#mobitine

[xiamei-sami]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Satine Kryze & Darth Maul, Satine Kryze/Obi-Wan Kenobi

This gets my vote for most creative Maul fic of the year. 

Maul and Satine working together to take down Bo Katan for the sake of Mandalore, I love it. Great writing and great idea, will be watching this one very closely.

[authorjcalamy]

How they met

A brief nod to @sunsetofdoom and their mobitine-verse.

I will be doing more, but this is a nice little blurb. 

One thing I became aware of is how STUPID star wars names are. Like if I was writing this myself and said I had an OC names “Satine” the eyerolling would be violent.

Satine decided that if she was going to die, it wouldn’t be crouching behind this bulkhead, cowering like an animal. Pacifism be damned. She drew her blaster and took a deep breath.

I am a Duchess of Mandalore, Prime Minister of the greatest warrior culture the galaxy has ever seen. I am not going to die on my knees!

She pushed herself up, forcing her shaking knees to action as she sprinted across the short hallway towards the rear of the bridge. Her brief dash was met with a hail of blaster fire, erupting from the front of the bridge where the pirates had seized control.

Satine was close to the lift, but not close enough. She felt the crump of a round smacking into the back of her armor and stumbled, her hand reaching for the lift key. Another round smacked her helmet and spun her around. She staggered backwards squeezing off a dozen rounds. But her feet tangled and she started to fall.

The lift opened and her momentum carried her right through the doors, still falling backwards. But instead of falling she was caught by strong arms under her back. A familiar face looked grimly down at her. Obiwan. Here? How? The visuals in her helmet were fading in and out.

 Satine drew breath to shout a warning when a black shape flew over them both, red light blaring at the edges of her visor. She struggled up in time to see another man running towards the front of the bridge, the hum of a light saber audible even under the hail of blaster fire that exploded in their direction.

“Obiwan” she said, yanking at her helmet clasps. “Help me” She wanted to see what was happening.

“Don’t worry” Obiwan said, pulling the helmet off with gentle hands, at odds with the chaos erupting across the bridge. “Maul will handle them.”

Satine forced herself up in time to see the other advance on the pirates. His saber staff batted the blaster bolts aside contemptuously as he stalked forward. Satine knew for a fact that there was at least twelve of the pirates on the bridge but to the man in black they were nothing. She watched with a kind of horrified fascination as he leapt and spun and dispatched fighter after fighter, the motions of his blades fluid and precise. He appeared in and out of the smoke and chaos, flinging pirates with the Force, beating them with his fists and feet, and wielding his staff with a kind of careless grace that made her inner Mandalore hum in appreciation. Maul? Was that his name? Even Force null as she was Satine could feel the power radiating from the warrior. It was like the pressure change before a storm.

 In less time than it took for Obiwan to pull her to standing it was done. In the sudden silence across the bridge Satine could hear her own harsh breathing. She clung to Obiwan’s arm, watching closely as the other man turned off his saber and clipped it to his belt in one smooth motion. As he walked back towards the pair, the flashes of sparks from the blown comms deck and control panels showed a terrifying face, black and red under a crown of horns. A Zabrak, then, and a Nightbrother no less. His eyes were blazing gold, reflecting back the dim light like a cat’s.

Obiwan stepped to the side as Maul came up to them.

“Maul, this is the Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore. Satine, this is Maul. He is… my friend. And more. Much more.” Satine had never heard Obiwan use this tone. Proud and fearful all at once. The word more had come out in a hoarse rasp that caught her attention right away.

“Thank you Maul.” she said, holding out a hand to the Zabrak. He blinked at her hand and glanced at Obiwan who gave him a tiny nod. Maul took her hand and executed a rather elegant bow, bringing her knuckles to his lips briefly. It was Inner Core high society manners to a T, completely at odds with the smoke and blood and crackling conduits around them.

“Satine, my dearest,” Obiwan continued “We need your help.”

[sunsetofdoom]

Those prompts are so good. How about "Can I kiss you?" for the maul/satine third of Mobitine?

Oh hello, prompt that I haven’t touched in nearly a year. With COD finished I finally have time to come back to Mobitine goodness.

@the-son-of-dathomir @smarsupial @panthermouth @kinky-space-nerd I know all you dorks want this sweet, sweet Mobitine content. I missed my spiky kinky babies.

Domme drop goodness inside- discussions of kink stuff, but nothing on the metaphorical screen.

-

Maul sat the glass of water down next to the dingy couch in the quiet room, folding himself gracefully to the floor. He would be at Satine’s feet, if she didn’t have them tucked up beneath her.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, his voice steady.

Mired in her own misery, Satine eyed him. He was calm in the way that meant he was not calm at all, holding himself tightly against his own fear. Her brave boy.

“You may not.” She tried to sound stern, but the hint of a sob in her voice didn’t help. It kept flashing in front of her vision, the bright red of Obi-Wan’s skin, the breakage, the blood- “Is he...” She let it hang, not sure she could keep her voice together.

“I took care of him.” Maul blinked at her, slow and reassuring. “Beckah is looking after him, he has a mug of behot tea, but he worries for you.”

“It’s not me he should worry about.” She muttered. “I- I could have-” Stuttering, she swallowed, trying to keep her lower lip from trembling. She wasn’t a girl anymore, and could not afford hysterics in public.

“You did not.”

“But I could have.” Countering, she unfolded herself a bit to shake her finger at him- and then pulled her hand back, clenching her fist tight enough that her nails dug into her skin. That anger. That was how she’d done this. The anger that made its home under her skin and in her belly, that made her lose control.

“And yet.” Maul said, still too calm. He reached a hand out, catching her fist, and his claws- carefully capped- nestled underneath her fingertips to unfurl her open hand.

Leaning forward, she let him. There were still black marks on her palm from the cane, the damn cane that she hadn’t checked properly, that she could have seriously hurt Obi-Wan with. Maul’s fingertips traced over the marks lightly, rubbing them clean. His golden eyes lowered, he rubbed patterns into the heel of her hand, the base of her thumb. 

Her first thought was to stay upright, to pull away. To make herself an island. Allowing Maul to have her hand felt like a violation, like he was putting himself in danger just touching her. Like she was poison.

She breathed. Tried to remember times when Maul and Obi-Wan flinched away, not because they were afraid of her, but because they were afraid of being shown care, of being vulnerable. How deeply she’d known that the true solution was always to lean in closer.

Summoning what felt like all of her courage, she adjusted her posture and curled up on her side, draping her arm out to reach Maul, letting him have her hand. Satine did not often feel like a bomb waiting to go off, but here she was. Only a matter of time away from hurting the men she loved.

“We-” Maul started, his voice less steady. He cleared his throat, the wobble of emotion still there. “You must know that- we want this. This is what we want, what we need, from you. If you did not want to hurt us, then- our wanting you to hurt us would feel selfish. We would feel guilty for what we need, if you did not wish for it as well.”

“I still- I still feel dangerous.” Satine admitted, her voice small. “I still feel like I’m nothing but a soldier, inflicting harm for no reason but nebulous honor that means nothing to any but my own ego.”

Bringing his other hand up, Maul folded her thin palm between his own calloused hands, and nestled his cheek against them.

“I feel like a monster.” She had to whisper it, the fear too close to her heart. “I want things- too much. Sometimes so much that I feel I may burst with it.”

“Yes.” Was all Maul said, and she was grateful for his brievity, so much so that tears welled up in her eyes.

The benefits of having Force-sensitive lovers was that they knew what she was thinking- and adored her, regardless. 

He started and stopped a few times in his quest for his next sentence, but Satine didn’t mind waiting. She evened her breathing, and waited for Maul to find words that he hadn’t been raised with.

“This.” He settled on his beginning, and took a hand away from holding hers, to touch the golden chain around his neck. His collar, a necklace that he wore every day, even to sleep. “I- It is so much to me. Physical possessions ought to have no meaning.”

“Yet they do.” Satine murmured. Her boys both knew her stance on the no-possessions doctrines of their respective Orders, had heard her shouting about it many times.

“But- I-” He drew her hand up to his mouth, resting her fingers against his lips. His breath was warm on her cold skin. “The only thing that means more, is my lightsaber. Which is my- my whole self, my own soul.”

Satine sniffled. She remembered picking out the necklace herself, selecting the design, the clasp. The way the thick herringbone design flowed like water. She’d expected that it would be like Obi-Wan’s leather collar- something for play, something for fun. To put on when she took him to bed and showed him how much she wanted him.

Instead, he wore it every day. Slept with a hand around it, curled like a question mark, his thumb rubbing it smooth when he showed nerves. And it meant- almost as much as his weapon. Tears fell from her eyes, but she didn’t notice.

“Because it is you.” Maul continued, his voice shaky and small. “It is- love, and possession, and care. And, yes, pain. Which I need. And you provide.”

A whimpering sound tore its way out of Satine’s throat as she clutched his hand tighter. “Oh, cyar’ika.”

“Monstrous as you may feel.” Maul said with an air of finality, his voice giving out lighter and lighter. “When- You-” His hand starting to tremble, he took a deep breath and stilled it, his eyes closing. “I feel safe.” He said in a near whisper.

Starting to cry in earnest, Satine pulled herself shakily off the couch and rushed forward, crashing close to Maul until he opened his arms and pulled her close, pulled her up as he stood. Luckily his legs were strong, because hers were not, threatening to give out on her. Her wet face dropped down against his shoulder.

“Others need the aftercare room.” He said softly, stroking her back. “We might do this at home.”

“We might do.” She said, wetly. “Where’s Obi?”

“Behind the bar. Safe. With Beckah.” Maul rested his lips against her cheek. “I’ll signal a cab on our way out. And when we get home, he and I can wash your hair and- care for you.”

Nodding into his shoulder, Satine laughed through her tears. She felt ridiculous, but knew there was nothing for it. With some of the miserable thoughts brushed away, she had the clarity to realize how much of this was simple brain chemistry, a drop after an intense scene. “I should see to Obi.”

“He is taken care of. I bandaged him, reassured him. He will need physical contact, but- we are both aware of the procedure at this point.” Maul’s arms tightened around her. “You are not to over-exert yourself tonight.”

She poked him, gently, in the bicep. “Who’s giving the orders around here, anyways?”

“The one who has had no mental breakdowns tonight.” Maul answered, his voice dry. She barked a laugh, and drew back.

His gaze was soft, his lips pursed as though he were about to worry at them with his teeth. Once again, he blinked at her, slow and deliberate. She blinked in return.

“May I...” He started. His gaze flickered to her lips, his expression longing. She didn’t know how she’d ever seen his markings as concealing; his face read to her so easily now, his feelings mapped out in vivid red-and-black.

Leaning in, she kissed him. She was covered in tears and her nose was running, and Maul smelled of sweat and blood, but it was good. It was safe, and home.

[the-son-of-dathomir]

MERRY SHITSCRAM

I tried my best- this is some Obimaul (with Obitine hints) tattoo parlor AU! I hope you enjoy it dearest @panthermouth  (also @sunsetofdoom bc well.. mobitine ahaha)

“You seeing this?” Maul gestured casually out the shop’s front window. He disguised the movement as a stretch, getting up from his desk and and moving to top off his mug of caf at the small bar.

Savage glanced over his shoulder discretely, setting down the gun he was cleaning.

“Jumpy guy on the corner?” He asked and then added, “get me one.”

Maul grunted, pulling a new mug off the shelf above the caf bar.

“He’s been hovering there for an hour,” Maul went on, fixing the second drink, “D’you think he’s ever gonna work up the nerve?”

Savage shrugged, returning to his equipment.

“He probably saw you glaring at him and got spooked. You’re not exactly easy on the eyes.”

Maul barked a laugh, sharp teeth splitting a grin on his severe tattooed face.

“Not exactly easy on the skin either. I hope he’s not expecting pain suppressants.”

Maul walked back across the shop and put the new drink down the on table where Savage workered, ink stained towels littered along the surface while he cleaned.

Savage glanced up, then over Maul’s shoulder and out the front window.

“Don’t look now, but I think he’s finally coming in.”

Maul rolled his eyes and said, “about time.”

He turned when the front door chimed.

Standing in their shop was a man not much older than the two zabrak brothers. Cropped red hair, neat and professional, wearing some kind of uniform Maul couldn’t place. Maybe a school or political office- it was bland and official whatever it was.

“Hello,” he started quickly, voice clipped and heavily accented. A Coruscant native then, and upper level by the sound of it. “I don’t have an appointment…”

Maul leaned over the front counter.

“Do we look busy?”

The man glanced about the empty shop.

“Um, no- I just”

Maul smiled and waved his hand to forestall any more small talk.

“Just messing with you- what are you looking to get?”

The young man fumbled through his pockets for a moment, until he pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of paper. He walk up to the desk and handed it to Maul.

Maul took a brief glance at the simple jagged shapes.

“Mando’a? Don’t see that very often…” he squinted at the sheet, “I don’t recognize this- Savage?” Maul held the paper up for his brother to see.

“No idea,” Savage answered, hardly looking up.

“You get this from a reliable source? I’d hate to see you the butt of joke…”

The man shook his head seriously.

“A very reliable source. She wrote that herself.” He gestured to the paper Maul held.

Maul raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not her name is it? We don’t do that-”

“No, no,” the man cut in, blushing a little, “nothing that… obvious.”

Maul wasn’t entirely convinced, but shrugged.

“It’s your skin. Got ID?”

The man seemed to hesitate again. But finally reached into a pocket and pulled out a small card.

Maul took it and had to hide his surprise.

It was a pilot’s license- but not for mere civilian crafts. This was a military issue permit… but other than telling Maul that the Man’s name was Obi-Wan Kenobi, 25 standard years old and certified to fly a ship that could raze the surface of Coruscant itself, he could glean no other information.

“Normally we like to see birth certificates…” Maul said skeptically. The man fidgeted.

“I- don’t have access to that…”

Maul called Savage over with a wave, still studying the card like it might be a fake. He was sure it wasn’t, government permits were nearly impossible to forge.

Savage wandered over and glanced around his shoulder. He stiffened almost imperceptibly when he read the card.

“Looks legit,” was all he said out loud. But a quick shared glance and Maul knew his brother was just as curious.

“Alright,” Maul finally handed the card back. The man seemed relieved. “ Step into my office, Obi-Wan.”

Maul ushered their new client around the front desk and into the back where a few privacy curtains hung between the tattoo chairs.

“I didn’t catch your name?” Obi-Wan said as he scooted on to the raised chair.

“Maul,” he gestured over his shoulder “my brother, Savage.”

“You own this shop?” Obi-Wan said curiously, making conversation to distract from his nerves.

“Five years now, ever since we got off Dathomir.” Maul distracted himself fishing gloves from the nearby drawer. He didn’t like small talk- but it was the rare client who just sat down and shut up. “Tattooing is a bit of a Dathomirian tradition. The only skill we really had- well… only legal skill.”

Normally that line got a rise out of clients, Obi-Wan only smiled thinly.

Maul had hoped revealing some of his story might have opened the other up a bit. But Obi-Wan had gone quiet.

Maul worked quickly to make the stencil and then returned to the chair where Obi-Wan sat.

“So where’s this going?” Maul asked.

“I want it discrete so-” Obi-Wan made a gesture towards his ribs.

Maul cocked his head.

“You ever had a tattoo before?”

Obi-Wan shook his head and started to say, “if it’s about the pain I assure you-”

But Maul spoke over him.

“You’ll pass out,” he said flatly. “You will cry and pass out. No. Pick another spot.”

For the first time, Obi-Wan didn’t seem hesitant.

“It’s important to me that it’s there. I can take the pain.”

Maul caught Savage’s incredulous look as his brother walked by. Obi-Wan wasn’t the first client to come in insisting on a placement they couldn’t handle.

But something in the man’s words rang true to Maul.

Even though Maul had not yet agreed, Obi-Wan pulled off his tunic.

And though Maul’s expression did not change, he was surprised to see the fine spider webs of scarring on the other’s chest. Faint and light from bacta, but there nonetheless. Maul looked at the marks for a moment longer.

“Alright,” he finally said, “but if you start feeling cold or sick you tell me. I don’t want you passing out in my chair.”

“Understood.”

———–

With the stencil placed, Maul didn’t waste time starting.

The Mando’a script with thick and dark, so while the design wasn’t terribly complicated, it was going to take several passes with the needles to get the pure smooth black the brothers specialized in.

Under his hands, Maul could feel the other man’s slow and steady breathing- and a remarkably even heartbeat.

Even as the needles passed over the thin flesh above raised ribs, Obi-Wan hardly flinched.

Maul couldn’t help but feel his curiosity pique.

“So what’s it say?” Maul asked once the delicate outlines were done and he paused to change the size of his needle.

He could sense Obi-Wan was reluctant to answer.

“It doesn’t translate well to basic,” he evaded.

“Try me.” Maul lined up the new needle against his skin.

“Well… literally you could read it as ‘valuable thing’ but… I suppose it’s a bit more like ‘treasured’”

“Hhmm,” was all Maul said, his focus returned to his work, then added on impulse “First marks are always special- she has quite the honor of claiming you.”

Obi-Wan’s flush was hard to hide shirtless and Maul so close.

“You use that chat up line on all your first time clients?”

Maul laughed and dabbed away the excess blood and ink.

“No, but Mando and Dathomirian culture has some overlap. I’m surprised she didn’t carve this into you herself.”

“Trust me- she tried.”

Maul worked in silence for a while more, occasionally Savage peered over his shoulder and offered a soft grunt of approval.

Despite Obi-Wan’s initial fortitude, as the time went on the skin grew raw and he began to make small pained noises when Maul would wipe across the tattoo. The sting of the cleaner and cloth lighting up the abused flesh.

Maul gave him a toothy grin.

“I’m starting to see the appeal.”

“Sorry?” Obi-Wan ask, a little breathless.

Maul only laughed.

“Nothing. She has good taste- that’s all.”

A few more minutes of swift work, and Maul had finished. And just in time, the man in his chair looked- well looked like a bit of a wreck. It was a good look on him, spent and breathing hard against the leather chair back. Ink stains and blood still smeared across his ribs.  

Savage elbowed him as he moved to help tape up the new tattoo.

“Focus, brother.”

Maul huffed, only pretending to be offended.

In a few moments the new tattoo was cleaned, taped and Obi-Wan had put his shirt back on. Maul waited at the front desk to cash him out.

Obi-Wan fumbled giving him the credits, his new tattoo obviously paining him.  

Maul tossed a couple to Savage who caught them. Obi-Wan watched the exchange bemused.

“I bet him ten credits you would cry.” Maul shrugged. “Next time maybe?”

Obi-Wan laughed and Maul couldn’t help returning a small grin.

“Maybe,” he agreed.

[the-son-of-dathomir]

And someday if you feel like working on something funny, how about #13 for Obitine/obimaul to mobitine (“i’m not saying i want a threesome- but i wouldn’t be opposed to it.")

Dear lord am I late answering this or what.

Without further ado, here was my stab at these three finally arriving at the brilliant idea of having a threesome. Enjoy!

Satine made an impatient noise through her nose.

“Obi-Wan, dearest-” she unsuccessfully attempted to suppress her irritation, “I can feel that the back plate isn’t secured properly- if you don’t know what you’re doing you should just-”

“I almost have it!” Obi-Wan said, the sound of another armor plate clanging to the ground somewhat undermining his statement.  

This had been going on near an hour at least. Satine had intended to travel with some anonymity to a highly politicised peace conference- new security alerts were coming in almost hourly and extra precaution was necessary. She’d be journeying in unmarked Mandalorian armor with a civilian shuttle, to those unfamiliar with Mandalorian culture she would be near invisible

However, putting on the armor was proving more difficult than anticipated. It had not been custom made, and was instead a generic fit with many adjustable straps. The fitting of the armor required at least one extra pair of hands to hold and position the plates while tightening the straps. Any of her guards could have had her fitted in no time- but Obi-Wan’s offer to help intrigued her. At the time it sounded intimate, and she was leaving for the week. She could let her lover do this for her.

But that was an hour ago, before Satine discovered the entirety of Obi-Wan’s experience with armor was the occasional leather bracer or pauldron. Jedi had the Force to protect them, often going into battle completely unprotected. So, while Obi-Wan had been more than helpful on the occasions her dress robes needed specific ties and folds- letting him help with the armor was… a mistake. 

At a nearby table in her room, Maul sat studiously disassembling and cleaning the components to the blasters she would be carrying- to complete the disguise of course. She had no intention of using these blasters…

The weapons had come straight from the royal arsenal and were kept in pristine condition- which did nothing to dissuade Maul from his own thorough examination of every chamber and barrel.      

His occasional grunts told Satine that he was not impressed with the official maintenance standards.

His dedication was heartwarming, and the only real indication that Maul was starting to grow fond of her. He was not nearly as outwardly affectionate as Obi-Wan, and while Maul didn’t buck her gentle advances- he was slow to reciprocate them. Not for the first time, Satine worried that their triad would never reach equilibrium…

Another loud clang brought Satine back into the moment.

“It just won’t stay on!” Obi-Wan said in defense, the only thing holding the armor to Satine being his own hands.      

Satine began a biting comment, her patience finally at its end, but she stopped when Maul spoke.

“You’re not going to be able to get those vambraces on until the rerebrace is secured properly.” Maul barely looked up when he spoke, his attention still on the blaster sights he was realigning.  

“Well if you know so much- why don’t you try,” Obi-Wan said stepping away eager to remove himself from Satine’s death glare. “Clearly this is beyond me.”

Maul gave Satine a quick glance, and she nodded.

“Did you used to wear armor?” Satine asked, her interest piqued by his knowledge.

“No- I…” Maul hesitated as he moved near her. Instead of finishing his sentence, he reached out and ran a hand by her elbow- “Here,” he said then moved his hand to her lower side, “here,” finally he crouched down to place a hand around the backside of her knee, “and here. The weakest points on any Mandalorian armor- a well timed strike to any one of these areas would be a maining blow. And once you are down… it becomes easier to aim a blow at the unprotected underside of the head where the helmet doesn’t cover.”

“Maul…” Obi-Wan mumbled a gentle warning from nearby. But Satine held up a hands to stop him.

“And what would you suggest to address these weak points?” She looked down at Maul who was still crouched near her feet, already working to attach her first greave.

“Reinforced armorweave in those areas would protect against blasters- and might give you a fighting chance against a lightsaber.” Maul said after considering it a moment, his hands working the straps around her lower legs quickly and with precision.

“I’ll be sure to mention it to the royal armourer- I’ll see what he can do.” Satine smiled, catching Obi-Wan’s eye. He still hovered nearby, watching Maul do his work. There was a particular way Obi-Wan looked at Maul, and it warmed Satine’s heart.

Gently, Satine rested her hand on the top of Maul’s head. She could feel the slight shiver that ran through him at her touch, but he made no move to rebuff her.

“A little tighter on that second strap, love.” She let her fingers move small circles between his horns.

“Yes, your Grace.”

It wasn’t an unfamiliar thing to hear Maul say, but in this moment Satine could just convince herself that she heard a new edge to his words. Something playful- something more. When Satine looked to Obi-wan, his face was all the confirmation she needed. She reached out a hand and Obi-Wan brought himself back into her circle to grasp it with his own.

Once with her, Obi-Wan brought his face close to whisper something.

“We haven’t discussed- well all three of us- but I wouldn’t be opposed to it…”

Satine chuckled slightly before giving him a quick kiss on his forehead and then butting him gently away.

“If I hadn’t just got all this armor on- I would be inclined to agree with you.”     

Below her, Maul had risen higher on his knees to reach her waist and begin securing her blaster holsters. No doubt aware of their whispering, but intent to ignore it.

“Go,” Satine pushed Obi-Wan away from them, “There is a polishing cloth on the table- you should at least be able to figure out how that works.”

“Yes- of course your Grace,” Obi-Wan jokingly dramaticized as he retreated to find the cloth.

Once he was a few feet out of earshot, Satine returned her attention back to Maul. Her hand still running small patterns along the tattoos on his head. 

“Are you still alright,” she said casually, having quickly learned that Maul responded best to unemotional questions.

“Yes,” Maul paused as he attached the last belt clip, finally looking back up to find her eyes. They stayed still like that for a moment until Maul found his words again. “I would… like to stay like this.”

“Well,” Satine smiled warmly, “I can certainly make arrangements for that.”

As always if you like it, be sure to yell at @sunsetofdoom as well for making Mobitine verse possible! 

[the-son-of-dathomir]

So, if you haven’t heard of @sunsetofdoom ‘s fabulous Mobitine verse, it’s a lovely little world where Maul, Obi-Wan and Satine live in domestic BDSM bliss, and I’ve got my grubby little hands on it to make it a lot angsty-er. So what follows is Maul having a serious panic attack and crawling into their bedroom for some comfort. Enjoy and be sure to tell Sunset how amazing this OT3 is, they deserve all the credit for making this happen at all.   

Satine sat bolt upright in her bed. The sudden unexpected burst of Force energy in her mind still buzzing. With a searching hand she felt for Obi-Wan still asleep at her side. He was not the one who had woken her… she looked around the dimly lit room. She wasn’t very in tune with the Force, but she thought she could feel Maul’s signature. Why he had chosen to wake her like this, she wasn’t sure. But her skin prickled with tension, alert for some intruder or assassin.

She shifted slowly to the end of the bed, still scanning the room with her eyes. Finally she picked out Maul in the shadow of her doorway, his form small and tight, like he was crouching or kneeling.

“Maul,” she whispered, voice hoarse from sleep, “Love, what is it? Is something wrong?” Some of Satine’s panic had eased, if they were under attack Maul would be at her side, blade in hand. Whatever was wrong, it wasn’t something that a weapon could fix.

She peered into the darkness, her eyes adjusting slowly to the gloom. Maul was kneeling on the threshold, his hands balled tightly on his knees, his head down, and something she couldn’t make out hanging from his mouth.

How long had he been there?

Maul had been with her and Obi-Wan the previous evening. Though both her and Obi-Wan were tired from a long day of diplomatic talks at the Embassy. There had been kissing and cuddling, but Obi-Wan had drifted off and Satine was soon to follow. It wasn’t wholly unusual for Maul to slip away after the intimacy had ended. He was nocturnal by nature and paranoid by habit. From what Satine could gather, he often exhausted himself by patrolling the perimeter until early morning, only coming back to bed for the last few hours of darkness.

But he rarely woke her, and never like this.      

“Maul,” she said again, “Come here, please.” But even her gentlest words made him flinch. A new sort of panic started to raise in Satine’s chest- he wouldn’t even look at her. By now she had pulled herself all the way to the edge of the bed, sitting up and allowing her legs hanging off the side. She wanted to go to him, but worried even that advance would be seen as too aggressive. He had to come to her, had to trust her enough to come.   

“Dear one,” she kept her voice low and soft. She was no Jedi, but she willed all their fondest memories into her voice. “Would you like to show me what’s in your mouth?”

For the first time Maul glanced up to her, barely meeting her eyes before he looked away. But his head was up now, more alert than before.

Satine held out her hand, beckoning Maul to show her what ever it was he had brought.

They stayed like that for several long moments. Satine sitting as still as she could, keeping her demeanor as relaxed as possible, despite the fear that was welling inside her stomach. She even considered trying to wake Obi-Wan, but one more person involved in this very fragile dance might only make things worse. Besides, Maul had come to her- she wouldn’t betray that trust.

Finally, Maul crept forwards. Crouched like he was hunting, using his hands and his elbows to move as much as his feet. He closed the distance and collapsed back down to his knees at her feet.

Satine wasn’t surprised to see that the object in his mouth was the decorative collar she had gifted him. It sparkled even in her room’s dim lighting, the golden metal so soft and fine it may as well have been made of silk.     

In her open palm, Maul deposited the leash and collar, still avoiding her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, forcing casualness into her voice. “Do you want me help you put this on?”

An almost imperceptible nod.

Satine relaxed a little. At least this she understood about Maul. That the comfort the collar brought him was what a wedding ring or insignia badge might do for another being. A sense of connection, of belonging- a bond made manifest. And in a very literal sense, a way for Maul to hand the reigns to her. To give up control and simply trust that she would guide him. A tactile reminder that she could be his harbour in the storm- the rock that he could always swim to.

“Can you look at me?” Satine undid the clasp on the collar, unwinding it and preparing to place it on Maul. She was rewarded when Maul did look up, bearing his neck to give her easy access while she worked.

Satine moved slowly, conscious of how she moved and where her hands went. On a good day, Maul might flinch if she so much as raised her hand too high. And right now… she had to be very careful.

“Alright love…” she mumbled, hoping her words would ease the tension as she leaned in closer to him to attach the collar. She felt him moving under her fingers as she adjusted the links and finish the clasp. Suddenly, she was aware of Maul pulling against the new restraint, trying to force the collar tighter around his neck as she closed it. But Satine was quicker, slipping four fingers under the collar before it could tighten all the way.

Absolutely not, she thought to herself. Nothing sent Maul into a panic quicker than a collar that was too tight, and she would not allow Maul to drive himself deeper into whatever episode he was already experiencing.      

A few more adjustments and Satine was satisfied that the collar was secure and at the appropriate tension. She clipped the leash to its hook at the front and sat back, letting the golden cord hand loose between them.

“Better?” Satine asked, though she hardly had to. She could see Maul taking deep shuddering breaths- as though he hadn’t been able to breath properly in hours.  His whole body relaxing, still on edge, but not the fear frozen state he had come to her in. Finally, he was able to look up at her.          

“Thank you…” His voice was shaky, but relieved.

But Satine simply hushed him.

“Come to bed,” Satine brushed the spot next to her, but followed Maul’s gaze to where Obi-Wan was currently taking up most of the bed, some how every sheet and comforter wrapped around his various splayed limbs.

Satine pushed his nearest leg out of the way, and then started to try to roll the rest of his body off to the side. She was struck by how heavy Obi-Wan was- how much he must be playing along when she would push him around. Not that she couldn’t move him of course, she was as trained a warrior as any of them. But the ease with which she could subdue her bedmate now seem suspicious in comparison to merely attempting to move his sleeping body.

“Please…” Maul said hoarsely, “don’t wake him- I’m fine…”

Satine sighed dramatically.

“I don’t think I could wake him if I tried.” She hoped the humour might lighten the mood, but Maul didn’t respond to the jest. He seemed set to spend the rest of the night kneeling at the foot of her bed.

Which Satine would not have.

Satine slipped down from the edge of her bed, reaching out a gentle hand to caress Maul’s head. He responded positively, nuzzling into her palm and brushing his body against her leg. For the first time since he had woken her, Satine felt relief.

She stooped to kiss him, allowing the connection to linger. Pulling him closer to the bed with every kiss. It took awhile, but eventually Satine had coaxed him as far as the footboard. She returned to sitting on the edge and Maul was now half pulled into the bed still following where her kisses lead.            

Finally she retreated, taking her loving touches and gentles kisses with her. Leaving Maul still just barely perched at the edge of the mattress.

“Come on,” Satine smiled, once again patting the open space on the bed near her and, with the gentlest tug, pulled on his leash.

And with that, Maul succumbed.

Satine watched him hesitate once he found his way onto the mattress, the confused look in his eyes as he examined the space he knew perfectly well. But somehow the landscape was different now, Maul unsure of his place.

Satine thought he might retreat to Obi-Wan’s side. Even in his sleep, Obi-Wan radiated warm welcoming energies, which Satine herself wanted to collapse back into. But she was surprised to see that Maul remained near her, his chosen place curled at her feet by the end of the bed.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, not wanting to disturb his already settling form.

The pur was small, and almost strangled, but it reassured Satine. Maul wouldn’t make any such noise if he wasn’t truly content.   

Sighing, Satine wrestled a blanket out of Obi-Wan’s sleeping grasp. Pulling the cover up and over herself, and making sure that at least a corner found its way over Maul’s bare shoulders.

“Goodnight, dear one.” Satine felt Maul’s body shift around her legs and feet.

__________

Obi-Wan stretched and yawned, the natural sunlight waking him. Next to him, Satine was already awake and sitting up, Maul still curled up below her. She gently stroked his horns, her touch too light and steady to wake him.

It only took one glance for Obi-Wan to fill in the pieces of what had happened.

“I’m surprised he came to you.”

Satine shot him a hard glance, but quickly Obi-Wan held his hands up in mock surrender.

“I only mean, I’m surprised he came at all. When it was just us… I couldn’t even find him sometimes. You are very special to him, Satine, he can’t always express it… but I see how much he loves you.”   

Satine smiled sadly, the words a welcome sentiment… but her thoughts were still worried.

“Has he… told you everything?” Her fingertips traced a visible scar across Maul’s temple, her meaning implicit.    

“Most of it,” Obi-Wan admited, “But not everything. There are memories he keeps hidden even from me.”

Satine nods, reassured by that knowledge.    

“Well,” Obi-Wan says, his tone lighter. “Looks like you’re going to be late to the office.” He laughs and glances to where Maul is still fast asleep across her legs.

Satine laughs as well, some of the weight she had felt lifting.

“And in that case,” Obi-Wan slides over to collapse onto Satine as well.

She huffs in mock annoyance as Obi-Wan’s head falls into her lap. But she can’t even pretend to be angry. In fact, having both her boys so close at hand, protected under her body like this, was the most peace she had felt in days. She would do anything to keep them like this, soft and warm in her embrace. Shielded from their fears and anxieties, only existing within her arms.       

[sunsetofdoom]

Hello I have a VERY IMPORTANT mobitine question: is Maul in this au smol?

Not in the way that counts ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

… Jokes aside, yeah, he’s the shortest of the three. He’s like 5'9 (not counting horns), Obi-wan’s about 5'10, and Satine is just barely under 6’ and likes to wear very tall heels.

[sunsetofdoom]

I FEEL ENCOURAGED TO ASK MORE ABOUT MOBITINE HOPE YOU WON'T REGRET IT: what's their safeword and who uses it most often (if they use it at all)?

KEEP ‘EM COMING ANON. Sorry this took longer than the last one lmao, I had to go to work.

Putting this under a cut for non-nsfw talk about sex, trauma, and healthy kink negotiation.

SO. Satine, Maul, and Obi-wan actually use the traffic light system- red for “stop immediately”, yellow for “slow down” or “lighten up”, and green for “keep going” or “increase intensity”. At any point during a scene- or “regular” sex, or even a social situation- they can grab another’s hand, whisper “color?” and if the answer is red or yellow, they’ll get removed from the situation or just talked to about what’s not quite right. They also have a few bells, for when they play with gags, and a hand signal for physical contact- if they grab onto another’s hand, shoulder, or other body part and squeeze twice, it’s a “please stop” signal. And making eye contact and blinking twice, slowly, is a sign for “all’s good, even if I’m saying something out loud that makes you think it isn’t.”

Signals are an important part of kinky (OR VANILLA TBH) relationships. Satine has A LOT of experience in her local community and she knows this stuff inside and out, to the point where it’s not awkward at all for her. Which is good, because Maul and Obi-wan are a couple of awkward turtles who were never taught the ins and outs of how consent works.

ESPECIALLY Maul. Can you imagine how well “please stop, you’re hurting me” goes over with Darth Sidious? Not well. Not well at all. Maul has a very hard time saying “no” or “stop” especially when it involves his partners, people he respects and doesn’t want to hurt. Using a safeword actually makes this easier, makes it feel like he’s sending them a signal instead of begging or showing weakness.

For weeks before she was willing to do any kind of play with Maul, Satine put a lot of time and energy into practicing safewording out- she would come up and start touching him, and his job was to say “red”, “stop”, or “safeword”, at which point she would reward him with either a kiss or food. It was a very basic, Pavlovian sort of training, but it majorly lessened his fear response when he actually did have a bad reaction mid-activity.

SO the one that play needs to be stopped for the most is Maul- he has too many triggers to count after growing up being tortured into a weapon by a sadist Sith Lord. But a lot of the time it’s not him safewording out. If he goes nonverbal or is obviously uncomfortable, Satine or Obi will drop everything to check on him. Occasionally he (or Obi-wan, the stubborn masochist) will keep insisting that they keep going far past the point where they seem okay, especially during impact play; Satine knows when she needs to stop herself because their limits can get blurred. 

And she does occasionally have to safeword out, too. Dom/mes use safewords too, guys! She can get very distressed if her sadistic impulses run afoul of her pacifist ideology- while she likes hitting masochists who enjoy it, if someone seems upset while she’s striking them (even with happy tears or catharsis) she can feel really, really awful about it if she feels like she’s lost control. Obi-wan and Maul, both switches to varying degrees, are pretty good at taking over and not letting her subject flip out when she needs to recover. And then when the crisis is averted she gets cuddled and kissed and told yes, they wanted this, she did well by them, she took care of them and didn’t break her vows.

HAPPY CUDDLY DEFINITELY-CONSENSUAL BDSM PLAY *~*JAZZ HANDS*~*