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techtalksfics · 2 years ago

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Where's your toothpick? (Crosshair x f!Reader)

Instead of studying, I have sat here and written this fic. It's quite rushed because I actually need to get my law degree. There are no degrees from bad batch lovers. Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: heavy drinking (i guess)

Word Count: 1,884

You and your best friend, Jenshay (or Jen, for short), often frequented 79s, the clone bar. You liked the stories the clones told, you liked that a fight happened every, single time. But most of all, you really liked Crosshair.

The only problem? It would seem that Crosshair did not like you.

You sighed at the thought. Shaking off your insecurities, you finished getting ready for the evening. Choosing out your favourite red dress, which tied at the waist, showed off both your figure and your breasts, you quickly push the dress over your head and pull it down.

The doorbell rang as you began to tie your dress. Swerving around furniture, you check the comm to make sure it was Jen. You had a persistent and unpleasant neighbour who always seemed to be in the corridor when you were arriving or leaving. You dreaded to think how.

Letting Jen in, you could already smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Jeez Jen,” you laughed, “already pre-drinking?”

“Always, you know me.” A rather sad statement to make, you thought. “So, you hoping for a certain silent sniper to be there this evening?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You retorted whilst fixing your hair in the mirror. Your friend snorted. You knew you liked Crosshair. She knew you liked Crosshair. Interestingly, Tech knew you liked Crosshair. So, who didn’t know at this point?

Well… Crosshair would be one of the only ones it would seem.

Grabbing your satchel, you grabbed her hand and pulled her to your door. Checking the comms for creepy neighbours quickly and seeing that the coast was clear, you both ran to the lift and left for your night out.

------------------------

As you exited the air taxi, you made sure that Jen did not trip and fall before you got to the door. So, you held her at the waist, just in case. She probably wasn’t drunk enough to be refused entry, but you didn’t want to risk it.

You’d heard the Bad Batch were temporarily in Coruscant, the first time in many, many rotations. So you did not want to miss your chance to… well, stare longingly, at Crosshair.

Luckily, you managed to get into the bar and were greeted by the Wolfpack. Your second favourite clone trooper squadron. Letting go of Jen’s waist, you were pulled into a hug by Commander Woolfe. You had grown close after he saved you from a potentially fatal mugging a few years earlier.

“It’s good to see you, kid.” His voice shouted into your ear. As you pulled back, he held you in place for a moment, his eyes fixed on you. He gave a smirk and said, “though based on those colours, it’s not this squadron you’re here to see.” He raised his eyebrow at you.

Great, is there anybody who doesn’t know, you wondered.

“There on the back table, as usual.” Woolfe hugged you once more and whispered, “I do not know what you see in that group of misfits.” Whilst returning the hug, your eyes drifted towards the back of the bar, where you saw Clone Force 99. A small smile graced your lips.

But before you could even approach them, one thing was in order. Grabbing Jen by her arm, you shouted, “SHOTS?” Liquid courage couldn’t hurt. Particularly as the sober one. She looked at you like you’d proposed marriage and shouted a big ‘yes’ back at you.

Pulling her to the bar, you managed to get the immediate attention of the bartender, who greeted you as she always does, with a smile and a ‘what can I get ya’? Like she doesn’t already know.

“Four Antakarian Fire-“ you start.

“- Fire Dancers, I should’a known.” She shakes her head and chuckles. “Coming right up.” As she prepares your drinks and Jen rambles on about her love of the Wolfpack, you take the chance to glance at the 99 boys. As your eyes drift over the familiar sights of Tech with his PADD typing away, Wrecker eating his food and Hunter broodingly watching the scenes happening before him, you noticed one thing. One off thing. Crosshair was looking directly at you and once he caught your gaze, he shifted the toothpick in his mouth from left to right and smirked.

With an embarrassed blush, you turn back to the bar and paid for the drinks which arrived right on cue.

After a ‘3, 2, 1’ countdown, you and Jen downed the first shot. The fire of the drink is undisputed, and your face squelched together from the warm, strong alcohol goes down your throat.

Because you were unlucky, Crosshair walked past at the exact moment that your face had contorted into a horrific image after taking the shot. He walked past, eyebrow raised and as usual, said nothing. Great, you cursed.

Downing the second shot in shame, you asked the bartender for a Revnog before making your way over to see your favourite clones. With a smile, you sat down next to Wrecker and offered up a ‘hello’.

“Ah, we wondered if we would see you here tonight,” Tech said, placing the PADD down temporarily. He was always willing to chat with you.

“Y/N!” Wrecker bellowed, “if it isn’t our favourite civilian!” You laughed as he spoke, grabbing you around the shoulder, pulling you in for a side hug.

“She’s the only civilian you know, Wrecker.” Crosshair commented as he made his way around the table. “Y/N, shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on Jen?” He said, pointing his toothpick at Jen. You turned and saw she had, in fact, gotten on the table to dance. You put your face in your hands and turned back to face them.

“She’d been pre-drinking before we came out.” You took a sip of your drink. “The Wolfpack are here though, so she won’t be able to do too much damage without them stepping in.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the handsome soldier. Instead, you turned your attention to Tech with an awkward cough, “what are you working on today then, Tech?”

As Tech explained, in detail, his latest research on tactical droid schematics and tactics, you listened intently. Occasionally, your eyes would drift to Crosshair…as they always do. Usually, he does not pay attention to you but not tonight, tonight he looked at you with fiery gaze. One you could not discern. It was unsettling but you could feel your skin heating and the blush on your face darkened.

Well, at least it was dark in this place.

As you finished your drink, you announced that you were going to get a round for the table. Stumbling upwards, and cursing for your lack of grace, you made your way back to the bar. Back to safety.

Jen noticed you and clambered off the table, she flounced over to you and asked, “how’s it going the Crosshair?”

“I’d have better luck seducing a Rancor.” You moaned.

----------------------

“I don’t understand why you don’t just talk to her.” Hunter goaded Crosshair, “she’s a sweet girl.”

“I don’t like sweet things.” Crosshair retorted, taking a quick sip of his drink.

“Well, you like this sweet thing.” Wrecker’s laugh boomed around the bar which caused Crosshair to cringe, physically retreating further into the darkness.

However, he couldn’t help but look at you. Your gorgeous brown hair curling around your shoulders and back, swaying as you laughed at whatever Jen had said. You were wearing red and dark grey, his red and dark grey. Was that on purpose? He had secretly loved how you always sat with his brothers on these rare nights out. Nobody would normally do that. He also secretly loved when your green eyes always drifted towards him.

The entire Wolfpack loved you; he’d even seen you with the 501st battalion on occasion. But you always looked at him.

Secretly, and he would never admit it, he liked almost everything about you. He grumbled nothingness to himself and stayed routed in the corner.

---------------------------

After a few more drinks, you decided Jen had better go home. You signalled Commander Woolf as he was always good at convincing Jen that she’d had too much.

Woolf rushed straight over and backed you up when you told Jen she should go home and sleep it off.

She whined but complied and stumbled slightly. She let out a ridiculous laugh and held her arm out to you. You held her up as she shouted, “I’m being booted from the building boys, I’ll see ya soon!” There came a number of ‘byes’ and even one ‘I’ll take you home, princess’ which was disturbing, to say the least.

Helping Jen to the door, Woolf politely held it open for you and you exited into the cool night. The air hit your lungs and the booze hit your system. Jesus, maybe you should go home too. First, Jen. Get Jen into an air taxi. So you did your duty, as you had done many times before. As the taxi sped away, you let out a breath you didn’t realise you’d be holding. Staring out as the speeders raced on pass the bar, you debated your next steps.

“I could go back in and try again,” you debated allowed, “who am I kidding? He’s never going to want me.”

“They say talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, you know.” Crosshair’s grizzly baritone came from behind you. You screwed your eyes shut. Of course he’s behind you right now. You turned on your heel to face him and retorted, “I never once said I was sane.” He smirked and uttered one word, true.

He took two small steps towards you, the movement was confident. He knew you couldn’t step backwards as you’d fall your death, so you were trapped. Trapped worked for him.

“So,” he said, taking the toothpick out of his mouth, “who doesn’t want you?” Knowing you were trapped, you tried to think of a quick way out of this.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was your inability to think about anything in his presence, you weren’t sure. But you uttered one word back, “you.” He took another step forward and suddenly he was close that you could feel his armour pressing against your exposed cleavage.

“I never once said I didn’t want you.” He was mimicking your words, toying with you, surely.

And yet, within the next second, his lips were on yours. The kiss was fierce, as you always thought it would be. His hands came up to cup your face as he deepened the kiss. His hands were not only holding your face to his but at this point, were holding you upright.

Your hands found his waist, pulling him closer to you. His tongue invaded your mouth, playing with yours. Toying with you, as he always does. He pulled back ever so slightly and you were worried the kiss was ending but instead, his nose rubbed over yours gently and he approached you from the other side. He deepened the kiss once again.

When he finally pulled back to look at you, you realised something. “Where’s your toothpick gone?” “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” He chuckled darkly and looked at you, with a slight squint. “I have more. Don’t worry.”

#crosshair x reader #crosshair fic #star wars bad batch #star wars tbb #tech bad batch #hunter bad batch #wrecker bad batch

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car-lizzzle · 1 year ago

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Uh hot take. But don't worry this is a first of many to come🔥🔥

It irks me that members of this fandom(Yes, I am talking to you team Jacob/wolfpack) are still yet to understand the narrative or role in which the wolves played in the story of twilight. I can't believe that some people think to this day that the wolves were really presented to be the antagonists of Twilight. They don't even realize the harm that that's actually causing to our own particular ideals when we do that. Erasing the trauma and all the shit they had to go through, as young boys at that(not even to mention my girl leah) at the hands of these sinister creatures. And what's worse is that their actions make sense in narrative as the reaction to the many social and ethical issues occurring in the story. It all makes sense!! Never were the wolves meant or presented to be irrational. When will people realize that the Cullen's word is not law. They are often times racist, genocidal, misogynistic, classist, and many other things. What any of them says or implies in the story may in no way be true but are based upon their own individual prejudices and moral viewpoints. They're not the primary narrator of these books, Bella is. Their thoughts and ideals are not the primary narrative. Their words or their theories are not law or actual truth in canon) A lot of the characters in twilight are hypocrites. But especially the cullens. In no way shape or form should we take the anything the cullens say as the actual narrative. And I'm honestly disappointed that so many do. Especially supposedly sensible people in this fandom. It is honestly in many ways a result of all the paranoid reading many on this site engage in but especially those in the twilight fandom. And coming from a Black Amerindian woman, I find it really interesting that many of the things Twilight, and in the case of Smeyer(yes, her mormomism but thats another contentious thread im coming back to later) are presented as doing are really just a projection of many own implicit racial biases and how themselves see and view BIPOC characters. Hmmm it's really telling...

#twilight #twilight renaissance #team jacob #hot take #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #rosalie hale #emmett cullen #jasper hale #alice cullen #esme cullen #embry call #billy black #jared cameron #sam uley #leah clearwater #jacob black #paul lahote #bella swan

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fuckmeyer · 1 year ago

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Will we ever see the deleted from the CN epilogue again? Because, uh, I kinda loved it 👀

i did too. sad it had to go, but happy with the results. you will see it again. it was dismantled and reconfigured for the next book.

here's the original - knock yourself out:

COME NIGHTFALL: EPILOGUE V1 DELETED SCENE

[WARNINGS: Come Nightfall: Epilogue spoilers (duh), 18+ smut]

WC: 4200

***

And so, everyone lived happily ever after forever and ever in the childhood kingdom where nobody dies.

The end.

…Kinda.

I.e., Everything was back to normal.

Also sorta kinda fucked up.

“Back to normal” meaning between the hours of sunup and sundown, not much had changed. Victoria and Mystery Man hadn’t returned since the day of The Plan. With more bandwidth to breathe, I resumed cooking, cleaning, reading, training with the wolfpack, and knocking off bucket list items with Jake before his move to LA. Charlie’s law of the land meant I had to check-in periodically. However, Harry's death had made him detached— and consequently, lenient.

Only between the hours of sundown and sunup was I kept on a short leash. All nighttime affairs had to be scheduled and preapproved by the old man. Otherwise, I had to be home before dark.

No problem. I was always home. Ready. Waiting.

Nighttime was when the “fucked up” part came in.

Edward would slip through my window after Charlie went to bed. Every night he risked being caught by the wolfpack to stay with me. Every morning I kicked him out before the sun rose. In between, I would lie in bed with my (ex-boyfriend? lover? partner? mate? Ugh) vampire until I fell asleep. Sometimes Edward and I would read— bells hooks and Baudelaire, respectively— only speaking to recite striking quotes. Sometimes we would split earbuds and listen in silence to mixtape CDs we burned that day. Sometimes we did and said nothing— only held each other. When Edward would tremble I would lay his head over my beating heart, and he would soften and still. When I would cry Edward’s cold tongue would lap up the tears trailing down my throat, and the warming, icy venom would sink me into a state of serenity.

Apart from the reassurance his presence gave me, he was a great nightmare deterrent. Because of him I had basically managed to wean myself off the sleep meds. (Now I kept them stowed away. They seemed to upset him.)

Not as to say the nightmares disappeared. Whispers of terror still snagged on the thorns of my mind. The woman with the rosary, Irina’s decapitation, Laurent pouncing for the kill, Victoria’s green sparkles—all had rotten roots that had wormed deep in my psyche.

Of these, the most terrifying were ones where I would discover that Italy had never happened. Edward had never come home. I would stumble into the bathroom and stare back at the hundred-year-old lady in the mirror. Despite decades passing— graying my hair, wrinkling my face, decaying me slowly— those grieving goldstone-brown eyes remained unchanging. My wrinkled, knobby hands would scratch at the mirror, hoping to climb inside some alternate reality. When that didn’t work, I would start hitting the glass, desperate to shatter my reflection—

Cold arms calmed my thrashing. Edward would wrap himself around me, muffling my breaths. His fingers, warm from my body heat, would caress the bare skin underneath my shirt, scattering oxytocin through my body as he whispered, “It’s okay. Shh. I’m here. You’re safe.”

It never made sense. Of course he wasn’t here. He couldn't be. I would tell "him" this through frantic whispers starting along the lines of, “No, you’re not, not real, not—”

“Shh, Bells, you’re awake, I am here—”

—and end with an aching, desperate plea: “Edward, don't go, I need you.”

Need you. Need something . Need a break. A breath. Release. For all life’s normalcy, the raging chaos behind the scenes still set me on edge. I was too tightly wound even with the extra bandwidth. So many lines to toe with so little time: sunup, sundown; live, die; together, apart; hold on—

“Let go,” he purred.

His freezing lips latched onto my breast again.

Cursing, my hands fisted tufts of his hair. Between rhythmic sucking, his soft tongue lapped at the stiff peak of my nipple. The vibrations from Edward’s moan sent pinpricks scattering across my skin. My heart raced under his touch.

This morning, jolting awake from a particularly nasty nightmare, I’d kissed him full-force in the darkness of dawn, desperate for a taste after decades of growing old alone. Slices of sunshine now spilled across twisted bedsheets and our bare skin. How long had we been here? How the hell had Edward managed to go from vestal vampire to this with just one kiss? Maybe this wasn’t real after all and—

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Breathe.”

He kissed a path to the other one, swirled his tongue around the stiff peak, and suckled. Electricity crackled through my core at a fever pitch.

Okay. Real. Too real.

I tried to breathe. No, really. But Edward was a master at sucking. Go figure. Bonus, he remembered exactly what I liked and how. Bonus bonus, venom felt way better than I remembered. Rainbow fractals pulsed and whirled in the sunlight while flashes of hot and cold needled the flesh where his tongue touched.

So, breathing? Impossible. Ragged breaths always devolved into frantic panting. And when his fingers once again rubbed the soaked spot on my cotton shorts—

“God,” I gasped, back arching. “Too much.”

“You’re so sensitive now.”

“It’s—” I shuddered on the downstroke “—been a while.”

“A long while?”

“Since before you left.”

“For me as well. —Breathe, Bells.”

“I can’t. Breathe. When you’re doing. That.”

A wicked grin stretched across his lips. His eyes glinted a subtle pink in sunlight. “I can stop if you—”

“Nonono.” I seized his wrist to hold him there, right there. “Don’t stop, don’t stop; please don’t stop.”

He chuckled. “Me? Never.” Even preoccupied, I managed to scoff. “Not now. You’re close. I can feel how close you are.” I rutted against his fingers, trembling at the vibration of his growl. His teeth tugged my earlobe. Feral whispers flossed through my brain, almost drowned out by my breaths. “Close. Wet. Hot. Mine.”

“Mine, mine, faster— like that—"

“Yes. Come. For me. Breathe. Let go—"

A delirious giggle burst from my mouth. “Shut up.” I slammed my foot into his thigh. He laughed too. “Damn you. I’m letting go.”

“You’re doing no such thing.”

“I’m doing my best,” I said. He snorted. “I don’t need your frickin advice.”

“Suit yourself.” Edward concentrated his circular strokes to give me friction where I craved it most. The slippery cotton rubbed against the swollen bud at the top of my folds. Trails of fire spread down my thighs, so searing I twitched and squirmed. “Tell me what you need.”

I groaned. “I need…”

“What do you need?

“I need…”

“Say it.”

My hand roamed down his chest until I brushed the tented fabric of his boxers. “I need…”

Stiffening, Edward jerked his hips back.

“Edward.”

“Isabella.”

“I need to touch you. Please.”

“I appreciate your generosity.” His laugh was tight and hoarse. “I don’t have the control for that.”

“Then you touch you.”

“And touch you? I would have even less control.”

My exhale bordered a whine. Even in my delirium, I knew my request had been a longshot. For all the strides we had made during our relationship, Edward never let me touch him. Ever.

“Then can we…can we do…that thing…we used to do?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“S-San Francisco. The night we…”

“That doesn’t narrow it down.”

I huffed. There were few games Edward loved to play more than getting me to open my unfiltered mind. Especially in bed.

“I wanna…watch,” I blurted out. “I want to watch you touch yourself.”

Edward’s hand stilled. Wide-eyed, his gaze roamed up to my face.

“Oh.”

Needless to say, my sexuality superseding my shyness was a rare occurrence.

“Please,” I said. Hot blood blazed across my cheeks; my head pounded. “Please. You can watch me.”

“I…” I swear he’d be blushing if he was human. “I…” His uncertain sigh bordered a groan. “I don’t think I can—”

“Yes. You can. You’ve done it. Multiple times.”

“After months of practice.”

“Which you clearly haven’t forgotten.”

“I seem to recall not twenty minutes ago an imminent danger of you spontaneously combusting if I didn’t touch you.”

I chortled. “It won’t help me if you’re still wound up.” I placed a hand on my chest to illustrate my point. “You know how it goes.”

“I’ll take care of it later.”

“Take care of it now.”

I reached for him again. He chuckled, intercepting my hand and placing it in the space between us.

“Do you know what would make me spontaneously combust?”

“If I ripped off your limbs and tossed your body on a burning pyre?” His eyes narrowed. “Oh, you mean sexually? Uhh…”

“Not being able to kiss you.”

“That was my second guess.”

“I want— need — to kiss you, Bells.” His voice ached with desire. “God, the only thing that would make me lose more control than burying my everything inside of you would be not kissing you at all.”

“I… I did kiss you.”

Noting the hesitation in my tone, he said, “I respect your condition. Forever or nothing. I’m coming to terms with…that. I am trying.”

“I know you are,” I said softly.

“In the meantime, if a platonic relationship with you increases our odds of being together in any form, I will do it; if satisfying you sexually increases our odds of being together, I will do it. I will do anything you wish. But if your wish is to satisfy me… ”

“Kiss you, huh?” Nervousness— or fear?— boiled up into my throat. I leaned in close until our foreheads touched. Breathing him in usually calmed me down, but now it made me shake. I rubbed my arousal-slicked thighs together. I wanted to resume. So bad. He move to seal our lips, but I said, “Sir, I believe that is against one of the several tenants of Edward Cullen’s Ground Rules for Vampire-Human Sexual Relations.”

“Indeed. Which I still expect you to follow. If…” Shier, softer, he added, “In the event that you consent to kiss me, of course." I bit my lip. "I know. I know it’s different for you now. Perhaps for that reason you don’t want to, but for me—”

Before shame could overtake him, I smothered his mouth with mine. Shuddering, he whimpered. I stole his sound with another kiss. Another. I could live in his mouth. I could drown in his venom.

Just when his kisses turned urgent and aggressive, I broke and whispered, “I'll kiss you. I’ll come for you. I'll follow the rules. I’ll let go. For you. I will. If you come for me. Please, Edward.”

He didn’t answer, only cupped my cheek and pulled my mouth back to his, fierce and hungry. Seeing his willpower unravel made my veins zing with adrenaline.

He said, “I’ve missed you; god, I’ve missed you," and stole another deep kiss.

“How much?”

“Very much.”

“How much?”

Edward captured my lips again. A slow guttural thunder erupted deep inside him.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Show me," I commanded.

He didn’t move until I detangled myself from him (another ground rule: no touching). Using the same hand that had touched me, he slowly grasped his shaft through his boxers. A bead of precum darkened the fabric.

Heart racing, I moved my hand back between my legs. For a moment his eyes closed, his lips ghosting words as he listened to the slick sounds of my silk-drenched fingers stroking my slit. My heartbeat thumped so hard my whole body seemed to quake.

He swallowed. Froze. Swallowed again. This was a common sight when we first started getting intimate— venom flooding his mouth in waves. I slowed, watching for warning cues in his slipping control.

Only when I stopped did his midnight eyes snap to my face.

My breathing ceased.

When his hand began to move, so did mine.

Eyes black, he watched me, unblinking. My fingers circling my clit under the fabric of my shorts. My licking my lips. My hooded eyes watching him touch himself. He was grinding into his hand. Pumping up and down. Faster. Stroking himself. To me. To my cadence. Our rhythm. Our scent. Us. I slipped a finger into my scalding heat, imagining his cold length buried inside me, and rode my hand in breathy gasps. Every cell in my body vibrated at the frequency of his growl; I gripped the bedsheets to keep from reaching out. An exquisite burn licked my insides as though I were being pulled up to the pits of an erupting volcano; god, I—

“I’m going to—”

“Me too.”

“Bells.”

Ripples of heat surged through my veins at the desperate hush of my name.

“Edward, Edward...”

“Come for me, love.”

“Yes.”

“Come with me.”

“Yes, Edward—"

When the heat hit the tips of my fingers and toes, everything shattered. Lights flashed. Energy crackled. I threw my head back and cried out as waves of lava melted my spine and my skin and the rest of me. Venom lit my veins on fire. My jaw wired shut, desperate to bite down on something. From far away, Edward’s muffled groan and seams ripping snapped me back to reality. His erection throbbed in his vice grip, growing damp at the head as pulses of come saturated the fabric. A strangled growl rumbled in his chest.

We collapsed together as the last of my orgasm prickled like a cold sweat into a warm, sparkly afterglow. The flush in my cheeks made my head pound. Our ragged breaths filled the air.

He panted, “Kiss me,” just as I rolled over and seized him by the undershirt. We consumed each other. Cold velvety lips slick with cinnamon venom opened to mine. I sunk deeper into his mouth. Edward hitched my leg around his waist, and our hips rolled in sync. The rhythmic creak of the bed quickened. Between our scent, our tongues, our come, it was too much, too good…

“I love you.”

“Again,” I begged between kisses.

“We’re on a schedule.”

“Let’s reschedule.”

“Not again.”

“Why not? They’re vampires. They can reschedule till the end of time.”

Though he broke our kiss to speak, his hands kept kneading my curves on their own accord. “Be nice. They’re awfully anxious to see you.” His lips attacked the delicate, sensitive flesh where my jaw met my neck; I shivered and moaned. He brushed away a strand of my hair as he spoke. “They think you’re still avoiding me, you know. You’re giving them the impression you’re angry at us.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that I…”

Looking up, he cocked a brow. We held our gaze.

I groaned. Edward chuckled under his breath. Defeated, my head slumped against his.

Edward repositioned us and laid back against the headboard. Tucked into him, I waited for the room to spin back into place. Colors and shadows breathed into each other. The world felt loud, though I swore it was only us on earth. Edward kept combing my hair while he waited for my confession.

“Okay, fine. I’m kinda angry.”

“Understandably so.” He added, in a softer voice, “I will say this. They know as I do how valuable this second chance with you is. If you are angry and need to tell them how you feel, they won’t blame you for doing so. They will listen.”

I rubbed my brows, blotting out fantasies of cursing and screaming and throwing things at the vampires’ stupid perfect heads.

“What is there to say? Carlisle and Alice knew about my history with Victoria. Alice knew James wanted me. I mean…”

“Yes.” Edward’s response was cool. Figures he’d be upset with them too. The only thing he hated more than reading everyone’s mind was being blocked out. I wondered if he knew I had told them not to say (or think) anything.

“They still left. How could they—” I huffed. I drummed my fingers on his exposed skin. It felt like they were casting little lightning bolts. “Whatever. Never mind.”

“It is not ‘whatever’. I think they would rather you share your feelings than ignore them altogether.”

“I won’t ignore them. But this treaty is bigger than how I feel. I’d rather be diplomatic until everything is squared away.”

Edward chuckled. “Well, I won't argue with that. A bit of diplomacy never hurts. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar anyway.”

I sighed, going limp as the last of the venom burned off like glowing embers. Eyes glued to the ceiling, I watched colorful patterns pulse across the shadows.

“Who’s really the fly here?”

I felt Edward’s eyes on me. He didn’t reply.

“Whatever saves the shapeshifters. Whatever buys me time.” My voice was soft. “Plus, it would be great if I didn’t have to smuggle you into Forks every night.”

“Don’t mind me,” he said with a grin. “I enjoy the smuggling. It’s the ‘kicking me out’ part I dislike.”

“That’s just as much for my own sanity as it is for your protection. I have a lot of feelings about…everything.”

However badly I wanted him, each day brought fresh fear. Sometimes I cried. Sometimes I had panic attacks. Sometimes I angrily swore at myself for letting him back in my bed.

No matter what my reaction, in the end, I would pace my room and smell Edward on my sheets and turn my phone over and over in my hands, resisting the urge to call him and beg him to come home.

It was so hard to push past the fear.

“I know.” His expression turned solemn but didn’t lose its kindness. “I appreciate that you have made space in your life for me. I certainly will not take that for granted. Neither will the Cullens.”

Warmth crept up my cheeks at the thought of facing them. My hesitation for visiting stemmed from places other than anger.

“Do they know?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“About us. Our situation.”

Edward snorted. "Do we know our situation?”

Sure. It was everything. It was nothing. It was normal. It was deviant. Beautiful. Ugly. Perfect. Messy. Chaste. Salacious. Ugh.

I drew in a long breath.

“Alice obviously knows,” he answered. “Carlisle has connected enough dots to draw vague— not inaccurate— conclusions. The sheer fact that you and I have been granted temporary amnesty from the Volturi’s law gives my family reason enough to suspect our relationship is exceptional. Beyond that, they know nothing. Alice and I have been tight-lipped in the face of their curiosity. I believe they hope you and I will come out and tell them. When we’re ready.”

Though he said that last part quietly, it relieved me that he said it at all. I didn’t want him to think I was rejecting him. I just wasn’t ready. To…mate. Ugh. Gross.

“What will we tell them— when we’re ready?”

“I should think that would be up to you. As much or as little as you want. Depending on what you want.”

“Everything. You know what I want.”

“Then I suppose we’ll tell them everything.”

“When we’re ready.”

Any unspoken questions we could let die in the silence—for now. Tangled in each other, the oxytocin sparks prickling between us made me forget where I ended and he began. He lazily stroked my foot with his. I nibbled his neck. Though too quiet to hear, I could feel him purring.

It was perfect and strange. Real and not real. Everything that had once felt natural to us now required reexamination. Was this natural to humans? To vampires? Was this bonding? Was this what had caused our crossing the Point of No Return? Maybe I knew the answer. Maybe I had always known.

I pulled away, bushing.

“Then I guess,” I said, hesitating to remove my hand from his chest, “maybe we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. With…this. Us. You know. Just…in case.”

Edward hummed a sigh. His foot stopped rubbing against mine.

Not knowing what the hell that was supposed to mean, I quickly added, “I just don’t know… I mean, I-I—I love being with you. I want to be with you. But I know you’re not comfortable with this whole…thing we have going on. I’m not either. I don’t want to push you. Or me. That’s all.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth.”

I perked. “Really?”

“Well, I would have put it more eloquently—"

“Dramatically,” I corrected.

“—but yes,” he said in a more jovial tone than I was expecting. “I value you. I am committed to you— to us— in whatever form that takes. I will respect and support your choices, whatever they may be, however they might change. But you are right to be cautious. Our…bond—” he drew out the word as if experimenting with the sound of it “—may prove fatal for us both if we misstep. I am delighted to hear you expressing some modicum of self-preservation.”

He seemed less delighted when I rolled off of him.

After a moment laying next to each other, staring at the ceiling, I placed my hand on his. His thumb brushed the backs of my fingers.

“What will we tell them now?” I said.

Edward shrugged. “Whatever you want. Or nothing at all.”

“Ooh. I like that idea,” I said. Our relationship had been put in the spotlight enough. I was ready for some privacy. “Let them talk.”

“Gladly.” An evil glint accompanied his crooked smile. He kissed the tip of my nose. Then my forehead. I ached for him.

“How long do you think we’ll be able to keep it up?” I joked.

“About ninety seconds,” he said, and flashed a grin. “But I’ll be rooting for us.”

“Me too. Maybe we’ll make it a hundred and eighty seconds.”

“I believe in us.” He rolled over and sat up, facing the window. Edward blinked as if dazed. “If we’re heading out, I suppose I should get cleaned up. Shall I meet you back here in—”

“Don’t go.” At the soft command, his eyes glittered like dewy dandelions. I looked away. “You stayed too long. The sun’s up. The wolves will be starting their training soon.” I grimaced. More to myself, I added, “I should tell Sam I won’t be there.”

“You train with them?”

“Yes.”

“What does that entail?”

I got up to dig around the cardboard box in my closet. “First, we run routes—they do about twenty miles, I do a little over half on a good day. Then they do an extra fifty as wolves. Then they go off and do sparring or train phasing, and I…” I didn’t finish but noticed Edward’s subtle glance at the bow in the corner. “Then brunch. Then weightlifting. Then yoga. Then meditation—”

“Good lord.”

“Then lunch. Then meditation again. Then snacktime and games— boosts morale. Sometimes we have strategy sessions. Or we break off into patrol shifts. Here.” From the box, I flung an old pair of his briefs at him.

He caught it while he studied my face. “Do you patrol?”

“Just the house, really. Once or twice around Forks. I also help create some of the trails out at Old Quil’s.”

His features darkened. With that old concern lacing his tone, he said, “You really shouldn’t—”

“Yeah, well, I do,” I said. Softer, I added, “We all pitch in. That’s how it works.”

A beat of silence passed. I kept digging until I held one of his flannels in one hand and his sweater in the other.

“I’m sorry.”

Resisting the urge to sigh, I said with the faintest hint of humor, “You’re doing a good job making it up to me.”

But Edward wasn’t looking at me. Boxers still in hand, he had trained his gaze on my bow and arrows. This wasn’t the first time I caught him sneaking glances at them. I could practically hear the gears turning in his brain. Questions fomenting. Conclusions festering.

“Bells…”

My heartbeat tripped over itself.

“Hm?”

As soon as he turned to catch me staring, his fear flickered into an even mask.

“Do you mind if I shower here?”

“Not at all.”

I shook the two articles of clothing; he nodded to the sweater. Dropping the flannel back in the box, I nabbed a fresh towel and tossed him it. He slung it over his shoulder. When he rose, it draped over most of him—his lean chest, covered by a thin ribbed undershirt, and his now-stained boxers.

“Thank you kindly, miss.”

Taking the sweater from my hands, he leaned in to kiss me. Fear clawed at my chest; I turned my head and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Impassive, Edward gave me a nod and brushed past me.

I grabbed his hand.

Don't go.

“Thank you,” I said softly. When he turned to look back, I gave his hand a squeeze. I pecked his cheek. Then added, blushing, “I…um…I kinda— I mean, not kinda, I do …”

“Think I’m great in bed?” he guessed jokingly.

I laughed. “Sure, sure.”

Edward’s cocky smile told me he knew the real end of my sentence.

“I’ll save you some hot water,” he promised. “I know you like your showers hotter than the devil.”

I snorted and blushed harder but said nothing. Edward disappeared within the second. From the bathroom, I heard the shower handle creak and water spilling from the showerhead.

Shaking out my nerves, I ambled downstairs for some coffee.

#come nightfall #come nightfall outtakes #asks #twilight renaissance #twilight fanfiction #the twilight saga #bella swan #edward cullen

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lamaenthel · 11 months ago

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Tivaevae | Chapter Eleven: Sashiko

Still struggling to emotionally recover from Master Obi-Wan's deception, Ahsoka discovers in the aftermath that twelve-year-old Boba Fett has been locked up among adults in the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. After convincing Chancellor Palpatine to grant him a pardon, she manages to secure his release on the condition that she serve as his legal guardian. Now, with the help of Master Plo and the Wolfpack, she vows to help him track down what family he has left.

| AO3 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

Fandom: Star Wars Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Boba Fett, Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Kanan Jarrus, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CC-1119 | Appo, Dexter Jettster, FLO | WA-7 (Star Wars), Shaak Ti, ARC Commander Blitz (Star Wars), CT-6922 | Dogma, Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), CC-3636 | Wolffe, Clone Trooper Sinker (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Comet (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody, CT-5597 | Jesse, CT-4860 | Boost, Aurra Sing, Tobias Beckett, Null-11 | Ordo Skirata, Kal Skirata, Original Mandalorian Characters (Star Wars), Original Droid Characters (Star Wars), Original Jedi Character(s) (Star Wars) Total Word Count: 123,000 Chapter Word Count: 8,258 Chapter Summary: Anakin and Ahsoka have a long-awaited talk, Boba bids goodbye to his brothers and Master Plo, and Obi-Wan and Cody escort Ahsoka and Boba to Corellia.

Ahsoka had lathered up three times already but the water still swirled pink around her feet. She squeezed more gel soap into her hands from the dispenser and scrubbed at her montrals and lekku again. The soft, stretchy skin was going dry and scaly from the harsh GAR formula, but the damn water was still pink. She wasn't sure if it was only Jesse's blood or if Aurra had splattered on her too, but it was certainly reluctant to wash away.

She scrubbed underneath her rear lek and tried not to think about the way the side of Aurra's head had exploded like a rotten melon. She'd forgotten how different a firearm worked than a blaster. They were even more uncivilized in somebody's opinion, so the only experience she'd had with one before Kal Skirata's sniper was when she'd gone through the standard projectile-weapon safety course that all Initiates had to take before undergoing their Gathering.

She hadn't fired one, then, but she did remember being amused by what it had done to the sǫnkë squash that her instructor had used as a target. Strings of the vegetable's magenta guts had flown out like confetti and stuck to the rock wall behind it as Master Skoll had grimly explained the third law of motion and what happened when a bullet came to a very sudden stop against organic material. At the time it had been funny, but Ahsoka hadn't expected a humanoid skull to explode so similarly to a squash.

She realized now that that was probably the point of using it. Master Skoll was a very practical man.

She rinsed off one last time, choosing not to look at the water again, then shut the water off. She was as clean as she was going to get, though the barracks shower was a far cry from the hot soaking bath she longed to indulge in at the Temple. She wandered out to the wall of sinks and gently patted her montrals and lekku dry with the scratchy towel. She tried not to wince at how tender they were from all of their activity – the reflexive swelling, the aposematic undulating, and especially the spine-bongo she'd been playing with her rear lek had taken a toll on the normally languid organs – then she massaged the preen glands at the base of her lekku tenderly, trying to spread a little bit of her natural oil back into her skin.

She needed some caara spray or she was going to crack right open, she could feel it. She fought the urge to scratch at her montrals. The skin felt tight there, too tight and too dry and it stung and–

"Ahsoka?" Anakin called from the locker room, and she felt a warm tingle go down her spine from his little reassuring nudge in the Force.

"Almost done!" Ahsoka called back and began to pull on her clothes, still warm from the laundry pod. She took a deep breath and breathed her anxiety out into the Force. She was hyperfixating on how uncomfortable she was so she couldn't linger on the emotional baggage, her brain so exhausted and wired at the same time that it couldn't stop racing. She had to calm down before she resorted to stealing Anakin's t'bac sticks.

It wasn't like he could tell her not to if he was smoking again.

Anakin sat on a bench in the locker room, guarding the door against any wayward troopers that might wander in so she could shower undisturbed. He looked up from the message he was typing on his commlink to smile at her as she turned the corner. "Better?" he asked, closing his message center and patting the bench beside him.

"Much." Ahsoka plopped down beside Anakin and rested her head on his damp shoulder. His hair was still wet from his own shower. "What time is it?"

"Just after 0100." Anakin scratched between her montrals and she started purring. "You doing okay?"

Her purr stuttered and she raised her head. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" she asked after clearing her throat.

"Big night. And what happened with Aurra Sing." He glanced down at her. "I already told you, you made the right call. She's been arrested dozens of times. Clearly the Republic is incapable of keeping her in custody."

"Yeah." She picked at her cuticle. Anakin gently separated her hands before she drew blood. "I don't feel bad for ordering her death, but I feel bad that I don't feel bad," she admitted. "And… she had surrendered. It wasn't the Jedi way."

Anakin took her hand and squeezed it. "When Obi-Wan trained me, we were keepers of the peace. To make sure that you survived this war, I had to train you as a soldier." He smiled sadly, and that wine-dark stain of guilt was back around his aura. "The way you fearlessly called Kal Skirata's bluff, then charged off to save Boba with Jesse's blood still wet on your hands… You're a magnificent Jedi, Ahsoka, but you're also the soldier I trained you to be. Sing may have only planted a few pipe bombs, but the place was packed. You didn't just protect Boba, you prevented a massive amount of civilian casualties. You made a Commander's call."

"I'd already destroyed the detonator," she confessed, feeling conflicted. She'd been a soldier for so long that it almost felt more natural than what her lifelong teachings told her.

"Do you know for sure that she didn't have a backup? Or that she couldn't have rerouted the command to her commlink?" Anakin watched her carefully, his aura muted green with sympathy-pride. "I'm telling you that you chose correctly, Ahsoka."

The endless compassion that her Jedi upbringing had instilled in her was arguing with Anakin's logic. On one hand he was completely right, she had eliminated a dangerous and immediate threat to not just Boba, but all of the innocent people at the fairgrounds. Aurra Sing wasn't just a bounty hunter or even just a monster, she was a terrorist, and a repeated one at that. She'd tried to turn Boba into one too. She needed to be put down, but Ahsoka would be lying if Aurra's history of terrorism was anywhere near the forefront of her mind when she'd raised her fist and signaled for Skirata's sniper to fire. It had been about protecting Boba from her, forever.

Ni ven'kyramu ad kebbur.

"It was the right call," she agreed quietly. "Even if it wasn't… wasn't what I was thinking about at the time."

"And that's exactly what I'm going to tell the Council in the morning." Anakin smiled down at her. "The first part, anyway. Somehow I have to make time to testify about it first thing, even though we're deploying at 1100."

"We're deploying?" Ahsoka squawked in alarm. "Kriff. I guess Boba can stay in my quarters on The Resolute, but I didn't even get a chance to tell Rex about my cuirass yet so it's still–"

"Ahsoka." Anakin interrupted her with a very pointed look. "You are not bringing Boba into an active warzone."

Ahsoka's shoulders sagged. She didn't even know how Master Plo's dinner with the headmaster had gone yet, what if he had said Boba could shove off? She'd seen advertisements for luxurious boarding houses for pets on the holonet, did they have something like that for children? Would Boba even stay in one of those, or would he run away? What if–

"Commander." Anakin snapped his fingers to get her attention. "You're not going with us. You can't be deployed until you find a place for Boba to stay."

"Oh," Ahsoka said, dismayed. "Can… is he even allowed to stay at the Temple?"

"Not long term. But you're going to Corellia to find Kaisa Skirata, so hopefully it won't be necessary."

"I don't know if I want to leave Boba with the woman who abandoned him," Ahsoka said, biting her lip. "I need to meet her first and get an idea of who she is, and see if I can even trust her with him."

"Well, she is his mother." He rolled his eyes at her giggle. "You can't blame me for thinking you meant she was his biological mother without context, brat."

She giggled again. "It was still funny."

Anakin shook his head and dug a little leather pouch from his pocket, flipping it over in his hands. "I got you a present," he finally said, then handed it to her.

It made of soft, black leather that smelled strongly of chandanam oil, and it had a little marg sabl flower embossed on the front of it. The top had a drawstring closure and was on a cord so it could be worn around the neck or tied to a belt. Something rattled around inside of it. "This is pretty," she said, examining it. It felt like mosasaur leather, which was surprising. He had to have gone to a Togrutan artisan to get it. She opened the top curiously and let the contents spill into her hand.

Her soul fell out of her body and straight down to the planet's core at what she saw.

"It's Aurra's." Anakin's hands fidgeted in his lap in stark contrast to the way she'd frozen. "I thought you might want to do that ceremony thing with Boba." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his aura suddenly vibrating with pale orange anxiety-indecision-unease.

She stared at the long, bloody tooth in her hand. It had been rinsed off but was far from clean, and had a gold filling in it. "How…" she asked, barely able to wrap her mind around it.

"Well, it was a pretty long fall, and the coroner didn't get there right away." Anakin shrugged and looked at his knees.

Ahsoka carefully put the tooth back into the bag and pulled the drawstring shut. "You were furious when I took Krell's teeth," she said after her brain rebooted and she remembered how to speak out loud. "You glued them back into his head because you said I had mutilated his corpse. Why would you–"

"I was never angry about you taking his teeth, Ahsoka. Hell, I almost told you to go get a shotgun so we could blow his face off and cover it up that way, but they'd already submitted the autopsy report." His lip twitched. "It was because you took so many." Anakin's aura went soft gold with humor. "Aurra's tooth was sort of an… impulsive grab," he continued quietly. "The pouch is the real gift, even if the purpose is the same. I got it for you to keep Krell's tooth in."

Ahsoka slowly met her Master's eyes.

"You thought I didn't see you snag that molar?" he asked wryly.

Ahsoka felt her stripes go black. "No," she admitted.

Anakin smirked. "I know everything, Snips."

She almost snorted. If that were true, then Rex would have been transferred to another battalion by now before she could do something stupid, like obey her stupid heart and tell him how she felt. "Well, you didn't know that I lost it on Geonosis," she said glumly. "I think it fell out of my belt when Boba used it as a sling for my arm. It must be still down there, but if it's the will of the Force that it rests there, then so be it."

"Really?" Anakin looked very surprised. "You could just… give it up like that?"

Ahsoka shrugged. "It's a shame, considering how long I've been carrying it, but it was never for me. It was for Dogma, for whenever he returns to us."

Anakin's face softened and his aura darkened a redder shade of violet with grief. She knew he didn't believe that Dogma would ever return, but she refused to give up hope. "You have a very, very big heart, Ahsoka." Anakin took her hand. His flesh one shook a little. "And I'm so sorry. You have every right to hate me–"

"Master, no!" Ahsoka immediately protested. "You made a mis–"

"You need to let me say this, because it's all I can think about and I'm going to explode if I don't get it out," Anakin interrupted her.

She shrank. "Okay."

"I messed up. I completely betrayed your trust and I left you swinging in the wind when you needed me the most, and then I broke your kriffing arm because you wouldn't abandon me to rot in my own self-pity. It doesn't matter if I meant to or not. I still did it." He looked away, his aura deep green with disgust-regret-guilt at his own actions. "You know… you know how I grew up," he continued quietly. "That was the kind of thing Watto would do, and later say he didn't mean to go that far when my mom was splinting my fingers or begging him to let me see a medical droid. And I did it to you." His aura was one thing, but it was the self-loathing in his voice that killed her.

She threw her arms around his neck so he couldn't see the tears welling up in her eyes, but she could do nothing about the sound of her heart breaking clean in half. "You're forgiven, Master," she said softly, breathing in the warm, clean smell of his neck. "But I haven't forgotten about that Gungan shaak roast. You're still taking me to Naboo."

Anakin laughed quietly and squeezed her in a wampa hug that pushed the air out of her lungs. "I'll make sure Jar-Jar clears his schedule. But not until I get back from Goran, and you from Corellia." He squeezed her one more time and then let her go. "I promise, Ahsoka, it will never happen again."

"I trust you, Master." Ahsoka watched his aura lighten like a sunrise at hearing her say it out loud. "As for Corellia, I have no idea what to expect there, and I hate that."

'"Skirata said she really hates Jedi, so you'll need to be on guard. Expect the standard Mando gear– flamethrower, whipcord, all of that."

"Well, Master Plo will hopefully have some ideas on how to deal with–"

"Master Plo is providing air support on Goran." Anakin bit his lip and looked down, going taupe with apprehension. "But you are not going to Corellia without an escort."

"Hm." Ahsoka paused and tried to think who was at the Temple and could go with her. Maybe Master Billaba? She was pretty busy with her own Padawan, though, maybe Master Beq could get away from the crèche long enough to…

Ahsoka looked at Anakin with a sudden feeling of dawning horror, realizing he'd already chosen an escort for her. "Nooo," she said, whining like a youngling.

"Yep."

"No, not Obi-Wan!" She almost kicked her feet.

"Yes, Obi-Wan," Anakin smiled. "This will be good, Snips. You'll have a chance to talk it out."

"Is that who you were messaging?" she asked him crossly.

"Maybe."

She did kick her feet at that. "Well, I don't wanna," she complained. Her rear lek swished irritably across her shoulders.

"Well, too bad."

Ahsoka crossed her arms and glared at the floor.

"Don't be like that. It's time to release your anger at him and move on." Anakin's aura faded to a light green with curiosity-apprehension. "How can you forgive me so easily and not him?" he asked softly.

She stared at the floor and counted the tiles instead of answering. "Master Plo said it's like a wound I'm refusing to let close up," she finally said. "But I feel like every time I do, something happens to rip the scab off. We meditated together on the way home, and he helped me release a great deal of my pain about it, but then we ended up in that alley again and…" She bit her lip. "I smelled his blood and everything came rushing back. It feels like it just happened all over again."

Anakin nodded and thought for a moment. "You need to yell at him," he said decisively.

Ahsoka gaped at her Master. "I can't yell at him," she said after a few moments of staring.

Anakin shrugged. "Always helps me."

"He's a Jedi Master, he's on the Council, I can't just yell at him–"

"Ahsoka, he used to change your diapers." Anakin rolled his eyes. "You can yell at him. I promise, he'd actually prefer it if you did. He thinks you hate him."

"First of all, I was potty trained by the time I came to the Temple," Ahsoka said defensively, and her Master started snickering. "And second, second–" she said loudly over Anakin's laughter, " –the problem is I don't hate him. If I hated him, I wouldn't care."

Anakin wrapped an arm around her shoulders and shook her. "Snips, listen. Boba just saw his molester's brains get blown all over a roller coaster, and tomorrow you're taking him to go meet the mother who abandoned him. You need to pull it together for him, and if that means yelling at Obi-Wan and getting it out of your system once and for all, then that's what you are going to do."

His words reached inside her chest and squeezed the blood from her heart like a hand around a jogan fruit. He was right, again. She was being selfish. Boba needed her support now more than ever, and to be there for him properly she needed a clear head. "Fine, I'll yell at him," she grumbled. "And then when he grounds me to the Agricorps for ten years, you can explain to him why I was so insubordinate."

"Good girl." Anakin squeezed her and gave her a cheery peck on the forehead, his aura a deep, rich orange with pride-affection-humor. "Let's get going."

"Okay." Her heart sank a little, knowing she wouldn't see him again until they were both back. "Thanks for the talk, Master. I know you're eager to get out of here and go to… well, you know." Ahsoka stood up and fidgeted with her new pouch.

Anakin goldened with amusement and he stood with her. "I'm not going anywhere, Snips."

Ahsoka blinked at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah. I haven't seen you in almost two weeks," Anakin said easily, pulling her back under one arm. "Come on. Let's go see if that pillow fort is done yet."

She tried and failed to hide her smile. Anakin choosing to spend time with her over Padmé? She almost peeked out of the hallway window to see if the sky had fallen.

"It sounds like they're having a good time," Anakin said with an eyebrow up and an aura like burnished gold. She recognized the Toydarian drumbeats vibrating through the rec room walls from Anakin's podracing hologame and there were at least a half-dozen loud, raised voices that were either really excited, or really angry.

That was fairly par for the course for that specific podracing game. Anakin had programmed in features capable of fracturing even the deepest of friendships.

"I'm glad," Ahsoka said. "He needs the distraction." She keyed the door open and felt the wave of bright yellow-orange excitement from the boys practically blow her lekku back like a strong wind. The pillow fort had been rebuilt and was even more elaborate than before. They'd propped up the sheets high enough to encapsulate the couch, where Jesse and Tup had been left elevated in places of honor given their injuries. Fives, Boba, and Kix were all cross-legged in the front of the tent, hollering over one another and debating the race, while Rex and Cody laid back on their elbows and were eating from a massive bag of caramel bang-corn, their auras bright gold with humor-amusement at the ruckus.

"I would have won if you hadn't thrown that hydrospanner, you little–"

"Don't blame me!"

"Oh I'm blaming you, you didn't have to–"

"Ahsoka!" Boba tossed his controller down and darted across the room, nearly knocking the wind out of her as he hit her like a meteor. His aura resonated with blue relief as his arms snagged around her waist and squeezed her tight.

"You okay?" she asked him softly, wincing at his two purple eyes. His nose was fine but he still looked like he'd gone three rounds with a rancor, and his aura was practically vibrating around him. He was overtired, but she sensed he didn't want to go to sleep and face his dreams quite yet.

"Obviously," he scoffed. "You look like shit."

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks. Having fun?"

He shrugged. "Fives is being a bitch because I beat him four times in a row."

"He threw a hydrospanner at my podracer five meters before the finish line!" Fives whined.

Behind her, Anakin chuckled. "I distinctly remember you doing that to Echo and him not speaking to you for a full week after."

Fives rubbed the back of his head and pouted. Ahsoka made eye contact with Rex over Boba's head; his aura had gone a brilliant copper with affection-happiness and his smile was soft enough to make her pulse quicken.

Boba had his head on her chest; he glanced behind him at Rex, then flared bright orange with smugness-validation. He glanced up at her with the sneakiest, shittiest little smirk she'd seen on him yet.

"Ne'johaa," Ahsoka mumbled into his ear, making him cackle and flare gold, then crossed the room and gently plopped down between Tup and Jesse. She gave Tup a sympathetic kiss on the cheek next to the bacta patch plastered over his stitches first, then stretched out between Jesse and the sofa back and hugged him tightly, careful of the IV still sticking out of his arm. "Thank you," she said into his thick neck, too aware of the fact that she knew what it looked like on the inside. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend the smell of his blood didn't still linger in her nose. She'd nearly lost Jesse before; breaking his neck on Carmexa, splitting up on Xior-Cal to blow the spaceport, the nightmare that was Umbara, but this time was the closest call. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." She punctuated every sentence with a rub of her lek against his cheek.

"Anytime, Commander," Jesse said drowsily, his aura deepening with copper and blue. He scratched between her montrals and made her purr. Her arm snaked over Jesse's chest and pulled him closer.

"That's a good time." Anakin stood with his arms crossed, looking at the scoreboard on the hologame. He gave Boba a friendly smile. "You play a lot of racing games?"

Boba shrugged and looked at his feet, his aura pale yellow with anxiety-embarrassment. "I guess," he mumbled. "I like this one though. It's funner than most."

Skywalker's smile widened. "Thank you." Boba raised a confused eyebrow at him and he laughed. "I made it. It was my final project for my advanced programming module."

"You made the game?' Boba asked, bright blue with surprise.

"Yeah." He smirked down at Boba. "Wanna race?"

"Please put him back in his place, General, he's been kicking my shebs for the last hour," Fives whined.

"We should go to sleep," Ahsoka said, a wave of exhaustion suddenly hitting her like a speederbus. She was warm, clean, had a belly full of meat, and was surrounded by clan. She was safe.

"One game, then we'll tuck in. What do you say?" Anakin tilted his head at Boba.

"You're on," Boba grinned, going bright orange with excitement-competition.

"No offense, Commander, but I've got a bruise the size of you on the side you're laying on." Jesse kissed her on the forehead then rolled her over him and off of the sofa before she could react, letting her fall directly into Rex's lap with a surprised squeak. "Special delivery, Captain."

"Oh." Ahsoka blinked up at Rex, disoriented from the new and unexpected position. "Hi."

"Evening, Commander," Rex said stoically, then broke into a grin.

She smiled back like her heart wasn't broken. She couldn't help but think about what had been done to him. He deserved to know that he had parents who loved him, that he had not just one but two little brothers – or big brothers, technically – who had meant the world to him, but if there was any chance of getting through whatever the Kaminoans had done to his mind to make him so resistant to even thinking about the truth, then it had been stolen and sent to Corellia in the datafiles of Boba's armor. Those holopics were all they had outside of their word to convince him. They'd even taken the kriffing tooka doll. It would have to wait until she got back from Corellia. Whether or not Boba came back with her, she'd at least have the holos to show–

Her eyes snapped onto a small orange stone on a string around his neck that smelled like the Togruta who had left the scent mark on him. A small growl escaped from her before she could stop it.

Rex's eyebrows went up and his aura turned yellow with caution-unease. "What?" he asked her warily.

"What is that?" She flicked the stone.

Rex's aura went almost neon yellow with embarrassment. "It's uh, a good luck charm?"

"Helps enhance his fertility, too," Anakin quipped with a grin and an aura bright gold with humor.

Ahsoka blinked a few times and resisted the urge to rip it off his neck.

"Do you want it for your rock bowl?" Rex asked hesitantly, untying the string and handing it to her.

"Thanks," she said stoically. She tucked the stone into the pocket of her leggings and resolved to throw it off the nearest rooftop at the first opportunity.

Cody moved the giant bag of bang-corn so she could properly nestle between them. She ended up with her head on Rex's chest and her legs strewn across Cody's lap, watching the hologame through half closed eyes. "Take it easy on him, Master," she murmured sleepily.

Anakin sat down on the floor next to Kix and relieved him of his controller. "Absolutely not," he said with a wink at Boba. "Did you do the Canto Bight track yet?"

"No." Boba plopped down on the floor next to him.

"Perfect." Anakin's smirk only grew as he quickly thumbed through the maps. "This one is fun. You have to avoid running into the fathiers."

"What happens if you do?"

"You explode." Skywalker wiggled his eyebrows and grinned. "Ready?"

"Just one game," Ahsoka reminded them. Her eyes were already fighting to stay open, Rex's chest far too comfortable and familar of a pillow for her to stay awake on.

"Yep." Anakin winked at her over his shoulder.

She lost her battle with sleep before they'd finished their first lap.

Boba blearily blinked his eyes open at the sound of something falling to the floor and the whispered exclamation of kriff. He focused enough to make out Skywalker's lumbering silhouette in the door of the tent, making a face at his fallen lightsaber and standing with only one boot on.

Sorry, he mouthed apologetically to Boba, then pulled on the other boot, picked up his lightsaber, gave a little wave, and tiptoed out of the room. The chrono above the doorway was barely visible, but it looked like it was right after 0500.

"Skyguy," Ahsoka mumbled into Boba's forehead. She snuggled her face closer to his in favor of waking up, her lek warm and dry against his cheek. Tiarek lay at his back, an arm thrown across them both. Boba didn't actually remember falling asleep; his mind had been spinning and anxious, but Ahsoka's ba'jurur had been more than happy to play hologames with him until everyone else was asleep and he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. He vaguely remembered falling asleep sitting up during the Bespin level, then nothing. He had been too exhausted to even dream.

He laid very still so he didn't wake either Tiarek or Ahsoka. He wanted to just listen to their breathing for a minute and pretend that everything wasn't about to change. His mother was alive, and she had his armor. He didn't understand how it was possible. Had the Geonosian shaman somehow known with his Force powers, or was it just a coincidence that he'd told him that his mother and Cassus were alive?

He didn't want to go to Corellia. He didn't want to see her. His mother had left him behind, why did Ahsoka think that she wanted him anymore? She'd clearly made her choice, been willing to fucking die for it. She hadn't taken him or Tiarek with her, she'd taken her biological child. Jango's vat scum obviously didn't mean the same to her.

He didn't want to ditch Ahsoka but he definitely couldn't live with the fucking monks, and he wasn't stupid enough to think that he could tag along on a warship. Maybe he could find a job? Something that would be safe and wouldn't take him off world, since that would definitely give the overgrown tooka a panic attack. He could fix things, he was a good slicer, and while he had a feeling that she'd have a lot to say about him using his blaster to make money, once he was thirteen and had gone through his verd'goten she wasn't allowed to tell him no.

'Course she probably would anyway, since she wasn't Mandalorian and had a decent-sized stick up her ass; even if she did have more mando'kar than Kal and all of his sons combined, she was still a Jedi.

"Rise and shine, boys." Cody sat up and yawned. "You too, Commander."

Ahsoka and Boba made protesting grunts and snuggled closer. Tiarek's arm tightened around both of them.

"Oi." Cody took Tiarek by the shoulder and shook him. His brother's arm popped up and whacked Cody right in the face. "Chakaar!" Cody protested as Tiarek wrapped his arm back around them and snickered.

"We've got a few minutes," Tiarek rumbled, his voice an octave lower from sleep.

"Mm." Cody snaked an arm around Tiarek's neck and wrapped his legs around his waist, putting him into a headlock from behind. "Wake up, vod'ika," he said sweetly over Tiarek's surprised choking noises.

Ahsoka wrapped her arms protectively around Boba and rolled them away from the chaos. "Di'kute," she mumbled, then yelped as Tiarek accidentally kicked her in the shebs. "Will you two knock it off–"

"What's happening?" Tup asked sleepily from the sofa above them; his hair was still in its usual bun, but now hung on the left side of his head like a saggy ear.

"Stay out of it until I check your stitches," Kix grumbled, still face-down on the blanketed floor.

"Commander," Tiarek wheezed, and Boba wasn't sure if he was asking Ahsoka for help or begging Cody to stop, but regardless his ori'vod rolled her eyes and slunk over Boba like a big cat to join the spontaneous wrestling match.

Boba crawled up to the sofa and took refuge with Jesse, who snickered and gave him a hand up. "Who usually wins these?" Boba asked, wincing as Ahsoka shoved her bony knee into Cody's spine.

"It's pretty even odds, actually." Jesse shrugged. "They're obviously bigger, but she's bendier and has the Force."

"Ke'day'duumi, chakaar!"

"Make me, vod'ika–"

"Gar dushne, Cody, you overgrown shabla thimiar–"

"L…language…"

"What in the world is going on here?" Plo sighed from the doorway. He held a large, brown paper bag with handles and stood with the posture of a disappointed father.

Cody blanched and immediately let Tiarek go. "Atten-tion!" he barked, causing the room to explode into motion as the half-asleep troopers all leapt to their feet on pure reflex. Boba was accidentally thrown off the couch by Jesse as he popped to his feet and saluted.

"Hi, Master," Ahsoka said sheepishly, getting to her feet last. She held out a hand to help up Boba, who accepted it with a wince. Jesse had tossed him right onto a hologame controller.

Plo chuckled. "At ease, gentlemen. And koh-to-yah, little 'Soka." He accepted the kiss she planted on his cheek. "I am very relieved to see all of you in one piece." He nodded at Boba. "Especially you, young man. By all accounts, you handled yourself bravely last night."

Boba blushed and looked down. He'd ended up in Ahsoka's lap crying like a fucking baby again, but maybe Plo didn't know that.

"Why is it that the moment I leave you alone, you get into trouble?" Plo teased Ahsoka.

She shrugged. "Trouble seems to find us, Master."

Plo shook his head. "I regret that I cannot stay longer, I must hurry to the Council chambers and then to The Triumphant. But I wanted to let you know, Ahsoka, that if things do not work out with Lady Skirata then contact Yeen Lah at the Tabori Academy in the Mah-Lo-Dahn district. Tuition has been taken care of."

Boba furrowed his brows and let Jesse reach behind him to retrieve a wayward plastoid gauntlet. "What are you talking about?"

Plo gently maneuvered his way through the dressing troopers and sat beside Boba on the sofa. "I have an old friend who is the headmaster of a boarding school here on Coruscant," he told him gently. "He has agreed to allow you to enroll on a probationary basis. As long as you behave yourself, you may attend on a scholarship."

Boba stared at Plo. "You're not worried I'll run away?" he asked bluntly.

Plo shrugged. "I would hope not. It would reflect quite poorly on Ahsoka and myself."

Boba almost asked why he should care on reflex, but bit his lip and nodded instead. It was time to grow up and stop slapping away help when it was offered genuinely. Not everyone was out to get him.

Most people, yes. But not everyone.

"I was very unhappy to learn of what had transpired regarding your armor, but I still wanted you to have these." Plo handed him the bag.

On top was a brand-new leather holster for a WESTAR. Boba picked it up, grinning, and examined it. It was buttery soft and a few shades darker than the ones his father used to have. "Wizard," he murmured.

"Is that bantha leather?" Fives asked, slipping on his pauldrons. Boba handed it to him to see, and he let out a low whistle.

"Indeed." Plo nodded. Next, Boba pulled out the package wrapped in plain brown paper that had been underneath the holster; inside was a dove-gray flight suit meant to be worn underneath his beskar plates.

"Cin vhetin," Plo said with a good-natured rumble. "A fresh start, yes?"

Boba nodded, staring speechlessly at the flight suit. He could feel the roughness of the armor weave embedded into the top layer of canvas, and it had several snaps on the arms and legs that would allow the length to be adjusted. Clearly, it was a garment meant to grow with him. "Why?" he finally asked Plo softly.

Plo's weird face squinched up in a smile. "We all deserve a second chance," he said, then patted him on the shoulder and stood. "Unfortunately, I must hurry, as I believe I'm already late for the Council meeting." He bowed at Boba. "I hope this is not the last time we meet, Boba Fett, but if it is, then let me tell you what a privilege it has been to know you."

"Koh-to-yah," Boba mumbled, his cheeks burning at all of the attention.

Plo's face squinched up even further. "Koh-to-yah," he bowed one more time, excusing himself.

"Hey," Ahsoka said softly after the door slid shut, placing a hand on his knee. "No matter what happens with Kaisa, we're getting your armor back. I'll bite her if I have to."

Boba nodded and tried to smile. "Are Togs really venomous?" he asked in a small voice.

Ahsoka burst into surprised laughter. "Some of us, yes. It's a recessive trait, almost exclusive to Togrutas from the southern continent. I had my glands removed when I was five."

"Really?" Fives asked, crestfallen. "Why?"

"I bit another Initiate," she said with a grin. "Our venom doesn't do anything but cause pain, but I was still deemed too big of a bite risk for them to remain."

"Lame." Fives helped haul Tup and Kix up to their feet. "Let's grab a transport before the lines start, 'lek? See you later, Commander." He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek punctuated with a snozzberry. "And as for you ad'ika," he began, an evil twinkle in his eye.

"Don't fucking kiss me," Boba warned, leaning away.

"I was going to say don't let your dinii'la buir hurt my Commander," Fives snickered.

"I won't," Boba promised. "I don't even know that she's my buir anymore. She'll have to prove it."

"Don't go easy on her. Make her work for it." Fives rubbed his scalp roughly, then gave him a little salute and followed Kix and Tup out the door.

"You're not actually dropping in this condition, are you?" Ahsoka asked Jesse, frowning.

He made a face. "I have no doubt Kix will chain me to a cot in the medbay. You know what a ba'buir he is." He leaned over and gave Ahsoka a hug, then winked at Boba. "See you around, squirt."

"See you." Boba watched him go with an unexpected longing heavy in his chest. His eyes turned on Cody, who was lazily lounging in halvsies. "You're not going?" he asked.

"Nope." Cody smirked at him. "I'm your escort to Corellia."

"Oh good, I'll have a buffer," Ahsoka sighed, then dramatically leaned against Tiarek. "Don't suppose I can commandeer you?" she asked teasingly, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around her. "Some of us have to work for a living."

Boba rolled his eyes so hard that they nearly fell out of his head. We're not like that, she's my Commanding officer; Boba almost laughed out loud. Ahsoka clearly knew what was happening – the way her heartbeat had jumped like a blaster bolt had gone by her big head last night the second he smiled at her proved that– but she was a Jedi. She was ignoring it until it became background noise, like the way Dad's knee would ache in the rain that never stopped on Kamino. Tiarek, on the other hand, was just a fucking idiot and didn't realize he was in love with her. He probably thought it was totally normal to look at his little sister like she had invented sunshine.

Boba glanced over at Cody, who looked as exasperated as Boba felt. He gave Boba a weary nod of acknowledgement and crammed a handful of caramel bang-corn in his mouth.

"I guess we do at some point. Pretty convenient that we all had shore leave at the same time, though." Ahsoka scrunched her nose and giggled. "The 501st, 212th and 104th? Wild odds."

"Will of the Force," Tiarek deadpanned, then looked over at Boba. He frowned. "What?"

Oblivious says fucking what. Boba readjusted his face so he wasn't looking at his brother like he was the stupidest motherfucker in the galaxy and smiled. "Nothing."

Tiarek let go of his Commanding Officer and yanked him into a hard hug. "You be careful and watch her back, 'lek?" he said sternly.

"What I've been doing, vod," Boba said, his voice muffled by plastoid. He knew they had to let go at some point, but he was willing to wait for Tiarek to do it first.

Given Corellia's proximity to Coruscant, it had been deemed prudent for Obi-Wan and Cody to escort Ahsoka and Boba to the planet on a commercial transport rather than try to beg a ship off of a benefactor. The transport was surprisingly empty, with only a Twi'lek family with a set of very hyperactive little girls running up and down the aisles screaming play songs in Ryl, and a trio of very strongly-scented Chagrians in the aisle nearest the door. All in all, he'd certainly been forced to travel under worse conditions.

He had once had to stow away with Qui-Gon and Satine on a nerf transport. Sometimes he could still smell it in his dreams.

Ahsoka wasn't quite as frosty with him, but she was still quite stiff. She was making an active effort to act normal with him, Obi-Wan could see, but it was almost worse than the cold shoulder. He didn't like that she had to try.

Boba, in contrast to how they'd left Coruscant the first time, was now glued to her side. Every few minutes he'd throw Obi-Wan an unnerving glare before going back to watching something on the datapad he had propped on top of a rancor plush. It appeared that the two had become quite close during their short journey together.

He shouldn't have been that surprised. She had done a great deal for him, and clones seemed to be drawn to Ahsoka, regardless of age.

He finished up the last stitch in the sleeve of her robe, tied off a square knot, and snipped the thread. "Good as new," he said, smiling as he handed them to her.

"Thank you very much, Master." Ahsoka tucked them into her satchel and gave him a small nod and smile, then returned to her homework.

Obi-Wan met Cody's eyes and silently pled for his help. Cody's cheek twitched and he cleared his throat. "What're you working on?" he asked Ahsoka.

Her eyes flicked up. "Trigonometry Three." She looked back down.

Cody looked at him and raised his eyebrows.

"You're on the third module already?" Obi-Wan asked, seizing his opening gratefully. "I was under the impression you were still on the second."

"Started it a month ago." Ahsoka gave him a flat smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, like he was a stranger she was about to ask to squeeze behind in a crowded shopping aisle.

Boba glanced between them, working his jaw. "Gar'copaani ni rejorhaa'i ke'shab?" he asked her.

Ahsoka's eyes went wide. "Boba, no."

"Tion'meg? Ne'baati. Kaysh ne'vegyc chaabi gar. Gett'se'kovid ni ne'chaabi." The boy was looking at him like he was deciding whether or not to bite him.

"Boba, kaysh johaar'i Mando'a," Ahsoka sighed.

Boba met Obi-Wan's eyes fearlessly and dared him to say something.

"My Huttese is quite passable if you'd prefer to swear at me in that," Obi-Wan couldn't help but quip.

"Or I could just tell you to leave her the fuck alone in Basic," Boba snapped.

"Okay." Ahsoka yanked the datapad out of Boba's lap and put it and her homework on the empty seat opposite of them. "Let's go get a snack, 'lek? I know I saw a vending droid."

"Do you need money?" Obi-Wan dug in his pocket and offered her his credit chit.

"No, I–"

"I insist."

Ahsoka took it reluctantly. "Would you like anything?" she asked.

"I'm fine, thank you. Get whatever you'd like."

"I wouldn't say no to a biscuit," Cody added, moving his feet out of the way as she shuffled across the seats. Boba kept direct eye contact with Obi-Wan as she dragged him down the aisle.

"Well, this is going well." Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"I agree."

Obi-Wan turned his head to look at Cody. "I was being sarcastic, Commander."

"She let him curse you out to his heart's content before, didn't she?" Cody asked, smirking. "I'd say that was an improvement."

"True," Obi-Wan said. "But still." He watched Boba scroll through the menu, all the way to the bottom where the most expensive snacks were usually listed, then repeatedly press a button until Ahsoka smacked his hand away.

"Just give her a bit more time, Sir. She…" Cody made sure the duo was still far enough away to not overhear them. "That Null she chased down led her straight to the alley. I think it's all a bit fresh for her again."

"Which alley?" Obi-Wan asked, confused.

He got the sense that Cody was actively refraining from rolling his eyes. "The alley, Sir."

"The–" Obi-Wan trailed off, crestfallen. The alley in which he'd faked his death. "Oh."

"Yep."

Obi-Wan crossed his legs and frowned. "Why would he lead her there?"

"His exact words were 'I thought I could use the advantage.' "

"Why would that give him an advantage?"

Cody blinked at him. "Sir."

Obi-Wan enjoyed the expression Cody was making when it was directed at clueless shinies, but certainly didn't appreciate it being turned on him. "What?" he asked, trying not to sound offended.

"He did it so she'd be distracted, Sir," Cody patiently explained.

Obi-Wan busied himself with an invisible thread on the end of his sleeve so he didn't have to look at Cody's exasperated face. "Did you ever find out what happened to her arm?" he asked.

"I–" Cody started, but made a quick motion of head at the aisle. "They're coming back."

Ahsoka shuffled back into her seat with an armful of snacks, closely followed by Boba. He had an armful of a luxury brand of Pantoran chocolate treats and he kicked Obi-Wan in the shin as he scooted carelessly by.

Ahsoka tossed a sleeve of chocolate biscuits to Cody, a packet of shortbread cookies to Obi-Wan, then a can of tea to both of them before opening her pouch of jerky. "Thank you, Master." She handed him his chit. "I'll repay you for Boba's hyunakadi. He misunderstood the instructions on the droid."

"No I didn't," Boba said, shoving a chocolate-coated cookie into his mouth. "If you ask me nice I'll let you smell my breath when I'm done."

"Boba!" Ahsoka snapped. "Gev, vod'ika, tayli'bac? Chak'miit'la ne'gaat'tayli. Ni ru'tioni cuy'ehn. Ni nari dar'tioni'an."

Boba frowned and chewed his chocolate with a sour look on his face.

"How much longer to Corellia?" Ahsoka asked, biting the insides of her cheeks and hugging herself tightly. Her knee jiggled at hyperspeed. She looked like she wanted to jump out of the airlock.

"Two hours," Obi-Wan answered.

"Great." She stared out the window into hyperspace.

Obi-Wan watched her silently for a moment. She was stressed, clearly, it didn't take the Force to sense that. Her lekku lay limp and lifeless down her chest and her eyes were tight at the corners. She had forgone her Shilian sash and had chosen a set of dark-brown robes instead of the white and red she usually favored; Obi-Wan knew for a fact that the set he had just repaired weren't her only ones, so it had to be a conscious choice. There was a little black pouch on her belt that he'd never seen before. Despite snapping at the boy only a few moments earlier, she snuck her hand over to Boba's least-chocolatey one and laced their fingers together tightly.

"Do you remember the crèchetale about the purrgil and the oswaft?" Obi-Wan asked her softly.

Boba's expression shifted from hostile to curious for the first time in his presence.

Ahsoka glanced at Obi-Wan without moving her head, and her lip twitched just a tiniest bit at the corner. "I believe that's one of Huyang's favorites," she said quietly.

Cody put his boots up on the empty seat across from him. "How's it go?" he asked.

Obi-Wan looked back at Ahsoka. "Care to do the honors?"

She shook her head. "I'm not sure I remember it right. Maybe you should."

Obi-Wan recognized an olive branch when he saw one. He tried not to smile too wide, then cleared his throat. "A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…"

Notes:

MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS Ni ven'kyramu ad kebbur: I will kill anyone who tries Ne'johaa: shush Mando'kar: a zest for life, big metaphorical balls Ba'jurur*: teacher Chakaar: general insult, used like asshole Ke'day'duumi: Let go! Ori/vod/ika: big/sibling/little Gar dushne: you're the worst Ad'ika: Little child, kiddo Dinii'la buir: Crazy mom Gar'copaani ni rejorhaa'i ke'shab?: Want me to tell him fuck off? Ne'baati. Kaysh ne'vegyc chaabi gar. Gett'se'kovid ni ne'chaabi.: I don't care. He shouldn't scare you. Scrotum head doesn't scare me. Boba, kaysh johaar'i Mando'a: Boba, he speaks Mando'a. Gev, vod'ika, tayli'bac? Chak'miit'la* ne'gaat'tayli. Ni ru'tioni cuy'ehn. Ni nari dar'tioni'an: Stop, little brother, understand? Assholery doesn't help. I asked three times. I am no longer asking. OTHER NOTES Sǫnkë squash: A medium sized, hard-skinned squash with a light blue background, dark blue stripes, light pink freckles, and magenta flesh. Native to Felucia and very bitter, but sweetens with fermentation. Often grown as feed for domesticated tamtam birds Mosasaur: large marine reptile native to the equator of Shili, invasive on the Aagani coast of the northern continent Caara: An evergreen tree with needled leaves, native to Shili's southern continent but widely cultivated off world, visually similar to a pine but with a brighter smell like ragweed. Produces between 10-20, 100-lb stonefruits that take a full summer to mature. Caara butter and oil is a popular skincare export from Shili Shunka: Small canid native to Shili (the dogs from Ahsoka's village in TOTJ) Hyunakadi: crispy Pantoran cookie, basically yakgwa but dipped in chocolate Oswaft: Legends creature, similar to a purrgil but resembling a manta ray instead of a whale. Native to the ThonBaka nebula Preemptively for nitpickers: I know that The Triumphant was destroyed at Abregado, Plo's Venator is The Triumphant II Electric Boogaloo Back on my random Togruta anatomy bullshit again ✌️

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork, @soliloquy-of-nemo Dividers: @saradika-graphics

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