#ex mando/jedi maul au

[void-bitten-ghost]

Night Terrors & Comfort

Back at it again with some hurt/comfort post order 66 maulsoka. Set in the ex mando/jedi Maul AU where they all grew up together in the jedi order but Maul left to go find/help Savage.

Mild body horror/gore. Blood. Self harm. Mild language (I'm sorry my dudes the sw swears are just. They don't Hit yaknow?)

But yeah, enjoy?

-_-_-_-

Maul was screaming.

Maul was screaming and she didn't know what the fuck to do. He screamed regularly, dont get her wrong, but this time he was asleep and she didn't know what the fuck to do about it holy shit-

She should leave him to it, right? She'd barged in thinking something was wrong only to find him in the middle of the floor curled up into a tight ball, the sheets trailing from the bed and tangled in his trembling limbs. God he was trembling shit what the fuck-

She'd had her fair share of night terrors, sure. No one grows up in a war without earning their own personal traumas. Especially if you're actively fighting in it, losing friends, losing family... But this, being on the other side of it, was an experience she'd never had, being on her own all the time. And she had no idea how to react to it.

But then she saw the blood. There were worrying smears of it around him and she'd be damned if she's about to just leave him to hurt himself and bleed everywhere.

She tries yelling first, calling out to him from the doorway. Got to start somewhere. But no dice. He just starts thrashing around instead of tensing up into a ball. She approaches slowly, and as soon as she enters the room proper she can feel the disturbance in the air. It's like a storm at sea, objects getting caught in the waves and being forced into following the currents. Stepping forward was like parting that sea, carving her way through like a stone pillar beat upon by the heavy tide.

The closer she got the more chaos she felt. Turbulent, churning waters spiked with both bitter cold and frothing heat. And it was so loud. The very air screamed along with him.

She had to wake him up.

She firmly planted herself next to him, in the eye of that storm, took his shoulder, and tried to make a connection.

She fully expected the violent response before it came. She was soon fighting for her life, scrapping on the floor with this killer, her partner, trying to squeeze the life out of her. Hands scrabbling and auras lashing out, trying for purchase. His eyes were dim but open, looking, staring directly at her, but still not seeing. Still hazy and half asleep, but bloodshot and focused in a way that bespoke fear, still stuck in that nightmare behind his eyes.

He looked fucking terrified.

She managed to pin him, just, and get him in a locked position where she could talk without fear of her eyes getting gouged.

She told him who she was, who he was, where they were, and what their mission was. That he's safe, no one else is here it's just us it's just her he just needs to wake up come on you half assed bastard if you're planning to end me at least do it honourably in a duel-

He did get a headbutt in here and there, and with those horns that is no idle threat. It was actually a very real and concerning issue that she will have to address when she's not got her arms full with violently thrashing, panicked, post-night-terror zabrak.

He calms eventually, leaving deep scores from his nails on her arms and gashes from his horns on her montrals, but he does calm down. The panic leaves him slowly at first as he comes to, but then it all just disappears in a rush. Everything in the air drops like puppets with cut strings, and he does the same. He slumps against her, a shaking pile of meat, bones, and metal in her arms on the floor. All is deathly quiet then, nothing but thier heavy breathing in the still silence of the room.

And then the first sob came.

She... doesn't know how to deal with this situation either. She's not sure if she's ever comforted someone like this before. Or really comforted anyone at all. But when she loosens her hold slightly his head drops even further, as if hiding, folding himself into her middle in a way that had her hands moving of their own accord, as if instinctual. One was on his back, running over his shoulders in what she figured was a comforting motion. And the other just lay gently on his head.

She could feel the indentations there. Some were shallow crescent moons, but others were deep, dragging cuts over his skull. That must be where the blood came from, and sure enough, her fingers come away dark and wet.

They stay like that for a good long while. Long enough for exhaustion to take them both. She ends up passed out leaning against the bed, with him equally so, curled up into a ball with his head cushioned on her thighs.

To date, this tops the list of weird things to ever happen. And she just let's it be.

-_-_-

She wakes to him telling her of his brother in a much more steady and put together voice. It was little things. Insignificant things. How the man fought, his determination to find Maul, to help him, to stay by his side. Even his favourite food of all things. It was a long string of grief stained memories, and she could understand that.

Grief was something Ahsoka knew very intimately. As did they all. No one in this universe was untouched by it.

But they had... similar experiences, she supposed. Somewhat. She'd lost a brother too. Maybe not to death, but to the same snake of a man. And in every way that mattered.

If she'd listened to him. If she'd been there. If she hadn't left at all to begin with, but then would she have really even been able to do anything to stop it? Would Anakin have even listened to her? Obi Wan had been there, and it changed nothing. Could she take still being there, living, witnessing everything, and still not being able to stop him from killing everyone? They were all dead and she was alive how could she survive and not them how could he-

If she shed a tear in that room, collapsed on the floor and sharing what could amount to be borderline pillow talk with an old ally turned loathed enemy turned ally once again. Well. No one would ever know but him and her.

They both stay there, stock still, as if any movement at all would make this moment very real all of a sudden. Both believing that one wrong shift, one harsh exhale, would break the calm they'd found in this storm. And then they'd be right back where they were before, right at eachother's throats. Again.

After, when they eventually pull themselves together enough to leave, to part ways once again, they both silently agree on one thing. This never happened.

[sunsetofdoom]

APPARENTLY there’s some kind of WIP meme going around the Star Wars fandom tonight? i got tagged by @the-last-hair-bender but fuck if I know how it works. I think you just list fan things you’re working on writing/drawing right now. I’m working on so many things guys. so many.

1: like three pieces in the Mobitine verse. this has taken new precedence because it looks like I might actually like. FINISH and PUBLISH one??? what the fuck. now all of you can enjoy the D/s threesome goodness, not just my friends that I invite to my documents folder.

 1a- The World Has No Place In Our Bed, this being the first installment and the first one I published. i like to think of it as Sith Apprentice, But Taken Seriously; Obi-wan and Maul meet in a crowded club a few years before Phantom Menace, have relations in a shitty motel room, and continue to see each other on the regular. but what’s going to happen when they realize their strange, half-anonymous lover turns out to be a member of their opposing Order??

1b- The World Has No Right To My Heart, a co-writing project with @lasatfat, in which Maul and Obi-wan separated on Naboo before the climactic battle, and then Obi-wan left the Jedi and ran off with him years later. Through a mess of circumstances, they end up seeking refuge on Mandalore, thereby meeting a certain ex of Obi-wan’s- and once he’s back in Satine’s orbit, he doesn’t want to go again. Will he choose his fierce former Sith or his stubborn Mando?? spoiler alert: he chooses both. it’s a threesome. the pairing is listed right up there, folks.

1c- It’s Good To Be Queen (Well, Duchess), in which Satine keeps her beloved pets leashed and kneeling at each side of her throne. it’s 20 pages of porn and i need to write like.. the last three pages. fluffy affectionate filthy D/s/s porn. you know you want it.

2: a continuation of @the-last-hair-bender‘s lovely ObiSavage Marriage AU. Savage’s ship hasn’t arrived yet so it’s a nice six pages of The Jedi Flip Their Shit, but eventually I’ll get to Savage showing up and impressing everyone with how sweet and well-meaning he is when he doesn’t have an axe.

3: the next chapter of I’m Tired, Aren’t You Tired? in honor of Maul’s passing. We could’ve had it all, Lucasfilm!

4: a guilty pleasure fic about General Lin of The Great Wall being gifted with a Welsh concubine and learning to speak Welsh while teaching her Chinese. Also they kiss. She definitely isn’t a self-insert or anything *sweats*

5: Grukkah/Pash fic, aka the lizard thirst fic. OC/OC femmelsash D/s star wars bullshit with @srahwars‘ Grukkah, because I am... really Into this lizard.

anyways. i need to use the sleep soon but please!! tell me!! which ones you want to see! and i’ll let that influence which one i procrastinate the least tomorrow afternoon and all the days after. i love you guys.

tagging @the-son-of-dathomir and @soul-candle

[void-bitten-ghost]

There Are So Many Timelines...

And in this one she gives him one of her sabres.

(Tiny fic. Maulsoka if you squint. Based on my Ex Mando/Jedi Maul AU where they're all the same age and grow up together in the order. Set during Order 66. You know the scene.)

He can't be a distraction if he's dead, she reasons. So with gritted teeth and a sharp breath she thrusts her hand out to him, palm down, offering her shoto.

"I want this back," she growls, glaring daggers at him, and after a split second of hesitation, he reaches to take it. She drops the sabre into his waiting hand with a dull thud, not allowing any contact. He curls his fingers around it slowly, ignites it, and in the dim hallway the blue light casts dark shadows on both of them, deepening their grim, hard expressions. This is not the ideal situation either of them wanted to be in. He'd rather they work together, just as they used to, fighting their way out as unmatched equals. And she'd prefer to stay alone, dealing with her own mission he was not yet privy to. This is a compromise.

"Of course, Lady Tano," he drawls with an edge of sincerity she was not expecting. "If you survive."

-_-_-

Oh, she survives alright.

She tears her way through the ship with the honed skill and unwavering determination of a soldier raised in war. It's touch and go, but she does save her friend, the brainwashed soldier, and they both make it to the hanger in time to be met with an entire platoon of her own men.

They're not her men anymore, she has to remind herself. Her men would not turn their guns on her with nothing but a full body sneer. Her men would not turn against one of their own brothers simply because a new protocol now demanded it.

These are not her men, but they still had their faces, still wore her colours over them. The crude painted markings a show of fealty, of solidarity. Loyalty meant everything to the clones.

Look where it got them.

-_-_-_-

Where she tears through the ship with strategy and finesse, covering her tracks like a woman on the hunt, he literally tears through the ship. Dead bodies with varying numbers of limbs litter every hallway he passes. The comlink he'd commandeered pinging to life every now and then, updating him on their movements. Of her movements.

He does exactly what she told him to. He causes chaos. And what better way to do that than to kill every clone he comes across, and then bring down the entire ship with his own bare hands, condemning them all?

They're torn from hyper space, shuddering into existence and tumbling down down into an unknown planet's surface.

Now to escape.

-_-_-_-_-

She comes at him in all that chaos, teeth bared and blade raised to take his head off. He thinks she almost does, taking that last step to lunge at him, to actually try and kill him, but she instead turns to protect her friend.

Mistake.

He's in the shuttle, taking off, and he feels her force grip wrap around the ship, trying to yank him back down to the shuttle bay. He fights it, tooth and nail he fights it, but eventually, instead of feeling the euphoria of a hard won victory, she willingly let's go. Denying him that victory.

He's out of the hanger and into the planet's atmosphere without a second thought. But then, as he's powering up the hyper drive, that thought materialises out of nowhere in the shape of a shoto hilt detaching from his hip and hitting his foot with a sharp clang.

The noise stops his frantic movements. Brings back memories he'd left dead in the dirt of Coruscant. Memories like early morning caf shared over a gruelling debriefing. Waking to Tano and Skywalker letting themselves into his quarters, hiding from Kenobi in the one place he didn't dare look. The broken look the day he left the order.

He thinks about looking back. Thinks about turning the ship around.

He growls, snatches up the shoto, and turns the damn ship around.

[void-bitten-ghost]

Spidersilk

Or, alternatively: Oh No, They're Back At It Again With That One AU That's Consumed Them

Another post order 66 fic, set before the Night Terrors one. This is when they first work together again, years down the line from the jedi purge. Maul has his syndicate and Ahsoka is working as Fulcrum with the rebels, but they'd sometimes do things to help each other's group just because it fucks with the Empire. Here, they come to an understanding while begrudgingly working together on one of those missions.

Again, set in the ex mando/jedi Maul AU where they grew up together in the jedi order (plus other weird timeline divergent stuff). I don't think there's any trigger warnings but just in case there are mentions of being wounded.

But yeah, enjoy?

-_-_-

The first time she even acknowledged the bond they'd somehow built up again, they'd both been gravely wounded.

It was a smash and grab mission, too important to send anyone else. And apparently his organisation felt the same way. They somehow met on the bridge, carnage left in the wake of both of them coming from either side of the ship.

They were being caged in.

It was almost the end of them both, that day. But he'd gotten her out of that ceaseless line of fire, calling her to the air ducts. And so, she repaid the favour by getting him out of the still falling rubble of the ship. The ship he'd crashed, by the way. The irony was not lost on her.

But somehow, together, they'd survived.

Tending to his wounds hadn't been easy. He didn't make it easy. But she patiently insisted. He'd taken a deadly blow meant for her, after all. Plus, there was some maintenance needed on his prosthetics if they were to make it out of there and back to point B in time. Something was off with the stabilizers, it seemed, but that was something he insisted he could sort on his own.

She'd come to terms with the fact that they'd have a better chance of survival if they continued working together. And survival... she had people counting on her to get this intel back.

Eventually, under the logic of 'the quicker this gets done the quicker they can move on', he acquiesced to her assistance.

Didn't mean he was happy about it. And the feeling was mutual.

"If you'd just stop moving away from me, I could get this done quicker." She says, wrapping a wound on his shoulder, placing a bacta patch here and there on the problem areas. "Seriously, a youngling squirms less than you do."

Surprizingly, she only gets a deeper scowl aimed at the floor for the trouble. No sharp quip, no barbed words. Just the deepening of that ever present frown and him falling still once again.

She ignores it, that unnerving silence, moving lower to his ribs and attempting to disinfect the wound there.

He turns away, growls, but she ignores that, too. It'll take more than a pitiful noise like that to scare her off now. He'd had the chance to kill her more than once in the past few years of this strange arrangement, she doubts he'd try his luck now of all times. And over a bit of disinfectant at that? Ha. Please.

He's all bandaged up and recalibrated in no time, and he starts working on wrapping her back lacerations when it proves to be a monumentally awkward task for her to do on her own. She concedes begrudgingly, just as he had done to her.

It seemed appropriate in the dark to say nothing, to simply allow all this to happen. It was a separate space, a pocket of calm in the storm of their lives. And that was somehow soothing. If she closed her eyes for a bit, just a little bit, she could almost imagine them back in the temple training grounds, patching eachother up after a particularly gruelling bout of drills. Could almost feel the sand under her boots, smell the sun baked earth, hear the yells and clacks of younglings training just down the way...

She comes to when the smoke from the crash blows their way, breaking the idle dream into a thousand smouldering pieces. That was another time. Another life entirely. But here they are, together again in the chaos of a stark, new reality.

She breathes hard through her nose, tasting ash and oil on her tongue. Pinching her own thighs, she finally says the words that had been playing on her mind since the crash. Since he, against all preconceptions, saved her life by endangering his own.

"Thank you," she murmurs into the quiet. "For saving my life back there."

His hands still momentarily. Almost for a full breath before continuing, and she supposes that's the end of it, thinks nothing more of it and then-

"You're welcome." The words are so quiet, a barely there murmur just like her own had been. But then, even quieter, thrown into the emptiness of the room like a stone in a glass house...

"And thank you."

The bond between them, that spidersilk thread, once severed, grew thicker that day. And that, in turn, lead to them allowing their auras to push and ebb against eachother once again, just a little bit. Just a touch. A toe in the water.

That was when it started, she thinks. That day in the rubble, where they saved each others skin and thanked eachother for it.

[void-bitten-ghost]

I'm thinking about that AU again

Maybe Maul left the jedi order because of Savage, who at the time was a 'sith' and still working for Dooku.

Palpatine needed to tactfully get rid of Maul when he proved impossible to pit against Anakin in a rivalry that didn't fizzle out days later. The last thing he needs is for Maul to suddenly click and be like "That's him. That's the man that took me from my mother's arms and then abandoned me as an infant" because my dudes that is what you could call Bad Publicity and it would be a big f off headache to deal with

And so, being the conniving bastard he is, he makes sure Maul finds out he has siblings that are still alive. You think our boi in this universe wouldn't jump at the chance to have real blood ties?? A family he's born to?? Pshh it's his adolescent years all over again. He thought he'd worked through all this on that road trip they all had, but apparently not.

So he leaves. He leaves his home to find his 'true family'

And he said those words. Those exact words when Anakin and Ahsoka tried to convince him to stay

That's gotta fucking sting, right

And then they hear about Maul being involved in Seperatist/Sith activity?? Which ultimately ends in them having to fight Maul at some point But He's Just Protecting The Only Family He Has Left

"What about us!? What about Plo? Were we nothing to you?"

But that doesn't matter. None of it matters, because he's seen as One of Them now, and it hurts