injury

Would you consider publishing a frank talk on here too? You can take this as a prompt if you want but I’d like to find it on tumblr too, its actually easier for me to get on tumblr than AO3 due to my family.

Posted on av swmoddy

Setting the systems into autopilot now that their location was set, Boba glanced at Shand in the co-pilot seat, giving her slight head tilt, a signal to make herself scarce.

She gave him a look in return but still got up, heading down the ladder.

With her gone, Boba took a deep but silent breath and turned his chair fully, tilting his back to look up at the still as a statue mando standing behind him, visor locked on the beams of hyperlights outside the cockpit view.

Boba quietly observed him for a moment, mentally cataloging what he could see without the other moving.

Shoulders held high but chin tilted down, arms hanging down his sides but leather covered hands bunched into fists, a slump to his spine…

From the short moments they had interacted, Boba was pretty certain he already had a read on the other man but this could go possibly, horribly wrong. Still, he sat up in his chair, on purpose making more noises than he normally would, just to watch the man twitch, attention drawn away from the view to Boba.

If he wasn’t so used to reading helmets, he wouldn’t have been able to tell the other was looking at him. “You took a few nasty shots back on Tython,” Boba stated, ignoring how the other tensed. “I got a medical case up here. I’m gonna turn this chair around and when I turn back, you’re going to have undressed enough for me to take care of it, ru’suvari?” He tacked on the mando as sternly as he could, watched how the other suddenly grew taunt as a wire threatening to snap.

For a moment, Boba wondered if the other was going to punch him.

Might even have deserved it, Boba was gambling as he kept his face stern, peering up at the beroya.

It worked though, the other went lax, even his hands dropping open as he nodded quietly.

“Jate.” Boba pretended not to see how the other jerked to attention at the mando’a but put it to mind as he turned his chair, staring at the lights streaming outside, waiting.

He heard the soft shifts of the other moving, the clack of his spear being placed to the wall, the light clicks of armor latching being undone and the clear clang of beskar being set down along with soft hisses when the beroya shifted in a way that pained him.

Boba had to clench his hands down on the arms of his chair to avoid turning, taking deep, measured breaths through his nose to keep calm.

As a young man, he hadn’t been soft, hadn’t been kind.

Compassionate.

The galaxy had made him a hard man, the death of his father and his stint in prison and later on working for the Imperials and Vader in particular had sealed the deal on that hardness. It was what had allowed him to survive as long as he had.

Even when he had broken out of the prison and wiped the terminal for his record, when he had found the deep voice of Mace Windu on his folder, advocating for Boba, advocating for the child to be sent rehabilitation at a youth facility, advocating for leniency.

It had been denied.

The Jedi had tried to advocate for Boba, only to be denied.

It was such a strange thought and Boba had remembered just standing there, staring at the screen for a long few moments before finally wiping every trace of Boba Fett from the Republic’s systems.

Don’t get him wrong, he still hated Mace Windu with a passion that rivaled suns for the death of his father.

But… hearing an enemy, a man that he had earnestly tried to murder even at a young age, plead for leniency for Boba…

It had struck a cord, a cord he carried with him but buried during the age of the Empire. Sympathizing with Jedi only brought danger at the worst and trouble at the best in those days.

After the sarlacc…

The kindness of the tuskens had been what saved Boba, the Black Krayt clan taking him in and caring for him. Apparently surviving a karking sarlacc earned him respect enough for them to help him and later on him being actually willing to learn from them, not just their language but their ways.

Without them, Boba would have died under the suns of Tatooine.

Escaping the sarlacc had been one thing, the acid and the time inside it leaving him weak, his mind broken and rattled and his body wasted, the suns and the heat would have been another matter.

Boba knew he wasn’t the same person regardless, coming out of there.

Compassion and kindness had saved him, had resonated with that old voice that had tried to give Boba leniency.

It resonated now, with this bounty hunter that had given him back his father’s armor. With this man, who had lost his Force sensitive son, who had been ready to fight and defend the armor only to give it back when proof of its ownership had been shown.

And even more so, the other man was a mandalorian.

Something old and almost forgotten by Boba, something associated with his father, shiny beskar so bright and noticeable that Boba had no choice but to remember his buir and the words the man had taught him.

Had the other had blue on his armor with the silver, Boba might have had a small heart attack.

“You can look.” The gravelly, modulated voice came.

Boba turned his chair and couldn’t help the hiss of sympathy that escaped between his teeth as he got a good look, the other having removed his chest piece, pauldrons and cape, his upper kute opened and pulled down, the arms and chest hanging down the back of his arse and legs.

The mandalorian was covered in dark red bruises, the edges already turning purple and some of blaster shots had hit hard enough for there to be bloody edges. They looked vicious and Boba got to his feet, his spurs making a methodical sound on the durasteel as he moved around the other man, quietly cursing himself as he had to stand on his toes to get to the medical pack in the upper cabinet. ‘I’m moving this kark to the bottom.’ He thought with annoyance.

If he was injured himself, reaching for this kark would be a bitch and a half.

He glanced back to the man, finding that the other bounty hunter had turned with him, keeping him in view. Most likely unwilling to give Boba his back just yet.

‘Tough shit, he’s gonna have to at some point.’ Boba snarked internally.

He knew the other had taken a few hits to the back. “Sit. It will make things easier on both of us.” He motioned to the pilot seat, watching as the other sat down gingerly after a moment of hesitation.

Boba didn’t take it personally.

Clearly, this man was used to being hunted, vigilant and untrusting of those around him.

Not a healthy way of living.

Cracking open the case, Boba stationed it on the ledge of the dashboard so he could rifle through it easier as he removed his gloves first.

Then he bought out the cleaning antibacterial wipes, a bacta tube and the bruising cream.

Quietly he set to work, ignoring how the other was pressing back into seat, the tense muscles trembling under his fingers as he worked. ‘Touch starvation…’ Boba mused, even as he tried to ignore it.

What he couldn’t ignore was how slim the other really was under the armor, the cauterized scars he could see, the trim waist…

Hell, whoever called this man for cyare was a lucky shabuir.

A snatched waist like that, coupled with the muscles that proved his profession and proved him as an ambush predator more than a power tank… well, it was something Boba would have pursued doggedly back at Jabba’s palace.

Someone to blow the stress and pressure away with.

Made him curious about what was under the helmet if he was very honest.

But right now, Boba mind was on providing relief for a lost man, a man that hadn’t asked for help.

Maybe the other didn’t expect aid, maybe he was so used to the galaxy turning on him that he didn’t think any would be offered without a price.

It was a depressing thought for someone as honorable as this man and Boba couldn’t help but let his fingers linger on the edge of a pink cauterized scar with rich dark skin around it, wondering mentally about it.

Self punishment or lack of bacta?

As reckless as this man had behaved, flying into the mouth of a damn krayt dragon, letting the shots of blasters hit him…

Boba would guess the latter unfortunately. “…Risking yourself needlessly is a dangerous business,” He stated quietly, feeling the man tense up. “Your foundling needs you, leaving him without anyone if you were to march ahead of him.” He stated intently.

The other said nothing for long minutes as Boba put bacta then bruise cream to injured areas. “…I know…I just…” The other tilted his head back against the pilot chair, looking at the ceiling. It gave Boba the curious view of a long line of throat with dark stubble, the bobbing of an adam’s apple as the other man swallowed.

Boba continued working as the other continued staring at the ceiling. “I won’t tell you to stop. But for the future, when we get him back,” When, not if and Boba could feel the other stare at him at the choice of words, at the coinfidence in them. Boba just couldn’t imagine this man doing anything but succeeding. “You will need to be more careful beroya.” Boba reached for the gauze in the case.

“…Djarin,” He almost dropped the gauze, head snapping back to the other bounty hunter, his own body tense. The other cleared his throat slightly, almost nervous like, his hands tapping at the arms of the seat. “My name, its… Djarin.”

Staring at the other, understanding what he was given as the other was a Child of the Watch, Boba slowly nodded. “Su cuy’gar Djarin, ni cuy’ Fett.” He stated quietly, watching as Djarin slowly relaxed his hands on the arms of the seat.

Carefully, telegraphing his movements, he reached up to take the others shoulder, pulling Djarin forward slowly. “…I’m going to take a look at your back now, check if it needs salve to. Tayli’bac?” Boba stated softly, waiting until he got a small nod.

With that permission, granted easier than he thought possible, Boba moved until he was beside the chair, looking down at the dark expanse of the other’s back, breath catching at the display of muscles.

He was damn lucky the other couldn’t see his face right now.

There were bruises there, not as many or as dark as the ones in the front though.

It seemed Djarin’s chest had taken most of the punishment.

Nodding to himself, Boba moved to in front of him again and bent slightly down, carefully wrapping the gauze around the other bounty hunters chest and the top of his stomach, to prevent the salve and bacta from smearing everywhere.

This also brought him closer to the other, his breath washing over Djarin’s bare shoulder as he worked.

He noted goosebumps rising as he worked, the others hands once more digging into the arms of the chair.

Touch starvation could be a hell of a thing unfortunately.

Boba had to fight the urge to linger, instead straightening and patting the other lightly on the shoulder. “Jate, that should be better. Got some analgesic patch you could use.” He stated quietly.

Djarin slowly got this feet, hesitated then nodded, accepting a patch that he put on himself, Boba watching the other apply it to his upper arm.

Maybe after the child was rescued, maybe something could be done about that touch starvation.

Maybe.

Translations
Ru’suvari = Understood

Jate = Good

Buir = Parent

Beroya = Bounty hunter

Cyare = beloved

Shabuir = jerk but stronger, potentially asshole

Su cuy’gar = Hello, literally means *You’re still alive.*

Ni cuy’ Fett = I am Fett

Tayli’bac? = Okay= Understand? (can be very aggressive)

-dangerousgalaxy is Cody and the others alright? And how do the galaxy at large take the news of the coop?

Posted on av swmoddy

Coughing sharply as he pushed the desk of off himself, Cody glanced around the room with only one eye, cursing as he covered up the other. He could feel a warm leaking over half his face and he could only hope that his eye hadn’t fully ruptured but was just damaged and the heat was a mix of blood and the small fires around the room.

‘This is why we wear helmets cadets.’ He thought dryly, glancing up at the broken apart office above him, taking notice of the dust in the air, the smell of burning duracrete and the wind barely blowing in the opened window of the Chancellor office.

He’d been lucky when he noticed that that shit stain named Palpatine’s body had started to glow. If he hadn’t noticed, he would have been directly in the blast and instead he had managed to push the heavy and large desk over and hidden on the other side.

Thanks to that, the desk had absorbed the majority of the impact instead of Cody’s body, with what little else having been taken on by his armor.

The blast had taken out the walls though, collapsed the floor and Cody could barely see through the smoke that the ceiling on the office had also fallen in but Cody had survived, even if he was aching like hell from falling through the floor with the stupid Chancellor desk.

Turning towards the door, Cody let out a small curse as he took in the fact that the debris had clearly damaged the door.

He would need someone to clear the way to get out of the office, that or climb up… well, a jetpack could also work but he’d rather just have some of the troopers clear the way so the door could be opened honestly.

Jetting up the hole without precision could lead him to slamming into the roof and he had enough damage done to himself already, thank you.

Likely had a concussion too if he was right.

“Vod’alor!” A voice called out above him, Cody barely recognizing it as one of his vode even as he was sure the person was shouting and inwardly he cursed. So not only just eye damage but potentially also ear damage.

Just great.

Instead of sulking over it, he called back. “Down here, I’m injured but not critical.” He called back and watched as Waxer suddenly peered over the edge with wide eyes, bringing a comm unit up to talk into.

He couldn’t hear what the other was saying though, the man’s lips moving fast to read either and that just confirmed it for Cody. Ear damage for sure from his closeness to the blast.

Finally, Waxer spoke to him again and Cody sighed deeply. “Waxer, louder, I can barely hear you.” He called up, watching at the other’s eyes widened and he brought the comm back to his lips.

“I’m sorry sir, I was informing Helix about the damage,” His lieutenant finally called down as Cody peered up at him. “Team Delta is on its way to you, they’re gonna blow in the wall, it will be easier than getting to work on all… that.” He looked doubtfully at the rubble covering the doorway.

Looking to it, Cody had to agree and it wasn’t like they could do more damage to Cody than the original blast already had, as long as they used a small detonation on the wall. Still, he grunted and got to work on pushing the desk to the other wall, to get a barrier between himself and the coming blast.

He would rather keep the damage to himself minimum.

He also mourned his new cloak.

It was all in tatters now, tears and holes all over it from the blast and falling down and he fingered awkwardly with long strip of its remains, aware of Waxer keeping an eye on him as he settled himself behind the desk for now. It had been a gift from the rest of the 212th and despite how embarrassed it had made him initially… well, it had been nice, felt warm.

He’d been looking forward to showing it to Obi-Wan.

‘Maybe I could get a new one?’ He perked up slightly at the thought. Cody was Vod’alor after all, technically, he was the new ruler… kind of?

They had done a coup, taken over Coruscant but that didn’t mean that everyone would just accept thei- ‘And who is gonna argue?’ A dry tone of voice piped up in Cody’s head, not so unlike Obi-Wan when he was being sarcastic. ‘Against an army as big as the vode? All these soft core people and Senators think they’re big until you give them a black eye and show how powerless they are.’

Cody shifted a bit behind the desk, a tad uncomfortable with the thought.

But it wasn’t wrong.

They weren’t done either, they had initially cleared out the most pressing of the vermin, but now that left the rest of the Senate, the core planets, the mid-rims and the outer rims.

He already knew, thanks to Obi-Wan, that the outer rims governed themselves mostly, with little concern of what happened in the core, due to how little they came to the outer rims.

It was why slavery and illegal things thrived so well there, despite slavery being illegal in the core.

His lips pursed.

Thanks to Fox, he knew how many underground slavery rings there were on even Coruscant and how little true that really was.

‘But the vode are many. We could change things… first we mop up at ‘home’, we get our Jedi safe… and then we clean up the rest of the galaxy.’ He narrowed his eyes faintly, jumping in surprise as the wall suddenly paved in, a blast sounding into the room.

Shifting, Cody peeked over the edge of the desk and grunted in relief as white and orange stepped into the room, followed by white and blue.

Time to surrender himself to a medics tender hands… ugh.

Carefully, Cody got up and moved towards them, hand still covering his injured eye as he gave his men a grim smile. ‘I hope Obi-Wan is doing better than I am…’

More sensitivetorejection plzzzz (more fluff teehee)

Posted on av swmoddy

Bowing his head in thanks to the medic, Qui-Gon watched the woman leave before turning his attention back to his padawan, carefully drawing the other’s left hand into his to have a point of physical contact, the other equipped with an IV line still.

He tried not to wince at the sight of his too small padawan in a large, sterile bed, the other looking far too much like a broken doll than a human at that moment for Qui-Gon’s comfort.

Obi-Wan had unfortunately suffered a few broken ribs due to the debris being blown around, some blood loss and he had a head wound filled with shrapnel, it had caused the medics to shave the left side of Obi-Wan’s head.

It left his poor padawan looking quite odd, copper hair on one side and nothing on the other side.

If it wasn’t for the sickly paleness of his skin and the swollen state of his eyes, one could mistake it for an odd hair cutting accident or a youngling cutting their own hair.

Qui-Gon wasn’t unfamiliar to children cutting their own hair unfortunately.

But coupled with the eyes and his skin, Obi-Wan looked the state of the victim he was.

But he was alive.

Qui-Gon knew that a few people had not survived the trauma of the shop exploding.

From the gossip he heard in the hall, it had been some sort of food place, a gas container had apparently been the cause of this entire disaster.

An accident.

Squeezing his padawan’s hand, Qui-Gon let out a deep sigh and looked to the wall with a small frown on his face.

He could imagine why Obi-Wan had stopped, he was quite aware that his padawan was part of the unifying Force. A little glimpse into the future, a little vision slipping past his eyes…

Qui-Gon didn’t like visions and precognition, exactly for the reason Obi-Wan was now laid out in bed and injured.

It didn’t always help and sometimes could be outright damaging.

There would have been next to nothing they could have done about the exploding shop and if they had continued walking, Obi-Wan might not have gotten as hurt as he did.

Normally, he would have told Obi-Wan to focus on the now.

Normally.

But Obi-Wan wasn’t normal.

His ADHD made what was a gentle guidance seem so much worse, Obi-Wan could take Qui-Gon’s gentle direction to try and focus on the now as a rejection of Obi-Wan’s very nature and that…

That could not come to pass.

Teens that felt rejected felt the need to hide and lie, Qui-Gon could not have that, not with Obi-Wan.

His condition made it imperative that he trusted Qui-Gon, should something go wrong, he must feel that he could at the very least go to Qui-Gon, so they could work out what was going on.

Yoda was skilled with precognition but he was also old and as much as Qui-Gon loved his grandmaster, the prospect of sending Obi-Wan to Yoda, who could be rigid and unbending about his own ways was setting of warning signals in Qui-Gon’s head.

Obi-Wan’s condition meant he needed a gentler hand.

Someone used to being careful but was also aware of precognition enough to teach.

Rubbing Obi-Wan’s hand, Qui-Gon frowned deeply before sighing and glancing at the dimmed sun filtering in through the window. “…Guess I’ll be sending Yan a message.” He mused a tad darkly to himself.

It wasn’t that he didn’t still care for his old master but he and Yan…

Well, they were very different people and the last stages of Qui-Gon’s apprenticeship had been a tad fraught.

But, Yan knew how to be careful, of that Qui-Gon was sure.

A man that while not outright cared for younglings, could cradle them carefully and sooth someone in need of it. And Yan was also part of the unifying Force.

If supplied with the correct information on Obi-Wan’s condition, Yan would potentially be the best choice.

‘If only to stop something like this from happening again.’ Qui-Gon reached up with his free hand and gently stroked Obi-Wan’s pale cheek, smiling sadly down at his padawan.

sorry if this repeats idk if the first one went through lol. can we see some more sensitivetorejecton? how does their mission go? (hopefully fluffy)😃

Posted on av swmoddy

Coughing harshly as awareness hit Qui-Gon like a ton of painful bricks, the Jedi blinked heavily as the sounds of crying and yelling sounded, his head throbbing as he tried to remember what in the world had happened.

His last memory had been…

“Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan.” He rasped, reaching out through their bond for his padawan as he struggled to sit up, pushing wood and duracrete off himself as he sat up, groaning in pain.

They had been walking down the street among the crowd of beings, their mission done, they were suppose to go home and then Obi-Wan had paused and looked around with confusion.

The boy must have felt something or noticed something with his hyperfocus, something Qui-Gon had not noticed, because a moment later, panic had crossed his face and he had opened his mouth.

It had been too late though.

The world had promptly exploded into a million pieces, wood and duracrete of the shops around them flying and something had hit Qui-Gon hard, sending him into the real of unconsciousness.

Struggling up on his knees, Qui-Gon looked around, barely recognizing the street from before, debris everywhere along with fire.

The shop Obi-Wan had paused in front of was fully gone, a crater left behind where it had once been.

The sight was enough for Qui-Gon to understand the gist of it.

The shop had exploded, whatever it had been and now there were injured and dead people all around the damaged shops.

And Obi-Wan was no where in sight, his padawan was unconscious and Qui-Gon had to find him.

Shaking as he struggled to his feet, Qui-Gon wrapped one arm around his ribs while scanning the area. He knew where he had last seen Obi-Wan, but if the force of the explosion had sent hi-wait, that boot…

Qui-Gon struggled towards what looked like half a wall, a familiar pair of boots sticking out from under it, stumbling over debris as people hurried around him, everyone trying to help and find others.

“Obi-Wan!” He rasped out as loudly as he could, kneeling down at the wall.

With a bit of Force as his ribes were strained already, Qui-Gon managed to push it up and away, finding his padawan laying still and pale beneath it, breathing shallowly with a thin stream of blood coming from his nose.

Cursing quietly, Qui-Gon reached out and started gingerly touching Obi-Wan’s neck, carefully testing it before breathing out in relief as he pulled the boy into a recovery position. ‘At least he hasn’t damaged his neck.’ Qui-Gon thought grimly, pausing when Obi-Wan’s little dice fell out of a damaged belt pouch.

Picking it up, Qui-Gon placed the stimming tool into his own belt pouch, knowing his padawan would want it back once he was conscious.

“Alright, hold on imp, just hold on.” Qui-Gon whispered, doing what he could as he looked around, hoping the medics and local law enforcement would come soon. His large hand rested on Obi-Wan’s forehead as Qui-Gon struggled to breath, his damaged ribs requiring him to take shallow breaths.

‘One hell of an end to a first mission.’ He couldn’t help but muse darkly to himself, blinking blood out of his eyes, likely steaming from a cut up in his hairline.

Moddy!! You can’t leave us on a cliffhanger in SweetPrincess. What happens next?? How does Boba react to seeing Din and vice versa?? Pleeeeease I gotta know 👀🥰💜

Posted on av swmoddy

There is a panicked voice echoing faintly, screams of pain and yet Din can’t quite bring himself to open his eye.

He feels so tired and sometimes the pirates get into arguments among themselves.

They’re not a well oiled crew, that’s for sure.

Just like Ranzer’s old crew when Din worked with them.

Assholes the whole lot and so are these pirates and a vicious part of Din hopes one of them kills the other, regardless who has started the fight. A bigger part of him just wants to sleep as his body throbs with pain.

In his dreams, he’s with Boba, curled together in their bed as Boba strokes Din hair and whispers soft nothings, Din’s own hands tracing the scars on Boba’s body with tender reverence.

In his dreams, he’s home.

He’s actually a bit annoyed as he hears a fleshy thump, someone hitting the wall if he was to take a guess and a male voice pleading before there’s a fleshy thump and the sound of boots pretty much running in his direction.

Din lets out a soft noise, flinching weakly at the clang of his cell door as he forces his eye open to look, wondering weakly if its one of the pirates coming to take another finger and he can’t lose himself to his dreams if that’s what’s happening.

Instead of a leering pirate or the karking demagolka captain, he’s meet with black and green as Boba drops to his knees in front of Din, throwing his helmet off his head so Din can see his scarred face and wide eyes. “Din’ika.” The man whispered shakily, reaching out to cup his face.

Letting out a low, sobbing noise of relief through cracked lips, Din leaned into the gloved hands, wishing they were bare.

Faintly he also took notice of the slight sheen of blood on Boba’s cuirass and the part of him that had been raised a warrior that he could never quite put aside, snarled in vicious satisfaction, realizing that Boba had come in guns blazing.

Boba had come for him. “Bo-” He rasped out, his voice cracking on the others name as he wheezed, his throat struggling to swallow as Boba pressed their foreheads together for just a moment with a soft murmur. Then the other leaned back, calling over his shoulder.

“Don’t talk sweetheart, let your voice rest. Russal! Get here or I swe-” What Boba was swearing was never verbalized as a young, slightly spooked looking zabrak suddenly materialized, carrying a heavy looking bag as nervous eyes looked at Din.

They widened even more and Din wondered what kind of condition he was in for the zabrak to look like that. ‘He’s kinda pretty, all yellow and black…’ Din noted faintly as the horned male settled down on the sandy ground.

He started digging through the bag, bringing out hypos and bandages and oh, this must be the medic Boba had been talking about getting on staff for them personally. For the palace alone and in particular because Din had his nasty habit of cauterizing things.

Well, that made sense.

Wait, the two were talking, Din tried to focus on what they were saying. “ -nd you need to lower his arms sir, the blood flow to them must be horrible if he’s been kept here the entire time, I’ll do what I can but the rest has to be done in the medbay of the ship we took here.” Russal spoke quickly, a slight lisp to his words.

Must be the somewhat too long canines in his mouth doing that and Din realized that his mind wasn’t tracking properly what was going on.

If it was, he would be focusing on what was going on and not random things like the fangs of the medic.

Boba’s hands closed around his arms, fiddling with the rope tying them above his head and Din whimpered quietly as he felt the brush against his finger stumps. “Shh I know Din’ika, I know sweetheart. Just a few more minutes.” Boba whispered, Din giving a small cry when his sore arms were being lowered.

Hands, unfamiliar and colder than Boba, touched his shoulder and Din flinched away from them and towards his lover, feeling the arms of the other come up around him. “Shh, shh love, let Russal work on you. I know it must hurt but let him do his job.” Boba whispered, keeping an arm around him as he bit at the fingertips of his other glove, pulling it off.

The warm hand brushing his face had Din settling slightly, nuzzling into the hand as Russal continued prodding at injuries, Din hissing when he felt a hypo being set into the meat of his shoulder.

But Boba was there, his fingers running through his hair and into the back of his head and a distant part of his mind recognized that Boba was looking for injuries with the way he was prodding at his head.

Found the mudhorn egg too on the back of his head.

The pain was receding though, Din let out a low noise as he took in that the pain was not quite disappearing but it wasn’t as sharp. The pinch of the hypo must have been some form for painkiller and Din let out a soft noise as he rested his head on Boba’s pauldron.

“There we are… just… just relax sweetheart, ner mesh’la.” Boba whispered, voice shaking slightly as he cupped the back of Din’s head, pressing his lips to Din’s forehead.

Odd, his lips almost felt chilled and after several long minutes, between hissing with pain each time Russal touched or cleaned something, Din realized that he must be feverish, his own skin burning and therefore Boba’s normally so warm lips felt cool.

“Sir? I need you to hold him. I’m gonna have to brace his leg, I can’t quite tell if its broken or twisted but I don’t like the idea of moving him without bracing it at least.” The murmur went over Din’s head but the tightening of Boba’s arms around him did not.

It made him whine quietly, only to be hushed by Boba.

There was a shift, cool hands touching below and above Din’s right knee and he only had a moment to tense up when it was suddenly straightened and pulled.

Din screamed with pain and that was the last he knew as his eyes rolled up into his head.

()()()

Boba let out a vicious curse as Din went lax in his arms, burning eyes jumping to the medic even as Russal ignored him, quickly wrapping Din’s knee up in white gauze. He flinched when he caught Boba’s eyes though. “I-I’m sorry sir, but we really couldn’t move him without giving his knee support.” He squeaked out, shaking slightly.

Breathing out, Boba nodded as he continued cuddling Din’s unconscious body, glancing back to find Fennec still keeping the captain on her knees with the blaster in the weequay’s back. The woman was snarling but there wasn’t much she could do after having been subdued by Shand and her personally trained guards.

Boba felt the urge to go over and do… something, anything towards the woman but Din took priority.

Finding his love half conscious and so dehydrated he could barely talk in the little cell, face flushed with fever from infection and yet his skin clammy pale from his own pain, Boba had felt sick to the heart and there was no way he could leave the others side when Din looked at him with his one good eye, the relief and love at seeing Boba overwhelming.

While Fennec was busy, another was more free to move, Cobb coming over with his eyes flashing nervously to Boba and then down to Din’s face, a thin stream of blood coming from the left temple, Cobb having hit the wall at some point during their surge into the buildig. “Did… is he going to be alright?” The marshal questioned, hand tight on his blaster as he stared down at them.

Swallowing thickly, Boba nodded slowly even as he wanted to voice his appreciation for Cobb helping them. “I’ll make sure that physically, he’ll be fine.”

Cobb paused a bit, catching the wording with a grimace.

But he nodded slowly, recognizing that Boba couldn’t answer for Din’s mental state after these three days of pain and hurt Din had gone through, helpless and at the hands of thugs. And Din had barely been tracking anything other than the pain he was in and Boba’s touch.

He didn’t know if the other’s mental state would heal as well.

He could only hope.

“There,” Both men focused on the medic, the young man flinching at the attention even as he squared his shoulders. “The patient can be moved now. I suggest we make haste to the medbay sir.” Russal licked his lips nervous and Boba nodded sharply, reaching for his helmet to put it on. Din was unconscious, so seeing his ugly mug wouldn’t help the other.

And Boba would not leave his father’s armor behind ever again.

Carefully, he shifted his arm beneath Din’s legs and upper back, standing slowly with a grunt as his back protested.

But he refused to let anyone else carry Din, tucking the mando up against his chest as he stepped out of the doors with Cobb and the doctor following, moving to Fennec side, he paused to stare down at the captain as she now cowered beneath his cold visor, Din tucked protectively to his chest. “…Everyone alive is to be brought to the palace, am I clear?” He stated, his voice crackling coldly through the vocoder before he made his way to the ship.

Boba knew he could trust Fennec to follow order and if he smirked a bit when he heard a pained yelp of the pirate captain as the sharpshooter got her moving… well, that was for him to know.

I have never really read Star Wars fics before but you are def changing that! I am even rewatching the clone wars because I like your stories so much! I am soo curious as to what will happen next in the secret we carry! Is obi gonna be okay? How are the medics gonna react? What is Ani gonna do?

Posted on av swmoddy

Busting into the room, Anakin paused uncertainly to take in the chaos of the medbay.

While Obi-Wan had been the primary target of Grievous but the troopers, bless their hearts, had thrown themselves into the line of fire so to speak, trying to slow the karking asshole down.

That and the droids Grievous had brought with him onto the Negotiator with the boarding ship had lead to several troopers becoming injured and in worst case, death.

So the medbay was full, Helix and the junior medics rushing around, helping those they could.

Loath to disturb the medics saving lives, Anakin took a deep breath through his nose and focused on Obi-Wan’s Force aura, tracing it to a bed further in the back.

Either drugged or having fallen naturally asleep, Obi-Wan was resting on a crisp, white medical bed, his clothes changed from the soft cardigan and sweats to medical garb and he wasn’t alone in the back as by his side in a chair, holding his hand though he quickly let go when Anakin approached, Commander Cody.

The commander nodded to Anakin when he approached but made no move to stand up.

Considering the brace currently from settled around left knee, that was understandable and Anakin sent it a quick frown.

“Grievous kicked me,” Cody answered the silent question, Anakin hissing quietly since he knew how hard that fucker could lash out. “Yeah, Helix has done what he could but I might not be walking without a limp, it all depends on how well it heals and even then, I’m gonna feel it when the weather pressure changes.” He sighed quietly.

Sighing quietly along with him, Anakin slowly sat down on the bedside, grasping the hand Cody had been holding moments before, tracing the back of Obi-Wan’s freckled hand with his thumb. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here faster. I’m sorry we didn’t chase them away quicker.” Anakin whispered, feeling drained and tired as he wasn’t sure if he was apologizing to Cody or Obi-Wan.

So many lives had been lost and people he cared about injured.

Because Grievous had found them.

Someone had leaked the information of their position, of that Anakin was certain and an uneasy feeling had settled in his stomach.

He would have to check the comms of both the Resolute and the Negotiator but something told him that outside of himself, the only outside contact might be the Jedi council.

The same council that had sent them here for Obi-Wan’s safety and had censored Obi-Wan’s folder to prevent the mission details to be leaked.

He had, in a fit of paranoia, contacted Ahsoka and had her try to slice the file, his padawan informing him with a smile that nope, neither her or any of her friends could get into the mission folder.

And then they had to explain to a stern faced Mace Windu what they had been doing.

Thankfully the master of the order hadn’t punished anyone, only given Anakin a long, stoic look over holo before sighing and told him to look after Obi-Wan.

Not that Anakin wasn’t already doing that as best he could but…

Well, he couldn’t overwhelm or hover over Obi-Wan either and sometimes he had to do other things.

Staring at the pale face of his master, Anakin let out a deep breath. “How was he?” He questioned, not looking away even as he aimed the question at Cody.

There was a shift. “Karking scrap metal gave him internal bleeding, broke four of his ribs, tore several muscles in his left arm and he had a gash on the back of his head that gave him a concussion after he hit the wall,” The words were tight and quiet, Cody clearly unhappy to recite the injuries but knowing Anakin would want to know. “Helix fixed him up of course but those things on top of his existing conditions… Helix put him into a healing coma.” The commander explained.

Frustration bubbled up in Anakin’s stomach as he tightened his grip on the others hand.

He understood why but Force, why was it always Obi-Wan?

His heart hurt just looking at his former master. “… He’s going to loose weight again.” Anakin whispered bitterly.

Cody just nodded mutely in agreement, the two staring at Obi-Wan’s weary, pale face as they both cursed the fates that seemed to land Obi-Wan in trouble.

SecretWeCarry, oh I’m so glad that Anakin is on his way! As if this wasn’t emotionally-charged enough, Grievous just HAD to step in; Anakin is SO shook up. Part of me is glad he could get close enough for the bond to open – that means OBI can sense him in return, so he’s not TECHNICALLY alone – but it also worries me, because if Anakin’s NOT quick enough, that bond is only going to highlight for Anakin how much he’s failing Obi right now. Either way, Grievous makes this a dicey situation!

Posted on av swmoddy

Slamming into the wall with a sickening crack, Obi-Wan cried out with pain and spat up blood and bile on the durasteel floor, all sounds around him muted down except the ringing in his ears.

He had been right that Grievous had been on the boarding party along with a squadron of droids that kept the troopers busy for the most part, the cyborg targeting Obi-Wan immidiatly with Obi-Wan responding as best he could, the two exchanging taunts as normal.

Well, the slippers had given the cyborg a pause but things had quickly devolved from their to a full on battle in the hanger.

And now Obi-Wan was quite clearly having internal injuries along with the external ones, a thin stream of blood making its way down Obi-Wan’s temple from his hair.

Potentially a flesh wound from hitting the wall, Grievous cyborg leg hitting with the force of a skycar out of control.

And Grievous kick had clearly done damage to his insides as well, with the hit to the wall had rung Obi-Wan’s head, his head throbbing as he struggled to get to his feet, the wheezing of the cyborg coming closer sending panic through Obi-Wan’s systems.

It was so hard, he could barely keep up with the damn cyborg at the moment but thankfully the troopers were aiding him, causing Grievous to roar with anger, the sound echoing off the walls along with the sounds of blasters as someone threw a grenade at him to give Obi-Wan a chance to recover..

Cody had outright tackled the cyborg with a few others only a few minutes earlier, dog piling him before being shaken off.

Thankfully, none of the troopers seemed too injured by that action, Obi-Wan didn’t know if he could forgive himself if any of them died here and now in the hanger with Grievous when there was just a token force of droids to keep them occupied while Grievous was doing his best to kill Obi-Wan.

Thankfully, as Obi-Wan parried a lightsaber swinging at him, he felt the bond between himself and Anakin become alive with proximity, the other clearly on his way.

Obi-Wan could have cried with relief but ended up dodging from another lightsaber slash, his ribs protesting as Obi-Wan spat out another mouthful of blood.

Because Obi-Wan wasn’t enough.

He was sick, he was injured and he just wanted to sleep but Grievous was a danger to every trooper onboard, Obi-Wan refused to hide when he knew the other was out after him. He wouldn’t sacrifice the troopers just to run away from the damn cyborg that was so intent on killing him.

“Pathetic Kenobi,” Grievous wheezed at him, Obi-Wan barely jumping out of the way of one saber while parrying another. “Your condition has left you even weaker than before. I will take great pleasure in taking your head and your saber.” He growled out, somehow managing to both wheeze and sound smug at the same time.

Normally, Obi-Wan would be jauntily replying back, sassing and distracting but all of Obi-Wan’s focus was going into defending and breathing.

He was just feeling so exhausted and in pain, seeing double of everything and inwardly he cursed.

Knocking his head against the wall must have done some trauma.

Hissing as his next dodge wasn’t good enough, cutting through his leggings and into his left thigh, Obi-Wan wondered how long he could keep going when he heard the most beautiful sentence in the world.

“Skywalker incoming!” A trooper called out and Obi-Wan could have cried from relief, hearing a ship, most likely Anakin’s Interceptor, coming powering through the force field of the hanger.

And when he heard the tell-tale sounds of a ship crashing against the floor and the popping of a canopy he could have laughed.

‘Another happy landing…’ He thought hysterically, his knees buckling under him as Anakin came roaring into his field of vision, the blond knocking Grievous back with a throw of brute Force.

Reinforcement had arrived and Obi-Wan could finally, finally lean into the aid of Cody when the commander appeared at his side to pull him away from the fight gingerly, trusting Anakin to deal with the interloper as he powered down his saber.

Do the guards find out that Obi-Wan is an incubus?

Posted on av swmoddy

2It was Waxer that finally managed to find a solution.

Of course, Cody didn’t realize that as he growled when Waxer started undoing the Jedi’s belt and sash. “Waxer, what the kark are yo-” He hissed out, pausing only when Obi-Wan whined with confusion.

His hunger was getting to him hardcore.

“Moment Commander, I’m not undressing him, promise. Just… give me a moment.” Waxer continued working, buckling up the belt once more but two holes too wide, leaving the belt to hang a bit lower on Obi-Wan’s body. He undid the sash but tied it just as quickly once more only looser.

For all intents and purpose, Obi-Wan looked the same to anyone not used to a Jedi’s common wear.

But the vode could see that Obi-Wan’s tunic was hanging looser on him and that his belt was hanging low on his hips.

That done, Waxer breathed out and then shifted behind Obi-Wan, sliding his hands up the others tunic and past the belt and sash, rubbing slowly and steadily at his waist and hips, giving Obi-Wan the skin touch he needed.

Obi-Wan let out a loud, keening noise before practically collapsing into Cody’s body, melting for Waxer as the trooper continued running his hands over the others sides and back, all of his actions hidden beneath the others clothes.

Staring, Cody let out a low noise. “Waxer you genius.” He whispered, letting out a shaken laugh when the other sent him a quick grin before focusing back on providing the semi intimate touch.

Melted against Cody, only giving the occasional shiver of pleasure, Obi-Wan seemed content to simply soak up the comfort and skin touch he was being offered.

“You’re skin feels really hot Obi-Wan,” Waxer noted after a moment, glancing to Helix in worry. “How badly of are you?” He questioned, even as Helix traded places with his vode.

Giving an unhappy noise when the hands disappeared, Obi-Wan huffed tiredly against Cody’s neck only to let out a happy keen when Helix hands were under the fabric, the medic no less caressing but with more purpose than Waxer. “I’m fine now. Hunger is still there but this is making it easier.” The Jedi muttered, pressing a soft, affectionate kiss to Cody’s pulse point.

However, the more the medic touched, the deeper Helix frown got.

The difference between Obi-Wan’s ‘fine’ and Helix, and by that also all the vode, was clearly quite different as always.

“Obi-Wan… I’m sorry if this hurts.” Helix stated quietly before pressing himself up against the others back, his hands going forward, petting his stomach for a moment before going up towards the others rib cage.

Cody couldn’t see what Helix did.

But he could see Obi-Wan blanch, the already pale man becoming even paler as he let out a choked gasp of pain.

Helix uttered a muffled curse. “His ribs. They’re not broken but I think they might be fractured.” He whispered with agitation, shifting around.

And then he quickly pulled his hands out from under Obi-Wan’s clothes as they heard the doors open, Cody reluctantly shifting to supporting Obi-Wan via his arms and elbow instead of having the man lean on him.

Around in the other cells, vode went back to pretending they were glowering or resting instead of doing their bit to try and escape as the guards wandered by, the wookie pausing to give them an assessing stare before following his companion, rawring at her when she threw him a teasing joke.

Cody just glowered, his heart aching as Obi-Wan gave a low, needy whine.

But the pause gave him a chance to look at Longshot, the man eyes glittering with triumph.

Longshot had made headway with his cell and Cody couldn’t help but bare his teeth in a vicious smile as others caught on and started putting their helmets on.

It was time to bust out and get their incubus to safety.

Okay so lupine copper, Moddy, I got two words for you. Sled dog! Or well, sled wolf really haha.

Posted on av swmoddy

Lifting his snout to the biting wind and snow in an attempt to catch the scent of any settlement at all, Obi-Wan let out a mournful howl when he couldn’t catch even the slightest trace and nervously, the werewolf glanced back at the sled he was currently pulling.

Qui-Gon was injured, they were suppose to be hunting down the rumors of a core run slavery ring run on Alderaan of all places, Queen Marna Organa having personally requested Jedi intervention to ensure that if such a thing was really present on Alderaan, it would be uprooted and burned to remove the taint from their planet.

And they had been finding leads that lead Qui-Gon to believe there was an actual slavery ring on the planet.

The leads had lead them to the mountains and they had prepared appropriately for the trek up through the mountain passes and snow.

What they had not prepared for when they found the base of the slavers that had stationed themselves on the planet, was the avalanche the slavers in their desperation had triggered to get away from the Jedi.

They had all been buried and Obi-Wan, in his shock and fear, had forcibly transformed, his body forcing him into his larger wolf form that was easily the height of Qui-Gon’s hip and he had dug himself out of the snow after a befuddled moment of shock.

The issue with that was that in his wolf form, Obi-Wan couldn’t use the Force well, his Force senses were different, muted in a way and Qui-Gon had intended for them to train more and see if Obi-Wan could extend his Force powers.

They hadn’t had time for that yet, so Obi-Wan had to rely on his animal senses to find his master.

It had taken him half an hour to find his master afterward, whimpering as dug Qui-Gon out of the red tainted snow, coated as it was by Qui-Gon’s blood.

Qui-Gon had broken his right leg, the bone poking through and his ribs were clearly fractured too.

Everything around them were broken or ruined but Obi-Wan had eventually managed to find a broken hoversled and ropes, using paws and teeth to make a basic harness and wrap onto the broken hoversled.

It might not be hovering but at the very least he could pull it on the snow and it would glide.

He had also managed to find some half buried fabrics, though he wasn’t sure what kind it was and at that point, Qui-Gon had woken up enough to drag himself onto the sled.

Dazedly he had also helped Obi-Wan with the harness, making it more secure and tying it more tightly to the sled, all the while murmuring apologies to his padawan for what Obi-Wan was required to do.

Obi-Wan had tried to answer as best he could through the bond, sending a soothing sensation at him but neither of them were in a good state. Both were injured, Qui-Gon severely, Obi-Wan had forcibly transformed, their supplies were lost in the avalanche and the mountain was showing signs of a coming storm.

So he had simply gently butted his nose to Qui-Gon’s scraped up hand, pushing at it until Qui-Gon tucked himself under the fabric to cover up as best he could, sad blue eyes watching his padawan worriedly.

So Obi-Wan had started walking, the rope pulling harshly on his furry body, chafing painfully, the sled with Qui-Gon heavy but that didn’t stop Obi-Wan, he had done difficult and hard things before. They needed to get to safety, to a settlement or a cave or something, they needed to survive.

Force, he had been walking and running for so long now, his legs were hurting and even his furry body was cold, tongue hanging out as he panted for air but the his desperation for survival was pushing him forward.

But worse was the fact that Qui-Gon had long ago lost consciousness once more, his face pale and his breathing shallow, snow piling on top of the fabric all over the large humans body.

They both needed help and Obi-Wan howled once more before forcing himself forward once more, his legs shaking as bloody paw prints were snowed over in seconds as the copper wolf continued forward.

Did- did obiwan just die in worriedalphafether?

Posted on av swmoddy

Pressing his good hand to the window, the other trapped in a sling over his chest to keep it still, Qui-Gon stared at his pup as he desperately wished he could put his hand to the others hair and stroke it gently.

But he couldn’t.

Because Obi-Wan was still being worked on, the medics moving around Obi-Wan, giving him injections, wrapping injuries still, doing tests and checking on… well whatever they needed to check.

He’d only just come out of bacta half an hour earlier and the medics were still working on what the bacta couldn’t do anything with. Blood transfusion, bones that had been ruined, brain swelling and damaged nerves.

The sight of Obi-Wan in the cockpit, the shrapnel almost cutting the younger man in two would be a horror he could never forget, squinting through the pain and smoke of the burning wreckage as he desperately tried to grasp the Force.

And failing.

Failing every time he tried as he whined and whimpered, trying to reach his cub.

Skywalker slumped over the display, bleeding out over the control, the alpha unnaturally pale.

And then the sound.

So loud, drowning out the crackling of the burning wreckage.

Obi-Wan’s wheezing breath, coughing up blood, the evidence of his lungs being damaged.

One of his lungs had collapsed, having been pierced by the shrapnel.

Hell, Obi-Wan was so lucky, just a bit higher and the sheet metal would have cut through his lungs. And then there was the shrapnel that had broken the others collarbone, that had been so close to the jugular and the neck.

Obi-Wan being alive was a miracle at that point.

But it hurt to see his pup like this.

And he knew that Skywalker was hurting too, the sour scent of the unhappy alpha clogging up the hall.

Not that Qui-Gon was any better.

“Qui-Gon Jinn?” The call had him jerking too, surprised as he hadn’t heard the door open nor spotted the other leaving the window view, the lead medic, a zabrak, standing in the doorway of Obi-Wan’s room.

“Yes?” Qui-Gon rasped, limping towards him, absently noting that the man looked stern, sweaty but not sad or apologetic.

The man nodded. “You are Qui-Gon Jinn, Jedi master and next of kin to Obi-Wan Kenobi?” He waited for Qui-Gon to give a terse nod. “Good, Good, I’m Akhal Firno, head medic. Your pup is very lucky,” Akhal noted, glancing back.

Breath caught in his throat, Qui-Gon grasped the elbow of his injured arm, faintly hearing Anakin get to his feet and come closer. “Lucky?” He whispered.

Akhal nodded, wiping the sweat of off his face before giving a small smile with his thin lips. “Indeed, while his injuries were severe and he is very lucky to have been brought in as fast as he was, he has most likely suffered nothing permanent and will make a full recovery.” He stated warmly.

Qui-Gon could have sung in joy.

And then Anakin brought it crashing down. “What do you mean with most likely not suffered anything permanent?” The tatooine alpha questioned nervously.

Akhal stepped back to let the other medics out, his face turning a wee bit nervous as Qui-Gon and Anakin stared at him, Qui-Gon feeling his heart sink nervously. “There… is a chance… that Kenobi might be unable to have children due to the severity of his injuries,” Akhal stated delicately. “He suffered quite the traumatic injuries that may have left permanent issues for his ability to carry a fetus to full term.” Akhal finished.

Mouth dropping open, Qui-Gon felt a vague sense of horror rise.

Because Obi-Wan, unlike many Jedi omega, wanted children. He knew that Obi-Wan wanted his own pups.

A low, piteous whine cracked through the air and for a moment Qui-Gon thought it was Anakin only for the blond to gently touch Qui-Gon’s shoulder. ‘…Oh… its me.’ The older alpha realized, his whine still echoing through the hall, bouncing off the walls as he begged the Force not to take Obi-Wan’s choice from him.

Obi-Wan deserved to make it for himself, not have that choice taken from him.