Anonymous

Please can we have any Dinpaz that is not omega verse, the whole thing just squicks me out SO hard

Posted on av swmoddy

And good for you, you know what you like and since I tag my shit, you can avoid it! That’s honestly great, I do the same for my stuff.

But I’m not sure what you expected leaving a prompt like this. Did you expect me to tailor a fic for you? Did you expect me to crawl into a hole and feel shame? Or do both, crawl into a hole in shame for liking some fictional tropes while writing.

Look, you know what squicks you, avoid it and leave a proper prompt if you absolutely have to do this. Its that easy and not go ‘this squicks me out, write it another way’

Like fandom old has said for a long time, don’t like? don’t READ. That easy

Bruh you’re a mom and you’re still managing to find time to write these stories? Incredible, I barely have time to write and I don’t have kids

Posted on av swmoddy

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Wait, what!?

Did I have a baby without knowing!?

Lol no, I’m more like a PA (personal assistance) than anything. I live with my dad and brother, rent the apartment above dad basically. We have a generational house, the place used to be my grandparents when I was young.

My life is just busy due to me being the only one that takes care of household chores, dad’s an old man and on crutches, so there’s a lot of things he can’t do. So I wash, clean, laundry, grocery shop, make dinner and so on.

I generally carve out some time for me between the chronic pain stuff and all that to write.

Ps: I think if I did have a baby, I’d be working myself sick…

Din needs some cuddles. Poor lonesome Din ;A;

Posted on av swmoddy

Well, this was a situation Din had never expected.

How he had ended up in an alcove with Paz Vizla of all people, pressed up against him with only their helmets and flightsuits on, he wasn’t sure.

And he didn’t want to know as he pressed his helmet plating to the man’s shoulder, curled up in the large lap.

The damn alpha had come out of nowhere, scruffing Din when he had been about to go take a warm shower and try and dispel the uncertainty lingering in his veins with… well anything.

Hell, he had been tempted to get some spotchka, drink himself silly.

Maybe he’d be able to forget the look on the kids face then as he was lead away by the scientist.

Maybe.

His stomach curdled with unease once more at the memory and he squirmed only for Vizla’s hand to suddenly return to the back of Din’s neck, thumb once more pressing on his scent gland.

Instantly, his muscles turned soft again, Din letting out a low, garbled whine of contentment.

Since his father passed, no one had done this to him and Paz was being so respectful, his hands never going too low or trying to find skin.

No, the alpha kept his hands on fabric and kept them out of any intimate zones and while the removal of the gloves had almost gotten Din out of his skin at first, he had relaxed as Paz did something to him that no one else had in years.

Well, except that one time a bounty figured it out and had tried to take advantage of Din, but he’d driven his blade into the fuckers guts for trying, his instincts screaming at him with an unfamiliar alpha touching him.

Paz however was not an unfamiliar alpha.

For all the agitation and the almost fight, Paz was as familiar as the Armorer, a part of the pack, something that had been there since Din was rescued from the droids when his mother and father died, since his buir took him in, since he went into training.

Always steady and always there.

And safe in this moment.

Din was not a small man.

He knew he was lanky and he had muscles to match but compared to the alpha, whose lap he was sitting in, Din actually felt small.

Especially with that hand holding the back of his neck, scruffing him to release hormones and the other hand rubbing up and down Din’s back.

Through their kutes, Din could feel how warm the other was and for a wild moment, he almost wished to take his helmet off to press his cheek to the others chest.

The sensations were almost enough to put Din to sleep.

His rest had not been good, not since he gave up the child to the Imp. His instincts had been clawing and screaming at him, for giving up a child to someone that would hurt him for sure.

But in Paz lap, curled up into the alpha with the slow, gentle touches that had him tensing in the start…

It was different, his body was relaxing and his mind was filling with static.

Eyes blurry he peered at the blue cuirass resting beside them, Paz having removed all his armor to do this. He wondered how many had seen Paz out of his armor like this or at the very least, how many had been curled up into the man without the armor.

Not many Din suspected.

It felt nice to be one of the few, even if he knew that it was because he was an omega and the covet was on edge due to the revelation. No one would of course stop him from being a bounty hunter, but it was harder to let go of an omega alone into the galaxy he knew, when they were so few.

Every member, beta, alpha or omega, hurt them and they could ill afford to loose even one.

But an omega was guaranteed to carry, to give more than one youngling to the covet, loosing someone that could give more members were always worse.

Din remembered someone crudely once putting it as ‘you only need one bull among the cows for calves to be born.’ and while crude, the analog was right.

And Din…

He had wanted, lonely heats with only himself and his pathetic nest in the Razor Crest, he’d imagine sometimes even as he tried not to.

They’d let him go, as he always did, but they’d try to entice him back quicker, to help him find someone to bond to, be it platonic or romantic.

Din got it, he really did, omegas like him weren’t made for lonesomeness, not really, his mind craved the closeness of another person, someone to hold and cuddle as he forced himself forward. But the covet had needed him more.

“Are you still awake, beroya?” Paz rumbled, voice low but soft, cutting through Din’s thoughts.

Closing his eyes, Din just gave a sleepy noise, whining slightly when Paz hand on his spine paused.

There was a quiet chuckle, Paz shifting slightly against the wall as his hand went back to the steady rub.

Just for a little while, Din would let himself have what he craved, some pack contact.

And then he’d do his duty.

This was the way.

LightThroughCracks — Obi-Wan has a relapse (love all your fics!!!!)

Posted on av swmoddy

Rushing through the hall as quickly as he dared, Anakin’s eyes darted left and right, cursing Dinvaka for ruining Anakin’s comm link during sparring.

It had been an accident, the older wookie padawan had apologized again and again but that didn’t make the current situation any better.

‘I need a council master. I need Master Plo, or Depa, or Yaddle, o-or Mace!’ Anakin’s thoughts were racing, even as he tried not to catch the attention of everyone. He knew that was a mote point though, everyone clearly realized something was up.

But were keeping a distance as Anakin was clearly looking for someone.

Finally, finally, Anakin spotted a very familiar, purple cloak with gold trimmings.

Saying karking it to manners, Anakin raced forward and grasped the kel dors hand, staring up with wide eyes.

He knew that Plo was most likely leaving the temple, since he was wearing the robe, but he was the first council member Anakin had found.

At the very least, Plo would be able to get into contact with someone else if his own excursion was more important.

Plo of course turned instantly at the grip, familiar with Anakin’s behavior and always accepting of it, a greeting on his lips under his mask that died when he spotted the building panic in Anakin. He knelt down, resting his hands on the blond’s shoulders. “Anakin?” He murmured.

Tugging, Anakin nodded the way he had come. “Master Plo, thank the Force,” He gasped out, “Obi-Wan. Its Obi-Wan.” He whispered, in a faint attempt to have some privacy even as his eyes filled with moisture, trying not to start crying.

Jedi had too good of a hearing, he didn’t want everyone to know that Obi-Wan was ill again.

Unable to see Plo’s eyes with his goggles, Anakin still knew that the others eyes had lit up with understanding, the man standing quickly. “Lead the way.” He murmured seriously.

With a council master following him, no one else did and Anakin couldn’t help but breath out in relief, even as he moved as quickly as he could without running.

Thankfully, Plo’s long legs meant he easily kept up. “What happened Anakin?” Plo questioned, his claws a gentle grip on Anakin’s softer hand, his mind suspecting but hoping that he was wrong.

“Me and Obi-Wan were going to dinner but then he felt bad and… and its best if you see it yourself.” Anakin swallowed thickly, fighting his tears as he pulled the kel dor along.

It would be amusing, the tiny human pulling the tall kel dor along, if it wasn’t so serious.

Finally, after about fifteen minutes of walking quickly, Anakin ducked in to a smaller hall, less used and then into a darkened alcove Plo faintly remembered having benches in his youth.

And in the alcove, sitting on the floor, Obi-Wan was curled up against the wall, robe puddled around him as the redhead breathed shakily into his legs. H

e might have been hyperventilating at one point, Plo suspected, with how hard the other was breathing into the legs he had pulled to his chest, his face hidden into the fabric.

Yet when he heard Anakin, he lifted his face long enough for Plo to see the reddened, teary eyes.

“Oh… Oh Obi-Wan.” Plo breathed out into his mask, the hissing sound heard clearly into the alcove.

Obi-Wan flinched at the sound, curling even more up into his legs as he pressed his face into his legs, hiding away as his shame and self-loathing practically oozed off him in waves.

Pressing his hand to Anakin’s shoulder, Plo gave him the best smile he could then pressed his comm link into the Tatooian boy’s hands. “Alright, I need you to contact Healer Che. Then you need to speak with Master Windu, can you do that for me Anakin? Tell them that Obi-Wan is having an incident and that I will be bringing him to his old room.” He stated quietly.

Anakin, clearly worried, nodded, stepping back to give the two older Jedi privacy.

He knew Obi-Wan didn’t like seeing him like this and instead, sniffling slightly, Anakin focused on his own task of contacting the people Plo asked him to.

Inside the alcove, Plo knelt down slowly, settling one hand on Obi-Wan’s head, brushing past the flimsy shields of the others head.

The moment he had laid eyes on Obi-Wan, he had been rather certain that the other was having a relapse.

Now, inside Obi-Wan’s mind, he knew.

But this time, instead of leaning on the bond between himself and his padawan, Obi-Wan had fully withdrawn into himself, in an attempt to avoid harming his padawan.

Creating a backlash, his own emotions looping in the Force.

Stroking the copper tresses slowly, Plo let out a deep, crooning noise as he pressed his shields between Obi-Wan and the world, watching him slump to the wall. “Oh Obi-Wan, its alright child. It will be alright.” He murmured worriedly.

Obi-Wan let out a soft, broken noise, seemingly out of energy as he rested against the wall.

But he was tilting his head into the touch, blinking slowly up at Plo.

Trusting and open, accepting help.

“It will be alright.” Plo repeated, soft as he heard Anakin talk with Yaddle, the healers on the way.

need for touch, well fuck me. I need to know what comes after. Does anyone give Din some tlc? Or SOMETHING?

Posted on av swmoddy

It could blamed on the day, the entire week, the revelation or something else but for whatever reason, Din is distracted as he comes out of his room, sans armor except for his helmet as he steps into hallway.

Sporting simply his helmet and his suit, not even his cape, makes him look so much smaller for all his lean muscles.

His durasteel cuirass, vambrace, pauldron, cuisse and greaves left behind for some reason, maybe the other is going for a shower, maybe for once he’s letting himself be vulnerable, maybe it needs to be polished and repaired.

Paz doesn’t know.

Doesn’t really care.

It makes what he does next easier as he swipes out of the shadows and catches the smaller man, lifting Din clean off his feet as he traps the other against the wall. But he ensures his arm is between the others back and the wall, his hand cupping Din’s helmet.

He’s not here to harm him but talking with Din isn’t easy on a good day.

Djarin is not having good days lately and Paz is not here for a fight.

Its why his hand shifts the moment he has Din captured, feeling the others legs come up, likely to knock into his stomach as his hands grab onto Paz pauldrons.

But Paz hands closes around the back of the others neck before that, scruffing the other as he gripped.

His breath catches when instantly Din hands fall lax and his feet drop. Din is stupidly strong and its a bit heady to have caught him off guard and capturing him like this despite Paz not angling for a fight.

“Vizla…” Din still manages to growl, despite the scuffing, despite his body going lax and his muscles responding to the release of endorphins the scruffing does. It says something about the trust Din at least has in the pack, brings Paz some relief.

Because Paz admits now what he didn’t want to admit the other day.

He’s worried.

Worried about Djarin, about Din.

He has been for years now, even as a beta, separating from the pack isn’t easy and he knows that bounty hunting work isn’t easy on the heart or the mind.

After this, he knows that the wires of the others head has been crossed.

The fact that the other isn’t fighting him, just dangles between Paz and the wall clues him in too, Din’s toes barely scruffing the floor.

He’s not sure but this close, Din should be able to smell Paz as much as Paz can smell Din and he can’t help but wonder when the last time someone touched the other kindly. It is why Paz eases the his grip lightly, thumbing carefully over where he thinks the scent gland is.

Din lets out a low noise, the vocoder scrambling it so Paz can’t tell if its good or bad, but he continues. “Ni ceta.” He whispers quietly.

He feels more than he sees Din stiffen.

Clearly the other knows for what but not the why.

Paz can’t explain, not really, everything had just boiled over for him.

He was so tired of hiding, so tired of fearing the Empire, even the remains. And Din working with them when Paz was so worried about the other hit all the wrong spots.

Mixed in with his recent rut, Paz will admit that he took it all the wrong way and let his aggression speak where his concern should have.

But Paz has never been a subtle man, it is not his way, not the way of the Vizla.

Loud and proud, that’s the Vizla clan and yet here they are, hiding in a sewer.

But to take it out on a packmate… it was too far.

And even worse, revealing Din to the rest of the pack.

Exposing an omega, when they were so few now, was a thing of shame and had there been any aruetii around to smell him, to know, Paz would have…

Well, he’s grateful there were none.

Just as he’s grateful now as he presses a bit closer to the others neck, the smell coming in from under the helmet.

Omega, still stressed, still sour, but not hurt, the other had put bacta on it.

Good. “Ni ceta.” He simply repeated again, easing his grip slowly so he could set Din on his feet, bending his back to keep his arm between the other and the wall.

Din clung to his cuirass, wobbly footed from the scruffing but not pulling away. “…Ni lini’bar gar baatir.” He finally hissed and yet his body remained pliant, his usually graveled tone slurred.

Paz simply thumbed gently at the hidden gland. ‘Of course you do, even if you won’t admit it. If not mine then someone else, anyone. Child, parent or bondmate.’ He thought sadly. Din’s behavior made so much more sense now. Din was so used to no one worrying or caring properly that he felt wrong footed by it.

Slowly, Paz shifted his head from the others neck to gently clink their foreheads together, hearing Din’s breath hitch. “Ni ceta.” Paz repeated once more, more than willing to grovel for Din’s forgiveness, standing in the hallway with the omega hidden by his own larger bulk.

Translation:

Ni ceta = Formal apology, ‘I kneel’ literally

Ni lini’bar gar baatir = I don’t need your concern. I had to fudge this one a bit, since mando’a doesn’t have a word for ‘don’t. Linibar means need and I put in a ‘ to stimulate the other sentences that had don’t in them.

aruetii = outsider or traitor pretty much

Well that has to have gotten Boba hot and bothered, I mean, Din fighting.

Posted on av swmoddy

The King of Tatooine was frustrated.

Oh, it wasn’t obvious, Boba was dealing with the aftermath of an assassination attempt with barked orders and delegating his guards around, the remaining assassin already brought down to the dungeon for proper questioning.

But Din could tell, even with the helmet on and the rest of the armor.

Boba was frustrated.

It was in the short, barked orders, the tone of his voice, the way his glove creaked around the leash in his grasp.

Initially he didn’t get it, followed his buir’ika closely, a bit uncertain. Maybe Boba was upset with him for killing the assassins?

Did he think it made him look weak, to have his ‘slave’ killing those that would come for him. Did Boba think that Din should have just warned it so Boba could take care of it on his own?

But then it hit him, when Boba raised his hand and squeezed his hip for a moment in a proprietary touch.

Boba liked what Din had done.

He found it arousing, watching Din take care of would be killers, dressed in silk and lace, cracking a neck with his bare foot.

He had liked watching Din behave practically feral and maybe he liked it just as much when Din instantly submitted to him after. The way Din had slid his leash back into the others hand, stepped down when Boba told him to.

At the very least, Boba had liked him killing in silk and lace.

If Din’s other suspicions were right, he’d find out later but for now… he abused the knowledge he had gained.

He rubbed lightly up against Boba, brushed his fingertips where he knew the kute and armor didn’t cover, little neck touches or low on the waist. Or teasing at where the kute was, knowing the muscles would feel him rubbing.

Riling the other up even more, frustrating Boba as he was busy working and therefore couldn’t touch Din right now.

He was riling his buir’ika on purpose now, excitement coiling low in his stomach.

Boba always took care of him, was nice or stern depending on what Din needed.

In the beginning, he had needed both the stick and the carrot as Boba had said, a mix of punishment and reward, Din’s heart broken in so many ways.

He knew that he’d see Grogu again, but to be separated from his child, despite the updates Luke Skywalker sent to his comms…

It wasn’t the same.

His heart was bleeding without his child and he had needed Boba, needed to not think.

And Boba had given him it, in spades, first by giving Din missions on Tatooine, keeping the beroya and the hunter in Din alive and later on with his hands warm and rough and then soft and caring between it all.

The look of absolute fury on Boba’s face when Din had cauterized a thigh wound was something Din would never forget, but it was the disappointment that had hurt more. Boba had dealt with him after, once his thigh wound was properly healed.

Din would rather not be pulled over Boba’s lap again, his ass had burned and not in the pleasurable way but at least he had learned that spanking wasn’t his thing and Boba had learned that Din knew when to use his safe words.

Green, yellow and red were very useful.

The bacta on his ass afterward too, Boba’s dom drop easing out as Din cuddled in after his ass was cooling down. Both speculated that Din, due to his years in armor, was oversensitive and maybe, maybe in a few years, he could handle spanking, but that was not now.

But there were other ‘punishments’ that Din enjoyed and it was clear that Boba was getting closer and closer to snapping.

And he did when Din let his hand run along the others thigh, inching towards the inside only for his hand to be grabbed, beskar chain and leather glove pressing into the back of his hand. Before he could complain, Boba reached up his other hand and wrapped it around the back of Din’s neck.

It was heavy, restraining and Boba pressed his thumb against the side of Din’s neck, lightly cutting of the flow of blood.

It made Din slightly lightheaded. “Everyone, clear out. We’re done for the day.” Boba growled out, moving towards the dais before anyone had taken a step, stepping behind the throne and towards their room.

Boba had clearly had enough of Din being bratty.

“Bratty Princess,” He hissed softly as they entered, unhooking the beskar leash to throw it onto a chair, pushing Din further towards their large bed. “I was going to reward you, being such a beautiful little hunter, but you had to be a little brat, didn’t you.” He seethed but when his helmet came off, Din could see the amusement and excitement in the others amber eyes.

Boba had liked this too, Din acting out, being clingy and touchy, it had turned his steady buir’ika into something much darker and needier too.

“Buir’ika.” He whined, only to shut up when Boba lifted a hand.

“Undress, now.” Boba sternly ordered, his eyes flickering over the blood staining Din’s outfit.

Fair enough, blood in their bed wasn’t fun, but Din still whined and squirmed petulantly, wanting to be a problem for some reason until Boba reached out and caught his chin in a hard grip, leather glove rubbing abrasively. “Princess, you’re already getting a punishment, don’t push me into taking away your orgasm too.” He hissed, eyes narrowed as he peered up at Din.

Whelp, that got Din moving, chucking his babydoll and stockings, shivering happily when he heard Boba laugh darkly at the speed he was removing his clothes.

Standing on one foot, rolling the second stocking down, Din did not expect it when Boba suddenly pushed at his shoulder, yelping and pinwheeling as he fell back on the bed with a cry before whining loudly when Boba grabbed his leg and ripped the stocking off, throwing it over his shoulder.

Boba paused then, eyeing Din as he pressed a kiss to the younger man’s knee. “Color sweetheart.” He whispered.

“Green.” Din whimpered with need, shuddering and yelping with surprise when he got a predatory smirk before Boba bit hard at the inside of his thigh, intent to leave behind marks others would see and know.

The intent and sensation, hurting initially and then trailing off to a throb that fit with the beat of his heart had Din whimpering, grabbing at the sheets to hold onto something, anything. Manda, how he love Boba!

“Oh Princess, I’m going to mess you up.” Boba promised quietly against the reddening skin, chuckling darkly once more when all that promise got him was a loud, eager keen with Din arching his neck, legs spread with Boba holding one of them up.

It showed of his captured cock, hard and with a growing wet spot inside its confine of fabric, Din’s captured leg trembling like an eager fathier.

Willing and ready for everything Boba would do to him.