Are you still accepting prompts?
Yup, though I can’t make promises.
I’m so upset the Goat survived >:(
Saaame
Huh… its saturday. For some reason my brain thought it was monday… um well no monday updates? ^^;
“What’s happened, happened. It’s an expression of faith in the mechanics of the world. It’s not an excuse to do nothing.”
“Fate?”
“Call it what you want.”
“What do you call it?”
“Reality.”
What happens next in Sightless bird?
Leaving the gathering hall is a relief, as bewildering and interesting as it is to hear adults bicker like children, Obi-Wan would admit that he was a bit dazed at this point.
Overwhelmed and overstimulated.
All the sounds and scents, a mix of cologne and perfumes and oils that overpowered his nose that made him sneeze. Then there was the emotions spilling all over without any shields in place on most of these adults were…
These people were suppose to be among those that made decisions on how their society was suppose to work?
These people that bickered worse than children over petty things, who didn’t seem to get that they were suppose to support and care for people all over the galaxy and instead were arguing about petty things?
Honestly, who in the galaxy bickered about parking taxes!?
He and Anakin had more productive arguments, and they sometimes argued about the texture of blankets and what kind of slippers were best!
So yes, Obi-Wan is relieved as he follows his master to get away, tucked into Anakin’s side with one hand holding onto the man’s belt to relieve his own senses just a bit.
Well, until he feels that signature.
That person, unique as all people were and dear to Obi-Wan as he perks up and lets go, rushing forward. Anakin lets out a surprised, worried shout but lets Obi-Wan rush forward, dodging under aids.
“Fox!” Obi-Wan cried with delight, the glow of the man turning towards him, brightening up like a bonfire before the man is reaching out, catching Obi-Wan with little difficulty.
He’s equally easily lifted up into the air, happily reaching out and tucking his legs around Fox chest, holding on as he delights in having his Fox again in reach with vambrace covered arms beneath his ass supporting. He loved Fox, Fox was one of the best people he knew.
“Thorn, get my helmet off.” Fox growled and Obi-Wan would have greeted Thorn, he liked Thorn but he was occupied in basking in the affectionate care of his big brother as Fox dropped his bare head forward, pressing it to Obi-Wan’s.
The affection wraps around him, warm and familiar like an old blanket, echoing through Obi-Wan from the skin to skin touch and like this, so close, Obi-Wan can see Fox.
Or well, what he thinks is Fox face.
He done this with others, fingertips can only give him so much and while there is no color, its still Fox face.
“Hi Fox.” He greeted quietly, arms wrapped around the commander’s neck to hold on with quiet glee.
“Hey there verd’ika.” Fox greeted in turn, voice low and warm as he held tightly onto Obi-Wan, his breath smelling of caff as it washed over Obi-Wan’s face. In the Force, Fox emotions were a convoluted mess but sticking out almost like a sore thumb was the man’s relief with the affection.
Obi-Wan knew that Fox didn’t like he was out in active battlefields, knew that he didn’t want Obi-Wan out in the war but that the other wouldn’t say as much. That he wanted Obi-Wan to spread his own wings so to speak.
And from Fox, those emotions didn’t hurt.
Fox didn’t think of him as ‘less’ because his eyes didn’t work.
Fox was simply worried because he cared.
It had nothing to do with Obi-Wan being supposedly less capable than any other youngling.
Fox has never made Obi-Wan feel less, only loved by someone who genuinely cared. Just like creche master Dolan and Vanda, just like master Yoda and Master Windu.
Just like Anakin and Qui-Gon.
A warm, protective hand rests on his back and Obi-Wan reluctantly pulls away enough to tilt his head in Anakin’s direction, beaming happily. “Panakin!” He clung to Fox still. “Can I stay with ori vod Fox?” He questioned hopefully, feeling Fox arms tighten on his legs.
Anakin let out a deep, considering hum, rubbing lightly at his spine. “Well, as long as Commander Fox feeds you and brings you to the temple before eight, I don’t see an issue.” His master stated lightly.
The arms on his legs eased the grip slightly, Obi-Wan feeling himself dip slightly. “Of course General, we’ll feed him properly.” Fox promised.
Obi-Wan just grinned, feeling Anakin tug on his braid with the Force.
He got to spend time with Fox! “Shooting range!” He cried out, hands in the air, Thorn laughing in his helmet as Fox snorted loudly.
y got any plans for pazdin?
The potential for a fight always gets Mandalorian’s geared up.
Everyone of them tense, hard wired for the fight, witnessing or taking sides even with the Armorer defusing the situation as Din pulls his blade away, his moves smooth.
The taller alpha gave one last snarl before doing the same.
But then Paz Vizla froze, visor focused on Djarin as he remained sitting at the Armorer’s table.
The knife had nicked the skin of the smaller man in the almost fight.
A thin roll of blood was on Vizla’s knife, rolling lightly over the metal in the dim light, more likely hidden beneath their beroya helmet and kute.
But that wasn’t what had frozen Vizla, a knife wound was to be expected with where he put the blade, no, it is the scent reaching slowly but steadily through the compound had reached him first.
Inside his armor and his kute, Djarin had been as good as scentless, most likely coupled with scent blockers their hunter had collected when out of the Covert. A good thing when one was a bounty hunter, those who realized approved of the decision, though no one in the covert had, though others outside it had.
Greef Karga was very careful with which bounties he gave one of his best and if he was honest, favorite bounty hunters.
Those who didn’t made assumption about Djarin.
Beta.
But with the release of blood came the release of scent, barely caught through the filters of their helmets but there.
Omega.
Not just any kind of omega either.
No, a highly fertile one as strong as the scent was even through helmet filters, tinged with distress, uncertainty present in their scent and sharp, sour, hurt.
This was the last thing that had been expected, Mandalorian’s weren’t stupid about designations but having their sole beroya turn out to be an omega…
It rattled bones when they were so few already.
Anything could happen out there. And omegas thrived on contact, it was why most of the omegas of the tribe made more than one bond, to continue on the human contact they needed.
Hell, even the Armorer, solitary by nature of her personality and her role as a leader, had two bonded mates even if she had no children, not even foundlings.
Others had bonded family packs, siblings or parents and not just mates, giving them the contact they needed.
Djarin had been the sole beroya of the clan since his father died, always going, always leaving and not bonding to anyone in that manner.
Had been alone on the Razor Crest since, with no one to hold, no one to touch, no one to look after them when their heat hit.
He simply settled into the pack every time he returned, part of it but not bonded to anyone closely.
“A surprise this is,” The Armorer finally said, resting her hands on the table, quite clearly staring though what she was thinking, no one knew. But there was a question in that voice. “You… presented late.” It wasn’t a question now.
The beroya still nodded in answer, his own hands settled on the table too, away from his weapons. “Buir let me choose, said I should tell whenever I was ready. Then he died.” Djarin’s dark T-visors stares straight at the Armorer. “The Covert needed me.”
That answered everything and yet nothing.
A late presenting, after he got into his armor.
Potential genetic, stress from his life or just a random quirk of Djarin’s, waiting until he was far past swearing the resol’nare, waiting until he was stuck in his armor and away from the Covert with only his buir around.
A buir that took in him, gave him his name, who respected his son enough to let him decide.
A buir, who had been killed on their hunt.
A young but capable beroya, their only one, well aware that he was their only beroya after the Purge and the death of his father, their means to many credits and information, though others went up for shorter trips than Djarin himself.
A new one would take longer to train, maybe longer than they really could afford, their foundlings needing what Djarin could provide via credits, which bought them food, medicine, comforts and all the things a foundling would need.
And so Djarin said nothing and simply made due with what he had.
Who knew how many wires that had crossed in the omegas brain, starved for touch, starved for bonds and starved for contact.
And too late to do anything about right now as Din simply left the beskar to the Armorer and went to find his space, deftly avoiding anyone as he covered the bloodied cut on his neck with a gloved hand.
The Masterlist, go here to find stories
So I know some people miss out on the link, so here’s a post devoted ONLY to the masterlist
are all of your fics on ao3?
Not all of them, no. All of them are collected on the masterlist though, which I provide links with at least three or four times a month.
“In my book, experience outranks everything.”
Oh, DangerousGalaxy is running into a HUGE tipping point, I can just feel it! The Troopers are going to be UNBELIEVABLY pissed and protective over their Generals and Commanders! And just the fact that Anakin sniffed out Palpetine’s bad intentions because of the preventative classes they take in this AU was just GENIUS! I can’t wait to see what happens next!
Skywalker has gone to bed.
After explaining what he could, after all, history and law isn’t his strong suit, Skywalker returned to Obi-Wan, the two Jedi sharing a room. The blond had awkwardly explained that he didn’t like leaving the older Jedi alone after occasions like this, even if they had been interrupted.
It brought up bad memories, for both.
And neither Cody nor Rex had missed the man’s reaction of heading to an office.
That left Rex and Cody, the blond having dug through the entire mansion before finding alcohol.
Expensive shit even.
Whoever this mansion belonged to had taste, even if Cody only knew that because Obi-Wan was happy to share his preferred alcohol with his commander during late brain storming sessions.
Rex had poured two full glasses of the whiskey he had found, neither in the mood to pretend that they were just drinking to enjoy.
How could they, after what they had learned?
With what they had learned, things slotted into place, the way some Jedi dressed and covered themselves up. The way others bore their skin openly, as if begging to be looked at.
Cody remembered reading about sexual assault survivors.
How different they could cope.
Some becoming promiscuous and others hiding themselves.
How some reverted to hurting others again and for a horrible moment, Cody’s mind flashed to Krell.
Had that been a reaction born out of feeling powerless?
It wouldn’t make the incident okay in the slightest. Vode had died that day, and if it hadn’t been for Skywalker getting a bad feeling and returning early, more would have.
But it would give even more context, context he sure as shit wasn’t about to tell others about. Rex and the rest didn’t need to think about that.
And powerless…
The book had talked about how survivors would seek other means to control over their bodies. From self harm to food intake.
It was something to be on guard for, as sick as Cody felt, he would have to bring it up with the other commanders and captains. The others needed to know.
Hell, the entire GAR needed to kno-
“Do you think Fox knows?” Rex whisper snapped Cody out of his own head, his eyes finding familiar amber ones. Rex had sat himself against the desk where Anakin had been earlier, hand clenched on the glass of whiskey.
The question made his brain halt.
Did Fox know that their Jedi were being abused?
And not told them?
It seemed…
No, no that was an unjust assumption.
Fox was many things and his distance from the war along with the rest of the CG could mean that the rest of the troopers didn’t always appreciate them. But Fox would never stand for such sexual assault.
Because that was what it all boiled down to.
The Jedi were being sexually abused, even if they didn’t see it that way but as duty.
So he shook his head. “No. We’ll talk with him, see what he thinks and what he’s seen, because he will have seen something. But I will bet you that he doesn’t know what’s going on behind closed doors.” Cody whispered roughly.
Rex’s shoulder slumped and he nodded, both of them going quiet once more.
But with Rex question came the sudden thought of Amidala. Skywalker always looked happy to see her, but was that genuine.
Was she friend or foe?
Was Organa friend or foe?
The Chancellor was not a friend, at least half of the Senate was not, the galaxy was not the friend of the Jedi, that much Cody knew.
No, it wasn’t enough to abuse them, the Senate also had to throw them into the war.
It had never made sense to Cody, the concept of the Jedi having clones made, especially after he had learned from Wolffe that the Jedi that supposedly had them created was dead before the order for the clones were made.
And then there was the sheer credits the Kaminoan’s would have asked for, the Jedi didn’t have that. Or well, if they had, it would have been noticed because large transactions out of the Republic for clones…
Well you don’t just move that much credits without someone noticing, someone that had most likely been silenced about it.
Now this.
“…I’m going to burn down the Senate.” He stated quietly, lifting the whiskey to drink. He could feel Rex staring at him as Cody swallowed the burning liquid down, could feel the weight of the gaze.
When his glass was lowered, he meet Rex gaze again, the two vode staring at each other before a vicious smile crossed Rex face when he realized that Cody was serious. “Good. I’ll help.” Rex lifted his glass in a salute and then drained it in one go.
One brother talked into it.
Now for the rest.
Frankly, he’d have to get Sinker or Boost to sit on Wolffe when they informed him, else he’d go ripping apart the Senate on his own for their buir.
SWpromptsandask 