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aftergloom · 6 months

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20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @thegreatwicked! This is my main — @thenightmarketofdathomir is my sideblog (and I usually do these tag games over here.)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? Twenty one. Have deleted as many in as many years, probably.

2. What's your total A03 word count? 740,975. I had this horrified moment as I was tallying… what if my current WIP (not live) has a bigger total than everything else that’s up as of today? (It’s not. I’m not sure if I’m relieved because this thing is shaping up to be a trilogy.)

3. What fandoms do you write for? Stah Wahs

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Kudos in ratio to chapter, orrrr just the volume? Some of them are shit and I pretend they don’t exist anymore so I’m not going to list them. They’re like bad dreams. That shit never happened I don’t care if it took 38 chapters. And I’m not counting the Nightmarket because it’s a hundred and eighty one-shots lumped together.

Somebody's gonna have a bad time by nxctuary (Opress Bros x Reader)

Drown Me in You by nxctuary (Mermaid!Maul x Reader)

The myriad applications and multiple uses for a Corellian HWY-280 class fresher. Article 342: One locking door. by nxctuary (Feral x Reader)

The Collector by nxctuary (Maul x Reader)

The Ritual by nxctuary (Maul x Reader)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Depends on a couple of things that aren’t always consistent, and often if I don’t reply it’s because the comment broke me. (I often will reply, but I’m like a cryptid — expect me to pop-up without warning six months after you’ve left a note.) It’s often someone saying something nice, my inner self-hatred seeing it and going, “LIAR!” And then taking six months to convince myself that I just can’t take a compliment when negotiating my own imposter syndrome.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Ah that’s… hm. I don’t think I’ve killed anyone lately.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Everyone gets a happy ending. Even if it’s a little twisted. I like horror endings, you know? The kind that, on the surface, appear as if everything’s actually going to work out for the better but there’s a single drop of darkness left on the page that implies everything can be lost at a moment’s notice.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Narp.

9. Do you write smut? Yarp.

10. Do you write crossovers? Just once. Let’s not talk about it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Better not have. I’ve had multiple pieces plagiarized partially, though. In really hilarious ways (to me, at least) because there’s nothing like borrowing a turn of phrase said to you IRL (while you were sleeping with the person who said it), giving those words to Maul as he speaks them to the Reader character, then finding someone else pulled out several lines of the same dialogue to use in their fic without permission. Maybe don’t do that. You don’t know where this stuff comes from, and you definitely don’t know what I was working through when I wrote it. Awkward.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I remember. (Maybe once in X-Men? I've had work turned into podfic, though.)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Feral and Kai? Do OCs count?

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Nothing is ever finished even if it’s finished. I don’t understand the question. /j

16. What are your writing strengths? I show up every day and I do the work. Even when it sucks and when I hate it. I do the work.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? If I don’t have a clear overview of how a scene is going to play out (or especially the layers of an argument between the characters — what they’re saying VS what they really mean, what they’re withholding, what the reader knows but they don’t, etc) I will spin my wheels and fill up a page with setting description to avoid making a bulleted list of what’s actually happening so I can get to the point. Then edit it twelve times later like hacking away at a hunk of marble trying to get to the good bits.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Doesn’t bother me. There are circumstances where the jist of the conversation carries regardless, and if not, I’m assuming the writer’s offering a translation either in-text or as a citation. I mean, if you want to get granular about it, then start asking does doing that serve the story and what does it add, or does it detract, but that’s a situational thing and I think you need to experiment a bit to learn what works in context.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter. Draco/Harry. I was baby.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Archangel (unreleased). Heartsong (unreleased). Crown of Motherfucking Horns (current WIP). CoH my heart. CoH beloved. CoH my baby.

Tagging (no pressure): @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @grinningnexu @sinisterexaggerator @inquisitorius-sin-bin @umber-cinders @graaaaceeliz @not0a0mundane and anyone else who wants to play :)

#tag game #on writing #Darth Maul x Reader #Feral Opress x Reader #Savage Opress x Reader #Opress Bros x Reader #that polyfic follows me to this day istg #Maul x Reader #Maul x You #Feral Opress x You #Savage Opress x You

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dathomirdumpsterfire · 5 months

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~Snacks of Dathomir Snippet~

You grab your buy'ce off the counter and snag one of grandpa's knives in a reverse grip, then you go to check out that noise.

There's a body on the stairs.

With all due caution, you lean out a bit and call, “Hello? Are you dead?”

“Mnnggg,” the body replies. Oh good, still kicking.

“Are you one of the Opress brothers?” you ask hopefully.

“Ngh?” they reply, turning to squint blearily up at you.

It's a man, or male looking at least. Horned. Tattooed. Average height and build. Yellow, with a smidge of orange. Hot as fuck, honestly.

“... messare Feral?” you try. That was the youngest one, right?

“Yeah,” he manages, pupils two different sizes. “Fff- nng. You?”

“I'm your new chef, uh, nice to meet you… do you want help getting to medical?”

Probably-Feral flops back down onto the stairs, and mumbles something inaudible with a tone of supreme annoyance.

[Light hearted & spicy / Learn some mando'a / Cooking recipes / Non-specific 'you' protag / Nonserious fluff / Nightbrother culture]

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eldritch-horror-from-the-void · 7 months

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💌Request Rules & Notes💌

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

I mostly take requests for our three favorite Zabrak brothers!

Gender neutral!Reader is the default, but if you want a Fem!Reader, or Masc!Reader, specify!

!Important note for NSFW asks!: I really only write Submissive!Character x Dominant!Reader dynamics if kink is involved, so please keep this in mind if that's not your jam! We need more Dominant!Reader fics out there anyway, lmao.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Solid-no lists below cut, along with a "fuck yes" list. Outside of the "no" lists, everything else is on the table!

This may be updated in the near future.

Trigger warning for mentions of heavy subjects below.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Absolutely no subjects/stuff such as:

Yandere/stalker behavior.

Terminal illnesses (I will fuck up when writing this, I'm sorry-)

Active or threatening abuse (such as: the character threatening the reader.)

Sexual assault.

Abortions (not against them, just don't want to write for those situations.)

Self harm of any kind (depression, anxiety, etc. in general are okay!)

Any prompt that supports anti-human bigotry.

Pedophilia.

Extremely gory details.

Bodily fluids (semen or blood are the only exceptions.)

Ddlg/mdlb.

Ageplay.

Raceplay.

Drugging, somnophilia (or any other kind of consent non consent.)

Cheating.

De-trans, feet, fat fetishes (or any other fetishes.)

Incest (is this considered a fetish???)

Will only write it if I'm in the mood:

Major character death

Y E S please ask for this!💗:

Domestic/fluff of any kind.

Kinks such as: breeding, dom/sub, pegging, collars & leashes, overstimulation, edging & teasing, bondage, begging, adult toy play, praise, and more! (If you're not sure about your ask being okay, just send it in anyway!)

Hurt/comfort.

Pretty much everything outside of the nope list!

#star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #maul opress #savage opress #feral opress #💌request rules💌

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shyranno · 2 years

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You made the cpr x Reese’s puffs x misery thing with the opress bros and it was actually the greatest thing I’ve ever experienced, Feral’s my fav, just wondering if you could do just, a lil doodle of him because he makes my brain make the happy chemicals, he’s so cute

Thank you for liking that lil thing! Hehe it was really fun to make! <3

Here's a doodle of your boi~

#ask #feral opress #tcw #star wars #fan art

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eloquentmoon · 2 years

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sonnet 29 - savage x gn!reader

summary: modern au. gn!reader. when savage finishes a late shift at work, he comes home and reads to you, as he usually does - but the content of the text that he chooses tonight resonates with him in a deeply personal and profound way. features sonnet 29 by william shakespeare. pairing: savage opress x gn!significant other!reader cw/tw: domestic fluff that snowballs into angst. hurt/comfort. grief, insecurity, envy, mention of manipulation, sickness and abuse. happy ending. word count: 2.2k a/n: thank you candy + kima for beta-reading! this was inspired by prompt 6 of this list: ‘reading to them late into the night.’ this is purely self-indulgent: i love shakespeare and i want savage to read to me. i also hated how savage had no time to acknowledge or process the death of his brother feral, and that we did not get to see the extent of how maul's madness and his mother’s terrible behaviour affected him.

Sonnet 29 - [Read on AO3]

The weather outside is wet, grey and cold, and peppers your bedroom window with the delicate pitter-patter of rain song. The bare branches of a nearby tree are encouraged closer by a whistling autumnal breeze, and frequently knock against the glass. The howl of said wind is a muted, soothing backdrop to both of those gentle tapping sounds, and the trio of noises are a grounding comfort as you awaken from your dreamless sleep. The flickering glow of candles drapes your bedroom with an incandescent cosiness, the light so pleasant and warm, perfect for your now sensitive, sleepy eyes. You roll over, leaning across the cold and unslept-in side of your double bed to grab and then squint at your phone, which reads 4:13am. Perfect. Savage will be home any moment now, so you won’t bother trying to get back to sleep. You smile softly and sit up with a yawn, stretching your arms out into the cold air, before quickly pulling them back into yourself and the sanctuary of the warm bed with a shiver. You turn onto your side and curl up, nestling beneath the duvet and fluttering closed your tired eyes to rest them as you patiently await the tell-tale squeal of the elevator from down the hall - the sound that will indicate Savage’s imminent arrival.

As if right on cue, you hear the softened screech of the lift, and then the muffled thud of large feet padding closer. The lock of your apartment door then clicks, and you cannot help but grin as you listen to Savage try in vain to be quiet, shuffling around in the small hallway in the darkness, no doubt knocking his horns into the lampshade that hangs from the ceiling. Being as large as he is, Savage still struggles with residing in a building that wasn’t designed for someone of his size, which, though frustrating for him, is endlessly endearing to you. You quickly decide to let him know that you’re awake before he breaks anything in his attempts to prevent rousing you. “Savage,” you call out, your words laced with sleep. “I’m awake.”

He turns on the light in the hallway then, and makes his way to the bedroom. “What are you still doing up?” he asks softly as he appears in the doorway, ducking beneath it to enter the room. He steps closer and drops his keys to the bedside table, and leans down for a kiss. As you peck his lips, you notice that his yellow skin is cold from the weather, and raindrops linger on his tattooed cheeks. He smells like the nightclub he works for, that cheap booze mixed with the ashy remnants of other people’s cigarette smoke - but beneath that there is still the intoxicating goodness of his natural scent, a musky richness that never fails to make your head spin.

“I was just so excited for you to come home,” you whisper against him.

His lips curve into a muted, amused smile and with a final kiss, he then pulls away to the wardrobe. He shrugs off his jacket which is damp from the rain, then grabs a hanger. It’s a black double-breasted topcoat that was tailor made to fit his unique large frame, and you always think that it makes him look so smart and stylish. “Tea?” he asks as he hangs it up. You cannot help but grin at his offer, knowing that he is once again beginning the early-morning ritual you always share when he works late.

“Chamomile please,” you respond.

“Of course,” he says softly. “So how was work?” you ask, sitting up again, rubbing your groggy eyes as he makes his way from the bedroom to the kitchen.

“Fine,” he replies back, but you notice that his tone is slightly dejected. You hear him fill the kettle with water and switch it on. Then he pokes his horned-head around the doorway to say, “But all the better now it’s over, and I have come back home to you.”

You smile at that comment, but before you can reply he has disappeared again. You can hear the sound of him traversing the tiny kitchen, cupboards opening and closing, clinking mugs and teaspoons, the bubbling rattle of the kettle. Then he returns - two cups of steaming tea in his grasp, one in each hand: he makes them look like shot glasses with how large his fingers are. He passes you your tea, and you gratefully accept, holding the cup in both of your hands, pleased for the warmth that it emits.

“No sugar,” he states. “And in the cup with the smiling little tooka on it.”

“Just how I like it,” you reply with a soft giggle. “Thank you, love.”

Savage smiles at your gratitude and places his mug on the table, then kicks off his shoes. You watch him closely, noting how much you like his work attire on him, how sharp and dapper he looks: he wears all black, a crisp shirt that, as most of his clothes do, appears the slightest bit too small for him. No tie tonight, a leather belt with a simple silver buckle, and fitted trousers that show off the shape of his thick legs wonderfully. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him wear his work clothes, what with him having time off due to the events of the past few months.

“How are you doing?” you ask softly, tucking your legs beneath you.

He sighs as he then falls back into the old armchair across from the bed, which is situated next to the bookshelf. He spreads his legs and rests his thick forearms on the fraying armrests and briefly closes his eyes, shaking his head. “It is…strange. Being back at the bar again,” he admits hesitantly.

“What’s strange about it? Talk to me,” you insist, a spike of worry unfurling in your chest.

“Seeing people…laughing, dancing, celebrating. As though nothing terrible has happened.” He opens his glowing eyes to look at you then, and his face softens with grief. “I still can’t believe that he’s…gone,” Savage says wistfully.

“Me either,” you reply.

A pause. “He really liked you.”

The absence of his brother has haunted Savage since the day that he died four months ago, and you know that the weight of responsibility that Savage bears for Feral’s passing will always sit heavy on his shoulders. It is not helped by the fact that his family has crumbled in the face of such loss, what with his other brother Maul’s sickness and his Mother’s total apathy and indifference to both of her son’s pain. It has been heartbreaking to witness.

Savage takes a deep breath then, exhaling with a pensive sigh. He then plucks his small pair of wiry reading glasses from the bedside table, seemingly keen to move on. “So what are we reading tonight?” he asks as he perches the spectacles on his nose. Late night reading sessions by candlelight have always been a part of your routine together. It’s always a highlight of your day, stealing these precious moments after Savage finishes his shift, indulging in each other’s company before the sun’s rise and your departure for your own job. And since Savage had to take time off of work, you both kept up the habit. Comforting him and distracting away the sleepless nights with stories of faraway people and places, getting lost in fictional worlds together to cope with the tragedy of Feral’s death and Maul’s suffering.

“I was thinking maybe a poem or two tonight,” you reply, grabbing one of the tattered books that litter the wooden floor by the side of your bed, then reaching over to pass it to him. “Maybe a sonnet?”

“Which one?”

“Dealer’s choice.”

He flicks through the small volume of poetry, which looks positively tiny in his large fingers, and stops at a random page. “Sonnet 29,” he reads.

“Sonnet 29 it is.”

And after a brief pause, he clears his throat and settles into a comfortable position. Then he begins to read:

“When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state…”

His voice is deep and rich as usual, he speaks clearly and slowly, enunciating each word perfectly. You feel a tug at your heart as you hear him read these antiquated lines, written by such a sad soul, from a time so long ago. Words that despite their age are timeless, that now may very well be resonating with Savage. Disgrace. The despair he feels in the face of his loss has been monumental, and you both know that there have been those around you that blame him for what happened, and the guilt and sorrow of such sentiments has begun to decay him from the inside out. Outcast. You are aware of how isolated his upbringing was, of how feeling separate from those around him has always plagued him. How that feeling has only been exemplified with the loss of Feral. “And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries And look upon myself and curse my fate…”

It is devastating how well Savage is embodying the pitiful, downcast narrator of this poem. A man broken by tragedy, his pleas and prayers, no matter how desperate, ignored by the Forces above. His existence falling to ruin. You notice Savage’s fingers gripping the pages tighter, and it is then that you understand: he really does relate to these words. He pauses at the end of this line, blinking slowly as the meaning of what he speaks steadily settles within him. As he realises that his pain has been understood by a poet, who lived hundreds of years before he even existed. Savage inhales softly, then continues: “Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured like him, like him with friends possess’d…” Savage has never been one to complain, never been one to envy: does he truly resonate with these words? Does he wish he were someone else, someone without a violent past, without a broken family? Does he long for a temperament that is not easily inflamed, a body that is not large and imposing? To be someone whose friends and family have never once attempted to manipulate him for his strength? “Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, With what I most enjoy contented least…” Savage’s voice is quieter now, the tragedy of these lines making his voice syrupy with regretful understanding. Though you are aware of him sinking into a grief-fuelled depression, one that has leached him of his hobbies and passions; he has never before struck you as insecure or unsure of himself in any respect. Has he envied those with more money than him? Your home is modest, but you get by, it has never been noted as a problem before. Does he secretly wish for the decadent lifestyles of those that he works for? Or does he simply yearn for the sweet relief of self-medication, exotic drugs and acrid drinks that he cannot regularly afford? “Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee, and then my state…”

After reading these two lines, he stops talking, reading the rest of the poem in silence. You worry that this was a terrible idea, that the content has been unnecessarily upsetting. That the poem is going to end with a bitter lament on the poet's lover, and Savage wants to save you the awkwardness of it by ending it here. But then he reads those final four lines aloud to you, his confidence restored, his countenance painted with…relief. “Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate; For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings.”

There is a deep silence when he finishes, as his words ring in your ears, the meaning of the piece striking you unexpectedly, deep in your heart. The poet’s spirits, once melancholic and dire, are immediately lifted when he thinks of his lover. That he is like a bird, flying the sky at sunrise, whistling songs of beauty and reverence. Joyous. That his love brings such richness and wealth to his life, he no longer wishes to swap places with those of such greatness as monarchs. “It is all very truthful,” Savage muses, shutting the book. He thinks for a moment, then brings his eyes to yours. “My suffering has caused me at times, to envy and wallow,” he admits. “I have often compared my own fate with that of others, desiring to swap our lives, to switch places and live a menial existence without the heartache of my grief. My guilt.” He pauses, and adds with a devastating inflection, “and the overbearing reality of my abuse.” Savage then sits forward, taking the reading glasses from his face. “But then I look at you, my beloved.” Your eyes prickle with tears as you listen to him. “I look at you, and I know that I would not change a thing. Not for the world. Not for the galaxy. How could I ever envy those without you in their life?” You inhale sharply at the sweet shock of his confession, placing your cup of tea aside and stumbling out of the bed and into his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck, and feel his large, warm palm settle on your back. “Oh Savage,” you whisper. “I am so sorry for all of the pain that has been inflicted upon you. It’s not your fault. You don’t deserve this, any of it.” “When you say that, my love,” he mutters in a hushed whisper. “I truly believe it.”

–

tagging some mutuals who make like this (but please feel free to ignore if this isn’t your cup of tea): @kimageddon @eyecandyeoz @stardustbee @maulslittlemeowmeow @moonstrider9904 @dinsverdika @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @grinningnexu @elledjarin @gggoldfinch @nxctuaryninetythree @wingofshadow @seriowan @itsagrimm @lazarithebellydancingmime @corona-one

#savage opress #savage #savage opress x reader #savage opress x you #savage opress fic #savage x reader #savage x you #savage opress fanfic #savage fic #savage fanfiction #savage opress fanfiction #my writing #eloquentmoon

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nun-draws · 2 years

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Feral Opress Headcanons

Feral is a beastmaster- he trains and tames the wild fauna of Dathomir

Feral is extremely fierce and protective of the ones he loves especially of his father- Viscus

Sweet honied smiles and starry eyes that carry the mantel of family

HE LIVES TO BE NUDE OR MOSTLY NUDE. I don’t think the nightbrothers are very shy- at least around each other

Very upbeat and Charismatic personality!

Gentle yet firm touch- the touch of a mentor

worn and calloused hands but they’re soft

he enjoys wearing as little as possible but what he does like to wear is light in texture but dark in colour- woven by the spiders

he’s tall for an untransformed nightbrother- 5′10

might add more to this later but i hope you enjoyed it~ ♥️

#feral opress #opressbros #opress #nightbrother #Dathomir #feral x you #feral opress x reader #feral x reader

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savagesbonergarage · 3 years

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hi hey there hello do you maybe have any thoughts on first kisses with the opress brothers 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

You bet I do!

I'm gonna make this in three parts, so here's Maul's first, then I'll post Savage's and Feral's separately. :)

Maul

"First Kiss"

It happens during training.

Teräs Käsi was created to combat the Jedi, and therefore utilizes a full-body fighting style, complete with weapons and really whatever else happens to be on hand. It's aggressive, it's ruthless, and it embodies Maul's attitude toward life in general. Nothing is off-limits, everything is a weapon, and whenever there's an opening, it's taken advantage of.

He never used his lightsaber with you, however, and it was clear he was holding back at least slightly. While you were far from facing him at full strength, it still irked you a bit that he wasn't giving you more of a challenge.

"I'm ready to take on more, Master," you stated confidently.

Maul raised his brow with an air of amusement, allowing himself a slight smirk at your words as he paced around in a half-circle in tandem with you.

"Is that so? Are you confident you can subdue me in a way I haven't predicted? I have already foreseen your failure, apprentice."

You wanted to scoff, but instead you took a battle-ready stance and watched intently as your Master did the same, a gleam of anticipation in his eye. It was the expression he always gave when he looked forward to 'teaching you a lesson', ever so smug at the prospect of defeating you. However, you were determined to turn the tables this time around.

The two of you lunged at each other in a flurry of kicks, blows, twists, and jumps, managing to remain in an even draw with one another until Maul eventually found an opening and had you pinned roughly to the ground, his superior strength beginning to overtake you as your interlocked hands pushed against one another's arms in the fight for dominance. Your faces were already only inches apart, so you made the executive decision to take advantage of the opportunity you were given.

His breath hitched when you closed the space between you, surprised at your action as well as your inaction as you allowed your body to relax while you captured his lips with your own. You moaned into his mouth a little as you lightly grazed your teeth against the tattoos on his bottom lip, and that moment's hesitation from him as his eyes widened was all you needed.

Without warning, you flipped him over so that you literally came out on top, pressing his arms down into the dirt as you straddled him and chuckled quietly at the sight that signaled your victory.

"Your foresight is misconstrued, Master," you explained complacently as you continued to hold him in place. He didn't attempt to throw you off, or even tense up in the slightest. Initially you could see his embarrassment, however that faded into something else entirely the longer you remained in that position.

"You've learned well, my apprentice..." he began, the crimson of his skin aiding to hide the flush of his face, though the same couldn't be said for you. You wondered if the beating of his hearts was from the adrenaline of the fight or from the passion of your kiss as yours was, and luckily you received your answer with his following instruction. "Demonstrate for me again this...technique."

So, you did.

#maul #darth maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #maul x you #star wars #savage opress #feral #maul fluff #anon asks

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just-imagine-starwars · 2 years

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I'm still taking hc requests if anyone wants! Also I'm gonna add tbb to my list. I've been reading a bunch of tech x reader stuff lately.

#cad bane x reader #darth maul #savage opress #star wars #feral opress #grand admiral thrawn #maul #star wars: the clone wars #starwars #cad bane #darth maul x reader #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #fennec shand x you #fennec shand x reader

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thenightmarketofdathomir · 19 days

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O Wishmonger, Herald of Dathomir, you honor us again with your generosity and wisdom. To begin, I beseech thee - how shall our Brothers Three greet their dearly beloved ones after so long a time away? A reunion is long overdue. <3

I couldn't agree more.

Pairings: Feral x Reader (f!), Savage Opress x Reader (f!), Darth Maul x Reader (f!) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Somno (cnc), oral (receiving) size difference, p in v, collaring, D/s, power dynamics, exhibitionism, references to BDSM, marking/possession

Feral: Hugging your pillow, deep in dreams of your lover whom you haven't seen in so many moonsets, you don't feel the shimmersilk sheets slipping from your legs, but you remember that slanted grin and the way his eyes darken when he eases himself between your legs. The dream is so convincing, you can almost feel the heat of his mouth against your slit, easing you open with a kiss and the gentle stretch of your legs to avoid his horns -- and he holds you there, suckling at your clit, his tongue exploring as if to remap the secrets of your body. Too many nights away let the imagination run wild, but even lucid and dreaming, the gravel in his laughter is so convincing you nestle into the fantasy of his body behind yours, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress when he kisses up your spine, the gentle grip on your wrists easy because you're still limp and murmuring his name into the mattress. Your body clenches, empty and wanting, but his murmured, "I missed how wet you get for me," draws out a shiver and a roll of your hips to fit that heavy, hard rod of durasteel sinking into your cunt -- one tender ridge at a time to fill you up. "There you go, love," Feral says, his shallow thrusts easing you from slumber and into his arms, already tightening with the promise of pleasures delivered with the swivel of his hips. "Right back where you belong."

Savage: He's never looked more severe than when he's covered in gore, fresh from his mission with his eyes flashing. It occurs to you he hasn't bothered with his debriefing -- that his ship's been abandoned at the landing paddock and that every stone stair on the way up the Peak is just a mild inconvenience for someone who takes them three at a time on a good day. He looks pissed. He looks determined. And nothing -- and no one -- is getting in his way when his gaze locks on yours. It's a strange feeling, after having missed him so long, that your first inclination is to shrink. "Forgive me," he says when he reaches you, but the words are garbled and the next thing you know, your legs are swinging out from under you. The vein in his neck is throbbing, and outwardly, he looks pissed -- a warning, but not for you while he carries you away, clinging to those broad shoulders, fully aware that had you protested, you might've gone over his shoulder instead. He practically kicks open the doors to your shared quarters, the guard hastening to lock you away. "I need three full days," he explains. "Uninterrupted." He's shaking as he sets you to your feet, his hands uncertain of what to grab first, because there's a violence to his desperation that frightens him. So you step into him. Unfasten his armour. Press yourself into his skin when he groans and collapses into the edge of the bed where he remembers he can touch you without causing damage -- you take his hands. Place them where you want them: your breast, your hip, the swell of your ass, your thigh. He shakes less, but the look he wears is hungry. You remind him with your kisses that he can ease him; that you felt the same.

Maul: Lord Maul never leaves his toys unattended. He brings them with him -- his consort, his Queen marked with a tiny gold chain falling across so much black satin that it looks like a necklace, but you know, even standing behind him, that it's a sign of possession. Absolute authority. Control over the things he fears losing the most -- not his autonomy, but yours, because you chose him, and you chose this expression of your devotion: a little gold half-crescent, the suns doubled upon each other, worn around the neck. His symbol. His brand, like the bruises on your thighs from his powerful fingers, or the raw, wet feeling of his spend between your legs -- the fervour of his desire to drown you in pleasure hidden across your body beneath the long elegant train of your gowns and the expertly tailored bodices. Lord Maul is an overachiever. A perfectionist. A magician whose wonders are woven into stolen moments with your back bent over the balustrades and your legs around his neck. It's dizzying, to know you're so thoroughly claimed -- so desired that he refuses to be parted from you, because the part of you that worships him in return offers in exchange the one thing he most desires: the panted, exhausted whisper of his name from your lips like a prayer to some long forgotten creature, elevated to godliness with the offering of your love, your devotion, your body.

#Darth Maul #Feral Opress #Savage Opress #Darth Maul x Reader #Darth Maul x You #Savage Opress x Reader #Savage Opress x You #Feral Opress x Reader #Feral Opress x You #Darth Maul Smut #Savage Opress Smut #Feral Opress Smut #spicy

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aftergloom · 1 year

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2022 - By the Numbers

368,791 total words written

Crown of Horns took the greatest chunk at 260,395 words

The Night Market of Dathomir and Opress Oneshots came in second at 108,396 words

152 smutty ficlets, drabbles, and headcanons for @thenightmarketofdathomir

15 gen headcanons for @fromdathomirwithlove (but it's new so I'll forgive myself)

One 50k NaNoWriMo Win

Two Camp NaNoWriMo Wins (30k each)

Fave WIP: Three Princes (Feral Opress x Reader) Fave Oneshot: The Collector (Darth Maul x Reader)

Fave Unreleased Work: Crown of Horns (Feral Opress x OC - Kai Dara Koth) Archangel (Darth Maul x Reader) Most Popular Work: Evidence in the Aftermath (probably? I'm guessing based on how many times it's showed up in my notifications.)

Most Underrated Work: This Fic is Cursed (Opress Bros x Readers) Most Surprising (that I actually did the thing): Homecoming (Rogue x Gambit)

Fave One-liner: Too many of them.

I know 2023 is going to be a busy year for me for my writing, but how much of that happens here versus what's happening behind the scenes is up in the air.

I have some bigger projects that I want to finish, and I know some of my focus is shifting back to original work, and maybe, like, two fics that need attention/completion that I'm still thinking about.

By my own self-assessment, and looking at the numbers month over month, I burned pretty hard but this isn't enough for me. It's rarely, if ever, enough for me.

I want half a million words in for 2023, including at least two complete drafts of novel-length work, with one outline for a new project, and maybe six short stories (original horror content) that I can take to market. Gonna be busy.

Let's fucking go, kids.

#Darth Maul #Savage Opress #Feral Opress #The Night Market of Dathomir #Darth Maul x Reader #Feral Opress x Reader #Feral Opress x You #Savage Opress x Reader #Savage Opress x You #Darth Maul x You #Maul x Reader #Maul x You #hi I'm nxctuary #amwriting #rogue x gambit

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eldritch-horror-from-the-void · 7 months

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📔Star Wars Headcanon List📔

This is a list of my own headcanons, imagines, and other pieces that I don't consider to be full stories, all of which I have written. They're mostly, if not all, about the three Opress Brothers. If you don't see a post listed here, it could be some place else on one of my pinned post lists.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Maul's Thoughts when Trapped on Lotho Minor

You go with Maul's Brother to Save him from the Junk Planet

Maul Neglects himself after being Saved

Feral just Shows up one Day lmao

Maul and his Childhood Droid (SPOILERS FOR THE WRATH OF DARTH MAUL)

The Brothers x Reader Helping with Chores

Dathomir Culture Headcanon

Autistic Maul

Savage x Fem!Reader with Bad Periods

18+ Maul Comes Home Imagine

#📔star wars headcanon list📔#opress brothers

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justalittletomato · 3 years

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another soft sunday ramble trip with dad!maul , uncle! Savage and baby tomato

Summary: The three go on a “mission to Dathomir” for mushlings and to say hello to one of their own.

It’s still dark out when the three venture out.

Cress slumbers in his tiny crib as his mother gently wishes him safety on his journey. She presses tiny kisses to his face causing the little one to coo and purr. His Starlight places another soft star plush into the crib and gives the baby one last gentle smile, “ Make sure he stays warm, you know he hates the cold.” She doesn’t need to remind him Maul knows this well, it's not everyday your baby leaves on his first “mission”.

He doesn’t mention he has stashed more blankets on the ship and maybe more supplies than they need for Cress, he doesn’t want to come unprepared.

Maul watches as she hesitates, she’s worried. Dathomir is not a pleasant place, too many things have happened there. But at only 3 months he was already overdue for his markings. Her son was a child of two worlds, she wanted him to know them both.

Savage had been the one to mention it, a tradition that was often done as soon as a child was born. His Starlight was not the one who needed convincing to give Cress any markings, but Maul knew that it would call for a journey to his home world, thier home world.

He never saw himself returning to that place, he had been stolen, brought back in a state of madness and then leaving with only revenge on his mind.

Savage had lived his life there, if it was much of a life, as cast away nightborther or slave to a night sister. They were trained to become warriors and received no thanks. Left to fight another when a night sister willed it and controlled them. It was not a pleasant place.

Yet, there were the brothers he had grown with there, the boys he had fought with and told stories with when the elders had sent them to bed. Whispered back and forth about what was up in the sky away from Dathomir’s red mists.

He had once promised Feral that they would get to see it.

Feral, the brother Maul never met and uncle Cress lost long before he was born. Maybe on this journey they would at least get to visit where thier brother now rested and get to tell Cress all about him.

They would get to share about the new life they had and the places they had visited, how Savage had found thier lost brother. The palace on Mandalore and the wonderful sister they now had. Oh and best of all the little Nephew they shared! A nephew that was adored to no end by all of his family, and Feral if you had seen how his mother loves him, did you know a mother could do that?

Maul’s Starlight sees Savage looking up at the sky, and hugs him, “ He would have loved him” Savage would likely mention. “ He would have loved you both.”

Maul kisses his Starlight one last time and promises to be back soon with… What did you call them Savage? Mushlings? Yes Mushlings.

There’s no pull to the planet, just a sense of bittersweetness. Cress has woken up and fussy as Maul picks him up, “ Look little Star, that is Dathomir. Your uncles and I were born here.”

Cress coos at the sight. Savage chuckles, “ He probably just likes it because its as red as he is,”

“Its a good color.” Maul retorts.

Savage avoids landing anywhere near the mists, he settles for the village where he had grown up, where they had grown up. Maul immediately scowls, “ Snow. “

Maul does not want Cress getting cold, he bundles up Cress who is delighted to snuggle up against his father’s chest in his little wrap.

Savage shakes his head. Maul wont be able to have Cress like that when they venture out. The crib will have to come, the floating pod follows them out.

It was expected that they’d bring attention to themselves, but they didn’t expect all the Nightbrothers to gather about. Immediately there is shouts of surprise and elation, their brother had returned!?

Savage is immediately bombarded by both Nightbrothers young and old hugging him tight.

Maul stands back, and huddles Cress closer, he is an outsider here. Even among his own.

A curious little Nightbrother notices him and points, “ And who is that?”

Savage smiles, “ My brother. I found him at last, this was the Nightbrother stolen from us long ago, this is my brother Maul. And the little one is Cress, my nephew”

They note Maul not wanting to get closer and they don’t crowd him, there’s a gentle hum of welcomes and little ones who want to see the baby. It has been some time since a baby had made its way here.

“He’s red like you. We never see red. Its rare. Very rare. Pretty baby. He has no markings. why does he not have any?”

Maul is unsure how to answer, and little Cress is just elated at the attention.

It is the elder named Viscus who has them settle down, “ Maul was taken as a child, he couldn't have known.”

He gives the red Zabrak a sympathetic smile Maul is unsure what to make of it or also the strange feeling that the elder Zabrak slightly resembled him. He shakes the idea out of his head. “ It's is wonderful that you have brought the child to partake in the tradition. And to see that you two are together to raise him, many are not so luckily it has been so long since we have seen added a new Nightbrother. “

Maul does not pry more into what he meant, so he correct Viscus, “ My wife, she didn’t join us in this journey is to thank as well, “

A mother. the children ask, we know of Mother Talzin she’s scary.

Savage clarifies, “ The child’s mother is human. it is different.”

There’s not equivalent here. “She loved him the moment she learned she was expecting him. She hums him lullabies and soothes his tears. She makes sure he is always safe and warm”

“ she sounds nice. Lucky little Cress. A human mother sounds wonderful”

The two go quiet at what the children say.

All the while tiny Cress reaches out a hand to Viscus and coos.

The elder looks to Maul, who nods. “ you are quite the blessed child, Cress,” he gently squeezes the tiny hand. Cress laughs and Maul feels a swell of pride at Viscus’s comment.

The brothers are taken to the sight of the Mushlings, an odd plant only grown here, they are gathered, the pods leaving black marks that take time to fade. Cress got hold of one and smudged his cheeks. Maul hissed, “Cress do you want to get Daddy in trouble?” his baby merely laughs and smudges some on his father’s face as well.

Savage laughs and is promptly smudged as well. The three laugh at the sight of another and pack away the mushlings for later.

There is one last place to visit.

Feral is buried by the cliffs, another trove of mushlings grow here, they are left to freely grow and spread.

Savage kneels down, “Hello brother. I’m home. We're all home. This is Maul and Cress, our brother and nephew. “

Maul kneels next to him and Cress coos, the bonds around him quieted.

It is time to listen.

“I’ve missed you brother. So much has changed. I was able to leave, I found our brother. We have a new home now. Mandalore, you would have loved it. There’s a garden and its so open and different from the village. “ he pauses “Brother we have a sister now, she’s a bit of a nuisance at times. “

Maul frowns.

“ But she is kind, and wonderful. She loves us both, well Maul more, actually Cress more... it's a different sort of love. Brother, she would have loved you. Feral you would have adored her, she pesters as much as you. and Maul, he’s what you expect of an older brother, he bosses you about but he cares. He’s “a bit” rough and dramatic but you get used to it, but when he’s with his Starlight and his Star you should see how gentle he can be with them. “ Maul doesn’t get upset, he just sits quietly and listens as his brother continues through tears.

“ Oh, and Cress, you should have met him. He’s the most precious thing. He smiles at you like you're the sun. He will have the most wonderful life….but he wont have you…he should have…you would have loved him…” his voice breaks as a new onslaught of tears fall.

Cress whimpers as he feels the sadness, he reaches out and Maul brings him closer to Savage, who cradles his tiny nephew. “ He’s a very caring child,” Maul says. “ I would have loved if you met him. I am sorry I never got the chance Brother, but we promise Cress will never suffer as we had. We swear. “

The sun on Dathomir begins to set and the bothers know why this spot was chosen as thier brother’s resting place, as the sun sets the red sky is tinged in a spectrum of colors, reds oranges yellows and pinks on the snow. A perfect place to rest.

#maul #darth maul #savage opress #savage #dad!maul #feral #baby tomato #dathomir #nightbrothers #zabraks #zabrak oc #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #Cress #star wars #star wars fanfic #as you can tell I dont like Talzin much #What is cloud implying about Viscus #cloudsdrabbles

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dreamingyouth · 3 years

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A little "survey" for you guys.

I'm seriously thinking about how to write this "choose your own path" kind of story and I need your help to know where I should go with it.

Would you prefer :

- A story with only Darth Maul, but different endings with him ?

- A story with Maul and Savage, where you can get Maul/Savage/both/none ?

- A story with Maul, Savage and Feral, where you can get either one of them at the end ?

I need to know what you'd like more to be able to build the story from there. So don't hesitate to leave a comment and tell me what sounds the most interesting to you ! Thank you ♡

#starwars #star wars x reader #darth maul x bookworm!reader #darth maul x you #darth maul x reader #savage opress #savage opress x reader #savage opress x you #feral x reader #feral x you

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thecl0wnwars · 3 years

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Maul Masterlist

1. Safe (Gn Reader x Maul)

- WARNINGS: anxiety, panic attacks, death, minor self harm

#darth maul #star wars #the clone wars #Star Wars rebels #savage opress #feral opress #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #captain rex #obiwan kenobi #maul x you #maul x reader

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maulslittlemeowmeow · 2 years

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Dibs

Chapter 2

Warnings: Nothing (wow!), this chapter is pure wholesome fluff

Summary: This isn’t a date - couldn’t be; there was no way you could ask Maul out on a date. This is just.. an outing.. with his whole family at an arcade. Completely innocent. (AU created by the ever talented @nxctuaryninetythree, this is based off of her fic 88:88, and soon to be The Mixtape)

If you would like to follow along with the songs mentioned in the chapter, the first song is SOS by Millencolin, and the second is The Kids Aren’t Alright by The Offspring

Pairing: ModernAU Maul x Reader (cis female)

WC: 3374

Another sticky summer night, and no breeze to cool you. You’d driven with all of the windows down, better that than waste the gas on AC. Even still, you wrapped a flannel around your waist “just in case” - but also because you felt nearly naked wearing shorts and the flannel was practically an accessory. But you’re still pulling on the neckline of your t-shirt as you sit in the shadows of the ridiculously out of place castle behind you. “Camelot” was one of the best ideas you’d had for an… “outing” with Maul. You didn’t want to call it a date, he hadn’t really pushed for anything like that and you were too nervous to ask him out. So instead, you invited him and his brothers.. And the girl Feral was “dating”. With that many people - an odd number of people, no less - it wasn’t a date right?

And to top it all off, you’d gotten here twenty minutes early - overly eager and so beyond nervous - and just climbed up onto one of the thick cement bases of the streetlights in front of the phony castle. You had originally been pretty relaxed, swinging your boots to a tune in your head and trying not to melt away before the Opress gang got there. But now, your nerves are eating you alive and you’ve tucked your legs up to sit criss-cross-applesauce - leaning forward with your elbows on your knees, chewing your lip and beginning to wonder if this was a horrible idea.

Then you hear it. A blaring stereo and someone wailing along with it. You think you can spy the car it’s coming from as it sits at the stoplight just in front of the parking lot, waiting to turn in. A beat-to-shit beige sedan filled to the absolute brim; you can see a heavily tattooed arm hanging out of the back window, tapping along to the music the driver yowls to. You can’t help but grin as it rounds the corner into the parking lot. Maul manages to be the only one in the car that doesn’t look pleased with the music and it’s overly-enthusiastic singer, though he doesn’t look angry per se. Is that just his… default?

You’re beginning to panic again about how he might be entirely too much for you to handle when they park and he unfolds himself from the backseat. Your mind completely short circuits when the group begins stalking towards the building. Well… Maul stalks; Feral would better be described as slinking, and Savage has more of a saunter - a guy who knows he’s large and in-charge. But whoops, there goes that thought too, because Maul has noticed you. Feeling his eyes on you has about the same effect as a cupid’s arrow, striking you right through the chest and leaving you trying to pick your jaw up off the floor.

The moment’s here, can’t stall, can’t run - you slide off of your perch and walk towards the group, doing your best to not look nervous. Feral is first to greet you, seeming entirely too sunshine-y to be related to Maul.

“Thanks for inviting us, I’ve never been here! Great date spot!” The youngest raves, but his bright smile doesn’t distract you from how he glances back at the girl he’s standing beside. The same girl you’d seen Maul walk off with at their party… They’re a cute couple, honestly. Wait… “date”. No! You don’t get a chance to correct him though, because the oldest seems hell bent on getting you alone with Maul. Savage offers you a polite smile before he curls his arms around Feral and his sweetie, dragging them into the building. You watch them go, happy to look at anything other than the smoldering zabrak at your side. Which feels silly, considering you’ve done nothing but think about this man since the first moment you laid eyes on him. Now or never. You turn back to him with as relaxed an expression as you can manage, trying to slip an easy smile across your lips.

“Was that Millencolin? SOS?” You guess, referring to the song you’d heard from the car as they tore into the parking lot. Maul raises an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth twitching, looking the smallest bit pleased.

“Good ear.” he mumbles. He nods his head towards the door and you eagerly accept his invitation, walking into the too-loud building.

Vibrant red carpet, rooms filled near to bursting with arcade games, children darting up and down the aisles with tickets clutched in their tiny little fists, the smell of greasy food and plastic. Classic arcade feel. You spot the rest of your group at the counter at the back of the building, collecting putt-putt clubs and quickly exiting out the back where the mini golf course is. They didn’t even wait for you, Savage is entirely too obvious. What is it with everyone in Maul’s life trying to shove him at the first girl that shows an interest in him? Then again, there is no way you’re the first one stupid enough to make a move on him, right?

“Well I guess we aren’t going golfing with your brothers… What do you think, should we spend too much money trying to win some stupid plastic novelty?” You ask, giving him a wry smile. “First round of coins is on me, since this was my lame-ass idea.” Maul pulls one of his hands out of his pockets at last, gesturing one hand out as if saying “after you”. You only notice then that he’s still wearing that leather jacket, and you honestly wonder how he’s managing to wear it in the muggy summer heat. A thought for another time, especially considering how much you like seeing him in it. So you lead him down the center aisle of the arcade, lined with old and battered suits of armor standing at attention. When you reach the coin exchange, you pull a crumpled bill from your pocket and attempt to straighten it on the hard edge of the machine. You drag it along the edge while pulling it taut between your hands, then push it into the machine. Of course the machine spits it out, so you try flipping it around so that the face on the bill is facing the machine (an old superstition, sure, but you swear by it) and the machine eagerly gobbles it up before spitting out a hearty handful of little bronze coins. You scoop them up and then stare at them for a moment. You have nowhere to put these. Shit.

Maul must sense your distress - it’s probably not hard with the look on your face - because he holds out one wide palm to you. You look at it for a moment before glancing up at him with a bashful smile. You dump the coins into his much larger hand and he stuffs them into his much larger jeans pocket. Damn men’s apparel and their unfair advantages.

“So, you have any favorites?” You question, turning slightly to toss a thumb over your shoulder towards the games. Maul purses his lips in thought before shrugging. Helpful. “Ok, well how about I kick your ass at skee-ball for a bit and then you can pick something.”

“You sound just like Kenobi; arrogant. You’re on.” Maul challenges. You’d be worried you’d upset him if it weren’t for the delicious smirk curling his lips. Maybe you can push it a little further.

“I don’t know Kenobi, but I bet I’d kick his ass at skee-ball too.” It’s called over your shoulder as you saunter in the direction of the machines, putting a little extra sass in your step. Luckily, Maul follows. When you reach the line of machines along the wall, you turn and hold out your hand, rolling your fingers in a grabby sort of way, waiting for him to place some coins in your palm. Maul is still sporting that half a smile when he places two coins in your hand. You look at them while he inserts two coins in the machine beside you. How odd that the coins for a castle-themed arcade would have a rocket ship on them.

You’re brought back from your reverie when Maul flicks his wrist and sends a ball straight into the 500 point hole. Then his arresting golden gaze is sliding back over to you and his smug grin follows. Oh that pretty bastard.

“Are you just going to let me win?” He cooes patronizingly, clearly goading you. You take the bait of course. You slide the coins into the machine in front of you and flinch a bit when the balls are released and loudly clack together beside you. Then you snatch one up and send it racing down the lane. It bounces off the plastic guard for the 1000 point hole and catches on the 100 point guard, guiding it right in.

You can feel Maul’s smug satisfaction as he says “Wow, you’re really kicking my ass.”

“Listen you-...” You spin on your heel to glower at him, but the look on his face twists the arrow lodged in your chest from earlier. You purse your lips and do your best to look upset. “I’ve still got nine more chances to get a higher score than you.” He huffs an almost-laugh out of his nose and picks up another ball. You follow his lead and send another one up the lane.

It’s a close battle, but you manage to scrape by with about 600 points over Maul. He doesn’t seem too upset, just rolls his eyes when you stick your tongue out at him.

“You know what, I bet I know what you’d be good at.” You tease, snatching the tickets from the machines before grabbing his hand and leading him across the room to an equally old and beat up looking machine. You didn’t even realize you’d grabbed his hand so casually until you arrive at your destination. He let you hold it, curling his long fingers around the back of your hand and letting you drag him around. But now you don’t have an excuse to keep holding it, so you drop his hand and place yours on your hip, gesturing with the other at the machine in front of you. Whack-a-mole; or whatever off-brand animal they had in this dump - alligators, it looks like.

“Something to take the edge off, after your most humiliating defeat.” You tease. You bite your lip when you watch his eyes narrow and he tries to hide his smile behind pursed lips.

He places a coin in the machine and looks almost embarrassed as he holds the oversized beating instrument aloft, waiting for the game to begin. You both jump when the first alligator pops out of its burrow, but Maul is quick to bop it over the head and it disappears. You laugh, but Maul seems too focused to notice, his form gone rigid and poised to attack. As the speed of the alligator’s appearances cranks up, you can hear little curses whispered under his breath, and you bite your lip to hold in your giggling. By the time the alligators are popping up in multiples, you’re both cursing at the mocking plastic grins on the reptiles. Maul is now using his free hand to smack some of them and you’re reaching out to hit the ones on the far edge of the board, as the mallet’s tether is oh-so-conveniently too short to reach the farther holes. An animated snickering signals the end of the game and you both look at each other and laugh, slightly out of breath from all of the bouncing around you’d been doing.

“Wish I had one of these at work.” Maul muses as he places the mallet back into its holster. He folds up the tickets from the game and places them into his other jeans pocket; you hand him the ones you had still been clutching from skee-ball, the two of you wordlessly agreeing to combine your efforts.

“Where do you work?” You query, stepping away from the machine and wandering in a random direction, eyes scanning over the machines to see if anything catches your attention.

“Dex’s Diner… it’s a total crap hole.” He growls. “What about you?”

“A veterinary clinic; I’m a bather.” You sound just as sour about your job as he does, but he tilts his head with interest. It’s not one of those jobs people really think about, so you’re not surprised. “You wanna talk about dirty jobs, I got one hell of one. Not to mention I'm covered in scars from it.” You hold your arms out to show him the random map of criss-crossing pale lines over your forearms and hands. Maul pulls the heavy sleeves of his jacket back a bit and shows you his hands. They’ve got various scars, old burns and cuts leaving pink lines over his tattooed skin; you try not to stare at the distinct scars from split skin over his knuckles.

“Builds character.” Is all he supplies. You take another chance and slide your hand back into his, pulling him along to another game. Maybe you could do this to get him to every game; just to feel his warm hand in yours. Both of your palms are a little sweaty, but neither of you seems to care.

Maul surprisingly lets you cart him around through the arcade as much as you dare, and participates in all the games you drag him to - though he puts his foot down when you tease him about forcing him on the Dance Dance Revolution game. You’ve exchanged more money for coins at some point, and Maul continues to be the pack mule for tickets and coins, brushing his fingers along your palm every time he supplies you with coins for another play. His brothers finish with their game and join up with you when you reach the prize counter. Savage is pouting. You give him a questioning look, but Feral is all too eager to answer your unspoken question.

“Savage lost three balls to the course, kept hitting them too hard.” He and his girl are both snickering behind their hands.

“Wow, how many do zabrak have?” You ask, feigning innocence. Feral can’t hold his laughter this time, practically wheezing. You join him and his girl, giggling at your own stupid joke.

Maul lets you choose the prize of your collective efforts - a stuffed Kowakian; red, of course. Then you’re all spilling out of the building and into the parking lot. Feral and his girl are actually really fun, and you’re glad you invited all of them. But the night’s over, and you’re nearing your car. Your panic had abated through the night, but now it’s crawling back up your throat and making you fall out of the easy conversation you’d been having with the rest of the group.

“This is me.” You announce when you pass your car. Savage doesn’t have to drag the other two away this time; they all seem eager to get back to their car and leave Maul alone with you again. Maul notices too - not that it isn’t incredibly obvious - and he looks exasperated as his eyes follow his family to their car, waiting until they're far enough away before he turns his attention back to you. Before you can make any sort of move, Maul pulls one of his hands free from his jacket pockets to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you in for a hug. You’re rigid and shocked for just a moment before the warmth and scent of him envelops you, then you're melting into him. Sweat, leather, his deodorant, cigarettes… you definitely don’t mind it. Your hands slip under his jacket and you spread them over his back, holding him as long as he’ll let you. His chin sits on the top of your head when he speaks.

“Let me know when you get home safe.” He mutters into your hair. You wonder if he’s trying to memorize your scent, trying to burn it into his memory like you are. Then he’s pulling away from you.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to you soon.” You confirm as you reluctantly release him. But you smile all the same before you turn to get into your car. Once he sees you slide into the driver’s seat, he shoves his hand back into his pocket and stalks back to the car he’d arrived in. You turn the keys and roll down your windows just in time to hear Feral’s indignant shriek.

“A hug?!” He squawks. You look over to see the driver’s seat jostle a bit, you assume Maul kicked it in retaliation, because Savage sets him with a warning look.

With a smile, you connect your phone to play through your stereo and back your car out of the parking space.

“When we were young the future was so bright (Whoa) The whole neighborhood was so alive (Whoa) And every kid on the whole damn street (Whoa) Was gonna make it big and not be beat Now the neighborhood’s cracked and torn (Whoa) The kids are grown up but their lives are worn (Whoa) How can one little street Swallow so many lives?”

You’re sitting at the light, waiting to turn, when that beat up beige sedan pulls up behind you, their blinker indicating that they’d be going the opposite way. You hear them before you see them. Feral is already howling along to the song they blast from the poor old car’s abused radio. You turn up your music in retaliation, starting to belt from the top of your lungs to compete with Feral.

“Chances thrown Nothing’s free Longing for What used to be Still it’s hard Hard to see Fragile lives Shattered dreams (Go!)”

Looking into the rearview mirror, you see all smiles from your antics, even Maul. The light turns green and you stick your hand out of your window for one last wave before you go your separate ways.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Maul sat through the relentless ribbing his brothers had given him on the ride home, though he did try to choose a mixtape that he knew Feral would want to sing to in the hopes that it would get the youngest off of his back. His family didn’t usually show an interest in his love life, but the only thing he can figure is that they are sick of waiting around for him to do things himself. Or, there was the option he was less likely to admit to himself: they wanted to see him happy. She did make him smile. She was funny and the way she looked at him made his stomach do flips. Maul definitely can’t get the image of her crouching before him and licking him from navel to sternum out of his head. The way she looked at him then? Forget about it.

He can’t.

Maul remembers those looks as he drags himself up the creaky stairs to get to his room so he can hide away from his teasing brothers. Not wanting to hang his jacket, he shrugs it off and drapes it over his amp. He is pulling his belongings out of his pockets when he hears it.

Clink

A soft clatter, a single coin hitting the worn wooden floorboards. He looks down to see a little rocket ship smiling up at him. He tosses his keys and wallet onto the cinder block beside his bed and crouches down to pick up the single bronze coin. Maul spins it between his fingers as he shifts to sit on the edge of his mattress, considering the small object and how he’d come to acquire it.

An odd thought comes to him, a compulsion, really. He stands again to retrieve his guitar off of its stand and slumps back into his mattress, propping himself against the wall as he settles the guitar in his lap. He pinches the coin between his calloused fingers and plucks at the strings, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips.

------

Previous Chapter (with incredible fanart by @the-chains-are-the-easy-part) x x x Next Chapter

More sweet-as-candy-floss-fluff? Yes. This AU has given me legitimate brainrot, it’s my favorite thing to write and I can’t wait to post the third chapter. I decided to post this right on the heels of the Maul prompt I just posted because I want to shower @eloquentmoon with Maul fic to read for her birthday!! (and definitely not because I have no self control and wanted to post this chapter for ages) Happy birthday again, Moon!

If you haven’t checked out Nxctuary’s work, I highly recommend it! Her AUs make me feel so cozy and nice and she has legitimately turned me into a Feral-Enjoyer.

If you would like to see more of my work, you can go to my Masterlist or my AO3, if you want to be added to my taglist, shoot me a message <3

Taglist:

@eyecandyeoz @misogirl828 @kimageddon

#darth maul #darth maul fic #maul #maul x reader #maul x you #modern au #arcade date #fluff #star wars #darth maul fanfiction #fanfic #fic writing #maulslittlemeowmeow

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