Din Djarin

For youngandfresh, can we maybe see Alpha-17 interacting with Boba and/or Din. Maybe he (or someone else) realizes something’s different and starts piecing things together?

Posted on av swmoddy

Tilting his helmeted head like a curious bird, Din let out a soft noise. “You weren’t joking when you said they might recognize your face.” He stated quietly as he turned his head to his companion, gently thumbing his shoulder against Boba’s.

Hair pulled back into a stubby ponytail, Boba just hummed quietly, arms crossed over his chest as he continued observing the clones beneath them as they trained.

Pressing closer, Din slid his arm around Boba’s shoulders. “What are you thinking?” He questioned worriedly.

Since coming back to the past, Boba had become even more prone to long silences of contemplation. Before, Din always knew what that meant, it had to do with the ruling of Tatooine or the other was angry at Din for yet another reckless move that they would have to talk about so Din didn’t scare Boba again.

Now however, even looking at Boba’s face with the baby fat in his cheeks, Din wasn’t sure what he was thinking.

So he asks.

He shifts until he’s standing in front of the other in the glass hallway, cups Boba’s cheek with his own soft hand and presses their foreheads together, smiling when Boba instantly closes his eyes and hums in pleasure at the affectionate and familiar touch.

Just for a few moments, he indulges them both with the keldabe kiss, rubbing the others tanned cheek with his thumb. Just as they did in the future, just with baby fat instead of scars and no stubble to speak of.

Oh and of course no beskar.

Din misses his beskar.

“What are you thinking?” He whispered quietly, watching as Boba opened his eyes to peer into his. The visor of the cadet helmets weren’t as black as Din’s old, (or was that new?) helmet, made it easier for people to see hints of his face but at least it brought comfort.

And like this, with Boba looking at his eyes, he found he didn’t mind that it was slightly sheer compared to his beskar helmet.

Arms slowly slid around Din’s waist, holding on as Boba usually did when he was feeling upset and Din let himself be brought closer until they were chest to chest. Physical touch had always been comforting to both of them, once they learned to manage the touch starvation they both had.

Trust had come easily between the two, maybe too easily, the touch starvation had been harder.

“How close my father is to being a dar’manda. How being back here, seeing everything again, reminds me just how far he went, how much he was lost…” Boba trailed of then sighed deeply. “And how much I still love him, regardless of what he’s done.” He settled on tiredly, his young voice sounding much too weary for his young face.

Not that Din couldn’t sympathize.

Seeing all this…

Well, Boba hadn’t been shy about telling Din exactly why Kryze felt so threatened by Boba, why the other insisted that Boba was not a mandalorian.

After all, the grandson of a mand’alor was quite the contestant to the throne and for the saber, one she wouldn’t want. The foundling of a mand’alor, Jango Fett of house Mereel… yes, Boba had the claim to the throne of the glass planet.

Though it wasn’t glass, not yet, was it?

Right now, Mandalore was a thriving planet, at least inside the domes, even if it was under the pacifist rule of Duchess Kryze.

Din didn’t know quite as much about this time period of Mandalore, there had been some basic history taught, of course. But the covert had focused more on the skills of survival, of their language, their culture and of course their foundlings.

History came second hand to that, to survival, to not letting the imps get another chance at wiping them out. Boba however had tried to fill in as best he could on quiet nights when Din’s curiosity got the better of him and Boba was in the mood to explain.

Talking about his father had been a harder subject for Boba, reserved for sober days of remembrance and the little Boba had managed to pierce together of his father’s past before Kamino.

But being here, Din could see why Boba was bringing it up as he looked to the rows and rows of black haired heads, so similar to Boba and yet all so uniform.

The word ‘decommission’ had never been as chilling as when Boba had explained to him, in quiet words, exactly what that meant here on this cursed ocean planet. Foundlings, children, were the most important thing in mandalorian culture… or at least they were suppose to be and Din still couldn’t understand how damaged someone could be to… to just discard clones of themselves, children.

Not when you kept one of them, raised them well and yet let others be put down, who were just the same as the one you kept.

“…I won’t say that he hasn’t lost his way,” He started quietly, feeling Boba’s hands grip the back of his tunic. “But… what’s lost can be found again, we’ll help him. Aliit, right?” Din smiled at Boba, watching the other stare at him before amber eyes softened and Boba nuzzled in like a reticent tooka wanting cuddles.

They might have stayed like that for a while if there wasn’t for a throat suddenly being cleared. The two time travelers separated but stayed close, Boba falling into position in front of Din and Din reaching for the blade he had hidden in his new belt.

Clearly, they didn’t make an impressive view as a rather stocky clone, who reminded Din of adult Boba yet this clone seemed taller, just smirked at them with raised brows. He was familiar, not in the way all clones looked alike but Din felt like he had seen this one before.

“Alpha.” Boba greeted with narrowed, suspicious eyes, Din’s mind flashing back to the clone leading the group they had encountered after Boba taunted Priest.

“Bob’ika, Boba’s friend,” Alpha greeted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Saw you up here, came to invite you two to come spar with us if you’re interested.” He drawled, nodding his head to the left, where a singular group of troopers were sparring in another room.

Noticeably, most of them were looking up at them. Clearly waiting.

The question had Boba letting out a surprised little, huh, before he turned to Din, brows raised questionably to the other. Hesitating, Din mentally calculated the time before nodding. “The Jedi and your buir still has Grogu, he’s not to wake from a nap yet, so I don’t see why not. Training is good?” He stated.

A little snort escaped Boba at that, a fond smile that lacked those distracting scars crossing his lips as he turned back to Alpha and nodded. “Sure, but no funny business. I’ll break your bones if anything weird happens.” He drawled.

A short, barked laugh escaped Alpha and then he was of, moving down the hall with Din and Boba following along quickly.

Making sure to walk at Boba’s side, Din glanced between the two then down to the clones waiting for them. “Boba… who are they?” Din whispered quietly, leaning in to be quiet yet clearly by the way Alpha’s head jerked a bit, he still heard Din. “To you I mean, you… don’t listen to anyone else, I mean, except your buir.” He stated cautiously.

Boba raised his brow before shrugging slightly, finding Din’s hand. “They’re my batch mates. We were decanted together.” He drawled, his voice cracking slightly without an ounce of embarrassment for his hormones.

‘…Oh…’ Din turned his head back to Alpha’s back. ‘…They’re his vode. They’re the one he would have grown with if Jango hadn’t kept him.’

The difference was stark, from Alpha’s power build adult form to Boba’s much younger, smooth faced form and Din squeezed Boba’s hand.

He got a squeeze back, Boba’s eyes focused on Alpha’s back with quiet contemplation.

Aliit = Family

Buir = Dad

Bob’ika = Little Boba

SeveredStomach: I noticed that Boba was doing most of the heavy lifting at the moment.  I wanna see Paz doing something for Din, either he notices something because he’s known Din longer, or he just happens to catch on first.

Posted on av swmoddy

Eyeing the stew thoughtfully, Paz looked around the empty kitchen warily for a few seconds before reaching up hesitantly and removing his helmet to set on the counter, quickly sticking the ladle down into the stew, lifting it and pouring sauce and vegetable bits onto his tasting spoon.

He blew on it, reluctantly, knowing better than to stick the hot food into his mouth before finally tasting it, thoughtfully tasting the sauce as he put the spoon down and putting his helmet back on, his tense shoulders relaxing down as the HUD came up.

Even now, despite their covert being destroyed, being without his helmet was… discomforting to Paz and he knew Din felt the same, even if he was getting better about being exposed to Boba and Fennec.

But those two were different.

They were aliit now, allowed, Paz was just… slow. Struggling to adapt and there was no way he’d expose himself to any random asshole coming into the kitchen.

Thankfully none of the three of them blamed him, they were almost horribly understanding to Paz insecurities.

‘Then again, Din likely thinks the same about us and our treatment of him.’ Paz thought dryly, casting his mind back to when the other had fallen asleep against Boba’s knee in the karking throne room.

They had been so worried, Paz only barely managing to wait until the throne room emptied out before he picked up Din and carried him to Boba’s room. Boba still had to be the one to remove the helmet, Paz freezing up at the idea of doing it but…

Well, Din had simply been asleep as a proper check had told them, as confusing as that had been.

A bit of research, Din still sleeping, had given them the answers they needed.

It was that karking dumping thing again, apparently Paz cake had given the other dumping, causing Din to become so tired his body had shut down and he had fallen asleep this time. Fennec had outright printed out the dumping syndrome information for both Boba and Paz to keep an eye on, to know what to look for in the future.

The list wasn’t… pretty.

The list of symptoms were going to be hell on Din for sure if they didn’t regulate his intake. It also depressed Paz a bit to realize that several of the traditional recipes he had learned wouldn’t be so easy to feed Din, seeing as grease, fat and sugar could kick him into dumping syndrome.

It was actually why he was down in the kitchen, revising some of the old recipes, grateful that at least the medication Boba had gotten Din made it possible for the other to eat spices, as most mandalorian cuisine leaned heavily on hot dishes.

It meant that he wouldn’t have to cut that out of the dishes and Din would be able to eat at least partly what he was used to, even if Din generally survived on a diet of shitty rations and dehydrated stuff while on a hunt.

Still, while in the palace, Paz was determined to spoil the other.

Which meant reworking a few of the recipes from the Vizsla clan vast cookbook, a few which Paz suspected had come from other planets if he was honest, seeing as they contained ingredients sometimes only found on one planet and it was not Mandalore.

A sound echoed down the hall of the kitchen, a loud step and Paz tensed before he relaxed, glancing curiously at the door. Someone knew he was there and knew he was liable to pull a blaster on whoever showed up.

So, four possible suspect, the chef Boba hired, seeing as he already pulled a gun on her once for startling him and therefore she had started making deliberate noises in case he was there, Fennec, Boba or Din, as all three knew he was there at the moment.

Unconsciously, his lips twitched into a smile when Din stepped inside in his only his undersuit and helmet, the silver helmet looking about before the other padded over to him. “You’re making inglar?” Din questioned, pleasure in his voice.

Nodding, stirring slowly, Paz added another pinch of salt to the stew. “Yeah, figured you’d appreciate something hardy, since you’re heading out tomorrow.” Paz explained, forcing himself to not tense up when the bounty hunter leaned against his arm. The contact wasn’t unwelcome, just unexpected and he didn’t want Din to pull away.

“That’s kind of you, thank you.” Din hummed out, his vocoder crackling slightly.

He got a small snort and Paz continued stirring slowly. “Seeing how I messed you up yesterday, you deserved something hardy that wouldn’t fuck you up.” He couldn’t help but state wryly, smiling more when Din let out a soft chuckle.

“In all our defenses, we had no idea that would happen.” Din stated in a slightly cheerful tone, as if he hadn’t been upset as all hells the day before when he was informed. Not that he had stated as much but all three of them had gotten good at reading Din’s body language.

Instead of answering, Paz just curled his arm around the other in a one armed hug to his side, trying not to flush at the feeling of Din leaning into his chest. “Well, anyhow,” He cleared his throat, staring into the green tinted stew. “Your hunt tomorrow, wanted you well feed before you ran of into the desert. That’s where you’re going, right?” Tilting his head to glance at Din, Paz let his arm linger around him, seeing that Din wasn’t tense or moving away.

As he was watching him, he got to see Din nod. “Yes, Boba’s target skedaddled into the Jundland wastes, idiocy if I ever heard one. Either the tuskens are gonna get her or the heat will, if I don’t find her.” He snorted slightly.

Letting out a sharp snort of his own as he turned his faze to the pot on the stove, Paz simply nodded, enjoying the warmth of the other’s body. If there was anything Paz had come to learn, it was that Tatooine was hot as hell and that he was lucky to access as much water as he could to keep hydrated, all thanks to Boba. “Well, Boba does want the moron alive, but you know tusken signs, so if needed, you could barter with them.” He stated a tad dryly, breath hitching slightly as a low, warm chuckle came from beside him.

Honestly, if this was a year ago… he couldn’t imagine this.

But by Manda’s glass, he was happy he had it.

Aliit = Clan, family.

AFrankTalk: if Boba thought that Din was beat up then, he’s going to be very unhappy when he sees him after saving Grogu.  And need a bigger medical kit.

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Landing in the Emperial light cruiser, Boba scowled darkly to himself as he got up and made his way through Slave 1.

Karking Luke Skywalker.

Of course the only Jedi in the known galaxy had come to the cruiser and of course Boba had to get a glimpse of the whelps face. ‘At least it wasn’t karking Han Solo. Not sure I would have held back if it was that karking asshole.’ He thought grumpily at himself as he lowered the ramp, eyeing the remains of the dark troopers laying around.

Bore all the signs of a Jedi having gone ham and Boba had to force himself not to shiver at the sight even as he hoped that the sight of Slave 1 had sent a stab of ghostly fear through the blond.

The Jedi might have been wiped out when he was still young, but he could still remember them and their powers. Even now, he couldn’t help but wonder how the other clones managed to win over them, how the Empire managed to wipe out most of them in just the first few days with the power they had at their disposal.

The thought disappeared however as the elevator opened, Fennec stepping out with a hand on Djarin’s shoulder with the Marshal following behind, the moff on her shoulder and Djarin’s helmet in one hand.

If Fennec hadn’t already commed him and informed him of the child being with Skywalker, he would have been alarmed but as it was…

Boba was already alarmed at the sight of a bared face if down tilted face, Djarin’s hazy eyes still visible as he stumbled along at Fennec’s guidance. “What…” He bit in his questions, simply took Djarin from Fennec and directed Dune to the carbonite chambers as he pulled the other bounty hunter with him.

It was clear he was karked up and Boba knows his ship and equipment better than Fennec, so she would get them out of the light cruiser and away from the damn princess and her Nite owls.

Guiding Djarin to the medbay of Slave 1, Boba furiously kept himself from looking too closely at Djarin’s face.

Not until he had permission.

Djarin and his group of Watch Children were practically religious about the helmets, so why the fuck was the other exposed?

What the hell had happened on the cruiser?

Boba wasn’t even sure he wanted to know as he carefully guided the other onto the medbed, feeling the vibrations of the ship taking of off, Fennec short words over the intercom telling them she was getting them out as Boba pulled a medkit onto the bed beside the man and popped it open for use.

“Djarin, can I look at your face?” Boba growled quietly, squeezing Djarin’s thighs when there wasn’t an answer. “Djarin, you’re clearly hurt but you aren’t wearing your helmet, I swe-”

“Doesn’t matter,” Djarin’s voice was low, raspy and Boba felt his heart break at how lost it sounded. “You can look… the others… saw. I… you can look.” He repeated, voice trailing of.

‘The kark, the kark, the kark…’ Boba swallowed, closed his eyes and then looked up, meeting the hazy brown eyes of the other.

Djarin looked so very lost even as he couldn’t meet Boba’s eyes, either due to the clear concussion he had or because he wasn’t used to it.

So very lost and so very small, his face had blood on it, coating down the side of his neck and into his kute. At the sight Boba felt the air in his lungs freeze even as he was certain there would be more injuries below the beskar andkute. “…What happened?” He whispered, unsure if he meant the look or the injury.

The question had Djarin shoulders hunching, pulling up to his ears. “…I gave Grogu to the Jedi… I… accomplished my task.” Djarinslurred out.

Slowly, carefully Boba reached out to touch his neck, making a questioning noise. The touch had Din’s shoulders slumping though, leaning into it despite the pain it must have brought.

“Fought a dark trooper… it hit my head against the wall. A lot.” Djarinblinked at him before squinting slightly, as if the light was too much.

Three things became very clear to Boba in that moment.

One, Djarin was even more reckless than he had anticipated when he had taken the stormtroopers blasts head on, seeing as he had not informed anyone that he was properly injured and likely not that he had fought one of those karks of robots Boba had seen in the landing bay.

Two, the other was clearly very out of it, having given up his foundling. For all that it had been his tasks for months, it was also clear to Boba that Djarin had more than just cared for a foundling, he had loved the child.

Three, Djarin needed someone to take care of him, because right in this moment, the other was more than just slightly out of it, to the point he wouldn’t even do the basic of caretaking for himself.

This man had carried Boba’s armor out of the desert, had fought a krayt dragon for it, this man had gone to bat for his foundling and when push came to shove, when someone better equipped to train and protect him came along, had done the difficult choice to hand his child over.

So Boba would step in for now, when it was clear Djarin needed someone because this man had been the one to give him his armor back, give his father’s legacy back.

And just maybe, maybe Boba felt a connection to this man and maybe, just maybe he didn’t want to loose it before it had a chance to bloom.

Slowly, carefully, he reached out and slid his fingers through the others matted, sweat and blood slicked hair and drew the others face towards him, settling Djarin’s forehead on Boba’s shoulder.

A low, confused noise escaped Din.

“Shh… I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you heal.” Boba murmured quietly, Din’s gloved hands coming up to grasp at Boba’s breastplate, holding on as Boba slowly prodded at the back of the others head, feeling the broken and swelling skin.

It made him hiss with worry.

The amount of Force the dark troopers must have been able to exert for that to happen with a karking beskar helmet to protect the skull… kark, thank fuck Skywalker had dealt with them.

Reaching down, Boba quickly pulled out a tub of bacta. “This is going to sting and you’re going to need a water shower later Djarin, but we need to get bacta on that.” He rumbled out, feeling the other shift against him, his forehead coming into contact with Boba’s scarred neck.

“Din.” A soft, slurred whisper came to his ears and Boba paused in uncapping the tub, wondering if he had heard what he thought he heard.

Soft breathing was all he heard and swallowing Boba let out a small, questioning hum for clarification, holding his breath as he waited for Djarin to speak again.

“My name… Din Djarin. Its… its yours to use.” Din continued at the prompting, his breath washing across the scarred skin.

Swallowing thickly, Boba wondered if the other realized he had given Bobahis full name. Instead of doing him the discourtesy of questioning him, Boba set the tub down and raised his hand, cupping the back of Din’s head with his palm. “Vor entye, Din.” He whispered.

Without covert or foundling, Boba couldn’t help but wonder who was going to look out for this lost, doe eyed looking man with shockingly soft features behind the smooth metal of his helm.

The answer came to him as he stroked the others filthy hair. ‘Me. I’m the one that’s going to look after him. And woe be the one that harms him on my watch. I’ll smear them to the ground.’ Boba pressed his nose to the filthy hair, not yet daring to press a kiss to it yet needing to give him some affection before he continued taking care of the injuries of the lost one in his arms.

Vor entye = Thank you

YoungAndFresh:  Boba and Din are going to get antsy and spar, terrifying Jango, because he didn’t teach Boba half of those moves!  And impressing everyone else, because they didn’t think a child Din’s age could pull off that particular throw.  And Obi-Wan is trying to find out why the clones would turn on the jedi.

Posted on av swmoddy

The training hall was full of troopers today, more than usual, chock full of troopers and even a few of the trainers that seemed to be milling around more than working out and sparring.

But there was a very good reason for that, for one, Jango Fett was in attendance with his son, two, there was a karking Jedi and three… the two impossible children were there.

And he and Boba were sparring.

The moment that missive had hissed through the clone troopers ranks, many had made their way to the training hall in question, a few with recording equipment for those that couldn’t come see, either if they wanted to see the Jedi, the impossible kids or Boba actually fighting.

As far as any of them could remember, Boba had never sparred in public with the rest of them, Jango Fett seemingly preferring to keep his son apart from them and training in a private place.

After all, he was ‘special’ compared to them.

The one that got picked.

The one unaltered.

If there was some resentment and jealousy attached to that… well, they knew better than to voice it.

Still, looking at the two little shapes, the impossible human kid already wearing a helmet and basic cadet armor while Boba had yet to put on his helmet, no one could say they weren’t a tad excited to see what might happen.

“You ready Din’ika?” Boba questioned, cracking his knuckles easily with a grin on his face as he faced down his opponent on the other side. The boy had leaned a training staff against his side and once he was finished cracking his fists, he grabbed it, smirking happily.

He got a head cocked in answer from this ‘Din’ika’, a few of them wondering what the others name was, before the little one raised the staff, the way the other held the staff showing he was familiar with a staff. “You don’t have bulk anymore.” Came a soft, modulated voice.

“And you don’t have the height but I know how to fight you Din.” Boba shot back as he put the cadet helmet on, no longer looking so unique compared to everyone else.

The Prime giving a small sigh as he gently hoisted the other impossible child a tad higher, the little one babbling happily as he watched the other kids while the Jedi tilted his head to watch them.

Ignoring the confusing sentences, clones started quietly making bets between themselves, betting everything from favors, extra rations or whatever they thought would make a good trade.

For a moment, the two kids eyed each, two little predators watching, waiting… and then Boba moved, quick on his feet as he lashed out first, closing the distance and swiping down at the other’s legs with his own.

Din, because that had to be the name of the other boy, jumped, using the staff to as support to swing himself to the side quickly before he as quick as an ocean viper raised the staff to slam it down in a graceful arc.

Equally fast, Boba bought up his staff, blocking the hit but grunted as the force of it had his knees buckling slightly as he adjusted his grip on his staff.

“Must have underestimated the force of it.” CC-2224 whispered as quietly as he could to CC-3636. They had no way of knowing that it wasn’t the force of it Boba had underestimated, but the strength of his own body.

Din hadn’t been joking in reminding Boba he didn’t have the bulk to tank it out as he had before when they sparred and it was showing.

But to those unfamiliar with the boys and the situation, the two still came of impressive as the two lashed out, clearly getting more comfortable the longer they sparred.

While they were both lithe little things, it was clear that while Din seemed to prefer to use his fancy footwork and quick moves to either wear down his opponent or end a fight before it began, Boba used his strength and bulk to take on the other.

Which might have been more effective if the other had more bulk but quite a few of the trainers and the more advanced clones, especially the Nulls and Alphas, could tell that with time, if he trained the right way, Boba could become one hell of a tank fighter, heavy muscles and tight weight would do it.

Especially coupled with a proper armor.

Din on the other hand was speed and grace, where Boba seemed like he thought he could run through boulders and smash helmets with his staff as one particular vicious swing seemed to indicate, Din was more inclined towards endurance, wear down his prey and take them out when their strength waned. He dodged and waved, jabbed out with the staff to hit critical points and created openings to tire Boba out.

Finally though, Boba showed that between the two, he still had the superior strength, so maybe there was something to his tank behavior, when he slammed down his staff so hard in the middle of Din’s own that it broke, leaving Din stumbling back with two halves.

Jango stepped forward, as if to call it of when both threw their weapons as if on mutual agreement to be on even footing and if anyone had watched closely enough, they would have seen the shock bloom in the Prime’s eyes when the younglings started to brawl.

“Huh, would you look at that, didn’t know Bob’ika had it in him.” Alpha-17 whispered, leaning close to Spar, Muzzle nodding on the other side of the clone.

“Vicious little thing.” Muzzle agreed, wincing a tad when Din took a fist to the stomach only to whistle when, outside of bowing slightly in pain with a modulated wheeze, Din didn’t let up and instead pounced forward to drag Boba to the mats.

“Both of them.” Alpha-17 tacked on with slight amusement, mind flashing back to the day before when he had met the two in the hallway, how viciously Boba had been standing in front of the other.

Din had come off as a meek, terrified little thing but now he was anything but, rolling on the mats, grappling with Boba.

Maybe Alpha would offer some training aid to the two, should they take it. Before he wouldn’t have contemplated it but Boba was different now, no longer a scowling but obviously scared thing. The Boba he had seen before wouldn’t have backed down if Alpha talked to him.

Hissing in sympathy as Din suddenly got slammed to the mat and his arm wrenched, Alpha nodded to himself as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Yeah, if he could get the two on hand, he’d ask if they wanted some training aid.

Severed stomach: Dumping is pretty common when it comes to gastric sleeve, especially in the start. One of the things you get is tiredness, does Din experiance it?

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Struggling not to let his head drop against Boba’s knee, Din blinked heavily at the blathering fool standing in front of the others dais.

The other had asked him to sit or stand on the dais in armor today, along with Paz, to make an impact as they had a war lord from another planet incoming to make deals and likely to scout out Boba’s operation.

Considering he was finally doing better, Din had jumped on the chance for some work and yet…

For some karking reason he was so tired, struggling not to slump against Boba’s knee. He had gone from standing at the throne side to settling down on the dais by the arm of the throne and the longer he sat there, the more tempting Boba’s knee looked as the conversation washed over him.

It didn’t make sense, Din shouldn’t be this tired.

He’d slept fine this night, he was taking his medication and he had a great lunch with Boba, Fennec and Paz, even if the latter hadn’t removed his helmet, still not at peace with the idea and had eaten behind a curtain. Hell, Paz had gone so far as to make uj cake for them to celebrate Din’s recovery.

The Vizsla clan recipe Paz had proudly boasted, telling all of them that the Vizsla one was better than both clan Wren and clan Rook recipes.

It had been deliciously sweet and spicy, sticky and slightly gooey on the top due to the alcohol syrup drizzle and moist and soft inside with chewy nuts and fruits.

Paz hadn’t often made it in the covert, special days only and sometimes for the younglings, so to get a whole tray of it. So even though Din could only eat some of it had been one hell of a treat and he had felt happy to do as Boba asked, his stomach a tad fuller than it should be due to him overeating cake.

Now he was just… so tired.

Why?

He couldn’t understand why and he didn’t want to embarrass Boba by jus-

A strong pull suddenly had Din’s head resting against Boba’s knee and before he could make much more than an aborted noise that his helmet didn’t pickup on, he felt a familiar and strong hand wrap around the back of his neck, bare, warm fingers pressing between his kute and cape.

Boba.

Boba had pulled Din’s head to his knee, was telling him to remain and Din slumped a bit with relief.

He of course didn’t realize how it looked as he let his eyes close, resting against Boba until he fell asleep. Din had slept worse places after all and with his helmet on, the feeling of people looking at him was familiar due to the beskar.

Now though… now they were looking because of Boba.

On the throne, his legs sprawled obscenely, Boba watched them with a grim gaze, his hand settled on the back of the neck of his shiny mando. On the left arm, Fennec sat, drinking spotchka as she leered at the court with lidded eyes. Behind the throne, leaning on the throne with his elbows was Paz, the cold black visor staring at the court unwaveringly.

It was a terrifying sight, especially with the sight of the gadaffi stick resting against the throne, Paz blaster canon on his back, Din’s beskar spear at his side and Fennec’s sniper rifle over her lap.

All of them looked armed to the teeth, dangerous and yet utterly relaxed, especially with Din sleeping against Boba’s leg.

Were they that confidant they could handle anything the rest of Tatooine or any rivals around the planet could throw at them that they could afford to be asleep or drunk?

The message it sent was terrifying.

Of course, the rest of the court didn’t need to know that three of them were worried about the fourth, Boba, Paz and Fennec all recognizing that something was up with Din.

Gingerly, Boba pressed his index finger to Din’s pulse point, inwardly frowning as he just found a steady, slow pulse and heartbeat.

Nothing seemed wrong beyond Din being so damn tired he actually fell asleep on the dais of all things, even as he quietly finger spelled to both Paz and Fennec that Din was simply asleep and not sick.

After all, his skin wasn’t clam, his breathing was steady and his heartbeat normal.

He was just exhausted.

But why…

If Boba was going to take a guess, he would imagine it had something to do with the others stomach, as many of the changes in Din’s behavior lead back to it. Though how it could be making him so tired, Boba wasn’t sure.

He couldn’t remember reading anything about sleepiness in relation to the gastric sleeve thing but maybe he hadn’t read it properly?

If it wasn’t for how important this meeting was, he would have stormed of with Din to figure it out now but seeing as beyond just sleeping, Din was fine, Boba was going to put a lid on his own nerves and coldly continue to observe the blubbering messenger in front of him with a stoic face.

Behind him, he could feel Paz shift, clearly the big mando itching to get to Din and either put him to bed properly or get him to the medbay, not that Boba blamed him. The King of Tatooine after all wanted to do the same.

Have Russal give him a scan and check his blood sugars. ‘Just get this over with and then I’ll take a break, take Din to the medbay.’ He promised himself mentally as he growled at the messenger, smirking humorlessly when the brat almost pissed himself in fear.

How the warlord thought to send this spineless brat to Boba, he’d never know, but the sooner he got his master’s demands out, the sooner Boba could reject them and send the messenger back packing.

Actually, maybe he’d send the messenger back, tarred and feathered, just for a point. ‘Or tied up like a hog and covered in graffiti?’ Boba mused to himself with humor. He knew that Yuna and Irv would be more than happy to deliver the little messenger back to his warlord if he did that.

Din let out a low noise in his sleep, nuzzling Boba’s thigh with his helmet, distracting Boba from his rather amusing thoughts.

Swiping his thumb soothingly over the nape, Boba couldn’t help but smile at the trust given to him, despite his own worry. ‘Rest well Din. Your trust isn’t misplaced.’

PLEASE, how does obi-wan’s visit to kamino go in fresh and young? how does he react to din and grogu? and does their presence change his relationship with jango, now that he’s kinda-sorta adopted a jedi youngling, do they actually talk to each other or is it just more of the same?? also, how do the troopers react to din and grogu? i know we saw a little bit already, but i’d love to see more of their interactions

Posted on av swmoddy

Okay, so, Din wasn’t actually quite sure what was going on. Boba had of course tried to explain, as he always did when Din encountered things he didn’t really understand in the grander universe even back on Tatooine and now on Kamino but… Well, Din’s head was already sort of aching with the idea of time travel and the changes in their bodies, not to mention the lack of helmet.

So far, Grogu was the one that had changed the least, if he had even deaged at all.

The idea that they were some thirty years into the past or something like that kind of broke Din’s mind as he relied on Boba.

In their child body.

With Grogu.

Apparently, this was the planet where Boba had been born. Or decanted as he had said, as Boba was a clone and while Din had been aware of that for a while now, it was still strange to see so many with a face almost identical to Boba.

Not to mention meeting Boba’s buir.

Then there was the lack of his Din’s helmet, which had Boba had tried to help him with by giving him clothes with hoods on for now, promising him that he’d get him one of the cadet helmets.

Apparently there were helmets here that should fit Din and he’d be so grateful to have one but he knew better than to push, even though his skin crawled any time someone that wasn’t Grogu or Boba looked too closely at his face.

Then Boba was trying to explain to Jango about how they arrived only to end up crying, considering he hadn’t seen his buir in almost thirty years, that was also understandable, so Din hadn’t scolded or thought any ill of his Boba at that.

Boba more than anyone deserved to cry in the arms of his buir, having actually seen the man be decapitated after the stories he had told Din.

But when he finally started in on the story, Jango closing his eyes with a small groan as the story of ‘time travel’ passed his lips, they had been interrupted.

By a Jedi.

A redhead, sopping wet from the rain of Kamino and Jango had suddenly turned from a caring and soft buir to a cold and calculated bounty hunter, something Din recognized from his own days and Boba had turned as pale as he could, watching everything with reddened, panicked eyes as Din moved out of the way, nervously standing between the Jedi and the doors as Boba and Jango stood in front of the Jedi.

When Boba tried to speak up, the Jedi seemed bemused by it all, looking closely at Boba as if he was a puzzle, giving Din the same penetrating glance and when he looked at Grogu on the couch, watching it all quietly…

Well, the Jedi seemed to stiffen and then he turned glacially polite, excusing himself, Jango making no move to stop him.

Something that sent Boba into a panic, Din could tell by the way his eyes widened and his lips twisted, even without the scars to give them its usual shape.

So, when Boba yelled, Din acted. “Din! Stop him!” Boba yelled as the Jedi made a move towards the door, passing Din.

Now, you could not accuse Din of being stupid but… well, he was only human and he might have panicked a tad too when Boba yelled. Which explains why he’s currently wrapped around the Jedi’s leg, eyes wide, staring up at the redhead before looking at Boba and his buir.

Everyone paused at that, staring at Din sitting on the Jedi’s foot, even the Jedi looked a tad lost as he stared down at Din.

“… I did mean shoot him with the blaster on the table.” Boba stated a tad weakly, rubbing slightly at his red, swollen eyes.

“…I panicked.” Din squeaked, still clinging to the Jedi’s leg and then blinking when there was a coo. All four looked to the noise, finding Grogu wrapped around the Jedi’s other leg, the kid blinking up at them all with wide eyes as his ears wiggled happily.

Alright, that was something Din was used to at least, Grogu moving silently and quickly without notice and he smiled shakily at his adiik, still clinging to the Jedi’s leg in case he tried to move.

Though, really, if the Jedi wanted him of off, he could easily manage it Din figured… least it buy Boba a few seconds?  

Scratching at his hair, Boba blinked several times. “…I really, really did mean to stun him but I guess this works too since he stopped.” He stated in bemusement before walking over and carefully helping Din up.

Well, at least the Jedi had stopped, staring at them in utter bemusement now, blinking between the three time travelers.

“…I have the feeling that at least you,” Here the Jedi pointed at Boba. “Know what’s going on, as your buir,” All three mandalorians jumped a bit in surprise at the mando’a coming from the Jedi. “Looks about as lost as I feel.” He raised one, perfectly manicured brow at them.

“Don’t worry, we’re all confused.” Din whispered, shrinking a bit under the intent look of the Jedi and ducking behind Boba’s back when the other moved in front of him.

Stroking his beard, the man raised both brows as Din peeked up over Boba’s shoulder. Likely, Boba was glaring at the Jedi and Din pressed his cheek to Boba’s shoulder, feeling warm at the protectiveness of the other. Boba was always kind and good to him, even when Din himself didn’t know what to do.

“Yes, I can see that… well then, how about I hear you out… if you can explain to me why a Jedi youngling is on the planet, in your care.” The Jedi finished a tad more sternly. Din reached down and picked up Grogu, nervously cuddling his adiik to his child.

“If you’re willing to listen, sure Kenobi.” Boba shot back with a little growl, clearly upset with him for staring at Din.

“You’re making deals I’m not sure you can hold there Bob’ika.” Jango, his buir sighed loudly and Din glanced nervously at the man, finding him shaking his head.

Then Jango chuckled a tad as Boba guiltily looked back at him. “I know buir but… this is important… please?” Boba whispered, biting at his lips. He looked nervous and Din eased Grogu into one arm so he could reach out and hold Boba’s hand, squeezing the tiny hand in his.

All of this was strange and new and Din wasn’t quite sure where he fit in but… as long as he had Boba and Grogu… he could figure it out.

Even if the way the Jedi were looking at all three like they were a puzzle was a bit disconcerting

Fresh and Young? Love your Time travel Din, Bob’s and Grogu

Posted on av swmoddy

Watching closely as Din started eating with Grogu curled up into the other, Boba narrowed his eyes before nodding in satisfaction, seeing Din focus more on the meal than anything else.

Din could be problematic when it came to eating.

Not because he wanted to be but because his body literally forgot his hunger at times, something about his subset of human Fennec had theorized quietly one drunken night and Din admitting that his entire people had been slaughtered, so there was no one to ask.

It was as good an answer as anything at the time.

Now though, Boba was wondering if it wasn’t a trained response, to ignore his own hunger. Maybe a lack of resources and therefore he had gotten his body used to less food or substandard food like ration bars with hot sauce on it.

Technically, it had all the nutrients one needed and was well enough for a bounty hunter to keep going.

But it wasn’t exactly healthy in the long run and most humans were suppose to eat between four to seven meals a day. The ration bars would keep you with the vitamins, the fat and the proteins a human was suppose to have but it could wreck havoc on a humans digestion system eventually and Boba suspected it was likely what had made Din eat the way he did.

Boba had tried very hard to get Din to at least eat four meals if not more and Grogu helped actually, the adiik reminding Din to eat since the baby ate often.

Still, now that the other was eating the hot leftovers, Boba was left with his buir.

Who was watching all of them Boba realized when he turned his head to him.

Jango raised his brows at him and Boba had to resist the urge to nervously rub at his head scars.

Because he didn’t have those anymore and the feeling of hair was very distracting but welcome. Instead of rubbing at those, Boba instead pressed his knuckles together in his lap and rubbed his thumbs together. “You want answers buir… but I don’t… I don’t know how to…” He looked nervously to Din.

Now that he was actually in front of his dad and talking, he wasn’t actually sure how to explain everything, from the time travel to the other two or the fact that Din was his lover and not…

Well, that area was still weird.

They were children after all and Boba knew he was going to have complicated feelings about this for years to come for sure. Hell, when their hormones eventually came, it was going to be even worse and Boba was not looking forward to that.

“The beginning is usually the best place.” Jango stated evenly, his hands flat on his thighs, leaning forward slightly towards the kids.

Because that was what they were now, kids.

Boba could tell that he wasn’t quite thinking like his adult self, there were things… missing in a way. And some memories seemed fainter somehow, as if his child mind couldn’t quite comprehend it.

Maybe for the best, but it left Boba feeling a tad frustrated.

Looking to Din again, finding the other having paused with the spoon in his mouth, the two tried to communicate with their eyes as Grogu bubbled at them.

Wait, how old was Grogu now?

He and Din had deaged after all, had Grogu?

Was there another Grogu in this universe just like he had wondered if there was another Din?

A throat cleared itself loudly and Boba forcefully turned his head back to Jango, realizing he had been spiraling and cursing himself for it. That kind of thing could have gotten him killed in his bounty hunter carrier and as King of Tatooine.

‘My focus certainly isn’t what it used to be.’ He cursed inwardly. “I’m sorry, my focus…” He glanced back at Din then back to his buir before his thoughts could go rabbiting again.

Jango though, simply sighed then smiled in that fond, exasperated way that made a lump appear in Boba’s throat. Stars, he had forgotten that look, how much it told him that Jango loved him despite Boba doing things that made the other upset.

When Jango reached out and gently ruffled his hair, the entire thing a distraction really, Boba had to fight his tears and before he could think better of himself, he crawled forward quickly into the others lap and held onto his dad, burying his face into Jango’s chest.

Just like the day before as he pressed his face to Jango’s stomach, the scent of his dad filled his nose along with the arms wrapping around him tightly.

Just like when Din held him, they reminded him that he was safe, that Jango was there, would hold him and reassure him and Boba let the tears come that he had kept back for a day and a half.

His buir was really there, this wasn’t a dream and it didn’t look like there was a way back.

Warm fingers ran through his hair and Jango made a low noise, not to shush Boba but simply a comforting deep noise. “I’m here Bob’ika. Buir’s here. Deep breaths Kar’ika.” Jango murmured quietly, his voice a rumble in his chest.

Ka’ra, Boba had missed his father so much and to hear him call Boba Kar’ika once more… there were times Boba would have given his limbs to hear his buir’s voice once more and today he got to hear it, feel his arms around him… it was almost more than he could handle.

Time had not made the grief any easier to bear, had only made it numb as the memories lost its harsh edges and Jango’s voice and scent faded from his mind.

A small hand joined Jango’s on his back and Boba didn’t need to turn to see it was Din, setting of a new set of sobs of relief that he hadn’t lost Din to gain his father back.

He wasn’t sure what would be worse, the guilt of choosing one might have broken him and now he didn’t need to chose, because Din and Grogu were already here.

His beloved with his son and his buir in the same room, something he never thought he’d have and he could actually introduce Din to his buir and…

Oh Ka’ra.

Breaking down against his buir should have been humiliating, Boba was really a man of his forties and yet all he could feel was a startling amount of relief and love as he buried himself into Jango’s warmth while feeling Din’s tiny hand on his back. Is it possible to grieve a man that’s alive?

It feels like that’s what Boba is doing, ugly sobbing into his buir’s chest to the point he’s sure he’s getting snot onto the others shirt even as he makes up his mind, crying painful tears into the chest of a man he thought he’d never see only in echos and dreams.

This time, this time he would make sure he didn’t loose any of them.

Not his buir, not Din and not Grogu, his little family would survive and they would thrive and Boba would do anything to make sure they survived.

Even if he had to take on that karking wrinkled worm Palpatine himself in a fist fight.

That decayed motherfucker nor Dooku, his pawn, wouldn’t get to manipulate his buir again.

Adiik = Child

Buir = Parent

Kar’ika Little Heart (Bodword helped get this and as they said ‘it’s actually super cute, because “kar’ta” is heart, and “kar’ika” could also be little heart’)

If you’re up for it, I would love to read more of deaged and time traveling Boba, Din and Grogu! What exactly do they tell Jango?

Posted on av swmoddy

Peering curiously at the little child as he feed it, Jango tilted his head as he cooed happily. “You know, I’m not sure this is what you’re suppose to be eating little one.” He stated in a tad of bemusement, still feeding him little bits of leftover tiingilar carefully.

The little one had come stumbling out of Boba’s bedroom about an hour after the two older had left, rubbing his eyes while looking around with a wide eyed look that Jango easily identified as hungry, even on an alien child.

Years of having Boba had accustomed Jango to looks like that.

Leaving a child hungry wasn’t in Jango’s nature, even as his mind hissed at him about the clones, and therefore he had carefully picked Grogu up and settled him on the couch, promising him food.

That had gotten the little one to keep sitting, cooing hopefully, large eyes following him as adorable ears twitched in hope.

Unfortunately, Jango had yet to stock up properly, he only had a few things and most of it required prep or defrostnig.

Not ideal when a child was already hungry.

Which left Jango feeding a child the spicy leftovers.

He had thought that the child might pitch a fit but…

‘Does he have an iron mouth or something?’ He wondered in bemusement, carefully dabbing Grogu’s chin as a bit of stew leaked. “Guess you like spice huh, does the other one too? Would make feeding you both easier.” Jango stated, smiling wryly.

For all the kid was like the Jedi grandmaster in looks, it was… difficult not to find him adorable. “I’m guessing I’m gonna have to find some nappies for you.” He paused, frowning slightly, chuckling when Grogu left out a grumpy noise.

He quickly fed him another spoonful, only for both to pause as the door opened, Boba leading Din inside. Boba had been quick to introduce the other boy to Jango, before going to bed last night, Jango deciding to wait for Boba to tell him what the kark was going on.

He trusted his son, despite the personality changes, because no one clung as desperately to someone as Boba had done without loving them.

There was something going on and Jango was going to find out and he just knew, just knew deep in his gut, that he would not like it.

The younger but taller boy was still tugging at his hood, looking nervously at Jango with those big, brown eyes of his, as if he wasn’t used to looking others in the face or having his own face exposed.

Boba instead looked grouchy, his lips pursed in what the boy likely thought was a scowl but came of as a pout. It made Jango have to fight against his own laughter.

“Is that tiingilar buir?” Boba suddenly asked, staring at the two as he and Din paused.

Jango shrugged, glancing down at Grogu, who still held his mouth open like a baby bird, waiting for more. “Was the only thing I had that didn’t need prep. Thought he might pitch a fit at the spice but…” He shrugged, smiling helplessly.

“Are you really surprised?” Din spoke up, voice soft and lisping faintly. Jango had already identified the accent, Aq Vetina, a planet on the outer area of the Mandalorian sector. It was colonized by farmers as far as he knew and that again made Din even more impossible. “He eats frogs.” The boy pointed out.

Boba let out a thoughtful noise at that before sighing and nodding, pulling Din towards the couch. “…Wait, what?” Jango blinked then looked down at Grogu, the ik’aad blinking back at him and demanding opening his mouth. Obediently, Jango fed him another spoon from the bowl.

“I didn’t let him!” Din stated defensively, more animated than Jango had seen him, his lips twisting unhappily. “He jumped on it and swallowed it before I could stop it.”

Jango looked back up, even more surprised. “…He ate it whole?” He rasped, watching as Boba pushed Din to sit down on the couch beside Grogu, the boy quickly stroking the big ears of the baby.

Din grimaced but nodded but before he could say more, Boba spoke up. “Is there more tiingilar?” He questioned brusquely, quelling slightly under Jango’s raised brow, jutting his chin out even as his cheeks pinkened. “Please?”

Scraping the bowl and feeding Grogu the last bit, Jango nodded. “Yes, in the container in the fridge. Its from yesterdays dinner.” And Jango always made more than enough tiingilar, to be able to eat the leftovers.

Boba nodded in satisfaction, grinning happily before turning to Din and raising one little finger at him. “You’re tiny and you’re way too skinny. You’re gonna eat a whole bowl, or so help me, I will…” He paused, looking at his own hand, Din echoing the move.

Then Din grinned, giggling slightly. “I don’t think that’s gonna work out so well.” He stated a tad cheekily, not tugging at his hood as he grinned almost mischievously at Boba.

Boba gave him a peevish look in return, glared at his own hand for a minute while flexing his fingers, then huffed slightly as Grogu gave a giggle too and clapped little claws together in response to Din’s joy, Jango watching them in confusion.

“You’re still eating a whole bowl.” Boba grumbled, making his way to the kitchen, staring up at the cupboards as if they had betrayed him before pulling his stepping ladder over to reach the dishes. Jango would offer him help, but frankly, watching Boba look as if the cupboards had personally insulted him and his entire family line and his armor was something he’d cherish if he was honest.

“He’s upset he’s short.” The soft, lisping voice attracted his attention, Jango turning his attention to Din to see him grinning widely, his arms wrapped around little Grogu now as the adiik had crawled into his lap and snuggled up.

Clearly the baby was full and therefore content.

Jango had to repress the urge to say ‘but he’s always been like this’ and instead raised a brow at the kid in front of him, smiling slightly. Din was clearly an anxious sort and he’d rather not frighten the boy when he was slowly getting used to Jango.

It was clear that Boba was not going to leave Din anywhere.

All of these little clues however was drawing Jango towards a suspicion.

An impossible, improbable and incredulous suspicion.

Yet…

These new children and the changes in Boba…

‘Wait and see, do not act without proper information Jango, or you can walk yourself into a trap.’ Jaster’s low voice spoke up in the recesses of his mind and therefore Jango settled, smiling wryly at Din.

ik’aad = Baby, under 3. Jango doesn’t know how old he is though lol

tiingilar = Spicy traditional mandalorian stew

adiik = children

buir = parent

YoungandFresh, oh pretty please! More!?

Posted on av swmoddy

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

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.

Posted on av swmoddy

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.