I Think A Lightsaber Is A Really Telling Choice Of Weapon For The Jedi Order In Terms Of How They Practise

screenshot study 3h

Digital artwork

i don’t think we should be quick to trust anything bo-katan says about the children of the watch.

the main thing i’m suspicious of is her claim that they’re a fringe group. maybe they were in the clone wars era, but they’re clearly the dominant mandalorian faction right now. we know this because literally everyone in the show, not just din, thinks all mandalorians never take off their helmets. that perception wouldn’t be so widespread if the helmet thing were only practiced by a small group of religious zealots. i mean, this is galaxy-wide common knowledge. it’s not just din being sheltered by a cult.

clearly something changed between clone wars and the fall of the empire. i’m guessing most of the mainstream mandalorians were wiped out after the great purge, leaving the children of the watch as the largest group. one reason for that may have been a cultural shift towards the ancient way because the anonymity aspect of it gave them a definite survival advantage. however, the main reason was probably the practice of adopting foundlings.

the mainstream mandalorian culture prior to the purge seemed to view itself as a race rather than a creed. this meant that when the ethnic mandalorians were killed off, the children of the watch kept growing because they adopted outsiders into their group. the armorer alludes to this when she says that “foundlings are the future.”

this is why din getting upset about boba and bo-katan wearing beskar armor doesn’t necessarily mean he’s being sheltered by a cult, as bo-katan claims. notice that he’s okay with them keeping their armor once he knows they’re mandalorian in heritage, if not in creed. he just didn’t consider that was a possibility because if you’re mandalorian and never swore the creed, you’re probably dead.

basically: i don’t think bo-katan is as representative of mandalorians as a whole as she makes herself out to be, and i don’t think din’s tribe is as cultish as she claims.

but anyway, that’s my take. thanks for reading my ramblings. i’ve only just started clone wars so like... let me know if i’m wildly missing the mark in my ignorance.

these stripes mean something

rating: g (word count 762)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40832574

When the Mandalorian shows up in front of Cara's glossy new officer's desk, asking her to help him spring one Migs Mayfeld, traitor to democracy and accessory to murder, the first thing she thinks is: this man is not the same person who fought by my side on Sorgan. There’s something wrong with the rigid way he moves, with the tightness in his voice when he speaks.

“These stripes mean something,” she says, indicating the badge on her chest.

It’s a no, but not a hard one. More of a please don’t ask me that. She doesn’t want to choose between Mando and her last chance of going straight. (She doesn’t know if she has the strength to choose going straight.)

“They have the kid.”

Cara’s eyes narrow. Oh no, they don’t.

The whole way to Morak, Cara watches the Mandalorian out of the corner of her eye.

There used to be a tenderness to him, an awkward softness that poked out between the cracks of his armor. She saw it first on Sorgan, in the way he watched his son play with the children in the krill ponds. Heard it in the thank you's he clumsily handed the young widow like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

It's gone now.

There’s an aura of deadliness concentrated around him that wasn’t there before. It’s like he’s a blaster aimed to kill and he’s only waiting for the right moment to pull the trigger. His voice is a gaping void. Sure, Mando has always been quiet, but now… it’s like he’s catatonic. Like he only exists when he needs to for the mission.

Cara has never feared him. Not even on that fateful day on Sorgan when she looked up from her spotchka, saw a real live Mandalorian hunter, and thought for the first time in her life, I might be meeting my match. She tends to be more practical than terrified in those kinds of situations, but—

Not gonna lie, the rigid figure sitting across from her makes her a little uneasy. It’s a good thing they’re on the same side.

The old Mando called a truce and offered her soup. She’s not so sure this one would do the same.

Cara can’t believe he agreed to replace his beskar with stormtrooper armor. She can’t believe he suggested replacing his beskar with stormtrooper armor.

It’s kind of dumb, but all she can think is where did your face go? She knows, rationally, that the black T-visor and beskar zygomatic curves aren’t his real face, that helmets are removable and there’s got to be a head somewhere in there. But still. Where is his face.

“I’d say it looks good on you, but I’d be lying,” she says.

The Mandalorian looks at her.

Cara’s always been able to read the crease of a brow and the twitching of lips through a helmet’s tilt. She knows this man as well as she knows her own blaster. Knows the way he fights and the way he stands still, knows what he’s saying when he doesn’t say anything at all. They’ve had entire conversations without speaking a single word. But now—

Now, for the the first time since the day they met, she locks eyes with the Mandalorian and has no idea what’s going on inside his head.

(It’s the lack of doubt. It’s the way he faces her, head-on, like a challenge.)

It shouldn’t feel so jarring. It’s not like he’s done anything yet that Cara wouldn’t do if their places were swapped; the kid is everything to him, so there’s no justification for the strange, premonitory loneliness she feels welling up in her bones. It’s just a helmet.

(It has never been just a helmet.)

Cara will go to the other end of the galaxy and farther if her Mandalorian needs her to. It’s a silent promise she made a long time ago, sometime after a bag of credits and a second chance plunked onto the dirt by her feet. She owes everything she is now to this man, who met an outlaw and saw a former Rebel shocktrooper, who without saying a single word reminded her what it was to have a heart and a code and a people to protect. She’ll hold herself to her vow as long as she’s able, but something tells her the Mandalorian is headed somewhere she can’t follow.

These stripes on my chest mean something, she thinks. That beskar meant something. You were the one who taught me that.

I wonder if you remember.

armorer: *gives din a jetpack* when you have healed, you will begin your drills. until you know it, it will not listen to your commands

din: i understand

also din: *uses the jetpack like ten minutes later to singlehandedly blow up a spaceship while on a head injury*

so show me where my armor ends, show me where my skin begins.

- pluto

why does every sleeping at last song fit din so perfectly???

so slowly i'm losing who i've sworn to be. a promise in pencil that years have made so hard to read. i've spent my life building walls brick by brick and bruise by bruise... a birdcage religion that whispered me to sleep.

- birdcage religion

all of a sudden, you changed my mind. pulled back the curtains a little at a time.

through the static, through the ashes we were brave. through the perils of endless narrow escapes, we’re still here. we’re still here.

- we’re still here

like. does anyone else see it? i only discovered sleeping at last today and my “din djarin vibes” playlist has already doubled in size.

though your heart is far too young to realize the unimaginable light you hold inside,

i’ll give you everything i have. i’ll teach you everything i know. i promise i’ll do better. i will always hold you close, but i will learn to let you go.

- light

YES that is EXACTLY how din feels about grogu.

now i have to write fics to go along with all these...

in the past hour of working on my fic, i have:

1. deleted (1) sentence

2.

3.

4. that's it that's all i've accomplished

STAR WARS REBELS 2.06, Brothers of the Broken Horn

being a star wars fan is so funny because star wars sucks

Mando suit but make it Tron.

obi-wan 99 problems amv