fluff

What happens next in Sightless bird?

Posted on av swmoddy

Leaving the gathering hall is a relief, as bewildering and interesting as it is to hear adults bicker like children, Obi-Wan would admit that he was a bit dazed at this point.

Overwhelmed and overstimulated.

All the sounds and scents, a mix of cologne and perfumes and oils that overpowered his nose that made him sneeze. Then there was the emotions spilling all over without any shields in place on most of these adults were…

These people were suppose to be among those that made decisions on how their society was suppose to work?

These people that bickered worse than children over petty things, who didn’t seem to get that they were suppose to support and care for people all over the galaxy and instead were arguing about petty things?

Honestly, who in the galaxy bickered about parking taxes!?

He and Anakin had more productive arguments, and they sometimes argued about the texture of blankets and what kind of slippers were best!

So yes, Obi-Wan is relieved as he follows his master to get away, tucked into Anakin’s side with one hand holding onto the man’s belt to relieve his own senses just a bit.

Well, until he feels that signature.

That person, unique as all people were and dear to Obi-Wan as he perks up and lets go, rushing forward. Anakin lets out a surprised, worried shout but lets Obi-Wan rush forward, dodging under aids.

“Fox!” Obi-Wan cried with delight, the glow of the man turning towards him, brightening up like a bonfire before the man is reaching out, catching Obi-Wan with little difficulty.

He’s equally easily lifted up into the air, happily reaching out and tucking his legs around Fox chest, holding on as he delights in having his Fox again in reach with vambrace covered arms beneath his ass supporting. He loved Fox, Fox was one of the best people he knew.

“Thorn, get my helmet off.” Fox growled and Obi-Wan would have greeted Thorn, he liked Thorn but he was occupied in basking in the affectionate care of his big brother as Fox dropped his bare head forward, pressing it to Obi-Wan’s.

The affection wraps around him, warm and familiar like an old blanket, echoing through Obi-Wan from the skin to skin touch and like this, so close, Obi-Wan can see Fox.

Or well, what he thinks is Fox face.

He done this with others, fingertips can only give him so much and while there is no color, its still Fox face.

“Hi Fox.” He greeted quietly, arms wrapped around the commander’s neck to hold on with quiet glee.

“Hey there verd’ika.” Fox greeted in turn, voice low and warm as he held tightly onto Obi-Wan, his breath smelling of caff as it washed over Obi-Wan’s face. In the Force, Fox emotions were a convoluted mess but sticking out almost like a sore thumb was the man’s relief with the affection.

Obi-Wan knew that Fox didn’t like he was out in active battlefields, knew that he didn’t want Obi-Wan out in the war but that the other wouldn’t say as much. That he wanted Obi-Wan to spread his own wings so to speak.

And from Fox, those emotions didn’t hurt.

Fox didn’t think of him as ‘less’ because his eyes didn’t work.

Fox was simply worried because he cared.

It had nothing to do with Obi-Wan being supposedly less capable than any other youngling.

Fox has never made Obi-Wan feel less, only loved by someone who genuinely cared. Just like creche master Dolan and Vanda, just like master Yoda and Master Windu.

Just like Anakin and Qui-Gon.

A warm, protective hand rests on his back and Obi-Wan reluctantly pulls away enough to tilt his head in Anakin’s direction, beaming happily. “Panakin!” He clung to Fox still. “Can I stay with ori vod Fox?” He questioned hopefully, feeling Fox arms tighten on his legs.

Anakin let out a deep, considering hum, rubbing lightly at his spine. “Well, as long as Commander Fox feeds you and brings you to the temple before eight, I don’t see an issue.” His master stated lightly.

The arms on his legs eased the grip slightly, Obi-Wan feeling himself dip slightly. “Of course General, we’ll feed him properly.” Fox promised.

Obi-Wan just grinned, feeling Anakin tug on his braid with the Force.

He got to spend time with Fox! “Shooting range!” He cried out, hands in the air, Thorn laughing in his helmet as Fox snorted loudly.

You can’t just do that to me! I need to know what happens in SweetPrincess!

Posted on av swmoddy

For the last week, no one had seen hide nor hair of Princess.

Several people speculated what was going on of course, behind closed doors, though not too loudly. Not with the silver armored Mandalorian back, standing behind Boba’s throne with his hand on the back.

Whatever hunt the other had been on must have been long but he was back now and as menacing and silent as ever, only ever talking to Fett or Shand.

Setting fear into everyone as they expected the man to kill someone any day after what happened to Princess.

But yes, there were speculations despite him.

Some thought that Fett had gotten rid of Princess.

Damaged wares and all. Though it seemed odd but hey, wouldn’t be the first time a ruler of Tatooine had gotten rid of their favorite for a reason.

Some thought Fett was simply keeping him to the bedroom for now, not wanting him out as another target once more and simply fucking him in there.

The last and least believed theory was that Fett was letting Princess rest, that the head injury was severe enough that Fett wanted the other healed.

Everyone however agreed that Fett had been in a foul mood ever since though.

A lack of relief some thought, which gave credence to the other no longer having Princess.

After all, the other was a throne whore, what ruler cared about the comfort of their slave bed warmer?

But then Princess was back and several courtiers almost had a heart attack when they saw him again.

Because the other was sitting on Fett’s throne.

No, not simply sitting, lounging on the throne, wiry legs settled over one stone arm with his arms settled on the other, head pillowed on his arms as he gazed at everyone with lidded eyes. The others collar was back on, the thin, shiny beskar leash hooked to the throne the man was sitting on as if he owned it.

And Fett was standing by the throne, watching the stairs.

His helmet was in Princess possession, resting on the throne by the man’s stomach. Occasionally one of Princess hands would stray from the arm and pet the helmet almost affectionately, as if it was Fett’s scarred head.

Occasionally, Princess would also flicker his eyes to look around the room, giving everyone a lazy, almost smug smile.

As if he knew something they did not.

Having a slave lord over them wasn’t a pleasant sensation. The ones who had scoffed at the idea of Fett letting Princess heal was suddenly doubting their own thoughts.

Because if anyone but Princess, even Shand, had sat in the throne as if it was theirs, Fett would have gutted them.

Quietly, people were settling around, Fett never looking away from the stairs.

Loath as they were to get his attention, everyone remained quiet, the musicians settling on their stages but only nervously fiddling with their instruments.

Fett ignored them all, his lip curling into an impatient but silent snarl as bartenders served the people lining quietly up around the room.

Several tensed as slowly, a growing, growling noise came from the man, his impatience skyrocketing steadily and when his hand dropped towards his blaster, several contemplated hiding behind tables.

“Buir’ika.” A low, rasped voice murmured, Princess sitting up with the helmet hugged to his stomach.

Instantly, Fett turned on his heel, his anger evaporating as he instead stepped closer to the throne, to his Princess.  He murmured something in Mando’a that Princess returned in the same tone though a clear difference in dialect.

The little they could see of Fett’s face transformed, from his blank look to fondness, the man leaning down to cup the others chin. Softly, he kissed Princess, thumbing lightly at his chin as the darker man sighed happily into the others lip, hand coming up to cup the back of Fett’s head.

Anyone else would have hand their hand removed.

But Princess merely got a low hum of pleasure from Fett, running his fingertips over the man’s scalp scars before literally scratching gently behind one ear.

As if Fett was a fucking feline.

To the shock of many, Fett actually rumbled in pleasure though he pulled away quickly when there was a commotion at the top of the stairs.

It was enough to distract everyone from the impossible scene they had seen.

There was shouting at the stairs, a fleshy THUMP and then a body came rolling down the stairs, Shand prowling down after with a wicked smirk on her face.

And a black eye.

Fett narrowed his eyes at that before looking at the body laying at the bottom of the stairs, the man struggling to get to his feet, wrapped in expensive layers of fabric.

His face was currently rather mauled but recognizable to those around still.

Feruko Snalla, humanoid, born on Naboo supposedly, once an Imperial captain of some sort and later on a lieutenant of a gang.

His boss had sent him, a New Republic gang, the Vipers nest, the one that had scraped and bowed and promised Fett a foothold on Coruscant via the gang. As long as there was an alliance, the King of Tatooine and the gang could benefit each other.

Fett’s face turned to stone and yet his eyes were fire as the now frightened man was struggling to get to his feet. “This one?” He questioned, a snarl curling his lip as Shand snorted and nodded.

“Idiot kept a scrap of the babydoll.” Shand snarked, smirking at the back of Snalla as she kept a blaster trained on him, her rifle on her back.

Opening his mouth, most likely to defend himself, his mouth snapped shut when Princess let out a soft hum behind Fett, the scarred man turning instantly to his throne warmer. “Princess.” He stated quietly.

Tilting his head, Princess stared at Snalla before nodding. “I remember him. He kept following me around, tried talking with me,” Princess words were clearly enough for Fett but he kept talking. “I believe I scratched him, his neck should have nail marks.” Princess noted absently, rubbing at his head.

“Now, wait a minute,” Snalla started only to cry out when Shand dragged the folds of scarves at his neck down, exposing the pale neck.

Sure enough, scratches lined the pale neck.

Combined with the babydoll fabric and what little Princess seemed to recollect, it was more than enough as Fett stepped off the dais with his silent snarl, Princess watching with quiet interest from the throne as he hugged the helmet.

Snalla dropped to his knees, bringing his hands up as he pleaded for mercy, telling him that the Vipers wouldn’t work with Fett if he was injured, the spineless man sniveling for mercy.

Fett simply loomed over the other man for a minute before turning his head, looking to Princess, a question in his eyes, his lips still curled with a snarl.

For a second, it looked like Princess didn’t know what to do.

Then he lifted one fist and drew his thumb across his neck, smiling sweetly at his King.

Fett turned back around and drew his knife from his belt, the same knife the court had seen the man peel fruit for Princess with.

With one smooth, easy slash, he drew it across Snalla’s throat, deep enough for the man to die and yet…

Shallow.

Snalla choked, his hands coming up as he gasped for air, eyes bulging as he tried to keep his throat shut. Blood poured between his fingers and under his palms, the man shaking before falling face forward onto the sand.

He rasped, spasmed, the man dying in front of the terrified court.

Fett simply spat on the dying man and wiped his blade on the others many layers of dark fabric before returning to the throne, Shand getting a bottle from the bartender with a happy grunt.

Not many paid attention to her though, their terrified focus on Princess and Fett.

Gloved hands cupped Princess cheek, gently rubbing before Fett leaned down and pressed their foreheads together, the two murmuring quietly to each other before Princess stood, the soft jingle of beskar chain sounding.

Fett settled down on the throne with Princess sitting down the moment the man was comfortable, helmet still in Princess hands. “Someone get rid of that trash, feed it to the scavengers.” Fett gestured to the death twitching body, a heavyset devaronian coming forward quickly to hoist the still bleeding human onto his shoulder.

Princess just watched everyone with lidded eyes, smiling smugly from his position against Fett, seeming so much more than just a throne whore in that moment.

Sweet princess, oh gosh, blood, blood on all! Or some soft Bobadin?

Posted on av swmoddy

Waking up, Din feels sore. And not the nice kind of sore that comes from Boba’s touch. No, this is the kind of soreness that comes from injury Din figures as he lays quietly for a minute, trying to remember what the kark happened.

He can’t.

The last thing Din remembers is leaving the throne room, wanting to get some of those melons Boba had bought for him from the storeroom and after that… blankness.

But he recognizes where he is. The familiar feeling of resting against Boba’s shoulder with the other’s arm wrapped around him too distinct for Din to ever mistake. Nor can he mistake the scent of almost sickeningly sweet bacta.

Alright, admittedly, that is more worrying. Coupled with his lack of memory and a minor headache, leads Din to conclusions that annoy him. Someone had managed to ambush him clearly, and by the lack of memory, given him head trauma.

‘Dank farrik,’ he mentally grumbled even as he pressed closer to Boba, throwing his leg between the older man’s. He hated head trauma. That rarely happened when he was wearing his helmet unless he was too close to a fucking explosion. But what was he to expect, walking around without his buy’ce.

A warm hand touched his hair, stroking it tenderly. “Din, baby?” Boba’s voice was deep, sleep rasped and full of overwhelming concern which had Din opening his eyes despite the ache in his head.

There is a candle lit in the room, providing them dim but natural light as it rested on the bedside table next to Boba. The natural light would be less harmful to Din’s eyes and head than an artificial one would be. Maybe that’s why Boba had one lit. The man tended to think more of Din’s comfort than Din did himself.

Said man was currently staring at him with dark eyes. His furrowed brow relaxed when Din nuzzled closer into the hand that Boba was stroking slowly and tenderly through his hair.

“Boba,” Din greeted, his voice raspier and deeper than usual.

Actually, thinking about it, his throat hurt as he spoke. He raised hand only for Boba to intercept it, lacing their fingers together. “Don’t. I’ve put a bruise salve on it. Let it work for another hour,” Boba whispered quietly, frowning at him. Then his face fell further. “You can’t remember, can you?” He stated, upset but not surprised.

Letting out a low noise, trying not to feel like he was failing the other man, Din nodded as he took in the fact that their thicker blanket was covering them, indicating how many hours Din had lost out on based on his last memory.

At the very least, Din had lost seven to eight hours, if not more. Din couldn’t tell, but he knew that the suns must have gone down at the very least and been down for an hour for it to be this chilled in their room.

Boba let out a deep breath at the confirmation of what he likely suspected, pressing his lips to Din’s forehead with the gentleness Din had come to expect in these rooms and even outside them when he was kneeling.

“I was worried that would be the case, but I am not surprised. You had a hairline fracture.” He whispered, brushing his fingers over Din’s temple.

“Had?” Din mumbled, blinking a bit as he nuzzled closer.

“I had a medic look you over, with proper tools.” Boba confirmed. The King of Tatooine was able to get whatever he wanted, including medical treatment at the snap of his fingers.

Well, that did explain things. Din nuzzled closer to the other, between the injury and whatever treatment he had been given to fix the injuries, Boba hadn’t been able just spread bacta on it and call it better.

“I think someone ambushed me but… that’s the extent of it.” He stated quietly after thinking a moment, peering at Boba’s face as the other looked up at the ceiling.

The room went quiet, the silence uneasy.

As he watched Boba, Din tried to piece together what he was seeing even as he pressed himself closer to the other man. It didn’t look like Boba was angry at him or disappointed, regardless of how much that cruel, hissing voice in Din’s head tried to claim he was. The arm around him was still possessive, protective, wrapped around him with the touch earlier having been as kind as always.

But Boba did look upset.

No… no, not upset.

Din narrowed his eyes before letting out a soft noise of realization, attracting Boba’s attention again as the scarred man turned his head. ‘He’s worried and sad.’ Din shifted, sitting up slowly, ignoring how sore he felt as he instead shifted his leg up and over Boba’s hip, straddling the other to wrap his taller body around the broad one buried in pillows.

Boba’s hands instantly came to rest on his hips, letting out a questioning noise as Din buried his face in Boba’s neck.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Boba’s body went taut under him at Din’s whisper, hands spasming on the tapered waist.

“I…” Boba swallowed thickly, the noise almost echoing in Din’s ears as he continued nuzzling slowly, curled into the warm, enjoying the feel of bare skin against his own underneath a thick blanket.

The nights of the desert were so cold, even inside, so they had night and day blankets. The glide of it felt enjoyable against Din’s bare skin, but not enough for his flaccid cock to even twitch against Boba’s stomach.

“I know this won’t happen again. I’m not leaving.” Din repeated quietly. He needed the other to know he didn’t blame him. Honestly, Boba couldn’t control everyone; there was always one idiot. And it was better to have it revealed earlier rather than later.

Because Din knew that Boba would never suffer a fool in his court, in his sanctum. No, whoever had done this to Din would be found and they would be dealt with; though Din couldn’t promise he would be leaving the throne room any time soon without his armor on.

But as he nuzzled into his lover, likely smearing the bruise cream on the others skin, he knew that this was not Boba’s fault.

Boba remained tense for several minutes before suddenly the tension dropped entirely from his body, as if all the air had left him out of the relief he was feeling, his hand resting on the base of Din’s spine like a brand.

“Mesh’la, ner mesh’la. Ni ceta.” He whispered thickly, running that broad hand slowly up and down Din’s spine. Humming faintly, Din pressed his face into the shoulder, pressing his lips to the scarred skin, feeling the pulse of blood beneath.

“There is nothing to forgive buir’ika. Ner buir’ika.” He mumbled, his limbs going looser and looser the more Boba petted him.

“Yes, I’m your daddy. This won’t happen again,” Boba promised, his other hand cupping the back of Din’s hair, scratching at his scalp once again as his body grew heavy once more with the careful petting.

Din still had enough mind to give a grouchy little mewl, huffing when Boba let out a questioning noise that rumbled through his chest.

“I want my collar back,” Din grunted, smiling sleepily into the Boba’s chest when his lover started laughing. Nary a whisper of a sound escaped him, but it was all the more enjoyable for the relief and warmth of it.

“Indeed, princess,” Boba agreed quietly, squeezing Din to his chest. “You’ll have it back as you wish.”

I am VERY curious about what Knight Moddy is up to for, was it yule? is that what its called in Norway? but anyhow, curious!

Posted on av swmoddy

Pausing, the two knights stared at each other, one in complete bewilderment and the other as if nothing was wrong.

Technically, nothing was wrong but the sight of a goat being held under Knight Ara’s arm was one of the odder sights Jaylah had seen in a few days she had to admit, even in the temple with all the Life days traditions cropping up.  “Seasons Blessing Jay.” Ara chirped, using the generic greeting in case her friend was sensitive to a particular greeting.

Lifting a finger, Jay opened her mouth. “Seasons blessings to you too I guess, so, um… goat?” She questioned as she stared down at Moddy.

Peering back up, the woman hefted the goat a bit higher against her side, ignoring when it bleated unhappily. “Yup, this is indeed a goat. Good eyesight Jay.” She grinned at her friend, or at least a woman she had come to see as a friend.

That got a wry look crossing Jay’s face however and she slowly crossed her arms over her chest, raising her brows. “…Why do you have a goat?” She stressed, giving it a once over.

It was a rather big goat too, no way was Ara comfortably lifting it without the Force and it was almost black except for some white patches under its belly and around the eyes with an impressive set of horns.

It had a bell tied around its neck with a rope.

Glancing down at the unhappy bugger in question, who Ara would swear was giving her an unhappy pout of all things, Ara shrugged. “Cause its the wild hunt soon and I gotta slit its throat. But I figured I’d be nice and bring it with me now so I can spoil it for a few days. It deserves some niceness.” She stated cheerfully.

Drawing a blank at the unexpected answer, Jay opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again then shook her head. “You…”

Shrugging and cursing when the goat squirmed, Ara tightened the hold on the animal. “That’s how my planet does it. I’m gonna slit its throat, bleed it into a bowl, add some of the meat and the heart and cook the rest. And the horns I have to carve of course,” Ara wrinkled her nose. “I’m not doing the blood blotting though, I’d rather not have the smell linger and my little statues are made of marble so they don’t get ruined, that shits porous and I don’t want the blood to get stuck in it.” She shuddered.

Running a hand over her face, Jay snorted before shrugging. “Alright, fair enough, every planet has their traditions… are you gonna be able to eat all that though?” She asked, honestly curious.

Grimacing, Ara gave a little helpless shrug. “Not really, I generally donate to the kitchen when I’m in temple. Snow didn’t want to join me for this, he says listening to a goat screaming is a bit much for him, which I get. I figured I would go by the barracks later with some of the stew I’m gonna m-wait, you want to come?” She turned hopeful.

Having her own celebration, Jay thought on that before shrugging. “Depends on the day but I wouldn’t mind if you want company. I know you’re a decent cook.” She tacked on, snorting when the smaller woman perked up.

“Twenty first, its the day of the wild hunt and the day I do the goat in. The other days are for me and Snow but as I said, he doesn’t want to be there for goat death.”

Grinning, Jay nodded. “You know, I’m free that day. Sure, I’ll come for your Wild hunt and traditions. Sort of curious on how you decorate I have to admi-” Jay didn’t get to finish her words as the goat suddenly broke from Ara’s grip and ran down the hall.

Both ladies traded looks, Jay amused and Ara horrified before they ran after it, Jay wanting to help her friend and Ara desperate to stop the goat before it either A) tried to eat someones robe or B) found the Gardens.

Seasons Blessing indeed.

Jaylah belongs to @robinasnyder

Sweetprincess: Din is princess, right? its not an oc?

Posted on av swmoddy

Running his bare fingers absently through Din’s soft hair, Boba quietly contemplated the farmer standing in front of him, nervously twisting her cap in her hands as she preformed her petition, wide eyed gaze staring up at Boba.

It shouldn’t really surprise him that those in a difficult situation would try to bargain with him.

Yet somehow he hadn’t expected moisture farmers coming to him in person, trying to negotiate a trade, a mutual benefit.

He had expected traders, guilds, mercenary, spies and even New Republicans considering he knew this was the homeworld of karking Luke Skywalker.

But not a single woman with a single, if large, moisture farm.

It was almost impressive, the woman had guts to come alone to him with her petition.

And a large moisture farm, even if her tools were were failing her and she needed to repair, were actually worth something. She could be generating a lot of water… if only her gear worked.

Unbidden, Boba’s covered eyes fell to Din, watching those long lashes resting against the others cheeks, the slight quiver of eyelids each time Boba’s blunt nails dragged gently at his scalp. Din was still so sensitive to touch, something Boba had no doubt came from his long years in armor.

Yet here he was, content, resting on his knees between Boba’s legs as he accepted the touches Boba knew could undo him if the man preforming them wanted to, trusting and accepting.

Likely feeling the gaze, Din opened his eyes and raised his head from the thigh, enough to blink up at Boba.

Din had of course been paying attention, for all that he had looked half a sleep, even as Princess, that awareness never truly left him.

Even now, with sleepy lidded eyes, he could see Din’s eyes abort from looking at the woman presenting her case to the king of Tatooine.

Din and his softness and his honor code, insisting he worked alone and yet somehow surrounding himself with people at the same time.

Din, who had stumbled up the ramp of Slave 1 with a scowling Bo-Katan following and her Nite Owl pet, darksaber and spear in hand, eyes empty as the vastness of space. “…Twenty percent,” Boba finally said, the woman shutting up as she stiffened, staring at Boba hopefully even as he kept looking down at Din. “Twenty percent of your overall water for two years, with ten percent of it going to food manufacturing. And I’ll give you the trade you want.” He gestured for one of his advisors.

The twi’lek stepped forward, even as the farmer bowed and scraped and stammered out a thanks.

Boba knew that Fennec would go over the report later, ensure Virla did her due and didn’t try to book something not in the deal.

Though, Virla was a former brothel slave, her loyalty, at least for now, was to Boba, of that he was certain.

But it never hurt to check of course.

Din’s lips twitched into a small, pleased smile at Boba’s deed, the sight warming the cold concave of Boba’s heart.

The deal was very good to the farmer as much as Boba and had he been Jabba, the water payment would have been a lot higher.

But Boba, running Tatooine with an iron fist and violence, would like things to actually function. If people died from starvation and dehydration, there be nothing left, his planet would crumble like the multitude of other hutt run worlds.

And it pleased him to see Din smile even so slightly, two flies, one smack.

Boba Fett was not a soft man, but he could be gentle in occasions, when the wretched he stepped in for needed it.

And for Din, his princess, who was so lost in his own head he seemed to loose himself in the maw of a too dark space, Boba could and would be gentle.

Din needed it, too used to the harshness of everyone else, even from himself, cauterized scars telling stories of the younger man’s life easily to someone experienced.

Slipping his hand out of the hair, ignoring Din’s little half whine, Boba instead slipped two fingers under the delicate beskar collar and gave a tug. “Up Princess.” He murmured, tapping his thigh with his gloved hand.

Brown eyes lit with interest and Din settled his hands on Boba’s thighs, pulling himself up as smoothly as possible and into the others lap, nuzzling his face into the neck between helmet and armor. “Buir’ika.” He sighed happily.

Resting his hand at the base of the others spine, Boba observed the gathered crowd, lips pulling up into a smirk as the regulars tried not to look and yet seemed unable not to. Pulled up in his lap, Din’s outfits had a tendency to crawl up his body, exposing more of him to wandering eyes, not that the other cared by this point.

But they knew what would happen if they were caught staring too long at Boba’s sweet Princess.

It amused Boba honestly, how no one seemed to connect Princess to Din or visa verse, despite never seeing them in the same room together. A smirking Fennec had informed him, finding a fresh bottle of booze, that the days Din was not visible in his armor, the court thought he was out hunting.

A fair assumption, Din did occasionally go out for a hunt for Boba, simply for the pleasure of it. His beroya would always be a hunter, skills honed to a knife edge, deadly and all the more beautiful for it in the older man’s eyes.

And the separation made the reunion all the sweeter when Din shed his armor and once more knelt for Boba, being such a good princess for him, pressing needily into his touch.

But at the moment he was not needy, only clingy, touch starved as always. “Princess, helmet.” Boba murmured, lips quirking at how eagerly Din obeyed the command, sitting back on Boba’s knee to ease the helmet off the others head.

It was settled to the side, safely out of the way on the left arm of the throne by Din and then he was back, burrowing his face into Boba’s neck more properly with the helmet out of the way. It almost made him chuckle, the feel of Din’s cold nose brushing against his warm neck. “Jate Princess, always so good for me.” He rumbled, feeling the other shiver against him, pressing closer.

For all the scars and dents Boba bore and bore without shame, it never failed to amaze him how much Din seemed to crave his praise.

Boba was no fool, he knew that in terms of attractiveness, there were many who’d balk at him after his stint in the sarlacc, the scars worn openly unsettling many eyes.

But it was harder to remember that when Din pressed so sweetly into his touch and looked at him with soft, wanting eyes. “Jate.” Boba repeated, simply for the pleasure of Din shivering once more.

Boba Fett was not a soft man, but yes, he could be gentle to the ones who deserved it.

Mersong – Aww, poor bby echo. Who did that to him? (I’m assuming humans but you never know). Fives is probably super protective over him!

Posted on av swmoddy

Looking to the other with a disturbed gaze, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but swish his tail nervously. “You mean to tell me the humans surface thing did that to him?” He questioned, utterly disturbed.

He had seen what the humans nets and the lines hanging down could do if accidentally caught in them but to think poor Echo had been caught by the odd ship things?

Anakin grimaced but nodded, glancing at Obi-Wan and puffing a bit up in pride unconsciously.

If they weren’t speaking about something so seriously, Obi-Wan might preen, having his mate to be like the seaweed bed he was currently weaving together for their mating for their little mating den was nice.

But as it was, they were talking about serious things and he swallowed thickly to himself. “Echo got too curious, he and Fives,” Anakin murmured quietly, filling the kelp bags he had made with the shells he had been collecting for them. Still alive, as it was foolish to eat a dead clam but gathered into the little cave Anakin would be blocking off come a day or two. “But Echo got too close, got caught in the water streams it left behind and it pulled him up and he couldn’t swim out of it so he got pulled up against the wood and the weird things that stick into the water…” Anakin grimaced heavily, not able to finish the words.

They had thought they’d loose Echo those days.

Echo had bleed so heavily, he had been so ghostly pale and his tail had been twisted so badly that Jango had outright stated that Echo’s bones might have been ruined inside of him.

Fives hadn’t left the others side since then, sticking to his side and Anakin couldn’t blame him.

Fives and Echo had a mating bond more than a friend or family bond and even now, Anakin would be in stitches himself if Obi-Wan…

No, best not to think about that.

Shaking his head, Obi-Wan settled back against the cave wall, long tendrils of seaweed floating up as he wasn’t actively working.

Since they were in a cave though, they didn’t move, the water currents not currently directing inside it, so Obi-Wan could sit for a few moments and just consider it. “…I hate humans.” He finally settled on, shaking his head.

Obi-Wan let out a small grunt of agreement before swimming over, pecking Obi-Wan on the lips. “Same. All they do is harm us,” He whispered, stroking Obi-Wan’s face with gentle hands, smiling when the other pressed into his touch. “But they aren’t here. Only me and you are.” He stated tenderly.

That got him a soft hum of joy, Obi-Wan nuzzling softly at his hands before outright letting go of the temporary bed he was making for their comfort. Reaching up, he pulled Anakin down and kissed his mate on the lips, rubbing his thumbs tenderly over the others cheeks.

It was meant to be a brief kiss.

Anakin didn’t let it be, pressing his mate into the rock as he slid his arms around the plush cold water mer, rubbing gently at the soft belly and sides with a soft hum against the others mouth, closing his eyes as he enjoyed it.

Jango had once stated, when Anakin asked, that he too once had the blubber but coming out to the tropics meant that he hadn’t needed it.

The water here were much warmer after all, so Obi-Wan, with his body acclimating to his new environment, would eventually loose the delightful soft blubber that Anakin honestly adored. He kind of wanted to bite it, just to see how it feel.

But one, that was kind of rude and two, Anakin just knew that Obi-Wan would take revenge.

It might be worth it though.

But at that moment though, kissing the other mer was more alluring to Anakin as he continued running his hands over the others skin and scales, delighting in the reciprocation from his omega, his Obi-Wan.

‘Maybe if I feed him enough, he can remain nice and plush.’ Anakin’s fins quivered happily at the absent thought as he nipped gently at Obi-Wan’s bottom lip, pulling back to smile at the tussled and now pouty looking Obi-Wan from the kiss swollen lips.

Obi-Wan buys his Padawan a fun animal hoodie in Light Through the Cracks. He also does some slicing to find out about Palpatine.

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Humming faintly under his breath, Obi-Wan continued quietly typing away at his terminal as the small, warm shape cuddled against his side.

Anakin had fallen asleep hours ago and technically, Obi-Wan should have carried his padawan to his bed.

But he knew that if he did that, if he separated the boy from his side now, Anakin would surely wake up and that would mean that he’d be awake for hours before he managed to fall asleep once more, which meant that Anakin wouldn’t be in his best shape for tomorrows classes and chores.

Glancing at him, Obi-Wan’s lips twitched into a soft smile.

Despite his outburst about Obi-Wan’s frog hoodie, Anakin had been a bit envious about the soft comfort cloth, even stealing it once in a while to wear when Obi-Wan wasn’t.

And while he strictly didn’t mind, Obi-Wan wanted to wear his own hoodie too.

Which was why Obi-Wan had gone out, with Luminara as leaving the temple was a bit out of the healers comfort line without company.

Which was fair, Obi-Wan wasn’t fully healed, his mind still had pockmarks in it and if he had a relapse while outside the temple…

That would not be pretty, all those people without shields around their mind.

So with Luminara at his side, Obi-Wan had gone shopping, coming away with a child sized hoodie of a desert fox native to Tatooine, one Obi-Wan had seen while on the planet actually.

It had the largest of ears for its little body Obi-Wan had ever seen, white legs ending in large paws,  and a small beige body, golden in the sun as its black snout quivered as it stared at Obi-Wan with black eyes as it bushy, large tail swished in the air.

The hoodie was based on that fox for sure, the ears so large it needed structure inside it to hold themselves up and Obi-Wan suspected with a few washes, the ears would start looping down, from the elbow to the wrist, the hoodie was white and so was the pouch on the belly and most amusing of all, it had a tail.

It wasn’t furry like the real creature would be, the company that made the hoodie not wanting it to shed, but it was slightly fuzzy to touch at least and at the moment, resting in Anakin’s lap as he slept against Obi-Wan’s side.

Anakin looked adorable in it.

Shifting slightly, Obi-Wan pulled the blanket that had slid down the boy’s legs further up with the Force, smiling to himself. ‘How he can sleep comfortably I have no idea.’ He mused, marveling at the youth.

He should really tuck the other down on the couch.

But shifting more than he already had would wake Anakin, something Obi-Wan had experienced twice already.

So, he just accepted the situation, waiting for Anakin’s mind to go into the deepest sleep as he continued working away at his terminal, eyes narrowing as he finally accessed the file he had been working on for the last few hours.

Sheev Palpatine’s personal voting history.

Obi-Wan was compiling everything he could.

NO one got away with hurting Obi-Wan’s padawan, not without Obi-Wan making sure it would never happen again.

Show white purity: Now that they got together will Obi Wan be a little more confident?

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Looking up when he heard a hissing noise, Anakin felt wide and involuntary smile stretch his face as Obi-Wan stepped out into the quarters with a billow of steam slipping out from behind him as bare feet touched the floor.

They had gotten back to the temple less than five hours ago, having been away for two full month dealing with squabbling politicians and an exhausted princess regent for all that time with a full week of travel each way.

It hadn’t left them much time for much, especially not leisure when each day was spent keeping the peace and they both went to bed exhausted.

Still together of course but just as someone warm and comfortable to rest against, Anakin often waking to Obi-Wan’s cold toes pressed to his shins.

But they were home now, they had delivered their verbal report to the council an hour ago with another pair coming in right after them and Anakin had gotten a minor start on their written report for the Archives after his shower.

And with what he was seeing now, he was grateful he took a shower first.

Because he got to watch a soft and comfortable looking Obi-Wan coming out from the fresher from what was clearly a warm shower by the steam and pink skin he could see, still toweling his hair dry, wearing a beautiful baby blue, cotton camisole with soft pink details that looked like butterflies to Anakin.

Obi-Wan sported matching shorts to them, no lace in sight and while Obi-Wan did liked to look pretty with lace, this was purely a sleeping set Anakin knew. He looked adorable in them with the spaghetti straps and low neckline giving Anakin an unobstructed view of the others shoulders and clavicle, to see the pale skin and freckles that was normally hidden away.

And he could also see the soft flush of warm skin that had been cleaned in warm water.

When the flush darkened and spread on that pale skin, he looked up, meeting green eyes peering at him shyly from under the towel but not hiding, Obi-Wan smiling at him sweetly, the mouth framed by the beard Anakin had come to love feeling when they kissed.

Obi-Wan no longer hid from Anakin, feeling safe and confidant in the others presence and when the blond looked so obviously at him.

Silently, Anakin lifted one arm, waiting as Obi-Wan pulled the towel off to chuck back into the fresher, the redhead making his way over on quiet feet.

He slipped under easily and pressed against Anakin’s body, shower warm and nice smelling as Anakin closed his arm around him, nuzzling into the water darkened hair that had turned golden during their mission due to the sun they had been exposed to.

An approving noise escaped Obi-Wan and Anakin flushed when he noted Obi-Wan peering at the half started report on the terminal resting on Anakin’s lap.

The noise had him shrugging meekly, Anakin smiled sheepishly. “Figured I might as well, its just the bare bones for now though.” He mumbled quietly.

Humming, Obi-Wan pressed a kiss to the exposed part of Anakin’s collarbone where his own sleep tunic hung low. “Well done… but for now, I think we can wait until tomorrow Anakin.” Obi-Wan whispered, cuddling up, his warm body easily felt through Anakin’s own thin sleep clothes.

And hell, Anakin would never say no to a soft, warm and drowsy Obi-Wan, floating his terminal onto the caff table to nuzzle, passing the redhead the remote and pulling one of the fluffy blankets they kept while pushing some pillows into the arm of the couch with the Force.

Carefully, he pulled Obi-Wan’s legs up and into his lap, Obi-Wan half sitting coiled against the arm of the couch and half against Anakin as he started flickering through channels, letting Anakin manhandle the both of them around.

Finally Anakin settled once both were half reclined on the couch, Anakin behind Obi-Wan, resting his head on Obi-Wan’s upper arm, his own stuck beneath Obi-Wan’s body and the other resting on the redhead’s hip, rubbing slowly as Obi-Wan finally found a silly soap opera they had watched a million times before and yet could stand to watch once more.

Work could wait until tomorrow.

Right now they could enjoy each others warmth.

Ani goes full caring mode in Secrets we Carry. Palpatine is sniffing around too:

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Rinsing the others hair out carefully with the cup, Anakin sent his drowsy master a small smile as his longish hair dripped soap and water into the bowl below him.

Due to his healing injuries and the current painkillers he was on that left him not only sleepy but dizzy, Obi-Wan couldn’t handle standing in a shower for long at the moment and sonic would not be kind to his at the moment sensitive skin due to residual hormones. But Obi-Wan, quietly and a bit shifty, had complained about his hair and beard feeling gross.

Tacky the man had said.

Anakin had pounced on the opportunity.

Offered to wash the others hair as Anakin had done long ago when Obi-Wan had both of his hands broken on a mission, his neck length hair and beard coated with mud.

And to his relief, Obi-Wan had accepted after only a bit of hesitance, his desire for cleanness and comfort outweighing his thoughts on being a ‘burden’.

Oh, Anakin knew how Obi-Wan’s brain functioned.

He would see this as being a nuisance to whoever helped him if he outright asked, which was why Anakin had themed it as Anakin not having anything better to do.

Cody had helped by finding a larger, empty ammo crate that Anakin tipped onto its side to settle the water bowl on while Helix had shoved an empty bed next to the one Obi-Wan occupied for more space, so Obi-Wan could lay in bed still and just carefully tip his head off the side where Anakin sat and washed the others hair.

Running his flesh thumb gently over the others temple, Anakin smile widened at Obi-Wan when he gave a drowsy little noise in return, blinking blearily up at him in return. For all that he didn’t want to be a ‘burden’ to anyone, Obi-Wan looked content at the moment.

Maybe it was because Anakin was touching him, gently scrubbing away dirt, rubbing at his scalp or maybe it was the warm contentment of the medbay.

Or maybe it was the current mood of the medbay.

He could feel several troopers watching them and from the corner of his eyes he could see a smiling Waxer, the troopers still in the medbay contently relaxing after the battle for the Negotiator.

Seeing their General settled and content for the moment, enjoying what could amount to a bit of pampering with how much care Anakin was putting into washing the others hair was doing good for them too after all the weeks of seeing Obi-Wan stagger and drop around them.

It was a good change from the gaunt and tired man that had collapsed in a hallway and given himself a nosebleed due to his fucked up genetics.

Anakin had no idea why stewjoni people had developed such a thing, he was sure that once it was made for survival, perhaps in lean times when the mood dropped where adults tried to keep their children feed to avoid malnourished impact on children.

But it wasn’t useful anymore.

Especially not to a Force sensitive, they were suppose to eat more calories due to the way channeling Force through themselves burned calories and liquids. There was a reason Helix had kept Obi-Wan on so many Iv’s throughout the days after all and now, thanks to the fucking droidbait scum, Obi-Wan was back on it, his arm bandaged in a blue, sticky bandage since it made Obi-Wan nauseous to look at it.

Running another cup of water through the others hair, more to be certain than for anything else, Anakin watched how Obi-Wan’s eyes closed again, the soft touch of Anakin washing his hair making him even more lethargic.

It was a good look on the other, despite once more wearing medbay scrubs, eyes closed and comfortable over the two beds.

Picking up the waiting towel, Anakin wrapped in the others hair and started slowly rubbing, not wanting to be too vigorous and make Obi-Wan feel energized.

No, Obi-Wan needed rest and it soothed Anakin’s frenetic emotions to see the other rest, the image of Obi-Wan on his knees, bleeding on the durasteel floor after fighting with with bone weary tiredness already in him being replaced by this.

A soft, comfortable and sleepy Obi-Wan.

Much better.

so for floralskin I have a prompt. palps doesn’t realize that Ani has already found his soulmate so he thinks that Ani is all hung up on Padme still. So he casually mentions that there might be a way to link their souls through a force bond that would make them soul mates and override whoever her soul mate really is. so it harkens to the opera scene where he is all like «that is not something Jedi can do» but he doesn’t realize that the interest that Ani is feeling is really horror at the idea.

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Pulling his soulmate with him, holding onto the others hand, Anakin felt his heart throb with panic as he almost ran out of the theater he had been invited to.

He wanted to be anywhere but here, anywhere but where the Chancellor was, desperately stuffing his wild panic behind his shields along with his fear and anger as he clung to Rex hand, pulling his soulmate with him.

Rex didn’t even try to stop him, though he was sending a soothing, worried emotion through their bond, the other blond recognizing that Anakin needed to be away and therefore waiting to question the other man.

Finally though, in the darkened parking hall where Anakin had stashed the skycar earlier, Anakin slowed to a stop, shuddering before he turned and pulled Rex to him, pulling the helmet off with with the Force.

Rex might have had something to say about that, if it wasn’t for the desperate look on Anakin’s face as he reached up with his flesh hand and started gently rubbing the flowers mimicking the scar on Anakin’s own face.

Recognizing the desperation, Rex leaned into the touch, settling his hands on Anakin’s waist so he could rub slowly with his thumbs in the V of the others hips, murmuring quiet, reassuring words.

Shuddering, Anakin let out a little hiccup before burrowing forward and pressing Rex under his chin, holding onto the other tightly as he nosed at Rex short shaven blond hair. “…Cyare?” Rex whispered into the others throat.

“No one’s taking you away from me, I won’t let them. They can’t, our souls fit together.” Anakin whimpered out, Rex blinking heavily as he shifted his hands to the others back and started rubbing, both bemused and concerned.

What in the world had happened with the Chancellor?

They were suppose to be watching some kind of weird play, a charity thing for the Senators to pretend they cared about clones that Senator Amidala had managed to talk a troupe of actors into with actual vode appearing in the play, giving their own spin on old, classical warrior roles.

So why was Anakin…

Didn’t matter, at least not right now, right now Anakin needed reassurance and Rex focused on that, knowing that Anakin needed to feel him as he continued rubbing, cooing quietly in comfort. “You’re right, our souls fit together. I carry your flowers and you carry mine,” He assured quietly. “Cuun manda slanar tome.” Rex whispered tenderly, smiling when Anakin instantly eased his tight grip just enough to peer down.

Swallowing thickly, blue, slightly wet eyes peered at him. “That’s… mando’a… right?” He questioned quietly. Anakin was good with languages but only the ones he had learned when he was young, having a harder time picking up on new languages as an adult.

Thankfully, huttese were similar enough to rodian and aqualish, meaning it was easier to learn those when he had tried.

Rex tugged off a glove on one hand and reached up, cupping Anakin’s cheek. “It is. It means, our souls go together. So even should one of us fall, ee are simply marching before each other, but our souls are still entwined, still together even in death. Even vode know that.” He rubbed gently.

Nuzzling the hand, feeling the blaster calluses against his skin, Anakin let out a low noise and pressed a kiss to the inside of the others palm. “Don’t say that. Even vode, don’t put yourself down like that…” He mumbled, hands now tracing the blooms of Rex face with more affection and less desperation.

Rex just shrugged. “Some will always see us as simply ‘clones’. But I know you don’t. I can feel you, my dearest tranyc jetii.” Rex reverently ran his thumb beneath Anakin’s eye, trying not to feel flustered when Anakin pressed another kiss to his palm.

“Tranyc?” Anakin questioned quietly, now calmer as he made a mental note to talk to Obi-Wan, get his opinion before he spoke with the council.

“It quite literally means star-burned…” Rex face turned mischievous. “Or sunny. My sunny Jedi.” He teased gently, grinning when Anakin’s cheek pinked slightly.

Despite the teasing name, Anakin smiled, drawing Rex towards the skycar as he took the helmet out of the air, handing it back Rex. “Tease…”

“Only for you. Just for you ner jetii.” Rex countered quietly, tucking his helmet beneath his arm as he followed.