Additional Tags: Past Character Death, Time Travel, First Time, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Seduction, Aphrodisiacs, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sexual Inexperience, Vaginal Sex, Manipulation
Words: 2,620
Collections: May The Fourth Be With You Fanwork Exchange 2023
Summary:
Tfw your reluctant criminal boyfriend gets captured and executed by the empire thus activating a previously unknown ride-or-die protocol that has you going back in time to trick his younger self into bed with you so you can wreck the empire's plans together and also make sure that boyfriend never dies in the first place. Classic.
I stumbled upon this fic by @thereverendnoahfenceiiiesq and it doesn‘t really let me go. Might do some really cool artsy atmospheric illustration inspired by it someday, but until then, have this.
Hi! For the prompts, can I ask for basorexia + MaulRex?
hiiiii
1200w, rating t, maulrex, pre-relationship, post the clone wars. wound tending, touch starved maul.
The captain comes back to the ship before he should, and Maul curses under his breath, puts his robe back on and sits on the cockpit, nonchalantly, trying to ignore the pain the sears through his side.
The naming (captain) started as sarcasm and at some point grew into something else, something true and, if Maul is not very careful, almost endearing.
Sometimes, like tonight, Maul wants to ask him why. The other clones, the ones that they have encountered through the galaxy, made everything in their hands to make him stay with them, but the captain walked away every time. The first time it happened, Maul expected him to leave, and almost had felt relief, more than anything else. They had both been extremely convenient to one another, they had made it out alive thanks to each other, and now it was time for Maul to be on his own, as he had always been.
Rex looked at him, and said, “Maul?”, as if he had any power in that decision. And Maul didn’t say anything, he just turned around and went back to the ship and the captain—the captain followed, and he did the same every fucking time.
Maul keeps waiting for the betrayal and Rex keeps proving him wrong.
The captain is useful. For someone that in all his life (mind you, not many years) hadn’t seen a credit to his name and ninety percent of his interactions were with his brothers, he is insanely good at navigating social situations, which usually Maul abhors. He doesn’t try, like the captain, Maul just goes in and his force presence and obvious predilection for violence precedes him, and fear does miracles. But sometimes—sometimes— the captain words string cords that he’d never be able to reach.
He deals with people. He makes sure they have food and alcohol on the ship beyond his, for the people that work with them sometimes. Maul has forgotten about what it was like to feel hunger but sometimes, when he looks at him, he is almost able to remember.
When he enters the cockpit, he immediately frowns.
Maul talks before he can. “You’re early. That’s not always good.”
He sighs and runs his hand over his hair, little droplets falling from it. “Didn’t go well. Had to shoot him.”
Maul shrugs. “We’ll receive the credits anyway.”
“Not the point.”
The captain is very weird about killing people. They got into an argument, early in their days sharing a space, because Maul doesn’t understand what’s the difference between killing people in the war and killing people for money. In fact, he feels like the second one is cleaner, more honest.
But Rex prefers to take them alive, and because that usually gives more credits, Maul agrees with his methods.
Then Rex looks at him. “What’s wrong?”
Maul reaches for the force to ignore an especially hard pang into his remaining back ribs. Mother Talzin gave him life, but it was a karking painful one.
“Nothing,” Maul lies, and Rex scoffs, but he gets closer when the next movement makes him breathe hard, the captain’s hand reaching over his arm.
“Is it the side again? ” he asks, and Maul questions himself because when did this happen, when had he allowed the captain to know him like that, to be able to see through him that easily.
He snaps and shakes the captain’s hand with more strength than probably was necessary.
“I said it’s nothing, kark.”
The captain stares at him for a second, his hand still between them both and then turns around and leaves him there, wallowing in his own pain.
Good.
The captain comes back. Maul might kill him, this time around. He’s carrying the bacta and some gauzes. “Let me see,” he says, and Maul can feel the fever starting to break, and he feels like his endurance is not like it was years ago. The time in Lotho Minor took a toll on his body and he’s starting to pay the price.
He begrudgingly takes out his robe and raises his arm. The place where his meat is glued, or, better said, fussed to the metal is filled with ulcers and open wounds. It shouldn’t be this bad but of course he has been in pain for days—there are little rivulets of angry red in the line that separates it, white spots,
The captain doesn’t comment on it, not even a frustrated sigh, and that—the quiet resignation, the knowledge that pity will make Maul push him again from his side— is what makes Maul actually relax.
With an undeserving care, Rex cleans the pus and then starts applying the bacta. It would be easier with a patch, and Maul wouldn’t need to feel the chill on the captain’s fingertips against his skin. White spots on his view bloom when he’s trying to apply it on a specially difficult spot, and the captain looks at him from below, sees him waver, and starts talking.
“You know, once I got hurt in my down time. Don’t look at me like that, we actually had downtime, it was not that bad. Anyway, it was with a vibroblade, so I didn’t say anything. We were—a lot then. New batches were appearing every day and they trusted us to say if there was an issue. After a while, as you can imagine, the burn got infected, and it got bad. So bad that I was afraid to go to the actual medic, because maybe they felt like I was—unsuited for the soldier life,” he laughs at himself, looks up for a second. “And you know, if it was not possible to cure you, they would, well. You can imagine.”
Recondition. Decommission. Death, in any case.
And Maul is supposed to be the cruel one.
“How did you—”
“My brothers figured it out and helped me get some black market bacta, which was not as good as the kaminoans’ but it was enough to heal without almost scarring.
He finishes with the wounds and, still on his knees, he stretches the shirt from his neck until Maul can see it on the way to the shoulder, something almost faded but knotty to the touch. Touch. His fingers are on it, without receiving previous order from his brain, and are grazing over it. He drops down a little more, and then he realizes and stops himself, looks at Rex, who’s just right there, who’s looking at him intently.
Maul hasn’t been touched in a long time nor has returned the touch in an even longer time. He had forgotten about this—a different type of desire, to ruin, to be ruined. His breath is coming shallow and noisy; and, when the captain swallows, it feels like it can be heard through the galaxy, it’s so loud.
Maul blinks once, twice, very slowly, and holds onto the feeling that if he gets this, if he lets his desire run wild here, he will not be empowered, but stripped of all control, and so he says, “Captain,” and curses himself inside his mind because he sounds—karked. “I think I’m good.”
As if an invisible hold has been broken, Rex leaves his space in a second and is almost out of earshot when Maul hears a trembling sigh leaving him.
Maul watches the captain’s back until, finally, the door to the cockpit slides close.
I finally finished this piece, and right on time for @maulrexweek! This is for the alternative prompt Make your enemies feel cooperative and this is part of the Margarita!Rex verse, where Maul got his bottom half back thanks to creepy Nightsister magic.
that's a really good question. i think maul has no idea of how to deal with himself when he's upset about something, but that means he's slightly better at comforting someone else. especially when that someone else is rex. i think he'd be very weird, blunt and awkward about it but also very--honest? and i think once rex realises that's what maul is doing he appreciates it very much. i think his approach is firmly on the "acts of service" side of the thing. "who made you sad and how do you want them to die" etc
lbr it might be harder for rex: i think maul doesn't really get the idea of being comforted by anyone--i don't want this post to get too long, but i think at first any and all attempts might make things worse.
afterwards i think he just wants someone to just let him be and rant and sit with him/on him.
Against all odds, Ahsoka woke up.
Her eyes opened to a low ceiling, dark blue and painted with stars. She stared up at it. She was hazy and half-awake at best, but she was sure it was a place she had never been before. The white, five-pointed stars with their visible brush strokes seemed to wheel over her as if they truly were the stars of the night sky.
She watched them roll oceanically for what could have been hours, and at last the realization came to her that she had been heavily drugged. The thought didn’t alarm her. That could have been a side effect - but she didn’t think so. She felt safe. The Force was too weak for her to call it insight, so instinct would have to do.
The Toolmaker's Arsenal
Chapter: 1/?
Rating: M
Category: F/F, M/M
Fandoms: Star Wars, The Mandalorian, Star Wars: The Clone Wars
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano/The Armorer, Maul/Rex
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Betrayed by her former master, Ahsoka finds herself in the care of a secretive covert of Mandalorians while she recovers from her injuries. With Captain Rex by her side, the only friend she has left, Ahsoka must find a way to survive everything the rise of the Empire has taken from her.
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I'm FINALLY writing Armorsoka again guys!!!! This is the first chapter of a longfic that I've been trying to figure out since I posted Ka'rta Ve'vut, and finally I've found the vibe and it's ROLLING! Really, really looking forward to updating this one. IT'S LESBIAN HOURS LET'S GO
