a female main character to all these women + Rey, Jyn Erso, Ahsoka, etc. etc.

Can’t wait for the trap remix of the Dark Trooper activation noises. (And the transition from that to the minimalist flute theme is perfect.)

The spy movie version of the main theme music is sick.

The Dark Trooper droid faces have a lot of similarity to Darth Vader’s mask. That callback is especially apparent when the one is literally lit from the inside with fire. He was already a martyr/legend to the Imperial remnants, Kylo Ren didn’t start the trend of ignoring his redemption.

Cara’s “excuse me” right before shooting up Stormtroopers is hilarious. Literally “can’t talk rn, doing hot girl shit and murdering space Nazis.”

Finally an Imperial ship got some frickin security cameras. Truly- the amount of times people just wander down hallways they’re not supposed to be in with no one being able to find them throughout the course of Star Wars is ridiculous when you think about the degree of surveillance our real life society carries out. I also love that this means The Mandalorian characters have also seen The Mandalorian.

The storytelling does such a service to Pedro Pascal and his already heroic efforts to portray emotion through a helmet. For example: Din easily could’ve killed the one stormtrooper outside Grogu’s cell much more efficiently, but instead, to show his absolute rage, they wrote in Din choking him out with a spear.

Moff Gideon would have been the BIGGEST pain in the ass in philosophy class. “Assume I know everything” my ass. I want to hear about his backstory (he would’ve been “coming of age” at the time of the Clone Wars) mostly just to hear about him getting bullied at school.

Smart move honestly, to try to tempt Din with the Mandalorian throne, given the Mandalorian power struggles of the past. Proud of our boy for keeping his priorities straight.

So has the blood from Grogu been transferred out of the ship and back to the remnant empire already, or do they have to find a new “donor” to help with building Snoke and Palpatine’s clones? Will they continue to go after him with Luke?

Lmao Din being so annoyed by Bo Katan being stringent about the tradition of winning the Dark Saber through combat is HILARIOUS, coming from a man who up until like a day ago hadn’t shown his face to a living being in decades.

The dark troopers can punch in blast doors but NOT Din’s helmet?? That’s a wild testament to beskar. Somehow that’s the comparison that sticks out to me, more even than its resistance to lightsabers.

This show works because of the cynicism of so many characters adding contrast to the moments of heart. Cara Dune is not a “fan” the way Rey was (for the record I love Rey, don’t come at her, it’s just different). Cara doesn’t see an X-Wing and go OMG THE REBELLION I LOVE THEM. She’s been through too much to believe in the magic saviourism of the “good guys,” and is instead thinking strategically when she, the one Rebel present, brushes off the usefulness of “one X-Wing.” The only positive things she seems to feel in battle situations are moments of relief and brief satisfaction in hurting the empire, with a dark knowledge that it will never make up for the hurt they did to her.

How do you keep a cloak hood on while fighting? Both from a technical standpoint (my hats fall off without me even having to move- is he expending force energy just to keep it on and look cool lol?) and also because idk, maybe it’s just me, but peripheral vision is helpful when surrounded by killer robots on a thin bridge above oblivion. I know his first lesson was to “see” through the force, but every resource helps, right?

Now that she has the ship, I wonder if Bo Katan can reprogram any salvageable Dark Troopers to help with retaking Mandalore?

There is nothing like seeing Luke’s fighting style, with its efficient choppiness and twinge of darkness. I always wonder how much is natural and how much is influenced by his first fights with Vader (that Skywalker diva flair). I love how they’ve advanced his technique but also kept him extremely “grey” here- like to straight up COMBUST a Dark Trooper takes some violent energy lol.

How tf is Moff Gideon alive after threatening Grogu’s life twice directly? That’s a wild testament to Din’s regard for Cara.

I love how seeing Luke slice through a bunch of murder droids like butter probably was a huge point in his favor for Din actually letting Grogu go with him. Like he will only send his child to boarding preschool if he knows the teacher will be a certified killing machine.

Oh my god they finally brought in some OG Star Wars theme music for Luke to take his hood off to 😭 It felt weird seeing him fight to different music, so the emotional payoff is huge when his themes come back for the face reveal.

Whoever added the digital young Mark Hamill face NAILED those classic shining Luke eyes and the earnest eyebrow lift.

Whoever shines the glass of Baby Yoda’s lil puppet eyeballs each day deserves a raise. The light caught in those babies is devastating.

Din is shaking as he takes off his helmet. This is the most enormous show of love he could give him, and possibly the last he’ll be able to for a long time. He only just got Grogu back and is desperate for a moment of real connection before letting him go once again.

This is the first time anyone has touched Din’s face since... likely his parents as a child.

Whoever wrote this scene clearly actually has kids. Anyone who’s ever had to leave a young child even just to go out for a bit or to drop them off somewhere knows that heartbreak of seeing them look in your eyes and hold on to your leg, trying to keep you with them. Especially when they can sense your mutual separation anxiety. The one thing that starts to make them feel better is something fun like a new toy or friend who can be their guide in the new environment, and R2’s friendly introduction is exactly that (since digital Luke isn’t being particularly emotive or child friendly... I hope that’s just because he’s reaching into Grogu’s mind while also keeping an eye on the multiple people with guns trained on him, not because he’s going to be totally unfeeling raising this kid.)

I love that Grogu and R2 are immediately buddies in contrast to Episode 5 when R2 was like “fuck this guy” @ Yoda stealing food and hitting him with a walking stick lol. I would imagine Luke must be reminded of that first introduction too and entertained by this display of playfulness in a *positive* light between R2 and mini-Yoda.

I need to know if Luke and Ahsoka have met- it is KILLING ME.

Does this mean Grogu will get killed by Kylo Ren when he fucks up Luke’s academy??? I will reincarnate Ben just to kill him again if that’s the case.

How does Luke not even fully SMILE at Grogu?? An adorable little baby version of his beloved master Yoda, and you’re telling me he doesn’t have the same heart stopping gasp we all did when we first saw him?? Maybe he did when they first connected through the force. He has a bit of bemusement on his face, and also wonder in his eyes, but I want a grin of recognition and welcome, dammit.

I really wish Luke had somehow acknowledged Cara Dune. Everyone else seems to see the tear drop Rebel sign and know it means Alderaan. He could’ve been like yo I have a badass warrior sister from your planet that you should meet. Or just “thank you for your service.” (I know this actually wouldn’t have been cinematically good but my heart wants it.)

Luke didn’t tell Din his name?? Or ask for any details about the kid and his care?? I could literally never let my kid go with someone, regardless of how worthy, and not be like, “Excuse me sir who are you and where tf are you taking my tiny beloved green goblin in case I need to find him? Here is my contact info. He likes to eat frogs and eggs, and he can have macarons as a treat. He’s 50 years old and his favorite toy is still a ball. Bedtime is 8pm and he’s allergic to dairy.”

Another reason I wish Luke had identified himself would be to see the mishmash of reactions that would ensue. Cara would be like DAMN IT’S THAT GUY WHO BLEW UP THE DEATH STAR AND KILLED THE EMPEROR, ACT COOL (and she would indeed act cool). Fennec would be like ugh it’s that guy who helped kill my best paying client Jabba the Hutt and then fucked over my boss Boba, I helped save the kid for THIS? And I would LOVE to know how Bo Katan feels about him, assuming she’s heard of him, and especially if she knows he’s Anakin Skywalker’s son. That confusion is probably the reason WHY the writers didn’t have him reveal himself- they didn’t want to break the emotion of the scene.

Let‘s all be real I’m just being needy about wanting things from Luke because of what he meant to me as a kid and my resulting innate need to have more canon of him, whatever it is, whenever I can get it. Especially in this form that’s so similar to ROTJ, a movie I watched on endless repeat. Even getting this was incredible though. Who else could we trust this lil heart-stealing green bean with so fully? Yet who would be so arrogant as to try to train a baby yodling (see: Ahsoka’s wise refusal)?

R2 is reckless as hell lmao. Not that we don’t already know that, but for him to just head on in, effectively abandoning Luke’s ship (how can they know if there are more troopers or not who might blow it up?) and also putting himself in the path of the ridiculously deadly Dark Troopers is NUTS. I’m usually on his side but he absolutely deserves a scolding by C3PO for this one.

I wonder if Grogu has any memories of R2 or vice versa since they did occupy the Jedi Temple at the same time. Can Grogu understand droids? They could swap stories about mutual acquaintances.

Does Din pretty much have to go with Bo Katan now since a) he’s shown his face and may not be able to go back to the Watch, and b) because he has the darksaber and has to figure out how to get it back to her without dying?

How in the hell did Bib Fortuna (whose chins age was not kind to) go from being butler to being boss? Were all the henchmen just like, “Fuck yeah, no Hutt parents no rules, let’s do what we want!!” And then they’ve spent the last ten years living off of whatever money they could salvage from Jabba’s non-banked wealth? Why has no one challenged them for that prime real estate and loot? I would love to hear that story.

Fennec Shand says “respect sex workers” so you better fuckin’ do it.

Idk dude Bib Fortuna really was a good butler, and he seemed pretty willing to comply with whoever’s in power. Did he screw Boba over in his attempt to return from the dead and earn that killing shot somehow? Or was this to make sure there was no one left who would have a claim to loyalty? Or maybe Boba just really wanted to sit in that chair.

Does “The Book of Boba Fett” mean we’re not on Din Djarin’s story anymore? Or is it a new show? I would much prefer the latter. I want to see Din help retake Mandalore or at least get a hug.

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