𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐅𝐋𝐘? boba’s lips crinkled, eyes glittered with scrutiny. but then memories long buried filtered through the haze of time. nodding slowly, skepticism turned despondent as violent red blades rotated like propellers on a child’s toy, carrying black-clad harbingers into battle.

      imperials and their grey, starchy sleekness. if the men’s previous employer was indeed the culprit, leave it to vader to have such a cancerous sense of humor.

      ❝ lucky us it wasn’t genetic. ❞ said in the direction of where the old bounty hunter last spotted the current iteration of a brooding black cloak.

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 come with an ego. yours had two blades if i remember right, and it spun. ❞ as if the old bounty hunter-turned-mand’alor had any room to cluck about hubris.

It's merely the hint of a smile Elias levels his counterpart with. Were they speaking of anyone else, the mirth would be full and uninhibited, but circumstances being what they are puts a bit of a damper on proceedings.

❝ 𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐎𝐅. seems someone was unaware that buckets and wizards can get along. when they want to. ❞ the jab was not without humor. the whorls on his eroded face alluded to disappointment. with a shake of his head and a resigned chuckle from the plunge of his throat, fett dismissed his rumble of opinions for later.

      too many decades under his belt left very little room for grudges. anger and drive that pumped in his veins had cooled. what boba was left with was a cultivation of patience that would have done him a lot of good in his youth.

@honorhunt / continued for beta. 🎶

at first it was like a game, lifting away so many surgically folded layers of paper. guessing at the purpose and pretending not to know any greater reasons why boba had angled away to practically drape himself over the deck's railing like wet laundry. if she looked deeper, pain would have radiated from the curve of his spine and pricked at her sensibilities. or sounded alarms. it wasn't that she wasn't interested, but her recent and relatively weightless curiosity still lingered fractionally on her lips. to let go so soon felt unfair. 

once the wrapping exposed its treasure buried within, the response was both immediate and nonexistent.

the distant wind in the trees prompting latent falls of snow hushed. butcher paper drifted soundlessly away. out of sight. within her cold now hands lay the memories of warmth suspended in mottled wood and glass.

parasaurolophus.

how many times would she have to suffer the unearthing of what used to occupy her heart? the cave. the beach. the boat. sand, wind, air, solitude, intimacy, secrecy, privacy. honesty.

 ❝  goddammit. ❞

in times ahead she would look back, unable to recall if she'd whispered or hissed.

turning away could not have caused the profusely detailed burden of hearts' truth to become any less intense, yet every survival instinct told her to. frozen flakes covering the solo's deck dampened the two steps she took toward the door then took back to the same indentations as before

running.... she'd tried that before. and it hadn't fixed a thing.

even as her vision clouded, all the remaining control ahsoka possessed howled for tears to withdraw, every modicum of restraint cranked to eleven and yet she could feel the mechanisms fraying with every twist. emotion was inescapable. with a kind of creeping horror, ahsoka tano had to remind herself that feeling wasn't wrong. being too overcome to think was.

there would be no compromises either way; she had to lock the rest of the way down before breaking. get through the evening and remain stiff and solid and reasonable until she could drive home in silence, shut her door in no one's face and pour a heart full of saltwater onto her pillow in her dark bedroom. for someone who preferred everything well lit, from office to lab to midday air, no light could be suffered to reach the still gaping hole where love used to be. the pitted crack in her heart where, far, far down love still lurked at the bottom like a frightened animal, starved, weak, and never bold enough to exit its hiding place yet too stubborn to die. an ever-present necrosis that didn't expand, though managed to remain in a state of suspended rot. like an obedient dog the frozen infection stayed where she commanded: out of sight. if she paid any more attention to it, she'd be sick. frankly, ahsoka had flatly refused to amputate anymore of herself once the first deed had been done.

but she'd played impenetrable for so long. never let the choice get the best of her. never let heartbreak drive a wedge between her good sense and her life's purpose: the very reason she'd ended everything between them, as a matter of fact.

boba had other plans. if the rot of undying romantics really was shared, he'd let it eat him alive in her presence and ahsoka wasn't sure if it was a curse or compliment. 

holding such an objectively priceless effort in her hands, she could almost sense tendrils of warmth crawling through her veins despite brisk december. if she looked under her sleeves, would there would be tattoos appearing, weaving across her skin like vines? boba's fever was spreading from the wood into her blood without a drop ever spilt. damn boba. she used to hope she'd marry him. or wake up in tandem forever next to the coos and calls of the living fossils they had the honor to steward and shepherd. either would have been fine.

make it stop, make it stop. don't you make me weak, too.

all too recently she'd gotten the impression adequate time had passed to make peace with losing one more home. apparently not.

a one handed grip was too risky for a woman hell-bent on keeping the peace. so ahsoka leaned in to the danger, holding the gift just so near boba's peripherals. half safe, half hovering above the sharp drop to gravel below.

the next hiss she remembered vividly.

❝  now here's what you don't get to do: hand this over like nothing changed. what possessed you ——— ❞

unfortunately, she had no choice in how what would have been her next word cracked. sharply enough to force a pause.

maybe she should have tried to invent some kind, any kind, of imaginary conversation the two of them might one day have because this....felt impossible. conversely, it might have been nothing short of hubristic to think she could have anticipated a situation like this.

ahsoka surrendered to the break, drifting parallel to boba's pose and letting her elbows prop her up, forehead coming to rest against aromatic wood and glowing glasswork once more secured in both palms. a long sigh preceded any words that eventually took shape through the fog of upheaval.

𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐃 a different collective of nerve endings each time the wrapping rustled. fett focused on his breathing. his knees ready to buckle, tossing him to the ground like one of those filth-sucking bastards who treated everywhere outside their car like a bin.

      measured in, measured out would’ve worked better if his own blood wasn’t playing drums on his skull.

      fett was terrified to look at her, to witness firsthand her reaction. even a positive yield horrified him, because what was boba to do with retribution? at first it was just his eyes darting back and forth, peeking only the ghost of her outline in his periphery. his spying grew more desperate. fingers trembled, a pulse throbbed in a finger each. his stiff neck felt like it’d crack like an egg as morbid curiosity slowly maneuvered his chin in her direction.

      “ goddammit. ”

      fuck. eyelids squeezed shut, brow creased. that was exactly what he didn’t want to hear. what was the plan if she purposefully dropped it? truthfully, he might ship himself along with it.

      as fett just about collapsed in on himself. more of his weight nursed the railing. a comforting foray into the macabre spared him for a fraction of a second from the real life soap opera he willingly casted him in. fett was an imposing man, but not a big one. still, he wondered if the woodwork was more decorative than defensive. if he leaned any deeper, would the life insurance be split between his daughter and replacing the fucking balusters?

      to his horror, tano joined him on the snow capped perch, the parasaurolophus precariously presented mere meters from the abyss. saliva swallowed in self-soothing cut like serrated daggers down the dry innards of his throat.

      “ what possessed you — ”

      you. always you. i’m selfish. i hope you are too.

      “ beautiful ” was a hot knife to the heart. he felt more fragile than the glass in her hands. ❝ i understand better than you think. ❞ he spoke to the midnight blue. the same shade as the ocean that separated him from the brachiosaurus he betrayed. who died alone and afraid, swallowed by the violent abandonment that was the magnum opus of all his evils. he saw her now in the swirling void beyond the 60-watt halo. not as a phantom, but a solid morph. a gentle titan boba knew all his life. a landmark he navigated by as he fumbled and fumed into manhood.

      like many of her sisters and resurrected counterparts, she’d seen humans as a promise of comfort and care. they made illness go away. made it so she never tasted hunger or thirst or fear. these much smaller beings migrated several times in her life, but always, no matter how many sunsets and rises passed, they returned to keep her safe.

      until they didn’t.

      until he didn’t.

      the matriarch of nublar reared in an attempt to raise her head above death’s grasp. boba listened to her scream as she was entombed in a pyroclastic coffin. a final, sorrowful plea to the sight and scent of a human she recognized as a constant throughout her own life. a guardian she knew protected her in the past, moving further and further away.

      i’m—

      boba’s eyes were on fire. the accusation he thought belonged to a vengeful eidolon was instead the routine nightsong of a surviving sister.

      forcing the treasonous emotions blurring his vision back whence they came, boba cleared his throat and did all the bullshit within his power to avoid sniffling. fett’s monstrous willpower wasn’t enough to accomplish such a feat, so he played it as if it was the cold getting to him.

      now what? what could he possibly say that justified unearthing this particular fossil. fett wasn’t a gambler. he calculated every step, planned for the ambush of variables, and loaded contingencies like bullets, primed to keep him alive.

      so why, as someone who tamed risk into guarantee, did he not plan this far ahead? no, that wasn’t true. boba had imagined what this minefield would look like, but when it came to what it might sound like, any speculation turned to a crescendo of ringing in his ear.

      once boba got it in his head that this was how he’d start his amends, he agonized over the incapacity for prediction. when he wasn’t toiling over his project, boba was stretching his already long work hours thin since he wasn’t getting anything done, torn between dedication and distraction.

      the parasaur. glancing at it, boba steeled himself against the twinge in his chest. he’d been so particular about the exact shade of amethyst glow. countless hours spent with it, now boba struggled to look at it. his eyes trailed back to the hidden horizon. it was a gift he had every intention of following up with a proposal once upon a different lifetime.

      ❝ i considered an olive branch, but i thought you might beat me to death with it. ❞ a joke, mostly.

      sighing much louder than intended, boba’s hands slunk into his pockets. back his neck arched till the bottom of his skull touched the top of his spine. he savored the dark behind closed eyes, his breath a ghost in the freeze. buying time he didn’t have, collecting hieroglyphic thoughts. unable to decipher his own reasons, how the hell could the man offer tano a semblance of adequate.

      ❝ we’re colleagues, again. we’ve kept it civil. watched each other’s backs. guaranteed this place stays a step ahead of disaster. it’s just like old times, except . . . it's all changed. i’m not asking for forgiveness. i’m not an idiot, i know i don’t deserve it. but it wasn’t right, how things ended. deep wounds need real sutures. closure, i reckon that’s the word. ❞

      ❝ i’ve never been good with words. i needed to find a way to say i’m — ❞ regret spread like a disease. infecting his iron fortitude, blistering his stomach lining. nausea clawed like a rotten hand at his insides. the sierras crumbled beneath a stygian tide that rushed around his peripherals. the solos’ manicured deck was a glorified raft, bobbing beneath unsteady legs.

      ❝ sorry. ❞

      thirty years must’ve passed since boba last uttered that insignificant word. probably to appease a very upset mother. ❝ so sorry, ❞ it dissolved on his tongue, leaving him breathless. ❝ but that word’s just not good enough. ❞

      what worth was a sorry weighed against the bodies of terrified creatures driven into the sea. or the six kids he could have spared months of duress if he disobeyed the shadowy cheques that fed his bank account.

      sorry didn’t spare the matriarch the anguish of her flesh melted from her splintering bones. devoured alive by molten terror and tephra, returning her to stone.

💬 a kiss given between ocean waves. / @honorhunt

rising early had never proven difficult in ahsoka’s early years. nor did they in adulthood and ahsoka found herself grateful for it. most of the time. her chosen profession did require criminally long hours which often meant trading quality rest for productivity. caffeine in any form was her gasoline, though she took care to ensure water was never far behind, and when she could sleep, she slept. hard. resurfacing from repose that deep had become uncommon enough that ahsoka ran the risk of not knowing where she was upon waking. not even her own small apartment was safe from that phenomenon. mostly owing to how little she used the place, preferring her office futon - written off unasked with a wink by claire - or the breakroom of a research outpost. 

lately, though, there was another option she took advantage of whenever the opportunity presented itself. sleep came easy there, and not just because of the way the rising sun bounced off morning waves and the breeze carried sounds of quadriped munching and cries of wandering herds from high up the mountain. ahsoka didn’t tell him often enough, but it was the company, too. 

the blinks bouying her to wakefulness in the houseboat were slow but luxurious. long, flat clouds blurred rays of sunshine every few minutes and left the air warm and pleasant. her position was almost too comfortable to check the time on her phone, but curiosity won out in the end, especially since boba didn’t seem awake quite yet.

mornings such as this were usually the kind that kept her stationary and savoring every moment she could watch boba still and at peace. and for good reason. ahsoka had her suspicions that they both behaved similarly when calling slow mornings in the houseboat theirs. after all, those languid hours were precious chances to remember they were still human and could indulge in human joys from time to time. slow waking could still be precious today, even after ahsoka decided it was also perfect for a quiet swim. 

regardless, she leaned gently on her propped elbow to remind herself how boba looked without so many intense focus lines on his forehead. he would always be handsome no matter the state he was in, but something about ten years disappearing from his expression was a marvel to observe. young as the two of them still were, their age hadn’t caught up to their experience. and because of it, she treasured every excuse to see him so peaceful.

ahsoka took immense care not to rouse him as she gingerly slid from between the bedsheets and padded to the adjoining bathroom. there, she made prompt work of twisting her curls up into knots away from her forehead and neck and small enough to fit under her swim cap. her swimsuit she slipped from her overnight duffel for a quick change that would make stage performers jealous. the next feat would be tiptoeing across the rest of the small house and out onto the bow porch without the boat announcing her every move. 

she did alright making it to the railing, as it turned out. the noise of diving would undo all her work so ahsoka passed on it for the moment, choosing instead to hoist herself over the bow to slip from there into the water.

perfection. 

this early in the morning, the water was cool enough to be refreshing, not jarring. faint birdsong accompanied the liquid music of freestyle strokes that took her from the houseboat further toward the center of boba’s cove. ahsoka could still smell the heady mixture of wood and wet leaves and clay from where she stopped to tread water. an aroma that only intensified her gratefulness. 

her job was demanding. demanding and stressful and near constant no matter the hour. work-life balance was unattainable for most, even on holidays. it was labor day today and she’d elected to make it a half holiday instead of a full one, reserving the other holiday hours for a day she might need them more. but ahsoka couldn’t imagine herself in another position or doing anything else. the moments of relaxation she managed to steal only made the long hours easier to survive.

boba was much the same from what ahsoka could tell. like her, he’d been surrounded by the living past his entire life and to be away from it was almost anathema. although, he sometimes behaved as if being human was a suggestion. they both needed to slow each other down every once in a while. 

but of course it didn’t take long for the water to whisper to her signs of life from inside the boat. she’d left her discarded nightclothes and open duffel in plain view for him to see once he noticed her immediate absence. ahsoka smiled, pivoting in lazy paddles so her back was turned to the beach. a minute passed, then another.

not long now.

a splash punctuated the silence, followed by sloshes made by smooth strokes across the ocean’s surface. her back still turned, ahsoka waited, closing her eyes and picturing the distance between her and the swimmer shrinking gradually until – 

wake sloshed over her shoulders and she turned to pounce through the water and grab onto boba, pulling them both under the briny surface. a colony of bubbles rose around them to tickle whatever skin they touched on the way meet the air again. stinging salt water pulled ahsoka’s eyes open despite the momentary discomfort. just barely, she could make out a brown face in the sparkling, shadowy depths and aimed her forehead toward his. the contact was minimal and clumsy, but enough to signal her teasing. she hoped her waterlogged laugh was just as clear to his ears. 

ahsoka released him shortly to pop up for breath. once he followed, the laughter continued almost automatically as she slung her arms and water droplets around his shoulders. 

somehow, boba's warmth transcended season and water-borne chill. like it was innate to his very being. so close to it, ahsoka became a heat seeking missile and dragged herself closer as if magnetized. powerfully enough that she clung tighter to his neck, feet still kicking along for support, and pressed her lips to his. soon enough the heat between them rendered the cool temperature of the water null, and even the gradually growing waves coming from further outside the cove couldn’t dull it.

at first the embrace was soft, luxurious in its slow pace, but ahsoka didn’t see the point in containing herself when there was no one to see. she hiked one leg over his hip and folded like wet paper around him. 

there was nothing here in this isolated inlet but them and the sounds of the birds and their beloved prehistoric wildlife chittering miles away. empty but for the smell of the beach, the clatter of waves on sand and driftwood. the way boba’s wet hair felt between her fingers and his warm skin melted every part of her. it was fun, she decided from a great distance, to be weak. to divert from plucking at his lips to pressing a kiss his cheek and nose and backtracking to his lips again. to linger against his forehead for respite and let out a breath of laughter. she’d return to kicking to keep them afloat in a moment but until then, wrapped by waves against the roughly-edged man that had charmed her beyond all reason, it seemed natural to imagine both a neverending present and a future at the same time. her thoughts knit together images of nothing but boba’s presence a hairsbreadth away while contented days filled with working side by side no matter the exhaustion and stress stretched out in front of them. as practical as ahsoka tano was, she could still dream. 

when she pulled back with a small grin at last, searching for the depths of boba’s eyes, the dreams didn’t stop. more accurately they grew, ballooning into words she might one day have to tell him if they grew much larger. 

though, tantalizing as oncoming days might be, there was no harm in dwelling right where she was: with him in so closely in reach. they had the entire morning to hoard like gleeful pirates, and ahsoka would in fact hoard the sight of every shimmering water drop that trickled across boba's torso.

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐎. the anchor that kept him harbored long enough in his bed to realize just how plush were his pillows, how crisp the sheets, or how the mattress cradled the contours that constantly occupied his attention so perfectly. what use was there in denying her devastating effect on him. a slippery slope of flirtation yielded to a landslide. now the satisfactory solitude of a man who made no distinction between his career and personal life was irrevocably spoiled.

      ancient lullabies and tidal hymns were no longer adequate companions. during nights without her, boba knew no peace. hours stretched past their natural length, defying the tick of the vintage analog smothered by the towers of masrani-backed hardcovers collecting on his desk. quiet festered into thunderous silence. a wound that made him itch and fidget, forcing him to pace the houseboat in search of the source of his disquiet. a disquiet boba refused to name her absence out of a hermit’s pride.

      any attempt to sleep when they were apart was an exercise in futility. rustling fabric accompanied egregious tossing and turning. covers were flung off then replaced. tossed, then retrieved until boba surrendered to a book light in an attempt to make use of idle. which only served to frustrate him more when the man realized he’d read the same sentence fourteen times because his thoughts insisted on drifting to the lack of ahsoka beside him.

      tano. damn her, she ruined him, and he was completely and utterly in love with it.

      when they were together, boba dreamed. dreamed of things other than teeth and spent shells. it was the morning after their first elope from professionalism where boba discovered what rest actually tasted like. closing his eyes with arms enveloped around her, boba sunk into the depths of an alien world far stranger than the crushing black of the ocean floor.

      ahsoka introduced him to the tranquility of nothing. an acquaintance he never expected to make even in death. he assumed only with cremation, the total incineration of every solid material that made up his existence and he was little more than decorative dust, would boba experience the euphoria of fuck all.

      boba actually resisted the call of responsibility when she called his sanctuary hers for the night. resistance he never surrendered to, but on a reckless amount of occasions was boba tempted to ring up wu or dearing. to encourage them to pound bedrock so he could stay in bed and do nothing ( or something ) for the day. ignoring that he was integral to reducing the chances of a family vacation devolving into the end of a bloodline.

      last night, boba was tempted to be the bane of a busy day. with midnight came a labor day, one of the many that littered the company’s international calendar. and in honor of the holiday, boba thought to steal masrani’s top talent away from her workload. but he’d gotten himself distracted, as he usually did around said talent, and missed the chance to tease her with the idea. and any chance to disappoint leadership came and went with the woe of sunrise.

      instead, he slept still as stone. sunken into his off-white silhouette. stirred from the comfortable fathoms of cotton only because the radiance beside him drifted away. a slip of awareness lazily pursued her to the edge of the bed, then stopped, lulled by the still-warm impression that befuddled it.

      the slip blinked again, vaguely aware of a soundless tread through the room. the rest of boba was slow to follow. only when the bedspread cooled sufficiently was he convinced that ahsoka was gone.

      an involuntary spasm woke him. lids parted for a heavy, yet calculative squint. boba propped himself on forearm, taking in the room. dappled sunlight laid like gossamer curtains across the bedspread. singers from the jungle enshrining the cove and the distant aviary reminded him he had functioning ears.

      boba shook off the seductive shackles of the sheets. he found ahsoka’s clothes abandoned, still warm. mischief replaced the grog as he mistook the invitation for a different sort until his keen senses detected movement in the water bordering his home.

      the mischief remained as boba tracked ahsoka to the deck and found her swimming beyond reach. his first instinct was to backtrack, sneak around to a covered shoreline and surprise her. not wanting to disturb the relaxed mood, he reconsidered. for a moment, boba’s lips parted, her name half-formed when he stopped himself, suddenly aware of the sanctity of the scene.

      no mistake, ahsoka tano’s intensity was intoxicating. whether she was absorbed by her work in his company or passion-deep in a conversation. enrapturing too was the way that intensity melted into a uniquely she brand of bliss when they were alone together. but witnessing the harmony she was feeling with just herself was a more sublime discovery than man’s wresting of extinction from god’s plan.

      damn, she really did outshine the sun. the comparison, in fact, was far too humble. he needed to tell her that more, how beautiful she was. boba just had to figure out how.

      a soft smirk gentled him. his brow unfurled as he leaned against the rail to watch her for as long as possible. he absorbed the way the water moved around as if ahsoka swam among a thousand shimmering diamonds. couplings of bluegreen chromis and purple queens flashed beneath her like sunken gems, startled but undeterred by the bipedal dancer exploring their stage. a sluggish bullethead nearly bumped into her leg, only veering off in a sudden spook. amusement melted boba further. his chin came to rest on a calloused palm as he continued to spectate what wouldn’t last much longer.

      the magic of the scene was destined to be brief. besides, he was expected and entertained no desire to keep her waiting.

      with unusual abandon, boba plunged into the pacific. even under the tropical sun, the deepest and largest of the earth’s oceans maintained a proud nip. the electric current chilled his skin as his vision darkened blue. lead by a chain of bubbles, boba kicked back to the surface and crossed the turquoise distance in perfect butterfly strokes where he found ahsoka waiting.

      the mischief dismissed before returned with impish vigor but boba was immediately outgunned by her ambush.

      boba’s taken aback ack! was submerged with the rest of him as his anchor did as anchors do. deeper into the shallows they went. an eruption of bubbles blocked his view of her but her very literal bubbly giggle was pure clarity.

      enticed, he matched her ascension, breaking the water tension a fraction of a moment behind her. boba tried to school his expression straight but the farce proved impossible. his mouth wouldn’t let him, lips refused to flatline let alone dour. and while his chuckle was quieter, resonating from his chest, it was no less honest than hers.

      ahsoka’s arms went high, his went low, finding a utopian curve to wrap around. he squinted through the briny drip that stubbornly clung to his lashes, enduring the prickle so as to not waste a single moment to look at the siren in his arms.

      as they bobbed in the dichotomy of brisk and heat, boba answered her hope with a prolonged kiss. at its end, he kept her close, blurring where she ended and he began as he pressed his forehead to hers, counting the slow rain running off their skin to return to the mother marine.

✖ @honorhunt - nominated by @paramounticebound

H A C K E T T !!! in a single word: quality. Literally everything you do is so aesthetically pleasing that I just eat it right up. Just like your freaking writing omg ! the fact that you completely built up a Tolkien verse that is so detailed that now it’s just canon in my mind will forever be an inspiration. It’s been at least a year since I read through it and I’m still in awe ( & I need to do that draft omfg ). I won’t lie, I was 100% intimidated by you, and I still kinda am because you are one of my favorite writers, (*ring, ring* hi yes dave? No one except hackett is allowed to write boba now sorry not sorry, bye ) but you are also the sweetest ! I seriously cannot wait to write more with you and dig into the angsty trash pile together <3