Summary: Maul messages you during a mission while you recover from an injury back on base.
word count: 1,824
cw: some very mild nsfw/suggestive content at the end
a/n: i had so much fun writing this. maul and reader have been together for awhile and bicker like an old married couple. its just cute, silly fun. i hope yall like this format and enjoy this fic as much as i do
thank you to @maul-appreciation-week for arranging this event!
Maul:
Confirm you attended the morning medical review. Do not lie to me. I will know.
You:
Yes, dear. Though, you could've just confirmed with the medical droids if you didn't trust me to answer truthfully.
Maul:
Confirmation received. The flight proceeds on schedule. The skeleton crew has orders regarding your care, which I am aware you have already read. 2-1B informed me you requisitioned the duty roster within an hour of our departure. You are not in the chain of command of your own convalescence. I shall remind you that you are to follow the physician's orders and nothing else.
Do note: I do trust you. That is why I asked.
You:
Then you should trust me to take care of myself, silly :P
Maul:
I have now stared at that insolent little glyph for longer than it deserves. You sent it over military-grade encrypted channel. Somewhere on this ship, there is a communications officer who maintains this relay under the belief that it is purely strategic.
To your point, trusting you and trusting you to take care of yourself are not the same thing. Do not force me to remind you what happens when you defy my orders.
I trust you with my life and my fleet. Your recovery I trust to the physician, the droid, and my standing orders, in that sequence, and you will note that you do not appear in that list.
Attend your mid-day physical therapy session and do not be late. I do not wish to be pestered by 2-1B unnecessarily, because unlike you, it lacks charm.
You:
The communications officer is Raquel, and he is very nice. I don't think he'd mind me sending an emoticon over his channel. I think he'd find it just as funny as I do that it took you a while to understand what :P was.
You're so cute when you nag. I'll be good and follow the doctor's orders <3
Maul:
Three items.
One. The communications officer is Rakel, not Raquel, and he is due for a performance review, the timing of which is unrelated to this conversation.
Two. I understood the glyph immediately. What required time was accepting that the woman I share my collective with communicates in punctuation arranged to resemble a face children make. The second glyph I have identified as well. It is a heart, and it is anatomically wrong.
Three. I am not "cute". There are systems where my name is used to frighten disobedient children into behaving. Do not test whether I remain willing to remind you why.
I put considerable effort into my reputation. My concerns are strategic in value. I am too well acquainted with your impudence to leave you unsupervised.
"I'll be good" is acceptable, and I will hold you to it with the full weight of my command, which you hold in dubious respect, which is why I am also saying: thank you.
Rest. Both of my hearts insist.
You:
One: since when do we do performance reviews?
Two: you know very well who I am and share a bed with me anyway
Three: yes you are very scary, but also very sweet. That's why I like you
I promise to rest because I'm aware of how fragile your hearts can be.
Goodnight, my love. Whenever that is for you.
Maul:
I expect you to be asleep when this arrives. I will know if you are not.
One. Rook does the performance reviews.
Two. Yes, you know precisely what I am and share a bed with me anyway. Yet I sometimes wonder why I keep you, given I am nearly pushed off the mattress every night. The source of the strength you exhibit during unconsciousness eludes me.
Three. I understand this argument will cycle until the end times, so I am withdrawing. Not conceding; there is a difference.
As for my hearts: they are hardly fragile considering they are repeatedly exercised by a woman who continuously tests my patience.
Goodnight, my dear. It is not night here, though I do hope it comes quickly, so I may return to you.
Maul:
The channel log indicates my last transmission was received at 0247 GST and still remains unread as of this composition. This is consistent with sleep. It pleases me to know you have remained true to your word.
Though, as I've stated before, I wish to keep communications with the 2-1B unit as minimal as possible. I ask that you relay to me the status of your person upon awakening.
Eat before physical therapy. A single granola bar does not constitute a full meal.
Night falls on my end. I expect your report before we make planetfall at 1100 GST.
That is all.
You:
Status Report: Slept a full 8 hours with no disruption. Pain levels are manageable with medication intervention. Breakfast was nerf sausage patties and eggs, a total of 23 grams of protein. Physical therapy begins in an hour.
I hope you're sleeping well. I miss you too. The bed is very cold and empty without you.
{MMS attachment. You have just woken up and lay across your bed, your hand resting atop Maul's pillow.}
An apology, for keeping you waiting :P
Maul:
Report received. Protein intake acceptable. Sleep duration acceptable.
I am assuming the image I have received is intelligence. It is saved to a secure partition pending use.
The bed is cold because of your poor thermoregulation. Though, you are free to hold position on my side until relieved.
Planetfall is in two hours. Report again midday. That is an order.
You:
Status Report, midday: PT session complete with productive results. Pain is at 3, next dose of medication is scheduled for this evening. Lunch was nerf and vegetable stew, 31 grams of protein.
Bruising is "progressing beautifully" according to 2-1B, which is disturbing to hear from a droid.
Hope planetfall went smooth. Try not to raze anything that doesn't deserve it.
Maul:
Planetfall proceeded within parameters. The Consigliere attempted a renegotiation upon our arrival. He has been dissuaded without the use of razing. I hope my conduct has met your standards.
Your midday report is, in all respects, compliant. The pain figure is acceptable. Protein figure is acceptable. 2-1B's descriptive programming will be addressed upon my return.
One administrative note. Yesterday's report established a format that included an MMS field. Today's report deviates from that format. I raise this not as a complaint but as a matter of documentation standards. Consistency of record is the foundation for all sound intelligence and I am, as you know, a thorough man who holds my crew to a high standard. I expect you to course correct.
Take your evening dose on schedule. Report in the morning.
You:
Noted. I'll be sure to keep all my reports consistent going forward.
However, I cannot promise consistent contents. As you know, intelligence is reviewed before it is sent, and I have been removed from the duty roster for the duration of my recovery.
I remain, in all sanctioned matters, a woman of my word and a follower of orders, My Lord :)
Good night <3
You:
{MMS attachment. You are draped in Maul's blood-red bathrobe, sitting cross legged on the bed. The collar slips off your shoulder.}
Not a report. This is a civilian transmission from a civilian.
Found something warmer than the blanket. Hope you don't mind, it's not like you were using it.
Maul:
Message received at 1642 local time.
I want the record to reflect that you purchased that robe for me, and I have, as you correctly observed, found minimal use for it. Now that it carries your scent, I may actually wear it.
I expect to find you in it when I return, and nothing else. Do not deny me of that.
Three days.
You:
Good news from PT today! Range of motion is officially back. Thought you'd want visual confirmation, for the record.
{Holovid attachment. You are still in Maul's robe. You rotate your shoulder both forward and backwards. At the second rotation, you slip your hands underneath the collar and let it drop to your elbows, exposing your breasts to the cam.}
Consistency of record is the foundation for all sound intelligence, after all.
Though, I'd watch this when you're alone. Need-to-know basis.
Maul:
Received at 0900 local.
Your warning was heeded. I am pleased to see your form restored.
This particular intelligence is highly classified. If anyone else ever sees it, I shall remove their eyes. While there is little action that I can take from four systems away, I will file it away for further review later tonight.
Clear your schedule. We are not finished discussing this.
You:
Schedule cleared, My Lord :)
You:
Status Report, morning: I slept exceptionally well last night. Pain at a 2. PT says I presented particularly relaxed this morning, and to continue with whatever I am doing outside of our sessions. I named your orders as the culprit ;)
Breakfast is pending. Someone kept me up rather late last night, and he knows who he is.
Maul:
Received at 2300 local.
Sleep quality is noted with satisfaction. I will accept partial credit, because your obedience deserves acknowledgement as well.
Regarding the late call: the matter under review was, as suspected, of the highest classification, and required thorough discussion. I consider the review a success, and you communicated similar satisfaction. Certain findings warrant an urgent follow-up in person, which will be addressed immediately upon my arrival.
The final inspection of the facility has been completed, and we will make the jump in two hours. The transit time is fourteen hours.
Eat full meals today. You will need your full strength once I return.
You:
{MMS attachment. You sit at the lip of the viewport in Maul's robe, holding a cup of caf and smiling softly at the cam}
One for the road. Fly safe. Come home to me, no shenanigans.
Maul:
We have made the jump.
The final image is saved with the others. It is the best of them. The prior transmissions meant to test my composure will be revisited often, but this one I will keep in my personal effects.
You once asked why I write these. I gave you the tactical answer, which is the partial truth. The rest is this: much of my life has been erased, or else forgotten. You are something I will archive. You cannot be taken from me. So, for your records, and mine:
Fourteen hours, my love. Try not to break anything else before I return.
"We played with this idea of, is she fully seeing through her own eyes what's happening and doesn't feel in control, or if it's kind of like teleportation where every time that she pops back in, it's from the moment that she popped back in before, which is why whenever she's in the house, she comes out and she's like, 'Wait, where am I?’ So we played with both of them, and now that I've watched the film back, I think that she does both. I think that in the very beginning, whenever she doesn't understand what's going on, she's teleporting, and once she realizes what's going on, Nikki’s a fighter, and so her urge to fight the wish just gets bigger and bigger and bigger, and that’s why she has the grief at the end, because she's watched it happen. She's felt it. She has to deal with it. It wasn't her fault. Her life has completely changed. And she just lets it all go." — Inde Navarrette (x)
It's important to note that Chekhov's Gun was not originally about foreshadowing, but a piece of advice to playwrights about how every element in a play should have narrative relevance. The corollary to Chekhov's Gun is that if a gun mounted on the wall in act 1 is never used at all in the entirety of the play, then it should be omitted from the play entirely.
Very funny example of writing advice that is very specific to its medium getting overapplied outside its scope. Can you imagine how awful set design would be if people tried to apply this to movies. 60 minute post credits scene in the Matrix where Neo has to fire every gun that appears in the "lots of guns" scene
stop fucking calling it csam if it isnt literally footage of real life abuse. regardless of what disgusts or discomforts you, what you think should and shouldnt exist, it causes nothing but harm to misuse "csam" for drawings/otherwise fake images
"you can be 15 years old and also a terrible person" teenagers do stupid shit all the time, adults do stupid shit all the time, what matters is that you learn about that and that you don't let that define you. you are figuring out yourself and you never really stop doing that.
this is a thing i saw on tiktok and it's been bothering me forever and ever. okay yeah you took bad decisions/hurted people/etc. but that doesn't mean that you're destinated to hurt people or to be a bad person forever and ever. perhaps at the moment you thought what you were doing was good. perhaps you were trying to protect yourself. perhaps you just didn't know any better. perhaps you thought that it wouldn't be that bad. whatever thing you've might've done on the past doesn't define you in any sort of way. you are a human being and you will do a lot of mistakes until you die. putting yourself down won't help on anything. others putting you down doesn't mean anything. don't let your mistakes be something that defines you, but let them be a reminder that you're still here and that you can grow as a person.
I'm surprised the knight kink crowd hasn't picked up on the fact that historical knights had a habit of capturing each other for ransom. What do you mean you don't see the sexual tension in rivals seeking each other out in battle or through ambush, deliberately avoiding harming their target so they may be taken back to the attacker's castle, either held as a prisoner or as a honored "guest" as the case may be, until they are redeemed by their friends and allies?
Shout out to all the Black ppl that can no longer participate directly in the fandom they love because of the stresses of racism 👍🏾 you contain multitudes of value and I'm sorry that the color of your skin and the power of your voice makes people not want to acknowledge that.
How'd I cut back on caffeine? The usual. Diet, discipline. One thing that helped a lot was that I harnessed the void. I tapped into the little incipient void which sits at the heart of every thinking animal, and I fed it. I hatefully nurtured it with every malicious thought, every unkind impulse, every knee-jerk reaction best discarded, and it gorged on these things it metastasized. It swelled past the confines of my heart and fought for space with with my stomach, my liver, my intestines, winning handily, subsuming each in turn, until I was little more than a man-shaped howling wrathful abyss sheathed in taut, paper-thin human hide, wandering through this fallen world in anticipation of whatever fleeting offense finally catalyzes my inevitable rupture and detonation. And now I'm down to two, maybe three cups a day
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