Angst

May the audience have some more NeedForTouch? Specifically with Paz and Din talking over what happened? Or how Boba, Din, Paz, and Fennec are becoming a pack?

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Now, Din wasn’t oblivious, not really.

Honestly, he’d have to be nose blind to not smell Paz interest in him, curled up in Paz den and cuddled into him as he often is. Not even the filters of his helmet would have been able to remove all the scent when their out of their kute and armor and only in sleep clothes and helmets.

He just…

Well, he hadn’t had the energy to deal with it, the loss in his soul for his pup making him ache and feel listless in ways he couldn’t explain.

But the days passed, with Boba, Paz and Fennec hovering around him, providing each their own comfort and care. Sometimes, Cobb called from Mos Pelgo, having a friendly chat and promising to visit when he could. Cara had done the same with Greef voice echoing in the back but it was further away for them than for Cobb.

Apparently, after the deal with the tuskens were struck, the town was much safer as the tuskens and town’s people now worked together instead of working against each other. They had even initiated trade.

Cobb had quietly, with a sly smile, informed Din that they had managed to get a steady supply of black melons and the village had managed to filter the awful taste out of it.

Which was nice to hear, on a planet like this, any kind of fluid to hydrate was good, making it easier to swallow was a good idea though. Children might not swallow it if it tasted like it was in the source.

Shifting slightly, Din returned his mind back to Paz, feeling the others arms around his waist. They had been sharing the same bed since they arrived on Tatooine, unless Din stayed with Boba, his vode often comforting him.

Boba often made him feel small in those moments.

Not in a bad way though.

Small but protected, the same way his dad had done before in the village and his buir later on in the covert when they held him tight to their chest and stroked his back.

But most days, he stayed with Paz in his den.

Shifting slowly, Din turned around to look at the other’s helmet, flickering his eyes up and down, running his hand hesitantly up and down Paz dark brown upper arm. Then he ran his hand up to the others exposed neck, finding the others scent gland and bonding patch, fingertips a light touch. He was grateful the other had worn a low v necked shirt to bed last night.

Paz would be a good alpha.

Caring and warm, always there for their mate, be they beta, omega or even another alpha.

‘He wants me… do I want him?’ Din licked his lips then flushed as his mind opted that moment to remind him of all the times he thought of Paz after Nevarro. Okay, so that was a stupid question, even from an emotionally unstable and anxious man like Din was right now.

Could he be the kind of omega Paz wanted though…

Mandalorian omegas weren’t the same as core omeg-dank farrik.

Din wrinkled his nose, why was he even thinking about core omegas and standards?

His lips pulled into a snarl in silent disgust, both at the thought of core standards and at the idea that Paz would want anything to do with that. Paz admired warriors, mandalorian alphas wanted warriors, not pushovers that simply stayed barefoot and at home, always pregnant.

They wanted mates that fought at their side, wanted fierce mates that carried a child and protected both themselves and their child as ferociously as any alpha would. ‘That’s what Paz would want too… but I’m not that kind of omega, am I?’ Din slumped a tad.

He had given up his child so easily, despite being tasked with returning Grogu to his own kind, that still made him a bad omega.

Paz couldn’t possib- “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but stop it.” Paz sleep growling voice rolled through his vocoder, Din jerking his hand away guiltily as the arms tightened around his waist.

“I-” Din stammered a tad, squirming in the grip of the others arms.

“You smell miserable Din’ika,” Paz continued, gently tapping their heads together in a Keldable kiss. “I can make a guess what you’re thinking but believe me when I say that you’re a good omega. A good buir… I certainly think you’re good.” Paz voice eased with softness.

Swallowing thickly, Din struggled to open his mouth, find something to say.

Then he simply swallowed and sat up, Paz letting him go so he could, visor tilted to keep track of Din.

He went ramrod stiff when Din reached for his helmet, slowly pulling his helmet off. “Din…” He rasped, large hand settling on the bounty hunter’s thigh, voice conflicted and yet seemingly incapable of turning his head away.

Settling his helmet down in his lap, Din nervously looked to the alpha, stroking his helmet flattened hair out of his face, feeling the curl of it due to the length.

For a long minute, the two simply stared at each other, Din clinging to his helmet, visibly feeling Paz eyes flicker over his face despite the visor in the way.

Finally though, Paz sat up too, still staring. Then he slowly reached out and cupped Din’s cheek with a large, warm hand. “Mesh’la…” Paz whispered reverently, huffing out air when Din turned his head to kiss the others palm.

Watching nervously, Din held his breath as Paz reached up for his own helmet with his free hand, tucking those large, long fingers under the chin and pulling up.

Warm brown eyes looked back at him for the first time without a barrier, and Din knew that this, this was a moment he’d remember forever as Paz smiled at him, his face framed by tight curls along with the a goatee not unlike Cobb in the same black as Paz hair.

His nose was broad and slightly flat and his lips were large and dark to match his brown skin tone.

It suited him.

Paz was beautiful and Din let out a low noise, practically a quiet whine. “P-Paz.” He stammered again, unsure what he was asking for.

Paz however seemed to know, his eyes softening even more somehow before the alpha leaned in and pressed their foreheads together.  “Mesh’la.” He simply repeated, warm thumb stroking delicately under Din’s eye.

‘…I was right. He is a good alpha.’ Din let himself fall apart, slumping against Paz as the other held him, their helmets resting in their laps as for the first time since he gave up Grogu, Din finally started to feel warmth in his soul once more.

Mesh’la = beautiful

YoungandFresh, oh pretty please! More!?

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Scowling up at the trainer, who Boba was pretty sure was Priest and one of those damn Kyr’stad Kryze pretended to be better than despite being a part of, Boba pulled Din with him and away from the demagolka. “Don’t talk with him, he isn’t worth your air.” Boba growled faintly, smirking smugly when the shabuir turned red.

“Watch yourself, clone.” He hissed.

“Or what?” Boba sneered back, feeling Din tighten his grip on his hand. “You’d try decommissioning me? I think Buir would have something to say about that if you tried.” He mocked back, knowing he was threading a dangerous line.

His buir was very suspicious, not that Boba could blame him and he knew he owed his buir answers today.

After all, how often do impossible children just appear on Kamino after all and he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that he himself must have gone through a personality change when he was pulled back through time.

Priest snarled but didn’t raise his hand to Boba, regardless how much he clearly wanted to and the man stomped away instead.

“…Was that wise?” Din whispered, wearing Boba’s clothes, though modified to have a hood. He looked cute in the blue set.

Boba shrugged a tad and pulled his… his something closer.

In the future, they had been together, shared bed, shared the throne of Tatooine, even if Din didn’t claim it officially.

But Din and he were children now, thanks to that damn Jedi artifact that someone had tried to buy Boba of with. He knew he never should have touched the damn thing, especially not with little Grogu right there.

The artifact had seemed to melt and fade and Boba had felt a yank behind his navel in the strangest of manner, as if a hook had been placed inside of him.

The next thing he had known, he woke up on Kamino, so many years in the past that most of it was faded memories without clarity outside of the big events, panicked as he tried to find his Din and instead finding his buir in the living room.

For a few hours, he thought he had lost everything he had worked so hard to gain, even Din and yet somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it wholly when his buir was right there, warm and alive as he clung to him.

Then he found Din in one of the lesser used hallways of the main cloning hub, confused, Grogu in his small arms and his brow eyes so wide and shaken as he nervously tugged at his hood to pull it into his face.

Boba couldn’t bring himself to regret anything then as he pulled both into as tight a hug as possible.

“Most likely not. But Priest is an asshole, he doesn’t deserve the air to breath.” He stated seriously, watching Din twitch a bit, brown eyes quickly flickering to the rows and rows of mirroring faces down below them in the mess hall.

Both of them could feel the clones below watching them in turn, some more obviously than others. Slowly, Din nodded and shifted closer to Boba, clingy and uncertain in a place he had no knowledge of with his usual defenses stripped away.

The loss of his beskar was a hard hit for Din and Boba wished he could help the other but neither of them were even closer to gaining their armors just yet.

But decades of mental conditioning wasn’t stripped from either despite their bodies being deaged and their memories becoming blurry, so Din’s desire to hide was understandable.

Boba was barely ten though and Din was eight, though tall for his age as he was half a head taller than Boba. Still a skinny twig though and Boba had to repress the need to feed the other with how gangly and bony Din was. It didn’t help that Din looked like a helpless tooka as he looked around with large brown eyes and tugged at his hood to cover his face as Boba took him on a tour of the facility, to get him familiarized as Grogu continued sleep, likely a response to whatever Force bullshit had sent them back like this.

Glancing back to see Priest back finally disappear around a corner, Boba pursed his lips. The trainers were curious about Din and Grogu too, the longnecks also as they really were impossible beings that had literally appeared out of nowhere but Jango was the one that was owed answers first, especially about how two impossible children had just appeared.

It made Boba curious actually, if there were now two Din’s in the galaxy or if the Din that existed somewhere in the galaxy had been pulled to Kamino.

Either option seemed weird but with Force artifacts and the Force weirdness, you could never make quite sense of things.

Dred Priest, the demagolka, had been the first to try and get some answers, the asshole thinking he could get away with threatening Boba since buir didn’t interfere when he abused the clones, though he had stopped the damn fighting ring those years back.

But Priest knew better than to actually lay a hand on Boba, both knew if he anyone touched Boba, Jango Fett would rain holy fire down on them and their death would not be swift.

“…We should go back to the quarters, I’d rather not have any of the other trainers jump us.” Boba decided on, Din letting out a soft noise before leaning in and pecking him on the cheek.

The affection was welcome and reassuring honestly, despite them being children and Boba squeezed the other hand, leading the other back the way they had come to bring him back.

Only to turn a corner and almost walk smack dab into Alpha-17, the clone staring down at Boba with his arms crossed over his chest, a squad of his own behind him. “Bob’ika.” He greeted coolly, eyes flickering to Din with en edge of curiosity and fascination for a child so different from them in features.

As a child, Boba had always been slightly scared of the Alpha class.

They had been bigger than his buir and none of them had seemed to harbor any warm feelings for Boba.

It was only later Boba realized that it was simply disinterest and the other coming of as looming in his head due to their sizes.

But Boba wasn’t just a little boy anymore and when Din ducked down and clung to his hand anxiously, Boba stepped more in front of his Din, staring up at him. “17.” He greeted back, lips pursed and eyes narrowed, the message clear.

Back off.

It took the man of guard, his brows raising in curiosity before he shifted to the side, the rest of the squad doing the same, allowing Boba to pull Din with him, Din tugging his loaned blue hood down into his face as he followed Boba.

Boba still felt the eyes in his back and he gnawed on the inside of his cheek, wondering what the kark he was doing.

And what he would do when the damn Jedi showed up.

Kark.

Demagolka = someone who commits atrocities, a real-life monster, a war criminal

Shabuir = jerk but worse

Can we see what happens next in SecretWeCarry? Do the clones ever figure out the prisoners responsible?

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Letting out a deep sigh as he eyed the report Fox had sent him, Cody rubbed at his stubbled jaw. He finally had the name of the prisoners that had jumped ‘Hardeen’ in the showers, but the only thing was…

Two of them were already dead, had been killed in a riot in the prison and could not be touched much to Cody’s consternation.

The other three involved however were still alive and still in prison, though there had been a few attempted escapes on the three’s attempt, enough to bring them up to the high security levels to prevent them from getting out.

After what had happened to ‘Hardeen’, Fox had also transferred more guards to keep an eye on them and had isolated them from the general population.

Violent prisoners such as these couldn’t be allowed among the general population after all.

‘Five people, five people jumped and assaulted my General…’ Cody stared at the images, two humans and three aliens. ‘He would have tried to fight them but without his Force powers against an overwhelming number…’ Cody’s wanted to put his fist in their face that moment.

The three survivors were one human, one zabrak and a twi’lek and all of them had a long rep, the human actually already had rape on his record and the longer Cody stared at their mugshots, the more his stomach curled with disgust.

‘…Death is too good for them.’ His lips pulled into a snarl before he let out a deep breath, sitting back in the chair of his office. It was practically a small storage but it was okay enough to do the requisition and other paperwork a commander had to fill in for the GAR without input.

The other times he would work with Obi-Wan in his quarters, for things the other had to sign of on and such. Obi-Wan’s office wasn’t much larger but the desk was good to sit at and Obi-Wan had a water boiler to make tea in his office.

He often actually made enough hot water so Cody could have caff, having a jar of instant caff stashed with his tea. It never failed to warm Cody and he suddenly wanted to go see his General.

‘But Obi-Wan is resting and that’s how its going to stay, resting, recovering.’ Cody reminded himself sternly.

Obi-Wan was actually doing somewhat better these days, despite the loss of the fetus and the attack by the CIS. If Cody was to take a guess, the constant attention from not only the medics but also General Skywalker was doing him a galaxy of good.

Along with the troopers own brand of care.

Helix, as the CMO, had sent out a priority message for most of the higher level command to read, to arrange for someone to visit Obi-Wan for an hour every five hour throughout the day cycle and evening cycle, to keep him occupied if he needed conversation.

Always a different clone, always for different reasons.

Obi-Wan needed human interaction and he had always been happy to speak with his troopers since the get go, happy to learn what he could of the troopers unique sign language or about the things they learned, even if some of it made him sad. Or he liked to teach them the things he knew.

He knew that both Waxer and Boil visited him and got language lessons, their visits often lasting longer than the hour the medics had asked for.

No one had the heart to send them away though and when Obi-Wan showed signs of tiredness, the two would make themselves scarce with believable white lies.

Cody too visited for more than the required hour, sometimes not talking at all and simply sitting at Obi-Wan’s side, holding his hand as the two read novels from a pad each. Sometimes that was all Obi-Wan needed, human contact but not a lot of talking.

After everything Obi-Wan had gone through, he needed positive, reinforced contact.

That was why Cody often held the others hand or let Obi-Wan rest his head on his shoulder.

‘But he has to rest now, Band-aid sent out a ship wide message about him being asleep.’ Cody reminded himself, focusing back on the mugshots, narrowing his eyes faintly.

Fox had promised to keep them alive… for now.

‘Your days are numbered… just you wait. You live for now.’ Cody bared his teeth in vicious smile, knowing the prisoners days were numbered.

He’d make SURE of that.

Din’s gonna have to go through quite some healing with his stomach, the liquid diet and mash sucks to be on, when your stomach is first opened up and all that.

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Feeling the hand rubbing his back as he continued coughing up what he had tried to eat, Din wondered what in the world had gone wrong.

Initially, due to his forced stomach surgery so to speak, Din had been required to go on a liquid and semi solid diet, to try and recover and adjust his body. It had been difficult but thankfully, the chefs down in Boba’s kitchen had made interesting and properly seasoned food.

But finally, after weeks of first fluid and then semi solid, Din could finally eat proper food and Boba had quite happily put spiced poultry on the meal for tonight, with fried tubers and mandalorian spice mix sauce.

Din had been looking forward to it, had been delighted that finally he would be able to chew and swallow something substantial instead of being filled with liquids.

That he would finally get to chew on something, that he’d eat something with texture.

He had dug into the small portion, eagerly chowing down but knowing he had to pace himself… and yet…

The meat had seemed to get stuck on the halfway, it was slightly dry but Din had compensated with sauce and still, the meat seemed to get stuck on the way to his stomach and Din had ended up gagging and hacking up thick saliva to begin with and then…

He couldn’t call what he was doing throwing up, not really, not when it had never really reached his stomach.

As he hung over Boba’s toilet with Boba rubbing his back and Paz and Fennec hovering outside it, Din continued regurgitating all the food he had swallowed, what little it was, into the toilet, as if he was a child with no control.

His cheeks burned with excretion and humiliation and his stomach ached unpleasantly with a muscle spasms and yet fullness.

“Easy Din, easy. Just let it come up,” Boba murmured soothingly and Din let out a pitched whine before spitting up more of the thick saliva that had come initially. “You must have eaten to fast for your body to get with the program.” Boba continued, voice full of sympathy but thankfully no pity.

Spitting again, Din trembled as he waited for his body to force more food up but thankfully, it seemed like finally, it was done setting Din through hell and he slowly sank back on his knees to look up at Boba with an exhausted look. “…I hate this.” He rasped darkly, his voice raw from the food and saliva coming up, accepting the glass of water the other handed him to swish out his mouth.

He didn’t dare try swallowing any fluids though, not when his stomach felt so oddly full and awful. What if more food came up? Or the water?

No, Din would rather not have that again.

“I know, I’m sorry Din, I know you were looking forward to this,” Boba murmured, slowly settling his hand in Din’s hair to stroke the soft curls out of his face. “I can speak with the chefs, maybe it be easier to start with meat already stationed in sauce? Like a spiced stew?” He suggested carefully.

Din grimaced but nodded at the suggestion.

It would make it easier for Din to eat and a spiced stew wasn’t the same as semi solid or liquid, it would have texture for one, with meat chunks around. “…Could…” He swallowed thickly, looking up at Boba hopefully as the other raised a brow questioningly, the gnarled scar tissue mimicking an eyebrow. “Could you ask them to use some razzer tubers, those never fully cook and… and I’d like to be able to chew on something.” Din admitted carefully.

Amber eyes softened at that and Boba knelt down, wrapping Din in a hug that the other leaned into exhaustively. “Of course. I’ll also have Greve buy in some more of those nuts you like, get a stash of them only for you that you can munch on whenever you want. That’s some nice texture.” He stated promisingly.

Swallowing thickly, fighting tears, Din pressed closer into the other, smelling warm musk and body odor of Boba. “I don’t want to make problems…” Din hesitated, even as he rested his cheek on Boba’s shoulder, pressing his forehead into the crook of his neck as he set the glass of water down on the floor beside them.

“Saleucami almonds aren’t a problem to get, especially not for me,” Boba ran his fingers through Din’s hair, his deep voice lulling Din into a blanket of security. Boba’s voice never failed to make Din feel safe when it was pitched so low and he sniffled a tad. “And even if they were, for you, it be worth it. You know Two-Dee said you had to eat several small meals to get your stomach up to snuff and to keep your weight at a good place.” The king of Tatooine stated calmly but seriously.

To that, Din didn’t have much to say, he knew that he had to eat well to remain at his weight, to keep his muscle mass but sitting here after regurgitating the first proper meal he had in weeks… he felt rather despondent if he was honest.

The hand in his hair and Boba’s warm arm around him helped a tad though, the comfort the human touch brought.

Boba did that a lot, touched Din in a gentle and slow manner, always checking that Din was comfortable with it.

Initially, it had been hard, Din hadn’t been used to it but Boba managed to get closer, eased him into accepting and liking the affectionate touches. Maybe it was that Din had always been on his own and therefore he wasn’t used to being touched outside of violence, and therefore he didn’t associate it with anything good.

But Grogu and later on Boba, had managed to remind him how nice a comforting touch from someone you trusted could be.

The other’s hands were capable of much violence, of that Din had personally witnessed, everything from being able to crack a plastoid helmet to pieces, to snapping someones neck and yet on Din, they were always gentle.

Boba had never done anything towards Din that would make him distrust him.

He had never altered a deal they had midway, he had never raised a hand towards Din or anyone he cared for and he had never taken advantage of Din’s trust to to steal or dishonor him.

No, if there was anyone beyond Grogu who Din now could trust, it would be Boba, with Fennec quickly making her way onto the list.

Paz… was a difficult subject.

He both trusted him and yet not at the same time, their shared history making it difficult at time but… maybe, with time, he could trust Paz. Their past could not be rewritten but forgiveness and time could soften the harshest of insults and blows.

For now, Din was content to curl into Boba’s warm body, the feel of scarred skin against his own smoother one a familiar and comforting sensation with the blunt fingers scratching at his scalp and nape.

Distantpain!! This is the Obi I need in my life. And I need to see him keep being a badass Jedi calling people out and deserving of all the clone love

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Stepping into camp, Obi-Wan watched the faint dot of Slave 1 making its way into the atmosphere, calmly stroking Cotton’s head as he pursed his lips thoughtfully, the breeze ruffling his hair and the trees around the camp creaking almost ominously.

Talking with Jango had been… interesting.

Draining if Obi-Wan was honest, but hopefully his play at the galaxy’s fate would work.

The seeds were now sown and all Obi-Wan would have to do was to wait. Jango Fett was the child of farmers and the child of a Mand’alor, vengeance and rage had been sown into him by the Kyr’stad with the help of the Jedi, his farmer parents had nurtured his kindness that had almost died and Jaster Mereel had nurtured his honor and his battle prowess.

Life had tempered everything else.

All Obi-Wan would have to do now was wait for that mix to come to a conclusion now that he had watered those withered galek sprouts that would become mighty trees.

‘…Ugh, when did I become poetic?’ Obi-Wan grimaced a tad and continued moving into camp, waving as a few troopers stopped to greet him. They had obviously noticed him leaving but respected him enough to not follow him.

It was something he was grateful for if he was actually honest once in a while, having worked with too many assholes and imbeciles throughout his years.

Not all Jedi understood it when the need for secrecy was great and he certainly had no trust in Jinn or Skywalker to be secretive. Hell, if Jango Fett had been known to them, Jinn at least would flap his mouth at the rest of the council while Skywalker…

‘Its like having a damn mole in the temple, always opening his mouth to the Chancellor, as if he is required to know the internal workings of our temple.’ Obi-Wan’s lips twisted with disgust, glancing to where Skywalker and Tano were now laying in the grass, the older laughing at his padawan.

Obi-Wan froze a tad, watching as he gently patted Tano on the head, the girl grinning brightly back at him while flapping her hands playfully.

‘…Did I ever smile like that at Jinn?’ The redhead couldn’t help but wonder as Cotton chittered softly at him, rubbing her cheek to his, recognizing her human’s mood even as his face remain impassive.

He couldn’t remember being that free and happy looking around Jinn, not really.

There was always something holding him back, even as he played jokes and laughed at his master.

Always this aura of never being enough.

No, he didn’t think he had ever been that comfortable with Jinn, not like how Tano was with her master clearly. It almost made him envious.

Almost.

Turning on his heel, Obi-Wan made his way to the mess tent instead of towards his own tent.

He needed something to do and the troopers in the kitchen were always happy for a pair of extra hands, it would serve as moving meditation. And the aura of the troopers around him always served to relax Obi-Wan.

He knew that Dogma and Zuru would be informed of where he was, so no need to tell them.

They would show up, likely with a cup of tea for him and their own hands to help the kitchen. ‘And some wonder why I like the vode so much… hardworking, loyal and warm in the Force, how can I be anything but happy to see them in return, when you always know what they want from you… and won’t abuse your trust.’

Pushing the tent flap out of the way, Obi-Wan let a small smile cross his lips as Wooley from 212th called out to him in greeting, the 212th apparently on kitchen duty for the day. ‘How can I do anything but trust these men, who deserve freedom.’ He lifted his own hand in greeting and padded between rows of tables and benches, heading into the kitchen to help.

The instant the soft conversation washed over him as he accepted a knife to start peeling vegetables and cutting them, Obi-Wan felt his shoulders lower as he started relaxing. There was nowhere he would like to be than right here, surrounded by vode.

‘After the war… maybe I could go with them, wherever they go?’ Obi-Wan mused as he got to work on a rutabega, smiling as he heard Zuru and Dogma scuttle in and get delegated to their own stations around him. ‘I’d like that…’

Hear me out, FertileWar since Obi is wary about trying to find his answers while Anakin’s around, he contacts his best friend and shadow-in-training Quinlan Vos to research for him. This is something he’s never experienced before (unless the Mandalore mission happened here too? Maybe he experienced flashes of it on Mandalore but the New Mandalorians don’t trigger it) And Quin has heard whispers that he only paid attention to BECAUSE of Obi. And it’s something like a force blessed hunt for a partner and now he’s got to make a choice on what to do

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“So you basically want them to rail you against a flat surface, that’s what you’re actually saying.” Quinlan drawled, leaning away with a snigger as a bright red Obi-Wan reached out to try and cover his mouth.

“Shhhh! Not so loud you jerk.” He hissed, looking around the diner wildly.

Thankfully, no one seemed to be paying them any attention with the chatter of people and the sound of dishware being used. It also helped that both Obi-Wan and Quinlan were dressed as ordinary spacers instead of anything potentially interesting. Spacers in this diner were a dime a dozen it looked like as they floated in and out before disappearing back out with their ship into the stars.

Honestly, it was Obi-Wan’s luck that Quinlan needed a layover before he returned to the temple, the two being able to meet up and head into town.

It was some much needed privacy Obi-Wan needed to air what had been going on between him and the troopers and his desperate need for information, something Quinlan could get him since he was going back to the temple.

Obi-Wan on the other hand was not, he was likely stuck out in the mid-rims for at least another two months and he would go crazy if he didn’t have any information before that. Just anything to make sense of his situation.

Obi-Wan had attractions before, hell, he had been attracted to Satine Kryze for one, a few of his classmates and even some random people throughout his missions with his master.

But never like this, not like how he felt physically and almost spiritually drawn to his troopers and they in turn seemed drawn to him equally hungry.

There was something going on and Obi-Wan didn’t know what and that troubled him enough to effect his stress levels even more than what the war simply was doing.

Picking up a few root fries from his plate and dipping them in his shakes, Quinlan face went serious. “Though, I already got a few guesses to why things are going as they are.” He admitted, chewing on his foot.

Pulling his own milkshake closer, Obi-Wan raised his brows at that. “You do?” He questioned a tad doubtfully.

“Look, I’m not saying I know,” Quinlan waved the greasy fries at him before sighing deeply. “But you’re my friend, you have been since we were Initiates and I paid attention when there came any rumors regarding you.” He stated seriously.

Pausing, Obi-Wan set his milkshake down. “Rumors… about me?” He questioned, eyes narrowed in concern.

Glancing around the diner, Quinaln pursed his lips then leaned in, the windows glare glittering on his brown skin. “Look, be very careful about who you tell that you’re from Stewjon, okay?” He whispered. “The rumors might be true and if they are, then being from Stewjon makes you a target for full blooded mandalorians. I heard that there’s a rise of Death Watch in their sector and if they find you…” He grimaced.

Frowning heavily, Obi-Wan blinked. “…You think that’s why I react to them? Because they’re of Jango Fett’s blood?” He whispered.

Quinlan nodded slowly before sitting back, huffing slightly. “Look, I’ll look into it when I get back home, but based on the rumors I heard, apparently it was common for mandalorians to go to Stewjon and hunt themselves a ‘prize’.” He made quotation marks with his fingers at the mention of prize, giving Obi-Wan a meaningful look.

It sent a chill down Obi-Wan’s back, the phrasing not lost on him. “…Why?” He couldn’t help but whisper, feeling tense and uncomfortable.

Swirling his straw in the half drunk milkshake, Quinlan let out a deep breath then shrugged. “Look, I’m not sure this is true, I’ll do the research when I get home but… supposedly it had to do with fertility and the fact that Stewjon had equal warrior spirits to those from Mandalore. But I’m not certain,” Quinlan reminded him. “I’ll figure it out when I get home, alright, send you a message. In the meantime, you need to be careful Obi-Wan.” The shadow operative stated seriously.

Frowning, Obi-Wan nodded, looking down at his half eaten plate of fries and burger, he really didn’t feel all that hungry anymore and the idea that the only reason Cody and the others were looking at him like that was because of genetic was… discouraging.

‘No, no, I’m a Jedi, I can’t… damn it,’ Obi-Wan bit his lip brutally, bowing his head under Quinlan’s watchful eyes as he fought against tears. ‘Damn it all to Sithhells.’

Authorsight. Oh no!! Moddy got hurt! I hope she gets better. And I hope Anakin gets his answers, especially since hes now going to have about 50 more.

Posted on av swmoddy

Adjusting her oxygen mask after eating, Moddy settled back in the bed and looked at Anakin with her off colored eyes, thoughtful and quiet as the padawan squirmed. “…You got questions kiddo?” She tilted her head.

She clearly knew why he had come, though Anakin had insisted she’d eat before he’d badger her. Food was important and the healer said that she had to have food with her medication after all.

Tugging lightly at the hem of his tunic, Anakin licked at his lips. “Sort of… I mean, your powers… where is mom?” He quietly asked.

Moddy hummed then her off colored, blind eye flashed with light.

Just for a second.

But enough that she grunted and enough for the Force to flash, breathing slightly heavier.

Force, what kind of mission had she gone through?

Or was it her chronic disabilities that Obi-Wan had hinted at. Knight Moddy supposedly had a few, both physical and mental ones.

She reached up and rubbed at her eye, breathing out heavily. “Currently on a ship to Naboo apparently, completely safe. She’s working for the captain for the trip to it. Something about child care?” She squinted at Anakin with her good eye.

Fiddling even more with the hem at that, Anakin shrugged a tad awkwardly, suddenly aware of how long ago it was that he saw his mother last. “She… she’s always been good with kids.”

Was she still?

Did Anakin know his mother still?

He still loved her, that much he knew but did he know her?

‘…I’ve forgotten how she smelled… the sound of her voice…’ A part of him told himself that he’d know the sound of her voice and her face the moment he saw it. But a smaller part, quiet and almost cynic, pointed out the years of distance.

Would Anakin really recognize his own mother?

“…Just because you’re not at her side, doesn’t mean you love her less or she loves you less.” Knight Moddy’s voice broke through his thoughts and Anakin’s head jerked up, the boy realizing his chin had been dipping.

He stared at her, eyes wide.

“You’re projecting,” She stated calmly, shifting carefully on the bed and then grunting in pain. “I still love my parents, despite them giving me over to the Jedi… no, that’s not quite right, I love them because they gave me over, is more like.” She stated a tad thoughtfully, breathing out into the mask.

“…How… how does that work?” Anakin swallowed thickly, frowning at the knight.

What did a Jedi, given over in young age, know about loving parents anyhow?

But considering all the help she had given him, Anakin didn’t call her out on that, simply waited.

Moddy stared at him for a long few moments, her look almost pitying but not quite. Anakin knew what pity was and it wasn’t what Moddy was looking at him with. “…My home planet is nice, beautiful even. But its also very diverse, the humans there…” She looked away, staring at a tiny crack in the wall. “…Some places, worship Force sensitive… but other places would burn them at the stake, be they young or old,” She glanced back at him. “My planet is a bit of both actually. My parents knew there was no way to hide my abilities, even before training, then there were the occasional slavers or bounty hunters… Force sensitive sell for a high amount you know.” She smiled a tad wryly.

Anakin knew the latter of course, it was one of the reason his mother made sure he kept his skills quiet. Made him swear not to do ‘special’ things in front of anyone.

If Watto had seen it… or worse, Gardulla, then Anakin might not have stayed with his mother for as long as he did. So that part he did understand, but the former…

He stared at the other Jedi in no small amount of horror. The idea of family burning you for being able to touch the Force a terrifying thought.

Moddy smiled sadly. “My grandfather on my dad’s side was one of them… had he seen what I could do, learned I was Force sensitive…” She shook her head. “There were Force societies on Norgferar but he was my grandfather, if he had asked to see me…” Moddy rested her hands over her stomach. “…So yes, I love them, for giving me up, for prioritizing my life instead of their own happiness, for being selfless enough to see that my life continued at the cost of their happiness.” She explained quietly, purple and blond hair falling a bit into her face.

As Anakin let that thought echo a bit, Moddy brushed it out of her face.

“Seid, or ‘magic’ users, have always been controversial on my planet. Some places loved them, others hated them,” She continued. “It didn’t change when science arose and explained what the Force was, that it was not quite magic. It just transferred.” The knight shrugged.

Anakin swallowed thickly. “…Your ability, how does it work?” He whispered, his heart heavy. He would have a lot of things to think about come nightfall and talk with Obi-Wan about.

Humming slightly, head tilted, Moddy tapped at the mask covering her nose and mouth. “Well, think of it like this. I open a book, and it has the life of a person inside it. But the book is inside of my mind,” She tapped under her blind, scarred eye. “And only I can see it. While I see it, I can change the things I see of the future and the present, but those changes can have a ripple effect.” She yawned a tad.

‘I bet wrap this up, she’s getting tired.’ Anakin licked his lips thoughtfully. “A ripple effect?” He questioned.

Sliding a tad down in the bed but not lowering the back, Moddy nodded. “Imagine it as a big ring of dominoes, all lined up. However, they aren’t lined evenly, so when you push one over, it doesn’t take the entire ring down. A ripple effect, where one change, the piece you tip, changes what dominoes fall.” She explained, quite clearly struggling to hold her eyes open.

‘Yikes, her medications must be real hard on her systems.’ Anakin shifted to his feet and bowed at the waist to indicate his respect to the woman. “Thank you for your help Knight Moddy.” He stated formally.

Clearly she realized the respect, because she gave him a surprised look before smiling. “…If you need any more answers, you know where to find me. I’ll likely be released in a few days time.” Moddy murmured softly.

Anakin nodded, smiling in return before slipping out. ‘…I should get her some flowers… or chocolate. As a thank you gift.’ He noted before making his way out.

Please, please, can we have more about the the snail are free AU? Because I’m dying for it!! ❤️❤️

Posted on av swmoddy

His master is asleep.

Its a beautiful sight honestly and Anakin can’t help but smile as he sits across for the sleeping man, the crackling of the fire along with the sounds of insects in the night the only thing disturbing the peace.

Well, disturbing was pushing it.

It was honestly a nice background noise if Anakin was asked. The night was slightly chilly, which was why they had built the fire and they were really here just to observe the peace of the planet supposedly.

It was turning out to be a nice time.

A nice climate, green fields with lakes, nothing too otherwordly around them.

Just him and his master and the friendly locals that let the two Jedi observe their worlds and make notes.

Being paired up with his master despite being knighted was something Anakin would never take for granted, to be able to watch the other sleep peacefully.

Obi-Wan had admitted, flushed and a tad shamefully, that he slept better when Anakin came with him on missions. Having another person to run the other world things he saw to be able to confirm if it was real or not, bringing Obi-Wan peace in a way he couldn’t explain.

Anakin got it though.

He slept better when Obi-Wan was with him to, though for other reasons.

‘He looks peaceful… warm and peaceful, all three of his eyes closed.’ Anakin tilted his head before shifting slowly, moving around the fire as quietly as he could.

Once close enough to the others bedroll, he reached out and gently pushed Obi-Wan’s hair out of his face, grinning when all Obi-Wan did was breath out at the touch. He could have used his tentacles of course, they were long enough to reach, but using his hands for this…

Well, it felt nicer.

Unable to resist, Anakin played with the copper hair stroking his fingers into the others red mop. ‘He has a mullet…’ He noted with some amusement.

It didn’t look too bad on Obi-Wan honestly but still, a mullet was…

Well, mullets were kind of… odd.

It wasn’t really all that flattering on Obi-Wan if Anakin was honest and there were many styles the other could pull off a lot better than this, ‘business in the front, party in the back’ situation he seemed to go with.

It was okay for a knight in their experimental days but Obi-Wan was a master, a young one for sure but still a master. Some layer of dignity was required, though Obi-Wan managed to hold onto it.

But that was everything BUT the mullet honestly.

‘I wonder how he’d look with long hair. Maybe braided?’ He paused, staring at his master, going a tad glassy eyed as he let his imagination take him away.

Preoccupied with his thoughts, Anakin almost jumped out of his skin when a warm, callused hand wrapped around his wrist. He almost punched out of sheer habit but was grateful he held it in as he looked down into Obi-Wan’s sleepy eyes.

The other was somewhat awake, his hand wrapped around Anakin’s wrist. “Ah, master…” He stammered.

Obi-Wan just gave a soft, sleepy smile and tugged lightly on the blond’s wrist. “Come on… no need for a watch. Sleep.” He whispered, raising his blankets invitingly.

How could Anakin resist such an invitation?

Summoning his own bedding, Anakin slipped himself in under Obi-Wan’s blanket, pressing himself to the other’s warm chest. It felt so nice.

Obi-Wan’s warm arm came down around him with the blanket, the fire heating his back. He could hear Obi-Wan’s steady heartbeat at the same time, a beautiful music.

Mixed with the insects and the crackling of fire…

Anakin felt himself relax, wrapping his tentacles around his Obi-Wan. “Warm…”

“Mmmn… you are.” Obi-Wan sighed happily in sleepy agreement, his face pressed to Anakin’s growing curls. Warm and happy against Anakin’s own frame.

This was even more beautiful, though Anakin mourned not being able to watch Obi-Wan’s face as he slept peacefully, not a vision in sight and not a nightmare to be found.

‘Sleep my master… you deserve it,’ Anakin pulled the other in closer, holding him tightly. ‘You deserve all the rest and warmth in the world.’

I love your Sightlessbird series! There isn’t enough master!ani padawan!obi fics around! any chance for another installment??

Posted on av swmoddy

Pulling his padawan’s boots of off his feet, Anakin couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him sleeping so deeply that he didn’t even twitch. The kid had been shacking up with whatever trooper caught his fancy from the 501st for the last few days, sparring and getting into competitions to the point he almost fell asleep in his food.

And when they were busy, he went for any trooper that was of duty.

To be frank, Anakin was rather certain that Obi-Wan had charmed at least half the ‘adult’ clones and was friends with the ‘child’ clones, all of them finding common ground, with the war, being raised able to fight, with high expectations.

It was amazing almost, but Obi-Wan hadn’t been having a single nightmare or vision since he arrived on Kamino, generally too tired out for either as he extended the Force to ‘see’ or to further his skills when he was meditating or sparring with Anakin.

Seeing how Obi-Wan had been withdrawn and having nightmares prior due to the murder attempt, Anakin was almost ready to get down on his knees and kiss the ground the troopers walked on.

Almost.

But for now, he settled on carefully getting Obi-Wan out of the most restraining or uncomfortable of his clothes.

Boots, socks, belt, sash, hair tie and outer tunic, leaving the boy in his leggings and sleeveless turtleneck.

Still no twitch came, despite Anakin touching, lifting and tugging lightly to get him undressed enough to be comfortable.

That done, he settled the blankets over the boy, stroking his hair gently out of his face. “…Sleep well padawan, dream of chocolate tarts and cups of tea.” He teased gently before getting onto his feet and turning the lights off with a wave, stepping out into the apartment the longnecks had given him and Obi-Wan.

Pausing at the name he had used for the kaminoans, Anakin wryly pulled at his own curls. ‘I’ve been spending too much time with the troopers.’ He thought amusedly before grunting and quickly silencing his comms when they started chirping.

Behind him, the door still open, he could hear Obi-Wan shift slightly before settling again, Anakin quickly reaching into their bond and sending a soothing, calmness down it, pressing Obi-Wan back down into a deep sleep.

It worked and Anakin closed the door tightly, breathing out and checking who the hell was calling him.

‘…Padme.’ Anakin stared at the number then sighed deeply, rubbing at his face with his mech hand as the comms continued vibrating in his flesh hand.

Since last seeing her in the Rotunda, Padme had upped her calling and at this point, Anakin was getting real tired of the constant calls if he was honest, even as he understood why.

After all, they were married still.

He still loved her.

Things were just so… damn difficult.

Finally, Anakin let out a deep sigh and answered his comm instead of dismissing as he had the last several weeks. “…Hello Padme.” He murmured as she flickered into view, settling down on the couch as her blue shape peered back at him, wearing what was clearly Senate robes, her hair down.

She must have come from the Senate not long ago, having pulled her hair out of a do but not removed her dress.

“Hello Anakin…” She stared at him, eyes flickering over his face almost desperately.

‘She missed me.’ Anakin swallowed thickly.

He had missed her too.

But he had realized things while he was away from his wife, things he… wasn’t sure how to feel about. Things that were impacting the already falling apart marriage to the woman he loved.

Anakin wasn’t sure, but there was a heaviness in his chest as the two stared at each other, a realization he wondered if Padme already knew.

‘We never should have married that young…’

What about cute Codywan sickfic (either one sick is great)?

Posted on av swmoddy

“…My legs hurt.”

The raspy voice had Obi-Wan cracking his eyes open to blearily peer at Cody, the commander blinking slowly back at him with glazed eyes. “…Muscle aches, normal with… with the flu.” Obi-Wan rasped out.

The entire 212th, or well, two thirds of it, was down with the flu.

Most of them had bunked up together, to make it easier for those that were well to help those that were unwell. Obi-Wan and Cody had taken the chance to bunk up in the General’s tent.

Killer had come by after about half a day and rigged a heater in the room, allowing them to turn the space warm as they laid the mattresses out on the floor with blankets and pillows.

Bunking together was wonderful, especially since they had a valid reason for it that even Anakin couldn’t deny, the other Jedi having been full of puppy eyes when Obi-Wan told both him and the rest of the 501st to stay far away.

They were just too contagious and would be for a full week, it was why they had isolated themselves.

So for now, it would only be the 212th and their General, camping behind friendly lines and recovering.

It was nice to be curled up with his lover.

But they were still both miserable, despite sharing the same bed.

Sweaty and gross too.

Obi-Wan at least felt sweaty and gross, but despite it all, he pulled Cody closer to him with an arm around the others waist, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Another hour and we can take a new round of medication beloved one.” He murmured promisingly.

A small, almost amused smirk crossed Cody’s lips at that, pressing his hand to Obi-Wan’s lower back. “Betcha Helix gets here before you take yours and injects you again.” He teased in a raspy voice.

Obi-Wan just grimaced and opted not to comment.

Regardless how much he tried to convince the troopers that the Force would aid him, they all just gave him the ‘right, bullshit’ look. Or in Cody’s case, outright called him out on it with varying expressions on his face depending on the circumstances.

Like the time he rolled his eyes then groaned loudly after Obi-Wan broke his leg kicking a command droid head off.

Apparently half the 212th heard the snap of his leg over the battlefield and poor Lamb had almost thrown up at the sound in his own bucket.

There was a little tap against his forehead of another forehead meeting his and Obi-Wan let out a small noise, blinking at Cody. “Where did you go?” Cody murmured, smiling vaguely. “Your eyes got all vacant there for a second.” He explained quietly, thumb rubbing at the small of Obi-Wan’s back.

Obi-Wan snorted then shrugged. “That time I broke my leg.” He admitted as he gently groped at his beloved’s blacks.

Cody grimaced instantly, giving a full body shudder. “That was fucking horrible. Almost as bad as when Ponds fell on his head, the wet smack.” He gagged a slight before pressing in under Obi-Wan’s chin.

Humming slightly, Obi-Wan simply held the other. “Let’s just try to get some more rest… this is all awful enough as it is without rest.” He mumbled, trying to slow down his breathing.

Grunting slightly, Cody nodded into his chest. “Rest would be good.” He muttered.