#cad bane's and hers relationship
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reading my unfinished Aurra fic like
#She isn’t a Jedi#not anymore#perhaps never was#but she can’t rid herself of their mark.#He sneers but his words are honest. They always are when he’s talking to her#more than a decade of knowing each other has that effect#the line about how much of an abomination she is#not being able to get rid of her kyber crystal no matter how hard she tried#cad bane's and hers relationship#.#oh aurra i love you so fucking much
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Additional Theories for Season 3
Hunter
Hunter will use a lightsaber
Omega and Hunter REAL HUG
Hunter finally discovers his purpose and resolves his arc
Hunter finally loses it and goes Joel Miller on everyone’s ass
Hunter will make riskier decisions since Omega isn’t around. He won’t be playing it safe. He might even make some morally questionable choices.
Hunter will have a hard time trusting Crosshair when he comes back to them.
Cad Bane and Hunter rematch (neither will lose/it will be a draw)
Fennec and Hunter banter
He will be the only main character to die (the more and more I hear about season 3 and the more I think about it, him being the only death besides Tech makes a lot of sense. They’ve been leading up to it a really long time)
He will tell Omega he loves her
He will hand off responsibility for Omega to Crosshair, showing that he finally trusts him again. Mutual forgiveness between them.
Omega will take his bandana/helmet
Tech
Tech will return in a way we don’t expect (if he returns at all)
Tech is not the mystery soldier
Tech’s goggles will have a tracker in them (put there by Hemlock. It will be how he finds Pabu)
The team will visibly struggle without him there
Lots of callbacks to Tech
Phee will be shown missing him
Crosshair
Crosshair will continue to struggle with decision making, Omega will serve as his conscience
He will struggle greatly with PTSD
He will reunite with his fam mid season
Crosshair and bros HUG
Crosshair will be sassy with his bros again
Crosshair will grow in his relationship with Omega
Sickest Crosshair sniping yet
He’ll compliment Omega on her shooting skills
Hunter will hand off caring for Omega to Crosshair (which will be such a great resolution to both of their arcs)
Wrecker
Wrecker will showcase more of his emotional intelligence
Wrecker will be desperate to not lose anymore of his family
He will blow up so many things
Wrecker more subdued/sad/thoughtful
Origins of Lula revealed
Either Lula is left with Omega or at Hunter’s grave
Echo
Echo will leave with Rex for good
He will get his handprint back (I’m thinking in the red blood of someone he loves this time…)
Echo finally gets a normal arm
Echo survives, fate unknown so he can be in other Star Wars content (Echo base etc)
Callback to Fives
Echo SURVIVES (he won’t die. They would be showing him in trailers much more if they were planning on killing him off)
Omega
Confirmation that she is Force Sensitive
Omega’s purpose revealed
Omega tied to Rey somehow (?)
Flashback of Omega meeting TBB as babies
Omega being strategic and getting herself and Cross out
She will have a bond with Emerie and change her for the better (like Omega always does. She just makes people better)
Ventress will take interest in her and vice versa
Omega will help resolve the tension between Crosshair and Hunter
She will survive to the end of the war. She will be in future Star Wars content.
Asajj Ventress
Asajj will force choke the boys (that’s a given)
She’ll probably flirt with them too
She will team up with the boys (after she tries to kill them first, and she will almost succeed because they honestly don’t stand a chance against her)
She will have a particular relationship/role to play with Omega
Quinlan Vos cameo (he will be with Asajj)
Others
Cody will return
Cody’s fate won’t be revealed in TBB so they can use him for other content
TBB get a dog
Flashbacks of TBB Clone Wars Era
One of the boys will actually cry actual tears
Someone will get a life-threatening injury
Galen Erso appearance
More Director Krennic
Pabu will be compromised and destroyed
Pabu will be revealed to be Scarif
Bad Batch family shot mirroring that scene on the Kamino landing platform in Season 1
Force sensitive clones
Darth Vader cameo (albeit brief)
Nemec and Fireball will die
Fennec teams up with and leaves on good terms with the boys
Fennec gives the boys a hard time
Snoke reveal
Death Star references galore
Final Clone War/Uprising
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No one hates Grievous like Dave Filoni
So I've heard that when TCW began Dave Filoni was mandated to use General Grievous as his primary villain... And I've got a feeling he holds a grudge about it because man, does he hate the guy lol.
-Cad freaking Bane is more of a Jedi hunter than General Grievous who holds a whole collection of lightsabers. Cad freaking Bane fought two Jedi Masters and beat Obi-Wan at lightsaber combat... And Grievous can't kill more than a single throwaway character throughout the entire series.
-Ventress upstages him as the Separatist's main assassin, shown to be able to fight Anakin and Obi-Wan simultaneously and get the better of a Jedi Master in combat. She tops it off by defeating Grievous in under 60 seconds, thus cheapening his only victory in the show over the Nightsisters.
-Padawan Ahsoka twice fights and survives an encounter with him without injury save for once where he managed to choke her... Only for her to cut off his hand and escape.
-General Grievous was beaten up by gungans after being tricked by Jar-Jar Binks.
-He's all-but erased from the show as soon as Dave gets the clear to use other villains; any conflicts set up with Grievous (like his icy relationship with Dooku) is immediately forgotten.
-He gets captured again alongside Dooku in the Maul comics that were based off unreleased episodes. Although he at least does something when he's freed which is a first for him.
Like man, Dave Filoni really hates the guy. Every other villain he gives cool moments to, but Grievous? He gets one or two brief moments but that's about it.
As ridiculously OP as General Grievous was in the original Clone Wars (The early 2000's one) was they at least put thought into how exactly he'd able to defeat Jedi without the Force. That being to catch them off-balance and use fear to throw off their focus... Dave uh, really should've copied that over.
#General Grievous#Star Wars#TCW critical#The Clone Wars critical#Dave Filoni critical#Cad Bane critical#Ahsoka Tano critical#Asajj Ventress#Filoni critical
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Happenstance
Hondo Ohnaka x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are a rich heiress with daddy issues; Hondo is an ex-pirate without purpose. Your fates are intertwined, and soon you will be too, unless the hired help can’t keep her mouth shut. Will your relationship advance, or is your meeting purely happenstance?
Content warning: 18+ / NSFW for alcohol / mention of drugs, fingering in a public place, kissing, blowjobs, dry humping, tit sucking, cunnilingus, PiV sex, daddy issues, alcoholic parent, neglectful parent, caught in the act, stealing, and HEAVY simping. Reader is WEALTHY. Reader's parents are at some point present in this fic. No physical description other than the fact she has a decent pair of tits.
Word count: 23.4k (SORRY)
Notes: Oh My God. I started this fic last Spring Break when I was still in graduate school, if you recall, and I just managed to finish it this week -- almost a year to the day. Don't ask me how it got to 23,000 words, but -- SO SORRY. I edited it to the best of my ability.
This is the longest single thing I have written with only two small breaks as a continuous story. I read Pirate's Price / listened to the audiobook version, and was inspired. Hondo lives rent-free in my head, as does Cad Bane. I should mention the bit about Hondo hiding his true intentions behind his goggles is an idea @allsystemsblue had some time ago and I agree. They are like a shield, barring view into his soul.
P.S.: Yes, I had to throw in a Cad Bane / Duros mention, and yes I threw in a scene in a library. I couldn't help myself. ;D
Read on Ao3
Ah, what a perfect evening for a teensy bit of excitement of another sort. Smooth jizz music provided a delightfully mellow atmosphere, the accompaniment of moderate lighting helping to facilitate a most relaxing experience. This particular high-priced cantina was bathed in a wash of dark hues and tantalizing scents, however one individual scent stood out from all the others - it was the unmistakable and arousing smell of profit! Hondo Ohnaka knew this odorous perfume like the back of his scaly hand – which was quite well, in fact – and this time it had decided to take on the form of a beautiful woman wearing a rather priceless heirloom around her supple neck.
Oh, but this was no ordinary woman and no ordinary heirloom! This woman was one of the wealthiest women in the galaxy by no fortune of her own, and the priceless object she wore around her graceful neck was none other than a fragment of Life-crystal, a valuable stone only procured from one planet by the name of Rafa from the aptly labeled Life-orchards. Hondo only knew this from eavesdropping on the greedy aristocracy that populated this little rock. She was an heiress who most likely had many riches to her name; it was too tempting to pass up such an easy target.
Despite the lore and interesting stories ascribed to the jewel in her possession, the important thing was that these Life-crystals sold for exorbitant amounts of credits on the black market from Batuu to Scarif, and it was this object that called to him like no other. Currently. As far as Hondo was concerned, that crystal belonged with him – that is, until he sold it – which hopefully would be as soon as possible once he laid his twitchy, ring-laden fingers on it.
The crimson coated devil took note of his surroundings, drinking in the scenery, the song, the “ambiance,” if you will, as he mentally prepared himself for the task – or rather, game – at hand. This flashy establishment was situated in the middle of the entertainment district on Oseon 6845, the largest asteroid in the Oseon System. It was spattered with opulent hotels, stately residences, and venues for shopping, dining, gambling, and so much more.
It was not important how he arrived here, but it was important that he find a means of transport on his way out. Hondo would no doubt have to make a quick getaway and possibly even a daring escape should the worst case scenario happen to occur – the one where he was caught red-handed! It never hurt to think ahead.
Hondo recalled seeing an XS stock light freighter snugly nestled in its docking bay back at the local spaceport, not to mention many luxury starships. This thought somewhat quelled the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach, though the pirate oftentimes felt butterflies before any sort of risky activity! The thrill, the chase - the not-knowing-what was-going-to-happen-next part – all very addicting and quite satisfying at the end of a hard day’s “work.”
Presently, however, his attention was captured by the thing he sought – all in due time for everything else – knowing that it was in his best interest to focus on one criminal undertaking at a time, though he was of course capable of multitasking. Adjusting his sleeves in turn and flicking a speck of something off the ornate cuff link of his decadent outerwear, Hondo sized up the fine specimen before him with a tilt of his head and a twinkle in his eye; it was just visible beyond thick black rectangles and reinforced transparisteel.
This lovely creature who leisurely sipped her Toniray carried with her an air of… something. Nobility? No. Regality? Definitely not. Ennui? Perhaps. Or maybe it was an overwhelming sense of entitlement. Regardless, Hondo stepped forward with hands clasped firmly behind his back, unable to help his poor posture after all these years. He supposed he looked a bit out of place, what with his eclectic fashion sense and the swagger in his step, but that had never stopped him before, and it most certainly would not stop him now! It was then the Weequay had a unique thought: he could use her apparent boredom to his advantage. What that clearly entailed he had only a few seconds to figure out as she had already laid her eyes on him. And what captivating eyes they were.
Oh, this would be easy, he realized, like taking candy from a youngling. He almost felt guilty – almost being the keyword here – but he had not too long ago disabled his pirate’s honor! There was no turning back for Hondo, not once his mind was made up once and for all!
That is, unless there was some unforeseen issue… one that he did not realize until it was already too late…
Luckily, as of right. this. very. moment, that was not the case! The scoundrel had set his intentions. By the subtle shift in this woman’s posture - the miniscule nuances of her body language – he knew – oh, he knew -- she would be receptive to the most fun game of all: the art; the craft of double-tongued seduction! This night may turn out to be awfullllly interesting indeed, he mused.
---
A man approached you – if you could call him a man. He was not human, but Weequay, although he was dressed very peculiarly. You had been lounging with an expensive, rare, and azure Alderaanian wine. At a thousand credits a glass, it was nothing you could not afford as you were the daughter of a weapon’s dealer and manufacturer; your father had a contract with the Empire. You had not worked a day in your short life though boredom had set in.
Your eyes traveled over this odd fellow, noting despite his eccentric look he was rather handsome in a sort of rugged, cavalier way. If you were being honest, this being having locked his sights on you like one of your father’s heatseeking missiles was the most exciting thing to have happened to you all week long.
Though you were rich, your life was one of tedium and endless irritation mostly brought on by the rest of your family. You had your small pleasures, your haunts, and your dirty little secrets, but overall your days were dreary and uneventful. In fact, you did not have a good relationship with the majority of your siblings and your father’s work consumed him. You still harbored resentment for how many birthdays he had missed.
Considering these facts, you discreetly straightened your posture, taking another sip of your chosen beverage to project a façade of casual impassivity; there was no sense in appearing desperate for his regard.
“Forgive me ef I am intruding – dhough as you sit alone, I du not believe dat I am -” the man began, pausing before you, “- but I couldn't help but notice your long face from across de room.” He offered a bow of his head, his right arm lifting ever so slowly for his bedecked digits to gently clasp and raise your hand. He planted a kiss against the back of it; your heart instantly fluttered despite yourself -- you had been disarmed. “A flower as radiant as you should not be made tu suffer so. Tell me, what ails you, my dear?”
“Are you always so bold?” you asked without thinking, much to your regret. You were used to being approached by others, it came with the territory. Your family was famous in this system, and someone was always trying to inch their way into your admittedly small social circle. However, in this instance you were intrigued, a little off-put, but also very much enjoying the attention of this dashing sentient. You did not try to dislodge your fingers from his grasp; you allowed him to naturally release your hand of his own accord.
The stranger smiled - or rather, grinned devilishly - revealing his pearly whites alongside shining gold. Your eyebrows raised ever so lightly in surprise, you having instinctually drawn your arm back once the man had finished with his somewhat antiquated mode of greeting; he was treating you as if you were some fair maiden in a holomovie from times of old, yet you were anything but. “Ah, yes, you see, bold es my middle name – one of dem, for I have many – alongside bastard, and scoundrel, and ‘hey you, get back here!’ Et es one of de… nicer tings I have been called.”
The man settled in, resting one elbow casually on the bar top next to where you sat, fingers snapping briskly together as he called to the Duros behind the counter. “A drink, I tink!” Then, returning his attention to you, he lowered his voice, a low-pitched baritone replacing the sharper notes he had used seconds earlier to address the server. “But you ded not answer any of my questions. I am so curious tu know… what could make such a beautiful woman frown so very, very hard…”
He trailed off, feigning he did not know anything about the preposterous amounts of money your family supposedly had to its name; he was amazed you were sitting here alone. Perhaps you had a bit of a rebellious streak. The one thing that made sense to him was that this “planet” was full of the well-to-do. Such little riffraff passed through Oseon, you had no need for bodyguards or security measures - unlike your father – perhaps a mistake. A mistake that would cost you quite a lot of credits!
Yet, Hondo felt you should feel lucky. He was a rogue, a thief, a technically ex-pirate, but he would not be any of those things at the risk of your physical harm. No, no! He was not that kind of brigand, not anymore! Mental harm, perhaps. Harm to your ego - to your pocketbook - but that is where he drew the line!
In fact, as of late, he had the thought of starting up a legitimate business of his own.
Of course, he would require funds to undertake such a venture… There would be overhead costs - things he would need to purchase or otherwise procure by different means – and he was sure your little trinket would help to offset anything he could not ordinarily afford.
Yes, yes, he had nearly sold the Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano into slavery knowing that she would catch the eye of a… certain type of person. Yes, he had objectified and sexualized many species, including his own, both men and women – not to mention all his other crimes - but! But, but, but, but, buttt! That was all behind him – pun intended – or so he liked to think! He supposed there was always a chance some impossibly-hard-to-ignore opportunity might present itself, but until. that. time, Hondo Ohnaka was a gentleman.
It was when the server arrived that, unfortunately, Hondo realized he was rather short on credits, and that this fine venue was a little bit too rich for his jet-black blood. Under most circumstances, he would have ordered anyway, started a tab to walk out on later, convinced his latest victim-er-friend to buy him one, or merely walked behind the bar and poured it himself, yet today - today - he decided to tell the truth. It was far more exciting that way, and excitement appeared to be the very thing you needed, for Hondo was rarely wrong in that respect.
“Excuse me, my sweet,” he interrupted before you could even begin to answer his previous query, “but would you mind paying for dis old pirate’s drink? Credits are… so hard tu come by dese days. What you are having es fine,” he finished with another arresting smile.
You sat quietly, captivated. Your brain needed a moment to catch up. You absentmindedly waved a hand to the bartender, asserting that it was OK, and to put it on your tab. The Duros produced another glass of Toniray, nearly the color of its scales, and the self-proclaimed pirate merrily swiped it from her outstretched hand before there was a chance to set it down. He took a measured swig then inspected it up close, drawing the imported wine near to his weathered goggles. “Ah, a fine vintage,” he declared. “Very rare and expensive, I presume.”
“A thousand credits a glass,” you said offhand, twisting the stem of your flute against the bar top. The pirate nearly spat out his next sip of wine, though that would have been a waste, so instead he nearly choked while swallowing.
“I daresay, dat es …more dan I anticipa-”
“-you’re welcome,” you interjected, the smallest of simpers curling the corner of your mouth. You took the opportunity to allow yourself another drink, watching him carefully over the rim of your pricey beverage. Even though you came off cool and collected, inside you felt a tingle of something akin to delight. You had never seen a pirate before, much less talked to one. Despite your station in life, you were more or less sheltered. The number of times you had stepped foot off this damned rock could be counted on one hand.
“Oh-ho-ho, a woman with expensive tastes! On dat we can relate.”
“On account of you being a pirate?” you inquired.
The way this Weequay’s smile split his face in twain should have been alarming, the brightness of his expression more luminous than the light of a thousand suns. He chuckled from the seat of his belly, throwing back another gulp of Toniray before he gazed at you with steely eyes, a twinkle residing deep within.
“As my beloved mother always used tu say, all dat glitters es not gold! Sometimes, et es someting even more valuable, like a much-needed vacation, or an interesting conversation,” the devil claimed, gesticulating with his hand as he circled back to his main point. “But, more importantly, de… company of a most gorgeous woman for de evening, hm?”
“Oh, is that why you’re here?” you teased. “You’ve decided to make a pass at me? And here I thought my ‘long face’ had you concerned.”
“My dear,” the nameless man began, the lush complexity of his timbre sending a shiver down your spine. “Are you calling me a liar?” he asked, even toned. His sudden seriousness caught you by surprise considering the circumstances.
Your expression mimicked your abrupt change in mood, a slight look of embarrassment crossing your features as you stumbled to come up with an answer. This prompted the man to laugh so boisterously that the volume of his mirth caused you to startle in your seat. But you would be remiss if you failed to admit that the stern shade he had taken with you stirred something primal that could not so easily be explained.
“Hondo does. not. lie,” the character before you blurted out, “he merely stretches de truth on occasion. But!” he continued, “enough about me, for now – though I am so very interesting – what of you, madam?”
What Hondo failed to comprehend or notice - though the pirate could be said to always notice everything - was the reason for your sudden slack jawed stare. Your brain was whirring with memories – memories of your childhood – and the anger your father projected when storming about your house. Before the fall of the Galactic Republic, he had made his fortune selling weapons to both sides, covertly playing the field so well that he earned billions, but there was forever present a sharp thorn in his side.
By this point in your short history, at an age where you were cognizant of politics and war and their respective atrocities and outcomes, you were somewhat disgusted by your family trade. Growing up you had wanted nothing more than to be seen and heard, yet your father was always said to be preoccupied.
Your disdain for him grew, as well as the company he spearheaded that raked in profits from death and destruction. There was only one thing that gave you a small reprieve and a tiny amount of joy – a household name that was spoken more times than you could count – the source of all your father’s woes and troubles - a thing that made you smile when nothing else would, and it was the curse of one Pirate King, his title like music to your ears: Hondo Ohnaka, the venerable bane of your patriarch’s existence. And now, here he was, in all his waggish glory.
One particular hyperspace route, the Shaltin tunnels, ran straight through the Sertar sector, home to Florrum and situated deep within the Outer Rim territories. No matter how many times or how many ways your father tried to deliver his goods to their respective buyers, it seemed the Ohnaka Gang was always there to disrupt his schedule.
Though he never stepped foot outside his cozy office, more and more men died on route to Syngia Station nearly every day, all thanks to a notorious gang of miscreants. Although some did live to tell the tale, they came back empty-handed time and time again. Whatever wares were aboard those freighters became the personal property of one very crafty Weequay. The rush it gave you to see your father so distressed, the absolute glee you felt as you watched his veins pop out - it was exhilarating.
It was like some kind of well-deserved revenge for all the wrongs he had committed, and for all those missed birthdays, holidays, and milestones. You loved seeing him so flustered and out of sorts. It was a reward for all the trouble you had to go through.
For one, your mother was a rather lonely drunk, a lush for lack of a better word, and his absence only further drove her to the bottle. You blamed him for all life’s ails; your eldest brother remained an undisciplined, boorish loaf who wasted his life gambling, and you were stuck here on this Goddamn rock, though he would be the one to receive your family’s fortune in the event of your father’s untimely death.
For once, excitement had come to you. This man you suddenly wanted to kiss so badly had stepped foot into your life, and though he seemed to have no idea who you were or what was about to happen, you were trying and failing to remain calm.
Still, that look of shock and awe, and something downright strange remained plastered on your face, the scoundrelly fellow shifting his body weight as he gave you an incredulous glance. He frowned, switching his attention down to the Toniray left in his glass. He finished it in one final swig, then made an observation as he studied the now empty flute.
“I can… tell when I’m not wanted. I apologize for wasting your time. I shall take my leave of you,” he stated calmly while setting his vacant vessel down.
You had to make sure; you could not let him scamper off, not without confirming his identity. “Wait!” you entreated, worried that you sounded a little too excitable. The Weequay’s eyes widened beneath his four-sided frames as he served you a questioning look, though it quickly dissipated, Hondo intrigued by this unexpected outburst.
“Don’t go,” you half asked, half demanded of the trickster, your hand rising for you to return the Duros to you. “Bartender, another glass of Toniray,” you instructed, your eyes never once leaving the slanted, stormy gaze of the rogue just adjacent. You lightly touched his wrist as it lay limply against the bar top, fingers caressing the leathery skin that peeked from beneath the sleeve of his long coat.
“Your mother sounds like an interesting woman,” you offered, motioning for him to take up residence at your side. “Join me?”
“Yes, dat she was. Dat. she. was.” His gloomy disposition melted before your very eyes like ice in a glass, though there was a pause; it was as if he was ruminating on some time long since passed.
“Who am I tu deny you?” he finally quipped with a sweep of his forearm beneath his ribs. The knave bowed in a gesture of goodwill before he rose to take up a nearby stool. “And since you asked so very-very nicely-” he started, flipping his other arm right side up. Your teasing hand was involuntarily repositioned to lay within the center of his palm, not that you minded. “-how can I say no?”
You endeavored to begin your impromptu interrogation without him noticing, though you were so antsy it was a wonder that you could stay still in your seat. You watched, charmed by his every movement, chewing idly on your bottom lip as the former pirate king appreciatively took his beverage from its resting place.
He savored another sip, swirling its contents to absorb its aroma like a true connoisseur. You casually wondered how many wines this man had sampled in his lifetime, though he interrupted your train of thought before you delved too deep. “I am impressed, my little beauty, dat you would go out of your way tu spend such a hefty sum on little old me,” he passively admitted. “Es dere a reason for your… generosity?”
“Are you the Hondo? As in, Hondo Ohnaka of the Ohnaka gang?” you blurted out, unable to control your inquisitive nature and desiring to know right then and there if this was the man that had kept your father awake at night all those years ago - so much for playing coy.
“Ah, so you have heard of me,” the Weequay beamed, once more that infectious smile overtaking the entirety of his face as his ego was given a healthy boost of self-esteem. “Though I am no longer-” he crinkled his broad nose in mock disgust “-acquainted with de gang who stole my name, yes, I am he. He es me. I am Hondo Ohnaka, en de flesh.”
“Fuck,” you exhaled in a whisper, the expletive pulled from your lips with a sigh that bordered lewd. You made to remove your hand from his, pressing your already crossed legs together as you distracted yourself by biting into the perfectly manicured nail of your index finger.
“What’s she like?” you randomly thought to ask, but more so to sedate yourself. “The mother of a pirate king – what kind of woman was she?”
The thief was taken aback. Though not opposed to talking about his dear, sweet mother, Hondo could not help but notice the odd reaction to the affirmation of his given name. His smile became more nuanced, the layer visible to the people in the room one of joviality, while an alternative cognitive process vested itself and presented as the tiniest twist in his upper lip. He stowed what he had learned; for now he would do his best to entertain you, his wandering gaze studying the shape of your body before his stony eyes lingered, focusing for one millisecond – without detection - on your crystal necklace. Eyes on de prize, he thought, though now he believed there to be a chance of gaining more than one type of prize tonight.
“She was wise beyond her years,” he began in a somber, yet affectionate cadence, “and always offered sound advice. Dhough my childhood ded not consist of fun and games, she taught me all she knew, namely how tu swindle an easy target!” The Weequay dallied to see if he had captured your full attention. You did not try to hide the fact that you were already hanging on his every word.
“No, dere were no hugs or lullabies for me, no creature comforts, nor any luxuries, but what we ded have between us was love – or, at least, I tink so, for a short time later she sold me intu slavery – and I will never forget her en all my days. Without my poor, sweet mother, I would not be de man I am tuday! Tu her I owe my life, even dhough she… often tried tu get rid of me before dis, but I du not love her any less! She did de best she could and dat, little one, es all dat matters en de end.”
What he failed to tell you were the fine details: how both his parents were nearly destitute with many mouths to feed; how his mother had kicked him out on more than one occasion when feeling cross with him; how a religion he did not believe in forced him into a life not of his choosing, and all because his kin had decided he was the easiest to sacrifice thanks to some… plastic, talkingnovelty, some children’s toy! But Hondo was not stupid – despite what some may think – he knew well enough they were in it for the profit to be made. Perhaps it was the greatest lesson of all that his mother had taught him: never trust anyone, not even your own clan.
Instead of basking in the finality of his solemn words, you jumped - which was borderline disrespectful – to the next topic on your list. You could always apologize for your abundant enthusiasm later if need be, but for some reason you doubted that it would be a problem.
“What happened to your merry band of pirates?” you asked, brushing your dress shoe against the Weequay’s ankle before you could put an end to it. Hondo responded by taking up his glass with one hand, while the other shamelessly placed itself upon your knee.
He chortled dryly, giving your leg a squeeze that made your pulse quicken and your heart race. “Dat, my ravishing beauty, es a story not worth repeating.”
“Tell me another one instead? A different story?” you chirruped, scooching closer until you were but a hairbreadth away from the handsome scoundrel, hip parallel to hip. You felt daring enough to uncross your legs, purposely rubbing your silky thigh against his trousers through the slit in your dress. You gingerly batted your lashes, knowing full well you were taking on the role of flirt, yet unable to control your most base desire. Currently, it was to simply touch the man in any way you could, or in any way he might allow.
“Hmm, yes,” he hummed, his bony fingers drifting lazily from the cusp of your knee to the beginnings of your thigh, “I can… tink of someting dat may … pique your interest. A tale of one of my many successful business ventures, perhaps.”
“Please,” you cooed, leaning closer still for the curve of your shoulder to playfully graze against armored plating; wisps of your hair swept across his sensitive frills, though ironically you did not know anything about alien biology, much less Weequay. You purred out a tiny whisper of satisfaction as his hand trailed upward, the heat between your legs beginning to build upon itself in spite of you just having met this man. Though the smile he gave you was of cartoonish proportions, there was just something about it, not to mention the reputation that preceded him that was nearly causing you to come undone.
With elegant precision, Hondo set down his glass, callous digits curling to rise and stroke the underside of your chin as he gazed resolutely into your eyes. Then, he asked if you had ever heard of a particular arms manufacturer with a particular name.
The aforementioned organization was the one run by your father. With your best sabacc face you shrugged, though the suspense was killing you. You were about to hear one of your father’s tales from the perspective of the Pirate King himself. You were doing your utmost to contain your zeal, among other things; it was absolutely serendipitous, a moment of happenstance.
“You see, dis, company, dis, organization - whatever you want tu call et – must have had one of de dumbest persons en charge of deir logistics, because no matter how. many. times. dey sent deir fancy cargo ships off entu space, Ohnaka and his gang, we took what was rightfully ours. By rightfully, of course, I mean de… fact dat dey were en our territory, and once you step foot – or fly ship – entu Hondo’s very backyard, why, you have no right tu question de king en his own domain!”
“Mhm,” you muttered, your foot still fondling his ankle as you leaned over on your elbow against the bar. You observed his voice to be expressive and melodic, each word articulated eloquently despite his decidedly swift pace. He was just getting warmed up, yet you felt you could listen to him talk all night should it please him as much as it pleased you.
Hondo embraced the meat of your thigh with another soft squeeze before ever so slowly inching up once more. You reined in a lustful utterance, compressing your lips to form a line as you refused to give in so easily to your increasingly obscene impulses.
He continued with his tale.
“Et just so happens – on dis specific occasion – dat dese weapons were on route tu a Jedi general! I intercepted, not knowing any better, of course, claiming de very expensive, very important missiles for myself.”
Hondo paused, taking another delicate sip of his Toniray as you blinked languidly, wanting him to continue as soon as possible. “You knew Jedi?” you asked, enthralled.
“Of course I knew Jedi! Hondo knows – well, knew – many, many Jedi en his time. Considering dis man I was speaking of, dis general, tu be my friend, I had a devious plan dat would work out en both our favors…”
He trailed off; you squealed audibly in disappointment, a low, profoundly resonate chuckle rising up from the pit of his throat to rumble just beside you. The ruffian had drifted closer, the tip of his flat nose nuzzling the smooth skin along your neck as it came to rest in the divot behind your ear.
You shuddered reflexively, letting a faint gasp escape you as Hondo’s fingers toyed with the fabric of your dress. “So eager tu hear de rest, aren’t we, little one?”
“Yes,” you practically pleaded. You turned on your stool to fully face him, leaning in so close that you felt your lips might touch. The cunning rascal only grinned again, this time leaving his cup behind to lightly run a thumb crossways your pouty mouth, the rest of his wiry digits tenderly wrapping around the bend of your cheek.
“So eager… for someting else,” he stated, though that did not stop him from recounting more of his adventure. “Dis Jedi - trusting old Hondo as well he should - came tu me, realizing dat dis particular dealer was … unreliable. He knew I was a purveyor of many, many tings, and he assumed – correctly, might I add – dat I had connections tu get dese tings he wanted.”
The Weequay had pulled away from you just marginally, enough to look you in the eye again. You whined a nearly indiscernible sound of protest, your fingers drifting downward to clasp the hand that still relaxed along your thigh. Ever so slowly you began to guide it, Hondo releasing a pent-up breath through his nostrils as his smile took on a hint of mischief. He relaxed his arm and let you take the lead.
“Dere were many battles,” he remarked boastfully. “Each one was more exciting dan de last. Dey upped deir security forces, tried tu establish an alternative route with little success, and de man himself, de hoity-toity richly rich guy even went so far as tu learn of my private comm frequency so he could scold me en, well, person!”
By this time, he had worked himself up, Hondo gripping your thigh a tad harder in his fervor. You carefully caressed the back of his hand. He seemed to settle, or at least enough to release the pressure behind his grasp, but at the idea of your father being so stark raving mad that he had solicited this wily pirate for a cease and desist forced you to suppress a grin as you presently returned to gnawing on your bottom lip. You spread your legs a little wider as you snuggled up close to the much older man, making sure your knees touched; he hummed a sweet sound of gratitude, coming off his high horse to speak at a more suitable volume.
“Oh, he was … so, so livid… I thought for sure de guy would have a heart attack right den and dere, but fortunately, or maybe rather unfortunately, he ded not.” Your arousal currently trumped your amusement, even as a visual of your father in one of his disagreeable moods found its way into your thoughts once more. You nodded to inform him you were still being attentive, your free hand undertaking a courageous feat when you laid it upon his chest.
You did the very thing he had sought to do all evening, yet not wanting to earn your distrust or ire from the outset; you toyed with the tiny charms that dangled about his neck as he craved a chance to touch the Life-crystal that lived around yours. He withheld any comment, even as you languorously traced a path down the cut between his firm pectorals. He gazed at you with heavy-lidded eyes behind his goggles before he dived back in, his voice having lost its ebullient tone all together to be supplanted by something a bit more sultry and seductive.
“His eyes, dey bulged, as ef I had my boot on de back of his head. He spoke of profits lost and some personal grievances of his.” He tittered wryly, noticing your extremity felt warm to the touch. “My little flower, you’re blushing,” he noted matter of fact before finishing his thought.
“I said tu him, my good sir, as my beloved mother always told me, du not put all your nuna eggs en one basket – et es bad for business. Ef you drop de basket, you have no eggs, however, should you spread your legs – I mean, eggs - out over many, many baskets… dere es more of a chance you will still have some tu-” his voice dropped emphatically lower, “-eat.”
You caught fire the same time you caught onto his innuendo regardless of how lascivious or ridiculous it had been. You finally took your innocent fraternizing to another level, ushering the Weequay’s lengthy fingers all the way up and beneath your skirt.
A small breath hitched in Hondo’s chest though nearly undetectable. He tensed minutely before he relaxed. The only change in his outward appearance was the torsion of his cheeky grin into an expression that was on the verge of evincing scuzz and sleaze; it only further impassioned the inferno that was quickly catching ablaze within your loins.
Once accomplishing your task, both your arms lifted to capture the pirate’s neck in a loose and lighthearted hold. You dangled somewhat awkwardly around his shoulders, your lips daringly planting a soft peppering of kisses across his weathered cheeks and then reverently across his mouth; his bottom lip was so full, so plush. You could not help but spend an extra moment there, gently pressing your teeth into his flesh.
Hondo sighed in yearning, enjoying the inundation of spontaneous affection, so long it had been for a woman of your caliber, or any woman at all, to pay him any mind. Perhaps it could be blamed on the reality his majesty kept tucked away inside; the reality where he no longer tried to keep close to anyone for fear of what the future might bring later down the road. Too many times had the Weequay allowed his heart to reside unprotected on his sleeve, and whether it be men, women, his rambunctious band of outlaws, or the fading memory of a once great love, he dare not tread that path again, or walk that line so closely to the edge.
But, he had to remember, you were just a woman. A woman with a valuable and priceless jewel hanging around her neck; one that he wanted, and he still thought – though his thoughts were now heavily clouded – that he could use your rapacious neediness to receive an undue windfall, and just in time, for he had debts to settle.
No one seemed to pay you any mind, the rapscallion Sriluurian taking your more than obvious hint to brush the tips of dusky fingers along the silken fabric of your panties. He exuded a hushed moan, your sex having already left a moist outline from where your arousal spilled over to dampen your undergarments, but so heavenly a thing it was, the pirate had no complaints to offer but a semblance of praise instead.
“My dear, you are-” he whispered delightedly, “-so… unbelievably… wet.”
You nodded, kissing him again in tiny, unhurried spurts directly on the mouth, your hips rocking gently forward to encourage further exploration beneath your dress.
He obliged, Hondo gingerly teasing your already soaked cunt by staying above the thin strip of cloth that guarded your aching sex. His touch was so featherlight it simultaneously infuriated and stimulated you to beseech him for something more.
“Hondo,” you breathlessly announced his name, “come with me,” you implored him, your voice a whine against his lips as you covertly slipped your tongue past ivory and gold to lap at tongue and teeth.
“Mm, darling …” The pirate’s words were temperate, spoken between playful licks and nips. “Tugether? At de same time? I would love tu,” he insinuated artfully. “I also du not mind waiting my turn.”
The Weequay’s dexterous digits slid your panties to the side, his last three fingers gathering the fabric as his thumb discreetly aided his index in parting your velvet folds. He exhaled into you, a wanton groan escaping him in muted notes as he saturated himself in your warm slick.
He took his time, glossing your sensitive clit with the pad of a surprisingly soft thumb as he slid his stool closer to yours. A wave of all-encompassing desire surged through your core as you emitted a prurient gasp; it shortly devolved into a piteous mewl of pleasure, and the scoundrel had barely touched you. The music was thankfully loud enough - and the barkeep too busy serving others – for anyone to discover what was truly happening. From an outsider’s perspective, you may have looked like two lovers kissing, and perhaps it was not far from the truth.
“Oh, God, fuck,” you murmured shyly against scarred and sand-worn lips, though they were still so tantalizing and palatable. A bassy hum commenced, reverberating in such a way it immediately soothed you, despite it transitioning into a throaty chuckle. The scamp had begun to work precise, intricate circles around your swollen pearl.
“Not a God, sweet one, but de thought es appreciated,” he retorted before bringing the conversation back around. “I… never finished my story,” he informed you in an indolent tone, Hondo having pulled away from your mouth to grace your neck with downy kisses, the Weequay continuing where he left off, even as he nursed off the taste of your skin and surreptitiously drove you toward an orgasm; he hardly exerted any effort in the process.
“You see, it was den de Jedi paid me tu deliver weapons tu dem.” More kisses were sprinkled delicately along your jaw. “I skimmed off de top – a finder’s fee, ef you will - for every freighter I intercepted.”
The patient swirling beneath your skirt forced you to grip both sides of the pirate’s foppish lapel as you suppressed what would have been a rather crude noise. You had a sudden, powerful need to press your mouth against his, your intense hunger nearly consuming you as he unapologetically persisted in delighting you in public; you were practically strangers, yet he felt so familiar to you.
“Soon, I had a great deal of firepower at my disposal, and quite a lot of credits tu my name.” The Weequay cradled your cheek as he trailed his wandering lips toward yours again. “I was one of de most feared and infamous pirates in all de galaxy,” he claimed, his voice dropping in volume once more as he reminisced.
“You still are,” you panted, voice quavering as you were so close to the edge, so close to coming already that Hondo was brought back to the present moment by your words. He positioned his palm beneath your chin, winding his spindly fingers around its point as he forced you to refocus and look him in the eyes.
“So sweet of you tu say.” Your tongue slithered back inside his mouth, Hondo’s a roiling thick, black muscle that danced around yours with such enthusiasm that it drove you to the brink, a lust filled cry quickly cut off as he waded farther down your pharynx. It was an attempt to pacify you, Hondo not wanting to cause a stir and create a cause for gossip – you were a notable woman, after all.
His stratagem worked; you came quietly, pitiable whimpers and caught breaths engulfed by the thief as if sucking your soul from out your body while he deepened the kiss even still. His free hand massaged the back of your neck and shoulders as you descended back down to earth, or rather asteroid, from off your peak. What you did not detect or even feel was his unfastening of the chain that bore the weight of your favorite charm; it had occurred with such mastery that his expert movements had gone unnoticed. At some point the pirate had pocketed the Life-crystal from its place along your throat, and you were none the wiser - not at first.
“I want you,” you brazenly admitted once some vestige of sanity returned to you. “I need you, Hondo Ohnaka, my Lord, my Liege, my Pirate King,” you crooned airily between more furtive, wistful kisses. “Please,” you implored, “don’t make me beg,” you urged, the soft press of your lips breaking away to gather just below his ear.
Perhaps this time the man felt a little out of sorts himself, maybe, just maybe, not expecting your affection for him to run so deep so quickly. Of course, that was not to say that this sort of thing had not happened many, many times before! This was not Hondo Ohnaka’s first. jump. into. hyperspace - not to detract from the absolute satisfaction he felt wholly within – but he never once grew tired of having an attractive sentient pine for more of his winsome company.
“Ah, you are a go-getter. I admire dat,” he conceded, burying himself in the crook of your neck as he returned the gesture, interspersing more physical shows of adoration in the form of pecks across your collarbone. “And… just what would you do with me?” he asked, not bothering to disengage from the task at hand.
“Treat you as the king you are,” you said without missing a beat. “Let me show you,” you offered as you pushed off your stool, the Weequay’s hand being returned to him as it slipped out from beneath your skirt. You slid forward, interlocking your fingers amongst his, drawing that dexterous appendage toward your face before your tongue snaked out. You licked the remnants of your own slick off the devil’s ribbed digits as you moaned a salacious little sound; it took Hondo’s very breath away.
The charmer found that he himself was entranced, beguiled by your display, losing himself in the sensation of your mouth around his finger. In fact, he was semi-speechless, which seldom happened, if at all, angled, achromatic eyes watching intently until you finally had the decency to free him from your spell.
“Et es… hard tu reject such a… compelling argument,” Hondo tremulously muttered, his oblique hues never once leaving you as you trailed your tongue across your upper lip and top row of teeth. You cast a sultry glance, retaking the scoundrel’s hand as you began to pull, convincing the man to get up from off his rear and follow you.
“Are you sure you’ve thought dis through?” he asked more out of curiosity, pondering the cognitive operation that led you to make such a rash decision. It definitely wasn’t because he was worried, knowing you may soon realize your beloved Life-crystal had suddenly gone missing in his notoriously thieving presence.
One might say that question was meant more for himself. While more often than not flying by the seat of his trousers, on occasion the madman had a dastardly plan. In this case, he had premeditated only as far as this, not expecting or accounting for your very flattering and pleasantly surprising gusto toward his person.
This wasn’t to say he could blame you – Hondo was well aware of his physical attractiveness and that his reputation was known far and wide for many reasons - though it was a bolster to his confidence, nonetheless. He found the answer to his query was a nonverbal one as you had made it a point to steer him in the direction of the cantina doors, the pirate playing along for he was intrigued, on top of other things.
“No, but where’s the fun in that?” you replied on your way to the exit, stealthily relaying an order by the single press of a particular button on your wrist comm -- it summoned the immediate attention of your driver, signaling that you were ready to leave this place and expected your hovercar to be waiting at your leisure. Otherwise, you maneuvered between tables, chairs, and other bar goers, all the while actively encouraging your amused captive to stay close by your side. He indulged you, the dark chortle that impishly resounded behind closed lips threatening to loosen your already slack grip on what little composure you had left.
“Ah, a woman after my own heart,” he professed in response to your gratifying answer. “I find dat a bit of spontaneity en life es good for de sou-”
Hondo did not have time to finish; you had both made your way past the double doors. Urgently, you pulled him toward you, pressing a firm kiss upon his mouth. His words died in his throat, dissolving into nothing more than a docile moan, his arms slowly rising so that both his hands might find their way to rest gingerly on either side of your pretty face. The tenderness of this singular act made your heart pump faster; you slowly drove him backward the two paces it took to reach one of the many panes of transparisteel that lined the building, the viewports of this bar extending beyond the height of the average man.
He took it all in stride, allowing you to have your way; what would be the reason not to? He pondered this as his decorated fingers skirted the curve of your jaw to apply themselves just behind your delicate little ears, drawing your exquisite visage closer as he finally made contact with the window just behind thanks to your forthright escort.
“Mn, my lovely little bird,” he cooed against your lips, “you make dis old Weequay feel wanted,” he confessed, perhaps permitting himself to be too vulnerable. It was no secret, or at least no secret to him, that he often craved the fellowship of some comely creature, or anyone at all. His was now a lonely life, traversing the galaxy in whatever way might suit his fancy, whimsy being the sole directive that propelled him from place to place.
Of course, that is exactly the opposite of what he told himself. Yes, he had lost his crew, his men, his fortress, his credits, his women, and even his Kowakian monkey-lizards! But!— he did not need them, or so he told himself. Hondo was more than the sum of all these things put together! He was a man who had accomplished so much already! And he was still… relatively young, there was still time, and perhaps he could right his reputation – for all the good it did or did not do him – to not be seen as a pirate, but a legitimate business owner with a new place carved out for him among the history books.
Still, at that moment, it did not quell his ache for this to somehow not be too good to be true as you pulled away, looking the Weequay in his uniquely askance eyes.
It was there with Hondo pressed against the wall of glass that you saw your own reflection from the corner of your vision. Pleased that you did not appear too disheveled after the sordid affair inside, you did a brief double take as you realized your favorite piece of jewelry had gone missing. You paused cursorily before gazing back at him, a playful smile exhibited despite just learning that you had been robbed.
“That’s because you are,” you returned with another kiss, quickly taking up his hand to usher him toward the appearance of an airspeeder that had slid to a halt at the end of the walkway. Your chauffeur had already opened the automated door, revealing luxurious, cushy seats on either side and a tinted pane of transparisteel that would give you privacy, though you fairly trusted the man who would fly you to your destination. Still, you had plans he was not privy to.
“This way,” you guided him, pulling Hondo along as you crawled in first. The scoundrel followed, taking the seat opposite yours as the door slid closed, pewter irises absorbing their surroundings as your guest inspected your opulent ride.
“Dis es quite de vehicle,” he commented, perhaps feigning being impressed more than truly affected by its extravagant size and ostentatious interior. “Et es yours?” he questioned you curiously, though sure that he already knew the answer.
You presently ignored him as you actuated the comm panel built into a nearby console, your voice calling out to your duteous wheelman as you gazed unwaveringly into Hondo’s eyes. “Home,” you instructed him, continuing to stare unapologetically with a hungry look as the thief leaned back and got comfortable, a saucy smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.
“You are … taking me home tu mother, yes?” he teased, knowing full well he was not the “take home to mother” sort, however, that was more or less the case.
The airspeeder began to move, joining the faint traffic that existed on this space rock, however fashioned to look as if its surface were hospitable to life. Synthetic trees whizzed by, accompanied by an assortment of lights as you zipped past The Esplanade. It was a pedestrian thoroughfare known for its fine shopping and dining, though you did not let that distract you as you persisted in admiring your catch. This time, your study of the Weequay was once more complemented by a nibble to your bottom lip.
“You are clearly awestruck by my illustrious presence. Of course, dis es tu be expected. I completely understand. Aldhough, considering you were not shy en de cantina, I thought perh-”
You whisked forward, nimbly placing your knees on either side of his muscular thighs as you came in to straddle his lap. You planted yourself firmly astride him, both arms reaching up for your explorative fingers to wind their way between his frills as you moved in to kiss him once again; your need for the pirate was voracious and quite possibly unquenchable, yet so sudden was its onset.
Hondo had laughed as you approached so deliberately, though the sound of his amusement was cut short as your tongue snuck its way inside his already opened maw just for the sake of another taste. The rogue’s gaiety at once quieted, only to be replaced by a receptive moan as he settled in with you against the posh seating of your transport.
“Dat es de spot…” His comment was muffled by your kiss, Hondo reveling in the gentle caress of your human fingers as they danced between the sharp barbs along his jowls.
You abruptly halted your barrage. “I know you pilfered my necklace,” you whispered against his supple lips without further elaboration.
He froze, as if caught in a hovercar’s high beams, the shoulders and neck of the Weequay stiffening as your hands found their way down, down, until your fingers casually wrapped themselves around his throat. Your thumbs worked a pattern against his tough and scaly skin, though perhaps the charming devil may have thought you were planning to choke him right then and there.
He laughed again, this time nervously, his head marginally tipping back as his gray eyes regarded you behind his goggles. He kept a blaster on his person, after all, though it would be a shame to have to use it on such a seemingly defenseless woman. Ah, but he knew better than to fall for that! Yet, he took his chances. Danger was as alluring as it was … dangerous.
“I was… hoping you would not notice,” Hondo admitted with a kind of passive defeat, his musical voice having lowered an octave and holding within it a modicum of what you thought might be shame, or guilt.
“It’s an honor,” you teased, humming against his mouth; it was contorted in his blatant bewilderment as you slyly swept your tongue across his own, so warm and sweet. You could not help it; you gently gyrated your hips as you pressed your clothed sex against his loins, the heat in your core building as you sighed out a contented, airy breath.
“I…” he began longingly, Hondo transported back to salacious thoughts. Your provocative position across his lower half was not helping matters, as he was caught between being somewhat flabbergasted and highly aroused.
“I don’t care,” you assured him softly, your hands sliding down the pirate’s throat to brush past the armored plating of his crimson coat. Your fingertips trailed along the intricate filigree-like pattern woven into its fine threads, swirling to match the shapes, until you arrived at his gaudy belt buckle. The texture of its design was cool against your skin.
“Dat es … wonderful news …” he barely managed as the width of your splayed palm serried itself between you. You carefully groped the bulge that had begun to form beneath his trousers, nearly moaning outright at the feeling of it twitching in response to your measured touch.
Hondo himself took a moment to recoup, releasing a pent-up breath. He was not surprised you had caught on, he had only hoped it would have been after he had made a hasty getaway. Of course, agreeing to accompany you elsewhere was his first mistake.
Et's dese little details dat will get you entu trouble every time, he mused.
“You mean tu say… dat I may keep et?” he asked, perplexed. Your lips had already found their next target; they planted themselves one time after another across each raised line that was etched into his neck. He crooned out a little noise - you had never touched a Weequay before this night, and you were so very curious as your fingers tenderly kneaded the now fully swollen protrusion flexing against your palm.
“Yes,” you murmured, working your way up and over beyond his distinctive frills to administer another round of sensual kisses to the striated flesh of his angular cheek. From there beyond, you traveled to meet his lips once more, skirting the surface of his bottom rung with your teeth as you silently begged for a quick admittance.
The once great pirate king chuckled lazily as his weight slightly shifted under your own, Hondo’s hips rolling faintly beneath your grasp as he admired the sensation of your tepid hand cradling his cock. Still, it would be neglectful if he did not admit he was very, very, skeptical, the scoundrel hoping to remain mindful of the situation at the same time you had decided to deliciously squeeze his dick – it made everything ten times harder and in more ways than one.
“Ut-ut-ut,” he intoned quietly, feeling a pleasurable ache flooding his senses as your index finger had found its way to the slit at the head of his cock. “Wait-,” he began, “-but et es worth at least two mill-”
“Five million credits,” you cut him off, speaking directly into his mouth before your eager tongue worked its way past gold capped teeth to twirl around his own.
He attempted to continue to talk, even as you kissed him. “Dis es not some sort of trick? You are not pulling one over on old Hondo? I should have known better dan tu trust de intel I received!” he practically shouted, though you kept on with your mission as you replied.
“Hm? Mn-mn,” you responded, questioning exactly what he meant as you shook your head in the negative to indicate you were being honest about your intentions, unlike the pirate whose lap you were currently roosted in.
“What intel?” you whispered along his still flapping lips, your occupied hand painstakingly aligning his erection along the outside of your already damp panties. You finally let go only to begin undulating your hips while you simultaneously massaged his cock through the seam of his pants.
Hondo gave a lecherous groan, such was the sensation of you rubbing so shamelessly across his hardened member, even if only atop your clothes. It was becoming difficult for him to think clearly, and to form words, his own hands finally coming to rest gently along either side of your waist as he endeavored to keep you still.
“Dat…dat you are… so very, very rich, and so very, very bored.” He took a slow, deep inhale, attempting to contain his lust. “Dhough now, I wonder ef dis was all a ploy tu incriminate me. Perhaps you plan tu turn me en? Du you… work alone? Where are we really going, little minx?”
You gently pulled away, muttering placidly into his intriguing, pointed ear. “I was bored-” you corrected him, “-and I am very, very rich,” you finished with a mischievous smile, slightly intensifying the rhythm of your hips.
In the midst of confessing your financial status and attesting to your continual ennui, your arms rose for you to remove the backs to both your earrings; they were fashioned from Krayt Dragon pearl and as a pair worth a hundred thousand credits each. You collected them in one hand as your other collected his, placing them directly in the center of his open palm.
“Take these, too,” you offered as the intense heat in your belly further expanded, the friction from the outline of his hard-on luring a tiny whimper to the surface as you leaned back in, both arms now encircling the Weequay’s neck and head as you pushed him forward, giving him full access to your breasts.
Hondo found himself being smothered by a pair of luscious, humanoid tits; he favored them - as seemed liked the natural thing to do; his species was also endowed with such a gift – he was very familiar. Weequay, though considered to be reptilian thanks to their evolutionary adaptations - including blaster-resistant scales - were warmblooded. The women were proof of that. And, just like other warm-bloods, you had those things that were so soft, pliable, and hypnotizing.
The pirate did not complain as his oxygen supply was momentarily cut off, though he gave a muffled, somewhat exaggerated chortle as he pocketed the earrings, letting his guard down just a little more as he used both hands now free to compress those doughy objects against either side of his cheeks and not his frills – stabbing you with the spiky protrusions that grew out of his face seemed like it would ruin the mood, to put it mildly.
“Oh, you are a naughty, naughty thing, ah?” His question was suppressed by the fleshy mounds of your chest, the man having begun to carefully work them between his adroit digits as you felt a gentle nip that made you chirp. This only triggered the pirate to titter throatily, the flat of his broad tongue licking a stripe between the cleft of your cleavage.
“I love an enterprising woman who knows exactly what she wants-” he complimented, “-and how tu get et.”
Following this bout of praise, Hondo lifted one breast from the confines of your dress to be revealed, the scoundrel’s unexpectedly well-kempt-for-a-pirate’s teeth placing your sensitive nipple between them. He nibbled ever-so-slightly before intaking it to suck, the rhythm of his tongue causing you to gasp as you continued to grind against the firm outline so perfectly arranged - it was pushing you toward your second orgasm of the evening - you had no shame.
You continued to clutch at the back of his head as you rocked slowly across his lap, your breath quickening as he skillfully sought out his reward; the little noises you made were more than enough to stoke the fire in his heart, the Weequay’s suckling of your teat becoming more nuanced and refined with every small reaction your body gave.
“You’re so good at that; don’t stop,” you murmured readily, the scoundrel obliging as he kept his pace.
Within moments, you had edged your way to the cusp of pleasure once more. This time, Hondo allowed you to vocalize as you cooed for him such pleasing sounds, riding the wave to its end before you perceptibly relaxed.
The pirate unlocked his jaws, adjusting your rack for you as he refitted them where they belonged. He made a flippant comment to boot, though meaning no ill-will; he was just surprised, and maybe a tiny bit proud of himself. “Well, dat was easy.”
You grinned as you pulled away, not having time to respond as your journey came to its end. Now properly tousled, and more aroused than ever, you crawled off his person as the door began to open to reveal the path that would lead you to your home.
“We’re not finished,” you assured him, hopping up from your seat and exiting the vehicle. Hondo hesitated, as his erection had yet to subside, though he peered out to admire the lush, artificial foliage, the sprightly water fountain, and the ornate stairwell he would have to climb in order to reach a set of decorative double doors. It was more extravagant than his old fortress back on Florrum, akin to a palace, or a compound – not something as rinky-dink as a mere mansion!
“Well, well, well, es dis de Fountain Palace of Hapes? De … Castle of Per'Agthra, perhaps?” the pirate joked, finally exiting the hovercar so that your driver could attend to its proper storage. Your family had many modes of transport to their name, this airspeeder only one of them, not to mention the SoroSuub Personal Luxury Yacht 3000 parked at this planetoid’s northern pole; it could be ready to go at a moment’s notice.
“This is where I live,” you stated plainly, using all of your self-control to keep your mitts off him as two attendants came forward to offer their assistance. None was needed, so you began to shoo them away with a dismissive wave, the other hand reaching out to clasp Hondo’s bony fingers as you guided him onward and up into your family’s ridiculously prodigal home.
“Time for a tour,” you asserted lasciviously, your voice having dropped a note lower as you dragged him beyond the doors splayed open for you by a man in a crisply ironed suit. They only needed a small push before the mechanics took over, yet the theatrics and the aesthetics of an old-fashioned door had been your mother’s idea.
A woman waited for you once they had parted, though she was not your matriarch. She was the caretaker of your vast property – a housekeeper of sorts - an Arthurian with white hair who wore gloves upon her hands as was her species’ custom; she would only make eye contact with you whilst speaking as to her any other time was considered rude.
“You did not inform me we would have a guest,” she remarked, her gaze diverting to silently judge the manner of dress of the person at your side. She then turned back to you, most likely noting your rumpled appearance by the slight scrunching of her nose. “I was not prepared. My apologies.”
“Greetings, Madam,” Hondo began, moving to take a bow as he of course assumed that everyone would be interested in knowing more about him. In your heart, you knew he was not wrong, but it would not serve you in the here and now.
“I am-”
“-This is… Orb Orenk,” you interjected. The look the man gave you indicated he was affronted, just as you had feared.
“I was asked by father to retrieve him from Club Corusca. He is a new business associate of his,” you lied, hoping that she might buy it.
This woman, who was so loyal to your father that she knew his schedule like the back of her hand, gave the perfectly polished floor a peculiar expression, finally raising her eyes to look into your own once more. “Your father, last I checked, has been delayed. He will not arrive for some two rotations,” she finalized.
“Oh, well, then I suppose I shall have to entertain him,” you shrugged, taking up the Weequay’s hand again as you began to escort him past the massive foyer and into a large hall. You could feel the Arthurian staring at the back of your head as you made your way, just happy that she had kept her peace for now, even if she did not believe you one iota.
This was your home, you rationalized, though she was like its eyes and ears. At least you felt safe in the fact your father would not return for a few days’ time. The only thing that had you worried was the possibility of her recognizing your guest of honor, though so far so good, and you were at this point bound to take your chances.
Presently, however, Hondo was barely hiding his indignation as you tugged him along behind you, though somewhat distracted by all the attractive, valuable objects that were on display, as your abode was fashioned with all sorts of expensive things.
“I daresay I am wounded. Dat was uncalled-for,” he lightly scolded, “are you now embarrassed of me?” he questioned, pondering on your reasoning for giving your housekeeper a false name when you had embraced him back at the cantina for who he was.
In reality, Hondo knew what it was like to have a need to hide your identity very, very well! Still, it did not hurt any less, for his reputation was the one thing he still had left to him.
Not that it was a good reputation. He had been labeled a brigand, a rogue, and an all-around scoundrel! This was of course in addition to a smuggler, a conman, and a pirate!
As if this were all negative! A. very. unfair. assumption! Hondo Ohnaka had honor! And he was many, many things all at once, some of them more unsavory than others, and some, well, just came with the territory.
But he was also a lover, a poet, and a strategist! For now, he was a pouter, jutting out his bottom lip as he was currently offended. Once you had him far enough away, you paused, turning to face him.
Oh, that look. You heart sank as he stared at you behind timeworn transparisteel. You leaned in and took the base of his jaw in your hand, your fingers bypassing and weaving between his distinguished frills as you caressed the Weequay’s cheek with a back and forth stroking of your thumb.
“No,” you breathed out, overcome once more with lust as you pressed your lips to his. You trailed tender kisses along his mouth and to either corner before imparting your true feelings. “I don’t trust her, that's all.”
“And yet… you trust me.” Hondo’s expression transformed into a wide, shit-eating grin as he turned his head to kiss the center of your palm. He took up your hand, then planted another across the back of it.
“How very interesting,” he stated as his confidence returned.
To be fair, his confidence had not strayed very far, and Hondo was always one to bounce back quickly, no matter how awful the circumstances. Besides, this had been a rather small slight to his ego in comparison to anything else he could recall.
Still, he could not help but wonder about you, his grin broadening as you stepped closer, the devil playing submissive as you backed him in against the nearest wall.
“I am… sensing a pattern,” he said smugly, allowing you to dot the underside of his throat with a sprinkling of adoration; you slowly inched your way up and over his chin, offering your tongue once more.
The pirate accepted, prompting you to moan softly against his warm and wiry lips. Your fingers grappled with his coat as he took to groping your right breast. His other hand drew you in by the small of your back, his brand of strength gentle, yet so very compelling; it caused you to practically melt against his robust frame.
You wished this moment would never end, and perhaps it might have gone on for quite some time, had two giggling maids not rushed past you in the corridor. They attempted to shield their eyes the best they could to give you some semblance of privacy, though their incessant whispering accompanied them until they vanished around the corner.
You abruptly tore away, Hondo immediately adjusting his ensemble to remain at his most presentable. He swiped a thumb across where a tingling sensation lingered, then gave you another award-winning smile. “Et es… so hard tu find good help dese days, yes?”
“Hurry,” you persuaded him once more, towing him along in the direction you were desiring to go.
The pirate conceded, though he would not do so without giving you an earful of sound advice. “Ap-ap, my dear. As my sweet mum always used tu say, ‘rushing es a form of violence. Be quick, but du not hurry.’ Life es… so short, after all. At least, dat es what I keep hearing.”
“And I’m impatient,” you replied, having guided him to another wing of your absurdly large home only to pull him into a turbolift that would usher you to the third floor of your abode.
In the space of time it took for you to hear the chime, you kissed him three more times, your hands gliding over his stalwart form. From his taut abdominal muscles to the sharpness of his hips and down the meat of his thighs, you only paused to cup his groin; his cock was once more enlivened by a single touch of your playful fingers.
“Are you sure you aren’t just a little eager?” you asked in a mellow, teasing tone of voice.
The scoundrel laughed huskily; a sound you could become addicted to, so melodious and dry, its intriguing vibrations once more causing shivers to trickle down the length of your spine. Everything about this man, despite his connection to your father, demanded that you make love to him until you passed out from exhaustion.
And that was exactly what you planned to do. But first, business.
“You may be… ontu someting, yes?”
On that note, the lift opened to reveal another hall. You would have kissed him again, but you would wait to do so behind closed doors – there was a particular set that had long ago crossed your mind – and for more than one reason. While it made sense to take him directly to your bedroom, you had a few pit stops you wanted to make along the way.
Finally, you made one such stop, enticing the Weequay into your father’s favorite room of the house: his study and personal library.
Not sure that you had gone unnoticed upon entry, for the moment you did not care, Hondo gazing around the room and up toward the vaulted ceiling where there was a skylight that gave a clear view of the stars.
Although not obvious from first glance, Oseon’s business and residential sectors were encased in a kind of bubble. The gravity, air, and flora of this planet were all of an artificial variety. Still, it was an impressive thing to be able to look straight up into an expanse of black with only the dim twinkling of faraway stellar objects to break up the monotony.
“Your family certainly spares no expense,” Hondo remarked, glancing toward the direction you had wandered off in. At this time, you were removing a most splendid work of art from off the wall, unveiling to Hondo and to yourself a safe deposit box built right into its surface. You had seen your father open it many times and had memorized the code, knowing that sealed inside were some of his most valuable and prized possessions.
The contents were at once revealed; held within was an assortment of rubies and gemstones, diamonds, pearls, and more Life-crystal fragments, not to mention credits of the highest denomination, gold and silver – it was a veritable treasure chest! These items you gathered in handfuls, carrying them back to where Hondo stood curiously watching before you shoved both money and jewels straight into his pockets.
Hondo was dumbstruck, and maybe a tiny bit concerned, not used to someone so willingly parting with their wealth and for seemingly no good reason. He chuckled anxiously, then cleared his throat, addressing you as you walked back to get another round.
“What es de meaning of dis? Not dat I am… complaining, by any means,” he added as he dipped his fingers down into his coat. He withdrew a fistful of the riches you had so unceremoniously stuffed there without a word of explanation, admiring them, the way they sparkled; the heft of their weight in his hands; the price he knew he could get for them from the right buyer, though he did not let himself get carried away with his grandiose daydreams -– not yet. Hondo was sure he needed to keep his wits about him. This was all so very peculiar.
“I’m paying you for your services,” you stated as you returned to shove more jewelry and credits into his boundless pockets, both in front and within the lining of his coat. He balked at that, placing a hand against his chest as the other still held a wad of pretty stones, giving you the most offended look that he could muster.
“Hondo es not a common whore! He cannot be bought with-” He paused, thinking over what he was about to say. It seemed he thought better of it as you began to smatter his throat with zealous kisses.
“OK, yes, maybe I can, but dis es highly irregular. Not dat I would put a price on my head, dhough many, many others have already done dat.” He pondered on the past for a moment, remembering a singular wanted poster he had seen in passing with his face on it. It had read he was only worth seven thousand credits! Seven! That had been absolutely uncalled-for! Hondo was worth far, far more than that!
Not to mention, the image of Cad Bane right next to his handsome mug read one million, which the pirate had found ridiculously outrageous! If anything, they were on par and deserved to be wanted - equally!
You had ignored his ramblings as you began to work your way down his neck to the split of his tunic, ever so softly pressing your lips against his unique skin. Here you placed more kisses, one after the other, as he continued to talk. However, you did not mind, as his voice alone could make your heart flutter, so musical were the notes that rose up from his larynx.
“But, as my mother always told me, son, du not look a gift fathier en de mouth,” he concluded, looking down into your eyes as if he had just realized you were still in the room.
Then, Hondo noticed you were slowly getting farther and farther away as you sank toward the floor, the Weequay’s face tilting at an angle as he studied you from beneath his distressed goggles. The villainous grin he gave you only quickened your haste, your fingers diligently working at the same time your knees found carpet, unhooking his trousers to reveal the man had gone commando.
You involuntarily gasped at the sight, having felt it through the thin fabric of his pants, but not understanding the full potential of his anatomy until you saw it for yourself.
The little sound you made had triggered the pirate; his grin only intensified. “Du not be frightened, little bird,-” he quipped, “-et does not bite.”
You hesitated a moment longer; it was stout, thick, and slightly above average, though it was ribbed in alternating patterns with the deepest grooves lining its base. You hummed a little sound of adulation before your tongue simply could not help itself; you clasped him by the hips with both hands as you prompted him forward. Using his assurance as an invitation, you painstakingly licked a stripe from the bottom of his shaft all the way to the head of his robust cock.
The pirate shuddered, exhaling a haggard, broken breath of air. “Returning tu our previous topic of conversation, as far as mouths go-”
He had not finished his sentence before you encircled the tip of the Weequay’s foreign dick with your lips, lapping up the bit of pre-cum that had leaked from the slit at its head. Your mouth stayed cinched tightly around him as you ingested nearly the whole of his phallus, your cheeks hollowing out as you worked your way back up with a very deliberate, powerful suction.
“Yours es-” He surrendered then, leaning back against your father’s ornate desk on the palm of his free hand, having hurriedly pushed his chair out of the way in the process. For someone who talked of not being in a rush, his haphazard movements had caused you to smirk, even with your mouth full.
“Mmm,” you moaned, relishing the taste of him as well as the way his eyelids had begun to close as a most pleased expression had overtaken his handsome visage. You worked in a syncopated rhythm with your tongue, keeping him on his toes, but the up-down motion continued at a steady pace as you fluidly glided over each rib and ridge.
“-es quite…” It seemed as if he were still trying to carry on a conversation, one hand occupied by priceless loot while the other had decided to almost lovingly stroke your hair. This only encouraged you, the pucker of your mouth deepening as you slathered his dick with your spit. The Weequay finally dropped the jewels back into his pocket, gazing down at you once more as you unabashedly stared into slanted, lustrous grays.
“Spectacular,” he finished, his other hand joining the first as he placed both on the back of your head with something tantamount to reverence. However you might describe it, it was gentle; he was not forcing you to go faster or deeper, his thumbs lightly caressing the base of your skull as he relaxed even more.
It was also apparent he liked to watch, even as his eyelids continued to droop, Hondo finding himself lost in the sensation of your warm, inviting mouth working his cock as if he were a tasty treat that you could eat - one enjoyed in the heat of the summer on some sticky planet, or while on vacation in the tropics of Glee Anselm.
Now fully seated on the edge of your father’s work area, a particular thought sent a spark of joy into your heart - if only he knew whose cock you were sucking in his study. The look on his face would be absolutely priceless, worth more than all those jewels you had lined the pirate’s pockets with.
Of course, should he really find out, his reaction would be extremely unfavorable. It was obvious this was happening entirely on purpose; you would not be able to come up with an excuse strong enough to save your life. You doubted your father would actually kill you, even in the throes of an anger so volatile he might tear the scoundrel limb from limb. Being his own flesh and blood had its benefits, but you would never allow any harm to come to this man, not while you were still alive.
This thought process increased your excitability, taking the time to sit up slightly on your knees so as to get a better vantage. You paused in your veneration to allow his cock to slide out of your mouth; you kissed it tenderly before your tongue flicked teasingly across its bulbous tip, taking the time to situate yourself into a more comfortable position.
The pirate had opened one eye, his breath slow and steady before it picked up again at the flutter of your tongue against the sensitive head of his cock. Hondo himself shivered, though his movements were exaggerated, the Weequay’s hand relocating itself suddenly as it came back around to snatch you by the chin.
You stifled a gasp, though his gaze was so sharp and intense that you reflexively whimpered, his voice low and licentious as he stared penetratingly into your eyes.
“Tell old Hondo what game you are playing, child.” He had murmured his demand against your lips, the pirate having hunched over near to your level. You were unable to form coherent speech, so he pressed his mouth against yours that had been left immobile. It was an act of fiery passion that before this moment you felt nothing could quite match, the gruffness of his tone having caught you off guard. It had somewhat frightened you, to tell the truth, but the feeling was quickly offset by your bolstered arousal, as if you could possibly become any more turned on.
Though he was considerably your senior, you were not a youngling, yet you took no offense, even as he was trying to demean you in some way. It was likely he still did not trust you, and you had not bothered to explain yourself or your bizarre gifts - you really could not blame him.
You forewent any elucidation and instead gathered up his girth in your hand as your fingers cinched carefully around it. You gave it a long lick in one fell swoop before intaking it back into the whole of your mouth and toward the far end of your throat. Then, you gently gathered his testes in the curve of your other hand, a warm palm massaging them with calculated enthusiasm.
Your head bobbed to-and-fro, alternating once more between up and down as you whined against Hondo’s cock, cognizant of the fact you may never get another chance at this. An almost imperceptible tremble vibrated through the Weequay’s core, it being exhibited by way of a quiver in his knees, the pirate digging his nails into your hair as those fingers still locked around your chin stayed stationary, though his thumb had begun to rub a pattern along your jawline.
“I… believe you tu be incorrect,” he stated arbitrarily, though it spurred your curiosity. “You are de one… who es… servicing me,” he informed you between ragged breaths, Hondo feeling that he was near to peaking under your expert control.
“Mn, little bird, sing for me,” he pleaded in a voice softer and more melodic than before. “Et begs de question,” he whispered, that same thumb continuing to stroke your cheek as he rocked his hips forward in time with your head’s momentum. “Tell Hondo what he has done tu deserve all dis.”
You were thoroughly enjoying yourself, nuzzling into the rogue’s affections as you made lewd slurping sounds, engorging yourself on the blissful experience of making Hondo Ohnaka squirm and fidget amidst your charms. You could tell he was close; you wondered what the cum of a Weequay tasted like, but you would not find out, as at that moment the door to your father’s study slid open to reveal one of your personal attendants, a young woman who stood with her mouth gaping open as she took in the scandalous scene.
Yet, she was one whom you had bonded with, being so bored cooped up in this house. She was about your age, and you trusted her well enough, having often confided in her your secrets and relaying to her the latest gossip from about town.
Still, it caused you to halt, jerking your head back for Hondo’s erection to vacate your throat. You wiped a drizzle of spit off on the back of your hand as you stared at her, wide-eyed.
She stared wide-eyed back as Hondo blinked indolently, coming out of a stupor that had temporarily disarmed him, so sluggish and slow was he to recover from this impromptu visit that for a moment his genitalia remained outside his trousers before you hastily thought to aid him in putting it away.
You stood as Hondo finished the job, not having said a word for once, the woman creeping forward one or two steps inside. The door closed behind her; she seemed disturbed, but also worried, finally speaking to you after she had overcome her visible shock.
“Miss! The Madam’s on the way! She’s bringing Jaina with her, and those little sandwiches!” she stated in a rush, her eyes darting to Hondo as he had finally risen to his full height, the Weequay looking out of sorts as he brushed off each sleeve of his coat in turn before joining you at your side.
“Thank you, Mara! Comm me should you see anything else!” you said, dashing behind you as the girl took a small curtsy and left just as quickly as she had arrived. Shouting at the handsome scoundrel who looked somewhat confused, yet also intrigued by the idea of sandwiches, you demanded he play along: “Quick! Pretend to look at books!”
“Pardon?” Hondo asked, nonplussed, the baffled expression intensifying as he turned to watch you dart back toward the open safe nestled in the wall.
“Pretend to look at books!” you repeated, referencing your father’s library that lined the walls with expensive and rare items printed on traditional paper.
“I would prefer tu try one of dese sandwiches dat was mentioned, or-” he paused for effect, strolling toward a bookcase regardless as he removed a volume from off the shelf. One wiry finger traced a path down its gilded spine. “-I could always go for something a little more… gourmet.”
He smiled again, having recovered rather quickly, his mood once more bright and cheerful even though he had been denied a finish to what you had started. “Aldhough, finger food also has ets place.”
You gave him a quick look, knowing exactly what he was referring to, though you were too enwrapped in your current task to be amused. Closing the safe deposit box, you reset the lock, quickly collecting the painting from where it lay against the wall to replace at just the proper angle. You stepped back to admire your work for a split second before scurrying across the room to join the rascal, taking up residence by his side.
Hondo had just cracked the volume open, doing as you had instructed, feigning interest in what was written on its pages. You quickly made some shit up in your head just as the door opened, speaking to the pirate as if you had long been settled into conversation.
“You are correct, this particular book does date back to the time of the Old Republic,” you began as the white-haired Arthurian stepped into the room along with her accomplice, a woman of lesser status who carried with her a plate full of those tiny sandwiches Mara had decided to warn you about. “As you can see, they still practiced top edge gilt, which the edges of the pages are finished in real gold along the top of the text block-”
You cut yourself off, pretending to be surprised, as Hondo himself seemed genuinely to be so. There was more to you than met the eye, your expertise on such an obscure detail catching his attention as you rounded on the woman by the name of Hilre who was once again sticking her nose in your business where you felt it did not belong.
“Madam Hilre,” you said curtly, removing the book from Hondo’s hands as you closed it and returned it to its proper place. Hondo easily allowed this, taking the opportunity to utilize his infamous charisma.
“Ah, we meet again, my good woman. And what es dis you have brought us?” He traipsed forward, plucking one of the perfectly cut sandwiches from off the plate held by Jaina, at once taking a bite and savoring its flavor. Hondo was legitimately hungry, after all. He had not had a scrap to eat since arriving at this rocky little asteroid.
“Shawda Clubb!” he exclaimed as you came forward, looking directly at the Arthurian who, as was her custom, had averted her eyes. “Et es truly delightful. De best I have ever tasted,” he emphasized, though you were unsure if he was telling the truth.
“Thank you, Hilre, but we do not require your services,” you said tersely, walking past her and around, “Mr. Orenk, allow me to show you the garden,” you lied, knowing very well what your next destination would be.
“Certainly,” Hondo acquiesced, though he held out both hands to Jaina who still carried the full tray within hers. “May I?”
To your surprise he took the entire plate, leaving your servant dumbfounded as she stood there with an odd expression, dropping her hands down to her sides. She did not comment, knowing it was not her place, but looked to Madam Hilre for guidance, which she was quick to turn and watch as you made to take your leave.
“Shall I prepare a place for Mr. Orenk for the evening? If he is waiting on your father, and since he is delayed, he is to spend the night, yes?” she asked with a hint of suspicion in her voice.
Hondo paused mid-bite and looked at you. He shrugged his shoulders minutely before fitting the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. “Yes, of course,” you agreed before hurrying out and back into the corridor with the Weequay thankfully in tow.
“Dese are quite delicious, you should try dem,” he said with a mouthful of food as you made your way back toward the turbolift at the end of the hall.
“Tu de garden, den?” he asked, licking the edges of two fingers to clean the taste of the Manpha-fowl and nuna bacon off their tips. This tiny set of movements enthralled you, so set on the image of his tongue and what it might feel like down below that you erratically searched out the button to the second floor without so much as a glance in the direction of the control panel.
“No,” you breathily exhaled, stepping forward to remove the plate from his hands just as he took up another sandwich. Hondo decided three was enough, allowing you to withdraw the tray without protest, nibbling on the end as you salaciously whispered, “now for the main course.”
The pirate’s expression morphed into an impish grin as you were now back on the same page.
“Well, et es about time.” He quickly finished his snack within the next two bites just as the door to the lift sprung open to reveal yet another hall. You placed the half-empty tray down on a nearby side table, picking up two other items: a set of solid gold candleholders. They were antiques, and worth a small fortune; you emptied them and then stuffed them inside yet another of Hondo’s many pockets.
“Ah?” he asked quite simply, though you were already dragging him down and to the left.
You were feeling frisky, and perhaps a bit more headstrong than before, wanting to defile and defy the stolen riches around you as well as your family name. To cavort with pirates, and your father’s long held enemy at that - even if the notorious scoundrel was none the wiser - had you riddled with excitable, anxious energy. Not only that, you were dying to take this man to bed, but not just any bed - the best, most luxurious bed in all your home – the one belonging to your parents.
You paused your trek, Hondo nearly bumping into you as you listened for complete silence, though he had made a sound of mild reproach. “Are we playing hide and seek?” he asked with a questioning lilt to his voice.
“Shhh,” you encouraged him - despite the scoff he gave - to be quiet for just one moment. You were sure your mother was in the lounge downstairs, sipping her expensive wine and watching holodramas for lack of anything better to do. Although it was getting late, she was known for staying up all hours, and she often slept on the sofa in her clothes.
Once sure there was no one else about, you took him to the suite at the end of the hall, shoving open one of the massive doors to reveal a room so large it may as well be an apartment in and of itself that rented for four thousand credits a month on Coruscant.
“Well, well, well!” Hondo marched past you and toward the middle of the space, forgetting immediately that he had been lightly scolded. It gave you enough time to turn over a family holo-photo that was being projected on a table by the door. “Dis bed es big enough tu fit three of me, ah?”
“One will do,” you were quick to retort, gently pushing him forward with both hands, your palms flat against the lower part of his back.
The man humored you, allowing himself to be ferried. “Yes, et es a fact you could not handle more dan one of me,” he quipped. “Dere es no shame en dat, my dear.”
He turned on you quite suddenly, a devious look that was new-to-you plastered across his angular face. It was safe to say he had caught on to why you were here, the corners of his eyes crinkling alongside the upward curve of his toothy grin.
“After yo—” His face fell, as you had already begun to walk away in the opposite direction, Hondo having been prepared to usher you where you rightfully belonged – atop sateen sheets and plush pillows. However, you had other plans, only meaning to delay your coupling a moment longer by way of marching straight toward another door.
It parted to reveal a walk-in closet of ginormous proportions, Hondo peeking his head in behind you as you stepped forward, the Weequay’s lips forming a solid “o” shape unbeknownst to you just behind your shoulder.
“Your boudoir has a… boudoir?” he asked cheekily, noting the posh clothing and accessories that were housed within. Handbags lined one wall, and hats another. There was shelving for shoes of all kinds, including those typically for men. Hondo quirked his head, not guessing you would be one to want to adorn a three-piece suit, though many hung carefully ironed and arranged on hooks.
“Ah, we lead a double life, du we?” The pirate sauntered forward, fingering the length of one of your father’s designer coats as you became busy opening various drawers and miniature cabinetry; these stylized boxes were designed to hold rings, necklaces, and things like solid gold cufflinks, or platinum tie clips – a plethora of exquisite items resided here – things that were never worn or used after their initial purchase. It was all for show, and a waste of money. You were determined to make a dent in your parent’s horde.
“It’s my father’s,” you offered with a laugh, collecting all manner of jewelry and trinkets that were pocket-sized.
“I must say, his tailor es a being of unmatched skill,” the scoundrel admitted, rather admiring the pattern sewn into the rich emerald fabric he was fawning over. You distracted him by sidling up to his hip, hands burdened with more treasure being unloaded into any empty nook or cranny you could find upon his person.
Hondo stopped to stare, encapsulating your wrist with a mild pinch of his fingers. Your eyes traveled upward progressively, coming to rest on his, so beautiful and expressive, yet now they were narrowed in apprehension as was the theme for this evening.
“And would he… approve of dis?” the Weequay asked, his voice taking on a dour quality.
You shared eye contact for a few more seconds, thinking of how you ought to kiss him again, right then and there, the far off look in your gaze being replaced by a vampish smile.
“No,” you responded plainly, sealing your answer with a frivolous giggle, marching past the knave to exit back into the main chamber of your parent’s suite.
Hondo’s own smile returned, spreading across his corrugated face like the rising of a sun at first light. He briskly followed you, commenting on your behavior. “Now I tink I am beginning tu… understand.”
You would not allow him to finish that thought, turning for your skirt to swirl around your legs as you clasped his hand, dragging Hondo toward the monstrous bed that lay positioned against the adjacent wall. It was the main feature of this elegant space, and it hardly saw any use as far as you were aware. With your mother always passing out on her chaise lounge, and your father being absent more often than not, you were sure this was the first time it would see any action since the dawn of the current decade.
“Time to finish what I started,” you bawdily suggested.
“Ap-ap-ap,” the pirate interjected, interrupting your plans when he drew you in, forcing you to spin on your heel to face him. “Now et es my turn, darling.”
He released your hand, then pushed you gently, barely exerting any force. You took a tumble right onto the bed behind you; you laughed gayly, stretching your arms out toward the pirate, suddenly overcome by a rather playful mood. “Come to me,” you whispered.
He took one step forward, and you scuttled one inch back, Hondo smirking as he drew ever closer. “Et es not I who will be coming,” he teased, “not yet, anyway,” he offered in a dry and passive tone.
You watched in awe as he crawled atop you, the Weequay repositioning his coat so its tails would not get in his way. How had you lucked out so well? You remained captivated as he slowly worked his way down, the delicious weight of his body pressing into yours as he took the time to run his lanky fingers along the curve of your jaw.
“A work of art,” he complimented, causing your cheeks to burn.
“Flatterer,” you shushed him, a hand lifting for your forefinger to skim vertically down the Weequay’s textured lips. The man took up your hand and placed a tender kiss against the back of it, coolly maneuvering your wrist to a place just above your head.
Hondo would hold you to this spot, fingers intertwined amongst yours, only gradually releasing you the farther and farther he journeyed down the span of your shapely form. Ah, but he knew you would not stray; you would not stop what was about to happen, for you had gone to such great lengths to readily seduce him.
“But I am telling de truth. Should I hold my tongue?” he asked mischievously, expecting he already knew the answer to that question. “Or, would you prefer dat I use et?” he added, the undersides of his banded fingers taking to caressing the pliable meat of your thigh.
His gilded teeth met with the fabric of your dress; Hondo hiked your skirt up, rising to gently reposition it by way of his mouth. A little shiver rode up your arms as you watched this intimate act, your anticipation only heightening every second that ticked by.
You bit your lip, chewing absentmindedly as you had become enthralled with every minute movement the pirate made, his current set being for long, lithe fingers to gingerly tug at the corners of your panties.
“May I?” he inquired, asking for your permission. He was such a gentleman, you thought.
“You needn’t ask,” you offered, words muted, heart thumping beneath a cage of bone as you witnessed the beginnings of the removal of your undergarments.
“As. I. suspected,” Hondo joked, kissing the upper portion of your leg. He would discard your underwear with a theatrical toss, the scent of your arousal engulfing his senses.
Hondo was overtaken by an immediate desire to make you beg.
Oh, he would bring you to the brink, to the edge of sanity; you would never forget his name – not that you could – remaining unparalleled and unrivaled to any subsequent lovers of yours for as long as you continued to live.
Hondo would get comfortable, splaying his legs behind himself, lying flat on his belly with a sea of brocade and crimson waving out to either flank. Then, the ne'er-do-well briefly slipped his palms beneath your buttocks as he dragged you forward, hands sliding up each curve so that two wide thumbs could press back the lips of your labia toward the narrow, inguinal groove that connected abdomen to hip; he spread you open as you watched.
You practically moaned before he ever touched you, observing the thick, broad, black muscle that unfurled from the depths of his wicked mouth to taste you. A crafty tongue traversed the breadth of your vulva, artfully slow; it meticulously lapped a line to the cusp of your clit, the foppish freebooter kicking his feet as he felt the squirm of your stomach; the tightening of tendons and sinews, all a form of nonverbal encouragement and he had barely begun.
“Hondo,” you purred deliciously; your sweet adulation of his name was almost as tasty, this single mention spurring him to enliven his pace, but not by much. He was exacting when it came to this, doling out pleasure on his terms, his flannelmouth good for more than just weaving tall tales or boasting of his misadventures.
“Yes, love?” he asked between masterful strokes, stopping to suck the pulsing pearl that craved attention, thighs quaking as your belly lurched, so close already.
The villain paused, lifting his head, helmet rising first as beady, silver eyes zeroed in on your face contorted in the near midst of passion. He grinned fiendishly as you whimpered a complaint, ragged breaths exuded from lungs which expanded and contracted in rapid pants.
“Don’t stop,” you implored him for the second time this evening, falling back to rest your head on your parent’s garish coverlet. Your fingers dug into the lavish, designer pattern as you twisted fine threads into stringent clusters inside your bunching fists. You languorously hiked a knee, letting it fall to one side as you stretched yourself wider, one hand unwinding to reach outward so that you could cup your lover’s cheek, slithering betwixt thorn-like frills to caress striated, tawny skin.
“Iiii… du not tink I heard a ‘please,’” Hondo chided, feigning to be disappointed by your manners, or lack therefore, though he was already so fond of teasing you; you writhed exceptionally well, and the soft, well-placed caress of your hand alongside his face was a nice touch, to say the least.
“Please, Hondo, please,” you urged, hips grinding subtly into the sheets below as your body ached for more.
The scamp simpered; he laughed a wry, cold laugh, Hondo taking the time to pluck two of his many golden rings off his long, spindly forefinger; they arrived in his pocket, beside all the other treasures stored there. He recalibrated his attention, once more dipping down below.
“Like music tu my ears,” he praised, voice dangerously low; words brazen. He tested you by carefully interring his ringless finger into the wet recess of your cunt, his tongue returning to its prior engagement before he had so shamelessly baited you to plead your case.
A delicate flick across your clit paired with a succinct, patient gliding back and forth against the seat of your pleasure caused your limbs to insensibly convulse without your say; the tip would coil, applying a scant amount of pressure toward that special place, your belly gasping as you released the scoundrel from your grip to claw at bits of pillowy satin.
“Yes, yes—” you uttered, voice restrained as you attempted to assuage yourself from making too much noise. You turned your head so that you might bury your face in bedding, Hondo once more lifting up to scold you.
“Ut-ut-ut! I want tu hear you, sweetheart,” the man boldly informed you, having so rudely taken his tongue away so that he could talk. You pouted like a spoiled youngling, ready to throw a fit if the Weequay would not let you cum, once more begging him to finish.
“Oh, please, Hondo— keep going,” you beseeched him in a most convincingly humble tone.
“Hmn…” the bastard uttered, rather enjoying himself by denying you your finish. “I suppose et es de least I can du, no? For all de trouble you went tu, bringing me here and filling my pockets with such handsome, valuable treasures.”
“Yes, exactly,” you agreed, though to your dismay Hondo briefly disengaged. You almost cried out for him, though he did not stray too far, only readjusting.
“Aww, my sweet…You are breaking dis old pirate’s heart,” he proclaimed, though you were not any more reassured. “Let me not keep you waiting a moment longer,” he taunted playfully, his deft thumb placing itself atop your clit to swirl so, so slowly; so, so softly.
Hondo massaged you with diligence even so, craning his neck to instead lap at your already slick sex, inserting the point of a lengthy onyx tongue between your velvet lips. He kissed you below the belt as if he were kissing another mouth; he was eager, industrious, and terribly unhurried, but it was his snail’s pace that pushed you to the verge, your imagination running wild as you had chosen to stare at the vaulted ceiling of your parent’s bedroom.
You could feel every aspect, every swipe, every inch of that roiling, dancing organ that made-out with your cunt as it probed and caressed you, your stomach jerking in that same telltale manner as he brought you to the brink.
You spoke his name, this time louder, not knowing who might be listening in, or even caring. Hondo did not bother to increase his speed; he kept things steady and on an even course; it almost drove you mad, the sound of your own blood rushing through your ears nearly drowning out the sound of your mother’s piercing shriek.
She called out to you, shocked and appalled by what she was witnessing, a bottle of some expensive, imported wine clutched firmly in her hand. You had been midway through an orgasm, so unbelievably caught off guard that your brain and body were no longer communicating.
Hondo marginally cocked his head, tongue retracting back into his mouth as he hovered above you, legs lowering to be eased back behind himself; he had taken to lightly treading air in his excitement, turning to face you as even he - for a moment - was unsure of how to behave toward this bleating woman.
“A friend of yours?” he questioned.
“Mother!” you screeched, pushing your skirt back down; Hondo made a sound that began as a thing undignified, but it quickly worsened as it turned toward a choke; you had labeled this onlooker to be none other than the matriarch of your rich family.
“What a surprise! Won’t you join—er—”
You pushed the pirate back, up and off you; at any other time, he would have been incensed, though he merely crawled onto his knees before he was able to stand and rid himself of any dust that may have collected - stereotypically - on his shoulder.
Hondo did not take into account the… sizable erection he bore, clearly visible by the raised fabric of his trousers. Clearing his throat, Hondo adjusted his coat to partially hide his heightened state of arousal; he did not necessarily mind being caught.
However, he also did not quite see the point, as he had just been discovered eating out this woman’s daughter, and in her own bed, no less. What did it matter if his cock was as hard as boa-wood?
Hondo glanced at you as you hastily tried to mask your shame, having tossed the so-far-unused comforter over yourself, though you had since rearranged your dress.
“Before you say anything—” you interposed, your parental unit having opened her mouth to hopefully do something besides scream. You stood to your feet, then brushed out the wrinkles in your clothes, “—this is Hondo Ohnaka.” You made sure to enunciate that last part.
The woman’s face fell; she strode forward. She circled about the man, taking him in as if he were a circus performer, or some kind of specimen to be studied in a science lab. Her steps were jaunty; she had all the confidence of royalty, however sloshed. Hondo trailed her with his eyes, ready to speak when she burst out laughing.
“Madam, I fail tu see what es so funny.”
Your mother pressed a finger to Ohnaka’s lips; she continued her observation as Hondo knit his brow, his beautiful eyes narrowing into deadly slits. He looked to you again as you stood, flinging his disheveled braids out over his back with an agitated cast of his head; he was not amused, impatient for you to explain yourself and why you had kept him a secret from your housemaid but not from your own flesh and blood.
“The pirate?!” she finally asked, throwing her neck back to cackle toward the cathedral ceiling, following it with another large swig of red wine.
“Ah, so you have heard of me as well,” Hondo beamed, mood predictably changing. Your mother stared at him as if he was a figment of her mind, recalling all the instances that her husband had nearly blown a blood vessel thanks to this intriguing character.
She laughed again, a dry, derisive sound, swirling to face you, bottle in tow.
“Mother, I—” She grasped you by the strap of your dress, pulling you close to her face; she smelled strongly of alcohol and expensive perfume; it was a fragrance she preferred that was harvested from Nlorna flowers.
“Anywhere but here,” she whispered, then adding, “Hilre’s lurking about the house.”
With that she released you, sashaying her hips as she left you there with another dry, sharp laugh; you fought to calm your pounding heart, once again turning to face your befuddled lover. It was clear Hondo did not appreciate your mother’s continued mockery; he had put on another sour face. You wondered if the jig was finally up, though you would still endeavor to try your luck.
“This way—” you entreated, taking his hand as you prompted him to follow you back out into the hall.
“—No!” he protested, his voice heavily punctuated by his charming Sriluurian accent. “Youuuu have kept Hondo en de dark long enough! What sort of place es dis, and what sort of person are you?” he demanded, words saturated in a smooth, dark baritone.
You forced yourself not to smile, knowing he was genuinely perturbed, though you found it absolutely delightful that you should be able to get this far in your ruse - however innocent - when Hondo was known far and wide for his wily tricks.
“I’ll tell you as we walk,” you promised, holding out your hand. Ohnaka scanned it unfavorably with his eyes before skirting it altogether, walking past you and out into the spacious corridor.
You at once caught up, keeping pace as you guided him back toward the lift. “That man you told me the story about, the one that you used to steal weapons from during the Clone Wars-” you began, pressing the button that would soon open the elevator’s Clari-crystalline doors.
“-Annnnd what of him?” Hondo asked snootily, cutting you off. He looked down his broad, button nose at you. You came to terms with the fact you wished to kiss it though putting the idea on the back burner for now.
“He’s—” You both stepped inside, Hondo wasting no time in finding a place to stand. He folded his arms as you picked whatever crazy spot you were taking him to now, it being the top, the fifth and final floor of your obscenely lavish-even-for-a-pirate’s home.
You turned to meet his gaze; it was obvious he was now very skeptical of you. “All my days—” you paused, trying to work out just where to begin, “—I grew up hearing stories about you. My father was never present in my life; I grew up to resent him, and his work,” you confessed, gliding forward to take his hand in yours once more.
“Dis does not surprise me,” Hondo vaunted, though you would not let his inflated ego detract from what you meant to relay.
“This house, this money, these clothes I wear, that jewelry in your pocket – it��s blood money. Money earned from weapons sold that causes death and heartbreak on untold planets, from the Core Worlds to the Mid Rim, and perhaps even beyond,” you elucidated, Hondo listening with rapt attention to your story.
The chime for the turbolift dinged, signaling the arrival to your destination; your room was just down the hall; the entire level was yours.
“Yes, yes, go on,” Hondo prompted, having found himself curious in what you were about to say. You had not let go of his hand, ushering him to your private quarters without any more delay.
“Even as a child it never sat well with me. I heard things, saw things. Things that disgusted me and made me ashamed, yet here I sit in the lap of luxury with nothing to show for it. But you—” You pulled Hondo forward and through your exceptionally tall doorway, kicking it closed behind you with the toe of your shoe. “You single-handedly thwarted his plans; you seized his product; you made his life a living nightmare, and for that I thank you.”
“Well, Iiii don’t know ef you would call et single-handedly—” Hondo began, but you had kissed him; the former leader of the Ohnaka gang only wished to give credit where credit was due. He supposed it could wait, his hands finding the dip in your waist to pull you close so that he might indulge you.
After a moment, he slipped back to look you in the eye, the cheekiest, most fiendish grin you had ever seen affixed to his smug mug. “So, one might say dat you have ‘daddy issues’—" his voice dropped nearly two octaves, thick like molasses, and noticeably subdued, “I should have known...”
“Your name was a constant in my household,” you breathed out. “I laughed when he cursed you; I wanted to know what it was like to be a pirate; I wanted to know you, see you. I wanted to run away and never look back, I had meant to escape this life, I—”
Hondo had taken your chin in the flexure of his palm, his thumb almost absentmindedly trailing across your bottom lip in a bittersweet caress. “—And now… daddy’s little girl es all grown up,” he concluded, it being easy for him to ascertain where all of this was going.
“Fuck me,” you pleaded earnestly and without warning, your tongue darting out to lick and suck Hondo’s thumb with somewhat sobering enthusiasm - not that Hondo was at all inebriated from those two glasses of Toniray back at the bar. He was just… surprised for the second time this evening; never in his wildest imaginings could he have predicted the way this night would fare.
“Sweet one, are you sure?” he asked in a peculiar tone, questioning your urgency. “We have been making a habit of being interrupted, et seems. Are you positive no one else es going tu come bursting en tu ruin our fun? Your… father, perhaps?” Hondo added seemingly as an afterthought, though it had been the most pertinent thing to ask.
“He won’t be home for two whole days,” you whispered, still indefatigably kissing and sucking his thumb.
“Den old Hondo will bestow upon you your greatest wish, dear child – me,” he ceded, walking you back the few steps it took him to lay you down.
When the backs of your knees hit the bed, your legs folded; you sat down swiftly, tugging on the pirate’s blood-red coat. He hastily rid himself of it – albeit with the sound of loose jewels and credits clinking against metal - you doing the same with your dress.
Your underwear was nowhere to be found, having left it on the floor of your parent’s suite. Hastily, you unfastened your brassiere, discarding it off to the side as Hondo kicked his boots off and bent down low over your retreating form.
“Perhaps you would care tu undress me?” he inquired, tone sultry and seductive as he pierced you with look that caused your loins to tingle.
“Please,” you requested, immediately going for his helmet. His eyes lifted as he watched your fingers stretch out toward his face, then vanish somewhere up above. You displaced it, setting it on the bed, Hondo’s bare head apart from his long braids now visible to the naked eye.
He grinned again, a devilish stretch of his wide mouth as he flashed dual rows of aureate and pearl; you lifted his goggles up and over his forehead by their straps, for once able to see those sloped, ash-gray irises up close.
You gasped mildly in shock; you were beguiled; his ears were pointed at their tips. You dropped his eyewear beside his helmet so that you could gingerly run your fingers along his strikingly handsome, reptilianesque face.
He bore a scar, its pigment lighter than the rest of his leathery skin, over one eye. His countenance was stark and skeletal, eyes sunken to protect them from harsh desert winds, though there were none of those on Oseon. You found you could not stop yourself from kissing him again, fondling and caressing his armored flesh; the tapered shape of his elvish ears.
Hondo had to admit that this was somewhat unexpected. He had assumed you had other ideas when it came to the removal of his clothes, but you had gone for those accessories that prevented you from being able to delve into those windows of the soul. His swoop-pilot goggles were just as much for safety as they were for forestalling others from probing too deeply; Hondo always played his cards close to the vest.
He gazed at you as if seeing you for the first time, and perhaps there was some truth to this, the Weequay’s chin lowering as he studied your pretty face in the dim light of your bedroom.
You were more beautiful than he had previously thought, and the way you were drinking him in with your thirsty eyes was distracting and disarming. It was as if he was water itself, and you were so very, very parched.
It was either that, or he now felt vulnerable, having nothing to hide behind; nothing to shield him from your scrutiny.
“I take et you… like what you see,” Hondo said sonorously, yet there was a lacquer of uncertainty in his tone.
Did you like it? Were you disappointed?
As if addressing his implicit fears, you pulled him down on top of you. “More than anything,” you whispered, excitable hands ripping at his tunic. Hondo subsequently assisted you, removing his arms from their long sleeves. As he did the rest, you redirected your energy toward the belt buckle that bore the symbol of a life since past; his Ohnaka gang was no more, but they were nothing without the man himself to lead them.
“Dat es what I like tu hear…”
He had a moment when you were unzipping his pants that he thought about your reasons for wanting him, the daughter of a weapon’s dealer scorned. Oh, how you must have despised your father, and your mother was a piece of work herself. Many times he had been as wasted as he had seen that woman; more so, yet— had she also been a lush when you were still in diapers? Had you always found yourself to be neglected? He knew something of that.
Perhaps this was to be your revenge; Hondo knew something of that too, yet he did not once feel used. And even if you were using him, far be it from him to complain.
Still, he saw genuine affection in your eyes, or was it awe? He could not blame you for desiring to copulate with him; you were not the first person to take him for a ride, but perhaps this was the first time it almost seemed funny. Funny, but endearing, nonetheless.
You had placed him on a pedestal without his knowing anything about you; he was some sort of heroic figure, or a person to look up to; a role model, though a poor one. He almost wondered if he should be doing this – almost.
Then, your warm hand was on his prick; it brought him out of his quiet meditation, a thing Hondo rarely was - quiet. The pirate pushed his trousers down off his knees and toward his ankles, kicking each pant leg loose, one by one, so that you might bask in his full-blown nakedness.
“Uhh- how old ded you say you are?” he suddenly asked, his voice holding within a modicum of trepidation; he did not take the time to do the math himself.
You laughed brightly. “Old enough,” you replied.
That was good enough for him, though he was significantly your elder. If it did not matter to you, it did not matter to him. He had no more reason to think about it, your tender lips meeting with his.
You were overtaken by desire, lifting your legs to wrap them properly around his torso. You guided him in, your free arm hooking around his neck for your human hand to clasp the back of his head as you aimed to kiss him hard and deep.
Hondo moaned against your mouth, helping to ferry himself forward; you took that part of him that was ribbed and ridged in your palm, angling your hips so that you could begin to slide it within yourself.
The man inhaled sharply through his nostrils as you inched your way down, down along his shaft until his cock was buried fully inside you. Your plush inner walls gave it a loving squeeze, Kegel muscles tightening insofar that Hondo’s whole body went rigid, the Weequay pulling away from your greedy lips.
“Mmn -- keep doing dat, and I won’t last long,” he forewarned, but you were already using your legs around him as leverage to glide back and forth across his girth – and girthy it was.
Each raised line, each groove of his phallus felt wonderful inside you. It was alien, unlike anything you had ever felt before, already close to satisfying every itch nothing else could seem to scratch.
You let out an uneven exhalation, gripping the man by the shoulders. Your eyelids fluttered as you whimpered a dulcet sound in his goblin ear, coming already from only a few strokes of him inside you.
Hondo tilted his head, having not even begun to fuck you. He thought you to be exquisite, your face twisting in pleasure without him so much as having to pump his hips.
“Wait for Hondo, no?” he teased.
You laughed shakily, though it was almost forced, still coming off your high. Finally, you opened your eyes fully to look at him; he was too perfect. Your heart ached, knowing that beyond your short time together lay uncertainty, and that you might never see him again after tonight. It was a thought you nearly could not bear.
Your eyes welled with tears; your emotions were short-circuiting. Hondo pulled back, momentarily concerned. “Darling, what es wrong? Have I done someting?” he asked.
“You’re not kissing me enough,” you lied, though sounding needy. He stared at you long and hard before bending at his waist to dip low and press his mouth to yours. You hungrily accepted it, cinching your legs around his flanks to push him deeper still.
Hondo lightly gasped before it morphed into a moan of gratitude for your healthy appetite. He was also feeling something, respecting your tenacity while also marveling at the copious amounts of attraction you felt for him.
Why, it bordered infatuation, a thing that might be considered dangerous under the right, or wrong circumstances. Still, that did not dissuade him. His ego was being fed, and fed well.
And yet, he was beginning to like you. Perhaps it was all the gifts and gold you had bestowed upon him, the fact you were not just some ignorant, rich heiress, or the fact you were rebelling in the only way you knew how – by having promiscuous sex with your father’s hated enemy. In another life, maybe he would have had you join him on his quest to rob the galaxy, yet now he was nothing more than a washed-up pirate captain without a crew.
You exalted him, and he felt somewhat humbled by it. It was a foreign feeling, like that of being satisfied. While definitely not new, per se, it was different. It was not exhilarating in the same way he had once presided over droves of men to do his bidding. No, this was like drugs, like the most potent strain of spice, or the drowsy, stupefying effects of the nastiest narcotic. For a moment, he felt lost in the sweet heat of your debauched embrace.
But Hondo would feel the damp trickle of your tears; people did many unusual things in the throes of passion, such as claiming love when there was no such thing to be found upon its finish. Still, he wondered, the underside of his thumb daring to brush those pesky drops away as his tongue remained ensconced in your tepid mouth.
So moved by the gesture, you could have cried ten times over, however humiliating, pulling away to exact your grip with the muscles of your thighs to a more readied position. Your kisses came quick, feverish, incrementally deeper, faster, as if you were a woman starved for months on end who was only now allowed to partake of the most forbidden fruit.
“Sweetheart,” Hondo lightly berated, “you have me,” he posited. “Du not rush et, hm?”
He had coerced you to slow, to follow his pace, your ardency unbidden and almost uncontrollable. You could only nod, arching your hips to settle at a more favorable angle, each languid caress of him inside you causing your toes to curl. The wet squelch of his cock thrusting into your cunt was reminiscent of the finest music, igniting your senses as if your whole body would soon burst into flames.
The dastardly being captured a pillow for his use, propping you up so that you might relax. Hondo dragged you forward until your body was folding on itself, your sex snugly bound to his groin as your back remained level on the sheets.
Powerful thighs propelled him forward as gentle hands groped yours, sliding up the smooth flesh of your legs to come to rest at the cusps of your hips. Sinewy fingers bit down, snaking around to grasp the meat of your ass as Hondo pressed his cock to the head of your cervix, careful not to push too far or to cause you pain.
“Harder,” you dared. “Deeper.”
He did not ridicule you for this; he looked up with those heavenly sky-gray eyes. One hand crawled to the curve of your middle back as he clasped you tightly, ramming you repeatedly with the alien shape of his thick, ribbed shaft.
All you could do was lie there, mouth parted to exude nothing but startled silence, pain mixed with pleasure rocking you to the very fiber of your nerve endings. Hondo would grunt generously with every precise stroke of himself inside you as your body twisted in ecstasy; he was unable to help himself as he cupped the roundness of your breast in his hand, the other still holding you partially aloft.
“Breathe, my dear,” he whispered as you started to unravel, your form jolting with every forceful push of his hips as he pinched your raised nipple. The tears returned, though it felt so right to cry, the warmth stored in your belly blossoming into elated moans as you gasped for air.
“Hondo,” was all you could think to say, “fuck, Hondo—” you repeated, perhaps louder than you meant to be.
“Dat es what I am doing,” the man above you whispered in a salacious tease.
“Hondo fucking Ohnaka,” you laughed, at once coming a fourth time that evening as you wailed to the walls, the ceiling, and anyone who might hear you, despite not knowing that indeed your housekeeper would, as she had parked herself for the last five minutes right outside your door.
“May I, darling? I can’t – hold—” he struggled to keep at it, wanting nothing more than to please you thoroughly before he himself got his. In fact, he had never asked if you had any sort of protection to ward off pregnancy, not that he wasn’t sure he had several bastards out there roaming throughout the galaxy without an inkling as to who they were, or to whom they belonged.
“Cum inside me,” you uttered coyly, batting your sultry lashes in that way only a woman knew how. Having given him permission, Hondo obliged; you gleefully held his pulsating cock in place, feeling every pump of semen enter you as you cupped your lower abdomen and pushed down on purpose, just to intensify his orgasm.
The Weequay’s eyelids fluttered as did his erection in your guts, spurts of hot ejaculate coating your insides until there was nothing left of himself to give. He pulled out, a creamy white substance dribbling down the inside of your legs, the man doing all in his power to calm his mind and regain control of his gelatinous limbs.
“I—dat was—” he began, gently releasing your lower half so that you might lie down properly. He would soon join you, bereft of energy, sprawled prostrate on his belly as he began to succumb to drowsiness. “Perhaps I could just… rest here a little while, ah?” he asked.
“My home is yours,” you whispered, cradling the Weequay’s head in your arms as your hands cushioned the sharp angles of his face. You would only leave him momentarily to clean yourself and to locate a clean towel in your personal refresher, doing your best to sop up both his and your own excess.
Once accomplished, you drew him to your bosom like a thing forever to be cherished. You tucked yourself around him like a warm blanket, never once worrying that you might get a rude awakening, though Madam Hilre had her own plans once her suspicions had been undeniably confirmed.
Still, at that moment, you were floating high above the artificial clouds of Oseon, not caring what daybreak might bring, only that you were content to lie here at Hondo Ohnaka’s side for as long as fate allowed.
---
You showered but did not dress. It was a balmy morning, and the warmth of fresh brewed caf enlivened you. Hondo would encircle you, as if lovers on a honeymoon, gathering your waist with one arm as he partook of his own beverage in the opposing hand.
Your view was of the gate below, surrounded by a lush garden that Hondo had somehow failed to notice on his way in, taking the time to rub your naked belly tenderly as he peered over your shoulder, breathing in the perfume of fresh flowers that he knew, unfortunately, were not real.
Nor was the tree that provided you with shade, just to the right of your commodious balcony. It looked real, he thought, knowing that not every planet could be so lucky as to have foliage as lustrous as Naboo, or Eriadu.
Drinking from his cup, he offered his compliments, the first thing said on this bright, beautiful day. “Delicious, as es everyting en dis house.” His upper lip perked slightly, “including you,” he added cheekily.
It was so early, and yet faithful Mara had left you a pot of caf outside your door with a timid knock. Had you not already been awake, you were sure you would have missed it, the smell having brought Hondo to consciousness some few minutes later. You were happy he had joined you, your neck craning back to grace the man with a good morning kiss, the hand not wholly occupied subtly pushing his a little lower, his fingers skirting your soft mound.
“Is that so?” you asked, Hondo entertaining your early morning lust by slipping between the folds of your labia. He spread you apart at the seam, reintroducing himself to your hypersensitive clit only to massage sumptuous little circles so masterfully it made your eyes begin to roll toward the back of your head.
“Et es.”
You tossed your mug and let it break somewhere off to the side, grasping the back of Hondo’s head as you prompted him closer to you, the Weequay’s long, black tongue delving into the deepest parts of your throat as he bent down to engulf you in his sweet embrace.
You involuntarily writhed, sharing the same breath from Hondo’s lungs as you moaned against his lips, offering him your orgasm through the impassioned furl of your tongue.
“Stay with me,” you uttered your plea softly, Hondo’s hand once more trailing up so that his fingers could wind carefully around your vulnerable throat. He swiped your bottom lip with his thumb as the rest of his fingers moved to grasp your chin. Then, he forced you to look at him as he studied your face, there being an intensity to his gaze you could not place.
He meant to speak, only he was interrupted by your servant busting through the door. She did not stop there, rushing onward to the balcony, covering her eyes for sake of modesty even though her voice rang out high-pitched and alarmed.
“Miss! Your father’s coming!” she blurted out, “Hilre caught onto who you’ve brought home!”
“What?” you turned to face her, not caring that you were naked, only fearing for Hondo’s safety and the sudden announcement Mara had made. “That fucking bitch!”
Mara dropped her hands; her eyes darted between the both of you, Hondo taking a sip from his mug as if unperturbed, thinking he perhaps still had time yet to finish his caf.
“I heard her on the comm! She knows he’s—” Her eyes widened as she had chanced to look, really look, at the Weequay who had on not a scrap of clothes “—Hondo Ohnaka!”
“So I am,” Hondo said offhand with a playful grin.
“How far out is he?” you demanded, wondering what else she may have overheard, ignoring the Weequay who was at the heart of your concern.
“Don’t know, miss, but—”
There was a sound like that of a single blaster shot. Hondo’s mug shattered in his hand. “Uh—”
All three of you turned to look; your father’s personal guard was on the lawn, gazing up at you five stories high.
“Fuck,” you whispered.
“Indeed,” Hondo replied, dropping the handle to the ground; it was all that remained, the men below belting out curses and obscenities as they began to rush inside.
“You have to go!” you urged him. Hondo seemed to agree, flying past you and your dutiful maid to gather first his trousers, and then his tunic from off your floor.
“Mara!” you ordered, “belay them; turn off power to the lift!”
“Yes, miss!” she replied, giving a curt nod of her head. She was out the door in seconds; you thought this woman deserved a raise for all she had to go through on your behalf.
Someone screamed your name; you darted to the balcony once more, Hondo having already adorned his helmet, his goggles, and his crimson coat.
Your father and several of his hired goons stared up at you, his jaw having dropped to the ground. In your haste, you had forgotten you were in the buff, the man yelling so pointedly you thought he might give himself an aneurysm. “Is he in there with you?!” he demanded, followed by a furious, “put some damn clothes on, for fuck’s sake!”
He did not wait for an answer, stampeding into the house with an entourage of four other men. Hondo had slipped on his boots in the nick of time, witnessing the tail end of your father’s heated outburst. His duster jingled with every movement, full of the treasure you had so kindly conferred to his possession, silver eyes sparkling in the light of this asteroid’s star.
“Go north,” you instructed him, firmly clasping his cheek in the crook of your palm. “Docking Bay seventy-seven, there is a ship there. It should be unlocked.” Your eyes brimmed, knowing this might be the last and only time you ever saw him. “Take it, hurry,” you implored him, Hondo giving you his most stunning smile.
“Ah, a double-seven! What a lucky number, ah?” Then, he paused. “I will never forget you,” he promised, jumping with surprising agility on top of the nearby banister as if it was nothing at all; the railing was fashioned from pure, Durosian marble and quite elegant, though it also served its purpose as a step stool.
This is when Hondo felt truly alive: laden with gold, jewels, credits, and escaping with his life and dignity intact. He looked over his shoulder when he heard you shout; you were doing your utmost to distract and delay your father’s guards just as the man himself stormed into the room.
You had common sense enough to grab a robe that had been previously discarded over the high-backed chair of your vanity, tossing it on to clothe yourself, only if so your father’s thugs couldn’t get an eyeful any more than they already had. Then, you heard your own last name; Hondo was calling out to your father from his perch in a nearby tree, the brigand holding on with one hand as he dared to give him a mock salute. It was a gesture that was almost friendly, the scalawag unable to miss out on his chance to gloat.
“Another ting I have stolen from you, ah?” Hondo asked cockily. “Your peace of mind, and your daughter’s heart.” In that moment, the newly risen sun caused a plethora of gems, jewels, crystals and gold to gleam, light refracting radiantly with as many colors as a Kallakean rainbow from out the numerous pockets of Hondo’s stolen coat.
“Filthy Quay!” you father bellowed.
Hondo blew in your direction one final kiss.
“No!” you screeched as your patriarch withdrew his pistol in a fit of unbridled rage. You shoved him as hard as your strength permitted, guards scurrying valiantly to surround you on all sides as others fired aimlessly at the now vacant spot on which Hondo had hung like a Kowakian monkey-lizard from off a single branch.
Burly men held your arms as you gazed after the retreating form of your audacious lover, your heart beating fervently in your chest with the joyous knowledge he had escaped unscathed to live and fight another day. You could not help it; you laughed without reserve. To simultaneously scorn your father and fall from his favor had been an easy feat. But no matter what was to become of you, you would be content, because it had all been worth it in the end.
Main Masterlist
Hondo Ohnaka Masterlist
#Hondo Ohnaka#Hondo Ohnaka x Reader#Hondo x Reader#Hondo Ohnaka x You#x you#x reader#star wars smut#pwp#Star Wars#Clone Wars#Star Wars Rebels#Pirate's Price did something to me#Cad Bane mention because I could not help myself.#Yes there is a library in there somewhere#sorry not sorry#oneshot turned into a novel#my writing#fanfiction#sooooo much plot
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I don’t I’ve heard your opinion about Ventress, what do you think about her?
I actually got asked about Ventress a few months ago, HERE is my answer.
TL;DR I'm fairly neutral on Ventress, I don't love her, I don't hate her. I don't have much to say on her which is why I don't talk about her on here much. My strongest opinion on her is that I just don't particularly love the concept of a relationship between her and Quinlan Vos.
In terms of her recent appearance on TBB, I think it was kind-of pointless. There wasn't anything particularly meaningful added by it being Ventress who showed up to test Omega, it didn't really grow Ventress or the others as characters much, and it turns out Omega isn't even Force sensitive anyway. Fennec could've just as easily sold them one of the blood tester things that Cad Bane used and it would've made more sense than throwing Ventress into the mix.
I think Ventress is somewhat underutilized, I wish she got brought in more on more meaningful stories where she gets to actually get developed as a character and explored as a survivor of a genocide herself and someone who's very morally ambiguous with a fairly interesting mix of backgrounds. There's tons of interesting stuff there between her Nightsister background, her Jedi training, and her Sith training to pull on, and they just... never really do. So ultimately I just find her a little boring.
#star wars#asajj ventress#seriously we've had two different stories have nightsister elements and ventress didn't show up in either one#jedi fallen order makes a big deal out of merrin being the last of her kind and yet ventress is apparently out there still#the ahsoka show brought in nightsisters and utilized morgan instead of ventress#but they tossed her onto the fake clone show to tell us one of our fake clones isn't actually force sensitive#wonderful use of her character obviously
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Emerie Karr essay
okay so this is going to be about 50/50 hemlock and her relationship and a full defense essay because if I hear one more thing about how terrible she is because she works with hemlock and told him that omega was a match for the m-count replication I will be giving a speech on it.
but at the same time the same person who says this is consistently defending saw gerrera who goes in the same category as cad bane for me amazing episodes but I genuinely have never felt the amount of rage I do when they are in an episode any other time and I am getting better with cad bane but saw gerrera
part 2
#emerie karr#star wars#the bad batch#tbb#tbb spoilers#tbb omega#the bad batch spoilers#tbb hemlock#saw gerrera#don’t come for me#this is in fact my opinion and I respect your opinion#Unless you don’t like Emerie because Emerie didn’t do anything wrong
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The Endless Cycle: In Defense of the "Filler" Episodes in "The Bad Batch"
I'm up to the the half way point of season 2 of the Bad Batch and there's something I've noticed about the filler episodes: there's actually a point them. The Batch doesn't simply "do." Whether immediate or later down the line, the "filler" episodes do have a point even if we an all agree they're not the best. I remember first watching and being like, "where's the plot" and "when can we get back to Crosshair?" And I'll admit, I did prefer the episodes where there was something more impactful happening. However, the more filler-y episodes weren't pointless either. The biggest difference between season 1 "filler" and season 2 is that season 1 sets up arcs and other characters while season 2 "filler" has more emphasis on the Batch themselves. The "filler" episodes make up what I call the survival arc in which the Batch must learn how to make a living for themselves.
Season 1
Ep. 4 "Cornered"- this is the episode where we meet Fennec Shand. Fennec is a part of the bounty hunter arc. Although there doesn't seem like much happening other than Omega getting chased, this episode sets up future conflict. The Batch now has to keep Omega safe from bounty hunters who are after her.
Ep. 5 "Rampage"- like the previous episode, this episode serves as a means to progress the bounty hunter arc. It is also the first time we see the boys work for Cid. Although it seems like a pointless episode, there is a point. The Batch go on a mission and in turn, Cid gives them the information on Fennec. Fennec was established in the previous episode as an antagonist.
Ep. 6 "Decommissioned"- in this episode, we learn about Rex's involvement in the show. Although the majority of the episode is just a mission for Cid, the end gives us a hint of what's to come. Rex is crucial for the Batch's understanding of the chip. This culminates in the events of episodes 7 and 8.
Ep. 13 "Infested"- this furthers the Batch's relationship with Cid. But other than that, this is the only episode I'd truly call filler.
Season 2
Ep. 4 "Faster"- Tech finally gets the spotlight. Not only do we see more of how clever he truly is, but Tech gets recognized and appreciated for it. It's a fun episode that lets us know Tech more. There is also an interesting contrast between Tech, a human who talks more like a droid at times, and TAY-0, a droid who talks more like a human. However, Tech is human and it's what makes him smarter than a droid at the end of the day.
Ep. 5 "Entombed"- another fun episode where we see more of Phee and her dynamic with the Batch. Two things I noticed: Omega tends to mimic others she finds cool or role models to her and how tired Hunter is. As my cousin pointed out, this episode solidifies the fact that the Batch is just going through the motions at this rate.
Ep. 6 "Tribe"- this episode is the foundation of what Pabu later solidifies: the Batch, Hunter in particular, being tired of constantly doing missions and wanting to find their own place to raise Omega. Gungi is separated from his home because of Order 66 so the Batch decide to help him. Through their interactions, Hunter pays attention to Omega and realizes that she deserves to be a kid, not a soldier.
These "filler" episodes take the Batch through an arc across the seasons. In the beginning, it was their means of survival. Not only could they use those missions as a way to get info, but it was a means to get money for food and repairs. In season 1, they were so eager to do what they could in order earn their keep. But as the Empire's grip began to tighten around them, that attitude slowly began to change. We see it in the form of Hunter's tiredness and frustration. By season 2, it feels like the boys and Omega are just going through the motions: need to live, go on mission, get money, rinse and repeat. This is no life for Omega and Hunter realizes that. While life as mercenaries might fit some like Cad Bane or Fennec, it clearly doesn't suit the Batch longterm. They want something more. Echo in particular realized that this was not the life for him or this brothers.
Echo as a character is very interesting even if he unfortunately doesn't get much to do. In the Clone Wars, he was part of Domino Squad who were sort of a Bad Batch themselves. Following orders as a cadet was Echo's thing; it was what earned him his name. However, there is more to Echo than just being a rule follower. Echo is very loyal and sticks to his beliefs firmly. He's kinda like Cross in that aspect. After losing Domino Squad, he only had Fives left. Fives, similarly, is someone who has a set of values that he sticks to without fault. I think they both inspired one another to be honest. Echo is then lost at the Citadel and turned into a cyborg. Fortunately, he is rescued by Rex, Anakin, and the Batch. Despite his suffering, Echo never lost his fighting spirit. I firmly believe that Echo feels indebted as a result of his rescue and second chance. He sees the Batch as a chance for a new life and to help others the way they helped him. When he chooses to off with Rex, it is to further his goal of helping others. Whenever Echo talks to Hunter, it's usually about what the Batch could be doing. Echo has a very solid set of moral values. He longs to give others a second chance at a better life. He was given that chance and he won't waste it. This is why I think he leaves in the second season. The Batch have been stuck in an endless of cycle of mission-payment. There's no greater good being fulfilled, only survival. Echo is tired of sitting around and doing nothing; he needs to find his own path. He's getting worn out. So, when Rex comes along and asks for Echo and the Batch's help, Echo makes a choice to fulfill what he needs to do. He's going to give others a second chance make a difference.
Then there's Hunter. Hunter spends the first half of season 2 in what I call "tired dad mode." Like the rest, this man is going through the motions and it's slowly eating at him. Was this the life he or his brothers were promised? No. Hunter is supposed to be the leader and look where the Batch is now. And then there's Omega. Hunter imprinted on her. That's his kid, the reason he wakes up each morning, and you can't argue otherwise. No one is going to get between them without a fight. But Hunter knows too well that war and a life as a mercenary isn't what Omega needs. She needs somewhere safe to grow up and be a kid. The clones never had a choice, but now, they do. The episode "Tribe," is a foreshadow to Pabu in my opinion. The Batch get a small taste of domesticity and they like it. More importantly, Hunter likes it. He realizes this is exactly what Omega needs.
In contrast to Hunter's tiredness is Omega. While the filler episodes show us just how the rest of the Batch is tired of this endless cycle, it has the opposite affect on our girl. Omega has never been outside Tipoca City until the Batch rescued her and adopted her. The filler episodes, which see the Batch on various adventures, let Omega explore worlds and things she's never seen before. Her wonderment always amazes me. It emphasizes her role as the heart of the Batch even more. The filler also lets Omega learn lessons about life and teach others as well. Twice, she convinces her brothers to help Cid because Cid helped them. Omega's personality is a complete 180 from the Batch but that's not a bad thing. She gives her brothers a new perspective just as they give her one. However, there needs to be a balance in life. Omega is still learning and growing. She may love all the crazy adventures and what they might teach her, but that also brings the inherent risk of danger. She needs to be allowed to be a kid. This is why Pabu and the events of "Tribe" are so important to Omega's growth. She may prefer adventure, but knowing life without worrying about one's survival is equally crucial. Omega still has a lot to learn, but her spunky energy and love for life will take her far.
With Wrecker and Tech, it's a bit different since they both kinda just float along with the rest of the group. They both are tired of the same old but don't have strong reservations the way Hunter or Echo do. Wrecker at the end of the day just wants to live happily with his family and blow things up. The missions give him fun things to do; there's never a boring moment when things go awry. Wrecker is more a less a child. But he knows when something is serious and can handle it with maturity. Where Crosshair struggles to open up and keeps his feelings buried, Wrecker is an open book. His "go with the flow" attitude is similar to Omega and makes missions more bearable. Tech, on the other hand, is more irritable. Being the logical one, he understands why the Batch continues doing what they do. However, his tone of voice and casual quips reveal that he too is done with everything. He needs to break out of the cycle. This isn't working anymore. Tech is someone who always goes for what's most strategic and to quote Mori from Bungou Stray Dogs, "the optimal solution." Need more speed? Just drop the weapons. Gonna go racing? Study the track beforehand. Even in season 1, he does what's needed to be done in order to continue surviving. He doesn't visibly show that he is tired; he does it through his words. Tech and Wrecker seek to continue on living and keeping their family safe. They don't feel the need to do more like Echo or have to lead like Hunter. That's the difference. Because Tech and Wrecker don't carry a heavy burden the way Echo and Hunter do, they drift along and it's gradually getting to them.
To summarize after such a long post:
The filler episodes drive the plot along by introducing certain ideas and characters. However, they also represent the endless loop of going through the motions. Mercenaries isn't the life the Batch should be living but are stuck in because they have no choice. Echo longs for more, Hunter is tired, Omega enjoys them for the adventure they bring her, and Tech and Wrecker go along with it because what else can they do?
That's my analysis on the Batch and filler episodes. I'm sure I'll have more to say, specifically Tech and Crosshair related in the future. Anyways, take care.
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Assorted Krayt's Claw headcanons because I guess that's gonna be my niche now
How they formed:
Krayt's Claw was formed shortly after Boba Fett and Bossk broke out of the Republic Judiciary Detention Center. Feeling bitter about being left behind by Aurra Sing on Florrum and believing in strength in numbers, Boba pitched the idea to Bossk, who agreed to see what he could do with his contacts in the underworld. They first tried to sell the idea to fellow escapee Cad Bane, but he wasn't interested.
The first official member was Latts Razzi, who had fallen under hard times and needed some credits to afford her lavish lifestyle. At first she only considered signing on for a few jobs, but eventually decided to become a full-timer after warming up to the team.
Dengar joined shortly after. Already a successful bounty hunter during the Clone Wars, he saw something in the young Fett that convinced him this enterprise may be worth his while. He and Bossk knew each other from before, and kept a friendly rivalry of sorts going on. Dengar was only a part-timer however, as he was also an aspiring swoop racing champion.
C-21 Highsinger was the last to join the original ensemble. A prototype, one-of-a-kind Hunter-Killer, he went rogue and struck out on his own for motives unknown. One day Boba walked into their base with the towering droid in tow and introduced it as "Highsinger". No one knew how he had convinced that monster that sticking around would be worth its while, but they knew better than to ask questions.
Embo had been in talks to join the team for a while after being approached by Latts, but he only became an official member after Boba Fett vanquished Cad Bane during the last months of the war. He got along surprisingly well, and added a nice bit of street cred to the group.
Oked was only a hired goon brought in for the Quarxite job. He was not mourned nor missed.
Random shit I came up with:
Marrok, Embo's pet anooba, is the unofficial team mascot. Everyone finds themselves doting on the fluffy space dog, and even the impassible Highsinger allows it to rub against his leg. That being said, it has a habit of growling at Dengar whenever he says something stupid, which happens quite frequently.
Bossk's ship, the Hound's Tooth, was their only vehicle for some time. The first few rides were full of nothing but complaining about the smell and unfriendly atmosphere while the lizard silently seethed. It took a lot of convincing for Boba to finally agree to let them use the recently-reclaimed Slave I as their vehicle. Embo never flies with the group, instead using his personal transport, the Guillotine, for every mission. Just about everyone resents him for that fact.
Latts and Dengar are the fashionistas of the group, and tend to suggest outfit changes to the other hunters, a proposition that is rarely accepted. They occasionally rate their co-workers' choice in clothing; Embo has the best look by far, Boba's placing went up by a significant margin after he began sporting his father's Mandalorian armor, and Bossk has been the worst-dressed Trandoshan in Tatooine for a few consecutive years now.
Only Latts can wield her grappling boa scarf effectively, and at many points everyone has tried to employ it in some capacity at least once. None succeeded. How she does it is a mystery.
Dengar once introduced Manaroo, while the two were early into their relationship, to the rest of the team. The fact the poor Aruzan survived three hours of being intimidated by some of the galaxy's meanest-looking bounty hunters confirmed to Dengar that she was the one. They've been married happily since. I don't care what the sequels say.
During a mission to Coruscant, Highsinger inexplicably disappeared with no one knowing where he went. While the rest of the team wanted to leave him behind and get going, Boba demanded they at least try to look for him. He was eventually found at the Droid Spa, enjoying a relaxing oil bath as two beautiful androids scrubbed his joints clean of any grime. To say they were all pissed would be the understatement of the millennium.
After Boba regained his armor and bested Cad Bane in a duel, the following group dinner was filled with everyone taking turns to talk about how much they didn't like the blue cowboy. Whether they were trying to warm up to the new boss or maybe let loose some steam, no one knows.
Krayt's Claw eventually disbanded after Boba came of age and began taking solo jobs, though he remained in contact with most of the team and kept tabs on what they were up to. Nothing was known of Latts' whereabouts after she started her syndicate, however.
#star wars the clone wars#star wars#the clone wars#star wars headcanons#tcw#krayt's claw#boba fett#bossk#latts razzi#dengar#c-21 highsinger#embo#marrok#cad bane#manaroo#my little rag-tag bunch of misfits
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Blood On The Ice
Chapter One: Muun Nynir
Characters: Sabine Wren, Shin Hati, Ahsoka Tano, Ezra Bridger, Tristan Wren, CT-7567 | Rex, CC-5576-39 | Gregor, CT-6116 | Kix,Bo-Katan Kryze, Koska Reeves, Axe Woves, Paz Vizsla, Trilla Suduri | Second Sister, Reva Sevander | Third Sister, Grand Inquisitor (Star Wars), Baylan Skoll, Hera Syndulla, Morgan Elsbeth, Fifth Brother (Star Wars)
Relationships: Shin Hati/Sabine Wren, Alrich Wren/Ursa Wren, Ezra Bridger/Tristan Wren, C1-10P | Chopper/Marrok, Hera Syndulla/Ahsoka Tano, The Armorer (The Mandalorian TV)/Bo-Katan Kryze, Reva Sevander | Third Sister/Trilla Suduri | Second Sister, Shin Hati & Baylan Skoll, Ezra Bridger & Ahsoka Tano & Sabine Wren, Alrich Wren & Sabine Wren & Tristan Wren & Ursa Wren
Tags: Alternate Universe - Hockey, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Injury, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Build, Hockey Fights, Hockey Injuries
AO3 Link: Here!
Word Count: 3,125
Notes: It's finally here! I've been working on this one chapter for the last two months! Gosh, so happy to get here right now!
So some things to note, this series will take place across 3 acts, with a currently undefined chapter count on all, with obviously as seen in the series, some loose snippets floating around.
This world was built by @thegirlsinthecity and myself, and while neither of us know everything about hockey, I think it's more about the fun we had putting this together over exact accuracy. (And yes, there are plans to return and update tags soon)
So just some basic team lineups so it isn't all lost (And yes, more will be added slowly as I expand on the lines)
Lothal Spectres:
Sabine Wren, #5, Right Wing, Two-Way Forward
Ahsoka Tano, #32, Center, Playmaker
Ezra Bridger, #6, Left Wing, Grinder
Tristan Wren, #60, Right Defense, Offensive
Rex Fett, #51, Left Defense, Enforcer
Gregor Fett, #39, Goalie, Hybrid
Kix Fett, Team Medic
Axe Woves, #17, Right Wing, Sniper
Koska Reeves, #29, Left Wing, Playmaker
Bo-Katan Kryze, #42, Center, Grinder
Chopper: #00 Mascot
Hera Syndulla, Coach/Owner
Mercenaries:
Shin Hati, #64, Left Wing, Enforcer
Baylan Skoll, #87, Center, Playmaker
Reva Sevander, #66, Right Wing, Two-Way
Fifth Brother, #23, Right Defense, Offensive
Trilla Suduri, #74, Left Defense, Enforcer
Grant Inquisitor, #85, Goalie, Standup
Cad Bane, #32, Center, Grinder
Boba Fett, #1, Right Defense, Two-way
Fennec Shand, #9, Left Defense, Enforcer
Aurra Sing, #48, Right Wing, Playmaker
Bossk, #54, Left Wing, Sniper
Marrok, #26, Mascot
Morgan Elsbeth, Owner
“You ready to get back out there, Sabine?” Ahsoka called from the other side of the locker room, securing her lekku in the padding so they wouldn’t risk injury or swing about and hurt someone.
Sabine looked up from the yellow and blue jersey in her hands, the Firebird emblazoned on the chest, and the number five stamped across the back and shoulders.
“You’ll figure it out, verd’ika,” Bo-Katan’s hand was heavy on her shoulder, warmth seeping through the thick shoulder pads as the older Mandalorian dropped to her side. “Shoot straight, don’t get hit. Rules haven’t changed on your way up to the big leagues.”
“But you need to be mindful of everyone on the ice,” Ahsoka cut the redhead off with a shake of her head as she settled on Sabine’s other side. “The Mercenaries are… better equipped than us. They’ve also had more time to train their rookie,”
“Run that one by me again?” The younger woman shrugged off Bo’s hand to tug the jersey over her head, brushing her fingers through her hair to fix it once the material was settled over all the padding.
“Shin Hati, some kind of college star, Merc’s Captain, Baylan Skoll, has been training her since she was a kid, I guess.” Sabine scoffed at the mention. Some kid whose connections got them the job, typical.
“Don’t underestimate your opponent, Sabine.” Ahsoka reprimanded gently as she started to lace up her skates. “Hati made a name for themselves in the pre-season, a dangerous one at that. You’ll need to keep your head out there.”
“Ahsoka, if anyone can keep their head out there, it’s Sabine,” Bo stood to her defense immediately, bringing a small smile to the younger Mandalorian’s lips. “You just gotta trust her, and also, hurry up. Clock’s ticking-” The redhead motioned to the loudspeaker announcing their time left before they needed to make their first appearance on the ice.
Grabbing her helmet, Bo offered Sabine one last look of mild sympathy. “You’ll be alright, ad’ika. Your aliit is with you,”
Trilla and Reva were laughing. The first game of the full season, and they were sitting there laughing. Shin was trying their best not to give them a moment of their time as she adjusted the light away uniform on her body, making sure the padding was covered and everything fell perfectly.
Stepping out into the hallway, Shin was greeted by Baylan exiting the men’s locker room as well. Their head dipped in a silent greeting as he fixed the chin straps of his helmet. “The Spectres have had a roster change since we last faced them,” He informed them as a greeting as they made their way down the hall towards the tunnels where the pounding feet and heavy bass made it hard to hear him properly.
Taking the sticks as they were handed out by Morgan who was working her way down the line of their emerging teammates, Baylan rested his hands on the top. “Their newest addition, Sabine Wren; has countless connections to many on the team, including her little brothers, Tristan Wren, and Ezra Bridger. Keep an eye on her, but be mindful of the positions on the ice.”
“Of course,” Shin nodded, silvery eyes glancing through the doors to catch the shining lights all over the yellow and blue arena. Lothal. If they never had to come back, it would be too soon.
There was no meeting or chant, nothing said between the players as the clock ticked by; not like the teams Shin had played for in college, which she was grateful for, really, the team bonding thing just wasn’t their vibe, and this team respected that quality in them all, but there may have been some part of them that itched at the lack of any acknowledgment from Morgan, who’s career counted on their wins.
The speakers thundered in their ears as the doors were pulled open to the ice. “Everybody welcome to the ice, your Lothal Spectres!” It was an older man on the intercom, someone who sounded as if he genuinely loved his job, like everyone at this blasted arena. The cheering grew tenfold as skates hit the ice. From behind Baylan, Shin could see the flashes of blue and yellow on the rink as the players took a lap.
“And your opponents for tonight, the Seatos Mercenaries!” Balanced on his blades, Baylan led their line down the tunnel. There wasn’t a big fanbase willing to travel across the galaxy to watch them. Still, they had a handful of devoted regulars reaching their hands into the tunnels, as well as some children and Spectres fans who didn’t seem to care, as long as somebody acknowledged them.
Shin paid none of them any mind, ducking out of the way of reaching hands, even as Baylan offered a tap of his glove into each one. The crushing feeling of anxiety melted the minute her skates touched the ice and she was allowed to break away. The music and screaming were still deafening, but now they had their favorite distraction in the form of muscles burning and the cool air in her face
“Well kid, there they are.” Bo-Katan called as she zipped past, sinking a puck into the empty net while Gregor caught up on his stretches to the side. “They’ve been calling ‘em Wolves, Kurs’kadedse.” Sparing a look to the opposing side of the ice, Sabine caught a pair of silver eyes locked onto her, eyes that continued to stare even as the Mandalorians caught them.
“That’s the one we were warning you about, Hati.”
“What the krif is she looking at?” Sabine huffed as she passed a puck between her skates before sending it flying towards the net, hitting the post before bouncing right into the netting.
Bo-Katan’s gaze drifted back to the ever-present stare on the other side of the ice. “I don’t know, but girl; please blink.” The redhead shook her head and turned her attention to the filling stands around them. “Seriously, I don’t think she’s blinked this entire time; could be something to use to our advantage.” The older Mandalorian clapped Sabine on the shoulder before taking off to the glass by their box to flick pucks over for the group of kids gathered on the other side.
Sabine dared one last glance back towards the Mercenaries side before shaking her head, she could deal with a little staring for be’gotal’ad sake, you didn’t look like she did and did not get used to all kinds of stares, this creepy… animalistic stare was nothing… Everything was fine….
Through the entire anthem, Sabine could feel the icy stare, determinedly, the Mandalorian focused on the ice, etching a groove with her skates as the anthem pulled to a close.
“So, she’s got some kind of staring problem,” Tristan was quick to announce, making Ezra laugh and nod his head.
“Yeah seriously, ‘bine, you’d think you personally went over there and insulted her mother, she didn’t look away from you once.” Ezra crossed his arms over his chest, the tip of his colorfully taped stick pressing under his chin and against the strap. “Be careful… Something feels off about them.”
“Seriously guys, I’ll be fine, it’s only the first game. I seriously doubt anyone will be out for blood,” Sabine shook off their worry with a dismissive wave of her hand as she glided to start.
Sabine didn’t have a chance to give the wolf on the ice much more of a single thought once they returned; The eyes on her were in the back of her mind the second the puck had dropped at center ice. Besides, she had plenty enough eyes on her the second she’d taken control of the puck and sank it right past the Inquisitor’s glove, sailing past his shoulder and smacking into the goalpost before finding a home in the white netting as the horns blared not even thirty seconds into the game.
Tristan was the first one on her, arms tight around his older sister as the rest of the team crowded her against the boards in celebration. The crowd was screaming, though it was dulled by the beating of her heart in her ears. “I knew you could do it!” Ezra shouted in her ear as Ahsoka’s hand pressed against the top of her helmet. Even Rex offered the Mandalorian a proud punch to the shoulder before finally allowing her some room.
The eyes on her from the other bench were deadly and predatory, as Sabine glided past, she watched a short woman leaning over the wall to talk to psycho-eyes. It was… disconcerting, but really, not her problem. As Sabine rolled into her first shift, Hera’s hand clamped down on her shoulder proudly. “That was a good run, we’re gonna send you on the next shift, watch for Bo-Katan’s signal.”
“Got it!” Sabine called over the roar of fans in the stadium, offering a smirk towards the camera when she glanced to the screens to see her name flashing on the humongotron, progressing to full laughter at the increase in noise from the crowd, before the cameras flipped back to the game.
“They love you, ‘bine!” Ezra called as he hopped the board, letting his shoulder bump into hers as he grabbed a bottle of water, nearly missing entirely when he squeezed the thin plastic to squirt it into his mouth.
Rex jumped over the boards then, smacking his gloved hand into Ezra’s hand for good measure. Sabine couldn’t hear his comment, but Ezra flipped him off anyway as the old timer went into the frey, catching Suduri in a hit that sent the behemoth of an enforcer to the ground.
There was a flash of the mirrored tint from Bo-Katan’s helmet as she turned her head towards the bench. There was no other signal to be sent her way, but as Wedge glided to the bench, she knew it was her time to jump back in.
Almost immediately, the Wolf was back on the ice, shifting as Sabine was crossing the neutral zone. Their head lowered, shoulders tilting forward as they streaked down middle ice. Sabine caught the puck as it was shot to her, clear for the moment in the breakaway. The puck smacked off the hook of her stick, pulling it in close to her body as she stuck to the wall. The wolf was gaining ground on her, fast.
Golden eyes flashed across the ice. Ezra was almost clear… If he could just catch her gaze; Blue met gold, the puck soared across the ice, missing gloves and sicks as it went. It hit the edge of his skate as he broke away from the towering defense. Sabine didn’t get to see what he did with the puck, catching a heavily padded shoulder square in the chest that sent her down to the ice.
“Learn to take a hit,” Her attacker growled from above as the play was called dead. One of the linesmen pulled to the wolf as Tristan rushed over to help her up. As the penalty animation played on screen and zoomed in on the wolf for roughing, Sabine could swear she saw a flash of teeth as the Keldorian ref pulled her to the box.
“Gotal’ad, verd’ika!” Bo-Katan exclaimed as she pulled to Sabine’s other side, gloved hand pressing into her back and fixing the bright jersey. “What did you do to them?”
“Literally nothing!” The purple haired woman groaned dramatically, shaking out muscles they knew would be overly sore the next day. “She’s fucking insane!.”
“It was a valid hit though, little Wren,” Rex called as he pulled into the circle, shrugging his shoulder nonchalantly as the Mercenaries penalty killers lined up.
“Shut up, old man,” Sabine grumbled as she settled in.
The ref dropped the puck, backing out of the two spitfires that were Bo-Katan Kryze and third-line center, Moff Gideon. Shoulders smashed together, skates scratched into ice, and sticks smacked into each other, until at last, Bo managed to kick the puck free, passing it to Ezra, who swung it across to Koska, then Axe. As the Spectre’s raced down the ice to take advantage of the five-on-four, the Mercenaries fought like hell to stop the assault.
Sabine was streaking up the middle with Reva on her tail, pushing her closer and closer to the boards. Reva was bigger, but Sabine was faster, pushing the puck between her skates every time a black and red taped stick reached across to poke the puck from her unrelenting control. Rex pulled in next, pushing his way between the offensive right defense and the two-way forward.
Getting Reva off her back was everything Sabine needed as she pulled into the Goalie’s space, Axe swinging around the left side goalpost to screen the Inquisitor, taking that half a second of attention away from her as she kicked the puck from where it sat between her feet. The windup was fast, sending the puck flying from the toe of her stick.
The Inquisitor dropped into a butterfly, but it was too late, the puck sailed past the closing edges of his pads and sank into the net, the loud goal horn echoing through the arena, quickly drowned out by the explosion of cheers from the crowd as Sabine’s arms went up into the air. “Yes! That’s how you get it done!” She shouted, her voice unheard with all the noise.
Gleaming golden eyes turned to the crowd as Bo-Katan slammed into her, arms wrapping around her as Axe, Koska, Tristan, and Paz all joined in, almost slamming their huddle into the boards in their celebration. The only thing that altered the high of her joy was the heavy weight of predatory eyes, their weight intensifying as the Mercenaries winger was released from the penalty box.
Eleven minutes left in the period, Spectres up by two, the crowd was electric, and Sabine’s heart was thumping comfortably in her chest, each time she glanced back at Hera, the beaming smile only made her light up more. As they pulled back to center ice, Sabine spared one last glance at the crowd, lips twisting when she caught sight of Ursa’s familiar yellow and grey coat in the stadium’s loudville level, phone raised, no doubt zoomed in to catch her kids on the ice.
“Tristan!” She called as he came into his position at her right. “Buir is taking a picture, stop looking dumb,” This earned a barking laugh from him as Ezra and Koska switched out.
“Yeah yeah, don’t hog all the limelight, ‘bine!”
A growl from the opposing side had Sabine looking away from her brother. “You got a problem, kurs’kaded?” Sabine shot to the enforcer that sat on the other side of the blue line. The blonde only sneered and settled in, shoulders hunched forward and silver eyes breaking away from Sabine for probably the first time all day. “That’s what I thought,”
The next break came with a renowned intensity. Whatever the small coach on the Mercenaries lines said must have been particularly seething, with each forward all but bowling the spectre line over the moment the puck dropped.
The puck was passed between wolf, to Sudari, Sevander, Skoll, then wolf again. Hera signalled for Sabine to shift, though it went ignored as the young Mandalorian managed to get her stick out, shoving the puck out of the wolf’s grasp. She slid carefully, hearing their skates scrape and grind as she spun around to take control.
The race back to the Mercenaries goal was intense, a five on one break away that had Sabine already tensing up to get hit the further she pushed it, legs exhausting as she worked; Bo-Katan had already shifted, and Koska had switched with Rex this time.
“Wren is breaking away! All alone crossing into Mercenary ice!”
“Here comes Hati, closing in fast-”
“Ohhh that one has got to hurt!”
The wolf’s shoulder smacked into her, their stick tangling in her skates in an illegal hook that sent her to the ground. Sabine hit the ice hard, sliding into the boards as they released their hold. The shrill whistle was sharp and skull splitting, but still, Sabine managed to get up, catching the venomous heaviness in dark eyes that tracked her recovery. The wolf turned away from her, igniting a spark of anger in her stomach.
“Seems like Wren isn’t going to let that hit stand!”
The cheers that followed Sabine throwing her gloves and stick to the ground were loud and thunderous, but no more than her own heart as the almost bored look in Hati’s gaze turned into one of excitement. The scouts had noted that the wolf played with her food, and right now, Sabine was a four course meal.
Her knuckles connected with their jaw almost as soon as her glove bounced off the ice. Heavy hands shoved into her to keep her back, though she could tell already that the bony knuckle of her middle finger had managed to split skin, red bubbling up onto a pale canvas quickly.
There wasn’t much time to focus on the renowned look in their eyes when a gloved hand launched into her face, smacking her head back off the glass hard enough to bring black spots to her eyes, though the second hit, ungloved, and right into the sliver of space between the pads right into her kidneys was the one that sent her to the ground, knees hitting the ice hard enough to make her bones ache.
The crowd was screaming and cheering at the fight, smaller fights broke out on the ice around them, and Sabine could just barely see Skoll, shouting past the line of refs and yellow and white jerseys as he tried to call them off of her as Ahsoka and Kix struggled to rush through the traffic. Fans were throwing things onto the ice, and a cold hand bashed into her face at least two more times, the skin of her lip splitting under torn knuckles, even as hot blood raced down the back of her head, staining her own jersey an almost orange color as the ichor bled into the bright yellows.
Sabine’s vision swam, fists swinging weakly out, hands grasping at the white of their jersey, staining it with her own blood, trying to keep them from swinging any more. By the time Baylan managed to drag them off of her, Sabine’s vision was just a pinprick, barely managing to catch the look on Ahsoka’s face as she and Hera raced to try and catch her, darkness enveloping them in the hazy warmth of blood loss and the deafening sound of fans screaming.
Translations:
Muun Nynir - Hard Hit
verd'ika - little warrior
ad'ika - little one
aliit - family
Kurs’kadedse - wolves
for be’gotal’ad sake - for the sake of the maker
Gotal’ad, verd’ika - Maker, little warrior
#wolfwren#sabine wren#shin hati#ahsoka tano#baylan skoll#reva sevander#trilla suduri#star wars#hockey#hockey au#ahsoka series#ahsoka#bo katan kryze#fic
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Can we please just fire Dave Filoni and Kathleen Kennedy now. I'm so tired of Padme and Naboo erasure. Both of them are important to Star Wars! And I hate the foreshadowing of the ST. The ST should've never happened at all. Screw JJ Abrams and Rian whatever his last name is.
ANYWAYS, the Jedi Order is reborn, and Luke is guiding the new Jedi. The New Republic has formed, and the galaxy is recovering from years of darkness from the Empire. What are sequels again? Idk. Sequels don't exist. I just see a new golden era in the galaxy.
If you're wondering, anon is responding to this post
Part I - Dave Filoni
I will say Dave Filoni under the direction of George Lucas gave us amazing stuff-- Ahsoka Tano, Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, expansion of Order 66, the Clone Wars themselves. But him on his own? Not so great.
Ahsoka's walkabout in s7 was boring, the two sisters had potential but blundered in the execution. The BadBatch arc in s7 featured super amazing Anakin, and I did like the whole 'rescue Echo' plot line, but the Bad Batch as a TV show… I have some criticisms of it.
I like the ' what happens to the Clones after the Empire forms? They've served their purpose-- are they still relevant?' story line. It would be a great one to explore with normal clones. In fact, following Cody around, a clone who did participate in Order 66 and had his mind taken over, would've been a novel experience.
Instead we get genetically enhanced clones who don't have programing chips cause they're special snowflakes and don't partake in Order 66 bc they're special. Getting to see their side of Order 66 really brought nothing-- it's the same as the Jedi. Why are the clones turning against the Jedi? No one knows! It's rinse and repeat watered down version of ROTS, and i'd much prefer watching that movie over the first two episodes of TBB.
I will also give credit-- Dave Filoni and Favereau gave me The Mandalorian. A side character who doesn't know he's the main character just trying to make his way in the larger GFFA. He's a normal guy with a job. Then new dad has to deal with his adopted kid having Wizard powers. ME Likey. It's similar to Andor in down to earth, not life and death, Jedi/Sith fate of the Galaxy type of thing. It's what normal life would've been like in GFFA.
Third season and some of second season haven't felt like that though. Din keeps meeting all these famous people that are tied of in the 'Fate of the Galaxy' --Bo Katan, Ahsoka, Boba Fett, Cad Bane, Luke fucking Skywalker-- instead of more normal people. I do appreciate the smallness of season 1-- we had Peli, and Omera, and Karga. Characters not known to the larger galaxy, but still important in their own right.
Part II- Female Characters
Star Wars has never appreciated or loved it's female characters with the exception of Princess Leia. Original Trilogy follows Luke-- male character, who with the help of an older male character, goes and finds another male character pilot to help them infiltrate a small moon space ship full of male characters.
There are exactly TWO female speaking characters in A New Hope and one gets kriffed off to 'enhance male pain'.
Now, by nature of the story, Padme Amidala get shafted before she was even ever named or created -- Luke was raised by his aunt and uncle so something must have happened to his mother. She is 'unknown mother' defined only relationship with her son and then later to her husband.
It's not until the Phantom Menace when she gets her own storyline, that is little to non effected by her relationship to Anakin. She's a queen who has someone invade her planet, and with the help of two Jedi and the Gungan People, saves the day.
Anakin helps of course, by first winning them enough credits to get off tattooine, and second by blowing up the control ship, but both situations could be solved without Anakin. He becomes the unnecessary character-- his introducution is so low-key you don't realize the story is about him until Revenge of the Sith. He's a supporting side character in both Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones.
Both prequel movies that don't feature Anakin as protagonist or antagonist are hated by a large majority of SW fans, and usually because of the crime of not being perfect. Jar Jar Binks is just as annoying as C-3PO imo, but because the protagonist of TPM is Padme Amidala, the movie is hated, as opposed to ANH which features Luke.
Padme's fate was written before she even had a chance to exist, and therefore has no agency. I've seen others label her as weak, pointless, lame, because she dies of a broken heart, 'oh why didn't she live for her children' SHE DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE OKAY. George had already killed her by then, she can't live for her children when the author has decided otherwise. The nature of a prequel is it must narratively co-exist with the story already told. Padme must die or be removed from the picture so that Luke can be raised by his Aunt and Uncle. Anakin must fall to the Dark-Side so that he can be Darth Vader and do a heel-face turn at the end of ROTJ. the end has already been written. The beginning must fall in line.
Getting back on topic. Fathers are mentioned in The Mandalorian- which makes sense since it's about a Father and his Son. oh wait that's seems that's what Star Wars is about. Prequels were Anakin picking which father-figure he wanted to follow. Luke saving his Father. Din Djarin adopting a son with magic powers.
But Bo-Katan mentions her father TWICE and her sister doesn't even get a mention. Even though Bo was there at Satine's death, and the reason Bo left death watch and stood up to Maul. When Satine died, Mandalore split and fractured and any attempt of restoring mandalore just resulted in more fracturing and shattering.
In Obi-Wan Kenobi not mentioning Padme was criminal. The whole reason Anakin fell was to save her. Her daughter and son were featured prominently and her name didn't come up once besides two vague mentions.
SW needs to treat it's female characters better. Right now Leia is still the only one that's almost universally loved by the fans. Even Bo Katan has issues. By not acknowledging her past and mistakes and death watch , instead of making her a stronger character, the writers have made her weak. Making mistakes and learning from them and growing from them are what causes her to be relatable. So far, Mando S3 has been rushing her redemption process. They're having her reunite Mandalore, but she hasn't atoned or made up for her failings in the past.
It was her involvement in Death Watch that lead to her sisters death, and the writers essentially ignoring that and trying to hide it is lazy and the antithesis to character growth.
Part III - Disney's Anti- Prequel campaign.
The sequel trilogy… is problematic. While trying to emulate and give us the 'star wars' feeling again, all the films did was undermine the finale of the original trilogy.
What was Darth Vader's return to the light for if we're just going to bring back Palpatine? What was the point of Luke's rejection of the darkside and declaring himself a Jedi in the face of evil itself, if we're just going to have him become a hermit on a planet because he gave up? What was the point of the Alliance to Restore the Republic if we're just going to blow it up because it's corrupt?
The problem with trying to avoid the prequel trilogy is the sequel trilogy just became the prequel trilogy. Hear me out.
We have a corrupt Republic that is destroyed by an Empire. A Jedi student falls to the Dark Side and serves the Empire. A desert dwelling person with magical powers is told that they are the key to saving the galaxy. Am i talking about the Prequel Trilogy or the Sequel Trilogy?
The difference is the prequel trilogy was planned. From start to finish, no half baked retconning or switching directions (both original and sequel trilogies suffered from this) George Lucas had the entire prequels laid out. Their largest crime I believe is in writing/dialogue-- not the plot. It's complicated-- how does a republic turn into an empire? How does a Jedi Knight become a sith? How does the Jedi Order become extinct? Through War and Careful Planning. So while the prequels are not perfect, their world building brought much needed light and explanation to the Original Trilogy. It answered questions, but the answers were not what everyone liked.
They wanted the Republic to be conquered by an outside Empire, not for it to be one and the same. Fans wanted Anakin to be strong and heroic, and not a man who is crippled by self-doubt and his greatest failure is his greatest strength- his breath and depth of love.
The sequel trilogy should've been the struggle of not repeating the same mistakes. Of avoiding the past not repeating it. Of Luke not giving up and not becoming Obi-Wan. Of Han not becoming Qui-Gon Jinn or Ben Skywalker not becoming Darth Vader. Or Rey being her own self and not being Luke 2.0 aka finding out that her grandfather is evil just like Luke found out that his father was evil.
Star Wars is was the first to suffer from Disney's new nostalgia machine where live action play by play of beloved animated movies are created without souls; and sequels that are just the same story retold with the next generation. 'Happily Ever After The End' no longer exists, the hope of a happy ending destroyed with the next sequel announcement. Where does it end Disney? When you've wrung the last love and enjoyment out of your original titles? When consumers no longer go to the movies to see your new Frankenstein movie? When catering Fan Service is no longer profitable?
Disney's addiction to sequels and reboots found it's first home in Star Wars Sequel Trilogy and continues in the rest of the Star Wars universe. What is Boba Fett if not a sequel to Mandalorian? What is Ahsoka if not a sequel to Rebels? What is Obi-Wan Kenobi if not a sequel to the Prequel Trilogy? What is Andor if not a prequel to Rogue one?
The Mandalorian didn't start out that way. Was it in the same universe? yes and so by nature it makes it a sequel. But there were new original characters and an original story. Now it's become a sequel and a prequel; the connecting link instead of a stand alone.
So yes anon, Padme and Satine deserve better. But you know what? We deserve better too.
#star wars#shale.txt#rant#anti-disney#padme amidala#satine kryze#bo katan kryze#the mandalorian#anti sequel trilogy#anonymous#asked and answered#anon#sw meta#dave filoni#anti dave finilo#but also pro???#anti bad batch
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A little blurb from the Cad Bane x OC story I am writing.
Yes this is incredibly cheesy, yes this story is purely self-indulgent. And it’s not really a story that is going anywhere. Just little prompts and ideas.
But I still think it’s kind of cute…
So OC is an Ex-Jedi that left the order around the time of The Phantom Menace and this is a few years after order 66. Bane and her have been a thing for a while, so it’s established relationship at this point.
OC (her name is Tara) hasn’t been using her force powers a lot, especially not around him. For obvious reasons. She is only now slowly reconnecting to the force after separating herself from it for years. Bane isn’t sure what to make of that yet.
She returned to her original position, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she reached out with her right hand and stayed like that. He could feel the air around her shift slightly, it was familiar, the feeling he always got when the Jedi used the Force against him. But it felt different around her. It didn't make him uneasy, even though something was clearly happening.
Bane looked to where her hand was now pointing and saw another dragonfly land right on her fingertip. It stayed there, even when she withdrew her hand back to them.
She held it out to him, proudly displaying the insect that seemed to trust her for some reason. He hummed and studied it, then her. She looked at him as if expecting him to do something. Then she slowly took his hand and linked their fingers.
The dragonfly seemed hesitant, but ultimately made its way over to Bane’s hand. And… stayed. He'd never held a live insect so close before, but it didn't seem to fear him at all, making itself at home on his finger as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
A part of him was waiting for it to realise who’s hand it was sitting on and flee in terror.
“Didn’t know ya guys could mind-control animals too.” he lifted his hand to his eye level to get a closer look at its colorful wings.
“I’m not controlling anything. I simply relayed that you won’t harm it, but whether it stays with you or not is up to it.”
“So yer talkin’ to it?” he snickered again “Ya sound like one of dose fairytale princesses.”
Tara had to stifle a laugh at his remark. “If I’m a princess, does that make you my white knight?”
Now it was up to Bane to hold back so as not to scare the dragonfly away. “Do I look like a knight to ya? I fight, I drink, I steal… if anythin’ I’m de outlaw who terrorizes yer kingdom with his gang.”
“Sounds a lot more like my kind of life,” she grinned at him. “You think there’s room for me in your gang?”
“Ha. For you? Always.”
I‘m not sure where I‘m going with this. I’ve written a lot but I’m not really confident about it and English isn’t my native language either so who knows. But I liked this part and wanted to share it.
#cad bane#star wars#sw tcw#cad bane x oc#fluff#sw tbb#fanfic#blurb#blue cowboy#WITH guns!#Space Cowboy#I am lowkey obsessed with these two#oc#self insert#also i think this might be the first writing I posted online#so I might never post about it again#🥲
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“Kill Your Darlings” to Streamline Your Story
Criticism of “The Gathering Storm” in The Book of Boba Fett
Word Count: 1,643
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I mentioned here that “Kill your darlings” is editing advice that means to cut out something you as the writer really enjoy in a story in order to make the story stronger. If cutting something out makes your story better by clarifying something, narrowing the focus, reinforcing character or plot objectives, bettering the pacing, raising the stakes, or by clearing up valuable space wasted on something we don’t need to see, cut it out.
I think TBoBF suffered from a lot of weak writing choices, and in order to streamline the story a bit some of those characters, visual elements, scenes, or chunks of the script have to go. There’s too much “stuff” happening but not a lot of story, and the script itself isn’t all that interesting to listen to in the first place; a lot of lines just state the obvious or are clichéd and overdone jokes, and there is also a lot of exposition given in monologues vs the audience seeing the story play out for itself.
In a show with only seven episodes, they don’t have time to dwell on anything that doesn’t directly add to Boba’s main plot or character arc, the parts of the world he is operating in, and the other main characters relevant to that story. Though there are other examples, I think a concise example of one of the biggest wastes of space is episode 4, “The Gathering Storm.” Three-fourths of that episode is a loooong long flashback to Boba’s team-up with Fennec, which doesn’t tell us anything new about the characters or the world. The things the flashback tells us are:
Fennec Shand was brought back to life aided by cybernetics (Which was established in a few lines of dialogue in “The Tragedy” of season 2 of The Mandalorian)
Boba formed a partnership with Fennec Shand (Which was established in “The Tragedy” of season 2 of The Mandalorian)
Boba got his ship back (Which was established in “The Tragedy” of season 2 of The Mandalorian)
Boba was searching for his armor (Which was not only foreshadowed in a three second wordless scene in “The Marshal” in season 2 of The Mandalorian, but was established and resolved in “The Tragedy” of the same season)
Boba and Fennec took over Jabba’s Palace (Which was not only more effectively conveyed in a two minute credits scene of the previous season of The Mandalorian, but are also the establishing circumstances of the show we are currently watching)
You see what I’m getting at?
The audience already knows cybernetics exist in this world, and that they are relatively quick, effective, and easily accessible. There is also zero tension in seeing a character come back to life in a flashback when we are watching a show where that character is already alive, and whose presence was also established in a previous season. We don’t need to see Boba get his ship back because we as the audience know Boba Fett is a capable person, so him simply showing back up in a previous season with it doesn’t really have us scratching our heads as to how it was achieved. We don’t learn anything new about his and Fennec’s relationship since we can already tell Fennec doesn’t have a problem working for him and he already treats her as his equal and partner. We don’t need to see the layout of the palace, we don’t need to see them defeating a couple of nobody droids, we don’t really need to see Boba bonding with the bantha, we don’t need the cybernetic mod-parlor, and tbh we don’t really need to see him destroy the Sarlacc.
The only new information the flashback provides is that Boba used the ship to get revenge on the Nikto speederbike gang he thinks killed the Tuskens. In my opinion, the Niktos should have been cut out entirely and more importantly, the Tuskens should have still been alive up until the episode where Cad Bane reveals himself to Boba, and Bane then makes a comment to the effect of “It sure would be a shame if something happened to those closest to you,” which makes Boba realize his tribe could be in danger. That puts the action in the present and presents a physical and emotional obstacle for Boba to overcome.
Boba immediately flies out to either warn them or verify for himself if they are in danger, leaving the Palace defense weakened to the point the Pykes or whoever they hire can attack while Boba is away. They don’t even have to deceive him and cast blame elsewhere, having already murdered the tribe to get back at him and send a message. He already has beef with the Pykes, and they are using this attack against what he holds most dear as their means of weakening, if not destroying him. Get him out of the palace, divide and conquer his defenses while he’s gone, and cause a serious emotional blow to Boba right when they are on the precipice of war, making him emotionally unstable and more likely to be reckless or distracted as a result of the provocation, thus easier to defeat.
They can also be gambling on that anger being enough to push Boba over the edge and have him resort back to his more ruthless past self as a killer, gunning down anybody who would stand in his way on his warpath back to the Pykes, which breaks down the reputation he’s been trying to build being a leader based on having people’s respect, not fear. Then he would have nobody backing him up and he truly would be fighting alone.
Going back to Boba and Fennec, anything they wanted to explore concerning their character dynamics should have been done in the present timeline. Don’t tell the audience “These two are on good terms” and then have zero conflict OR growth between them— Show the audience how these characters interact within the conflicts presented and how their relationship develops in the present.
Something they could have done to strengthen Boba’s character, develop his relationship with Fennec, and consolidate extraneous characters and scenes into stronger ones is if Boba had been the one to save Fennec’s life directly. Cut out the cybernetic mod-parlor and have Boba recognize Shand and drag her back to his own base of operations he established after leaving the Tuskens. Show me Boba doing the work patching her up, Fennec gasping back to life and demanding to know what happened and where she is, and now you’ve given her character a reason to feel even more indebted to his service.
You can then go two ways with their relationship, either with a sense of friendship and camaraderie, both with similar pasts as hunters for hire and both barely escaping the brink of death, OR give them just a bit of conflict and tension, Fennec not liking the fact she feels indebted to Boba for saving her life, and now being forced into a sedentary life that puts her at risk of enemies being more readily able to find her.
Then we can move forward in the present with a number of different possibilities. Fennec should have been serving in the background undercover instead of the foreground anyway, keeping her role as a stealth expert going and adhering to her demand that Boba keep her presence a secret for her own safety and discretion. You could have Fennec resentful of the fact she has to rely on Boba to modify her cybernetics, making her feel further indebted to him while also giving her a weakness she has reason to keep hidden from others. Fennec is not someone who likes to rely on people, a character trait that is paralleled in Boba. All of that would have given her more depth and meat to her role, providing a solid objective for what that character wants within this story. (As the show stands right now, Fennec is static without her own character arc or change throughout the show. She’s more of a yes-man to Boba, a capable character who can accomplish what the plot needs to happen, but not really that interesting to follow on her own because Fennec is established to be content to go along with whatever. She does cool stuff, but it’s more like watching an action figure and less like seeing a character develop.)
Making Boba responsible for saving Fennec also means we could have had his relationship with Cobb Vanth come full circle at the end; instead of simply providing the bacta to heal Vanth, the end of the season should have been Boba personally being the one to fulfill the debt he feels toward the people of Mos Pelgo and the marshal by tending to the marshal himself.
Vanth was Mos Pelgo’s primary defense, he was shot by Boba’s primary emotional and physical antagonist, and he was mortally wounded because he no longer had his biggest defensive advantage: the very armor Boba now has back in his possession that the marshal gave up to Mando in season 2. Cad Bane went out to Mos Pelgo after the people there were contacted as backup for Boba’s conflict, and the people of Mos Pelgo showed up in the fight at the end because of their marshal, not because of Fett. Their presence meant Fett was able to succeed however, and Fett is also not someone who likes being indebted to people. Him doing the actual work the cyberneticist was there for at the end would have further reinforced Fett being somebody now who helps the people who could not or cannot defend themselves. It directs the story’s focus back to him and cuts out extraneous side characters and gives these characters’ relationships a lot more weight, actually threading these individuals together while simultaneously reinforcing Boba Fett as a capable, resourceful, interesting, and meaningful character.
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bad batch ep 10 & 11
WARNING SPOILERS AHEAD!!!
So I've just finished this week's bad batch and Mr. Filoni blessed us with 2 incredible episodes.
I want to break them down individually since they're very different.
Let's start with ep 10!
We start off with a brand new planet (could be wrong but I have never seen it).
Here we meet a super cute force-sensitive child (he's such a sweet potato, I mean come on) with his mother.
This is a time when it's very dangerous time to be able to control the powers of the force, so of course, something bad happens.
Come on, it's Star Wars. We can't give the characters a happy ending.
I was so sad when he got taken but Dave Filoni granted us a Cad Bane cameo to lessen the pain.
And I will take that.
It was super cool to see what Emerie has been up to since we left her off in the beginning of the season.
This episode did not include anyone from the batch yet I tend to believe the episodes that do not revolve around the squad always turn out to be SO GOOD.
I was sobbing up when we got see what was going on inside that damn secret vault.
I think it's pretty obvious that there would be force-sensitive children there, yet idk why but I always imagined something different would hide behind the locked doors.
Anyway, Eve is definetly one of my new faves and seeing how these children were treated really made my heart ache.
Seeing this new critical side to Emerie was so cool!
Filoni is definitely leading up to her playing a significant role in this season.
And I'm all here for it
Seeing Emerie give Eve Omegas homemade Lula was definitely the perfect icing on top of the cake
Overall this is probably one of my favorite episodes so far
Now let's talk ep 11
Wow, just wow
I didn't think it could get any sadder.
The batch are supposed to leave Pabu but are prevented by the mysterious new clone soldier (who people believe to be Tech)
I myself also stand by that theory
This episode was just pure chaos for the bad batch
Seeing Wrecker hurt, Hunter working on his own, the blooming relationship between Omega and Crosshair.
Let's focus on the last thing acutally.
I've never really been a Crosshair fan but he's growing on me. Especially after how he his around Omega.
Their conversation at end about Omega's surrender and doing the right thing was just so ARGH!
LIKE HOLY SHIT!
Seeing Omega surrender and then just sitting completely alone on the imperial ship was just HEARTBREAKING
Seeing Crosshair miss with the tracking device also didn't help my mental health
OVERALL
These two episodes slapped!!
I can not wait until next Wednesday
Dave Filoni don't do this to me!!!
#star wars#the bad batch#review#star wars clones#clone force 99#clone trooper crosshair#batcher#tbb omega#wrecker bad batch#tech bad batch#hunter bad batch#tbb echo#captain rex
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Genuinely curious: How did you get hooked on Banaka?
I have an enabler, that’s why. A few, but none so great as @allsystemsblue and I thank her every day for that. Not only do we have daily discussions about those two, but it makes the ideas run wild in my head. The more and more I think about them, the more ways I see them being good together, so much so I name them my OTP.
At first, like most Bane Stans, I was like, nah, he’d hate him. Hondo would annoy the fuck out of Bane, and while that may be true, that doesn’t account for things such as nuance, or growing to be obsessed with your “enemy” to the point it becomes homoerotic. >D
But I sell myself short. I have thought way too long and hard to give a simple explanation such as this, so let me delve a little more into the idea by explaining a bit of their canon backstories, and then my own takes on how they work well together and why.
Bane grew up on Duro, specifically in New Tayana, and lived in an area called the “Descent Ghetto.” It was not a nice place. Hondo was raised for a time on Sriluur, a not so nice place either, in Hutt Space where his mother taught him how to pick-pocket, among other things. Eventually, he was sold into slavery, but he knew deep down I am sure that it was for the money. He escaped, but we can determine they both have a rough start in life.
At this level we might say there could be an understanding. A mutual respect for a man who is self-made. In this they can relate, and while Hondo has his own set of problems commanding an entire crew, both could possibly confide in one another and discuss life’s ills.
As I mentioned in a previous post, Jango and Bane are an “item” if you will, for a period of time. I have yet to decide all the determining factors or all the things I want to cover in this part of my story, but based on what I know about Jango, he was not an affectionate sort. Gruff, surly, to the point, a man of few words, and with a short temper who has little patience for bullshit. If we take that and add to it a cunning, outspoken, brash, ill-tempered, sassy, aggressive Duros, to me that equates to an unhappy ending, or a clashing of personalities are they are both so similar. In this case, opposites attract.
If Jango and Bane were to part ways, Hondo being in the picture and observing their relationship, seeing the value in Cad, becoming fascinated and absorbed in him, regardless of if Bane knows or acknowledges that fact, should he give the Weequay a chance, all those things he has been denied through Jango easily come into fruition via Hondo Ohnaka.
This man needs love, support, a friend even, healing. He is traumatized in part due to his past (my story), and Jango is not that empathetic or concerned.
Hondo is attentive, charming, a deep thinker despite his clownish façade. If Bane can get past his petty grievances, if they were to share a moment or two alone, if they had a chance to talk, to linger in each other’s presence, if BANE ALLOWED HIM A SHOT, I think Ohnaka could sweep him off his feet. He would see there was more to him than just the flamboyant, foppish pirate.
Granted, Bane is untrusting. He sees the women; men; sentients, that Hondo brings to Florrum. He knows of his sexual escapades. He knows he’s a flirt and a scoundrel, so it is tough going in the beginning for Bane to accept what he is experiencing or receiving from him is genuine.
Perhaps they engage in something together, possibly among others, that is a sexual awakening in Bane. I see Hondo as giving to Bane things he has never felt before or even knew was possible.
He would hate it. It would unnerve him. He wouldn’t know what to think, to do, how to address this feeling inside himself, and it would soon devour him alive.
Maybe he needs more of it, despite wanting to inflict violence or damage against the person (Ohnaka) that made him feel this way. It becomes a need, a thirst so infuriatingly strong in him that it must be quenched.
This could develop in to a tentative, informal, even secretive relationship. It could go on for months, weeks, Hondo one of the few people who can bounce right back after one of Cad’s terrible mood swings. He doesn’t take offense to his words, or rarely if that, something more personal perhaps, but he is able to deal with this terrible, bratty boy and knows just how to placate him, how to soothe him.
Maybe casual sex “digresses," or “upgrades” to feelings being involved, real affection occurring, yet also hidden behind closed doors. I foresee angst, drama, hurt, comfort, and a whole plethora of other tropes occurring between these two.
One is the concept of “sun” and “moon.” Hondo is the sun to Bane’s moon. He is the sunshine one, the happy one, the one who can get this bounty hunter out of his funk on more than one occasion, despite his jealous, possessive tendencies.
To me they are perfectly complimentary. That’s basically it. Not only that, Hondo knows when he needs his space, when not to crowd him, when to stand down, and even though Bane may raise his hand against him, Hondo would never afford him the same reaction. Not like Jango.
Though Hondo speaks many, many words, actions speak louder to Bane, and Hondo can read him, whereas many cannot.
Pair that with his almost obsessive interest in Bane, and the fact he is without a doubt attracted to him from the moment Fett brings him to Florrum, and we have for a most interesting potential ship, IMO.
#Fanfiction#Banaka#Cad Bane x Hondo Ohnaka#Cad Bane#Hondo Ohnaka#Jango Fett#Clone Wars#headcanons#Ask#Fanfic Ask#rarepair#my otp#ship manifesto
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A Warm Meal
Cad Bane stops by for a hookup, you both get a lot more than you bargained for.
THIS INVOLVES PERIODS AND PERIOD BLOOD. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure out the premise of this story.
If you’re not into that then steer clear.
Hell I’m not into that, but this idea has been in my head and I couldn’t not write it out. So many fics portray Cad as a cold blooded predator and I just kinda…ran with it.
…I’m so sorry.
F/M, reader insert, swearing, downright toxic relationship, not healthy, Cad’s an ass and I’ll stand by that, not safe for damn anything/anywhere, 18+++, absolute self-indulgent trash. So basically my usual.
———————————————————————
Cad Bane rested a booted foot on the dash of his ship, idly rolling a toothpick between his thin lips. The last bounty had been a wicked bitch to bring in, but the credits he had earned almost made up for the hassle. No new target had presented itself to him yet and he mused on how to fill the next few days. He supposed he could be proactive, track down a couple new leads, wring some information out of a couple contacts, or…..
He could get laid.
The lanky blue Duros growled under his breath and adjusted himself in the Justifier’s pilot seat. It had been a while, a couple jobs ago at least, since he’s gotten any. The thought of spending a night with someone warm and soft instead of that infernal droid…well he’s halfway hard just thinking about it.
While his ship drifts through space Bane flips through his mental little black book. Plenty of brothels in this part of the outer rim, but he was in the mood for something a bit more sporty. He continued his musing. There’s that one on…oh wait they’re dead. How about the other one…but the last round had been so boring it wasn’t worth the fuel burned getting there.
Well there’s that little minx on Tatooine? Bane groaned, remembering his last romp with her. Warm, sweet, mammalian flesh, and a mouth so hot he’d swear it scorched his cock the first time. She’d most likely still be pissed as hell after his abrupt departure several cycles ago. He grinned, sharp canines flashing in the dim light of the cockpit. That temper of hers always added that extra…spice he was in the mood for.
He set a course for the desert rat hole.
The best thing for a cold blooded reptile is heat and a nice warm meal.
——-
The Carina was busy. It seems every lowlife on this side of the planet crept in to avoid the twin suns. You threaded your way through the crowd, delivering the drinks and avoiding the groping hands, claws, and tentacles. Working as a waitress wasn’t ideal, but the tips were good. Sooner rather than later you’d have enough saved up to get off this baked rock of a planet.
As you deftly avoid the various obstacles you let yourself dream a little. The Galaxy was huge, so many places to see, there was no way you’re spending your life serving swill and picking the pockets of drunk customers. A girl’s got to make a living somehow and the there’s no way the clientele here got the money legally you’d reasoned to yourself. You’d gotten good at it too, supplementing your savings and bringing you closer to a transport ticket.
Absentmindedly you continued to pour, thinking back on the various customers who thought they were getting laid, only to wake up a few hundred credits poorer. It was almost too easy.
Except that one time. Your mouth twists in a slight frown. The Duros had seemed tipsy enough, sitting alone under a ridiculous hat. He hadn’t been bad looking and responded with interest to your flirting. Somehow it all went wrong. Instead of ending up a few hundred credits richer you’d ended up under him in a dark alley, drowning in pleasure as he pounded into you. Then he left.
The next shift was absolute chaos because the whole town knew Cad Bane had been there. You’d actually dropped the platter of drinks when you made the connection. The blue Duros who’d fucked you senseless was also the most notorious bounty hunter in the galaxy. You’d told yourself it was a one time thing, better to avoid attention.
He’d showed up again, and again, and again. Every time he showed up you’d tell yourself no, and every time you’d end up screaming his name. That blasted Duros had ruined you for any other partner, you’d taken a man home a couple months ago but had stopped him before your bra came off. It hadn’t been worth it.
Cad Bane had showed up the following night, in his usual fashion of breaking in and scaring the living hell out of you. Breaking his habit of getting immediately down to business this last time he stood in your doorway and stared.
“Ya had’a man in here.”
“What’s it to you?” You snapped back.
“I don’ like folks touchin’ whats MINE.” He growled, a warning rattle coming from his chest.
“I’m NOT…” you had shrieked back but he had grabbed you and bent your form over the sofa. With that dizzying speed of his your pants were on the floor and he was pushing one of those long fingers into you. He had taken you hard, chasing only his own release. You had been close, so damn close, when he pulled out and spent himself across your back.
He had leaned forward and rasped into your ear “only tha good girls get ta cum, bad lil’ sluts don’.”
You had turned around and attempted to slap him, but he caught your arm with ease.
“Behave betta’ next time lil’ lady.” Tipping his hat and walking out your door.
You’d done some reading on Duros after that experience. How had he even known you’d had a guest? A guest that nothing actually happened with. Reading through various articles gave you your answer. Duros evolved as apex predators, their senses light years better than a humans. The bounty hunter had smelled another person in your home.
Shaking your head to clear your thoughts you focused on your job. The blue bastard hadn’t been back and you needed to focus on getting off this rock.
An hour later things had slowed down and you were exhausted. A dull cramp had grown in your abdomen; you realized your period had well and truly started. No surprise there, but it was a good enough excuse to leave the cantina a little early. You walked yourself home, humming a few snatches of songs and planning what book to catch up on.
——-
Bane let himself into your small apartment. It was cozy, just the right temperature to keep him warm during the cold desert nights, and in a quiet alley where everyone minded their own business. Not that he’d actually let someone see him, he thought with a smirk. Stepping inside he took a deep breath, allowing his olfactory receptors to take in the various scents. The Duros grinned. No one else had been in this home since he’d last dropped by.
There was a new scent in the room, muted, barely there, and fresh. He inhaled again. Some deeply buried instinct twinged. The reptile portion of his brain, evolved from when Duros were simply predators, reacted to it…yearned for it. He was hungry.
Interesting smells aside, he was excited for the night’s activities. Knowing you’d be spitting mad he smirked, feeling himself harden at the thought. Chewing on a fresh toothpick he wandered to the small kitchen, poured himself a glass of whatever good stuff you’d nicked from the cantina, and settled in to wait.
——-
Your door was unlocked.
That only meant two things. Either someone had broken in, it happened often, or…
Or that damn Duros was here.
Your temper flared and you didn’t fight it. The blue asshole had some nerve after his last little visit. Well he DEFINITELY wasn’t getting anything tonight. You’d give him a piece of your mind, kick his scrawny ass out, and curl up with a book and a heating pad.
——-
The door slammed open, Bane grinned. Oh yeah, she’s madder than hell. Knocking back the last of his drink he felt himself harden. This was going to be a good romp.
He watches you stalk into the room, a sneer twisting across that pretty little face of yours.
“You giant blue ASSHOLE! I swear to whatever gods are out there I’m going kick your scrawny worthless ass out of…is that my BEST BOTTLE…….you arrogant useless fucking………GET OUT!”
Yup, spitting mad. The Duros’ cock was pressing against his pants.
Bane stood up and sauntered up to the furious human. She might even try hitting him again, that would make things fun. A lazy, cocky smile creeped onto his face.
“Thought you’d behave betta’ this time lil lady, gonna have ta teach another lesson in manners.” He growled out, a warning rattling in his chest.
He inhaled, and froze.
That smell, delicious. Warm. Coppery. Blood. It awoke everything primal buried deep in his consciousness. He lunged.
——-
You watched the Duros inhale, cheeks moving in that odd way of his species. You watched him freeze, eyes going unfocused. You watched his lips pull back in a snarl, canines on full display. The toothpick fell from his mouth.
Maybe you shouldn’t have called him an asshole…
He lunged. You choked back a scream and scrambled backwards but he was too fast. In seconds he pushed you against a wall, one large blue hand on your chest pinning you and the other wrapped around your hip, holding you still.
“….Bane” you gasp out “what…”
He growled at you.
Slowly he kneeled down until his face was level with your sex. Pressing his face into you so hard his hat tipped back he closed his eyes and inhaled.
Looking down all you see is the Duros’ broad hat pressed against your stomach. This isn’t normal behavior for Cad Bane. He’s never shown any interest in going down on you, and to be honest you’re not sure how close you want his canines to your sex. Thoughts ricochet through your mind, trying to understand this odd turn of events. The only thing different was your period…shit. All that reading on alien biology flooded back into your mind. Duros are predators with an acute sense of smell.
You, a warm little mammal, had a cold reptilian predator pressed into your sex…and he smelled blood.
Bane stands. The look on his face is feral, no shred of anything civilized in his expression. A rattle comes from his chest.
“Sofa. Now.” He manages to hiss out.
“What….Bane this isn’t the time, I’m on my….”
“NOW” he snarls.
You’re trembling, but you meekly move to his desired location. You’ve always know the bounty hunter is dangerous, but you’ve never been actually scared of him. Now you’re terrified…and incredibly turned on. Well that’s a new kink, you think to yourself. Fear. You can feel a flood of warmth and wetness flows out of your core.
As soon as you’re seated Bane moves. His large hands shred your shorts, and he sinks between your thighs. You squeal when your clothing is destroyed but his violent actions send a bolt of desire through you.
With your lower half bare the Duros spreads your soft thighs. “Keep ‘dem like this…” he rasps, as he leans forward and takes another long inhale.
You’re shaking.
Completely exposed, aching for a touch, something, anything! Terrified of what this reptile will do to you, terrified of how much you want this, and the blue bastard is just smelling you!
“Fuck” you pant “dammit…Bane…..please.”
He doesn’t even look at you.
Slowly, oh so slowly, he presses one long finger into your dripping entrance. It reaches deep inside, deeper than any other species has been able to reach. Your back arches and you gasp. Fuck, this is why you can’t say no to this creature.
He begins to move. Pumping that one long finger into your slick heat. Whimpers escape you as you watch his single minded determination to reach as deep as he can. He adds a second finger, curling them slightly to hit that special spot. His strokes are slow, methodical, hitting just the right angle over and over again.
It doesn’t take long. Under the relentless assault your orgasm hits like a lightning strike. Pleasure burns through your core, setting every nerve ending alight as you writhe under Bane’s restraining hand. You gasp out his name as your thighs quiver.
Withdrawing his digits Bane stares at the fluids covering it. Blood mixed with your usual juices drips down into his palm. He spreads his fingers, watching the strings of your arousal spread between his fingers.
He licks it. His eyes close and he groans deeply. Eyes wide you watch as he cleans your arousal and blood off his fingers. This is fucked up, you think. Why the hell am I so turned on?
When his digits are clean he finally meets your gaze. His breath is rattling in his chest and he snarls.
“I want…more.”
——-
Cad Bane, dreaded bounty hunter, has his face buried between your thighs. And he is absolutely devouring you.
Why did you never let him go down on you, your orgasm-drunk mind is reeling. Why has this never happened before? It’s incredible.
His tongue dips inside you again, lapping up every trace of blood and juices. Deeper and deeper he probes, working his strangely cold tongue furiously as it fucks you. One large thumb presses on your clit, rubbing roughly.
Gasps, moans, are curses pour from your lips. Unconsciously your hips flex, pressing your sex closer to his face as you approach your climax. Sensing you’re close he raises his head. Fangs bared, he looks at you.
The lower half of his face is covered in your blood, framed between your thighs. It’s smeared from his nose plate to his chin, dripping into the fabric of his bodysuit. You can see more blood between his canines, in the corners of his mouth, EVERYWHERE in his mouth. His thumb is still running rapid circles across your clit.
It’s disgusting…filthy…the most depraved sight you’d ever seen, this creature feasting on your period blood. A deep rattle emits from his chest.
You cum with a scream, every muscle convulsing. Pleasure swaps your body, as your vision goes white. The Duros dips his head down, mouth open as he licks…drinks the fluids gushing from your core. His tongue is relentless, tasting every single drop as his canines graze your swollen flesh.
Cad fucking Bane actually moans.
Panting and twitching you lie there, eyes closed, as the aftershocks of your orgasm roll through your body. Dimly the sounds of clothing being removed reaches your ears.
What the actually fuck, you think to yourself. What is wrong with me, why the hell was that so damn hot.
Strong hands wrap themselves around your thighs, hoisting your torso up and causing you to snap your eyes open with a yelp. Bane aligns your hips with his, running his fingers through the slick mess between your thighs, and strokes himself with the slippery fluids.
Entranced you watch as red is smeared all over his thick cock, mixing with the deep blue coloring. He grips it in one hand and slides into your throbbing entrance, filling you up in one firm stroke. Your moan is low and guttural as you arch your back. This is so wrong but it feels SO damn good.
Bane places his huge hand on your abdomen, holding you still and smearing red, as he begins to thrust. He finally finds his voice.
“Fuck…yer so damn tight, so…warm.”
His pace increases, slamming his full length in and out of your heat. The sounds echoing around the room are downright obscene, wet smacks intermingled with your moans and the rasp of his breathing tubes.
“So…fuck…ah…so SLICK”
If this is wrong you never want to know right. Bane’s cock is stretching you in all the right places, hitting all the right angles. The added lubrication from your blood feels incredible. His filthy language sends your mind reeling, and all you can do is stutter out one word.
“h..Harder!”
Bane growls, a deep rumble low in his chest, and forces your legs towards your ears. His pace increases, pounding you in to the sofa. Sobbing and moaning you lose yourself in the sensations he’s pulling from your body. Leaning more of his weight into you, he rasps into your ear.
“Such a good li’l mammal, takin’ this Duros cock so well. Perfect. Perfect li’l meal.”
Canines graze your shoulder and then he bites down hard. You feel them break skin and his rough tongue lapping up the blood, soothing the bite.
“Fuck..ah….fuck…Ca….CAAAAAD”
Bane feels you come completely undone underneath him, your hoarse scream of his name the best sound he’s heard in years. Snapping his hips hard into yours, he feels your tight little cunt clamp down on his length, clenching and shuddering as your climax wracks your body. His cock makes the most beautifully lewd sound as he pulls himself out of your twitching flesh.
He drops one of your legs and wraps a fist around his blood drenched cock. Pumping furiously, his release overwhelming him as he cums in thick ropes across your stomach and breasts. Red tinges his vision as he watches it mix with the blood smeared across your body, dripping down from his teeth marks in your neck.
He looks at his hand. It’s covered in your juices, blood, and a bit of his cum. Inhaling deeply he can smell the warmth of your blood, the bitter tang of his release, and the sweet musk of you. He looks down at the mess he created on your skin and licks his hand clean.
“Now that’s ah damn fine look fer ya li’l lady.”
You’re completely boneless, just a puddle of a human collapsed on a couch. No thoughts, fucked completely senseless by the predator now cleaning your blood off his hand. Mind completely numb you watch him stumble off to your refresher.
——-
Ten minutes later he strides back in, already clothed and cleaned of any evidence. Your brain function has mostly returned and you stare at the state of your body.
What the hell, what the hell, what the hell you think. That was so disgusting, wrong, filthy, just…just gross. I want to do it again.
A warm wet towel lands across your abdomen, breaking your train of thought. Bane looms over you, reaches into a pocket on his long trench coat, and pulls out a handful of credits. He drops them on the sofa next to you.
“….whaaat” you slur out.
“Should cover ya shift tomorrow. I want ‘cha right here when I get back.”
He tips his hat and turns to leave.
“I’ll be here in time fer…..dinner li’l lady and I’m expectin’ a warm meal”
——-
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Write one headcanon for each of your fanfictions’ ships please!
So I have a few different versions of some of my ships so I'll put the title of the story next to which version I mean :) Also the comfort edition??? Most of these are kind of soft so yeahhhhh... I just finished a chapter of Tangle Hearts so I'm feeling soft :)
Spike/Luigi: cooking together becomes a big part of their relationship, it can be slow and lazy sometimes, sipping their preferred drinks and sneaking in a kiss or two. They especially enjoy this activity when it's bad weather outside, cooking up cozy dishes that are perfect for gross weather :)
Raphael/Saki (Nova) They enjoy quiet time together, just cuddling and doing their own thing (Reading and knitting respectively)
Danny/Vlad (Unintended) They get bored just cuddling so they watch movies, and play video/board games together. It gets massively competitive and someone usually ends up breaking something!
Donnie/Saki: They share baths if they have the time to. You could hear the water drip if it were to do so. They don't have to talk to enjoy time with each other.
Cad Bane/Padme: Cuddling never hurts anyone but Padme gets too rarely as Cad is a paranoid bastard, but she does enjoy sharing new snacks with him in bed while a holo film is playing in the background.
Obi-Wan/Dooku: Drinking tea, it reminds them of when things were simpler, and on days they can relax together if on a planet with nature, they take long walks through the woods/fields/etc.
Cad Bane/Obi-Wan: Laying together in bed without a stitch on but not having sexy times. Just basking in each other (Or in Cad's case basking in Obi-Wan's warmth)
Obi-Wan/Ahsoka: Tea, stories, and hiking are these two's favorite go-to activities. But, Ahsoka likes to watch Obi-Wan haggle with vendors/merchants. Obi-Wan takes enjoyment from her contentment and haggles as long as he can.
King Boo/Luigi: Luigi likes to watch Boo Paint, and Boo likes to paint Luigi. Win/win here, except if Boo's in a bad mood then Luigi is left wondering if he'll get sucked into a portrait XD
Bowser/Luigi and alternately Bowser/Mario: after a long day of running a kingdom all they want to do is cuddle in front of a fireplace (Not too close in Luigi or Mario's case) and talk about anything other than work. (Bowser's tail sneaking in and wrapping around Luigi/Mario's middle)
Peach/Mario (Tangled Hearts): Waking in the morning to each other and sneaking in kisses while getting ready for the day before going their separate ways for the day.
Daisy/Rosalina (Tangled Hearts): Watching shooting stars and talking about whatever their hearts desire :)
Peasley/Luigi (Tangled Hearts): Luigi got Peasley into gardening and they would spend time in the gardens sometimes laughing and sneakily getting each other with dirt or worms.
Luigi/Peach (Tangled Hearts): While not a couple I thought I should mention their dynamic anyway :) They like being in the library together, trading stories of things they know as both grew up in worlds very different from each other. Girls' Night was Luigi's idea as Peach wanted a reason for Daisy and Rosalina to visit. The women all agreed Luigi was to have an open invitation as he was the one to suggest it.
Ezra/Kanan: Using the force to 'bump' each other, just knowing that the other is near is soothing.
Klaus von Reinherz/Steven A. Starphase/Leonardo Watch: All three of them in bed watching a movie and having snacks not having to worry about work at the moment :)
Brotein/ Clarice: They're my people watchers, they enjoy sitting together and watching everyone else have fun flitting in sometimes to grab a snack or hug.
Augustine/Quenchy: Using their skills together because creating things together is a fun activity for both of them and Quenchy is always happily reminded when using whatever they made together of the time they've spent together.
Bebop/Leonardo/Rocksteady: Competitive games, anything they can get their hands on because they enjoy pushing each other's limits.
Casey Jones/Raphael: They still sit around on rooftops with a case of beer now and then. Reminising about times they had done so in the past.
April O'Neil/ Venus de Milo: A good movie with wine and sneaky kisses during slow scenes or scenes with kissing :)
Clockwork/Vlad Masters: Hiking, as surprising as that might be. Clockwork enjoys his time away from the tower and Vlad enjoys Clockwork's commentary about wherever it is they are hiking.
Clockwork/Dan: Clockwork takes comfort from Dan watching his back as he watches time, not that he isn't also watching his own back but it's nice to know someone has it.
Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines: They also like hiking much to Bill's surprise. Taking out picnics and just taking in nature. Nothing will bother them after all.
Marinette/Felix: While Felix cannot bake to save his life he enjoys watching Marinette do so and she likes watching him cook. She can cook and they trade recipes here and there.
Marinette/Gabriel: They avoid fashion like the plague unless it's to make fun of costumes in movies. Because both know too much about fashion and the topic has gotten somewhat stale for them. Not to say that sometimes they mention something the other hadn't thought of.
Dracula/Johnny: Watching a sunrise until Drac can't anymore.
#fanfiction#creative writing#my writing#fandom ships#headcanon#I have so many#most have notes written here and there#I never remember all of them lol#I do have to hunt them down though unless actively writing a fic#I have more somewhere#I'll have to hunt them down
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