#maul x sith reader

[zoeykallus]

Hello! Hope you have been doing well. If it’s okay, would you do a Maul request? Him finding you absolutely useless and feeling a strong need to protect you? Thanks so much! Hope the sun is a bit warmer wherever you are !

💖

Aloha!

I do like me some Maul occasionally, so yes, I will 😁

Okay, no idea if I really understand that. I don't know if I interpreted that correctly, but let's take a look... 🤔 😬

Maul x Fem!Reader - Damsel In Distress

Warnings: Angst/Hurt/Injuries/Comfort (more or less)/Stockholm Syndrome Like Circumstances/Dominant Maul/Sub Reader/Slightly Suggestive/16+

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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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The way he looks at you, that angry stare. His gaze is fire that burns into your body, and you want to squirm, but you hold still, not wanting to seem even smaller than you already feel. "You just let them take it?!" he growls angrily. You blink, trying not to shake, not to cry. "There were three of them," you say meekly, "I don't possess your abilities." He growls again, saying through clenched teeth, "How can a single person contain so much uselessness?!" You still have your face turned away, all the time he sees only your left profile. You know how important the holocron is to him, you feel ashamed, but at the same time you feel unfairly treated. What could you do against three armed men who outnumber you? You can still be glad that they did not have other dubious interests. Although you don't dare, you suddenly say it out loud. Maul takes a deep breath, wants to scold again, but then he stops. "Look at me when I'm talking to you," he murmurs.

His gaze is so unrelenting that sometimes you hardly dare to move when he looks at you like that, but now you turn your head and look at him carefully, and Maul finally sees your whole face. The shiner on your right eye, the blood in the right corner of your mouth, the bruise on your cheek and the marks on your right arm where one of the men grabbed pretty hard. For a second, his features slip. He's hard on you, mean sometimes, often condescending, but he would never physically hurt you. That another dared to do so stokes an angry fire in his chest that startles even him for a brief moment. Maul steps toward you, very close, his leather-gloved hand grasping your chin surprisingly gently. He turns your head to look more closely at your wounds "I'm going to find these men. You stay here until I return," he growls.

When Maul returns, you know he has killed tonight, you see it in his stride, in his gaze. He moves at a leisurely pace, like a confident hunter, a predator who has just finished off his prey and is basking in his success. He holds the holocron in his hand, a small, barely noticeable smile at the corner of his mouth. You know his body language by now, know when anger is bubbling under the surface, when triumph, when desire. He looks at you, sitting there on the sofa, trying to tend to your wounds. Maul rolls his eyes, puts down the holocron and sits next to you, taking the utensils from your hand. When you feel a burning sensation and want to flinch away, he grabs hold of your chin. "Don't be so snivelling," he murmurs softly, his deep voice much gentler than earlier in the day. Even though his words were rough, his touch is suddenly much kinder. As he tends to your wounds, you ask softly, "Did you kill the men?" The corner of his mouth twitches. A smile, perhaps? "What do you think?" You blink and say carefully, "Quite a lot of anger over a simple theft."

He puts aside the gauze with which he has dabbed your bruises with baccta and turns your head all the way around to face him. "No one but me, in whatever way that may be, lays a hand on you," he says in a harsh whisper that gets under your skin. You blink, your eyes searching his gaze for a moment, but you can barely withstand the intensity in it, at the same time it draws you in magically. "You need my protection, don't you?" Quietly, you say, "I'm lost without you." He nods, as if it goes without saying. "I know. I shouldn't have left you alone with the holocron. I knew they would come to find it." Your pulse races, your heart beats a fast, furious rhythm. You realize that Maul knows this. He looks at the bruise between your neck and shoulder, pushing the fabric of your shirt aside with one finger. The touch gives you goose bumps. He repeats the touch with a knowing smile. He feels the shiver that goes through your body, he knows how he affects you, what his closeness triggers in you. His hand grips your chin a little tighter, he leans even closer to you. His teeth gently but firmly snap at your earlobe, eliciting a small gasp from you. Maul's mouth moves higher to your auricle and his deep voice whispers, "Maybe I'll lay a hand on you tonight".

You feel his breath close to your skin with every word, your sensitive ear, your whole body is covered with goose bumps. You hold completely still for a moment, but your hand has automatically placed itself on his arm. You can literally feel the power vibrating beneath his surface. Your voice is barely more than a whisper as you devotedly say, "Yes, master".

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#star wars #maul #darth maul #maul opress #maul x reader #darth maul x reader #sith #sith lord #sith x reader #lord maul x reader #suggestive #suggestive maul #star wars x reader #maul fanfiction #ask #request

[thenightmarketofdathomir]

Dead & Dreaming

Pairing: Darth Maul x Reader (AFAB, no pronouns)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: An archaeological investigation of post-war Dathomir reveals that the spirit of the world is very much alive, and it wants you to know it personally: He has a name he does not remember. He has a desire for something particular. But the only way he speaks to you is when you’re most susceptible to his dark influence… in your dreams; in your nightmares. 

Word Count: 2,863 words

Notes: Ghost!Maul meets Incubus!Maul yes I had to. 

Warnings: CNC (sleep paralysis fucky time but Reader consents before going under), night terrors, weird Dathomiri kinky supernatural shit, some primal references, choking/throat grabbing, biting, liberal use of both “c” words

Read it on Ao3 > or below.

Twin moons have barely risen as you drink your tea, your sheets pooled in your lap, damp clinging to the mattress leaving everything cool beneath your skin. This is Dathomir, where the secrets belong to the dead, and they are so eager to share with the one living soul who will listen.

What do the dead want?

This is the question you’ve asked yourself since coming here. You think you have a few answers…  to be known, to relive what they lost, to take revenge on those who wronged them, perhaps.

Others only want to be remembered. Memory confers a certain type of immortality, after all, but that is a lesson hard-earned when the distance between you and them is a gulf.

You’ve given them your ear, among other things. Your work has become transcription: spells, incantations, histories of the people, translated hieroglyphs,  and little anecdotes of those who grew up with a bit of the ichor in them — from the soil, from the plants, from the rain. Restless spirits, and those who came back because Dathomir was always a part of them.

You think that maybe it has something to do with the Force in this place.

That is the working hypothesis. This is how you’re testing it:

They come to you in dreams. So you’ve been doing a lot of… sleeping.

Mostly. 

But some things… some things you’re not recording in your holovids. 

The spirits sit so near on this planet that the nightly visitations leave you going to bed earlier each evening just to see if maybe, this will be the night he returns.

He’s not like the other warrior spirits, though he wears the Nightbrother markings, and he moved with the ease of a shadow to pool at your feet atop the covers when you were deep in slumber. How something of such little substance could spill like smoke across your body and ease a sigh from you by barely touching made little sense at first, but you remember that those introductions were just a tease.

He wanted you to see him —

Whole and fearsome and watching for minutes before all that darkness fell away from a face carved from your second most insistent nightmare.

You don’t remember his features, though they were chiselled and handsome. You don’t remember how many horns crowned his head, though they were sharp enough to leave scars the next morning.

A phantasm.

A dream so real you believe there might be some magic in it —

He never offered his name. Maybe he doesn’t remember.

But you remember the bright eyes of the dead.

— What it felt like to burn beneath his stare as shadow became substance and he pinned your wrists, the raze of his teeth as you tried to scream, and his laughter —

Silk and shivering and satisfied that you could feel everything. Muscles moving. The heavy drape of his torso above yours. Claws pressing into flesh to edge your pleasure with the bite of pain.

Your nipples pebble at the memory, wanting to recall the feeling of his teeth clamped around them, but those details are misty.

You screw your eyes shut, frustrated. 

You want to remember his cock.

Something trills in the night beyond your window. A ghast or a ghoul or one of those bird-like creatures that roosts in the cliffs. 

Yes, Dathomir is haunted.

That’s what the archaeological datalog said, but you expected —

Well, maybe coming here for the first time back too many rotations to count, you expected something different: Monsters. Maybe Nightsister remnants. A record that stretches into the near-history before the war, something you could study and report.

That wasn’t how it went, not after you lost your tent to a wayward rancor and took shelter in the caves where it was safer from the elements but not the nexus’ influence: down in earth where the ichor is the strongest, and those who lived here used the waters to boil their roots and herbs and —

You just had to try the tea yourself once you found the recipe.

A little sip to welcome vivid dreams, but hardly enough to induce visions. 

That’s right.

That’s all this is:

Scientific experiment.

Because research.

You look down at yourself, touched by the blush of the fading day, ready to surrender to one dream or another, to see where they lead because hope is a strange catalyst, even if the circumstances are just figments because you can’t stop remembering in bits and pieces, lucid and fraught with the memory of calloused palms pulling down the sheets. 

That’s why your breath catches, and your palms leave damp marks on the bed. That’s why you’ve chosen to wear as little as possible — 

A thin shift, no panties, bared from mid-thigh reveal plenty to the shadows. In the mid-dark, alone in your cave hut, you’re already a little wet. 

You gulp back the last of the brew, setting down the cup with the dregs, and ease into a more comfortable position when the memories threaten. Those aren’t true — they are just after-images of a sensation that you’ve dissected and analyzed, the pressure and the heft of a man’s body not unlike a night terror from the data records, but while you remember the inability to move beneath him, you also remember… pleasure.

You shut your eyes, and when the weigh of your body shifts into nothing, you imagine a stirring somewhere in the place between where the living and the world between hold conference: the dead making promises they can’t keep when their demesne can only ever be observation.

“Let’s bend the rules, my dear,” you hear him whisper, but the shiver that chases in a trickle from your ear to your collar like the cold glide of a finely-edged blade is only the breath of the wind through a split in the ceiling. 

There’s no one there when you slit your gaze across your room, checking one more time in case he’s come.

You’re alone.

There’s no one and nothing save for a flicker of disappointment.

Sleep takes you swift and sure, pulling you down into the meandering gloom of unconscious with little effort. There is only the tunnel of your vision and mussy dark, and then nothing but grey shadow. 

Your sleep is not dreamless.

You are running through a forest — a gnarled tangle of overgrowth that catches and snags at your ankles, gravethorn branches tearing at your dress with insistent fingers and raking over your skin to nick and sliver and raise your blood.

This is a hunt.

And somewhere in the distance, you think you can hear over the snap of breaking branches that crack like little bones beneath your bare feet, you imagine the firelight gaze of a predator whose attention narrows to your body as you crash along.

So clumsy. 

So desperately wanting to be caught.

To be put to the loamy floor face first, knees scraped raw, stuffed solidly with the thick weight of a cock stretching you open to your limits as he ruts. No quarter. No mercy. And you, held in place by the hand on the back of your neck, just a body, spasming helplessly around the ripple of ridges that light the dark behind your eyes with each slap of his hips. 

That’s not how it happens.

Because what you dream is not what you get:

He’s far too big, a forearm bracing your wrists over your head one-handed, the body across yours so heavy that you can’t even squirm. But you feel him:

Every hot breath against the side of your face. Every dip and plane of his stomach muscles, pressing you deeper into the mattress with each exhalation. A rumble of appreciation when you try to shift, but find yourself trapped beneath a hard chest, your thighs opened around too-wide hips, the brush of flesh against your slicked cunt leaving you clenching, involuntary desperate, as your moan. 

This close, you can taste his skin:

Hot and as hard as the rest of him, the tendons along his neck stark from straining.

Is he holding himself back from just taking what he wants?

Is this restraint?

“At last,” he says, and you feel the weight of sinking relief stiffen against your clit. He doesn’t move, but his cock grows as it stiffens, pushing hard against your centre with the sort of insistence that wakes your body beneath his. 

Like heated metal. 

Hard flesh dripping.

So intimate, to be held like a lover, to be spread so easily in sleep that you can’t resist a roll of your hips or how the feeling of him against you makes your sex throb from pressure absent stimulation.

His purr of contentment to find you writhing is all the assurance you need. 

“We meet again, my sweet, sleeping plaything.”

You scent fire and woodrot against your tongue, cut with the bitter dark of his musk. 

He nuzzles your pulsepoint, and you see a glimpse of a diamond marking on his nose. A little detail that isn’t at all endearing. The rest of his facial marks paint a skull from his eyes and mouth.

You shudder, a trickle of fear mingling with desire.

A murmur, “Did you miss me? Or were you yearning for something specific, in all your somnolent wandering? I felt your stirring — your searching. Your need. An interstice aspect of the Dathomir’s affinities, the Dark of this nexus welcomes malleable boundaries — the living, the dead, and those in-between. All of us bound together by tethers wrought through the ichor. Thank you for indulging me by drinking the waters. It makes these meetings so much easier for me.” 

You can’t speak. You don’t have the ability. 

“Ah, yes. The perils of dreaming: you find yourself at the mercy of one who does not possess the ability to grant it. Pity. Though I do appreciate your company — your welcome heat. I have been alone for so many years, and with no one to appreciate the body returned to me in so few pieces. I do love how responsive you are to my —” His cock brushes your slit, slicking through your folds with a deft roll of his hips that leaves you open-mouthed and gaping. “Ministrations.”

His lips brush your temple, and he pulls in a breath that terminates in a shudder so profound that you crumple beneath him. 

“And I do enjoy the feeling when you strain against me. How you buckle so easily when I hurt you a little bit. I won’t stretch you open, but I can make it fit.”

He tastes you. A long lick from your jaw to your temple, and as you shudder away from the feeling of how much you want that mouth doing the very same thing to your weeping, empty cunt, he smiles at you —

A mouth full of sharp teeth. 

And you catch a glimpse of triumph in that burning gaze.

He likes it when you squirm. 

“You can try to scream, if you prefer.”

You try to open your legs further, trying to take the rub of his length as the first flicker of his weight starts to cut off your circulation. Unmoving, he makes it hard to breathe, and with your hands starting tingle from the pressure of his forearm across your wrists, discomfort becomes a steady, warning peal.

His lips brush across yours, mocking. “If you can manage it.”

You want to remember this.

You want to remember every inch of him pressing into your hole, stretching you out so you can feel the burn and sting of taking someone so much bigger than your own species without breaking. You want to show him how hard you can squeeze when he hilts himself deep —

As if he’s not the only one who can break things.

You can’t explain these things. You don’t have the ability to express your desperation by begging, so you do the one thing you can —

You catch his lips in a kiss, and you bite him.

Hard.

Hard enough that you can feel the pop of skin.

His snarl like music when he responds by snapping you down by the throat and sinking into your cunt in one deft, sure stroke that whites out the dark with brilliant light for all of one moment, and he groans like it’s the one comfort he’s forgotten.

He stutters a moan, and mouth open, you’d join him, but you —

Pant in your desperation, clawing at his wrist as he withdraws, and your pussy makes a sucking noise of protestation.

“Now now,” he grits out, licking his lip. “One must savour every moment when time is finite. Enjoy it, my dear — every last bit of it. I want you to remember come morning — remember me, remember this moment, remember this feeling, because none living will ever offer the same.”

It’s easier when he puts it back in, like you’re better fitted to the notch and heft of his girth, the press of his balls tight against your ass.

“Ah, yes. Let me feel you clench.”

Rooted again, he grinds his hips, stretching you in all directions to better take him. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s too dark to watch the ripple of his ridges when he pulls out, glistening with your slick, and buts the tip against your clit — rubbing it in little circles to make you squeeze on nothing.

He sinks back in, palm to your chest to hold you in place as he starts to move.

“That’s it,” he soothes. “That’s good.”

Fuck me, you mouth, but his rumble of laughter drowns out the movements of your gaping, open mouth as he fucks you with slow, long strokes stopping just shy of where you need him.

You mouth words. 

You make promises without sound.

But his indifference to what you want is part of his entertainment.

“Open,” he commands, but he pushes past your teeth before you can take a breath. 

Fingers trap your tongue — his hands taste like salt, and the press of his claws against the back of your mouth are nearly enough to make you gag, but you obey when he tells you to, “Suck,” while he fills you up. Moving them slowly in and out like he’s considering fucking your mouth but he wants to be certain of the performance. 

Over and over until you’re pliant and splayed, lips wrapped around calloused fingers and your hips are dragged up his lap. Spit down your chin. Your nightgown split open down the centre from sharp claws. Breathing hard, and wanting anything he might offer if it could satisfy him.

It doesn’t.

He scoffs. “Maybe next time.” 

Wet smears mark your thighs. He daubs your clit with your own spit. Rubs it slow and sure, your nightgown pushed up so he can watch the contractions of your stomach as his touch brings you closer to finishing.

But you don’t want it to end.

You don’t want him to ever stop.

“There are other more pressing matters at hand.”

You lift your arm, reaching for that stern, scowling face — to let him know with a gesture that he’s not so alone. That you are here.

With a jerk of his chin, he pulls away. 

He watches you, hunger and determination mingled with an unhappy twist of his mouth. Maybe he knows that this won’t last. Maybe he knows that when morning comes, once again, all you’ll have are echoes of the experience — sweat on your sheets and an impossible account of a dream that might’ve been real in another life, at another time.

“This is Dathomir, my dear,” he tells you in a lower register. “Do not despair. If you do not remember me come morning, I will only remind you again the next evening. Over and over in the depths of unconsciousness when the veils between us are thinned.” 

He presses a thumb to your clit, unmoving. Just holding it there so that the overwhelm of his thrusts and the intensity of his stare is enough to sear a mark into your skin —

Something to remember him by.

“I will not be forgotten,” he says. 

What’s your name, you would ask him, if speaking was still your friend, and your body wasn’t shuddering at the slap of his hips, pushing you over into depths where the dark is darkest and the stars wink out overhead.

Then there’s just oblivion, and the burn of your pleasure when the torrent breaks, leaving you to unconsciousness and the trailing drift of a ghostly lover who seems to have lost everything. Even you to the morning, where nothing is certain about the encounter, save the weakness in your body and the feeling that something is missing.

Some part of a dream left to a spilled cup, overturned on the bedside table and the twist of sweat-soaked sheets.

A little dapple of blood on the pillow, but you’re uninjured.

Body aching.

Satiated.

The bed around you is cold in the pre-dawn gloom, and only wisps of your unconscious wanderings linger, drifting farther away the longer you try to hold onto them:

Dream or nightmare, you don’t remember.

But tonight you can try again.

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[yandere-wishes]

IDK what's wrong with me!! But for the love of God, I can't get Darth Nihilus out of my head!! Like how has no one written anything for him yet?!?! He's like the perfect yandere!! A creature whose bearly human anymore, a eldritch abomination whoes voice can destroy entire planets!! You can never escape him, nor kill him cause he's practically the dark side of the force itself!! Bonus points I headcanon that he also has claws!! Someone please send in something for this guy, I need you all KNOW how obsessed I am w/ him!!

😭💓😭💓

#darth nihilus #yandere #yandere x reader #yancore #yandere x you #yandere aesthetic #star wars #knights of the old republic #star wars knights of the old republic #sith lords #darth nihilus x reader #yandere darth nihilus #darth maul #anakin skywalker

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

roundtable writing : open group : reblog with your addition in a below the cut : go off : add characters and ocs : blow up canon : 🔥🔥🔥 : flash fiction

ch 1 (written by dathomirdumpsterfire)

You own a diner in the lower levels of coruscant, one that never closes. It's a few hundred stories below the surface, just far enough down to be a little rough and tumble. Your little business is hard work, but good work. Steady.

One night like any other a young zabrak walks in, looking around the seating space with glittering gold eyes beneath a heavy hood.

You seat him and ask if he'd like anything to drink besides water. The answer is no.

You leave him with a menu and go to snag that yourself. It's three in the morning, so there's only you, your chef-droid, and this guy. You come back with that water, and ask him what he'd like to eat.

He prevaricates, stoic, and you get the hint he's a bit unsure of himself. That's not uncommon, with a mixed species menu as eclectic as yours. You know what zabraks like to eat though, so you offer a few choice options.

He picks the second one. It's a simple dish, and you ask your droid to cook it up while you idle around doing clean up and organization tasks.

When you deliver his food the zabrak politely thanks you. He eats everything on the plate without taking off his hood, pays, tips well, and disappears. You don't make much note of the visit, anymore than you'd make note of another.

The guy comes back though, three nights later, and asks for another recommendation.

Again you give him some suggestions. He picks one, eats it and disappears.

When he wanders in at late night a third time, you start to take notice. Regulars are what keep you afloat after all. This trend continues too, until one day you realize you only have a single recommendation off the menu for him left. He's tried everything else his species might like, though he's never expressed his opinion on the result.

Well. He clearly liked to try new things, so you do some research that very day, and have three more options ready for his next visit. You don't even bring the menu this time.

This trend continues, week after week, month after month. Every few days the red and black stranger comes in, picks a dish, pays generously, and leaves. You don't know his name, though he's always formal and polite, just not one for conversation.

That is, until one day he comes in smelling of blood and shivering, his steps slow and unsteady...

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ch 2 (written by @krazykupidspoems)

The blood staining his careful steps is the second thing you notice. You yell for the chef droid to bring the med-pak. It's meager but you will do what you can to help. Some bacta bandages, wrap bandages, a needle, and thread for temp stitching (never been used thank the Gods).

You rush to the Zabrak to stabilize his steps. He's as heavy as he looks you note as he accepts the assistance in walking.You brush the thought away and lead him to the attached owner's suite. It's small but you haven't much choice, enforcers wouldn't do anything but direct the man to a med speeder. And he came to you.

So yes you will help even as his two still beating hearts inexplicably speed up at the sight of your small room.

Colorful tapestries made by your grandmother's hand frame the rough ramshackle bed that was shoved against the wall. The quilts for when the blackouts start are hidden beneath the bed. Your thin sheets that probably should have been thrown out years ago cover the bed now.

Well after tonight they will be thrown or perhaps burned.

You guide the Zabrak to sit on the bed careful of the side he is obviously favoring.

The Zabrak takes in a sharp breath as he sits and shakily lets it out through his mouth. A quiet whine building deep in his chest.

Oh, that's not good...

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ch 3 (written by @mcu-supersoldiers)

The third thing you notice, after the blood, is how warm he is when you help him sit. Which is not necessarily a bad thing. You seem to recall hearing somewhere that Zabraks ran warmer than your own species. Some holodrama celebrity interview or something. It would probably be much more concerning if he was cold, you reason to yourself.

Your hands hover helplessly, afraid to touch more until the droid comes back with the med-kit. The sound coming from him was clearly one of pain, and he held himself stiffly, as if afraid of jostling whatever injury his dark cloak and clothes were hiding.

"Look, I uh- I know we ain't been real personal-like, when you've been coming in. But um. Well, I mean... Gotta see where you're bleeding." You trip over your words in embarrassment.

There was a professional distance you kept with your customers. Sure, you might get to know the chatty ones. Hells, you even went on a date or two with a couple that were bold enough to ask. But you don't touch them. You don't take their clothes off. In your room. This was crossing all sorts of boundaries.

"Do what you must." He replied, his voice breathy, from behind gritted teeth.

You nod, and peel his cloak away from his body. You could see a few tears in it. And more in his clothes. And... you swallow hard.

His left leg has a large shard of what looks like transparisteel embedded high in the meat of his thigh, near his hip. There are smaller pieces and what looks like honest-to-small-gods wood dug into his side and leg. His black clothes hid how badly he must have been bleeding. The transparisteel or whatever it was glittered strangely in the low yellow light of your living unit.

"Oh dear." Your droid exclaims from behind you, making you jump. It hands you a pair of small but sharp scissors.

Your hands tremble slightly as you cut open first the side of his shirt, then his loose fitting pants almost down to the knee.

You knew his skin was red and black. He never took off his hood when he ate at your diner, but you'd caught enough glances. It was quite different to see ALL of that red and black. Red wasn't a common color for a Zabrak, outside of some high fashion holos you'd seen. Nor was the stark black of his markings, the zabraks you'd met personally leaning towards brown on brown, or perhaps browns over more muted oranges and yellows. This was... well, 'STRIKING' didn't quite do it justice.

You scold yourself. The man was bleeding from multiple shrapnel wounds, and you couldn't stop the tingling flush you can feel rising in your cheeks from seeing so much of his skin.

So much of his muscle. You had known he was fit, under that cloak. Something about the way he moved... gliding through your diner to his regular booth. It made something in your baser instincts warn 'predator!'. You'd learned to ignore that fear reaction, after a couple of years. Lots of people in the lower levels were like that. Kinda rough, kinda dangerous. But they very, very rarely came to your establishment looking for anything other than a meal.

So, you wondered... what in the hells could hurt a man that your instincts told you was plenty dangerous in his own right??

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🔥🔥🔥 reblog with your chapter! 🔥🔥🔥

ao3 link in the comments

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[sithqueenkat]

Late night training sessions: Maul x female reader

Warnings: slight fluff and angst but really nothing serious

Summary: Maul is home from a mission and the female reader decides to have a little fun training session with him to distract him for a while.

Word count: 813

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It wasn’t often that you caught him at a quiet moment. Between your job at a local cantina and his traveling around the galaxy, you rarely spent nights together anymore. This is why you were shocked to find him sprawled out on a chair reading a book in your combined living space.

“You’re home early,” you marveled as you made your way over to where he sat.

He let out a soft grunt as you moved to sit on his lap.

“Most missions lead to dead ends for now,” he replied, planting a kiss on your forehead as he pulled you in closer. You enjoyed these small moments. They somehow felt more intimate than anything done in the bedroom which was often aggressive and rushed. 

“You’ll find him someday,” you said softly as you buried yourself deeper into his chest. He was off searching for some fallen Jedi most weeks. You weren’t sure why this one was so important, not being force sensitive yourself, but you supported him nonetheless.

“For now, I get to spend time with you, and that is enough.”

You knew he enjoyed these smaller and quieter moments as well. 

“Yet you’re spending it reading?” you asked with a huff. This was one of his more tame hobbies, but it didn’t change the fact that you wanted his attention.

“This book is important,” he replied, showing you the cover. It was littered in ancient runes and a text you could almost understand. “It’s full of ancient powers that can be obtained through the force. For good and for malicious intent.”

Something no one talked about was how intelligent he was. Reading ancient tongues. Expanding his knowledge. These were all things no one would expect from a normally brute being.

You stood up from where you had been perched on his lap and walked over to the dinner table. It was here he had put his lightsaber, his most prized possession. He didn’t mind you being around such a powerful weapon, and you knew he could summon it into his hand in a moment's notice.

You picked it up and ignited it, marveling at the heat and buzz that radiated from it.

“That is not a toy,” he remarked, not even bothering to look up from his book.

You began waving it around, barely listening to a thing he said. For a moment you were on the battlefield, fighting good and bad.

Suddenly an invisible force began tugging at your waist, and you were being pulled across the room against your will. You stopped right in front of Maul, where he steadied you by placing one hand on your hip, holding the other one out for you to put the saber in.

“I don’t want you hurting yourself,” he said sternly. His eyes shone with fear at the thought of losing you.

“Then teach me how to wield it,” you replied, barely an inch from his face. You enjoyed being so close to him.

He grunted again before setting his book down. He knew he wasn’t getting out of this one so easily. He cleared his throat before standing up.

He placed both his hands on your core, not bothered in the slightest at the ignited lightsaber you still held. You knew he could disarm you in a moment.

“Your strength and balance come from here,” he stated. You tried to contain the blush forming on your cheeks at his hand placement. “When someone comes at you, full force, you want to have a steady base. It is harder to fight if you’re knocked off balance.”

You listened to his words and stiffened up slightly, holding the saber with two hands now. 

“Good girl,” he purred, pushing on you slightly to check your balance.

Your knees went weak at his words. 

“You need only hold the lightsaber with one hand,” he instructed. “You could use your other for calling on the force.”

You immediately broke form and scowled at him. “You know I can’t do that,” you whined.

He took this opportunity to knock you over, probably in the most gentle way he could, disarming you entirely. You heard the saber hiss off behind you as he braced himself with both arms over top of you.

“Never lose your balance,” he reminded you with a smile on his face.

You leaned back on the ground, bracing yourself on your elbows, and let out a laugh. You enjoyed the weight of him on top of you and couldn’t begin to complain about the heat growing inside of you. He leaned in to kiss you before standing up where he pulled you up beside him. The kiss was soft and tender and full of passion, but you could sense a growing desperation from him. He then picked you up and carried you off to your bedroom, and well, you know the rest ;)

#star wars #jedi maul #maul #maul fic #darth maul #darth maul x reader #maul x reader #jedi fallen order #jedi #sith

[fandomobsessedcharacters]

IMAGINE…

Being captured by Maul and him evaluating your skills

You were surrounded. As the death watchers inched closer and closer, you had to fight back. Cause if you were gonna go out, might as well take a few of them with you.

Knocking back one of the death watchers with your force powers, you quickly swung around and kicked your leg into their chest, making that soldier groan in hurt before you wrapped your legs around their neck and forced them to the ground.

Looking back, you force-flew at least a couple of men back, before attacking a few more with such hostility. But from the distance, mandalore’s ruler was observing you.

The way you fought with so much rage. So much fury. So much passion. He couldn’t help but feel…what’s the word? Infatuated? No, that’s not it. He’s…taken by you.

And he couldn’t help but want more of that rage and passion for himself. Alas, he will take that passion, in any way he can.

#star wars imagines #clone wars imagine #darth maul #darth maul x reader #mandalore #savage clone wars #force sensitive reader #clone wars x reader #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ashoka tano #jedi #star wars sith #lightsaber #death watchers #star wars x reader

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Dusk of Heroes

AN: Hey everybody, welcome to the Star Wars and Avengers crossover that I told you about earlier this year. The final pairing for this fic will be Sith Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader and there will be some platonic Maul x Reader

The warnings for this chapter are mentions of war, violence, fighting, guns, death, betrayal and cursing.

If you would like to be tagged in this fic, please let me know by leaving a comment on the fic or by sending me an ask. The mood board was made by me on Canva with images that I found on Google; credits to the original owners of the images.

Chapter 1

A cold, bitter wind swept over the landscape.  The only shelter from the harsh wind could be found by huddling near one of the ruined buildings that dotted the land.

You were unwilling to accept that small comfort because of the dangers that lurked in those buildings.  They were crawling with cameras and guards who had walkie talkies that instantly connected them to government officials or worse, the Jedi that allied themselves with what used to be the American government.

A creaking sound grabbed your attention and you watched as a once sturdy building trembled before collapsing a few metres in front of you.  The chilly wind surged forwards and you shivered, hugging yourself tightly in a last-ditch attempt to preserve some warmth.

“I’ve stayed here too long.  I gotta keep moving,” you thought.  Carefully, you peeked out from your hiding spot and when you were certain that you couldn’t hear any helicopters, you darted forwards.

You ran for a few minutes, pausing behind an abandoned, overturned car on a bridge that offered some protection from the wind.  Weeks ago, you would have simply made your way to the Avengers compound and huddled in front of the heater but now, you were grateful for smaller comforts, like the gloves that protected your hands.

There was another crash and you cast a worried eye around you.  No buildings seemed to be crumbling to the ground but as you looked around more crashing sounds reached your ears.

Against your better judgement, you crept forwards.  About fifty metres in front of you were three men duelling with what appeared to be light swords.  You rested your hands on the metal of the overturned car and raised yourself to the tips of your feet to get a better look.

Two men looked like they were pushing a third backwards.  All of the men had different coloured light swords.  One was red.  Another was green and the last man, who seemed to be the youngest, had a blue sword.  Despite the fact that the man wielding the red light sword had a double blade, he seemed to be fighting defensively.  The two men pursuing him seemed to be more than a match for him.

The green light sword came dangerously close to the legs of the man that wielded the red light sword.  The light illuminated the legs of the man with the red light sword and you raised a hand to your mouth to cover your gasp of horror.  The man’s legs were metal. Your mind instantly thought of Rhodey and what had happened to him when he was fighting alongside Tony.

Luckily none of the duelling men had heard your gasp.  Unfortunately for the man wielding the red light sword, the younger man with the blue light sword, disarmed him with an elegant move that you would have applauded if it were any other situation.

The older of the three men held his green blade to the disarmed man’s throat.  Even though the disarmed man had fallen to his knees, there was an air of defiance as he kept his head raised and waited for what he thought was the inevitable.

“He might be willing to accept his fate, but I certainly am not!” Recklessly, you reached out with your powers and commanded the water to become a gigantic wave and crash onto the men.  The water obeyed your command, dousing each of the men with a large quantity of water.

The men who were still standing spun around and focused on the water.   Sensing that they were distracted, the kneeling man reached forward and snatched his deactivated light sword off of the ground, quietly rose onto his legs, and sprinted away into the shadows.

Then the two man who had been staring at the water looked down at their light swords which were no longer lit.  It didn’t take them long to realise that the man they had defeated had escaped.  Once they did, the air grew heavy with rage; it was so thick it felt like you were choking on it.

The rage in the air disappeared as quickly as it came and to your horror, the men turned in your direction.  You flattened yourself against the underside of the car, hoping that the metal would be enough to protect you as you tried to control your terrified heart.

Footsteps drew closer and you could hear the crunching of glass as they drew nearer.  You prepared yourself for a confrontation.

Then a noise that you’ve never heard before reached your ears.  Bolts of light peppered the ground in front of the car that you were hiding behind, forcing your assailants to halt in their tracks.  The bolts of light continued hitting the ground and your assailants swore in an unfamiliar language as they retreated. 

You gazed up.  Directly above you appeared to be a ship that looked a little like a shoe.  The bolts of light were coming from guns mounted to either side of the shoe-ship.

Then you heard what sounded like repulsors firing up and you swear your heart stopped.

“TONY!” You saw the bright light leave Iron Man’s raised palms and strike the ground just behind the fleeing men.  The combination of structural damage from the bolts of light and Tony’s repulsor blasts cracked the ground.  The cracks spread rapidly, sending the two men hurtling into the water below.

There was a thud and Tony landed next to you, “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”  He stated, his face plate sliding upwards to reveal his grinning face and worried eyes.

“Yes, yes.  Touching reunion and all that.”  A gruff male voice sounded from Tony’s armoured arm, “Reunions are always better when everyone’s alive.”

“Yeah, yeah, Fett.  We’ll be up there in a sec.”  Tony replied.

“If you’re not up here within ten seconds, I’m taking off and leaving you here to fend for yourselves.”

“He wouldn’t.”  Tony assured you as he held out his arms and you walked into his embrace.

“I would.”  Fett grumbled once you had looped your arms around Tony and his face plate slid back down to conceal his face.

The repulsors fired again except this time, it was the ones on Tony’s feet.  You pressed your cheek into his armoured chest as he flew the two of you upwards.

#my writing #my fics #marvel x star wars #avengers au #star wars au #reader insert #female reader #tony stark #jango fett #boba fett #qui-gon jinn #obi-wan kenobi #darth maul #qui-gon and obi-wan are sith lords au #sith obi-wan kenobi x reader #spoilers for marvel movies #spoilers for star wars movies and series

[makrokosmuss-blog]

hello!! i just found out your blog and i love the obi wan works!!! i wanted to ask you if you posted any more chapters of the Viscer series? maybe in ao3 or here? because i loved it!! i really like your writings, i hope you have a great day!! <3

Hello! Oh Thank you so much that means the world. In all honesty - i haven't. BUT, i've been putting it off for forever and I suppose now with your message is as good a time as any :) I'll start posting the chapters on ao3 or here in the coming days! Hope you'll like the rest as well!

#obi wan x reader #obi wan fic #obi wan kenobi #maul x oc #maul x reader #maul fic #obi wan imagine #maul imagine #sith oc #star wars prequels

[ariesfirestoneart]

My 3rd attempt at Darth Maul!!

Maul lovers enjoy!

Let me know if you’d like to see the first two tries?

#darth maul #maul opress #darth maul x male reader #sith lord #sith #maul formerly darth #maul fanart #star wars #star wars fanart #red sith #star wars clone wars

[ijustwanttoreadfanfiction]

#star wars #star wars playlist #sith #kylo ren #anakin skywalker #darth vader #darth maul #kylo ren x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #sith reader #kylo ren x sith!reader #the dark side #star wars the rise of skywalker #star wars the force awakens #star wars the last jedi #star wars the phantom menace #star wars revenge of the sith #star wars a new hope #star wars attack of the clones #star wars the empire strikes back #star wars return of the jedi #Spotify

[zoeykallus]

smh i cannot believe i missed your first maul hc post 🤤

haha omg maul waking in on fem reader doing “self care!” and if you can, a version where fem reader has to seduce maul and another version where maul has to seduce fem reader? (if that is too much, just pick the scenario you like best.)

Aloha!

I'm so sorry for the late response! These days I can barely find time to write. Most of the time, I write at nights when I'm supposed to be sleeping 😅 Which is good and bad. My creative side is wide awake at night, much more so than during the day. The downside is, I don't get nearly enough sleep, I might get mistaken for a zombie and catch a headshot some day. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Okay, enough excuses and crying over spilled milk.

If you don't mind, I really like the idea of Maul walking in on fem!reader doing self-care. He needs to punish her, of course.

Maul x fem!Reader Oneshot - Bad Girl

Warnings: Smut/Sexual Content/Dub-Con/PiV/Toy Use/Dom Maul/ Sub Reader/Cunnilingus/18+

________________________

These days, Maul is on the road a lot again. You don't know exactly what he does, he doesn't talk much about his missions, the things he does. In any case, you haven't had any intimate contact for a long time. You are ravenous, Maul is on the road again, and you take the opportunity. You have completely undressed, naked self-care just feels better. With one hand you caress and massage your breasts, play with your nipples, the other hand wanders between your thighs. Your fingers dance over your clit. It feels good, always close to the edge, but somehow not close enough. Something is missing. You grab your favorite dildo, a custom one you had secretly made, it's modeled after Maul's cock, with the same nubs, and ridges. A cheeky smile is on your lips. You touch the dildo, it feels deceptively real, in excited anticipation, juices gather in your pussy. You place the dildo on your wet entrance as your fingers continue to rub over your clit. "I've been a bad girl," you say softly as you begin to push the lifelike dildo inside of you. It feels so good, so relieving, almost real. This is it, this is what you've been missing. With a moan, you drop your head back on the sofa cushion and start moving the dildo between your slick walls.

But then you hear something, it sounds like a growl. You lift your head in surprise. Maul is standing in the middle of the room, staring at you, his gaze gloomy, hard to interpret.

You haven't even heard him coming in. He stands there with his natural crown of horns, his eyes like a burning ember.

Startled, you tear the blanket off the back of the sofa and want to cover yourself, but Maul darts over to you and snatches the blanket from you, throwing it carelessly behind him. You lie there, naked, with the dildo in your pussy, heart racing as he stands over you. He examines you, his gaze falling between your legs. "I guess you couldn't wait for me to come back?" he growls. You swallow, searching for your voice, and finally say, "You've been gone so much lately, it's been a long time since we've.... well-" He interrupts you, "And you thought you were cheating on me with a piece of plastic?" You blink. "Cheating?" you ask, confused. He points to the piece of dildo sticking out of your wet pussy. "Yes, cheating. Or is that my cock in your pussy?" Again you blink in confusion. You know that Maul is prone to jealousy, very much so, but jealousy of a dildo is not what you expected.

"Well, it's basically your cock," you say meekly. He frowns, kneels on the sofa between your legs and grabs the bottom of the dildo, pulling it out a bit, eliciting a small moan from you. His gaze shoots back up to your face. You look at him shyly, cheeks heated. Finally, he looks back down, at the dildo, turning it a little inside your pussy to see more of it. You have to bite your lower lip to keep from moaning again. "That one really looks like mine," he murmurs thoughtfully. He looks back up into your face, a teasing smirk on his face. "Well, in that case," he says, sliding the dildo back in. Your mouth pops open, and you can't hold back the moan. You hear him laugh softly. "While we're at it.... what's that?" He spots the vibration switch, turns it on, eliciting a sweet little sound from you. His grin widens, and he increases the vibration level, all the way up. "Oh gods," you squeeze out, feeling like your whole body is being shaken.

"If you're going to do it, do it right," he says, amused. He lies down between your legs, grips your thighs tightly with his hands, and his mouth descends on your clit. He sucks on it while his tongue slides wildly over it, circling, applying pressure. "Fuck... Maul..." You can't even manage to form complete sentences anymore, the vibration in connection with his tongue play is just too much. You're literally racing towards the edge. His tongue is so fast and deft, the dildo filling you vibrates wildly between your slick walls. You long for the climax, but you're also a little afraid of it. You know he will overstimulate you mercilessly, that's his way of punishment. But you can't stop it, your orgasm lets out a loud moan from your lungs, rolls over your whole body like a wave and makes your thighs quiver. But he doesn't stop. His tongue dances wildly on your swollen, overstimulated clit, the dildo continues to vibrate in your pussy. You moan, twitching, trembling in his hard grip that is sure to leave marks. "Maul... please... no more..."

He waits a few more seconds until he gives in to your pleading. Maul sits up, jerks the dildo out of your pussy, which elicits a surprised sound from you. He doesn't turn the dildo off yet, though. He just puts it aside for a moment, grabs your hips, and flips you onto your stomach. "Spread it," he murmurs. You spread your legs for him as instructed. Maul slides the dildo under your pussy so the toy vibrates right against your clit. You start to twitch again, still overstimulated, but he puts his hand just above your butt on your lower back, pushing you down, onto the dildo. You let out a squeak, and you know he's smiling with satisfaction right now. One leg on the floor, one knee on the sofa, he kneels right behind your bare ass. With his free hand, he opens his pants, freeing his now hard, thick cock. He gives you a good slap on the butt, not aggressive, almost tender. "My bad girl," he says, laughing softly.

In the position, pressed by him into the sofa, naked in front of him, about to finally receive the real cock, your arousal picks up momentum again. Then you feel his tip bumping against your opening, slowly plunging between your slick walls. He penetrates you completely. Maul pauses there a moment with a growl, deep from his chest, he can feel the vibration of the toy as well. "Interesting," he says softly. Then he gets going, his hips starting to thrust back and forth, faster and faster. His pelvis keeps hitting your buns loudly, the clapping fills the room. He now has both hands on your hips, pushing you towards his thrusts and down onto the vibrating dildo as he does so, his balls touching the toy and causing a surprising rush.

His fingers dig into the flesh on your hips as he fucks you harder and harder. You bite into the pillow on which your head has been lying before, your fingers claw into the fabric of the sofa. Your saliva wets the pillow, your eyes roll back. The moment his warm cum spurts into your cleft, your walls twitch around his grooved cock, your orgasm pulsing sweet and heavy through your swollen pussy as he fills you. Both of you are breathing heavily. Slowly, Maul lets go of your hips, you can feel that he has left bruises there. He bends over you, kisses the spots and says, "I had to punish you". You can live with this kind of punishment, you think to yourself silently. But you know Maul knows full well that you like it. He gets you some wipes, so you can clean yourself up, then he says, "Get ready, we're going out tonight." "You're taking me out?" you ask with a smile. He rolls his eyes, but then he also smiles and says, "You're right, I've been out a lot, leaving you alone for too long."

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

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#star wars #maul #darth maul #maul x reader #darth maul x reader #smut #maul smut #darth maul smut #star wars smut #maul x reader smut #sith #sith lord #asks #requests #suggestive #dub-con #zabrak

[thenightmarketofdathomir]

Title: Drown Me in You Author: nxctuary / @aftergloom (The Wishmonger) Pairing: Darth Maul x Reader / Darth Maul x You (AFAB Cis)  Rating: Explicit  Word Count: 5,745 words

Summary: “They could not bring me back the same.” It wasn’t an explanation you understood, finding him that first time, submerged to the ears so that only the glow of his eyes and the reach of his horns protruded above the brackish water of the swamp. Little webs of sodden lichen and moss clung to him, and with nothing visible save for his expression, all you felt was cold hunger — A million miles between your kind and his, and not knowing his words were warning, you crouched on the shore, your bare toes sinking into the silt, and you held your human hand to him as if you could beckon the creature closer. “I can help you,” you told him. Beneath the surface, his smile was a reflection in razors. “No, my dear.”

...

Nothing is wasted on Dathomir, and those that return to the planet often emerge from the waters... different.

For Mermay 2023: Mermaid!Maul x (AFAB) Reader

Warnings: Teratophilia, Exophilia, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Coercion, Breeding, Oviposition, Size Difference, Alien Biology, Blood (mention), Mating Bond, Alien Physiology (Cloaca)

🖤❤️🖤 A preview of the fic is included beneath the cut, or you may jump directly to Ao3 to read it in its entirety. 🖤❤️🖤

“They could not bring me back the same.”

It wasn’t an explanation you understood, finding him that first time, submerged to the ears so that only the glow of his eyes and the reach of his horns protruded above the brackish water of the swamp. Little webs of sodden lichen and moss clung to him, and with nothing visible save for his expression, all you felt was cold hunger —

A million miles between your kind and his, and not knowing his words were warning, you crouched on the shore, your bare toes sinking into the silt, and you held your human hand to him as if you could beckon the creature closer.

“I can help you,” you told him.

Beneath the surface, his smile was a reflection in razors.

“No, my dear.”

He did not retreat, but sank, sending ripples across muddy water that echoed in the Force, leaving your shirt sticking to the sweat on your back and your hot skin fettered with Dathomir’s humidity; its bog-reek and festering, fecund decomposition stuffed into your nostrils a guarantee that whatever dies here feeds the nexus.

It’s just the way of things: death, decay, and life’s return.

Nothing is wasted.

It makes the planet rich.

When he blinks, the membrane leaves his shining gaze slits of flame, burning and hollow, and achingly alone —

A solitary creature who will not show you his face, though he wears the markings of a Nightbrother, forgotten to the swamps and consumed by solitary contemplation between the splayed roots of trees, and in the recesses where the water and the Force stir together.

He watches you — a being so powerful that he can breathe these waters despite the difficult conditions — but something is missing in that burning stare.

“What dwells here is more monster than man,” he says. “You should go. Do not return.”

“But I can help you —”

Because you felt some relief at finding another living soul who might communicate with words and feelings after so many nights studying the ruins of a civilization hostile to outsiders. Dathomir whispers, but its interest is entirely self-serving:

You think the nexus wanted you to find him.

“No one can help me,” he says, and then he’s gone.

Darkness descends when the swamp closes over his head, and only the slap of water against the trees from the lash of a powerful, spiked tail fin reveals his true nature as he vanishes beneath the surface.

The world falls to quiet, the silence muffled as you realize that all life goes still when in the presence of a powerful predator, and slowly, your heart pounding, you listen to the first trill and glug of life returning.

He’s gone, you think.

But somewhere in the distance, between the drape of moss and vine, you think you can see the bright gleam of his consideration, looking at you from a distance safe enough to realize he’s intrigued.

Read the rest on Ao3 >

#terato #Darth Maul #Maul #Darth Maul x Reader #Darth Maul x You #Maul x Reader #Maul x You #Mermaul #Mermay #spicy #Darth Maul Fanfic #Maul Fanfic #Mermay Fanfic #Mermaid Darth Maul #Mermaid Maul #Nightbrothers #Nightsister Magic #Book of Sith #Star Wars Legends #Star Wars PWP #Dathomir #AFAB Reader #AFAB Cis Reader #mermaid x afab reader

[yandere-wishes]

Idk why I think most Sith lords are hot 😔😔 unfortunately most of them aren't in any shows/movies and go completely unnoticed by the fandom (or at least the x reader part of it). If Darth Bane, Darth Revan, and Darth Nihilus made an appearance in tv media I'm pretty sure they'd acquire quite the fanbase. I really hope Disney wakes up and starts using these awesome characters~💜💜

#star wars #sith lords #star wars headcanons #yandere #yancore #yandere x you #yandere x reader #darth nihilus #darth maul #darth vader #darth bane #darth plagueis #darth revan

[dathomirdumpsterfire]

~Snacks of Dathomir Snippet~

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

There's a body on the stairs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#this is going to complete trash #sterotypes and problematic behavior and moral bankruptcy and violence and horrible flirting and sporadic updates and quiche #star wars #darth maul #savage opress #feral opress #sith #zabrak #nightbrothers #dathomir #x reader #fanfiction #silly smut and literal cooking recipes #you wanna learn mando'a? #i'm going to be injecting more and more as we go #nightbrother culture #nightmagick #nightsisters #cooking show bullshit #confession: i don't know how to cook #confession: i'm using a translator to make up fancy names for the food #confession: i don't know how being a professional chef works #this entire thing is built on sitcom stereotypes #the smut ain't happening right away it's not the point #the point is chaffles

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Attachment of a Child [part 1]

Pairings: Obi-Wan Kenobi x child!reader (includes Kit Fisto)

Imagine: one of the children in the Jedi temple seems to have formed an attachment to Obi-Wan and follows him around all over the temple whenever he’s there

Warnings: fluff, Obi-Wan hugs, Obi-Wan taking care of a child (that needs a warning for real), Obi accidentally adopted you, otherwise none, I think, it’s just fluff, Not proofread

A/N I couldn’t stop myself from writing this, it just came to me randomly and I had to write it, I don’t even know if it’s good or not I just had to write it bc just imagine Obi-Wan being followed by a child who copies his movements, that’s so adorable 🥰 <3

If you have any ideas for Obi-Wan x padawan!reader (platonic obviously) please feel free to send them to me, I love writing Obi-Wan x padawan

The first time Obi-Wan had stepped into the room filled with younglings after “defeating” Darth Maul, he wasn’t too surprised when he saw all of the children’s eyes light up. Big eyes stared at him with amazement and wonder, as well as curiosity and excitement.

The now Jedi master had gained some kind of fame with the younglings ever since he became a master and defeated a Sith Lord. Not to say that the children didn’t love him before (they sure did), but now they all seemed to look up to him as some sort of war hero. Look at him for wisdom more so than the other masters, Yoda being the exception.

One youngling in particular had taken a shine to the newly made master. You. Obi-Wan had nothing against you, he quite liked taking care of you from time to time, it was a distraction from all the chaos in the galaxy at the moment. He found it rather calming and he would never say no to teaching anyone something new, especially younglings who had the curiosity that could go on for forever. You were no different from those younglings except you didn’t ask your questions (too shy to do it) but rather listened intently to any information Obi-Wan would tell the class. It was one of the reasons why you loved classes with Master Kenobi. He was calm and could talk for hours and had most of the answers to all of your classmates questions (therefore your questions were answered as well, for the most part).

Nights were often spent with the younglings as he told them one of his many stories from another planet. He lulled them to sleep with his calm voice as he talked about facts he picked up from his reading about the planet, or missions he had with Anakin or his former master. Obi-Wan hadn’t stopped you when you crawled up onto his lap, nor did he stop any other of the younglings as they cuddled into the warmth he radiated to their sleepy forms.

More than one time you had been the child to sit on his lap, for some reason the Master nearly always picked you up and placed you on his lap, or he just let you plant yourself on his lap without a single complaint. He knew he made your anxieties calm down as he let you cuddle into his side. If he could help the younglings in any way, he would to the best of his abilities. He was once one himself after all and knew how the life of a youngling could be. The anxiety that could be brought to any of them at any moment if they failed, the strict rules or the doubt they felt, the rumors of danger. Especially with what everyone knew was an upcoming war and the betrayal of Dooku and the death of Darth Maul. Along with those rumors and facts they were supposed to study and become a future Jedi while not forming attachments and nor were they allowed to act on their emotions, especially the fear and anger that they felt. So yes, Obi-Wan would gladly let you sit on his lap if it helped you calm down while he told you and the other children a story before they were supposed to sleep.

It’s safe to say that it wasn’t uncommon for any one in the temple to see any of the younglings run up to Obi-Wan for help, especially if something troubled them. Nor was it uncommon to see you walking beside the master. Which was what happened today.

Obi-Wan had just walked past the room in which you and your classmates had just finished up your first lesson of the day. Some of the younglings had already rushed out of the room before Master Yoda could even finish his sentence, you were one among them. You had felt Obi-Wan’s force signature and you saw him through the slightly opened door walk past the room and you had sprinted out of the room not willing to lose him in the many halls of the temple. Luckily for you the temple was relatively empty at this time in the morning so it didn’t take you too long to find the brown cloak and his auburn hair among those walking the corridors.

The Jedi Master heard small feet sprint towards him but he made no indication of turning around towards the person or to wait for the child to catch up, he already knew it was you, how could he not, he was way too familiar with your force signature. He knew where you were at any time of the day, your force signature rather strong for a child.

If he had turned around he would have seen that you had mimicked his actions. You put your hand behind your back like he had done, you tried to walk in his pace as well as in the same way he walked. This proved quite hard even if the master had slowed down a tad bit for you as he felt you walking beside him, but the long strides were still too fast for a child to catch up entirely to. Any Jedi master that walked past the two of you thought they saw a mini kenobi as you mimicked his every action, even when he rubbed against his beard (even though you didn’t have beard yourself you still did it)

“Hello Master Kenobi” In watching Obi-Wan and trying to mimic him you had completely forgotten to look at where you were going and so you didn’t notice when Obi-Wan stopped in front of Kit Fisto.

“Hello Master Fisto” Kenobi answered politely, giving a smile back towards Master Fisto who gave his signature charming smile. By the time Obi-Wan said that you had looked up and the Nautolan turned towards you as he noticed you standing next to the jedi master you were still mimicking. He studied you for a second, a puzzled look grazed his future before his smile was back.

“And hello to you too youngling, I see you’ve taken a shine to Master Kenobi” A blush spread itself over your cheeks as you got called out by the Jedi in front of you.

The words stumbled out of you as you quietly said “Hello Master Fisto”.

After the words left you, you hid away behind Kenobi's robes not wanting anyone to see your embarrassed state. To this Obi-Wan, like a natural instinct, put his left arm to shield you. Kit Fisto’s reaction to this was what every jedi had told you and Obi-Wan a lot of times before.

“Be careful with the young one Obi-Wan, they might become a bit too attached to you otherwise”

The master like everyone else knew you were already attached towards the master that you hid behind. He could have stopped it all, right there and then, so could Obi-Wan and the rest of the order, but somehow they allowed it, they let it slide by them, if they didn’t see anything then it wasn’t their problem, and if they saw they opted to ignore it. You were like a bright shining cyber crystal in the temple as you cutely followed the auburn haired master around. And it seemed like everyone needed something bright at the moment, with the darker times that were approaching. No, Kit Fisto wouldn’t be the one to stop your attachment towards the newest member of the council, but what he could do was give a warning. He did not want an innocent child or Obi-Wan to fall, not that either of you would, but he could still give the occasional reminders, like Master Windu seemed to give away way too many times.

You were attached, and nothing would stop that. Obi-Wan noticed when he looked down at you, that you were still mimicking his movements. He gave you a fond smile as he studied your stance. You stood in the same posture as him and frankly you looked like a mini him, not that he complained about it, Obi-Wan found it quite amusing how you seemed to want to act like him any chance you got. Not only was it amusing to him but he found it adorable. But so was the thought of every other person in the Jedi temple who had seen you walk after the Jedi master any chance you got since you got old enough to walk.

#obi wan kenobi x platonic!reader #obi wan kenobi x child!reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan kenobi x son!reader #obi wan kenobi x gn!reader #obi wan kenobi x daughter!reader #obi wan kenobi x padawan!reader #x padawan!reader #Star Wars x reader #Star Wars #obi-wan kenobi #kit fisto x reader

[7-wonders]

Between Wrath and Mercy

Sith!Ankain Skywalker x Rebel!reader (gender-neutral)

Summary: Finding yourself in a fight with Darth Maul, you quickly realize that you're way out of your depth. Unfortunately, no one's coming to save you. Aha, unless?

Word Count: 2.0k

A note from the author: Remember how I was like, "I'm having a lot of trouble writing the words aren't coming like they used to"? I think this helped to unclog a bit of the writer's block I've had. Maybe I just need to write for a different fandom for a bit. This takes place in my Rebel!reader fic-verse (gender-neutral reader!), but before What You Stand to Lose. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round (especially the latter two), and I hope you enjoy!

How do I keep ending up in situations like this? you wonder as you dodge yet another Sith Lord’s lightsaber strike and immediately counter it with your own.

That’s a stupid question, because you know how. You decided to join the Rebel Alliance, to fight for a noble cause, and now your life is pretty consistently put in mortal danger. Still, when a mission to try and convince the head of Crimson Dawn that you were all fighting for the same goal was proposed, you were the first to volunteer. Maybe it’s a desperation to prove yourself as useful that made you do it, or maybe you need to remind yourself that you’re working for something good. Regardless, you had been stupid and self-assured, enough so that General Kessyk had given you a small team to command and sent you on your way to Corellia.

Said small team is now incapacitated, rendered useless almost the moment you had ambushed the Crimson Dawn leader who had turned out to be none other than Darth Maul—a surprise to you all, since Dryden Voss is the public face of the syndicate. This revelation completely turned your game plan on its head, as you’re now left to face his wrath alone.

And he has a lot of wrath.

“Look, if you would just listen for a moment,” you yell at him over the sound of electricity humming, “I think you would see that we all want the same thing!”

“And what thing is that?” Darth Maul snarls, raising his blade above his head and attempting to crash it down on top of you.

You meet it with your own, gritting your teeth under the strain as you attempt to hold him back. “The end of the Galactic Empire!”

He bears down harder in response, and your arms begin to shake. Knowing when to give up some yield is half the success in battle, so you adjust your strategy and drop to your knees, doing a quick roll to get some space in between you. He turns to face you once more, his yellow eyes so filled with hatred that it makes a frightened whimper get stuck in your throat.

“Please, we only came to talk. We can be allies!” you plead.

“What happens after the Empire is defeated? We part on good terms and go our separate ways?” Maul shakes his head, twirling his saber and stalking towards you. “No. At the end of the day, the Sith will always be an enemy. I will always be an enemy.”

“I’m sure that—woah!” He renews his attacks with vigor, clearly done talking. Unfortunately for him, you’re not done. “I’m sure that the Rebel Alliance would be happy to negotiate some sort of treaty.”

“I have had enough of arrogant little Force users thinking that they can change the galaxy with ‘the power of goodness,’” he mocks. “You are not the first to approach me with your misguided ideals.”

Maul kicks the center of your chest and sends you falling to the ground, a position you never want to find yourself in when fighting for your life. Attempting to scramble backward is made extra difficult with the lightsaber in your hand, and it’s only delaying the inevitable as Maul follows you slowly, a predator stalking his prey. With a firm smack, your saber goes flying out of your reach.

He holds his lightsaber to your chest and smirks down at you as it burns a hole through the fabric of your shirt. “But you will be the last.”

You raise both hands up in a last-ditch plea, though you know it’s for naught. This is it. You’ve lost. You’ll become just another name on the long list of lives lost as sacrifices for the fight for a better tomorrow.

Though you’d like to say that a sense of peace comes over you as you stare your impending death in the eyes, that’s not the case. You’re scared out of your mind, actually, and the only thing comforting you is the fact that it’ll be a quick death. With that in mind, you close your eyes and await the inevitable.

But the inevitable never comes. Where you were expecting pain and darkness, there’s simply darkness from screwing your eyes shut. After a couple of long moments, you hesitantly open your eyes. Darth Maul no longer looms over you. Instead, he’s a few feet away, engaged in battle with someone else.

“It was foolish of me to believe that Kenobi could actually finish the job and successfully kill somebody for once,” he spits, twirling his saber in his hand as another red saber clashes with his.

“You said it, not me!”

Belatedly, you realize that you know that cocky, annoying voice. Sure enough, Darth Vader is now Darth Maul’s opponent, and he’s faring much better than you had. His helmet is off, allowing you to see the arrogant grin he’s sporting, and his blond curls fly around his face as he swings his lightsaber through the air.

“Vader?” you call, still feeling like your eyes are deceiving you. 

He looks over at you, his grin somehow getting bigger. “C’mon, get up and help me out!”

You stumble to your feet and call your lightsaber back to your hand using the Force, but remain back. Vader doesn’t need your help, because he’s very clearly winning. You would only be a hindrance if you were to join, so instead, you watch.

Even if you didn’t know that the two Sith lords had been trained for a very long time, their fighting styles would make it obvious. The way that they move, so fluidly and deadly, is an art form. It almost looks like a dance, if a dance could end in somebody’s death.

“Darth Sidious won’t be pleased when he finds out you’re helping out the Rebel Alliance,” Darth Maul taunts, bending over backward to avoid a swing.

Darth Vader curses at the near-miss. “Oh, but I’m not.”

“Then what do you call this?”

He looks over his shoulder and winks at you. “Helping the one particular Rebel that I have a vested interest in.”

“Pathetic!” Darth Maul spits.

Vader’s lightsaber makes contact with the palm of Maul’s hand, and he yells out in pain. He catches his saber with his other hand before it can fall to the ground, but he’s unable to grip it with both hands now. Though he could fight one-handed, against somebody as talented as Darth Vader, he wouldn’t be very successful. The light from his saber disappears as he extinguishes it, giving one curt nod before he backs off.

“This is not the end,” he promises.

“No, I don’t believe it is.”

Though Vader could very easily finish him, there are rules to a battle. When one willingly concedes, the fight is over, no matter how much the other wishes that it wasn’t. You and Vader both watch as Maul makes it to his ship and escapes, flying high above your heads and away from Corellia.

Vader turns his attention to you, wrapping his large hands around your upper arms and looking you up and down. “Are you alright?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“You were the one about to die.”

“I had it under control,” you claim, even though you very much did not have it under control. “And I didn’t need you to save me.”

“Oh, you didn’t? That’s not what it looked like to me.” 

His fingers move to the open hole in your shirt left by Maul’s lightsaber above your heart. The skin there is shiny from a light burn—it’s nothing that will hinder you in the long run, but it does sting a bit, especially when Vader lightly touches this wound. You hiss through your teeth, but he doesn’t move.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” he notes, his voice soft from concentration.

Your cheeks burn at this because you know there are a couple of reasons for your racing heart, and only one of them is from the exertion of battle. Wiggling your hands up, you get enough of a space that you can lightly push yourself away from Vader.

“What are you—how did you know that I would be here?” you demand, having been under the assumption that everybody had done very well in making sure this was a top-secret mission.

“We received some intel that the Rebel Alliance would be making a rather stupid attempt at reaching out to Crimson Dawn. I was going to just let Maul have at it, but then I thought, ‘What are the odds that my Rebel would be involved in this?’”

“I am not your Rebel.” The way that he looks at you, like you mean something to him, makes your heart clench in a way that you don’t want to consider right now. Onto the next subject, then. “Why did you help me in the first place? You could have let him kill me. You should have let him kill me, actually. Would have saved you a lot of trouble.”

“I don’t want you dead.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course, you just want me to join you and go against every one of my morals.”

“I still have morals, Rebel. If you were willing to listen, to be open-minded, I think you’d find that the Dark Side is not evil. Where the Light Side wanted their Jedi to shirk all of their emotions and attachments, the Dark Side encourages those emotions. Anger, sadness, passion…love. Sith believe in a world where we’re all free to feel what we want, to allow that which scares us to be out in the open so that we may overpower it. You can’t tell me that this sounds evil.”

You remain silent, because you don’t know what to think. With how Vader puts it, the Dark Side doesn’t sound all evil. Actions speak louder than words, however, and you’ve seen the terror and devastation that the Empire and the Dark Side have unleashed on the galaxy. You’re not willing to dwell on it right now (or ever, really; just thinking about the possibility of Vader’s words having some validity makes you feel like you’re betraying the Rebel Alliance), so you force it to the back of your mind and refuse to think about it any longer.

“Well, I think my work here is done,” Vader declares with a sigh, clipping his saber back onto his belt.

You look at him in confusion. “Wait, you’re not…going to force me to be your apprentice? I mean, now’s kind of the perfect time.” You don’t want him to do so, but you were sure you knew what his end goal was, since he’s made it clear every other time you’ve encountered him.

“It is,” he agrees. “But I’ve decided that it does no good to have you join me against your will. When the time comes, you’ll give yourself to me—to the Dark Side willingly.”

He sounds so sure of this, like it’s a foregone conclusion. You’re about to argue, to insist once more that you’ll never join him, when you hear groaning behind you.

“Looks like your crew is starting to come to,” Vader notes. “I’ll see you soon.”

You don’t doubt that, but you won’t let him know that. “I sure hope not.”

He laughs, already walking to his own ship. “Make sure to get that burn checked out so that it doesn’t get infected!” he yells to you.

The groaning gets louder before you can tell him to not tell you what to do, and somebody calls your name sluggishly. Your pilot is trying to roll over onto his hands and knees, and the others aren’t far behind him in waking up. You get ready to help, as all good Rebels do—because that’s what you are, someone good and helpful and nothing at all like the Sith Lord that increasingly occupies your thoughts as of late.

You’re not like him, you tell yourself, and you’ll do everything in your power to ensure that you won’t ever be like him.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #sith!anakin #sith!anakin skywalker #sith!anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #star wars imagine #star wars #rebel!reader #sith!anakin x rebel!reader #rebel-verse au