#snacksverse

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

Please tell me more about snacks on dathomir

you bet! snacksverse is set in a nonspecific time after the clone wars, in an au where maul said fuck this instead of trying to lure obi-wan in to change the nearly hopeless future he saw in his visions. so he goes back to dathomir instead, and really dives in on the crimson dawn stuff instead.

fast forward a bit, and you've got a thriving criminal empire headed by maul, savage, and their returned-from-the-dead brother feral. the good news: everyone's alive and thriving (-and probably committing atrocities)! the bad news is that they can't keep 'staff' to save their lives. so these guys are living like messy bachelors, running missions, doing crime, living off ration bars and bantha jerky.

until posh ass dryden vos decides that enough is enough, and hunts down some very unusual help... hello x reader! you're a chef trained at a prestigious academy on nar shaddaa, with a mandalorian past and a passion for exotic recipes. 🔥🔥🔥

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

quinlan/maul (with obi-wan/quinlan & other bg polyship) - 13k+ words - sith emperor obi-wan timeline ~ in progress

~Chapter three snippet~

Quinlan steps up beside the pilot's seat, holding on to it and watching the displays.

“Sit down,” Maul says after a few moments, pressing buttons in agitation.

“Where?” he asks, bemused. "There's no copilot or passenger seats on a ship this small."

The sith just growls.

“Am I making you nervous, standing at your shoulder?” the kiffar asks.

“You could not make me nervous on the best of days, jedi. Your lurking is merely obnoxious.”

He translates that as ‘yes, you're making me nervous’.

“Ohh, well how about,” Quinlan starts, sitting down on the floor with his back to the console, close enough his shoulder is almost touching Maul's leg. “-this?”

Yellow eyes look down on him as they come out of hyperspace with a small jerk. “You would sit at my feet like a barghest? How little pride you have."

Quinlan smirks, responding to the attempted insult with equivalent bothering. He leans his head on Maul's knee, hooking an arm around his leg. “Does that mean you'll pet me if I beg?”

Maul makes a disbelieving noise in the back of his throat, eyes torn upward as the landing sequence demands his attention. “No.”

friends, i am on my bullshit again (still). it's up on ao3. 👇🏽