Ohhh poor Obi-Wan! In Sightlessbird, how do Ani, Rex, and Fox handle their downed birdie? Do they go and hunt down whoever did this, do they stick by him, maybe Fox tells Ani why they call Obi ‘Birdie’?I’m so anxious to find out what happens next! You are a fantastic writer, Moddy!

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Pausing in his reading when the door opened, Anakin’s parsec tension eased as the familiar red and white armor stepped in, Fox glancing about with his helmet under his arm before the commander nodded to Anakin in greeting. “Sir.”

Nodding back, Anakin settled his pad down on the bed. “Commander, you just missed Rex… and dinner.” He chuckled quietly as he leaned back in his chair.

Fox snorted slightly, coming over to sit on Obi-Wan’s bedside on the other side from Anakin to avoid crowding.

Fox pulled off his gloves, settling them into his belt and then he gingerly picked up Obi-Wan’s IV attached hand and held it delicately between his own, stroking slowly with his fingertips as Anakin started filling him in on the healers prognosis for the day.

He and the commander had struck up a slightly… well, not odd but interesting relationship, maybe even a friendship, over the last few days as the man came to visit Obi-Wan.

Anakin would fill the commander in on how Obi-Wan was doing, they’d sit for a while and talk over Obi-Wan and to him, hoping the boy could hear them. The healers had felt it best to keep Obi-Wan in a healing coma, letting his body and the Force naturally deal with the effects the poison had on his systems.

Anakin hadn’t been too sure of that the first two days but on the third, with Obi-Wan’s face visibly less swollen and the color of his face returning to a soft pink shade instead of the grayness, he saw the wisdom of it.

Another day and they would be bringing Obi-Wan out of it and get him back on a meal plan due to his, at the moment, sensitive stomach and some slight weight loss and both Anakin, Fox and Rex were thrilled with that, the captain having hurried out to inform the rest of the 501st.

There were just too many of the men to visit the temple daily, so Rex was generally the one to come to the temple, using his comm recorder so the others could see Obi-Wan, even if it wasn’t in person. Anakin knew that all his men had some residual anxiety about losing Obi-Wan, just as they had lost Ahsoka and therefore didn’t begrudge them that comfort.

If he was honest, he had his own anxiety, especially after this poisoning attempt.

He couldn’t make sense of it.

Obi-Wan was a padawan, a young one, a minor.

He was also blind.

While the Jedi order knew he was capable and the troopers that saw him fight also learned it, the rest of the galaxy could be… iffy when it came to those of disabilities.

He had seen a few treat Obi-Wan as if he needed help walking everywhere or finding things, Obi-Wan’s frustration lining their bond along with agitation the other did his best to meditate away.

It wasn’t always easy and Anakin wasn’t much help in normal meditation but thankfully, moving meditation helped Obi-Wan too, or spending time with the troopers.

“Its good to hear that Birdie will be up soon, been missing him complaining about medical food.” The commander murmured when the conversation lulled slightly.

Tilting his head curiously, Anakin eyed the other man.

Fox caught it and raised a perfectly sculpted brow back at him, making Anakin wonder if the other plucked them to get them that shape. “Birdie. Little Bird. Even senaar, I’ve seen and heard the Coruscant Guard call Obi-Wan that before. Just… curious I guess, where the name comes from.” Anakin shrugged slightly, peering at him.

Caressing Obi-Wan’s hand slowly, Fox looked back down to Anakin’s padawan. “…The first time we meet him, he lost his vision. He was crying and screaming, in pain and yet still fighting,” He spoke slowly, figuring that if he could talk to anyone about this, it would be Obi-Wan’s master. “He looked so small, like the tubies back on Kamino.” The phantom smell of burning flesh was in Fox nose.

Swallowing thickly, Anakin glanced at the scar across Obi-Wan’s face. He had yet to ask for that story, not wanting to dredge up painful memories just yet.

Fox voice brought him back. “But… despite it all, despite being hurt, despite screaming… he didn’t let it slow him down. He lost something many people raised with vision would consider pivotal,” Fox reached out, stroking Obi-Wan’s long hair out of his face. “And instead of falling, he soared, showing aptitude and perseverance many people could only dream of, tackling his new life head on instead of hiding. It was impressive and we got to see it when he visited us once a week or commed us almost daily as he recovered… so he’s our little Bird, Birdie, our senaar. Flying high despite the circumstances of his life” Smiling slightly in fondness, Fox squeezed Obi-Wan’s small hand between his.

Peering between them, Anakin felt a small smile grow.

Well, put it that way, he could see why they had nicknamed Obi-Wan their bird.

I’ve been bingeing your writing for the past few days, and i’ve gotta say I love it! And I was wondering if you could do a bobadin or pazdin or whatever you want where din has a large scar on his face, and he takes his helmet off in front of them? Thank you!

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“Why are there plates of carbonite people here?” Din’s voice echoed back to Boba, causing him and Paz to pause their conversation to look to the silver mando, finding him behind the throne and peering at the wall.

Taking over the palace had gone smoothly, with Fennec going gun ho with a delight that was both frightening and hot and if Boba wasn’t already attracted to his two socially inept idiots, then maybe he would have considered something when the sharpshooter wasn’t feeling indebted to him.

As it was, he did have his two idiots, idiots that were just as frightening and hot as Paz had run in with a damn canon in his hands, cackling the entire time as he blasted people off their feet.

Din had gone for a more stealthy approach, quick kills while using his armor to take a few hits that shocked his enemy that the other survived.

Predators in every sense of the word, just different kinds of predators and Boba had barely needed to do any of the heavy lifting due to his trio.

While Paz and Boba had spoken about supply lines and armory, Din had started nosing around curiously, the other restless from the adrenaline that was slowly fading from his systems.

His question however had both Boba and Paz curious as the latter stood from his throne and turned to see the silver armored man.

Squinting, Boba let out a small snort of surprise as he saw what the other meant, hearing Paz let out a startled noise himself as he too saw that Din was correct.

The entire back wall was lined with plates of carbonite victims. “Well, I’ll be damned, seems Fortuna kept Jabba’s habit of keeping people as decorations.” He drawled, making his way over to Din with Paz following, his spurs echoing faintly in the as good as empty rooms.

Curiously, he wondered where Fennec had gone off to before deciding it didn’t matter as he figured she was most likely picking out where she was going to room. That or she was going through the rooms and stealing what she liked and wanted to keep.

Din tilted his head to look down at Boba when the other stopped at his side. “…You mean they’re just kept there as decorations?” Din sounded so bewildered and a tad unsettled that Boba couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching out to slide his arm around the others waist.

“Some, Jabba was a special kind of psychopath you see, he was a sore loser and he didn’t like to be rejected,” He stated wryly as he thought back to his past in this very palace as a bounty hunter. “Had a nasty habit of feeding slaves to a rancor he kept under the floor and keeping trophies.” He gestured to the wall of people.

Paz grunted, unsettled too apparently. “Macabre.” The heavy infantry man muttered .

Glancing around the throne room at the bodies still littering, Boba let out a small snort and looked up at the big shabuir.

Paz, taking the hint, glanced around too before shrugging. “We’re gonna clean it up, we just haven’t had the time yet.” He defended himself and Boba could almost imagine the pout in the others voice.

It was endearing and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he reached up and pulled on the others chestplate until Paz was leaning down.

Gently Boba tapped their foreheads together, smiling as he heard a pleased hum from the other man, his helmet simply spitting static. “Ner a’den alor’ad.” He murmured fondly.

Then he pulled back, pulling his helmet off and handing it to Paz and then a glove to tuck into his belt, reaching out to check the readings of the closest carbonite plate. “If I was to guess, Fortuna developed a habit of keeping people like this too, either because he genuinely liked it or because he thought it would scare people.” Boba mused, squinting at the readout on the carbonite screen.

Hmm, not too bad, he could release these people and they shouldn’t suffer too much effe-

There was a helmet seal hissing, freezing Boba in place as he stared at the screen and he could feel Paz freezing equally.

Both knew that Din had removed his helmet on Morak and on the imperial cruiser and both understood why.

It was for the child, the foundling, Din’s child.

For Grogu.

But there was no child here, only them and Boba’s heart was bouncing in his chest at the implications of the move. “…Can we look Din’ika?” He heard himself ask, Paz echoing the question with a soft, questioning whine himself, as if the man wanted to look but was keeping himself in check.

“…Yes. You both can.” Din’s voice was low, still graveled without the vocoder but softer at the same time, maybe even gentle despite the nervousness in it.

Turning quickly, Boba eyes first found the silver helmet in the others arms, being held tightly and then his eyes jumped up, finding the others face as he held his breath.

Din peered back at them with nervous, large brown eyes that jumped between them as his flattened hair was brushed out of his face by a gloved hand, a trimmed mustache above his top lip showing that Din took care of his face as best he could despite keeping it under the bucket.

But more notable than any of that was the large and pinkish scar crossing from the man’s right temple, cutting slightly through the eyebrow, over the nose and ending horizontally to the others mouth on the left cheek.

With his helmet and as religious as both Paz and Din had been about wearing it, that injury should have been close to impossible.

The damage it would take for Din to get it would have to be vast and by the startled noise Paz let out behind Boba, Boba knew that the scar had not been there prior to Din swearing to the creed.

Paz and Din had been raised in the same Covert, had fought in the same team and Paz would have known had the other been greatly injured or had it prior to putting on his helmet.

It meant that Din had gotten it after, while being a bounty hunter most likely Boba suspected.

He had questions.

Questions he knew Din would not answer in that moment with how nervous he was.

But that didn’t matter as he instead reached up and cupped the others cheek with a hand, gently rubbing it to feel the scratch of stubble. “Mesh’la.” He whispered reverently, smiling at the sight of a dark flush filling those cheeks with pink.

It served to darken the scar crossing from the others right temple to the left cheek even as Din smiled shyly at them, leaning into Paz hand when the other reached an ungloved, dark hand over Boba’s shoulder to cup Din’s other cheek. “Indeed.” Paz agreed quietly, his modulated voice low and warm.

Not quite ready to remove his own helmet, but happy to see Din all the same.

Translation: Shabuir = strong insult, like jerk but slightly more

Ner a’den alor’ad  = My rage captain

Mesh’la = Beautiful

In a previous chapter of dangerous galaxy, you mentioned a feminization kink. Would it be possible to see something where one of the troopers find their Jedi having to suffer that? Like Mace or Kit?

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Carefully tucking the robe back around the Jedi when it slipped down, covering him up again, Ponds heart raced as Mace flinched slightly beneath the touch and yet did nothing to try and escape from it.

His General was refusing to look at him, his eyes focused slightly too high up on the wall to be really looking at anything in particular as troopers quickly moved around the office. By the desk, Fox and Thorn were talking in hushed tones with another trooper over the cooling body of a Senator, the senator Ponds had shot only half an hour earlier.

An hour earlier, a panicked comm had come from Hawkeye, the trooper telling him that he’d seen General Windu enter the Rotunda with a Senator, the man’s face the picture of stone as the other man looked smug as he lead Mace through the halls.

It had sent the commander rushing into the Rotunda, wasting precious seconds in finding the Jedi as he traveled from the barracks and then searching through the Senate by asking uppity aides.  

Finally though, after asking a protocol droid in the hallway, he had gotten a lead on his Jedi and who he was with, Senator Dmitri.

Ponds had an excuse prepared and everything for why he was interrupting the ‘meeting’, had everything in place to cover up as he opened the office door and stepped in.

That plan had fallen to dirt as a red, choking haze had enveloped him when the situation hit him.

His General, on his knees in front of the Senator on the couch, undressed from his Jedi garment and yet not nude, the Jedi dressed up in a soft, peach pink lingerie as his head bobbed up and down, the Senator’s hand clenched on top of the bald head.

Mace’s clothes had been on the table, folded neatly, as if a mocking gesture that his normal garment were just there along with a pouch of what Ponds identified as makeup yet to be used.

Ponds had reached for his blaster before either realized that he was there, the haze of realization that this karking hut’uun had his General on his knees in sheer lace because he got off on humiliating the Jedi sending Ponds into a rage he didn’t know how to cope with outside of getting rid of the threat.

Which left them in this situation, Ponds having moved Mace away from the cooling body and him comming the guards for help. He had thrown the Jedi’s robe around him and covered him up as they waited, Mace simply thanking Ponds when the other fetched him some water.

If his complexion was lighter, Ponds would bet that the others cheeks would be darkened with a flush but as it was, the only flush was the others lips, swollen and flushed from what he had been forced to do.

Ponds didn’t regret it.

He would never regret getting rid of a threat against his Jedi.

But he did regret that he came this late, he did regret that Mace was forced to undergo what was clearly humiliating to him.

Glancing to Fox as he removed his gloves and tucked them into his belt, Ponds let out a deep, fortifying breath before reaching out slowly, carefully, grasping Mace hands with his. He held the Jedi master’s hands lightly with his, making sure the other knew he could break the hold if he wanted.

When Mace made no move to break the hold and even tilted his head slightly as if he was looking at Ponds from the corner of his eyes, Ponds started gently rubbing at the others knuckles. “…It will be alright General. We’ll make it alright.” Ponds whispered quietly, pitching his voice low as if to keep the conversation private despite knowing fully the other troopers in the room was listening.

Dark eyes flickered to his face fully, glanced away as if ashamed and then back, Mace’s hands tightening on his.

For a long minute, Mace simply sat there, staring at Ponds.

Then he shifted on the couch until he was facing his commander, leaning forward until his forehead was resting on Ponds pauldron.

His shoulders started shaking as he clung to the trooper’s hands, wet splashes hitting Ponds pauldron and slipping onto the blacks under to wetten it but no noise escaped the Jedi despite the tears being shed.

Swallowing thickly, Ponds glanced up at a distressed looking Hawkeye as he continued rubbing Mace’s hands, letting the Jedi take what little comfort he seemed willing to accept as he processed what had just happened.

Offff, as a nurse, I wouldn’t be happy if I was Russal lol. But Din did need some comfort

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Russal had not been happy about finding them both in the same bed, the medic a mix between terrified and incensed as he stared down at Boba. Hopefully the kid grew a spine soon, he would need it to be dealing with the medical needs not only of Din but also of Boba himself.

Then there was Fennec and her captains and all the enforcers that got personal treatment at the palace and didn’t have to go to the clinic in town.

Boba still didn’t regret it, Din’s fragile expression the night before haunting him as he woke the other and gently had him sit up for Russal as Boba held his good hand, the medic checking first on Din’s hand.

The medic did have good news, telling him that while Din was going to have some weakness in the fingers and that he had likely lost some some feeling in the nerves, he would be able to use his hand fully with a bit of therapy.

He had advised getting a stress ball for Din to squeeze and curl his fingers around and would forward a few hand exercises to Boba’s terminal for the two to look over and get Din started on his physical therapy.

While still swollen, Din’s eye would also make a full recovery and with enough fluids, Din’s current dehydration would also be a thing of the past, though Boba was already awake of that.

He was just thankful that beyond the fingers, there wouldn’t be permanent harm to Din, seeing the other in the cell, slumped to the wall, his face bruised and swollen with blood running down his arm…

It had terrified Boba.

A fear he long thought buried had risen sharply as his mind jumped to Geonosis, wondering if he was too late, wondering if he was going to witness someone he loved die once more and be unable to do anything.

But Din was alive, weak but alive and once more safe with Boba.

Din had thrown a fit, a very weak one at that, until Boba gave him and clicked his collar back on the other man once Russal was finished examining him and had confirmed that Din’s neck was fully healed from the blisters it had when they found him.

Russal warned them both that Din would most likely experience a mild fever from what his body had been put through, but to not worry and just remember to eat and drink once they left the medbay.

His only major warning had been if Din started to feel that his fingers were hurting, to come back the moment he noticed in case there was an infection setting in, if there had been a contaminant that Russal had not removed or seen.

Though that would be for when he left the medbay, Russal wanted the man to spend one more night and where Din stayed, Boba remained.

Russal allowed it, if only because he saw how tense Din got at the prospect of being separated from Boba, recognizing what Boba already knew.

Din was still scared and needed what was familiar and safe around him.

Which was why the medic said nothing when he saw Boba in the same bed as Din later on, Din sleeping with his head pillowed on Boba’s shoulder as the King of Tatooine went over his messages on a pad.

The door opening however cut Boba’s perusal off as he turned his head, raising his brow when he saw the Marshal standing there awkwardly, the man stepping in when Boba gestured for him.

Best not let sand into the medbay afterall.

Slowly, Cobb wandered over, sans his armor and Boba absently noted the man was built but how he had been comfortable in Boba’s armor he had no idea. The man was leaner than Boba, the armor must have surely bruised him. “What can I help you with Marshal?” Boba drawled when the man was standing at the bedside.

Rocking on his heels, Cobb sucked on his teeth, glancing between Boba and a sleeping Din, his eyes lingering on the arm settled around the slender waist of the mando. And Boba took notice that the man was trying to avoid looking at Din’s face.

Interesting.

The marshal must feel like he didn’t quite have permission and was uncomfortable being there, and yet he had forced himself to come to the medbay.

Curious, Boba raised his brow at the other man.

Finally Cobb sighed deeply. “Look, I’m not gonna pretend to understand all of this,” He made a vague gesture towards Din and Boba noted the others hazel eyes flashing to the collar. He felt himself tense but Cobb’s next words disarmed any actions he thought of taking. “But I know Din is happy like this, genuinely happy and not the fucked up kind where you just get so used to a situation that you convince yourself you’re happy,” The marshal stuck his thumbs into his belt, shifting slightly on the balls of his feet. “And… he needs that. I know he needs that after everything. So while I don’t get it, any of it, I do know that you and this, genuinely makes him happy.” Cobb eyed Boba, a small frown on his face.

Boba said nothing, simply ran his hand through Din’s hair with gentle fingers.

Really, what was he suppose to say?

I’m sorry your friend is kinky and you don’t get it?

Or explain to the other the dimension of relationships some people could have?

It was clear that to Cobb Vanth, these weren’t quite the things he understood.

But from what Boba could pierce together about the marshal being a former slave, that wasn’t too shocking.

Someone forced to kneel didn’t always understand why someone else would willingly choose to submit to another.

As long as he didn’t judge Din for it, Boba couldn’t care less. Din needed friends, someone he could talk to and while Din had made a friend in Fennec…

Well, he couldn’t just have her and sometimes the comm unit from Nevarro was spastic at best depending on the signal, so speaking to Cara wasn’t always easy.

Cobb both knowing Din as the mando and as Princess however?

Yes, that made life easier for Din, it meant that he had a friend that could not only call him but also visit him.

A friend that was willing to come in gun blazing that was actually living on Tatooine and could reach him in less than a day if pressed.

Setting his pad aside, moving carefully so not to disturb Din, Boba let out a low rumbling noise and settled his now free hand in Din’s hair. “Some people,” He stated slowly, feeling Cobb watching him as Boba looked at Din’s sleep softened face. “Need to be able to let go but can’t quite manage on their own. They feel that they need to be in constant control but that is not a way for humans to live, it makes them go taunt, like a wire, a wire that could snap.” He glanced up to see if the other got it.

Cobb was frowning, hands tightening on his belt. “So he… this is a way for Din to relax?” He spoke slowly, as if he was uncertain that was the right question.

Tilting his head, Boba hummed. “Partly. He also gets pleasure from it. Some people find pleasure in obedience and there is a difference in what is forcibly taken,” Boba stared up at Cobb, the man breaking into an ugly flush with an angry grimace and Boba looked back down to Din. “And what is willingly offered to someone you trust not to abuse the privilege.”

The medbay descended into silence as Cobb thought that over, staring at Din’s IV line. “…I don’t get it,” He shook his head, sighing before smiling wryly. “But I don’t have to. Din’s happy, that’s what matters, especially after everything that’s gone down.” He shrugged.

Humming at that, Boba stroked Din’s greasy hair, noting he was going to wash the other when they got back to their room, maybe soak in the tub for a good while together. “As long as you remain his friend, I don’t think you have to do anything else.” He purposely used a light voice.

And got a deep, knowing snort in return. “And if I didn’t, you’d deal with it. Don’t think I don’t realize that,” Cobb gave him a vicious little grin and Boba smirked back. He kinda liked the other he had to admit. “And don’t worry. Din’s friendship isn’t made with demands, judgments or caveats, as long as he’s having fun, I don’t care.” He chuckled.

Alright, Boba really liked the marshal now.

It was nice to know Din had friends on Tatooine.