Work Text:
Ventress studies herself in the fresher mirror, tracing thoughtful fingers over the ropey muscles, the scars new and old. She presses a finger to one of the small, distinct bites on her neck, pressing just hard enough to hurt.
Her body is dotted with bite marks, now that she thinks about it. They adorn her wrists and ankles, her shoulders and breasts, her thighs and hips. They're a vivid red against her pale flesh, the color putting her in mind of the roses that grow on her home planet.
"Somebody's been working out their aggression," she calls pleasantly through the open door. "I look like I've been in a fist fight with a meat grinder."
Ahsoka mumbles something from where she's still in bed, face shoved into the pillow with her lekku just barely peeking out from under the blankets. It sounds suspiciously like, "oh, kriff off."
And, well, she has a point--it's not like Ventress wasn't moaning at Ahsoka's teeth in her thigh last night. The little minx may be younger than her, but she's got Ventress' number.
A few of the bites have tiny drops of blood crusted at their edges. Ventress' skin is tougher than a human's, but Togruta teeth are so very sharp. Ventress fell in love with Ahsoka watching her rip out men's throats with those teeth.
She scrapes at one of the worst bites with her finger, savoring the crisp flare of pain. A fresh drop of blood runs down her thigh, glistening in the dull light. Ahsoka had still had blood on her tongue when she shoved it up Ventress' cunt last night.
On Dathomir, roses are grown over graves, meant to soothe the dead with their beauty and shield them with their thorns. The roses that sprout from Ventress' skin, on the other hand, are reminders that she is alive. As a punishment and a benediction all at once.
As a child in chains, she used to do this with the bruises her master left on her body. It stirred her weary, hollowed-out body back to life, kept her shambling through the next miserable day. It purified her, cleansed her, wiped her sins clean. Later on, she tried to get drunk off of others' pain instead, but it never quite cut it.
And now...well, now she has her Ahsoka. She doesn't submit, at least not right away, but neither will she complain when the fangs come out (and they always do). Ventress isn't sure if it's part of Togruta biology or simply Ahsoka being her raw, broken, furious self.
Ventress reaches up to the largest bite on her neck and pinches it, twists with a soft grunt of effort. She remembers Ahsoka grabbing her there and shaking her head, sending Ventress flopping around. She could have broken Ventress' neck if she wanted, or simply chewed through to the artery.
Yes, her sweet little ex-Jedi has grown so much since they first stumbled upon each other in the months after the war. It brings a proverbial tear to Ventress' eyes, really.
They'd been united by a common desire for blood--well, in the beginning Ahsoka had pretended to be interested in stuff like justice and honor, saving those poor little clones and tracking down her fellow Jedi. And while she'd made some progress on those fronts, yes, Ventress had seen her bloodlust the first time they fought together. She's got Ahsoka's number, too.
Ahsoka's gotten more obvious about it as time went on, especially after they reconnected with Obi-Wan and learned the fate of her poor, foolish master. That was the first night they'd spent together in a drunken, bloody haze. Ventress had taught Ahsoka so many little lessons, and the girl had run with it.
She's got a bit of a sadist in her, that one. She tries to keep it leashed on the battlefield, but in the bedroom all bets are off. That's why Ventress had so generously kept her around for a repeat performance after the first night.
It's probably not love, what they have. It's certainly not happiness. But Ventress thinks it's the kind of strange, bloody madness she could get used to.
She tilts her head, feeling blood drip down her neck. Ventress catches a drop on her finger and tastes it, savoring her own pain.
"Stop that." She turns to see Ahsoka sitting up in bed, blankets falling off to expose her breasts. She casts a critical eye over Ventress' roses. "You're going to make yourself sick."
Ventress raises an eyebrow. "Carefully, Tano. You're starting to sound like you care."
Ahsoka rolls her eyes, beckoning with an idle hand. "Get over here."
Ventress cocks her head. She's across the room in an instant, hands flying for Ahsoka's throat. But the brat bears her wicked teeth and the shine catches Ventress off guard, giving Ahsoka enough time to grab her wrists and twist her into the mattress.
She growls low in her throat, a predator capturing her kill. Ventress grunts in her grip, chest heaving, but she's smiling. Ahsoka descends upon her in a swirl of seeking hands and grinding teeth.
Ventress feels fresh roses woven into her skin, the thorns cutting her deliciously. The fresh blood in her nose is the sweetest perfume.