robinasnyder

For youngandfresh, I’m really looking forward to Boba finally explaining what happened. But I also want Obi-wan to sort of bond with Din. The leg hug was adorable and Obi-wan can’t help that it melted his heart.

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Pulling Din up onto the couch beside him, helping him suit Grogu in his lap with one arm wrapped around the little boy and then lacing their fingers together on the other hand, Boba settled as best he could as Din slowly rubbed his thumb on the back of Boba’s hand.

His face still felt oddly sticky and ruddy from crying, his eyes sore and he bet if he could see them in a mirror, they’d be reddish. Boba actually felt a bit awkward looking between his father, who was standing behind the couch with his eyes flickering between looking questioningly at the kids to glowering silently at the Jedi.

Kenobi meanwhile had settled down in the armchair to the left of the couch, his hands settled on his knees as he relaxed back in the arm chair. His brows were raised at the kids and for a moment, Boba wondered how they must look to the Jedi in that hoodoo Force stuff the Jedi had.

Then he disregarded it and instead looked to Din, raising his brow at the other, silently asking what he thought they should tell the other two.

Din simply shrugged, swinging his legs absently.

Honestly, Din didn’t really know much about this time period, Din came from the outer Rims, he hadn’t had the need to know about any of this and hadn’t even encountered a clone before he meet Boba, at least as far as Din knew.

There were many things that hadn’t been vital for Din to know and therefore he hadn’t learned in his and his coverts bid for survival.

So it was up to Boba to decide what to tell the others and how much.

Some things, he wouldn’t be telling Kenobi after all, some things were personal and to be kept between him and his buir and Din. Other things were vitally important for the Jedi to know, to start  change.

Small boulders starts the avalanche after all as they said on Datooine.

So Boba started with the fact that Grogu was Force sensitive, as Kenobi clearly knew, seeing as he had recognized the kid and that he and Din had touched an artifact that had pulled them back in time.

Not only pulled them back in time but also put them in their child bodies.

For the most part, both his buir and Kenobi let Boba talk but occasionally they interrupted.

Asking about the relic in question, to which Boba could only offer vague description. How many years into the past they had gone, which would be about thirty one years old since Boba was now ten. About how he and Din had meet and what he was to Boba, though Boba had promised his buir to explain that later.

Then came the difficult part.

The clone wars and the Empire.

Both his buir and Kenobi listened with the mouths steadily dropping wider and wider in shock and horror as everything was described to them, in gruesome details. Boba didn’t spare them, he had worked for the Empire and he had seen things up close and personal even if he at the time had been cold to it.

Looking back at it… Boba had not been a good person. Oh, he had his own moral code at the time of course, had been surviving with the jobs Vader and the Empire gave him but… no, he had not been a good person.

It also made him realize that his father hadn’t been a good person either. The scars of his past didn’t justify what happened to the clones, they shared their blood too and Boba hoped…

Well, he hoped.

Sometimes that was all he had.

Hope.

‘Well, and Din.’ He thought with a small smile as Din squeezed his hand gently, recognizing that Boba was falling into a mood despite how different he looked without his scars and fluffy hair. Din had spent a long hour just playing with Boba’s hair, familiarizing himself with it with delighted eyes as Grogu snored on Boba’s chest.

“I… see,” Kenobi finally settled on, frowning deeply as he rubbed at his chin, clearly thinking things over. “It would explain the strange… sensation in the Force around all three of you but I have never heard of time travel through the Force, but…” A wry, almost depreciating smile crossed the redhead’s lips. “As many masters like to say, all is possible in the Force.”

Boba just grimaced at that then shrugged.

“What I’m curious about, for now, is why Din here is trying his best to hide his face. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” Jango stated in a cool tone. If he wasn’t so familiar with himself, Boba might think his father was angry.

But he could tell the other was uneasy more than anything.

Glancing at Din, finding him tugging his hood down again with wide, anxious eyes. Boba squeezed his hand gently. “Din is from a… insular section of Mandalorians in the future,” Boba tried to be kind to Din and the way his covert had been but he could see Din pull his shoulders up around his ears despite how gentle Boba was being. “He was taught to wear his helmet in front of anyone not his aliit or riduur.” He looked back to the adults.

Both Kenobi and Jango frowned at that but it was the former that spoke first. “The splinter group to the Way of the Mandalorian, Watch Children?” He questioned, a tad worried clearly.

Din, Jango and Boba stared at the Jedi in surprise.

The man in question raised his brows in return. “I spent a year on Mandalore, I am quite familiar with the culture, the language and the weapons,” He stated a tad dryly. “I have my own beskar’gam in the temple, though I haven’t worn it since I was seventeen.” Kenobi shrugged.

Jango shifted and whelp, Boba would have to ignore that flash of interest in the man’s eyes. There was no way Jango was going to imagine his own dad kriffing the Jedi with how Jango was literally eye fucking the man right there in front of his own child, yikes.

Then there was the fact that a Jedi had beskar’gam, proper mandalorian armor from Mandalore and apparently was also familiar with Mandalorian culture and language, despite Jedi not being welcome on Mandalore prior to Duchess Satine…

Well, Boba had no idea what to make of that, even less that it was Obi-Wan Kenobi. Maybe that explained why his men loved him so much?

If he was familiar with mando’a, he might have communicated and fit in with them better.

But still, the very idea of all of it went over Boba’s damn head.

Still, he nodded slowly. “That would be…right. Din is… well, Din is learning to be without his helmet but…” He trailed off.

“A lifetime of habits do not disappear overnight,” Jango rumbled, crossing his arms over his chest with a thoughtful grimace before nodding seriously. “I’ll go find one of the cadet helmets for him, if you’re amendable to that verd’ika?” He offered Din, smiling gently when he got a painfully hopeful stare and nod from Din.

Clearly, despite knowing that both Boba and Din were adults where they came from, neither Kenobi or Jango could see them as anything but children.

Which might be for the best actually Boba mused as he pulled Din closer to his side and had the other rest his head on his shoulder, Grogu cooing in Din’s lap. They weren’t reacting as their older selves would, their reactions weren’t as disciplined, their emotions not under as good control and the less said about their bodies the better.

Clearly, for all intents and purposes, they were now children again, just… precocious children with knowledge they shouldn’t have.

…Karking Osik.

Aliit = Family

Riduur = Spouse

Verd’ika = little soldier (often used affectionately, especially with children)

Beskar’gam = armor

Osik = Shit

For Lupinecopper, can we see them all getting to the temple? Especially a Maul POV chapter as he starts to take in how totally different his life is going to be?

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Staring at the package on the bed as if it was a snake that could bite him, Maul warily glanced around the room that was supposedly his.

Or so alpha said.

Obi-Wan, as he insisted. Maul couldn’t quite do that though, it wasn’t in his nature or his instincts, when any moment he expected the other shoe to drop.

Because that was what all this felt like, a grand production of carrot and stick, or well, meat in Maul’s instance. He could eat vegetables like any zabrak but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it, he was a damn carnivore.

Not to mention the wolf inside of him.

But so far, outside of a few angry looks by Jedi in the corridors and whispered mean words, no one had done anything, least of all his alpha or the pack he had been pulled into. The old Jedi even made him tea from Dathomir, an import the man had claimed with a small laugh as he poured cups for all of them from a pot.

Maul had of course waited until the two other had drank first before daring to drink too, he wasn’t about to be poisoned but…

Nothing happened. The tea was safe.

He had a room, he was fed, he trained with his alpha and the pack Jedi in a salle, stayed in the quarters of his alpha and kept himself entertained.

Weeks after being beaten to submission and nothing had yet to happen, Maul expecting an assassin in the night from Sidious or for another Jedi outside of the pack to attack him. But there had been nothing.

Of course, that didn’t mean that most were happy he was there.

The Jedi council had looked like they were ready to jail him the moment they met him on Naboo and the rest of the Jedi temple was far from kind to him. But no one had harmed him, so compared to Sidious, Maul was living better than ever with regular food, no punishments and even the ability to come and go around the temple should he wish.

So why was Maul so leery about the package sitting so innocently on his bed?

It was clearly from his alpha, Maul could smell that, Kenobi’s scent was all over it and fresh, meaning it would have been picked up today.

Gray wrapping paper, tied of with some kind of string in a similar gray shade, resting on his nicely made bed.

Finally forcing himself forward, Maul tugged on the string gingerly until it came undone so he could push the paper aside, even as his mind kept going through what in the world was inside the package.

It wasn’t big, nor was it heavy, it didn’t press the sheets in with its weight but it had mass to it, so what in th-

Maul froze, staring at the contents.

Clothes.

Black leggings, some black socks, black underwear, shirts and tunics. The tunics and shirts came in black but also a deep red and one lovely midnight blue one.

Unable to resist, Maul reached out and ran his fingertips along the blue one, his breath catching slightly as he felt the silky fabric under his finger tips. But more than that, Maul noticed a glint of gold on the blue.

Embroidered onto the collar, one on each side, was a golden profile of a wolf head.

The blue tunic one was made of silk, of fine quality and make and Maul stared at it for a long moment of sheer confusion and stifled fear, only moving when he heard his door open, turning his head quickly to look.

Obi-Wan stood there, peering at him in concern but not stepping inside. “Are you alright Maul? I felt some conflicting emotions,” His eyes fell to Maul’s hands and perked up a bit. “Oh, I see you found the clothes.” He stated a tad more cheerfully.

Maul mouth felt dry but he forced himself to speech still. “What is… this?” He questioned slowly, keeping his voice low as he avoided his alpha’s eyes, not wanting to challenge the man when he already felt unbalanced.

Obi-Wan cocked his head in return. “Well, you didn’t have clothes, you’ve been wearing the same things since Naboo. I went to the quartermaster and picked up some clothes in your size. Just some though, in case they weren’t to your liking, so you had something to wear until we could buy more,” He explained before frowning. “I… are they not to your liking?” Obi-Wan asked, his voice sounding worried, shoulders hunching slightly.

Maul stood there, feeling lost.

Sidious had rarely extended the curtsy of fetching him anything, once Maul had gotten old enough, Sidious had simply handed him credits to buy what he needed or sent his droids.

Yet his new alpha, this Jedi, the ancient enemies of Sith, had gone out of his way to pick out clothes for Maul. The toiletries had been sorted the first day but clothes…

These were his clothes now.

Swallowing slightly, Maul turned his head back, his fingers still on the blue tunic. “No… no I like them…” He stated quietly, hunching slightly at the warmth and happiness lighting up the Force behind him.

Yet he didn’t retract his statement.

He really did like his new tunic.

For Lupinecopper… would it be possible to have some Maul POV? Maybe him being defiant but also kind of scared? Especially when the Council shows up?

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Watching everyone as closely as he could, in particular the redhead, Maul had come to the conclusion that his new alpha was… strange.

Or maybe different.

He wasn’t ignorant, Maul knew very well that the way he had been raised was… immoral.

Many beings would find it reprehensible the way Sidious had treated him through the years and as a youth, he had thought that was simply how it was suppose to be. The man had been his master and his alpha throughout the years, his power over Maul absolute and his demand for obedience total.

Anything but total obedience got Maul punished, the consequences of his lack of submission leaving the zabrak body straining as he struggled to get his tasks and missions done.

Sometimes, very rarely, he got to rest his beaten and lightning twitching body but that was not often, Sidious was a hard task master.

But his new alpha… this Jedi, he wasn’t like that.

He expected obedience too, but…

Not submission and his orders weren’t…

It was confusing, so far the Jedi’s orders had related to Maul health, ensuring he remained still for treatment, ensuring he ate and only one of the orders were really something that upset him when the Jedi tied him up.

But even then it wasn’t really that upsetting, the ropes hadn’t been tightly bound and they were weak. Even without his werewolf strength or the Force, Maul would have easily escaped them.

It was for show, simply for the beings on Naboo to think he was restrained.

To keep them calm despite how much he could sense the discomfort and outright hate some had towards not only him but also his new alpha.

Were discrimination wasn’t unfamiliar to Maul but to see it directed at a Jedi…

He hadn’t been able to think too much about it as the news of the Jedi council and his former master was arriving, the instinctual fear of him causing Maul to curl up even as his insides howled in defiance, wanting to fight.

But fear had leashed him for years and hate had kept him strong, he would endure Sidious arrival and prostate himself.

Only…

That hadn’t happened.

Instead his new alpha had pulled him up and pulled him along with the child latched onto the Jedi’s waist, leaving the landing area to the tall Jedi as they returned to the rooms that were gifted to them temporarily.

Kenobi had untied him the moment they were inside and sent Maul to the couch, fetched him the jerky that must be for the Jedi originally and let Maul eat.

Let him rest and relax, the fear slowly easing as his distance to the landing party made him feel more secure.

It was… nice.

Maul wasn’t sure what to make of any of that, of nice Jedi, nice beings, treating him as if he had worth beyond his ability as a weapon. Sidious had never treated him kindly and others shunned him, the feel of the Dark side warning them away despite not realizing what Maul was.

Maybe beings had treated him neutrally at best but Sidious training had been more stick than carrot as they said and fear had driven Maul to improve and do better at the man’s feet.

Yet here he was, sitting on a couch, the blond human on the other side as he ate fruit, Maul eating jerky as his new alpha ordered proper food up to them from the kitchens, his voice pitched to sound like Jinn instead of his own.

Clearly he expected better treatment if the staff thought it was Jinn ordering and Maul couldn’t help but wonder if this was something Kenobi was used to doing, mimicking his master’s voice.

He wanted to know more about the other were as he watched him, about his new alpha as he slowly chewed no the jerky, wanted to learn how another were had survived Coruscant and the core’s.

Wanted to know another werewolf and maybe, just maybe, far in his subconscious, he also wanted to know safety with a pack member.

In a previous chapter of dangerous galaxy, you mentioned a feminization kink. Would it be possible to see something where one of the troopers find their Jedi having to suffer that? Like Mace or Kit?

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Carefully tucking the robe back around the Jedi when it slipped down, covering him up again, Ponds heart raced as Mace flinched slightly beneath the touch and yet did nothing to try and escape from it.

His General was refusing to look at him, his eyes focused slightly too high up on the wall to be really looking at anything in particular as troopers quickly moved around the office. By the desk, Fox and Thorn were talking in hushed tones with another trooper over the cooling body of a Senator, the senator Ponds had shot only half an hour earlier.

An hour earlier, a panicked comm had come from Hawkeye, the trooper telling him that he’d seen General Windu enter the Rotunda with a Senator, the man’s face the picture of stone as the other man looked smug as he lead Mace through the halls.

It had sent the commander rushing into the Rotunda, wasting precious seconds in finding the Jedi as he traveled from the barracks and then searching through the Senate by asking uppity aides.  

Finally though, after asking a protocol droid in the hallway, he had gotten a lead on his Jedi and who he was with, Senator Dmitri.

Ponds had an excuse prepared and everything for why he was interrupting the ‘meeting’, had everything in place to cover up as he opened the office door and stepped in.

That plan had fallen to dirt as a red, choking haze had enveloped him when the situation hit him.

His General, on his knees in front of the Senator on the couch, undressed from his Jedi garment and yet not nude, the Jedi dressed up in a soft, peach pink lingerie as his head bobbed up and down, the Senator’s hand clenched on top of the bald head.

Mace’s clothes had been on the table, folded neatly, as if a mocking gesture that his normal garment were just there along with a pouch of what Ponds identified as makeup yet to be used.

Ponds had reached for his blaster before either realized that he was there, the haze of realization that this karking hut’uun had his General on his knees in sheer lace because he got off on humiliating the Jedi sending Ponds into a rage he didn’t know how to cope with outside of getting rid of the threat.

Which left them in this situation, Ponds having moved Mace away from the cooling body and him comming the guards for help. He had thrown the Jedi’s robe around him and covered him up as they waited, Mace simply thanking Ponds when the other fetched him some water.

If his complexion was lighter, Ponds would bet that the others cheeks would be darkened with a flush but as it was, the only flush was the others lips, swollen and flushed from what he had been forced to do.

Ponds didn’t regret it.

He would never regret getting rid of a threat against his Jedi.

But he did regret that he came this late, he did regret that Mace was forced to undergo what was clearly humiliating to him.

Glancing to Fox as he removed his gloves and tucked them into his belt, Ponds let out a deep, fortifying breath before reaching out slowly, carefully, grasping Mace hands with his. He held the Jedi master’s hands lightly with his, making sure the other knew he could break the hold if he wanted.

When Mace made no move to break the hold and even tilted his head slightly as if he was looking at Ponds from the corner of his eyes, Ponds started gently rubbing at the others knuckles. “…It will be alright General. We’ll make it alright.” Ponds whispered quietly, pitching his voice low as if to keep the conversation private despite knowing fully the other troopers in the room was listening.

Dark eyes flickered to his face fully, glanced away as if ashamed and then back, Mace’s hands tightening on his.

For a long minute, Mace simply sat there, staring at Ponds.

Then he shifted on the couch until he was facing his commander, leaning forward until his forehead was resting on Ponds pauldron.

His shoulders started shaking as he clung to the trooper’s hands, wet splashes hitting Ponds pauldron and slipping onto the blacks under to wetten it but no noise escaped the Jedi despite the tears being shed.

Swallowing thickly, Ponds glanced up at a distressed looking Hawkeye as he continued rubbing Mace’s hands, letting the Jedi take what little comfort he seemed willing to accept as he processed what had just happened.

I would love to see you write a scene where Princess tells Boba No infront of everyone!

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Today was an unusual day from the get go.

For one, it had rained.

Harsh, thundering desert rain but rain that could be drunk if it was collected in buckets and barrels, everyone putting out what they could to get water to store and use and drink.

Even a few of the more daredevil and reckless ones going as far as standing out in the rain and soaking it up.

The second unusual thing had been Fett himself, walking out without a smidgen of armor on, not even his helmet, dressed simply in his black robe and belt carrying his weapons.

The pillows Princess had left behind in the throne came in good use now, though Fett also used them with his armor on. But without any on, they were certainly a comfort by the way Fett sighed in relief after stuffing one of the bigger ones behind his back.

Court had proceeded as usual after that, not all that different except for the occasional drip of the rain coming down through cracks.

From the way Fett eyed the occasional wetness, it was clear he was making mental notes about getting it fixed as he traced the wetness to the roof above when not talking with someone.

The third unusual thing…

Was Princess himself.

When he finally emerged, a lot of people couldn’t contain their surprise.

Dressed in his usual sweet sheer getup, a nice lacy blue one this day that left so little to the imagination and yet kept the most important bits covered that was only for Fett, Princess was also dressed in bruises.

He walked gingerly over the stone floor, not his smooth roll of hips that many watched and lusted after and very carefully Princess slid himself into Fett’s waiting lap, sighing in relief as he settled his head on the other’s shoulder.

Fett smoothed his hand slowly over a thigh as he rolled his body a bit, making it easier for Princess to settle. He murmured quietly to the other, glancing at him before settling at a positive reply, his hand still on the tanned thigh in a comforting, petting motion as court finally began with everything from completed missions, petitioners and off-worlders seeking anything from alliance to work.

Now Fett’s state of dress made more sense to the regulars of the court.

It had become more and more apparent that Fett adored Princess, to some it even appeared the crime king potentially loved him as fantastical as the idea sounded, so seeing to his comfort in his own fortress by shedding his armor was not beyond Fett.

But it left many to speculate.

Someone had already died for harming Princess.

No one had died now, at least not yet and Fett would have made a public execution of it, as a warning and a threat to everyone what would happen if you crossed him.

And Princess was a mess of yellowing and black bruises and looking long enough, one could even spot a bacta patch on the back of one calf.

Had this happened while he was traveling, to see his son?

Was Princess son a slave potentially and the master of the son hurt him?

Both of those floated around a while, the latter dismissed almost as soon as it was suggested, Fett adored Princess, would grant him expensive outfits, sweets, toys and anything the man desired and allow him actions no one else could get away with and nothing would have stopped him from making Princess happy at this point.

Including either rescuing or buying his son if so and with the time it took to travel, there was no way the son was on Tatooine.

Another, cautious rumor began after those.

Djarin had just been punished after all, had been kneeling in place of the King’s favorite whore for an entire day with the King’s hand on his neck.

Was he the one to beat the throne warmer?

While Princess was adored for sure, Djarin was a favorite too in Fett’s eyes, everyone was aware that both Djarin and Shand were his right and left hands and both of them were also granted favors that others would not get.

No one as much as Princess of course, but maybe enough that Djarin could survive being violent towards Princess with a humiliating punishment?

Now that it was loose, more speculation came.

No one had ever seen Princess and the hunter in the same room at the same time, they always seemed to either miss each other or not be required at the same time, one being in the bedroom and the other being on a hunt from time to time when the other was in the throne room.

Maybe that was on purpose by Fett, that he knew the dislike that least one of them had towards the other.

Potentially both of them hated each other.

More than one person had speculated on the nature of Djarin and Fett’s relationship, the mandalorian practically a dog on a leash for Fett as much as Princess on the literal leash with a collar.

The idea had merit and once brought up, circulated with more and more conviction.

And Djarin would be more than capable to leave Princess in such a state with little injury or risk to himself in his beskar armor, even injured as he was when he returned and despite Princess well capable hands at violence, the armor would be major protection, coupled with the battle experience of the mandalorian.

Fett dismisses one of the merchants that set up stalls and homes in the new town around the palace, their tax payment taken away by a twi’lek with shrewd eyes to put into the treasury but that’s not as interesting as the sight of a shifting and grimacing Princess, the tanned man gripping the front of Fett’s robe.

The King takes that moment to pause, gently rubbing at Princess thigh. “Maybe you should go back to bed.” Fett questioned but it came out as a statement more than anything, voice low as he eyed the other thoughtfully. “Lay down and rest.” The man stated and as used to him being obeyed as the court was, the answer took them of guard.

Princess grimaced again before shaking his head against Fett’s shoulder. “No. I want to stay.” He stated, voice a tad raspier than usual but firm.

Not that many took much note of that however, frozen from the ‘no.’

Princess had been confused, sad, hesitant even violent but he had never said no before. Not to Fett, a man used to being obeyed and swift in dealing with those who didn’t in his palace and on his planet and many shifted nervously, wondering if they were about to witness more bruises be added to Princess already damaged body.

However, Fett simply huffed, as if he expected the answer before reaching into his belt pouch and pulling out something. “At the very least you need something to dull the pain, alright?” He stated seriously, staring at the other man as he held up a vial with something shimmery blue in it.

Princess eyed the vial before sighing and nodding, reluctantly sitting up a bit and opening his mouth ever so slightly.

Satisfied seemingly, Fett popped the cork of the vial and tipped the bottle against his index finger, a thin sheen on it when he removed the bottle. With care, he slowly rubbed the shimmery powder on the inside of Princess bottom lip.

That done, he stowed away the bottle and wiped his finger on his own thigh, watching with a slightly amused air as Princess ran his tongue along the inside of his lip and grimaced heavily. The gaze softened however as Princess visibly started relaxing and flopped against the other man, Fett’s arm coming up around him in a careful circle. “There we go Princess, we’ll have something to eat in an hour or so.” He murmured, voice sweetly promising.

Princess hummed at that, nuzzling into Fett’s shoulder, eyes half closed. “Elek buir’ika.” He mumbled, voice low, barely heard over the music with an airy note to it that indicated despite the low dose, he was properly drugged up.

All in all, it had been a very strange and very long day by the time the palace emptied out of those that did not belong there during the night, everyone hoping things would be returning to normal over the next day.

Well, there was one last strange thing.

Though among all the other things, it seemed almost inconsequential to those that left for the night.

Just a tiny thing among every other detail but just enough for a few to see and remember as different from the norm.

Fett had not been wearing his gloves throughout the day.

Strange things in a strange court.

For sweetprincess, can Din and Boba talk after the subdrop?

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If someone was to call him a fool in the moment, Boba would not reject the notion.

He was not omnipotent, he was simply human and humans, unfortunately, made many mistakes throughout their life.

Even the ones reborn in the burning of the Dune sea, screaming to the suns as they pulled themselves free with blood and fluids coating their bodies.

…Huh, sounded a lot like a normal birth when you thought about it, not that Boba had a normal birth to begin with.

Din’s subdrop was as much on his shoulders as it was on Din himself and looking back on it, Boba realized that his anger had spoken where his understanding should have been.

They hadn’t spoken about the armor and its position in their relationship, especially in this part of the relationship and to have Din kneel in front of a full court in his armor, even for cauterizing a wound, was in bad taste.

Especially without a longer, in depth conversation.

Likewise, Din should have alerted him to the issue when his mind started swallow him up. He should have called out red for Boba to hear but a part of Boba was terrified that Din had and he had simply missed it.

He didn’t think so.

There was a reason he had kept his hand on the back of Din’s neck throughout the entire process but the maybe, the maybe haunted Boba, left him sleepless as Din soft breath puffed into his neck where he was curled into Boba.

They would need a long and serious conversation about it for sure.

Maybe several.

The armor and Din’s comfort in and out of it was…

Well, Boba wouldn’t pretend to understand it, he had seen people sworn to codes, to creeds, to religions but he had never been one for it himself.

Maybe the harsh life he had lead, the life without his father but he had never come to swear the resol’nare. He was too young while his father was alive and when he was old enough it just… never happened.

He met other mandalorians of course, warriors like his father but…

By the time Boba could swear it, Mandalore seemed like such a bitter concept with a duchess so sworn to her pacifist ideals that she’d stay out of an intergalactic war while departing the culture of Mandalore to the pale imitation of the Republic.

He sometimes wondered, how things would have been if a united Mandalore had been in shape, for either the CIS or the Republic.

Wondered how a united Mandalore would take to the clone armies.

He knew there were conflicted opinions about them, both on the New Mandalorians and the truer mandalorians side.

Not that it mattered.

Now it was just all a load of hypothetical with a glassed planet outside of the dome cities.

It was strange to think sometimes, that Boba, despite never really calling himself mandalorian, perhaps knew more of and experienced more of the culture than the foundlings and younglings of mandalorians now.

A strange and painful thought if he was honest.

Huffing out a breath, Boba pressed his lips to the feathered hair of Din’s head, focusing on the small twitches of the others body, indicating Din was waking slowly.

It took time, not surprising considering Din cried himself to sleep during a subdrop but finally, clinging to Boba, Din made a low noise and lifted his head enough to blink crusty eyes at the other. His cheek was lined from sleeping against Boba’s chest, his hair was a mess from Boba running his fingers through it and he looked like he’d rather be asleep again.

The two stared at each other before Boba reached out and gently ran his fingertips over Din’s cheek. “Mesh’la.” He whispered, smiling slightly at the flush that provoked. Din was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Din, reluctantly from the looks of it, sat up in bed, rubbing at his eyes to remove the crust from it and then focused sleepily at him. “What happened?” He mumbled, blinking his large eyes slowly at him.

Sighing, Boba sat up, stretching enough to crack his back before focusing on Din again, lips pulling taunt. “We were both stupid, that’s what,” He grumbled, reaching out to stroke Din’s curly hair into a semblance of order when the other winced. “You went into a subdrop Din.”

Din blinked at him, leaning into the touch as Boba watched him closely.

From the looks of it, Din didn’t seem to be in a subdrop still but Boba would keep his eye on him.

More than that, Din just seemed confused. “Like… when you had a domdrop?” He questioned slowly, reminding Boba of his own.

“Same thing, yes, emotions, adrenaline and darker thoughts tangling up. But mine came from how you reacted to the spanking admittedly. Yours however came from a lack of communication.” Boba stated seriously, pulling Din into his side to cuddle him.

That had Din glancing to where their armors were settled, the shelves for the helmets and the stands for the rest. “Oh…” He licked his lips.

Boba hummed, pressing a kiss to a bare, tanned shoulder as he rubbed slowly at the other side. “Mmn, so, first of, if you ever start feeling like you did yesterday, whatever we’re doing, be it pleasure, punishment or play, you tell me. You give me a red, you karking hit me if you have to,” He stated seriously, cupping Din’s chin to turn the other to face him. “You understand me?” Boba stated, voice demanding.

“But,” Din started, protesting with a small furrow between his brows.

“No,” Boba cut in, squeezing Din by the trim waist. “This is serious Din, subdrops aren’t healthy, they happen, yes but they can be migrated and even aborted. You had a major subdrop, you lost it and that’s on both you and me. Me for not making sure you knew that you could stop it all and not communicating properly with you and you for not speaking up,” He sighed against Din’s shoulder, rubbing slowly as he felt the tension of the others body. “…What was one of the first things I promised you Din, when we started this?” Boba questioned quietly.

Swallowing, shifting a bit, Din bit his lip before answering. “Safety. You… you promised me safety.” He answered dutifully.

Brushing his fingers over a large bruise on Din’s side, Boba hummed. “Yes. And that’s the most important thing. What happened yesterday wasn’t safe. What would have happened if you continued? If I hadn’t heard you?” He peered at Din.

Din opened his mouth then closed it, his expression turning uncertain before mortified and then sad, clearly recognizing what Boba meant.

Boba nodded seriously. “You would have continued until you had a fit in front of the court. I know that you’re getting more used to it Din but… its clear you still need the separation of the armor from who you are out there without it.” A layer of safety for Din, to give him time to rediscover his footing and his mind now that he wasn’t sure of his creed.

And maybe also a physical protection if Boba was honest.

Sooner or later, Bo-Katan was going to come looking for Din, Boba knew that, especially since Din was stationary here even if he sometimes flee off of into space on a hunt now and then or to visit Grogu at Skywalker’s little space.

As Princess, Bo-Katan wouldn’t look twice at Din.

Might have some unsavory words for Boba but he cared about her opinion as much as he did of bantha dung.

And Din needed more time.

Maybe one day, removing his helmet and kneeling at Boba’s feet in his armor would be a thing he could do but right now?

Din wasn’t ready and Boba had overstepped and practically trampled on Din’s boundaries. “For the future Din, promise me, if there’s something that upsets you, especially in regards to our relationship, talk to me,” Boba begged practically. “Gedetir.” He wasn’t above actually begging.

It seemed to work as Din swayed into him, pressing his face to Boba’s shoulder. “Elek buir’ika,” He whispered, nuzzling slowly before pressing a kiss to a scarred section of Boba’s shoulder. “But… just so you know… it wasn’t being in front of everyone that made… well that happen.” He whispered against the skin.

Breathing out, pressing his hand to the back of the others neck, Boba paused at the confession

“Oh?” He whispered back, prodding for more.

Din hummed a bit, nuzzling slowly before nodding. “I… the lack of touch, warm skin contact. I felt… stuck in my own head in the dark. And you were wearing your gloves…” He trailed off.

Boba held his breath for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to Din’s temple. “Good, good boy Din, thank you for telling me, that’s… that’s prudent information.” His mind raced a bit before nuzzling Din slowly. “My sweetest Princess.” He murmured, chuckling at the warm flush he could feel in the others cheek against his skin.

For dangerousgalaxy, what happens when Fox finds out?

Posted on av swmoddy

Sitting down heavily, staring at nothing, Fox mentally reviewed the conversation he just had.

The information Kote had given them.

The fire in his eyes, the promise of violence.

The violence Fox was not going to stop the man from inflicting.

And then he let his own memories rise.

The image of Jedi in the Senate, late at night, startled to see Fox but relaxing when they saw who it was. Always unfailingly polite, sometimes their voice a bit raspy or their position a bit uneasy.

Sometimes limping.

Fox had put it away to them not being familiar with the CG or to war related injuries.

Unbidden, another memory rises.

A commander, young but not extremely so, maybe about twenty three, which made them an older padawan he supposed

Nat born ages were a bit odd to clones. ‘No one under twenty General Skywalker said.’ Kote voice repeats in his head and Fox leans forward, settling his elbows on his desk as he buries his face in his hands.

They had been crying, leaning against the wall, trembling, hand to their mouth. Her braid had been undone, the length a bit odd looking to Fox.

He was used to the braids being at least shoulder length, especially on older padawans.

She had yelped when she heard him, jerking to as if stung only to visibly relax when he saw Fox, saw the armor, recognized him as a clone. Fox hadn’t thought much of it.

It was war after all, though having a break down in the Senate was not good for moral and therefore he had offered her aid.

Offered her his arm and asked if she needed help back to the temple.

She had been… uneasy.

Yes, uneasy, Fox had put it aside as some clone resentment, he knew that even among the Jedi, there were some that were uneasy with them even if most treated them fairly.

But she hadn’t hesitated to take his arm, even as she dried her face with her other hand, so Fox had thought it was just that she wasn’t used to interacting with clones.

The padawan, she had leaned so heavily on him.

It was war he had told himself.

Everyone who fought at the front lines were tired.

Especially commanders that had to make tough choices.

He hadn’t… thought about it.

Until now.

Until he remembered seeing her face again, a week later, on the list of KIA’s.

Her face had stuck with him because of how closely he had interacted with her last, the smiling face so at odds with the crying one Fox had seen. The life in the holo images eyes compared to the broken ones of the eyes that he had escorted to a skycar.

Now all Fox could think about was where he had found her.

Twenty three.

Clones didn’t have that age range, but he knew well enough, from exposure to Coruscant and nat borrns, that life was only just beginning really then. Humans at least were still figuring themselves out at that age, finding their path.

She still had so much left.

But with this, Fox couldn’t help but wonder.

Now that he knew how truly under the thumb of the Senators the Jedi were, he couldn’t help but wonder about her death.

‘…Senator Larona. It was… his office.’ Fox peeked over his hands, brows furrowing slowly as he stared blindly at the wall of his dim office.

Then he stood, picking up his helmet and putting it on, once more becoming ‘just’ another clone in a sea of others, despite the paint on his armor.

Very rarely did the Senators he protected remember to call him by name, didn’t bother to learn it.

It was generally ‘Commander’ or ‘trooper’.

Senators most didn’t care for clones.

Fox tucked his blaster onto his belt and after a moment, a vibroblade.

An eerie sense of calm settled into Fox bones as he made his way out of his office, joined only minutes later by a silent, seething Thorn.

He expected the other to ask questions, expected the other to need comfort. Thorn did neither, simply followed closely, his body trembling ever so slightly and Fox felt his breath catch.

Because Thorn had Jedi friends.

Fox didn’t work with many Jedi at all, didn’t have the time but…

Thorn, Thorn knew Quinlan Vos.

Quinlan Vos, when on Coruscant, was often in the Rotunda.

Vode had thresholds it seemed, limits for how much they were willing to take, if not for themselves, then for others, for each others in particular… or for the ones that served with them.

“Leave no evidence.” Fox simply murmured, breathing out when Thorn nodded once as the two stepped into an elevator.

There be at least one less Senator in the Senate this night if not more.

For dangerous galaxy, so you’ve established that people get handsy with Jedi really young. What if there’s like a rule that after a Jedi is knighted that any senator can call on them for sex? So Obi-wan is pretty popular (and 1000x more protective of Anakin and Ahsoka because of it)?

Posted on av swmoddy

If there was anything in this sweet galaxy that Cody had come to hate, it was these damn charity balls that certain Senators insisted on holding.

Oh, not every one of them were terrible, the ones held by Bail Organa and Padme Amidala and their ilk were actually doing what a charity ball for the war was intended to do.

But others?

For others it was simply a show of wealth and Cody knew, without a doubt, that the credits gathered at this ball, would never be seen by either refugees or the army.

It would either be neatly tucked into the Senators own pockets, their aids or the nat born officers that worked with the Senators because the Senator in question didn’t care at all for what happened after their show of benevolence.

And Cody hated the fact that he and his men and the his vode in the 501st were on display, every last one of them without their helmets so the nat borns could gawk at them with only a few daring to talk with them.

Some on dares and some out of arrogance, thinking they were mindless.

Quite a few vode were quick to put those in their place and quick to show their independence.

Those brothers who were different in some ways, like Rex, had quickly taken to the shadows of the room, helped by other troopers to hide almost in plain view since they attracted more attention than others.

But even more than the attention the unique vode got, Cody hated how much attention his Jedi got.

Because while Obi-Wan wore a smile, Cody could tell it was fake and Obi-Wan would always ensure to draw attention away so Anakin would not have to deal with it.

Picking up a glass of fancy wine that Cody would never in a million year be able to have on the slim ‘pay’ the GAR troopers got despite Cody being a Marshal Commander, he gave an irritated glance around to see where Obi-Wan was.

He found him by a pillar and paused at the clearly strained smile Obi-Wan was sporting, a fine tremble in the man’s shoulders as he spoke with… Senator Passaba Cody thought the man’s name was.

Jango’s bones, Obi-Wan almost looked scared and Cody felt himself tighten up, his glass lowering untouched at the practically hungry look on the pale and almost white haired blond man in front of his General.

He almost threw said glass content into Anakin’s face when the blond suddenly touched his shoulder, a wild look in blue eyes. “Cody, Cody get Obi-Wan away from that man. Get him away from him now.” He hissed as quietly as he could, though Fives and Echo paused from where they were picking food from the buffet of fancy little bites.

Thankfully none of the nat borns were close enough to hear the panicked Jedi.

“Sir?” Cody set the glass down on the table, turning fully to him, brows drawing into a frown.

Anakin twisted his hands together, his face conflicted and panicked before he jerked when a resigned Obi-Wan started walking, following the Senator. “They’re gonna fuck. You need to stop them. Obi-Wan doesn’t want to but he can’t say no. You have to stop them.” The blond pleaded desperately, pretty much shaking out of his own skin.

Cody’s stomach dropped.

What the kark did that mean?

“We’re not allowed to say no, no Jedi over twenty are.” Anakin finally said, eyes furious and yet helpless at the same time.

Cody had heard enough from the blond, he turned on his heel and made his way through the crowds as he walked quickly, his purposeful and determined stride cutting through the crowd as easily as if he was pushing them aside with intent alone.

Noticing his commander, Obi-Wan paused, the Senator pausing with him with an annoyed look spreading on his face as he said something to the Jedi.

Though it disappeared when Cody finally caught them, the commander saluting slightly as the Senator expression turned pinched. “Sir, there’s an urgent message from command. You’re required to contact them now.” Cody stated, his voice never betraying the lie as he kept his eyes on Obi-Wan and Obi-Wan alone even as he made sure his voice was loud enough to be heard by those around them over the music.

And therefore he saw the look of relief pass on the others face, just for a few seconds before it went blank and he turned to the Senator. “Excuse me, it seems I am needed for the war effort.” He murmured, gesturing for Cody to lead the way.

And lead Cody did, his eyes not missing Skywalker slipping out of a side door on the opposite end, both Jedi escaping from the view of Senators.

Cody was going to get answers and he was rather sure he wasn’t going to like them, especially not with the knowledge he had about Padawan’s of the order already experiencing sexual assault in the wide galaxy.

‘What if… what if it happens because there’s already something going on, things the rest of the galaxy only hears rumors of and yet…’ His mind buzzed with the thought, of Skywalker saying they weren’t allowed to say no.

Cody would have answers and he would have them soon.

Can Fox be thirsting for that Obi-wan booty the way Obi-wan thirsts for dem tiddies?

Posted on av swmoddy

Now, Fox wouldn’t necessarily say he was gloating or that he was a petty man at heart.

But he also kinda was, ignoring Cody glowering at him, practically trembling in rage as he watched Fox pour himself a large cup of caff into his ‘best boss’ mug, Rex physically keeping a hand on their vod shoulder to keep him sitting at the table.

Fox had simply come to the officer rec room to get himself some damn coffee, his office didn’t have a personal caff machine after all and it wasn’t his fault that Obi-Wan had chosen him and not Cody, that Obi-Wan had a thing for Fox rather ample chest.

And Fox would have been an idiot to say no to the Jedi after spending time with him, he might not get what the Chancellor saw in Skywalker, the General was brash and a bit unhinged in Fox personal opinion but Obi-Wan?

Manda, Fox would be happy to lay his life on the line for Obi-Wan.

It wasn’t just the sex either.

No, sex alone wouldn’t be enough to make Fox want to do anything like that.

No, Obi-Wan was smart, he could make Fox laugh, the way Obi-Wan curled his hair around his ears was endearing, he was skilled. It made Fox feel things that he shouldn’t really but like hell he was willing to give up on it.

So yeah, Fox was willing to do quite a bit for Obi-Wan, not that the Jedi would ever ask for it.

Which was… also one of the reasons Fox was attracted to him.

Grabbing the sugar shaker, Fox quietly let out a sigh of relief when he found there was still some left. He didn’t exactly mind black caff but honestly, he preferred being able to add a pinch or two of sugar or in worst case scenario, a splash of blue cream.

Though he had also had honey once in his coffee, curtsy of Obi-Wan having brought a jar with him for his tea that he let Fox keep, but that one… well that one was for special occasions.

That jar was for when Obi-Wan came to see him.

‘Which won’t last much longer now… we’re soon done with the overview and he’ll go back to fighting among the stars and planets,’ Fox paused, staring into his cup as the dark liquid reflected his own image back. ‘Back with Cody…’

He and Obi-Wan hadn’t really talked about this thing they had going and with a pang, Fox realized that the concept of it simply being sex for the other hurt him.

That was new.

He had gotten used to the scorn of his fellow vode, either out of jealousy or how different the Coruscant guard were to those out in the field that risked their lives while the CG were ‘safe’ back on Coruscant…

It hurt too of course but it was a tempered hurt, old.

Commander Fox along with Thire and Thorn had adapted and knitted their own tight group, the CG would protect their own and not all brothers were the same, some were accepting of them too. What made them so much different from the Kamino guard Fox wasn’t sure but some days it pissed him of enough to want to sock someone.

Deep in thought, honestly sulking slightly, Fox missed the presence entering the rec room and missed the minor gasp of air.

What he didn’t miss, was Cody shooting to his feet, saluting as red was creeping up his neck and ears. “General, sir!”

Turning quickly, Fox almost dropped his mug, his mouth actually dropping open as he stared at the General.

It was Obi-Wan alright, smiling slightly, a tinge of red on the top of his ears to indicate he was embarrassed. “At ease Commander.” He murmured softly, soft eyes on Cody before turning to Fox with a gleam in his eyes.

The thing taking Fox off guard however was the clothes Obi-Wan was wearing, the Jedi was wearing the same clothing items that Commander Tano normally did, only his tunic and the bands around the arms were a shade of shimmery green with flashes of pale skin appearing here and there and he had his normal knee height, boots on, clashing slightly with the color of the shirt and yet Fox couldn’t get himself to care about that.

What the hell was fashion to a military commander!

‘Teal, that’s teal right? I think I remember one of the Senators wearing something like that and insisting it was ocean teal?’ Fox thought dazedly, working on auto-pilot as he saluted the man too. “General Kenobi.” He rasped, hoping his voice didn’t sound as thick as he felt it was.

Considering how Obi-Wan’s smile grew, something at least was up. “Commander Fox, Tire told me to find you here. I came to finish up the last of our work if possible, unless the Chancellor has decided to give us more,” The Jedi stated, voice warm. “We weren’t far from done last time after all.” He tacked on.

Fox swallowed, dropping his hand as he let his eyes hungrily trail the little diamond flashes of pale skin that the leggings and shirt exposed, along with that little window in the chest. Somehow, that was even more enticing than Obi-Wan simply being nude, the little tantalizing flashes on the usually so modestly covered Jedi, even the V of his neck covered by a shirt under the tunic. “Of course sir, and as far as I’m aware, he has not.” Fox was still working on auto-pilot, taking a step forward to follow Obi-Wan only to freeze when the Jedi turned around.

Sweet manda, Obi-Wan’s tunic was doing the man a disservice because in the skin tight leggings and shirt, Obi-Wan’s bubble butt was perfectly on display.

Tack on the flashes of skin and the way the bands brought attention to Obi-Wan’s defined arms and this Jedi could knock anyone dead with a look.

If Fox started jogging slightly and was grateful for the codpiece even if it was strangling him… well, that was his problem.

Though soon it be Obi-Wan’s problem to solve, heh.

Any chance of getting more tomeyoubelong? When Obi-wan showers? Or perhaps when Obi-wan gets a little more clear headed?

Posted on av swmoddy

How the kark he had managed to get Obi-Wan out of his nest, Vader had
no idea but he had, supporting the stumbling and whining omega
against his own body the entire way as he clung to Vader in turn.

Obi-Wan
was apparently even more nest bound than any other omega Vader had
ever been around. But that could logically be due to Obi-Wan’s
instincts, the omega being alone and in fear for himself on an
underdeveloped world with slavery going and a hutt overlord.

So he
got the why even as he struggled to get Obi-Wan out of the rough spun
tunic and leggings, cursing quietly when Obi-Wan’s leggings got
stuck partway down.

Nudity
wasn’t a rare thing among the Jedi order, so it wouldn’t be the
first time Vader had seen the other naked but to see him again now…

Vader
paused, staring, disconcerted at the sight of Obi-Wan’s ribs and
the hollow that was his stomach.

No
wonder Obi-Wan couldn’t carry a pup.

It
would be beyond dangerous with him this skinny, male omegas needed a
small amount of extra weight due to their bodies not having the same
fat deposits that females had, to be able to handle both the strain
of a pregnancy and for what came after.

And
then there were the new scars.

Vader
felt something, the echo of guilt, when he found red lashings curling
over Obi-Wan’s body, but he forced himself not to think about it as
Obi-Wan gave a whimper and shook like a leaf, looking like he was
about to flee back to his tiny nest.

“Shh,
no, its alright. We need to get you clean Obi-Wan.” Vader soothed,
trying not to feel pity with the pathetic sight.

But
for all that Vader had been… was angry, with the Jedi, he was also
and alpha and his hind mind was kicking in hard to see the shivering,
naked and starved omega in front of him, slick visibly shining
between his legs.

“A-Ani.”
The omega whined out, his voice miserable and pathetic as he stared
plaintively at the alpha, arms wrapped around himself as goosebumps
broke out on his skin.

Stiffening
in shock, Vader stared at the redhead. That was the first time
Obi-Wan had spoken his name since he arrived and it was…

‘No…
No Anakin Skywalker is dead. That name means nothing.’ He
sternly told himself even as he reached out to push Obi-Wan into the
shower first.

Luckily,
Obi-Wan went willingly, still watching Vader as the Sith undressed
himself and set his clothes aside, the Sith dallying a bit before
taking a deep breath and pressing himself into the small shower with
his former master.

He
couldn’t move without rubbing up against Obi-Wan and he had to
fight the natural reaction he had to being so close to Obi-Wan, the
alpha in his mind roaring at him even as he rumbled soothingly at the
other, turning the sonic shower on.

Obi-Wan
let out a little yelp, pushing into Vader’s body, whining loudly as
he hid his face in the blonds shoulder.

‘What
the!’ Vader flailed a bit in shock, his elbows knocking against the
wall of the tiny shower, staring at the side of Obi-Wan’s head
before breathing out in shock and freezing as he stared down
Obi-Wan’s back.

Along
the others back, a wide, still vividly pink on pale skin, slashing
scar stood out, raised and swollen but not infected.

And
for all that Vader would deny to the name Anakin Skywalker, he still
recognized that kind of scar.

A
whip.

Obi-Wan
had encountered a whip and that was recent.

Not
only that, like this, Vader could also see Obi-Wan’s bonding gland,
swollen as it was due to heat.

It was
scarred.

Hand
shaking, Vader raised his hand as if in a trance and touched it, a
half suppressed memory of Obi-Wan speaking about the Force healing
bonding glands and forced mating.

It had
been a half payed attention to lesson, one Obi-Wan had given up on
when it was clear Anakin wasn’t listening and instead had turned
into a ‘please Anakin, if you are forcibly bonded, come to me,
I’ll help you.’ plea.

“Ani?”
A little whimper broke Vader from his thoughts, Obi-Wan shivering
against him as he looked up with wide eyes.

Forcing
a smile at him before reaching for the rough washcloth, Vader purred
at the other. “It’s alright, lets get you clean, alright?” He
murmured, his voice sounding hoarse as he went to work.

Squirming
at the touches, Obi-Wan seemed to know that something was up but got
distracted by the washcloth, whining a bit louder.

‘I
should have gotten Piett to bring a softer clothed thing… damn it.’
Vader forced his mind to focus on the situation.

He’d
deal with everything else later.