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commander-vas-normandy · 2 years

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Careful || Maul

18+ for Sexual Content. Minors Do NOT Interact

Pairing: Maul x Female Reader

Wordcount: 1.9k

Warnings: Public sex, cockwarming, blood kink, biting, choking, slight humiliation, use of the word whore, orgasm denial, edging

A/N: I have never written Maul before and I have written (especially smut) in MONTHS, so like, just a heads up haha. Also not proofread. I skimmed it but mostly just wanted to get it posted before I got cold feet lol

Sitting in Maul’s lap, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride swelling in your chest. Sitting on the throne of Mandalore was an honor, but to sit in his lap as he sat on the throne? You could have gotten drunk off the power trip it gave you. Mandalorians in their full armor stood at the foot of the dais, their backs turned toward you as they stood guard. The room was filled with the wealthy, their attention mostly on each other except for the stolen glances toward you and their new ruler that you couldn’t help but to notice. After all, even the most self-centered couldn’t help but to spare a moment of their time toward the foreigners ruling over them. But for every Mandalorian gaze that fell upon you, the intensity of the only gaze that mattered seemed to grow.

Even as you watched the Mandalorians mingle in the light of the setting sun that cast through the large windows that overlooked the city, you could feel the fire of his gaze boring a hole through your very being. You didn’t dare glance at him, however, knowing full well that your feeling of power would crumble. For him, you would always crumble.

Your lack of meeting his gaze did not go unnoticed by the zabrak. No, in fact, you could feel him shift beneath you as if trying to pull your attention back to him. When that did not work, he changed tactics. Gloved fingers started at the base of your spine, teasing the bare skin of your back just enough that you sat up a little straighter. His touch was feather light, but it was enough, especially as those wretched fingers of his started to trail upward and then back down, reaching up a little further each time to send shivers through previously untouched flesh. Still you did not look at him, but Maul was familiar with this game of yours. Normally he didn’t much care for your disobedience, especially in front of others, but he knew how to make you listen.

Slowly, the hand tracing your spine began to wander over elsewhere, skimming lightly over your side and teasing the curve of your breast that was just barely exposed by the sheer material of your dress. You took a shuddering breath, concentrating hard on looking at the crowd around you rather than the fingers lighting you up. Suddenly his fingers stopped, just barely resting at the base of your spine. You were so wrapped up in your disappointment that it nearly startled you when the fingers of his opposite hand began to ghost over the exposed skin of your thigh. You were beginning to curse how exposed your dress made you as his fingers taunted further and further up your bare thigh but never close enough to give you relief. It was everything in you not to clench your thighs together, begging for the friction he was not giving. Maul’s fingers eventually taunted you further, peeking just below the material of your skirt and touching everywhere but where you were aching for him.

You couldn’t help yourself as you shifted uncomfortably in his lap. You knew you were both aware of how wet you were already without him even really touching you. For you it was torture, but for him the fun was just beginning as he slipped a finger through your folds. He didn’t give you any real pleasure in his touch and it pulled a whimper from your lips that you tried dearly to choke down but failed miserably. If the Mandalorians at the foot of the steps heard you, they did not give a sign but the dark chuckle behind you let you know the sound had certainly been loud enough for him. Maul leaned forward, lips brushing your ear as that deep voice of his rumbled through your entire being.

“Careful, darling. Only I get to hear those noises.” The growl of his voice enveloped your entire being and you finally turned to look at him, desire written across your face. You wanted to say something smart, something clever enough to match his silver tongue, but between the intensity of his gaze and his fingers finally pushing into you all words died on your lips in favor of a pitiful gasp. There was something wicked in the way he grinned at you, teeth bared in a manner that could only come across as affection from him and him alone. He knew he would win your little game, it was only a matter of when.

“My Lord,” you gasped, trying your best to keep your reactions between the two of you. You would be a fool to think that your little show had gone completely unnoticed as the party’s center piece, but you hoped that maybe you could preserve some privacy. You wanted to look out to the party beneath you, gauge the reactions of the few who might be watching, but Maul held you still with his gaze alone. You would do anything he asked under that gaze.

“Do you wish to be heard so badly?” he taunted. His fingers curled within you just so that you had to bite your lip to keep quiet, breaking the skin enough that you could taste the faintest hint of blood. His hand on your back skimmed upward across your bare skin until he could knot his fingers in your hair and give a harsh tug. The shock of his action made you release your lip from between your teeth and he took the opportunity to dive in and collect your lips as his own. The slight tang of your blood made him groan and he bit your lip hard enough to further open your fresh wound and drag a whine out of you in the process. “Because that can be arranged.”

His fingers continued to drag across that sweet spot within you, tightening the knot in your gut and making your legs tremble. His thumb began swift circles on your clit and he nearly laughed at the pathetic look on your face as you held his gaze and tried your damndest to keep down the sounds of your strangled moans. You swore you heard the sound of armor shuffling behind you but you did not dare look away.

“Maul… My Lord, please-” you begged, one hand braced on the arm of the throne behind you and the other clutching helplessly at his tunic as if that would ground you from the high that threatened to consume you. Just as you felt yourself begin to crest over your peak, his hand retreated and if you hadn’t been loud enough for the guards to hear before you were certain they had heard the noise of frustration that escaped you.

“Just because you want them to hear doesn’t mean it comes without punishment.” He trailed his slick fingers down your bare thigh before giving it a taunting pat. You readjusted your skirt, shifting uncomfortably as embarrassment burned through you. He grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a stern kiss. “Let’s see if you can behave.”

Your eyes finally fell from his as his hand left your chin and reached down to work his cybernetic cock free from his pants. Your eyes widened and shot back up to look at his face. The look on his face was nigh unreadable, but you knew he gained some amusement from the slight panic in the hitch of your breath. Though his movements had been subtle enough, you were certain that others were much more privy to your situation by now. The high slits on either side of your skirts made it simple enough for him to gain full access to you with little to no effort. You readjusted yourself in his lap, albeit much less subtle as Maul, as he helped to guide you back on his eager cock. He had the upper hand, much better at schooling his features than you and any noises he did let free as your cunt fluttered around him were buried in your hair as his hands settled on your hips. You, however, couldn’t help the whine that was only just barely covered by the sounds of the party below you. He slipped into you so easily, filling you and stretching you in the most delightful of ways.

Maul’s hand found its way to your throat as you adjusted your skirts, pulling you back against him with a commanding grip. This time you continued to look straight ahead, quiet and obedient. His breath grazed your skin and you could feel yourself flutter around his cock from even that smallest of sensations.

“You do not move, you do not so much as breathe too heavy without my permission, do you understand?” He growled, hand on your throat tightening threateningly. He knew you loved it. Knew this simple action was only turning you on and taunting you more.

“Yes, my Lord,” you breathed in affirmation. His hand stayed put for a moment longer, testing you before he released you and rested back more comfortably on the throne. You stayed straight up in his lap, prim and proper, as if he wasn’t showing the entirety of the Mandalorian upperclass what a whore you were.

So much focus went into keeping yourself well behaved that the clanking of armor startled you as a Mandalorian knelt before you and Maul. Your walls clenched around the cybernetic cock buried deep within you and Maul’s hand on your hip dug into your skin threateningly. You could barely focus on the words of the Mandalorian, breaths shallow as you thought about the fact that someone was standing so close to where Maul kept you on the precipice of an orgasm. Surely he knew? Of course he knew, it was only that he was smart enough not to mention it or question Maul that saved you the embarrassment of coming face to face with what your lover was doing to you.

As Maul spoke with the Mandalorian, his fingers lightly skimmed over the exposed skin of your thigh. To anyone else it may have seemed an absentminded action of a lover, but to you it was punishment. He was testing you. You nearly whined, but thankfully the fear of punishment kept you in line. The fear of all that build up only to be denied an orgasm later was enough of a threat and he knew it.

After the other man had been dismissed and the guards at the foot of the dais had reformed their slight barrier between you and the party, you let out a shuddering breath. Maul sat up behind you and his hand skimming your thigh stopped. You closed your eyes as he growled in your ear once more.

“I said not a breath.” The threat in his voice sent a shiver down your spine and you whimpered. “I want you in bed. Stripped. Do not touch yourself or this will be the longest night of your life. Now go.”

He nudged you from his lap and you could have cried from the new lack of stimulation. He took your moment of pause to tuck himself away before fixing you with an expectant look when you did not start making your way down the steps of the throne.

“Now,” he repeated and you nodded quickly before making your way through the crowd to exit the party. You couldn’t possibly imagine how this night might get any longer.

#taliesin writes #maul #darth maul #maul x reader #darth maul x reader #maul x female reader #tw blood #star wars fanfic #clone wars maul #maul fic #darth maul fic #darth maul fanfic #maul fanfic #star wars smut #darth maul smut #maul smut #maul x you #darth maul x you

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ivorydragoness44 · 2 years

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Darth Maul x Reader: Eventually

Word Count: 364 Summary: The Reader wakes up before Maul does.

~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~

As your eyes opened up to see the bedroom pooled in the cool morning light, your eyebrows knitted together. Why in the galaxy were you awake at this hour? Not even when you had something of importance to attend to or accomplish did you ever rise this early. Though, there were some instances where you had no other choice but to do so. Firstly, you had to at least untangle yourself from the bedsheets. It made you wonder whether you slept well or not from the struggle. That, and you did not want the movement to jostle the bed too much. Afterward, you took a short breather before anything else. Not that you were in a hurry to start your day. Stretching out your limbs, you accidentally bumped your hand against your partner. When you looked at him, a smile spread over your lips. It was a feat in itself that you woke up before Maul. There hardly was a day when you woke up and he was not already preparing to train. So, any spare time that you could get with him in the morning, you took it. Rolling onto your side, you shimmied up behind him. You felt as he took a deep breath when you curled your arm over his middle. “You’re awake early,” he hummed, hardly opening his eyes. He took up your hand, bringing it to his lips and gave it a soft kiss. “I don’t know why though,” you admitted. He chuckled. “To start your day. As we should now. Like any and every day since past.” You tightened your hold around him when he began to push himself up from the bed. “No. We are not getting out of bed today.” “Is that so?” He asked, looking over his shoulder at you. He appeared humored by your response, a small smirk twitching up at the corner of his mouth. In reply, you swung a leg over his hip. “As you wish, my love,” he sighed back down into the mattress. “You will eventually need something that will require you to leave the bed.” “I know, but not just yet,” you said, nuzzling your face to his back.

#darth maul #maul #star wars #darth maul fanfic #darth maul fanfiction #darth maul x reader #darth maul x you #darth maul x y/n #darth maul insert reader #maul fanfic #maul fanfiction #maul x you #maul x y/n #maul x reader #maul insert reader #ivorydragoness44 #soft!maul #darth maul romance

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outerrimhours · 2 years

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As The World Burns

A Darth Maul x F/AFAB!Reader Fanfiction

Chapter One: A Princess's Peril

{Previous Chapter} / {Next Chapter} / {Fic Masterlist}

FIC SUMMARY: Queen to be, after the slaughter of your mother and father by the Separatists, you were cast aside in an attempt at dictatorship by your uncle who claims he is the rightful ruler. Kept in the dark, you secretly seek knowledge to overthrow the crown, yet find yourself entangled in a lustful affair with the enemy, a certain Sith Lord who aids you in the ploy to take back your kingdom.

Multi-chapter, fem/AFAB!Reader x Darth Maul. No use of y/n. Let’s pretend Maul was cut from the knee down. No canon timeline tbh. Includes smut.

RATING: Explicit. This work is strictly for those 18+ due to sexual content. MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT.

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1k

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: Loss of parent/family, anxiety, unwanted touch (nothing serious),nightmares,

A/N: Sorry this took forever to get out. I’ve had no motivation, except @eloquentmoon, who I adore their work and their fic made me want to write this.

“Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom”

As if conjured from the storybook of a child, a soft evening mist ghosted over the garden, soaking into petals of lavender. In the cloud softened light, the ivy brings a sweet wave of evergreen with veins of the lightest green. The ghost of vines traced their pathway like fading scars against the Utarian statue. What once was new and vibrant, crumbled at the will of the planet. Pieces of tufa and limestone fragmented. Grass breaching through exposed cracks. At the edge of the clouds rested a brilliant white patch, like a turning page catching the suns. The rest was dove gray and peach nestled into a hint of beryl, just enough to announce the sunset. And tucked furtively inside of a stone wall was an aged and water logged copy of “The History of Utara”.

What once was tradition within the Altair family, soon perished with the death of the King and Queen. Before the coronation of a young princess, Druan Altair, brother of the king, emerged from the shadows to take the crown instead. The princess was not to know the history of her people and the politics within. Most saw this change as a form of protection after what happened to her mother and father at the hands of the separatists, but was merely a ploy to dictatorship.

You settled onto the bounty of clover and sun strengthened grass, the torso of a tree lending a resting spot. Despite the yellowed pages curling up within themselves, black ink still flowed in perfect Auerbech.

Your kingdom was once peaceful and prospering, barely a parsec away from Naboo, who happily traded with no conflict, until the war began. A war that starved the Naboolians and killed the reigning monarchs on Utara. A beloved King and Queen, struck down by the hands of a red suffused blade. A young princess's peril. Although you had been trained from birth to take rule, Druan Altair assumed control under the pretense that a princess whose parents were targeted by the Sith would merely be in danger.

You absorbed the information thoughtfully.

“M’lady”, a voice approached, the mildewed book hiding underneath the skirt of your dress. Approaching through the brush was a young Knight named Torent Mozh, who met your gaze, not with a shyness like most guards, but with a blunt refusal to avert his gaze first.

“The king requests your presence in your quarters.”

Your jaw clenched at the word king. There were no requests. Only demands.

“May I inquire why exactly I am being shunned from my own gardens at such an hour”, you requested, observing the way the setting sun beamed off the shiny armor. You knew Torent long enough to know when he did provide all of the information you requested. Although some of his face was obscured by a dark scraggly beard that clung to his skin, you could still read minuet facial expressions.

“We have visitors. He prefers you not be out during this time”, the Knight stated, “You know, for your safety, Princess.”

Bile rose in your throat as a large, sleek, ship slowly landed a few miles north. Nothing like you had ever seen.

“Who”, you demanded.

Torent scoffed at the assertiveness.

“Separatists?”

“Nothing you should concern yourself with. Now let’s go”.

The way he placed his hand against your back was soft, yet aggressive, in a swift motion to move you towards the palace. It infuriated you. Yet suddenly panic settled in as you realized your book was still tucked between your dress. Every explicit comment you felt like shouting was silenced by the dread of knowing your secret could be exposed so easily. You were silent, tunnel vision setting in as you walked up the stairs and into the foyer, Torent’s hand no longer pushing you, but eyes still watching as you climbed the stairs to your quarters.

You had to find a way to return the book to the garden.

“M’lady, may I retire for the night”, your servant, Thalia, asked quietly as she combed through the waves of your hair. You were usually more talkative, basking in Thalia’s company and friendship, yet tonight you were curled within yourself. Gazing into the mirror, thoughts far away. All you could think of was getting that book back into its creavis.

“Of course, get some rest.”

Thalia sat the gold plated brush against the vanity, its detailed artwork worn and withering with age. You couldn’t help but regret not taking every generational hair that swept through that brush and knitting it into a blanket. Possibly the last piece of your mother residing in it. The grief drained through you, rather than skating over your skin. It traveled through every cell to reach the ground. Your feet lifting to touch the chill marbled floor, ghosting over to the chest that resided like a dusty coffin underneath your bed. It was painted in swirls of pastel with flecks of gold, as if Michelangelo sculpted it himself. The lock clicking beneath your fingertips, opening to reveal what was left of your mother. A silk nightgown, moon shaped hair clips, letters from your father proclaiming his love when he wasn’t planetside, her favorite books, and lastly, a journal. The journal was several hundred yellowing pages, each gentle to the fingertip, but cracking with age and tear stains. Upon them was the wisdom of her soul; those feelings of love channeled through great knowledge and a lifetime of meditative contemplation. In that humble ink was the liveliness of her brain, how her synapse danced as if they were young all her days. The journal was forever as pure as a child. A mother who loved her daughter more than imaginable.

You curled underneath the satin cream colored sheets of your bed, flipping through the pages of the journal by candlelight. Your favorite entry a reminder of the morning you picked berries with her by the garden wall. Laughter and smiles. The way she smelled of roses when she embraced you. You were not very ladylike then and she blamed your father.

“She has a warrior’s heart”, he would always say.

Your heart ached with a mixture of mournfulness and vexation, but your train of thoughts interpreted by echoing voices downstairs. Your curiosity plagued you. You were desperate to know who your uncle had brought forth. Unlike your people, who he had easily manipulated during a time of war and mourning; you were less naïve. You had seen the Separatists ships before, the guards loading spice into what once held your finest wine.

You were eager to spy on your Uncle’s new acquaintances.

Tucking your Mother’s journal away and finding a robe to cover yourself from the chill, you swiftly gathered a small candlelight and cracked the door. A guard was perched in the center hallway, not for your protection as one might think, but to keep you from leaving. Luckily, shift change was beginning to happen, and you managed to sneak past to the staircase.

“I assure you Lord Maul”, you heard your Uncle in an overwrought whisper. You edged close to the marbled wall, creeping silently down the staircase until you were able to peer over the corner. Your Uncle walked alongside a slightly shorter man draped eerily in a black cloak.

“Our soldiers are the best in the system”, he continued.

Your interest peaked as the man clasped his hands behind his back, humming lowly as if considering his words.

“Utara will be a valuable asset to Crimson Dawn.”

You gasped at your Uncle’s words, causing the visitor to turn slightly in your direction. It was such a subtle noise, even your Uncle didn’t notice. Yet, your heart pounded violently.

“We will see”, Maul spoke, turning his attention to the staircase. Predatorial eyes locking with yours. You had never seen eyes so saffron, so piercing. It frightened you. He was surely looking right at you and you were so frozen in place, you dared not move. His blood stained skin was tattooed with black tribal inks, something you had never seen before on your planet.

The devil had you trapped in his gaze until he looked away, addressing your Uncle one last time before disappearing through the doors.

“Do not disappoint,'' he spoke.

You finally exhaled, blood and air rushing through your body as you huffed against the wall. You were so tense and panicked, quietly racing back to your quarters before you were caught once more.

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misfit-one · 1 year

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Star Wars fanfic

Sooo I dug up some courage and wrote a fanfic. No, wait, writing it was the easy part, posting it on AO3 however - send me hyperventilating.

Right. 1755 words. Not a big thing. No, the big thing is sharing it. And sharing here. Oh, Fates!

Well, enjoy as Maul is resurrected by The Prophets of the Dark Side.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46010686

#star wars #maul #fanfic #darth maul #maul fanfic #always remember

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ladykatakuri · 2 years

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Maul

Maul x OFC

Wordcount: 7158

Rating: Teen and Up

TW: Violence, Death, Major character death, Blood and Injuries, Youth Trauma. If I missed anything please let me know.

Summary:

Darth Maul no longer was Darth Maul, he was just Maul and he had lost everything and everyone he once had in the galaxy. But what happened to him before he met his faith on Tatooine?

Well, he did encounter someone unexpected and life had taken a new turn in the galaxy.

A/N: First of all I want to deeply thank @imabeautifulbutterfly who has been so very kind to do the beta work for me. Thank you sweet butterfly for helping me out all the time and letting me know when I made a mistake or should change/add something.

This story popped up into my mind after I have been reading the books that all were about Maul, from his childhood till his moment of death. And I just wanted to give him atleast a little bit of happieness in between. Please let me know what you think and as always: Love and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Friendship, family, love, all words that had no meaning to him growing up. He knew what the words stood for when it came to other sentient beings in the galaxy, but to Maul that was all they were, words. To him the most important and meaningful words were loyalty and respect, both words that were closely tied to his master.

As a child, Maul learned early on that the outside world was not only a harsh learning place, it was also filled with challenges. Challenges to his very way of life and the man who was responsible for raising him.

He would look outside the one small window in his room and watch the inhabitants of his home planet go by their daily business, dreaming of what their lives would be like out there. When he was put outside with nothing but his own survival instinct, he quickly learned not to be too invested in what the lives of other life forms were like, they were all transient and of no consequence. He survived by killing to live, he learned that he loved the violence that enabled him to survive.

He would look at the droid that was responsible for training him and caring for his wounds, but that would also punish him when he did not fulfill his goals in training and his master was disappointed in his progress. The droid became a well known feature in his early life and though at some point he thought he could befriend it, in the end it also had to be destroyed, it ended up as discarded junk on the dining room floor.

Maul was just a child that grew up too soon, Maul had no choice, Maul was twisted and turned into a killing machine by his own master and the only father figure he had ever had.

What Maul longed for most during his childhood, even when he did not realize it, was someone to take care of him just once, to stand up for him and shield him from the pain of punishment, from the loneliness, from being made into the Maul he ended up as.

In his late teens, Maul was sent to a private school. Not just any school, but one where every day was made into hell and where Maul was reminded of what he was meant to be in the future, an assassin, a killing machine, a disciple that would make his master proud. His graduation present was not the acceptance of his accomplishments, it was the order to destroy everything there and anyone there. Maul killed all the teachers and students that were there. He enjoyed the thrill of the moment, the taste of fear and blood that surrounded him as he went through the premises and laid waste to all and everything. He thrived on the sensation of their moments of death that was so present in the Force. The last two for him to kill were the two who had been the most present during his education. The headmaster who tried to stall for time by offering bribes died rather fast. The last person to die by his hands and who looked him in the eyes as she died was Kilindi, the Nautolan who befriended him, partnered up with him and who had been protective over him as much as he had been over her. Maul, completely twisted at that time, felt nothing as he watched her die.

But, as it so often happens to those who do not expect it, something happened that turned his entire world upside down. For his master, in the name of his master, Maul had killed many and he never felt any regrets. Maul felt pride, for it was for the greater honor of the Sith and it was necessary to further the plans his master had for the galaxy. He had even killed Jedi, a challenge he was proud to take on and even more proud to fulfill. It was also a Jedi that started the final twisting of his being.

The battle on Naboo was the beginning of the end for Maul. He battled not one but two Jedi and managed to kill who he considered to be the most dangerous of the two, Qui Gon Jinn had been an amazing adversary and died with some form of honor, at least that is what Maul thought of the man's death. The padawan however, underestimated this young man. It ended with him cut in half by a lightsaber and his fall into a deep, deep darkness.

Maul never wanted to think back as much, not about those times where he suffered and was submitted to many surgeries to restore him to a shape he once had known as being himself. Returning his lower body to him had been a long and arduous time where voices, faces, sounds and smells all became a blurry mess. He lost his strong contact with the Force and for the longest time he also lost contact with his true self. Until that one day.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maul had been traveling to several planets searching for his revenge. The latest bit of information he had gathered from several seedy places spoke of a man that had been trying to save some farmers in trouble. A male that used his mind tricks to let the pirates believe they were not in the right place with the right people and they should go for other urgent business. Just the information that Maul was looking for!

Traveling to the planet where what could only be a Jedi was supposed to be, was good for his attempts at meditation. For too long had he been in chaos, to fight a Jedi at full strength he needed to reconnect to the Force once more. The flight took several standard hours, time well spent in deep meditation where Maul managed to reach a new level of immersion in the Force. Now he felt more ready to vanquish the foe he had been searching for.

It was a simple, backwater little planet and the village he was told to go in order to find the Jedi was nothing more than a gathering of crummy shops, a dingy and very dirty bar. But, those were the places where all the best information could usually be found as well. It was the type of place where the more shady business would be handled by those who could not afford to be seen by officials. Bribery, assassinations and every other sort of criminal acts were business as usual.

The first place he stepped into was a small shop, owned by a Trandoshan and not more than a small room with what seemed to be the hand me downs from the townsfolk, but would probably still sell well enough to the poor fools that traveled through. Thumbing the fabric of a simple tunic, Maul glances at the Trandoshan and moves towards the weary shop owner.

“Can I help you?” Carefully eyeing the new customer the owner speaks first. “I have new cloaks to try if you need one?”

Maul smirks at that and slowly removes his hood while maintaining eye contact. “I was told that a miracle worker has made his way to these regions and managed to save some farmers from ending up facing their maker. I would be…..” He waits a second before finishing his sentence as if he has to think for a moment, “highly appreciative if one could introduce me to such a person.”

The owner ponders what is said for a moment before giving any kind of response. “Such a person has been said to travel around in these regions. New arrivals usually do not last long here. This person made an impression helping out some folks around here and there. Perhaps some coin could help me remember the location?” A toothy grin and gleaming eyes, the owner rubs fingers together, showing the basic sign for payment.

Maul sighs and reaches in his pocket, throws some credits on the counter and narrows his eyes. “The information better be worth it.”

Not long after, Maul leaves the small store, draws his hood back over his head and moves towards the only bar, or what is supposed to go for a bar in this place. According to the Trandoshan that is where the farmers usually come. Those who were helped by the one he seeks. Stepping in, the first thing he notices is the heavy smell of spice and sweat.

Not many folks are inside at this time of day. The majority of people are working and the ones currently there are either too intoxicated, too high or not paying attention to the newcomer because they are conducting business of their own.

Stepping up to the bar he glances around and taps a credit to garner the attention from the bartender.

“What's your poison stranger?” The droid whirs towards him grabbing for an empty glass.

“Spotchka and some information.”Maul drops some credits on the counter and looks up at the droid tending to him.

Handing him the spotchka, the droid seems to take it`s new customer in before answering. “Depending on the information you seek, I might or might not be able to provide.”

“I`m looking for that miracle worker, the one who helped out some farmers. I`m in need of some…… Help” The smile he shows does not reach his eyes and seems to even let the droid pause its movements, if only for a nano second.

“That individual has indeed been sighted here. However it is said he has left the planet after a few days since his `help` seemed to have garnered too much attention. According to the latest rumors, even the pleading of the local farmer association did not sway his mind.”

“I see, and where does one get the information needed to see if this individual did indeed leave the planet?” Maul grits his teeth as he asks for the information. If the droid was correct, he would have to find out where to go next from the travel plans and the chase would last even longer than intended. Maul was losing his patience with this chase and needed to conclude his quest for vengeance in order to move on.

Maul could easily draw out the one he is looking for, force out the one he is looking for. All he has to do is send out an invitation by means of brute force and the cries that would echo out through the force and lure his adversary in. But, that is not the confrontation that Maul wants, it is not the confrontation that Maul needs.

“For the right price, you will find that the individual sitting at the corner booth would be willing to help you get the required information. I suggest you greet him with a shot of spotchka and a well filled pocket.” The droid immediately places two glasses of spotchka in front of Maul and directs him to the person in question.

It did not take long for Maul to come to an agreement with the slicer. A couple of drinks, some explanations on what kind of intel he wanted and a credit filled pouch and a time and place to meet up was set. For now, Maul would have to sit and wait for three days. Slicing into Imperial networks was not as easy, not even on a backwater planet as the one he was currently residing on.

On the second day, Maul strolled through the dusty streets when he heard faint voices coming from behind an abandoned building. Curious, he silently moved towards the sounds and as they became more clear and he turned the corner he noticed a small group gathering around two figures.

“Please! They are just a kid. They didn't know what they were doing was wrong. They were just defending themselves.” A female voice, pleading with the people gathering around caught his attention.

“They kicked my son!”

“They bit me on my arm!”

Grumbling voices spat the accusations as the people drew closer to the two figures cowering. A young child, from the looks of it half Zabrak and half human hides behind the woman whose voice he had heard pleading.

“You scared them. They were defending themselves when you crowded them and tried to hit them. Leave them alone!” Quickly pushing the child behind her, the woman stands up straight and faces the small group. “If you want to punish someone, then punish me.”

“They stole fruit from our stall. They have been stealing for as long as they have been around. That monster should just die!” The man spitting the accusation reaches down at the ground and grabs for a small rock lying nearby.

Noticing the movement, the woman turns around and shields the child as the man throws the first rock. It hits her on the back, making her flinch as she bends her body to completely shield the child.

For a moment Maul can only watch in shock, until an old memory, an old feeling comes crashing into his mind. A young Maul, running into the wild of Dathomir, wishing to be found by someone that would protect him from being taken away by the man that felt as pure darkness. As the next stone is hurled towards the woman and child, he reaches out with his hand and stops it in midair.

Surprised by the piece of rock suddenly hanging still in the air in front of them, the people all whisper and gasp as they glance around. Only then do they notice the hooded stranger, hand stretched as if to stop them, casually strolling towards them.

“Only cowards and fools would attack a child and a woman in a group.” The softness of his voice does nothing to soothe the people as they see the building anger in his glowing eyes. When he flicks his hand, the suspended rock flings back towards the one who threw it and hits him on the nose. Blood spurts out of the nose as it breaks and the man falls back, clutching his face, muttering swearwords, or what would have been words had several of his teeth not been broken out of his mouth as well by the force with which the rock had hit him.

Quickly recognising the danger they found themselves in all of the sudden, the group dissipates, dragging the injured man with them, leaving behind a shocked child and woman kneeling on the ground.

Still holding the child in her arms as to protect it from anyone coming close, she looks up at Maul, eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“Why what?” Maul furrows his brows as he looks down at the two. He moves his hood and reveals his face, sparking some sort of recognition in the child. Another Zabrak!

“Why help us? You don't know us.” The child moves in front of her, a big toothy grin on their face as they look up at Maul.

Maul glances down at the child. “Go home and stop getting into trouble.” Having gently probed the child's mind, he found they were living together with their parents on the edge of the village, outcasts even among outcasts, but safe nonetheless with their little family together.

With a quick hug for the woman who had protected them, the child runs off home.

“Kid and you seemed as though you could use some help and I had some time to kill.“ Nodding at the retreating child, Maul smirks.

Dusting herself off, she looks at him. “And your name, great savior?”

Taken aback by her brazen attitude, Maul takes a second to gather himself before he grins. “Maul.”And yours fiery one?”

For a moment she seems to think before answering him. “Don`t have a name anymore, lost it somewhere along the line. People just call me by whatever name they seem to think fits me at the time.” She shrugs.

Maul regards the woman standing in front of him. For the small amount of time he has seen her, she has stood up for a child not of her species, taken a rock thrown at her back and not cried or complained, stood up against a small mob of people and now regards him without hesitation or showing any fear for his presence. Either she was a fool, had a death wish or she was as brave as she made herself seem to be. “Well then, I`ll just call you Tracyn.”

Stunned at the simple way he just gives her a name, she opens and closes her mouth. “Tracyn? What kind of name is that?”

“It means fire, you seem to carry it inside of you. The way you protected that child…” He trails off, not really understanding himself why he even bothered to name her, why he was even still standing there, talking to her while he could also be either meditating on board his ship or drinking at the bar. With a huff he turns around, ready to walk away while he still has some sanity left.

“Tracyn…. Tracyn….”She says the name out loud, tasting it in her mouth, letting the letters roll around and taking in the sound of it. “I like it, what language is it?” Quickly moving to walk beside him she looks sideways at him with a soft smile.

For a while he just ignores her as she falls in step with him. But, as she seems adamant to at the very least get an answer, he glances sideways before he answers. “Mando`a.”

She grins at the answer, still walking beside him she grabs hold of his arm and stops him from moving forward. “At Least allow me to thank you for your help. I have some food and drink to share, it truly is the least I can do for a kind stranger.”

Raising an eyebrow at the last part of her statement, Maul nods in agreement. Food and drink are always welcome to any traveler, he is no different in that.

Leading him to a small home, she waves at the table close to the sink where he can sit down. “It's not much, but I am certain it will do.” It is not long before Maul is eating a decent meal and has something to drink while even having a normal conversation with his host.

Tracyn, like so many others in the galaxy, had been displaced by the war that raged on for years. Once the war was over and the emperor had taken his place upon the throne, she still was displaced. With no credits to her name and the only possessions the ones she wore and carried with her, she traveled to this place and settled in an abandoned, small home near the edge of the village. At times she would try and take on odd jobs to make ends meet. No matter how much Maul fought it, the moment they met was the moment he already seemed to have gotten attached to her. The moment he gave her her name, that attachment had grown to a point where he slowly began to realize he now had a traveling companion.

—--------------------------------------------------

He never told her the full extent of his past nor of his past deeds, she never asked him to tell her either. Neither did he ask her to tell him all about herself, he figured she would come with what little or as much as she wished to share with him when she was ready. He could sense some of what had happened to her in the past through the force, especially as she slept and dreamed. Over time, the bond between them grew into something more than just companionship, more than just the trust between friends. Whatever it was that was growing between them even transcended the more common relationships that blossomed between two people in the universe.

Maul taught her to fight with a vibro blade and once the opportunity arose, he bought her a small blade that could easily be hidden among her robes. At other times he would instruct her on some basic self defense, the places they would go to would not always be safe for her, not even with her intimidating companion beside her. She enjoyed the lessons, though the ones where she would end up with several bruises from practice were not among her favorite times. Maul, still dark and intimidating, seemed to be able to relax when around her and only when in private. For all of the violence and all the bloodshed that was part of his past, Maul had found a small pocket of peace when he stepped foot on that planet some time ago.

Day by day they gathered more information on the person that Maul was in search of. He had told Tracyn that there was a man from his past he needed to find, needed to confront to finally be able to let go of a big part of his past. Though she knew there was far more to the story than he let on, she did not ask further. To Tracyn, the man that once just snuck into her life and rescued her had become a friend, a companion and slowly, over time he became so much more. She knew that sometimes he would use the force to sneak into her mind. Not to find out whatever it was that she would be hiding from him, they both kept parts of their past secret still, but to comfort her, to know that she was alright. And she was fine with that.

On Nar Shaddaa the first big change came as a surprise to Maul.

Chasing yet another lead, they had landed on the outskirts of Hutta Town moving to one of the many seedy bars present. Every type of criminal and outlaw would be somewhere on the planet and Hutta Town was where most would gather. It was the best place to begin. Unfortunately, Maul left the town with a less than stellar reputation the last time he had visited. Several thugs, under the influence of a mixture of spice and alcohol had decided, perhaps now that the man once renowned for being a big shot in the empire and after with Crimson Dawn, though none knew exactly what his role was among the crime syndicate, was no longer a person with great influence they could impart some of their own justice and revenge for past deeds against them and their families.

The bar became the decor of a rather one sided fight, ending with several bodies sprawled across the floor, flung over the bar and somehow, one sprawled over a massive beam which held up the roof. Unfortunately for one man, Tracyn had been on the receiving end of a fist. Chasing the man out of the bar, Maul made quick work of him, returned to ensure the safety of Tracyn and led her away from any other possible pursuers towards an abandoned building. Before moving back towards their ship, they would lay low for a while, making sure there was no one else following them and checking on any possible injuries. That is where Maul noticed the swelling of Tracyns jaw.

She shrugs as she explains how she had her jaw partially dislocated before and knows how to pop it back in. Placing her hand on the side of her face she suddenly yawns wide and moves her jaw from left to right. When she flinches, he knows that the jaw has popped back into it`s socket. The furrow of her brow also tells him it still hurts more than she wants to show.

Bunching up her coat to use as a pillow, she lowers herself to the ground and curls up. Hand still somewhat resting on the side of her face where she feels the pain the most, she closes her eyes.

As she drifts off into a restless sleep, Maul watches her from his place on the floor. He can sense the restlessness in the force surrounding her and sees her shiver from the cold. With a sigh he stands up and moves to sit beside her. Lowering himself he snakes an arm around her and careful as not to wake her, lifts her into his lap. He knows his lower half is cold to the touch because of the durasteel and materials that give no bodily warmth, so he places her coat on his lap before he fully lowers her onto it. Her head is tucked against his shoulder and without realizing it, she nuzzles against his neck. One of her arms snakes around his back and the other leans against his chest, her hand holding onto his shirt and crumpling it as she sighs. Using his cloak as a blanket he tucks her in and places a hand gently on the side of her head that hurts.

For the first time in what seems like ages he seems to notice a different kind of feeling in the force. He carefully reaches out into it and uses it to comfort her, to take away as much of her pain as he can without waking her and without her noticing. This feeling is new and different. Instead of the eternal dark feeling of the force, it feels light. For the first time he feels light.

Slowly his eyes begin to close and he drifts off into a dreamless sleep. The next moment when he wakes he is dazed and somewhat confused until he feels the weight of her. During the night they had fallen asleep in eachothers arms. He lays on his back with her leg sprawled over him, her arm draped over him and her head on his chest, still deep asleep. It is warm and comfortable and he refuses to move so as to not wake her from her much needed sleep. Looking at her, he vows to never let her lose this peace, ever again.

The night that Maul had woken in a frenzy after a nightmare was the day they first kissed.

They had taken refuge in a small establishment on Seylott where yet another lead to the one Maul was searching for had sent them. After a long day of chasing rumors and stories they had decided to call it a night. Sharing the same room did not mean they shared the bed. Usually Maul would insist she take the bed as he sat in meditation, this time however Tracyn insisted on taking the small couch in the room and Maul to finally get a good night's rest.

The nightmare began as it always had, Maul running into the woods as a young child, running away from a dark shape that would take him away from his family and friends. Hiding underneath a bush he closed his eyes, calmed his breathing and began to pray for someone to save him. The next moment he is in a room with a droid trying to kill him while his brother watches. Each time the droid catches Maul, another droid harms his brother. The nightmare reaches a climax as Maul begins to notice bodies stacking up in a corner of the room, his brother the last body added with eyes wide open. That is when a voice calls out to him and he feels hands shaking him. When he wakes, a blurry vision has him grab the wrists of the person shaking and calling out to him. A soft cry of pain wakes him further and his eyes focus, seeing Tracyn wincing in his grasp.He quickly lets go of her wrists, panting and searching for the right words to apologize. Tracyn only nods and softly brushes her fingers over his cheek as she softly hums. “A bad one?”

He nods and softly reaches for her wrist, rubbing a thumb over the already forming bruise. “I`m….. I`m sorry for….”

Tracyn shushes him and gives him a quick peck on the lips to calm him. Eyes wide in surprise over that action, they both stare at each other for a moment before they simultaneously reach for each other and crash their lips together in a deep kiss. In a warm embrace the kiss lasts for moments when they part again. Knowing he will try and say something, Tracyn just puts a finger on his lips and smiles. “Just…. Go to sleep Maul.”

As he lays down on his side, still somewhat dazed by what happened but delighted all the same he closes his eyes and feels the mattress move as Tracyn lies down behind him and nuzzles against his back.

Yet again, his life has taken a new turn and it confounds him, but Maul feels another flow in the force, one that is not as dark and heavy as the one he usually felt surrounding him.

Time has an odd way of getting away from you when life seems different, lighter even better.

Weeks have passed since they kissed and without actually speaking about it, they have fallen into a routine of working together, training and traveling together and when time allows, they spend time working on whatever it is that is growing deeper and more intimate between them. More accustomed to the workings of the force and how Maul uses it, Tracyn is also used to feeling his ever present mind, gently touching hers. When they are in an intimate embrace and Maul softly kisses her, she can feel him carefully touching the edges of her mind. He senses her consent and slowly moves deeper into her mind, familiarizing himself with her feelings as they embrace, how the sensation changes as he kisses her, when she kisses him. Before he even realizes it the thin line that separates his feelings and hers, that separates their emotions and sensations as they undergo them is blurred. Neither knows where the feelings and sensations of one begins and the other ends. They truly are one in the force in all but the physical body.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Before either of them truly realized it, they had begun to prioritize each other more and more while on their way to the next lead and both had undergone changes in their personality. Where Tracyn had always been the calm and passive person, the one to only defend when someone she cared for or who she deemed innocent, like children, were in danger, she now was someone who would actively step into the fray. With all the training she had received from Maul and all she had learned on their journey, she became more secure in what she could truly do. Maul, always the more aggressive one and the one to fall into a rage he unleashed whenever violence was in order, now showed more restraint as he also took into consideration Tracyn who was always by his side.

Without even realizing it right away, Maul slowly allowed thoughts to creep into his consciousness about settling somewhere. He would consider finding a place where they could find a home, a base of operations from where they could chase leads and return to rest and recover if needed. He even allowed himself a day dream of Tracyn finally being able to have a small garden where she could grow some crops. Maul had begun to become the dreamer he thought long lost in the past.

Unfortunately the galaxy was an imperfect place. Though currently filled with some warmth and peace he had longed for for so long, it seemed determined not to allow Maul to ever forget the mission he embarked on in the first place. It would not allow Maul to forget that he had been forged in the darkest depths of the Force, filled with pain, suffering and bloodshed, and Maul learned that in the harshest way.

Without ever really speaking about it, Maul and Tracyn had come to decide together that they would try and settle somewhere away from the empire, or at least from prying eyes. When yet another piece of information led them to the planet Shimia, they found it a place just right for them. A terrestrial planet with area`s sparsely populated, it was the right time and place to go and find a home. Before settling into a place they would first visit a more populated area on the planet to gather the information they could get for Mauls personal quest and move on from there. It really was the beginning of the end for Maul.

The city was not as large as some they had known or visited before, but big enough for them not to stand out, even in a crowd. Knowing that beside the information that Maul was looking for they also needed supplies it was decided that they would split up. Maul would go to the bars and other more questionable places, while Tracyn would visit the stores where she could get the food and drink supplies as well as some other items more related to actually setting up a small home and base of operations.

When Maul stepped out of the fifth place he was surprised by the sudden feeling of anxiety that came from the only person in the galaxy he had been attuned to this much. Tracyn was in trouble! Running toward where he could feel the Force pull him, he quickly met up with a pale looking and very concerned Tracyn.

“What happened? Are you injured?” Maul looks her over as he gently turns her around.

“We have to move!” Grabbing his hand and pulling him along with her, Tracyn mutters the words while her eyes dart across the place they are currently standing.

Moving along with her, Maul looks back to see if anyone is following them. When he notices no others near them and does not sense anyone around with ill intent he stops in his tracks and tugs her hand. “What is happening? Why are you so…. Worried?”

Tracyn glances around and notices an abandoned alleyway. Dragging Maul into the dark of the alley she suddenly stops and takes a deep breath.

“You never told me who exactly you are looking for and why, but I know you Maul. I am not a fool and I have been around in this galaxy for a while now with my own bit of baggage.” She smiles as she gently caresses his cheek.

“Just after I bought this last bunch of supplies, I stepped out of the store and noticed some people around the bar on the other side of the street. Maul….. Those are pirates of the worse kind! They capture people and sell them as slaves for the highest price, they gather information about everything and everyone and will sell it to the highest bidder. They know that you are wanted by the Empire. The moment they see you…..” She trails off, not wanting to even mention the possibilities of what could happen next.

With a wide grin, Maul looks at her. “Tracyn, my light…. You know I can handle some low life pirates. They are no match for me. If they even look at you wrong or even think about ratting my position out to anyone, I will dispose of them.”

Though he can feel her easing up a little, he also knows she is still far too worried. “Is there more to your worries than just my position in this galaxy?”

“Before we met, before I even settled on that planet….. I ran from one of those men. They had raided a transport I was on and took many of us prisoner with the intent to sell us to the highest bidder. One of them offered me my freedom if I married him. I accepted, but asked for it to be done officially by a holy man or woman. He agreed and once we landed on a planet and entered the shrine… I ran with the help of some locals, I never looked back.”

Maul takes a second to let the story sink in. So, this is why she was so anxious! “Let's go.”

They take off towards an abandoned building, far enough from the city for her to hide while he ensures their safety. Settling her in one of the rooms he has her sit down while he kneels in front of her. “I will keep my cloak on and my face hidden, my light, so do not worry, but I will have to go into town one more time. We will need some food and drinks and I will make sure we are not followed. I will be back soon.”

He kisses her one more time before he stands up and makes his way back into town.

What neither knew at that moment, was that rumor had spread about the Zabrak asking questions. About the woman that seemed to travel around with him and the fact that there was a security holo of the actual man in a bar conversing with the bartender. The pirates knew all too well who this Zabrak was and when they also realized who the woman he was traveling with was, they made sure to find out exactly where they were heading.

They say fortune favors the bold. In this case it did and did not. As he made his way back into town, the pirates made their way out of it. Their paths did not cross at that point, but would not long after. Maul would rage and none of the pirates would live much longer.

It was the end of the new Maul and the restart of the old Maul, with only one difference, there was a far deeper and darker rage boiling within him and he needed an outlet for it. Maul resumed his quest alone and had time to venture deeper into the galaxy and further his plans for exacting revenge in the harshest way he could think of.

—------------------------------

As time passed and Maul had turned even more to the dark side of both the Force and life itself, he found himself on Malachor, where destiny, or the Force would have him meet with the boy that would help him finish his quest in the end.

Finally, after so many years of searching and hating, Maul had found the location he had been looking for. He had found the location of the one person in the galaxy that had dared to be the beginning of his end as a master in the galaxy. As he made his way through the deserts of Tatooine, using the boy he once deemed worthy to become his apprentice, he sensed it, he felt it, and he saw him!

Readying himself for this final confrontation that would decide his own fate in the galaxy, he could only yell out with all of his hate, frustration and even his deepest sadness.

“KENOBI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

His mind goes blank for a moment only to then return to her one last time. That one last regret.

He had returned to her after he had gathered some more food and drinks for them to share before they would leave in search of a more permanent place to stay at. She was supposed to mend her ripped cloak and rest at the abandoned building where he left her but what he saw when he entered threw him into a fit of pure rage. There she was, leaning against a wall with her hand covering her forehead while several men were crowding her. One raising his hand in order to strike her, one holding an arm and squeezing it while the rest seemed to check their belongings and look at their comrades handling the woman they held. They had dared to enter the building Maul and her had been taking refuge in and they had dared to lay a hand on her!

Pure rage had taken over as he fought through the group that had dared to challenge him. They had dared to touch his woman, his light and now would pay the price for such insolence. Reaching deep within the Force, summoning it`s power, he jumped, dodged, deflected and slashed through them with the greatest ease. A glimpse of the cut on her forehead had caused him to be blind to everything else around him.

Raising his hands, he gathered the debris of crumbled walls and left behind waste and flung it at his enemies. His exploding rage causes walls to crumble down further and other materials inside the building to fly up and fall to the floor. With all enemies dead, he finally began to calm down and turn around to take care of her.

“No.”

One word that contained so much emotion, so much of himself and all his hidden desires. One word, uttered with so much despair it resonated throughout the Force.

In the blink of an eye he was at her side, carefully lifting her limp body to his chest. “Nonononono!”

Even before he noticed the stab wound at her side, the Force had already alerted him to her fading presence as he calmed down from his initial rage. Now, he stared at the blood dripping to the ground and the smear on his hand before he looked back at her beautiful face.

A watery smile formed at her lips as he kissed her. “Don`t leave me.” He buried his face in the crook of her neck and for the first time in what felt like forever, tears fell down his cheeks.

“Love you — Not your fault—.” Her broken whispers of reassuring love in his ear were the last words he heard before she passed on.

Back in the present it is his limp body that is resting in the arms of his arch nemesis. The duel was quickly decided and Kenobi had struck as he had struck Kenobi's master once. A few words are spoken as he is ready to pass beyond this life.

Ben Kenobi notices the difference in Maul. A feeling of peace takes over from the chaos, the rage and the deep grief he felt just before this moment. Suddenly, a strange feeling of warmth changes the flow of the Force once more.

Maul's dying eyes are suddenly blinded when he hears his name uttered gently in a familiar voice. A hand reaches out to caress his cheek when her face appears in front of him. A force ghost? But, she was no Jedi, nor Sith.

“Love transcends all Maul. It's time. We can be together again, my love.”

Maul smiles and closes his eyes one last time. “Yes, my light.”

Ben Kenobi chuckles as he says his final farewell to an old foe and leaves the burial sight behind him. “I suppose love can conquer even beyond death.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly@chaoticvampirejedi@hellothere-generalangsty@cyroku@reluctant-mandalore@uponrightful@zinzinina@saradika@galacticgraffiti@ashotofspotchka@dindjarindiaries@dinbeskarbaby@djarrex@djarinsbeskar@rowansparrow@photogirl894@rigelmoonshine@rigel-the-moonstrider@nahoney22@loth-wolffe@neon-junkie@bobafetts-princess@cyarbika@charnelhouse@zoeykallus@kin-rokku@jgvfhl@honestly-shite@here-comes-the-moose@dindjarindiaries@firstofficerwiggles@fictional-men-ruin-lives @ladysongmaster @lozalot @moonstrider9904@lorjukka@m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @rain-on-kamino @monako-jinn-stories

#Darth Maul #Maul #Maul x OFC #Maul fanfic

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trashy1turtle · 11 months

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Yeah, I'm fine

*Types "«character name> x reader" into tumblr search bar*

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rancidsugar · 28 days

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Fan-art for the fanfic - The Ghost of Our Future

#star wars #art #fanart #digital art #star wars rebels fanart #star wars rebels #sw rebels #ezra bridger #darth maul #sith #I wish there was more dark side era stuff with maul and Ezra AHHHH #star wars fanart #fanart for fanfic #THIS IS MY APOLOGY FOR NOT UPDATING MY FANFIC FOR LIKE 5 months 😭🙏#IM GOING INSANE #like my second time drawing Darth Maul so I’m very proud 😅#Ezra Bridger angst #angst

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circle-around-again · 1 month

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Rebels Maul and yoda had so much in common being creepy old freakish men living in fetid squalor. they were on opposite ends of the space magic political spectrum but by god they wouldve been bros

#i need a fanfic where they just live together and hit each other over the head with spatulas and go No! Mine!#exclusively speaking in riddles and giggles but its all really deep philosophy #and they both find peace with the unthinkable...#maul #yoda #star wars

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thenightmarketofdathomir · 6 months

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Trick or Treat!!

Do you remember that time in Wrath of Darth Maul when Talzin took a little nick of Maul's blood, then later used it in the Talisman of Finding given to Savage to retrieve his lost, unhinged brother from Lotho Minor after some jerk Jedi cut him in half?

What if that's not all Talzin used Maul's blood for?

Pairing: Nightsister Reader x Shadowperson Maul Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2,534 words Warnings: Grief mention, dub con, power dynamics, dps, necromancy, horror imagery Notes: A current knowledge of Star Wars: Ahsoka is required to best understand the insinuations here. The "Reader" character plays with perspective to put you in the driver's seat, but she exists in canon.

Summary: Alone on your ancestral homeworld, Dathomir, you call to the spirits of your long-dead sisters, but something else answers instead.

Black spheres are an omen, you remember, staring up at Dathomir’s twin moons for the first time, your feet firmly planted on ancestral soil:

A cryptic portent writ into the book of Gethzerion by another of your kin before the tome was lost, but what was lost can be reclaimed. The thought harries you, tugging at your skirts like the spirited winds that trundle through Dathomir’s peaks. The air tastes of ash and dirt, humid with the bog reek of the endless grave thorn forests whose silent, empty pods sway above your passage towards the mountain.

Your ship is mired in the swamp behind you.

There is no way out. No way back. Only forward into an uncertain future.

The cold breath of opened graves breathes new life into everything that slumbers when your footsteps lead you into the temples of your fallen sisters.

You’ve never been here before, but the spirits that plague your dreams mapped the way across the stars from core worlds to the Quelli sector, beckoning you back to red shores and silent peaks on a pilgrimage to find nothing at all —

Nothing save the dead.

The carved effigies to the ancient mothers await, staring down at you with dark eyes and distended mouths, and everywhere, everything is at unrest. The Force churns. Nothing lives here but the memory of the old ways persists.

You hear it in the echoes and whispers, disembodied and powerless.

The mountain is a mausoleum.

Bones everywhere.

Trampled.

Piled and burned otherwise by soldier’s hands. Men. Handling the bodies of sacred warriors who should have been dressed and placed with care into their hanging coffins to rise again when beckoned to their fulfill their duty:

Death is not the end.

Death is a threshold.

You know this.

But you’ve never understood dishonour until you see the bones of your sacrificed sisters scattered and piled and broken and charred. They died defending Dathomir. They died with honour. Disgraced in death.

You feel their loneliness.

Their rage.

Their hunger to be avenged.

Empty eye sockets stare from all corners of the old lair, bones bleached and flesh desiccated. No power here. Nothing left. Not a drop of the ichor for your dry hands, dusted with their ashes and their dead flesh so lovingly caressed.

Arise.

Awake, you beckon them —

No one listens.

They were never properly prepared.

You sink to your knees.

You lie down.

The Force drifts in eddies, but the dead offer no wisdom and no answers. Alone and abandoned without answers or even solutions.

You find stillness among your dead kindred, curled there on the dusty red floor of your ancestral home, awaiting a sign that your journey has meaning and that not everything is lost —

Not the books, nor the legends, nor the voices of the fallen, hours passing as gloomy day drifts to dreary night while the ghasts creep from their cave dwellings and the feeble light finally wanes.

It takes everything in you to rise from the hard stone cavern where you’d slumped, curled into yourself, fingernails raking through red dust with your cheek to the dirt as if your tears alone might offer relief where there is none. The ache runs deep. Grief is a bottomless well. The Dark Side offers only anger to fill the empty places.

On Dathomir, nights are long and the darkness remembers an older world, where the sounds of distant predators creep from their hiding places to hunt the weak beyond the mountain.

You build a fire so you can better see what lurks in the little crannies. Beyond it, the shadows splay up the cavern walls, pulling long streaks of graduated black from the shrines and braziers, the windows where the Nightsisters dwelled little better than a columbarium.

All is silent, the flames flickering red and orange and yellow. The mists shift across the water but there is no ichor. You wish you could feel it — that archaic power spoke of in the sacred texts.

You’ve never understood loneliness. The Force has always provided, its unerring presence a constant in your life, but maybe there is a lesson here: in order to understand what you’re missing, you must first face death in all its many acts of decomposition: what you’ve found in your dismay is a civilization buried.

Wasted.

You’ve never felt anything like it. It creeps into the hollows of your being with little black tendrils, the shadows surrounding you breathing closer as the flames flicker, emboldened by your inaction.

You can’t feel them, and distracted by the way your power strains around you at the discomfort of so much nothing, you don’t feel the interloper’s presence until it’s too late.

You don’t belong here, it whispers, rising the down on the back of your neck. Your kind is dead, my dear.

Your voice echoes through the chamber. “Who’s there? Show yourself, stranger.”

Laughter trickles; disembodied and floating to the ceiling, from the crevasses, across the river. It’s everywhere — he is everywhere.

No Nightsister would dare threaten one of their descendants.

The warmth of your body beneath your ceremonial wrappings attracts it, maybe, or the blaze of the flame after so long without light in dark places. The fire gutters — little better than a candle when the wind rises like a breath moaning through the ancient cavern.

The fire shivers, ash and cinder scattering. You feel it finally:

The old. The forgotten. The rage that drives it.

Unfamiliar.

Embers bank the walls, sending up sparks revealing nothing at all as you twist to look over your shoulder. Nothing there. No spirits. No magicks.

But how easy it was to forget the first lesson as the cold slither that passes your toes and ensnares your ankles in dark tendrils:

Some shadow things persist even when you remove the light that casts them.

The fire dies, and you’re plunged into darkness as your body jerks forward through the dirt, a swirl of embers revealing the after-image of a figure that wavers before you feel the smothering heft absent a body. He’s on top of you: an impression of broad shoulders, a smear of limbs that might’ve once been a man flinging you onto your stomach, the elongated spears stretching from the crown of his head, the weight of your face is pressed into the dirt where you left tears like offerings but not your scraped skin.

Horns, you think.

A Nightbrother, or what’s left of him.

This is my world now, the voice growls into your ear.

He jerks you forward, intent on instilling fear where you only feel indignation.

Let this be a lesson from an old Master: no one trespasses.

A tongue of shadow licks across your chin and down your throat into the folds of your robes. It’s cold. And the shadow creature is a pervert. You shiver against the intrusion, flesh pebbling against the sensation.

“Dathomir is not your inheritance, demon,” you tell it, your muscles rigid and straining against the strength in those shadowy tendrils that brace you against the floor.

His voice reverberates, humming through your skull. My claim is stronger. I was born here.

He could beat you until you broke beneath him. He could suffocate you with darkness. But he doesn’t.

Perhaps you already know the answer why.

A flicker of shadow coils up your thigh, licking over your backside and around your waist. Finger of shade raking through your hair. Investigating. Seeking something familiar from the foreign. Perhaps it’s power he craves — dominion over the matriarchs that kept him subservient. Perhaps revenge.

Despite your resilience, your breathing hitches when the sensation tickles over the shell of your ear. You grimace.

“You’re trapped here,” you tell him. “All alone in the darkness. No living soul to offer you entertainment.”

The spindles of shadow wrapping you tighten, rising you up to your knees and binding your movements. Like ropes, they notch closer, squeezing your flesh into contortions that make it difficult to draw breath. It’s uncomfortable, and meant to threaten, but he’s toying with you in a way that makes you think he’s interested… or perhaps it’s been too long since he’s touched anything living.

Maybe he misses it.

“If that’s all you can accomplish, then I suggest you remember your place.”

His laughter reverberates down your spine, curling around your bones as easily as if he could sink into your body through your clothes. The fabric flutters, plucked by so many invisible fingers that you realize the lack of substance doesn’t mean he can’t choose for himself the form he takes.

Witch, your threats are misplaced. I am no servant. I do not obey.

Prideful thing. You remember the old ways. The old teachings. The efforts to power that maintained equilibrium.

“What’s your name?”

A glance at your pinned wrists reveal a slant of shadow across your skin — the strength in his grip unyielding. This was a warrior, once. You are certain. You remember the vitriol, the rage.

I — he falters.

The strain in the silence ripples into waves that break across your body, and then in shivers.

Anger threatens. I do not remember.

“Perhaps you weren’t given one.”

No. I had a mother.

“You’re a spirit, then.”

An echo. A collection of impressions absent memory to bind them.

“A shadow.”

A shadow, he agrees. Whatever is left when the body dies and the soul cannot evanesce.

Interesting. Nightbrothers believe in something different — lands of plenty. A place steeped in bounty.

“Have you no body? No anchor to resurrect under the right conditions?”

The hesitation costs him, because there is much revealed of longing through silence.

You have no such power over the ichor.

“That was not my question.”

A lilting hesitation. In another place, perhaps. A long way from here. Bones are brittle, but the mechanics — he trails away. I do not know why that preoccupies me.

Dust trickles across the floor, like sand flittering over dunes at a distance — pulled in glittering, dark waves that dance in swirls as he stirs them with his near-translucent fingers. He’s the wind. He’s everywhere. He is nothing.

And more:

He is lonely.

You understand it as surely as you sense the feeling that lingers: wasted potential. A wasted life. Pushed around by forces greater than him. But you can sense him. You feel him, as sure as the nexus. Intriguing.

“Perhaps it is purpose you’re missing,” you suggest, a plan formulating.

Destiny.

The sound shudders around you, trilling down your arms and across your belly, notching between your legs to puddle with the vibration. The air around you moves with the word, and you know it’s significant to him, even if he can’t remember the particulars. You shudder with the tremulous air, your bindings loosened just enough that you can feel how his grip has left you tender. And, heartbeat throbbing in the places where he touched you, you find enough slack to turn your head.

“Yes.”

The Force stirs, the nexus restless. Everything churns and you know, somehow, that this moment was fated. He did not bring you here, but perhaps the Mothers wished you to find him — this lost son of Dathomir — to give him new purpose.

You watch him, visible only on the periphery of your sight as his density gathers strength, layers sliding together like sheaves to create form from nothing. So powerful. So eager.

“Shadows shouldn’t have strength,” you tell him. “But you are more than that, aren’t you?”

He hesitates again. Perhaps he is trying to remember.

“Would you like to be, stranger?” you ask him.

Carefully, you tug a hand free. Lifting it, you raise your fingers in a familiar gesture — a curve of your digits and you slide into that in-between where green flickers edge the darkness.

Something lingers.

Something special in this one.

Tread carefully, witch, he murmurs. You’ll find this form isn’t so receptive to your tender ministrations.

Ichor shimmers along the outline of his figure — nebulous and uncertain, but bearing markings of a life half-remembered, obscured by tragedy and distance.

You strain, the effort leaving sweat beading along your brow, but the sensation catches all at once, and tugs him into you, dissolving on a breath that rains ichor around you in delicate, green shimmers.

Magick lives on in him, even without form or substance. You feel the being’s shudder. It warbles on the air around you, landing like an unsteady hand on your shoulder as if to brace himself.

“So many would shatter without a Nightsister’s blessings. You must have curried great favour from the clan Mothers,” you murmur, appreciative of the show.

Quiet punctuates his hesitation.

“I can help you.”

The words hang.

Presumably if I extend the same courtesies, he murmurs.

A smile threatens. You bow your head, acquiescing.

Indeed.

“There is a word in old Dathomiri I think might suit you nicely,” you tell him.

To what purpose?

“Something to call you, if it suits. A courtesy.”

Another hesitation.

“It is tradition that to Name something confers power to it. A grace of not forgetting that it is known, and appreciated.”

A squeeze, and tendrils slither — a myriad of serpentine limbs drawing you closer into the offset where his edges blur and deepen, a form coming together without details or features, only the rough timber of his voice to guide your chin upward as if he’d crooked a finger beneath your chin.

I will not call another ‘Master,’ he murmurs.

The soft viciousness of the assurance leaves you wondering.

“A gesture of our partnership,” you offer again.

He likes that better, you think.

“I cannot subdue a creature that I cannot grasp in my fingers,” you explain. That small smile again. You let him see it.

I am not partial to subjugation, he says. But perhaps, with persuasion, I might be willing to negotiate on the particulars of our arrangement.

Invisible fingers stroke over your shoulder and down your chest, steady and curious as they dip into your bellybutton and between your legs. You part your knees a little as if welcoming his exploration.

The air hums with his interest. Your skirts lift and flutter, everything inside you roiling at the feeling:

Power beyond measure threads through your fingertips when he takes your hands in his, lifting your arms overhead to hold you in place. Who was he, you wonder?

A lick of cold curls against the heat of your sex, resting there as if he knows he belongs there.

Then perhaps the second order of business is a body, my Lady.

“What is the first?”

Against your ear, you feel the shape made by his lips, the trail of a tongue tasting your sweat and the barest trickle of fear as fingers split into tongues to burrow deeper into the warmth of your body. Curious. Or maybe controlling, because you gasp a breath as those fingers grow firmer and thicken.

What will you call me under circumstances where I’d prefer you to scream it?

Fingertips shiver against your lips, begging to seal your bargain with a kiss.

“Marrok,” you whisper, your breath hitching as another tendrils presses against the pucker of your ass, the one in your cunt throbbing larger with every second that passes, stretching you to fit every part of his ichor-infused being.

You sigh at the feeling of fullness as your body succumbs, letting him cradle you as you sink into his darkness.

“Marrok,” you say again before the word is stolen with the press of his tongue to yours.

‘Shadow,’ he murmurs, appreciative of the translation. How fitting.

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is-that-sand-in-my-waffles · 6 months

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#star wars #polls #personally I would like to be a togruta #or a dathomirian zabrak the og catboys #<- my source on that is all fanfic ft. maul #togruta #twilek #zabrak #lasat #wookie #chiss #mon calamari #yoda's species #weequay #jawa #duros

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samantha-rae-velcher · 6 months

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Master List Pt. 2

YouTubers

Swaggersouls

Streamers Dream - smut

Markiplier

Games of the many - smut

Joysticks and pushing buttons - smut

Sticks and stones - smut

That one look - smut

The punishment unforgotten - Violence/smut

A need for it and her - smut

The stress is real - fluff

"Im sorry, honey" - fluff

Roomies or More? (Egos) - smut

Yancy NSFW alphabet - smut

Love mistaken for hate (Wilford Warfstache) - fluff

Don't fear the reaper (Darkiplier) - smut

Dark lust (Darkiplier) - smut

Static (Darkiplier) - smut

Warp core breech Pt.1 (ISWM) - fluff

Warp core breech Pt.2 (ISWM) - fluff

Seeing Stars (ISWM) - fluff

Jacksepticeye

Blue tint and cold tiles - smut

Marvel

Me and the Devil walking side by side (Daredevil) - fluff

Sorcerer Supreme (Doctor Strange) - smut

More like Einstein (Tony Stark) - smut

Two tons of iron (Tony Stark) - smut

Green-ish (Bruce Banner) - smut

Tender Touch (Scott Lang) - smut

The speed of light (Pietro Maximoff) - fluff

Courts of Green Pt.1 (Bucky Barnes) - fluff

Courts of Green Pt.2 (Bucky Barnes) - fluff

Courts of Green Pt.3 (Bucky Barnes) - Violence/ fluff

Feathers and Swords (Clint Barton) - smut

Hawks gold (Clint Barton) - fluff

As beautiful as an angel (Yondu Udonta) - fluff

Fear makes love (Ronan the accuser) - smut

Sharp as steel (Wolverine) - smut

Blades that steel the heart (Wolverine) - fluff

Obviously not that obvious (Drax the Destroyer) - smut

Tattoo Buddies (Chato Santana) - fluff

Soldier Boy (Rick Flag) - smut

Slice and dice (Captain boomerang) - smut

Scars and stripes (BOP Victor Zsasz) - smut

TWD

Guns of blazing love (Aaron) - smut

Maybe evil Maybe not But just about (Shane) - smut

Barbed Wire Pt.1 (Negan) - smut

Barbed Wire Pt.2 (Negan) - Smut

Barbed Wire Pt.3 (Negan) - Violence/fluff

Barbed Wire Pt.4 (Negan) - Violence/fluff

Barbed Wire Pt.5 (Negan) - smut

Barbed Wire Pt.6 (Negan) - Violence/fluff

Barbed Wire Pt.7 (Negan) - Violence/fluff

Barbed Wire Pt.8 (Negan) - fluff

Star Wars

The light within (Qui Gon Jinn) - fluff

The force of two (Qui Gon Jinn) - fluff

The force binds all (Obi Wan Kenobi) - smut

The intimidating side of things (Boba Fett) - smut

Orders (Poe Dameron) - angst/ fluff

Black ink (Darth Maul) - smut

The Witcher

How The Witcher men react when you cry - fluff

Bard and Bells (Jaskier) - fluff

Gotham

Gotham Villains teaching s/o to shoot a gun

Gotham Villains when s/o doesn't answer the phone

How Gotham Villains react to their s/o getting shot

Sexting with Oswald Cobblepot - smut

Gotham's King and Queen (Oswald Cobblepot) - angst

I will kill you (Oswald Cobblepot) - fluff

Emperor Penguin (Oswald Cobblepot) - smut

Smoking Roses Pt.1 (Victor Zsasz) - smut

Smoking Roses Pt.2 (Victor Zsasz)- smut

Tainted Riddle (Ed Nygma) - fluff

What am I? (Ed Nygma) - fluff/Violence

Five-O (Jim Gordon) - smut

Stalked (Jeremiah Valeska) - Violence/fluff

Fantastic Beasts

Blue fire and silver smoke (Gellert Grindelwald) - fluff

Heaven without fear (Credence Barebone) - smut

Boardwalk Empire

Gentleman with a dark side (Arnold Rothstein) - smut

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eloquentmoon · 1 year

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By The Light Of The Second Moon

A Darth Maul x F/AFAB!Reader Fanfiction

chapter eighteen: all that glitters

{previous chapter} / {next chapter} / {fic masterlist} {read chapter on ao3} / {read entire fic on ao3}

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Your dazzling new life on Coruscant is not all that you dreamed it would be. RATING: Explicit. This work is strictly for those 18+ due to sexual content. MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT. CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 6.7k CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: Listed beneath the cut. CHAPTER SONGS: without you, ursine vulpine, annaca. love you more, llynks. A/N: Hello lovely readers. A friend's OC appears in this chapter - Risha was created by @elledjarin. A big thank you to her for letting me write her character. Apologies for the absence, I needed a break. But now I'm back and ready to finally wrap up this story. Beware, this is an angsty one. Eternally grateful for your support, El ♡

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: loneliness, confusion, betrayal, trauma response, panic attack, threat, violence, murder.

Chapter Eighteen All That Glitters

“Keep your head down,” instructs Maul rather sternly, draping you in one of his inky black robes. He slowly lifts the large hood to hide your face, his touch lingering, as though he is hesitant to hide you away. He then raises his hood, concealing his own distinctive features. He takes your small bag, filled with all your belongings in the galaxy, and grips your shaking fingers in his own. Without a further word, he gently helps you down the entry ramp and to the surface of the planet, and into the very heart of the Republic, the thriving hub of the Core worlds.

The next few hours swarm with urgent movement. Time streams past you like the leaves of the Great Wood in autumn winds. Maul was able to stealthily land the starship in a vast docking station, and the gleaming durasteel of its flooring looks as though it stretches on forever. Your legs quiver with each step you take, the metallic thud of your footsteps foreign to ears so used to soil. Your stomach turns with every industrial sound, with every droid that buzzes by, each bright artificial light hurting your eyes. The constant flurry of people makes your strained vision swim with vertigo. All different kinds of people you have never seen before, so many people. You and Maul move swiftly, hand in hand, going up and down platforms, in and out of carriages that shoot you through the vast city. This vibrant forever city. It never seems to end.

Maul takes complete control, so knowing and determined, his eyes fixed forward beneath his hood, silent. Every so often he places his palm on your lower back, as if to check that you're still standing. His competence is an anchor to the commotion of the newness around you, a comfort to your complete ignorance and lack of understanding. You don’t have much choice other than to trust that he knows what is best for you. Your anxiety builds with every step, his words from the starship ringing in your ears. You look up to try and distract yourself, watch for the clouds or the stars or the moons - but all you can see are buildings. You can no longer even see the sky, now you are so deeply entrenched in this city-planet.

As you whizz through this strange and unfamiliar metropolis, you find yourself circling back to the same fixation to cope with the chaos of this new place. Your fear is held back in your own strange, disconnected way. You focus on a silent quest that you have never had the opportunity to embark on before. You realise that you are looking at each person you pass in their face, scouring their features for something, some kind of recognition. After what feels like an hour you make sense of what you are doing: that you are seeking the features of her. Your Mother. You see her in each of the hundreds of skin tones, each new race, each gender and style of person. You see her in the odd buskers that play strange instruments on the streets, you see her in the women that huddle together and squeak at one another in excitement. You see her in the parents that coddle their children, in the street vendors and market stall owners, the pompous folk strutting around in flowing robes as though they are floating. But you mainly see her in the faces of those who suffer. You see her in the bodies that litter the ground, without an aim or a home. You see her in the drunken souls that shout and holler through the crowds, the crying children and angry men. You see her in those that wander the streets in obvious involuntary solitude. You surprise yourself, because though it is spiteful, you catch yourself hoping that you will see her in a state similar to those that have clearly been broken by the unkindness of living. You want to see her intoxicated, destitute and alone. Because one question spins through your mind as Maul leads you through the biggest city in the universe, as resentment and fury burns inside your guts.

How could she leave you?

You wonder if she would recognise you, if she saw you now. If she’d cry in relief, disbelief or amazement. If she’d shrivel up in shame. What if she has a whole new family? That last thought forms a lump in your throat, and suddenly you want her to feel pain, feel your pain: the pain that she caused by leaving you. Any understanding or empathy you held for her now dissipates in the hot, polluted air. You are shaking now, not with trepidation, but with rage. Your temper blossoms wildly, replacing all of your apprehension and excitement. Your eyes sting with the threat of unshed, wrathful tears. Maul does not react, though you know he must be sensing your discontent. He pulls you along, holds your hand a little tighter, and you continue your silent search for your mother in the faces of strangers.

The more time that passes, the more people, speeders, noises, smells and sights you encounter. The more unique faces that you interrogate with scowling eyes. Until soon, Maul stops, and sits you down gently on a bench in what appears to be a small food district, placing your belongings at your side. You keep your eyes tracked on him, wide, disbelieving. Your own rage is set aside as you notice that Maul seems agitated, as though he is on edge and raring to separate himself from you. Your stomach drops, fury transforming into dread, as you are suddenly and vibrantly aware of his wishes, of how naive you have been. His true nature dawns on you once again, his priorities, his life’s purpose. The conversation you had with him in the starship comes back to you once more, and you wonder what tiny sliver of significance you even are to him? What space, if any, do you take up in his cold, brutal hearts?

“Stay here. Do not talk to anybody. I have somewhere I need to be.” You blink at him, unable to compute his callousness. “I will return in good time.”

Is he serious? But before you can object, he swiftly steps backwards, is lost to the heaving crowds, and is gone. And though you are sitting in the heart of the most densely populated location in existence, you have never felt so terribly, unfathomably alone.

At first you are unsure what to do with yourself, and sit on your bench with a straight back, nervous and intimidated by all the people around you, hyper aware of their proximity. You watch them all, still unable to prevent yourself from looking for your Mother. All these people. People who so easily ignore you, walking by as though you are not even sitting there.

It isn’t long until you notice your stomach rumbling. To distract yourself from the shock of being dumped in some strange place by Maul to fend for yourself, you eye up the range of strange alien cuisines, wondering what each would taste like. Your gaze settles on a four armed man who is tossing up something into the air...odd looking pieces of…bread?

“I wouldn’t…if I were you,” comes a soft voice to your left.

The voice is shy, even sweet. But it still makes you jump. “E-Excuse me?”

“That particular dish does not suit human appetites.”

You turn towards the sound of the voice and see the speaker. She is a woman of a species you have never encountered before. She is rather tall, and has skin of the brightest and most compelling blue. Her skin is like the sky on the Planet in midsummer, and the markings on her face are as white as the clouds. Instead of hair atop her head there are two large horn-shaped growths that reach upwards in the direction of the planet’s surface, and beneath them, framing her face are three long appendages; one hanging behind her at her back, and two in front of each shoulder. You recognise that they are similar to the lekku of the Twi'leks, and you wonder where she comes from. She has thick white stripes across the blue of them, and once again you are reminded of cloud-touched skies. The woman slips onto the bench beside you, and you hear the delicate tinkle of her silver jewellery that adorns her head, face, wrists.

“You’re new here,” she says as a matter of fact.

“Oh,” you reply. “Is it so obvious?”

“Kind of,” she pauses, a little hesitant, and then leans closer. “I like your accent. I don’t think I have heard anything quite like that before. Can I ask where you are from?”

Accent? It never dawned on you that you’d have one. “Very far away,” you reply awkwardly. After a pause you realise that the stranger would probably appreciate a better answer. “Well, I …I think the planet is known as Sushariel.”

“The outer rim?” she asks curiously.

“Yes.”

“Ah,” she says, and purses her lips slightly. You recognise in her expression a stunted curiosity. You can see her refraining from asking more of you about where you came from, what world you left behind. It is then that you can see yourself in her, that glint of excitement when meeting somebody new, from so many stars away. What stories and experiences come with such a soul?

“Is it your first time on Coruscant?” she enquiries politely.

“Yes, it is.”

“I know how daunting and exciting that can be. I moved here from my home planet not long ago. Coruscant is a magnificent place, but a little overwhelming at first.”

You nod in agreement, reminding yourself to take a deep breath. You inhale the sweet and spicy scents of a multitude of foods being bought and sold around you. The odd aromas alongside the tall woman’s voice begin to ground you slightly. However, you are still wrecked with such an engulfing sense of isolation and anxiety that you are unable to respond, but: you have stopped instinctively looking for your Mother. A wave of relief settles across your shoulders.

“Oh!” she exclaims. “I’m so sorry, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Risha.” Risha flashes you a warm smile, and you feel your eyes prickle with tears at her sincerity and kindness. You tell her your name in return, and find yourself thanking the stars that such a gracious woman found her way to your side at your time of such fervent loneliness and upheaval.

"What kind of food do you like?”

“Well...we eat a lot of fruit where I come from.”

Risha points at a small stall to the north side of the food court in response, where a small elderly Duros woman hunches over a stall of what appears to be fruits of varying shapes and sizes. “Try anything from Old Dira over there. She has the sweetest produce in this quadrant.” She flashes you a smirk. “Those shiny little green berries are my favourite.”

“Thank you, so much,” you manage to say. “I would have no idea where to begin.”

A beeping noise begins to flare from a pocket at her waist. “Stars,” Risha mutters, silencing a strange looking device. “I have to go, I’m going to be late for class.” She stands up, straightening a pretty sash at her hips, that hangs down her legs, over her long, flowing skirt. Her clothing is light and breezy, and reminds you of those that you once owned in girlhood. Her sparkling jewellery twinkles under the glare of the bright lights, and you are struck by how pretty she is. Your hands start to twitch, gravitating to your sketching tools in your bag. How badly you would like to draw this warm, thoughtful stranger. Then she asks, “where are you staying?”

You do not know what to say in response. Where are you staying? Where are you going to go? What if Maul doesn’t come back?

“I haven’t quite figured it out yet,” you try to sound casual instead of panicked. “There were complications. I have a…a… friend who is figuring it out now.”

“That’s okay! These things happen.” Risha smiles in understanding, though she seems hesitant to leave you by yourself. “I study at the University, and I am often on shift in the library. Visit me? I’d love to hear about your home planet.”

You nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely. It has been so nice to meet you, Risha. Thanks for your advice.”

She bows her head and walks away, and you watch her meander through the crowd, a tall blue beacon of grace and compassion. You suddenly feel less broken after your encounter with her. Your belief in the kindness of strangers flares back to life, and you smile widely looking toward the fruit stall Risha recommended. Maul’s betrayal and rather stark apathy still stings, of course, but the coursing joy of hope roars in your veins. You are in a glittering, bright new world.

You are about to head over to buy some berries, but soon remember that you have no money to make a purchase. Your face licks with heat, embarrassment at your own stupidity and ignorance. How are you going to do anything without money? How are you going to do anything without Maul? The thought makes your insides lurch slightly, trepidation and dread twisting your stomach. You look down at your feet, awash with a sense of foreboding, but then you notice a little glint in your peripheral vision. On the bench at your side are a few strange pieces of rectangular durasteel. Republic credits, “accidentally” left behind, courtesy of your new friend Risha.

Moons bless you, Risha.

You vow to visit the library, to pay her back her kindness as soon as you can.

You nibble on the strange little berries you bought from Old Dira. They are good, sweeter than any fruit on your home planet, and the tiny bursts of fructose slightly soothe your bleating worries. With no sign of Maul, you find yourself growing restless and decide to go for a walk, to stretch your legs and see what the city has to offer. If you're lucky, even clear your mind a little. You conversed with the elderly lady as you made your purchase, asking if there was anything to see nearby. She did not speak much, but pointed upwards with her long pale green fingers, indicating that you should head up as high as you can. So now you wander, berries in hand, bag on your shoulder. Exploring, using what is left of your credits to pay for fast transport upwards.

You eventually arrive on a large platform, high enough on the surface that you are looking out upon the city. Speeders and taxis zip across the sky in orderly yet swiftly moving queues of traffic. The lights from the buildings are endless, there are an infinite amount of them, each one filled with souls from all walks of life. It is still so incomprehensible how many people there are here.

And your Mother may be one of them.

You breathe away the thought, relinquishing her hold on you, if only for the moment, to look up at the sky. It is so hazy, strangely muted and blurred, so unlike the clarity of the skies of your home planet. You are unaware of the time, but assume it is the early evening by the dusky birch colour of the sky.

You walk the length of the platform, passing the multitudes of strangers. Watching them. Couples stroll arm in arm, workers jest with one another, lone joggers exercise. You lean against the railings, surveying the forever city, totally unsure of what to do next. When should you return to the spot Maul left you? Has he truly left you? Does he have any intention of returning? What does he expect of you? Should you even go back? You imagine disappearing into the city, hiding behind the many people here, responding to his apathy by abandoning him in return out of sheer spite. Never to see him again. You resent how much heartache the idea induces, how the possibility of living without him is entirely shattering. How likely that possibility is...

Your melancholy is broken by the cheers and laughter of a group of young adults walking in your direction. They look like party goers by their attire, and they holler together like a strange, joyful choir. Colourful limbs wrap around each other, their voices whooping and singing. Rich in hope, melodic. You ponder the occasion, envy the comfort of a large group of friends, of being so known. How does it feel to be a part of such mirthful exultation?

A pretty Mirialan woman in the group giggles and releases a burst of sparkling lights from a small device. They whizz and pop around them, bright colours flashing, zipping, illuminating the warm industrial air. A flash of vivid green flares across your vision and gives you pause, and when a red light bursts forth from the group, you see it cut through a young teenage boy draped in sacred robes, his boyish features twisted with the agony of failure. You try to shake yourself out of it, but there he is: young Farley, stabbed in front of your eyes once more. The lights are there, the rain is on your skin, you fly backwards and then: the water in your lungs, wringing you of air. The currents lap at your legs, pulling you down to the depths. Your skin prickles, your insides are sick with nausea, and it is as though the hazy sky has wrapped itself around you, inside and out. It suffocates you. You are drowning again, and this time Maul has left you to your fate at the bottom of the river, completely alone.

“Miss? Are you alright?” You hear a modulated voice that seemingly comes from a large man of another species that you do not recognise. The group with the lights have long since passed you, and yet you cannot get your breath back. Your vision blurs, and you sway on your feet. You sense the voices of other people approaching, the cool durasteel of the platform floor on your palms. The air ripped from your lungs as gravity pulls you to the cold ground.

But then a pair of smooth hands helping you to your feet. “Do not crowd her, give her space, please.”

“I’m okay,” you try to mutter, the colours of the lights having thrown you into what feels like total oblivion. Is this how you die? After all that has happened?

“Breathe,” someone tells you. You can’t make sense of the voice that comforts you, but you do see a Twi’lek man at your side. He walks you to a bench, settling beside you. “You look unwell. Can I contact anyone for you?”

“No, no…” you try to stand but the watery sky clenches at your lungs and you wobble. The crowd has dispersed.

“Take your time.”

You are moved by such kindness, such care from this man who owes you nothing. And yet, there is total apathy from the man you believed held feelings for you. How can strangers care more for your well being than the man you have bared your body and soul to? The man who's love you can still feel the ache of between your thighs?

As if manifesting him with your thoughts, you suddenly feel his eyes, heavy on your back. The man at your side seems totally unaware of Maul’s presence. It is then that you notice the innocent touch of the Twi’lek man’s hand on your arm, and you feel a strange sense of dread. What were you thinking, dragging generous strangers into your life, when it is so inexplicably connected to such violence? When Maul is the way that he is?

“She is with me,” Maul says calmly.

The Twi’lek man stands, relief drenching his words. “She seemed to suffer a -”

Maul pushes past him, ignoring him, bringing you to your feet. You lean against him, body leached of all energy, unable to resist putting your weight on him. To lean and depend on him. He pulls you into an embrace and you inhale his scent, the comforting aroma settling your panic. Oh how he soothes me, you are unable to prevent yourself from thinking, even though he is the cause of my discontent.

“T-thank you,” you try to say to the stranger, to assuage his concern. “I’m ok now, this man he…he is my…my friend.”

Your voice breaks on the word. Is he even your friend? Is he still your lover? Do friends or lovers abandon you when you need them most?

“Have a good evening, miss,” says the stranger, but you notice a layer of suspicion in his voice. “Feel better soon.” It is then that you feel an odd sense of calm, and the comfort of it is like a strange omen. A silence before a storm. You try to utter something, anything to the stranger, to reassure him of your safety. But all you can manage is the name of your maybe lover-friend.

“Maul…”

Do not follow us, kind stranger, you implore him in your mind as your lips cannot form the words. Please.

But as you walk into the darkness of an alleyway, you hear the unmistakable patter of footsteps behind you. Dread coils in your abdomen.

“Maul. Maul…”

You feel him freeze against you, his body twisting toward the sound of the worried stranger.

“Don’t,” your voice pleads in a pathetic whimper.

The weight of his strong warmth against you slackens. You crumple to the ground, cover your eyes and head with your arms. You cry, all you can do is cry. You cannot fathom that this is happening, but you know Maul well enough to be fully aware that it is. There is no mercy within him. No mercy. You consider your own life, how he holds it so precariously in his gloved hands. Is this all just a game to him? How is the soul and life of a person a mere irritant to him, easily snuffed out without a drop of regret? And how is that not what frightens you most about him?

You hear a scuffling sound and a gasp of surprise. Then a slight growl, a thud, a body falling to the ground. The sound of footsteps, kindness and concern, being silenced.

No, no, no.

You know what he is capable of. What has he done? Oh, that violent language of his. How its poison spills from his lips in decadent fragments, sharp words of heartbreak driven directly into the depths of your soul. How his fury is ripped from his fists in fatal blasts of merciless terror to all in his way; all who are not you.

“What did you do?” you ask in utter disbelief as Maul drags you through a sliding door into a small, sterile looking apartment by your upper arm. You almost trip over yourself with the momentum in which he pulls you inside. “He was helping me…” “Sit down,” he instructs clearly through gritted teeth as he lets you go. You struggle to find your balance for a moment without his support, your extremities are all numb, your chest tight and your middle heavy. Your mind vibrates from the aftershock of the lights, the panic and resurgence of the feeling of the Great River’s currents. The murder of another in the space of a few days. Your trembling hand covers your mouth feebly. You ignore his instruction to sit and begin to pace around the room in silence instead, unable to stay still or form any words for a moment. Maul stands as rigid as a stone statue, his glowing eyes cold and fixed on you as you wander aimlessly around the room. He glowers at you quietly until you realise that he is waiting for you to heed to his request, to sit down, before he will allow the conversation to continue. And so you bring yourself to do so, falling into that comfortable dynamic of obeying what he says, slipping into your usual compliance. It makes you angry though, how easy it is, how good it feels to give in and submit to his every whim even though it goes against what you really want. What about your own freedom? When you are perched at the edge of the couch you look up at him with total incomprehension. The silence is heavy as you compose yourself, and when you are able to eventually find your voice, you ask him, “Maul, what did you do? Why, I -” you suddenly lose the ability to speak again as the memory of such abrupt and fatal violence ripples through you. He ignores your question. You look around yourself and ask instead, “...where are we?” “I explicitly instructed you to stay where you were. What was so difficult for you to understand about that?” he scolds.

“I did stay there, but you were gone for hours!” You watch him sigh in frustration at your response, and your eyes once again begin to prickle with the threat of tears at his hostility. But you blink them back and refuse to let them fall.

He is the one being unfair. He is the one who left you alone and vulnerable to your own devices. He is the villain who just murdered a man for no reason.

In response to your thoughts he scowls. “You, my lady, know nothing of what you are dealing with.” “What has happened to you?” the desperation in your voice shocks you. “Why are you being so aggressive with me? What has changed? What did I…what did I do?” You are unable to help the break in your voice. He ignores you and continues to seethe in silence.

“You have to do as I say, particularly when I am not with you. You should have stayed where I left you.”

"Stars above, Maul, why?”

“Why?” He repeats cruelly. “Is your naivety so blatant that you are unable to realise you could have been taken advantage of?”

“You left me alone!”

“Anything could have happened.”

“But it didn’t. ”

He exhales with impatience, his eyes glaring into you, his chest heaving up and down.

“That man you killed was helping me.”

“Helping with what? What could you possibly need aid with?”

“I saw the lights of those people and I…I was…” The feeling of tightness in your chest returns, and you cannot finish your sentence.

A derisive scoff from Maul, who still stands in front of you. “Oh, how weak you are.”

You feel hot tears streaming down your cheeks, unable to prevent them from falling any longer. “Why did you kill him?” you ask meekly.

“I kill anyone in my way.” A pause. “Anyone.”

Anyone. The word sits between you, his gaze imploring you to understand what he is saying, as though a confession is hidden beneath the word. Did he…? You stop yourself from investigating that thought any further. You are unable to cope with such a revelation. Not now, no. His eyes soften, ever so slightly. “You have to obey me.”

“You freed me just to imprison me again," you say in realisation, your voice growing louder in your anger, your sadness and grief melting into rage. "You really expect me to just stay here, stay wherever it pleases you to place me, doing nothing? Living to wait for you? Waiting for you to show up like I am - "

“This is not about you,” he also raises his voice, his patience now exhausted.

“Then what is it about? You?”

He stares daggers into you as though it is obvious, and what fury you have inside you builds and combusts. The anger of being abandoned by your Mother, neglected by your Father, tossed aside without a second thought by this glorious, insufferable man. Anger at yourself for being so enamoured of him.

“You are so arrogant and self-absorbed. Is that part of your precious lifestyle? Whatever nonsensical and ruinous path you have dragged me into? The Sith?”

He lunges forward so fast that it makes you flinch as he covers your mouth with a gloved palm. “Never say that again. Never.” He uses a tone you haven't ever heard from him before, as that booming, threatening power is awakened from deep within him. It stirs. You stare at him with wide, shocked eyes and he kneels in front of you, holding your face intimately, delicately. Even in his rage and with his threats, he is gentle. It hurts your heart. Maul quickly relinquishes you, and you whimper.

You stand up, shocked. And then you are painfully conscious of his motivations. You gasp a composing breath before levelling your gaze at him in realisation.“You are trying to frighten me, aren’t you?”

He does not respond, only raking his severe eyes across the length of your body, up and down. How are these the same eyes as the ones that witness you take him so reverently?

“It won’t work, Maul. You don’t scare me anymore.” And you mean it. You feel no fear. “I am not frightened. You won’t hurt me.”

He tilts his head slightly, as if debating whether or not to take that as a challenge. You refuse to acknowledge the whirling of disquiet in your stomach, and you push through, brave and steadfast. Having faith in your knowing of him.

“I think that you have grown to resent me,” you admit quietly. “I am a burden to you, now that we are no longer removed from the rest of the galaxy.”

“You know nothing,” he spits furiously.

“You resent me," you take a deep breath, gathering your courage to say what you have foolishly, finally understood. "You call me weak, but Maul, you resent me because it is I that makes you weak.”

He replies with utter vehemence. "How dare you imply such a thing?"

“You do resent me," you confirm. “What are you so afraid of? Where have you been?”

He pauses, and his tone entirely transforms. "Anyone who knows my path, who has bore witness to my power, I have not suffered to live. With one exception. You.”

You freeze in utter disbelief. Is he implying -

“You…” he stalks forward, like the predator he was when you first met in the woods, “...are a liability.”

You move away from the couch and backwards, putting your hands behind you, as they are beginning to shake. He follows you. You laugh slightly, a deranged chuckle tinted with disbelief. “Are you threatening to kill me?"

His face is hard, his eyes two beacons of hatred, pain and regret. Oh, Moons. Have you really been so blind?

"After everything?” Where has the benevolent stranger gone? The man with the delicate touch, the hesitant polite kindness? How is this the same lover who kissed you so softly that you thought you had fallen into a dream?

“You lied to me," you say, understanding. “You’re not mine, Maul. I am yours, I am irrevocably yours. But you're not mine. You never were, and you never, ever will be. I am not a priority to you, I will always be an afterthought and there will always be th - ”

“I never said it would be any other way. I never gave you anything and I never said I would.” He is closer to you, your back against the wall now. Cornered. His face is close to yours, his strong arms either side of you.

“Yes, well…maybe it's for the best,” you bite back, hissing each word with contempt, glaring into his eyes. “Maybe I wouldn't want it anyway, whatever you could give me. Because you are cruel, and you are broken, and all you do is spread your misery and your defectiveness. You break people and in doing so you hurt me. Again and again and again.” He does not outwardly react, though you notice the muscle in his jaw flexing in anger.

“Do you know what you have done to me?” he asks in such earnest, in a cool, disconnected tone that turns your bones to dust.

“Speak it,” you demand bitterly. “Why don’t you finally tell me the truth? Confess to me how much I have wronged you, Maul. How cruel it was of me to awaken something so wonderful in you, how utterly terrible of me it was to force you to confront that you lack the strength to handle your own dissent. That you are too feeble and damaged to embrace your own happiness.”

His eyes darken. “I do resent you. I resent your ignorance, your fragility, your beauty, your softness. I resent it all.”

“Finally,” you smile and shake your head, more tears welling in your eyes. “I knew it.”

“I resent you because you stand between me and what I am. My purpose.”

“You are so ridiculous,” you mutter in response.

“Nothing stands in my way. No one.”

“You are ridiculous,” you repeat.

“And you are an aggravating and infuriating nobody. Your company and comfort I should never have entertained. I regret it. I regret it all. I should have killed you when I first saw you. I should have let you die, I should have let you drown.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“I almost did."

Your eyes are as wide as they have ever been. He steps back, looking you up and down in disgust.

“What are you talking about?” you demand.

"When you went into the water.”

You stare at him, confusion melding your features into a pitiful expression as he chuckles cruelly.

“Oh, I hesitated, dear stupid girl. I refused to let the Jedi leave, and when I was fighting her, she begged me to save you. But all I wanted was her blood. I made a choice to kill her, and in doing so let you die. Because that is what matters. Their blood. That is all that matters, all that will ever matter: that the Jedi are destroyed.”

He doesn't tell you the rest of what happened that night, of his regret in that choice. He speaks not of the vow he made when you took that breath of life he begged for, the relief that surged through him when he felt your lonesome heart beat again. No. He only speaks of sorrow.

His harsh words dip into that deep emotional wound he inflicted upon you when you first spoke with him, the lesion of insecurity and worthlessness that lies rotting deep inside of you. The betrayal licks at the horrific emptiness beneath and gnaws at the injury.

And then he speaks again, the most devastating words, words that crush your spirit into nothing.

“You will never matter. You didn't matter then and you do not matter now."

You stand there in silence, disbelief thrumming in your veins. This whole time you believed that he saved you because he...you thought you did matter. To him. And you justified leaving and trusting him because he came to your aid, but this whole time, you really truly were an afterthought?

“Then why am I alive?” your lips move of their own volition.

He shrugs, his continued apathy more and more tormenting with every breath he takes. “By the will of the Force. I thought you dead when I pulled you from the river.”

The tension in the room peaks as you speak that obvious, fatal truth. “You still pulled me from the river, Maul.”

"Indeed." A moment of silence, and then he continues, quieter, "I should murder you where you stand. Rid myself of your foolishness once and for all."

“Then why don’t you?” you sneer in response, any sense of self preservation fizzling away with your composure, your heartbreak feels as though it is ripping you in half. "Why don't you just kill me? End your torment, Maul. End my life!"

He stews in his silence for a moment, and you flicker your eyes down to his hands, which linger on the hilt of the lightsaber at his belt. And yet…no fear strikes you. It's all you have felt for so long. The fear of the pirates that stole your Mother away in your nightmares, the fear of being caught disobeying your Father, the fear of being lost to the depths of the river. But now, there is nothing.

You do not believe he would really do it.

“I am not the foolish one here,” you say, your eyes locked on his hand, your sight fixed on how he unhooks the saber and takes it in his grip, how he slowly saunters closer to you whilst brandishing the long, cylindrical hilt of his weapon. And yet, as you speak, as you allow your truth to pour from your lips: you do not once stutter with your words.

There is no fear.

“It's you, you are foolish. I forgive you, again and again for your violence and I live with the horror of your abhorrent actions of what you have done to the Jedi, to that child, to my fa - ” You stop abruptly, unable to fully voice your suspicions, his confession: to confront him about that. Not now.

“I abandon my home, all that I know, I give you all that I am, all that I have, and then I must watch you waste it. You squander it all, sabotaging any sliver of goodness that comes your way.”

He’s as close to you now as he can be. The end of the weapon is now against your chest, his eyes boring into yours.

“You could still just have this,” you whisper, your agony rich in every word. “Have me, have us. You could give up all of the pain Maul. You are so strong,” you begin to cry again, wishing you could kiss him, comfort him, hide in his arms forever. “You have such potential: and not only in your violence.” His expression softens for the slightest moment as he registers what you say. “It doesn't have to be this way, you could just stop -”

“It is really that simple for you isn't it?” He asks, his words thick with an emotion you have never once heard before in his voice. “Just stop? Forsake my destiny, my greatness? All I have trained for, bled for, all that I am?" He shakes his head. "Only to exist in banal misery alongside someone as ignorant and worthless as you?”

You gasp in agony as his words strike you deep, and your chest hurts so much that for a moment, you are sure he has ignited the weapon and cleaved your heart in two. But when you look down, there is no crimson glow, no laser splitting you apart.

“You know nothing,” he continues. “You are hollow and stupid. I cannot stand to even look at you.” He does not, however, take his eyes away from your face.

“And yet, I love you,” you lament, your streaming gaze fixed on his beautiful, cruel face. Before you can stop yourself, the truth of your feelings for him roars from your broken heart like a waterfall, crashing into the depths of his apathy.

“You are probably already aware of it. Sometimes it's as though you know my mind better than I do, you can and do take whatever you want from my head, from me. But in my own words I want to tell you before I cannot. Before it all ends. That even if you do resent me and cannot stand to look at me any longer, even though you spew the most vile of words at me…even though you are breaking my heart, wish me dead and want nothing more than to strike me down yourself - I have never, ever loved anyone before. And I love you, Maul."

“Inconsequential," he whispers immediately, pity rippling through the word. His eyes scream in glowing amber despair, his beautiful irises speaking a thousand words he will never be able to speak. “I will always resent you.”

When you reply, your voice is quiet, broken. “But why?”

He moves quickly then, kissing you hard. You whimper into the rough movement of his familiar lips, indulging in the unique spice of his midnight scent. You grip on to him, kissing him back, tasting the sweetness of his tongue and the salty truth of your own tears. How can he utter such sharp words and still kiss you so passionately with the very same mouth? He caresses a gentle palm down the side of your face, and then he pulls back from your lips to speak quietly into your ear. He whispers your name with longing, his body shaking, and his next words are tinted with regret and dismay.

“Because no matter how much I need to or want to,” he admits with the faintest quiver wracking his gut-wrenching words. “I cannot kill you.” He growls it with an aching breath, then strides from the room without looking back.

You sink down the wall, collapsing to the floor with a sob, devastated and torn apart. All alone, in a strange room, on an even stranger world, without even the solace of the second moon for comfort. You spend the remainder of the night longing only for the winds and the rain, for the earthy smell of the Great Wood, for the calming glow of the Moons of home. What a worthless, silly little girl you are, leaving with him. The regret and self loathing feels so terrible that part of you despises Maul for his weakness; for how dare he not ignite his saber, how dare he not sever your shared torture by ending your life? The beat of your heart thumps with vivid memories of each betrayal of your short existence, and you ask aloud: how could she, how could he, how could you? But your heart keeps beating, no questions are answered, and your despair reaches long into the dawn.

–

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ivorydragoness44 · 2 years

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Darth Maul x Reader: Morning Kisses

Word Count: 341 Summary: Maul wakes up the Reader with kisses, he wants to spend time with them.

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Sleep, the body’s restart. A reboot and maintenance in its own way. A state of unconsciousness until you wake up, or until someone else decided your sleep cycle was sufficient. Stirring, your senses were more alert than the empty thoughts in your mind. Not wanting to start your day just yet, you groaned softly and buried the side of your face into the pillow. Just as your senses began to drift into a dormant state again, something soft brushed your skin. The speed at which you woke up and became aware of your surroundings was comparable to light-speed. Blinking your vision into clarity, you saw exactly who was responsible. “There’s really no need for a chrono with you around,” you yawned. “What happened to letting me sleep?” “My apologies, Starlight,” Maul said, his voice soft and low. “I am hungry and I wanted to eat with you this morning.” You hummed and rolled onto your back to get a good look at him. “Is the sun even up yet.” “Yes…the sun is rising over the horizon. It is not an artificial light shining into this room.” “Someone’s smug this morning,” you said, watching as his bright eyes searched yours. A small smirk etched the corner of his mouth. “I am quite content.” “All right,” you yawned, stretching out your limbs, “let me at least have a few more minutes in bed before you drag me out of her.” “I wasn’t going to drag you anywhere, much less out of bed.” The seriousness in his tone was brief. As you remained lying there, he too lowered himself down to enjoy a few restful moments. Being mindful of his horns, he nestled his head into the crook of your neck. A smile grew on your lips when you felt his gently trailing the length of your neck. You were thankful that moments like this were not few. Yes, there were days and instances that you and Maul needed some space and time for yourselves, but you would always need each other.

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outerrimhours · 2 years

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As The World Burns

A Darth Maul x F/AFAB!Reader Fanfiction

Chapter Two: Devil in the Woods

{Previous Chapter} / {Next Chapter} / {Fic Masterlist}

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Plagued by nightmares, you sneak away to the ruins of the old church for clarity, only to face the devil in the woods. .

RATING: Explicit. This work is strictly for those 18+ due to sexual content. MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT.

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1,095

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: Loss of parents, death, grief, fear, trauma, nightmares, night terrors, war, non canon timeline

A/N: I’m thriving off of the comments and support. Love you guys! Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up o-er wrought heart and bids it break."

“My love, go to the old church”, your father begged, dread settling in the pit of your stomach. “You’ll be safer there”.

He clutched your arm tightly, the horror of knowing he may never see his daughter again glazing over his worrisome eyes. You had never seen your father so distressed. Despite the guards running towards the commotion, blaster fire crumbling the foundation around you, you stood firm.

“I can’t leave you”, you shouted.

“I can’t lose you”, he cried.

He pulled you tightly into an embrace, sweat and tears mingling onto each other's skin as he placed his lips against your forehead.

“I love you my little warrior, but please run.”

Your father’s last words before an explosion separated you, it rented the air as if it were intent on shattering the universe, ripping apart every atom.

Silence.

Except for the piercing ringing in your ears, the edges of your eyes were blurred with dust. You crawled amongst the rubble, the fabric of your dress tearing with each graze of gravel. A shard of stained glass protruded from your arm, the trail of blood glutinous and cold. You had yet to feel its sting. Fear moved your body along, legs wobbling like a newly born deer, and with each step you cried out. Bodies were scattered beneath your feet, crushed from falling rubble, blaster rounds through their skin. The air tasted metallic. You kept moving in the opposite direction of the guards until reaching the garden doors, the further you got the quieter the world became. Sweat beaded across your skin, the electric pumping of your heart pushing blood quicker through your veins and out of your wound. You were breathless, gasping for air as you ran. The soft pillowy grass a stark contrast to the battle behind you.

You ran until it was almost silent. Until you saw the stoic architecture stretching above the hill, sheltered by ivy vines and mossy stone. A once holy and sacred place succumbing to the planet. The moment your knees hit the stream of water across the floor, you wailed. Your harrowing scream echoing into the vast emptiness.

When you reached out, your fingertips met silk sheets.

Your hair was matted against your skin, the scar against your arm throbbing as if fresh. You were soaked in sweat, heart pounding so quickly in your chest you were unable to catch enough air into your lungs.

Thalia rushed into the room, worry painted on her face, but not fear; no she was used to the night terrors.

Too many times had she been awakened by your screaming.

You couldn’t look at her, because this time you cried. Sobbed, really. You could tell she wanted to comfort you, but you felt pitiful.

“I’m fine”, you choked out. “Please, leave me be”.

“Are you sure M’lady?”

“Yes”, you gritted out.

“As you wish”, Thalia obeyed, shutting the door behind her.

You felt claustrophobic. Was your castle a home or prison, for the answer existed in your feelings. Were these bonds of love or duty? You didn’t even need guards, for you had forgotten a world beyond the walls. You rubbed the scar against your skin absentmindedly. It wasn’t the wound to your flesh that was your highest concern, yet injury to your brain, the way you saw the world and perceived others.

You wrapped your cloak around your body and stood against the french doors of your balcony.

You felt you may break every bit of furniture if you didn’t get some fresh air. Desperate to feel the grass beneath you. To step foot in that church for the first time since the battle.

Meditate.

You weren’t afraid of the dark. You navigated the path to the ruins, not by sight, but faith and memory. The mist of earlier rain kissed the bottom of your bare feet against the grass, a looming fog ghosting through the trees. There was a steady glow of moonlight, the aphotic forest released a plethora of sounds of nocturnal creatures that moved safely within the hug of the shadows.

The narrow path at your feet fades and you follow the strip of naked earth to the towering structure. You feel almost breathless at the sight of it. Stone pillars with pointed archways untouched since the last time. Your pain absorbed within the walls. Your eyes flutter closed and you reach out to touch the vines, as if they would whisper to you what you needed to hear.

“So peculiar”, it said.

No, not the vines. Someone is there.

You whip around in disorientation at the unfamiliar voice; you’re faced with the devil.

“Who are you”, you demand with a sense of authority.

The stranger squints his eyes in annoyance, as if you were the one trespassing.

“I should ask you the same.”

He stalks you with his amber eyes as you come to fully face him, and although you try to appear unfrightened, your feet take a step back.

“I’ve seen you before”, you say.

He hums in contemplation before responding, his voice rich and deep, almost sultry.

“Ah yes, the little spy. You are quite…loud”.

“You’re not welcome here”, you seethe. The frustration of the situation mingling with tired delirium made you almost brave.

Until he removed his hood. A crown of horns adorned his head, making his frightening complexion that more chilling. Yet he stayed in his position, an almost curious expression on his face.

“Says who?”

How dare a stranger in your home speak to you in such a way. You were growing impatient with the interaction.

“The princess of Utara”, you stated.

The stranger chuckled, arms extending behind his back as he approached. He appeared almost regal. Your heart raced with his closeness, your overconfident mouth surely to get you killed.

“Princess?”, he questioned, “you look rather..disheveled. Alone in the woods, barefoot, defenseless.” He said the last part almost as a taunt, a warning, yet his face looked rather amused.

The fear made your brain feel scattered and unfocused and you took another step back. The man loomed over you even from a few feet away and if it weren't for the moonlight, he would have been a shadow in the darkness. And when you felt he may strike, the stranger turned his back to you.

“Goodnight..Princess”, he spoke before disappearing into the night, so silent, as if he vanished within thin air. Your title on his tongue in almost disbelief, amusement.

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foxigemini · 7 months

Text

My Lord (Darth Maul x Female Reader Smut)

Summary: When Maul took over the throne of Mandalore, you knew your best option was to surrender after watching him kill Duchess Satine. What could you do after all? You were powerless against the powers he possessed.

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Dub-Con, Dom/sub, Unprotected Sex, Violence, Force-Choking.

Author's notes: Just pretend Mother Talzin fixed Maul up with a lower body of flesh and bone, okay?

"Do you swear allegiance to me?"

"Yes, My Lord." Prime Minister Almec got down to his knees and bowed his head.

"Yes, My Lord," you spoke, your voice barely beyond a whisper as you kneeled before the new ruler or Mandalore. You glanced up at Maul, your breath leaving your lungs at the look he gave you. His eyebrow was raised, his lips curved into a slight smile as his eyes drank in the sight of you. You quickly averted your gaze to the floor again, your cheeks burning as a familiar ache pooled in the pit of your stomach. There was something about him that you found utterly attractive. Perhaps it was his commanding charisma and authority you found appealing or simply the fact he had the power to kill you with a simple snap of his hand.

"Y/n, is it?" You jumped at the sound of your name, your heart hammering wildly as you looked up at him again.

"Y-Yes, My Lord."

"You were Duchess Satine's personal aide, were you not?"

"Yes, My Lord."

Maul smiled. "Perfect. Then, you shall be mine."

A rush of arousal surged through your sex as he spoke the word "mine." You closed your eyes, nodding at your new Lord.

"Yes, My Lord."

Maul's soft chuckle vibrated through the air, sending ripples through your body. "Excellent. Everyone, leave us. I need to speak with my aide alone."

You held your breath as everyone left, your eyes flickering, but looked firmly at the floor as Maul started stalking around you in a circle.

"Stand up."

You instantly obeyed and felt as if an invisible force ordered you—something else than the dark force. Your cheeks burned as Maul stepped closer, still circling you, slowly, like a predator stalking their prey.

"Will you obey me in all things, my dear?" Maul whispered right beside your ear, his hot breath licking the skin on your nape.

"Y-Yes, My Lord," you whispered back, gulping as you felt your entire body tremble from the closeness of his body behind you.

"All things?"

"Y-Yes, My Lord."

"Good. Good." Maul leaned down, inhaling your scent. You closed your eyes and took a quivering breath as another wave of arousal flooded through your core as the touch of his breath sent a trail of goosebumps across your skin.

"You can leave now. And send in the Prime Minister. I need to speak with him."

Flashing your eyes open, you looked at him confused, but Maul only had a smug grin on his face as he returned to sit on the throne.

"Yes, My Lord," you said and bowed before you left the great hall. Once the door closed behind you, you relaxed your shoulders and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. What was that about?

Maul continued to tease you for weeks. Little hints here and there. Words whispered into your ear how beautiful you looked in the dresses he bought for you. A slight touch of his fingers or his hand on your lower back as he walked beside you. His smirks haunting, taunting you until your body was practically begging for him to take you. Yes, he certainly seemed to enjoy this little frustrating game he played with you.

One day, Maul returned home frustrated over something. He barked at the guards more than usual and banged the door close behind him using the force.

"Y/n?! Where are you?! I need you here, now!!!"

You heard his shouting throughout the castle, his voice vibrating through the walls into your room. You hurried to the great wall with your breath in your throat, closed the door behind you before kneeling at his feet.

"My Lord."

Maul watched your kneeling form beneath him, his gaze licking the shape of your body dressed in the tight, black dress he'd bought for you. It was so easy to play you into his will, so easy to manipulate your submissive mind. Back on his home planet, the males might be the submissive ones, but here it was different. Here, he had all the control. And there was nothing he loved more.

"Undress."

A pang of heat rushed through you at his words, and you flickered your eyes as you looked up at him.

"W-What?"

An instant flash of anger burned in Maul's eyes, and he lifted his hand. Your eyes widened when you felt the invisible force around your throat, forcing you up on your feet. You were choking, struggling for breath as your frightened eyes stared at Maul. He had a wicked smirk on his face as he locked your arms behind your back with the force, leaving you completely at his mercy.

"M-My Lord...please...," you begged through his choking, but shamefully felt how wet you had become.

Maul tilted his head as he let go of your throat. Your head fell down and you gasped for air, felt his fingers on your chin, lifting your head up.

"You said you would obey me in all things, did you not?"

"Yes, My Lord," you whispered and looked up at him, met his eyes looking mockingly down at you.

"Well, I want you to undress for me."

You bit down on your lip and closed your eyes. What options did you really have? He would kill you if you didn't obey. That much you knew. And besides...wasn't this what you wanted after all? Opening your eyes, you took a deep breath as you looked up at him and nodded.

"Excellent," Maul purred and let go of your arms. You slumped down on the floor as the force left you. Rising to your feet, you started disrobing your dress, slowly pushing the straps down your shoulders and sliding the tight material down your body. Shyly, you glanced up at Maul and his expression caused another wave of arousal between your legs. His yellow eyes looked transfixed on the naked skin your hands laid bare for him. It spurred you on, his apparent attraction for you encouraging your boldness. A smile tugged on your lips as you removed your bra and let it drop to the floor. Next to disappear from your body were your panties, and then you stood naked before your Lord.

"Beautiful. Absolutely exquisite," Maul mumbled as he circled to stand behind you, his thumb and finger rolling a nipple between his fingers, pinching it lightly. You gasped as the sudden pain sent a pleasurable surge to your core and you had to press your trembling thighs together. Maul noticed it and chuckled.

"I can smell your arousal, little human," he rasped into your ear as his other hand moved down between your legs, his fingers playing with your clit. A soft moan escaped your lips and your hips bucked against his hand. Maul snickered and ran his fingers through your folds, gathering the wetness pooling there.

"So wet and needy," Maul grinned and lifted his fingers to his mouth, sticking out his tongue and flicking it across his finger, tasting your arousal. You mewled at the sight and pressed your thighs together to ease the ache now throbbing violently with need to have his cock inside you.

"Your thoughts betray you, little one," Maul mused into your ear before he walked over to the throne and sat down. "You want my cock? You'll have to earn it first."

All your previous shyness was gone. All you cared about now was how much you wanted him inside you. Smirking, you lowered yourself to your hands and knees and started crawling over to him. A smirk curled the corner of Maul's lip as he watched you crawl over to him like a cat in heat. So obedient you were, so eager to please your Master. You stopped between his parted legs and looked up at him with the submissive, innocent gaze you knew he craved.

"Go ahead, little one. Get that cock into your mouth."

Biting your lip, you opened his trousers, your mouth watering as his long, glorious cock bounced out. It looked just as you'd imagined, black with the same red markings covering his body. Darting your tongue out, you looked up into his yellow eyes as you swirled it around the tip of his cock, earning a grunt in return. You smirked and took the cock head into your mouth, sucked it between your lips, teasing him until he gave what you wanted.

Maul groaned and took the back of your head in his hand, pushing you down on his cock with one, forceful thrust. You gagged, your eyes widening as the Sith shoved his cock down your throat. Maul growled, the sound resonating throughout the room, pulsating in your clit, cunt throbbing to be filled.

"That's it, little human...take it like a good girl."

Maul took a painful grip on your hair, holding your head still as he started thrusting into your mouth. He buried his cock down your throat so deeply your vision got blurry and saliva drooled down your chin as you desperately choked for air.

Maul growled and yanked you away from his cock. You stared up at him with wide eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. Maul leaned down and crashed his mouth against yours, kissing you violently and smearing your saliva all over his lips. You mewled into the kiss, gasped as Maul suddenly lifted you up on his lap and impaled you on his cock.

"Fuck!!!" you cried out and arched your back as Maul's cock stretched you out and filled you up.

"Oh, you like that, my dear?" Maul chuckled darkly, watching your quivering body as he buried himself balls deep inside you. "I asked you a question!" he snarled, took a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back. His other hand was on your waist, forcing you in place on his cock.

"Yes!" you shrieked at the pain on your scalp, struggling to break free from his grip, his cock buried deep inside you, making you feel so full.

"Yes, what?!"

"I love it! I love your cock inside me, Master!"

"That's right. And it's the only cock you'll ever feel."

Maul let go of your hair, his hand landing on the other side of your hip as he started pounding up into your cunt. You held onto his shoulders, your entire body trashing like a ragdoll as he fucked you hard, ferociously. You lost your mind in a pleasurable haze, all your thoughts dismantling in a cloudy fog as pleasure consuming you. A few seconds later, Maul roared as he fucked you over the edge, his cum pumping into your spasming pussy.

You slumped down on Maul's still clothed chest with a satisfied smile, feeling his cock slide out of you along with his cum.

Maul watched your naked form snuggling up against his body, his hands gently stroking your hips. He kept staring at you as something filled his chest. Something soft and warm and...Maul shook his head, frowning at the sickening feelings inside him. He grabbed your arms and lifted your upper body away from his chest.

"You did good. Now, run along, little human. I have business to attend to. I'll summon you when I need you again."

A shadow of disappointment washed over you, but you quickly regained your bearings. Maul was a Sith, of course he didn't care about you. This was all about him and his needs. Quickly, you got dressed while Maul sat on the throne, looking bored and waiting for you to leave already. You bit on your lip and pushed back your tears as you walked out of the room and closed the door behind you.

Maul watched the closed door with a troublesome feeling in his gut. Then, he blinked his eyes and pushed these strange feelings away as a smirk spread across his face. He felt so much better after this little rendezvous, so much more focused and calm. Yes, he would have use of you whenever he needed to relieve some stress. His exquisite little human.

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