#swsapphicsao3feed

[femmefighter]

Another bit of sweetness by the darling @rancidsugar

A sketch for my latest one-shot, Living On The Sleeping Tiger's Back.

For Day 1 of @sabineweek - Prompts: Sabine & Ahsoka - Space Tiger

[swsapphics-ao3feed]

WELCOME

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[darthmaclunkey]

Since authors have been revealed, here's a wee promo for my submission to this year's Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange:

Title: Undone Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60996850 Rating: Explicit Fandom(s): Star Wars: Obi-Wan Kenobi (TV), Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order Series (Video Games) Summary: Second commands. Third obeys. Pairing: Reva Sevander | Third Sister/Trilla Suduri | Second Sister Characters: Reva Sevander | Third Sister, Trilla Suduri | Second Sister, Grand Inquisitor, Darth Vader Additional tags: Power Play, Light Dom/sub, Light Bondage, Gloves, Oral Sex, Restraints, nobody is nice, Inquisitor on Inquisitor Action (TM), no betas we die like yord fandar Word count: 5755 Status: Completed

Proud to have posted the 8th Reva/Trilla fic on ao3!! @swsapphics-ao3feed

[torturedpoetskywalker]

to see myself through your eyes

read on AO3

240 wc, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Padmé/Tsabin | Sabé, Pre-Femslash, Female Friendship, G-rating, Alternate Universe - Jedi Academy, part 3 of Star Wars Sapphic Week 2024 (@starwarssapphicweek) and part 1 of @jedijune

Summary: Padmé knows her friend will be a great Jedi someday. Unfortunately, she's not so sure about herself.

[eleventhsister]

we can dive, we can dive deep

Relationship: Barriss Offee & Ahsoka Tano Type: Oneshot Rating: T (for depictions of violence, blood, and injury) Words: 4.5k For: Sapphic Ahsoka Tano Week 2024, Day 3: Warrior, @sapphicahsokatanoweek, @swsapphics-ao3feed Notes: wound-tending (mental and physical); post-episode 5 & pre-episode 6 of tote, post-ahsoka novel, pre-rebels; not exactly besties again, but they are working through it; very early draft for a scene in a larger story

After a mission goes sideways, Ahsoka and Barriss make a dangerous escape from an Imperial-controlled planet. Once in the clear, they have a quiet moment to confront their painful past, reveal hidden scars, and explore the fragile hope of their future.

* * *

“I’m so sorry, Ahsoka. For everything.”

Ahsoka’s mind wanders back to the tribunal all those years ago—the look of anguished penitence in Barriss’s eyes as the Temple guard escorted her away. And of the tight hug she gave her—ambiguous, softly spoken words of apology muttered.

Barriss may have betrayed her, throwing years of trust and companionship out the window in one fell swoop, but she was never a perfidious person. The actions she chose to take may have been unjust, but her heart has always been in the right place, her intentions always noble.

In that moment, Ahsoka truly understands that Barriss was simply lost and shattered beyond reason.

"I know."

[one-with-the-waves]

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Star Wars: Ahsoka (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Shin Hati/Sabine Wren Characters: Sabine Wren, Shin Hati, Ahsoka Tano, Huyang (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Force Bond (Star Wars), Angst, Abandonment Issues, Misunderstandings, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Lesbian Sex Summary:

WolfWren Week 2024. Day 3.

While Huyang focuses on repairing the T-6 and Ahsoka explores the depth of her connection to the Force on Peridea, Sabine finds an opportunity to work on her skills. What she doesn’t know is that she’s destined to find a known enemy every night through the Force, whether she likes it or not.

I wrote a little something for WolfWren Week 2024 Day 3. Thanks for organizing this event @wolfwrenweek

[lefemmerougewriter]

I'm so excited to finally get this out there! I haven't written any SPOP fics for a while and this is my first ever Doctor Aphra fic! I love Entrapta and Aphra as characters, so I thought why not bring them together? Is some of this fantastical? Sure. Did I have fun writing it? YES, most definitely! Already the next two parts are done! I'm so excited to continue this even further...

Update: @astherea and @shellbow, here's the fic! I did wrote some SPOP fics years and years ago (if you are ever interested, its a series called an "Unlikely Alliance Against Evildoers") and a bunch of others. But this is my first fic with Aphra. I have some stand-alone fics too, and I listed them all in a recent post on here.

Update #2: @sapphicstarwars, this fic could be of interest. Also fyi about this fic @queeringstarwars, @starwarsfemslashblog, @queeruscant, @swsapphics-ao3feed (to add to the AO3 feed list), with many more in the works (I have two parts after this written, and many more in the process). I probably should bring together all my *other* sapphic Star Wars fics in a post, but so far, they are only: "High Guardian Space" (crossovers involving Star Wars Resistance and later Star Wars Rebels).

[sokabine]

Sabine and Ahsoka get some personal time together on Peridea.

[celenequinn]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Sabé Characters: Padmé Amidala, Sabé (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, I need theses women to be happy, Sapphic, wlw, POV Padmé Amidala, Short & Sweet Summary:

It was the first time Padmé kissed her. It was the first time Sabé said I love you.

[femmefighter]

This artwork helped fuel a little one-shot called Papaver Rhoeas, full piece can be read on AO3 here.

Gentle, stealthy hands made fast work of unclipping Sabine's greaves before rolling up the flight suit leg. As Ahsoka exposed the knee, they could both see it was an angry red and swollen. Despite the Togruta always having warm hands, they felt cool against the temperature of the injury. Sabine watched the older woman place both hands over the kneecap, and silently prayed to herself that the contact wasn't making her blush. Ahsoka closed her eyes for a moment, and Sabine swore she could feel a soft, tingling sensation mingle through the throbbing pain. After a few moments, Ahsoka turned away, rummaging through the small first-aid backpack she carried on the dismounted mission.

"I think you've done a meniscus tear, Sabine," she explained, pulling out a small can of bacta spray and what looked like a couple of Mandalorian vambraces. "You'll need a proper medical facility to help fix that. I'm afraid the bacta spray we have will only offer a bit of relief. It's best you try not to walk on it." Damn it, Sabine thought. Like hell I'm about to let Ahsoka and the other pathfinders stretcher-carry me back to the T-6. "I can make it back to the ship at least," Sabine offered, but the doubt in her mind laced through her voice and she knew the older woman would pick up on it. "No, you won't," Ahsoka admonished softly as she applied the spray over the offending knee. The pain reduced, and the swelling seemed to subside a bit, but it wouldn't hold up to having her weight put on it. Ahsoka put away the bacta and reached for the strange vambraces, "that's why I brought these." With a push of a button, metal rots shot out from each vambrace, revealing themselves to be Mandalorian rehab crutches.

The look of surprise at the now-familiar devices must have shown on Sabine's face, as she heard the rumble of a laugh from Ahsoka's chest before she spoke. "You're not my first injury-prone, stubbornly bullish Mandalorian I've worked with, Sabine."  Now Sabine really did blush. She must be referring to the Lady Bo-Katan Kryze, she pondered to herself.  She slotted her hands into the thin but sturdy steel, and as her hands found the grips, metal rings appeared around the tops of the vambraces to clasp around her upper forearms, adjusting to her size for comfort and support. Like all good Mandalorian tech, they were self-adapting, and the lengths of the crutches adjusted to Sabine's height automatically. Ahsoka stripped the rest of Sabine’s armour, loading it into her backpack so the Mandalorian wasn’t further weighted down. “Don’t worry, the others will cover us,” the Togruta hushed aside Sabine’s worries at being so exposed. Ahsoka got to her feet, standing over Sabine, a hand still hovering over her shoulder. "Are you ready to try and stand?"

A third nod was given, and Sabine braced herself with the crutches, using them to dig into the ground so her good leg could propel her up and let her bad leg simply come along for the ride. Ahsoka's hands were never far from being ready to support Sabine if she needed it, she was so in tune to sensing where they hovered. She smiled to herself; Ahsoka was letting her be stubbornly independent, but always ready to help if Sabine overextended herself.

It was awkward, trying to coordinate her good limb, her bad limb, and the metal legs of the vambraces. Sabine tried not to wince every time she accidentally bumped her bad leg and stoked the fire under her kneecap. She could feel Ahsoka's eyes on her, and as the other pathfinders gathered the rest of their equipment, Needle relieving Sabine of the entrenching tool she'd borrowed, they started to make their way back to the T-6. The pathfinders spread out, adopting a protective circle around the Mandalorian as they quietly navigated the subterrain of the planet's forest. Ahsoka stayed with Sabine, spacing be damned, and after a while of seeing Sabine wince for more times than the Togruta could handle, she offered an arm for Sabine to lean on.

"Let me help, Sabine," she quietly whispered, so her voice wouldn't travel far enough for the other pathfinders to hear. Sabine only hesitated for a moment, before letting Ahsoka snake her arm through her own. The willingness to let Ahsoka help her no longer confused Sabine, and she relished in the feel of the Togruta pressed into her side as they positioned themselves. They took a few ginger steps together, working out their rhythm, before being able to fall into a steady pace, faster than what Sabine was able to achieve before, and with a lot less strain on her knee.

[femmefighter]

After destroying the Duchess and relinquishing the Darksaber to Bo-Katan Kryze, Sabine Wren is drawn to getting to know the woman she hopes will reunite and lead their people.

Wrote this for Lesbian Visibility Day, but nearly didn't share it further after the first comment it received accused me of A.I. usage. Found such an accusation utterly devastating as I am completely against the use of A.I. for art and writing, and spent weeks working on this piece. So no, there has been no use of A.I. in this fic, both from my side in its writing nor from the wonderful @rancidsugar 's artwork within.

So, my fellow sapphics, Happy Lesbian Visibility Day! Come and treat yourself to some heavy lesbo smut between our favourite mean lesbian, Bo-Katan Kryze, and the colourful darling, Sabine Wren.

[soloorganaas]

STAR WARS SAPPHICS: FEMSLASH FEB BINGO

This Femslash February the Star Wars Sapphics discord server have organised a bingo event!

The bingo card is designed to inspire as much Star Wars femslash as possible. It's open to everyone, whether you're a member of the server or not. This is a fun, low pressure event running throughout February to encourage people to go put space lesbians in situations!

HOW IT WORKS

Use the prompts in each bingo card square to inspire fic/art/gifs/edits. You can combine as many prompts as you want in one work. Cross off each square when you've fulfilled it - the goal is to fill as many lines as possible or the whole card!

There's no minimum word count for fics, and you can share sketches or a single graphic. The AO3 collection will be open for the whole of February, and probably a week or so after for you to add your work.

SHARE YOUR WORK

You can post your work throughout February on tumblr using the tag #swsbingo and add it to our AO3 collection. You can also tag #swsapphicsao3feed for fic to have it reblogged there.

Feel free to save the bingo card and share it as you cross off each square!

STAR WARS SAPPHICS DISCORD SERVER

Our server is a safe space to discuss Star Wars and space lesbians and generally hang out with other sapphic fans. If you're not already a member feel free to contact me or @kleyamarki for an invite!

[torturedpoetskywalker]

looking at you got me thinking nonsense

read on AO3

243 wc, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Jannah/Rey, Femslash, Slow Burn, G-rating, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Master/Padawan Relationship, part 4 of Star Wars Sapphic Week 2024 (@starwarssapphicweek) and part 2 of @jedijune

Summary: Jannah can't focus on Jedi training when Rey looks at her like that, actually, when Rey looks like that.

[btwxsixesandsevens]

My dear OCs, very sapphic, very Star Wars. Have some Zabrak matriarchal culture I totally made up. Why not, it is Friday somewhere.

How to Shed Orat in Four Phases

As observed by a curious human partner.

Tags: Star Wars, Original Characters, Zabraks, Brown Skinned Ppl in Space, Angst (just a little), Fluff (just a little), Worldbuilding, Orat, Horns, Headcanon gone long, One-Shot

Summary: I’m tempted to explain the hell out of this, but I’m going to resist. The tale is the tale with or without the backstory and the inspiration and the noise.

I'll give this:

Star Wars AU, about two Rebellion members.

Arsjami - Brown skinned human woman, cultural anthropologist/journalist/holocaster, lost her leg in the War so uses a repulsorchair/crutches, self-trained Force sensitive with a range of empathic abilities (”gifts”) married to…

Dakatar — Brown skinned Zabrak from a Zabrak colony world, pilot/smuggler

If you want to read more about them, hit the fic: Relics

It’s part a Zabrak cultural study, part ongoing love story, told from Arsjami’s point of view. Happy ending. Always.

All praise and thanks to @sl-walker who gave me this seed to plant and grow. There is happiness in meeting someone who shares your passions. To many happy returns.

“I have to go home,” Dakatar said with a voice rasped with emotion.

I stood in the door way between the front room and the sleeping chamber, leaned against the jamb on my one leg, looking at Dakatar where she sat, slumped on the floor with her back to the bed. Her hair was still wet from the fresher, hung black and straight around her orat, covering her face. She held something in her hands. To say she was the picture of despondency would have been an understatement.

“What’s wrong, my love?”

She shook her head. “Nothing Arsjami. It is time, is all.”

“When you say home, you mean…”

“Birgis system, where my family is.”

“Okay…” I exhaled slowly. I moved along the wall in a few hops, opened my two drawers to look down at my clothes, trying to remember what would fit in among her people. “How long will we be gone?”

“You don’t have to go,” she said.

I chuckled, but didn’t bother to respond.

“You don’t even know why, you haven’t asked why…”

I shrugged, looked over my shoulder at her. She’d looked up finally, eyes bright orange in her dark brown face. There was a subtle pallidness to her skin. Something was wrong. “You’ll tell me why when you’re ready. Do you want me to stay here?” I didn’t try to hide my concern, it would only make her worry that I didn’t care.

She sighed, pushed up to sit on the edge of the bed, but didn’t look any happier. “I want you to come. I was alone last time and…”

“Last time…”

Dakatar opened her palm to show me what she was holding, one of her orat, a small one from the back. Sheared clean off at the base. “It is my season, Arsjami.”

I sat heavily next to her, couldn’t help reaching for the back of her head, for the spot where I knew it went from the shape and curve of it. She didn’t shy from my hands, turned her head so my finger tips could find the circular scar.

“What happened, Dakatar? Your orat come off?”

She chuckled. “You didn’t know?”

“I didn’t…think about it? I thought they just…grew…”

She shook her head ruefully. “First they must be shed. Then they grow back larger and longer, if I am living right that is.”

I leaned close, pushing her hair to the side to kiss the hairless side of her head. I didn’t ask if it hurt, as I knew she’d deny it even if it did. “What do you need your mate to do, I’shuree tai?”

Mother’s grace, the list was long.

Phase 1: The Shedding

My first responsibility was to help her get home. Now that the first one had come off, we had to make it to her family’s enclosure before the last one did. We moved quickly, getting leave from the captain and provisioning the Caiti within the next few hours. We had to save them, the shed orat, so I lined a keepsake box with one of my scarves for the use. They had another name when they were no longer on her head, something like <em>“Dead Blessed Bone”</em>-- taret am’tzela. I touched them gingerly and noticed that the healthy black shine had faded from them, leaving them grey with obvious lines of age.

“How often does this happen?” I asked.

“If I lived on a planet, it would be regular, aligning with the sun cycle or the harvest and hunting cycles. Now,” she shrugged. Everything about the process seemed to come with some shame, some averting of the eyes that I hadn’t quite figured out. “It has been a while since I shed.” She wasn’t yet ready to tell me everything, and experience had taught me not to bother to ask. She’d come to it in time.

Dakatar fasted during the shedding, consuming only broth and water in which the egg shells of birds had been soaked. We stopped at a space station on the way to acquire it. The Zabrak who sold it to us shook his head at me with a thin smile.

“Oenak’oen’alk,” they said. Good luck.

We were a long way off from the Birgis system.

My usually terse Dakatar became downright irritable. The hormones coursing through her body were at their most intense, making her mood brittle, and apparently the process of shedding itched. More than once I saw her absent mindedly wiggling the loose orat, dragging her nails along the base with a hiss of irritation and satisfaction. She refused to let me help.

Refused to let me touch her at all, actually. That was the second thing: abstinence.

“I know it is important to you, tai shan, but, this is not the time, for me.”

“It is not that important, Dakatar. It is just sex.”

It was the first time in many days I saw her usual confident smirk, “the last time we made love, you laid it bed for hours afterwards laughing with the joy of it. It is not just sex.”

“Perhaps not,” I waffled my head, unable to deny how much I loved being in bed with her. “Still, can you tell me why? Is it tradition? To abstain?”

She mirrored my head motion as she thought. “Tradition, yes. I need to conserve my energy so that when all of the taret are gone, they will grow back strong and true.” I wondered at what point did her orat cease to be “orat” and become just “taret” — bone. “But also, I could not do you justice. It isn’t personal. I’m simply…uninterested.”

I reached for her, my hand down her arm to squeeze her hand. “I don’t take it personally. There’s a lot going on.”

“When we get to my mother’s house, I will go into seclusion. So I can mediate on the…a lot that’s going on,” she said cryptically.

Phase 2: The Dark Days

When we landed, Dakatar’s mother and youngest brother were both there to meet us. They greeted me first with the warmth I’d come to expect since we’d married, embracing me and sharing their breath with me. They turned to her with a much more formalized greeting, hooded her, and lead us both to the speeder for a ride home. The family enclosure — so much more than a single house -- was as large and full of people as I remembered. While the enclosure belonged to Dakatar’s mother, Danrat, she shared it with her current mate; Dakatar’s oldest sister Flithar, who was inheriting the place; and her 4 children. Flithar sister had 2 mates. And Dakatar’s two youngest brothers lived there too, one who had his own mate and two children. Eight adult Zabrak and six children, and us. To me it felt like a melee.

Danrat and Flithar bundled the hooded Dakatar off to the back of the house, leaving me to find my way to her old room on the second floor.

I’d almost fallen asleep stretched across her bed when they came back for me.

“Come come, mate of my child, there is much for you to do!” Danrat said in her sharp tone.

There was a lot of superstition around the shedding of the orat. Bad luck that I must promptly be cleansed of. So after a ritual washing in the family bath, a new set of clothes was provided. Then we went to where Dakatar was, behind a locked round door in the back of the house.

“You must seal the door,” Danrat told me. “Here is my daughter’s hakkle. Do you know how to do this?”

I looked at the knife with a familiar hesitation. I shook my head. “No, Loran (mother). Nor what or why…”

“She did not tell you?”

“She seemed…loath to talk about the details. Please…”

Danrat nodded. “My daughter is in transition. She is losing her adulthood and with it her place in society. She will not be ready to take on her place again for many days. During that time, she must wrestle with what she’s done since her last shed, and prepare for the next one. She must soften, atone, feel grief, then harden again for the time to come. It is harder than it should be because she is…out of time…not on schedule. She told me it has been 5 of our years since her last shed. That is a lot of life to wrestle with, especially given the work she does. And you do. You follow?”

“I do, Loran.”

“During this time, she is weak in her own mind, confused, volatile. It is also, as the old ones say, a time of evil spirits and curses, a time when one’s mind can be probed by outside forces. So, by tradition, she is secluded and the door sealed, only to be entered by her most trusted one. Her scent bonded mate, her tai shan.”

“Me.”

“And no one else. So you must seal the door. With your blood.”

“Oh.” I breathed out slowly, looking at the knife she’d handed me.

“You may enter the door every few days, to take her food and water, other things she may ask for. To assist her in any way she requires, to shave her head perhaps, or bathe her as the time comes. But the door should be sealed in your blood when you are not inside. That is the promise, that is what keeps her safe.”

“From spirits? But…”

“No, not just from spirits and imagined things. From real things. You feed her, you clothe her, you care for her, you maintain her business and her status. She knows you are waiting when she emerges and she can pick up her life again. This is about her trust in you. That is why you’re going to cut your hand and make your mark connecting the door to the frame. She will smell your blood and know you stand at the door for her.”

Magic and not magic. Simple but not Easy. Full of intention that anyone could read. I cut the palm of my hand and made an X that crossed the door and the frame. I whispered my love for her into the crack of the door, used the Force to push it through to her, felt her warm light on the other side.

Three days later, her brother took me down to the market with a list. A dozen ebon hawk eggs from the birder, scrap bones and organ meats from the butcher, bandages soaked in itch relieving ointments from the pharmacist. He helped me sharpen her knife to a bright edge and deposited me at the doorway with all of that in a basket and a bucket of hot water and some soap at my feet.

I put my hand flat on the door and pressed my Gift out for her, to tickle the edge of her perception, so when I did open the door, she was facing it, waiting.

My perfect, pristine mate looked a mess. Dakatar was wearing only her chest wrapping and her short pants, her hair unkept and uncombed, piled up at the top of her head. A head no longer crowned with orat. She looked unfinished, the lines of her tattoos ending abruptly at her cakey, dry hair line, the curve of her cheekbones unanswered. She fidgeted as I ferried my deliveries into the room on my repulsorchair. I could see the cracks in her nails, where she’d gnawed them to bleeding. The room reeked of her sweat and blood, of heat and anger and angst.

Neither of us spoke until the door was closed and locked behind me and even then the words were few.

“I don’t like you to see me this way, tai shan,” she said, “I’m not myself.”

“Tai shan, this is who you are, as it is who I am. I’m here to help. What can I do?”

“A wash please, and shave my head.”

I was not prepared for that. My eyes went wide in the dim light. “Your hair, my love?” Dakatar loved her hair, preened and cared for it almost as much as she did her orat.

She nodded, turned away to the far corner of the room that was finished in water-resistant tiles. “I must be bald when the new growth starts. Must be clean to become new. All in one piece though, tai shan, one long braid.”

“As you ask. Wash first.”

She’d lost weight from the fasting. I could feel her ribs under the soapy cloth, could see the curve of her pelvis that usually had a comfortable pad of fat over it. Her cheeks were gaunt, her skin tone ashen. It was the end of the fast, they’d told me. This was as bad as it would get.

She knelt before me and directed me in how to cut her hair with the knife. I did a passable job and she cleaned up the rest her self. We dried her, then she stretched on the bed and let me oil her skin.

“Shall I talk? Make conversation?” I offered.

“Please tai shan. I have missed your voice.”

I told her about going to the market, about finding my way around the house without my crutches or repulsorchair.

“I’m proud of you,” she said. “I was worried it would be hard for you, though I shouldn’t have been. You get on well with anyone.”

“It is I that was worried for you, Dakatar. I wish…”

“I should have told you it was coming. Yes. I didn’t…have the words for it.”

“Do you now?”

Once she was dressed, I curled around her, my face to the side of her neck and hugged her close as she talked till evening.

Phase 3: Growing Velvet

I tried not to count the days. I failed. It was nine days after our arrival when I came to the door with a delivery and faced something new: Dakatar with the shortest, cutest, fuzziest orat ever.

“I feel like a child,” she said, slumped on the bed as I carefully cut the hair short between the buds of her new orat. She wanted to keep her hair short until after the velvet stage. I didn’t understand why.

“Can I touch them?”

“Gently.” She sighed.

I brushed one finger tip up the side of what I knew would be the longest one, making her flinch. The fuzzy orat felt alive, like touching an egg you know has a creature inside. Soft and fuzzy, dark brown with a hint of red and gold as I brushed against the grain.

“Can you feel that?”

“Yes.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Does it feel good? Like when I do this when we make love?”

“No, it doesn’t feel like that. It feels like you’re stroking a wound that is healing.”

I stopped, settled my hand on the side of her head, feeling the new growth of hair. “I’m sorry, Dakatar, I shouldn’t have. You should have told me to stop.”

“Then you’d have just wondered and never known. I know how that bothers you. Now you know.”

“Is this what you looked like? As a child.”

“This but shorter,” she whined, dropped her hands to my thighs and encouraged me to snuggle closer, pressing my chest to her back. I murmured at how warm she was, warmer than usual even, my nose to the back of her neck. She purred in response, a sound I felt in my belly.

“Hmmm, that wasn’t the response I was expecting,” she said softly.

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

“I can smell you, feel your heart beat tai shan. The waiting getting to you?”

I dropped my face, embarrassed, but squeezed my arms tighter around her waist. “It is no secret that I want you, Dakatar. And that I miss you. Even if you look like a child.”

“Thank you, I think. It is good…feels good to know you’re there for me.”

“That’s what your mother said, that you should know I’m waiting for you.”

She just nodded, squeezed her hands again. “I could…do for you…” she put her hand on my thigh, squeezed her thumb on the inside and moved it up. I held my breath.

“No, pelire’ka. We wait together.”

She exhaled then I did, relaxed again into a snuggle without direction or intent.

“I asked your mother if she and your father shed together. She laughed at me.”

“They’d have killed each other locked in here together.”

“That’s what she said.”

“It is considered very bad form, in fact, to mate with someone who has the same season as you. One of you has to be out there.”

“But seasons overlap, yes? In a family?”

“Indeed. My sister and brother have always shed together. I would be close to them, I think, if I lived here.”

“Is it bad for you, that you don’t…shed regularly?”

“I should do it more often. I should be triggering a shed every set amount of time.”

“Why don’t you?”

She cleared her throat. “It is a bother. I didn’t want to…impose.”

I brushed my lips over her shoulder blade. “You are the worst for even thinking such a thing. Am I not your sworn one? Do I not love you?”

“I know tai shan, I know, I just…” she sighed. “I want to be easy for you.”

“This is not hard.”

“You are wasting a month here with me!”

“Wasting? Your brother takes me downtown with him to work and I wander the market.”

“I know you love that.”

“So many treasures! Then I come home and teach your nieces and nephews about distant planets. After dinner I tell folk tales from home and everyone acts like I’ve put on the best holovid they’ve ever seen.”

“We do like a good story…”

“Exactly! Then every few days, I go out to the Caiti and check in, take notes for a recording I’ll do later. I have wasted nothing. And you’re getting…older.”

“I am. I guess. It is heavy, getting older.”

“That is what makes you irritable, I think. Thinking about getting older.”

She nodded. “I had to make my peace with the last 5 years of mistakes. Then look forward to my future.”

“Five years ago, that was when you were away from me?”

“Yes. I shed alone then, in the Caiti. It was awful.”

“Is this better?” I squeezed my arms.

“Yes better. But I should do it more often.”

“How can we make that happen?”

“I can buy a hormone, any Zabrak pharmacy has them. Just pick a time and start taking them, with in a ten-day, the shed will trigger.”

“We will do that then. How long is a year here?”

“About 45 tendays…”

“I’ll set an alarm for 440 days from now. If you’ll take the pills, I’ll mark the door for you.”

“I love you, my star.”

I kissed the back of her neck.

Phase 4: The Revelation

I thought the dark days were bad. Nothing compared to coming into the room and hearing her from behind a screen.

“You don’t want to see this,” Dakatar said.

“Don’t be shy, tai shan. This is the work. Come out.”

She came from behind the screen and I saw blood dripping down her face. I lost my balance, bumped into the door behind me and fell off my repuulsor seat, landing on the floor with both hands over my eyes. A scream held with my lips. Behind my closed eyes, all I saw was her blood. I could smell it, old and caked but still visceral and fertile.

“Mother’s glory, Dakatar. What is…”

“The velvet is coming off, Arsjami. It isn’t…pretty. If you want to leave the food and all, you can go. Come back in a few days when I’m done.”

I shook my head, but kept my eyes closed another minute. “Tell me what is happening, so when I look again, I’ll know.”

“The orat have reached their full length, so now, the protective covering, the velvet has to come off. It doesn’t hurt.”

“It is your blood…”

“The same way your menstrual blood is your blood, yes. Blood that has served its purpose and is now being discarded.”

I took a deep breath and smelled it. That was what it smelled like, menstrual blood. Deep and thick and a little too real. On the exhale, I opened my eyes and looked up at her.

“You don’t have to stay,” she offered again, half heartedly. I pushed up against the door to standing, steadied myself on one leg.

“Of course I’m staying, tai shan. Help me to the bed.”

She took my arm, supported me across the room. “It gets worse,” she said.

“What do you need?”

“Now that you’ve seen it, you’re to taste it.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“I am not.” She settled me on the bed and stepped back before she knelt to my level. “That is the old way, you don’t have to.”

I grit my teeth. “If I don’t, will the bad spirits come for you?”

She almost laughed. “No, that is the tale, but no. Really, it is…it is fertile, productive flesh and shouldn’t be wasted. If we had children, I would share it with them. If I were able to impregnate you, it would be…” she took a deep breath, looking at the space between us. “Something I would offer you as a prayer that it would happen.” This was important, serious. This was the future, a prayer for our future.

“You are offering me, your literal flesh.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Well who am I to say no to that?” I gestured her close and she came. I took her hand and squeezed it, then let her guide my fingers up to her orat, glistening with the drying blood, and the fresh hard bony material underneath. Together we plucked a piece the size of my thumbnail from her head and placed it on my tongue. I closed my eyes and ate it, praying for protection, light, focus, and to not throw up.

The rest of the evening, I helped her clean her head and orat, carefully gently removing all the dead and dying skin to reveal her perfect new set -- longer, thicker, wonderfully pointy in the front with a slight recurve away from her. I understood why she’d wanted to keep her hair short, long hair would have made it an even worse job. Completed, she invited me to stay the night and I did, curled against her chest and dreaming of the future.

The next day we had the lacquer woman in.

The next day, the whole house got ready to meet the new Dakatar, a shed older by their count even if it had been 5 years since they’d last seen her. I waited by the door, trying not to fidget in my slightly revealing Zabrak clothes. When I knocked, she asked me in.

“You ready, tai shan? They are wai…ting…” my voice faded when I saw her. “Mother’s breath,” I exhaled. She looked magnificent, pulled up to her full height, her new orat shone black and clean among the fresh black fuzz of her hair, sharp against her dark brown skin, the black wide lines of her tattoo. She smiled, revealing her canines had been sharpened too. I could almost feel her teeth on my skin. All of that against her bright white shirt and wide legged pants. I could spy the skin of her torso as she walked towards me, lifted me to standing and Swept me up in her arms.

“Hiso et shuree, I’shuree Pelire’ka.”

We hugged tightly, letting our breath align, our smells mingle.

“You look amazing…” I exhaled into her neck.

“Thank you. I feel…amazing I think.”

I pulled back, took her face in my hands and looked at her, she let me turn her head side to side to investigate the lacquerwork. She ran her tongue over her teeth.

“What do you think of this?”

“It is new,” I held myself in check about it. “Why…”

“I’m old enough, I’ve earned them.” She grinned.

I parted my lips to say something, but whatever it was was lost in her kiss, her sharp canines, dragging over my bottom lip insistently as she supported me against her body. Finally, she pulled back, rested her forehead on mine.

“I can smell you,” I said, invitation heavy in my chest. “You want me.”

“I want to drown in you tonight, my love, not come up for air until we’re both wrung dry.”

I growled. “They are waiting for us, for dinner.”

“Yes, we will do that. First…” she let me go with a reluctant purr, “I have a gift for you.”

She left me feeling dizzy with a warm thumping in my belly. I had to think hard to get the words out.

“A gift?” I sat on the edge of the bed and she came back with the keepsake box I’d given her weeks before. She set it on the bed and opened it.

“This is what I’ve been doing with my time.” She lifted out a circle of beads with a short tail that ended in a fluff of material. She puddled them into her hands, then into mine. They hummed with her life force. Each bead was a shades of black and grey, just as her old orat had been as they fell from her head. They were carved with shapes and characters, even animals perhaps. I started to count them by habit.

“There are eighty eight of them.”

“Prayer beads?”

She nodded. “Made from my taret am’tzela, strung on a cord made of my hair. They are the last 5 years of my life. I give them to you.”

The tear came fast and hot to my eye. “Dakatar…”

“As a symbol of our next uncounted number of years. Say you will take them, and use them in good health.”

“I, of course, yes my love, yes.” I dropped my arms over her shoulders and hugged her close. “To our uncounted number of years.” I retreated looking at them.

“All made from your…taret …”

“Taret am’tzela, yes. There are a few more, I made into gifts for my nieces and nephews. And a last few loose ones you can string in your hair, if you like.”

“I will grow side braids, just so I can do so. I would love to.” I grinned, leaned in for a kiss, which she gave. Quick and hot again, her hand to the side of my neck.

“Maybe, before dinner…”

She shook her head and stood, pulling me to standing. “Not here, we’ll go to the bower tonight. Make love under the stars, I’shuree pelire’ka.”

“Yes. I’d like that.”

“Then take me out as the new person I am and introduce me to the world again.”

***

Translations:

Pelire’ka — desired one

I’shuree — my/mine

Tai Shan — bonded mate (permanent spouse as opposed to temporary partner)

I’shuree tai — my love/mate

Orat — Zabrak horns

Taret — bone

Taret am’tzela — shed orat, literally “Dead Blessed Bone”

Oenak’oen’alk — Good luck.

Hakkle — knife

Loran — mother

Hiso et shuree — come here/come to me

[lefemmerougewriter]

My newest part of my "Aphra's Sapphic Escapade Through the Stars" is out... yay! This one brings in Beckett Mariner to the mix. Will we see them together in the future? Maybe? We will see what happens.

UPDATE: @queeringstarwars, @swsapphics-ao3feed, @shellbow, @astherea, @manesetgalaxies, @sapphicstarwars, @queeringstarwars, @starwarsfemslashblog, @queeruscant, @tp9829, @furrysinthematrix, @royaltystudios, @jeffreybrosseau, @kikithefox231, @waffle-wolf-666, part 3 is out!

[femmefighter]

Let's fuck around and find out together, woman!!! First chapter got me WRAPPED!!!!

So, this is actually happening.

The first chapter of my first work is out! Go give it some love c:

The Inquisitorial Order is not as dead as everybody think. She knows it better than anyone. She knows it first hand.

And that is precisely why she cannot sit idly by and wait for a new uprising of the Empire to ravage her people once again and take away the precious life she never knew she longed for.