#....... and i am ready for daddy boba 👀

[daimyosprincess]

OMG OMG OMG I'm hooked!!

I have so many questions about the princess, how is she so strong, what made her able to withstand such intense torture? How did she escape imprisonment? How does she feel about Boba 👀

This story has so much potential for where things could lead, especially with what Fennec (my beloved) mentioned about having a trained princess to lend credibility to Boba's fledgling operation.

Also I love the sparse yet poetic writing style, it reminds me of a someone recounting a fairy tale almost (like how the grandpa read the Princess Bride book in the movie, idk if that even makes sense lol).

More thoughts under the cut

The Princess sighed and some of the tension eased out of her. A small kingdom was still a kingdom, and she understood that the subtle gesture of a chaste kiss was as if Fett had taken her into his armor.

(this is from part 3) Subtle yet extremely meaningful gestures in my house?? YES PLEASE

She turned to face the Dune Spider and pointed her index finger into the air. The Dune Spider raised itself to its full height and clapped its front legs together in a threat display. The Princess clicked her tongue and reached into her bait bag for a meat sphere. She tossed it up high and the Dune Spider speared it out of the air with the sharp dagger of his front leg. The squelching sound of the gelatinous ball made one of the emissaries blanch.

This was such a baddie move of her tbh and I love her for it

“Respectfully, Daimyo, what use have you for a princess in exile?” asked an envoy with an especially cadaverous face. “I think I could find some use for an army of trained Dune Spiders,” Fett replied with a chuckle. “You’re dismissed, gentlemen.”

Boba really said get fuckin wrecked lmfao. This is very Boba though, he's all for self-determination and doesn't take anyone's shit (except Fennec but it's reciprocal so it's different lol)

Part IV of a fic that needs a name and, if we’re being honest with each other, a bit more direction. Eventual smut, but apparently I like a slow burn and lots of character development.

Parts I, II, and III are all available should you need them. I hope this fic finds the audience who needs it the most.

tw: rather large arachnids, misogyny, objectification, trauma, erotic longing, Daddy kink (if you squint)

…

She got along well with all manner of animals, domestic and otherwise, so what transpired when the small contingent of diplomatic emissaries, ministers plenipotentiaries, and a dull-eyed prince arrived should not have surprised Daimyo Fett.

The Princess was less inclined to wander than when he’d first met her on Brao, so after a few weeks Fett left her to her own devices. She still accompanied him into town with Fennec and the Gamorreans, but otherwise she was free to do as she liked. The Princess and Drash became fast friends, as he suspected they would. Drash was ill-suited to be the handmaiden of a princess, but that was just as well. What The Princess needed was a partner in crime. When he heard them giggling together, he was reminded how young she was and he felt a pang of guilt for finding her so attractive.

The contingent arrived at midday, hailing from The Princess’ home system - the neighboring planet Tilmov from which the system took its name. Fett, having spent the morning receiving tributes and hearing grievances, had seen neither hide nor hair of The Princess when 8D8 announced the names and ranks of each member of the pompous little flock of politicians and royalty. Somehow, Fett knew this was about her.

Fennec snorted audibly when Minister Plenipotentiary Sanroinov made the offer. In exchange for The Princess’ hand in marriage (as if it was Fett’s to give) there would be a surprisingly hefty dowry and a treaty with the acting Prime Minister of Brao absolving her of her father’s crimes and thus the death penalty.

“LEP,” Fett called to the ratcatcher droid. “Fetch the princess. Have her come to the throne room.”

Her fancy-bred tooka, having taken to Fennec, sauntered lazily into the throne room and made his way to her side. She lifted him up and held him in her arms like a baby.

“Fru, can you believe these pompous little dwarfnuts?” she murmured in her best approximation of baby talk.

Fett chuckled.

In walked The Princess, as regal as ever, carrying a burlap bait bag with a Dune Spider the size of an astromech droid trailing obediently behind her. Fett had seen The Princess and Drash in the kitchen teasing each other into fits of laughter as they crafted balls of gelatin and meat the size of black melons. He’d wondered at the time what they were for, and now he had his answer. As she approached the throne, Fett caught the expressions of genuine shock on the faces of the contingency from Tilmov. Whatever happened next would surely be entertaining.

“Princess, what have you got here?”

“Oh - I trained him. Look!”

She turned to face the Dune Spider and pointed her index finger into the air. The Dune Spider raised itself to its full height and clapped its front legs together in a threat display. The Princess clicked her tongue and reached into her bait bag for a meat sphere. She tossed it up high and the Dune Spider speared it out of the air with the sharp dagger of his front leg. The squelching sound of the gelatinous ball made one of the emissaries blanch.

“Ah, very good Princess!” Fett exclaimed proudly. “These men are here from Tilmov. The prince here has offered a dowry and a treaty of absolvement in exchange for your hand in marriage.”

The Princess stiffened. Her brows knit together.

Fett continued. “Have you any interest in marrying this prince?”

“No,” she replied, visibly nervous.

“Very well then,” Fett turned to address the Tilmov dignitaries. “You have your answer. You may return to Tilmov. Princess, run along and check the larder for sweetbreads and have 8D8 order as much as you need. Take your new pet with you.”

The Princess let go of the breath she’d been holding and her eyes brightened. She picked up her skirts and trotted off towards the kitchen, the Dune Spider skittering enthusiastically behind her.

“Respectfully, Daimyo, what use have you for a princess in exile?” asked an envoy with an especially cadaverous face.

“I think I could find some use for an army of trained Dune Spiders,” Fett replied with a chuckle. “You’re dismissed, gentlemen.”

…

Feedback would be lovely. I honestly have no idea where to go next. Requests are open.