… that can drink till it is sick, but cannot drink till it is satisfied."
Written for Maria_Antonina (@moosemonstrous) for the 2023 Smut Wars Exchange (@smut-wars-exchange)!
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Relationship: Darth Maul/CT-7567 | Rex
Characters: CT-7567 | Rex, Darth Maul
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Percy Jackson Fusion, Demigod CT-7567 | Rex, Monster Darth Maul, Transmasculine CT-7567 | Rex, Tentacle Sex, Consentacles, First Time, i originally intended this to be dubcon, but it seems like i just can't do that to my boys so it's actually, Enthusiastic Consent, mentioned crying during sex, mentioned multiple penetration, mentioned anal sex, Bittersweet Ending, Smut Wars 2023 Treat
Series: Part 1 of "teeth marks on everything he loves"
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Like I recognize that any dumbass stalker freaking out about fake things happening to fake people is pretty much guaranteed to have an internet connection, a dearth of parental care, and not an ounce of reading comprehension, but this is just fucking lazy. These are literally on my account wtf! Like I'm flattered that you think my writing style is anything close to Svar's (congrats on finally spelling her name right, dipshit) but that's pretty effectively cancelled out by the fact that you still can't tell the difference between "discomfort" and "harm" or fiction and reality.
For fuck's sake, try harder. Put some actual effort into your stalking before your parents get home and make you do your homework, you little brat.
And maybe consider hitting up my Sith!Cody/Maul fics, seems like maybe it'd be to your taste lmao.
TL;DR I'm TheAceApples, I'm proship, I write rape porn and smut with "MINORS", and you're an embarrassment to the time-honored traditions of ship wars and flaming fics you don't like. Go cry about it.
Everyone else, go read the "interference" series, it's funky and sexy and has spider-leggies!!
How about Maulrex + “Being stuck with you is my worst nightmare coming true.”?
The clone says it as Maul stalks from one end of their shared cell to the other.
Toneless, idle, eyes closed and head tilted back against the duracrete wall. His very first words since they were captured separately and tossed into a featureless cell together. "Wow. Being stuck with someone like you is literally my worst nightmare coming true."
He doesn't look at Maul and he doesn't react when Maul slinks closer, coming to a stop just inches from his bare knees.
"I very much doubt you've met anyone 'like me', clone," he says, silky, friendly.
The clone snorts. His eyes remain close but a loose hand comes up to hover by his head, ticking off fingers as he elaborates. "I'm injured, I've been captured, I'm concussed, I'm naked." He stresses this point, over-enunciating as if it is the most galling of all his enumerated indignities. "And to top it off, I'm stuck in a tiny room with an unstable Darksider." The fingers change position so that only his first two remain up before curling them up and down, twice, in time with the last word. "This is literally the premise of a horror-holo. I'm going to die and get eaten by a weird demon-worm or something. I'm furious."
Maul stares flatly at the clone. "Your fury is unimpressive."
"I am also—very dizzy. From the concussion. From getting pistol-whipped and strip—oh my god, I got mugged. I got karking mugged."
Maul continues to stare in growing fascination as the clone proceeds to mumble his many displeasures. To his own displeasure, the corners of his lips turn upward without his direction. They refuse to flatten as the clone attempts to scrub a hand through the golden fuzz atop his head only to remember his injury and curse their captors anew.
He curses them so vociferously that Maul learns several new combinations of vulgarity that would never have occurred to him. Reluctantly entertained, Maul allows himself to rest against the wall next to the door of their cell and quietly observe the clone.
His apprentice will no doubt arrive shortly to free Maul and wreak havoc upon their enemies.
Maul considers the likelihood that Savage will be carrying the means to treat a concussion. He also considers how ardently Savage will oppose taking the entertaining clone with them when they leave. Maul does not believe he will object as fiercely as he would if the clone had the darker hair of his fellows. He has noticed that Savage's gaze lingers upon yellow-haired individuals more than any others.
Perhaps he will be able to use this to convince Savage that keeping the clone would be the best course of action...
Oh man oh man, for the writing prompt: 5 + 17 for either ObiMaul or MaulRex?
5. Enemies to lovers + 17. Sex then love Well now if that aint the most quintessential maulrex experience......
(Warnings for violence and implied sexual content ig? And also past Jessex and unrequited JesseMaul and however you warn for thinking of someone else while banging.)
Ahsoka leaves; Maul comes back. That's what it comes down to in the end.
It isn't abandonment—they agree that it will be safer for them both if they split up—but deep in Rex's heart, it feels like being abandoned. It feels like his only vod left in the galaxy is leaving him, walking away without marching, and part of him resents her for it. It isn't fair, but there it is.
And then Maul, again, alone, without weapons, without even his melodic hissing trying to turn Rex's mind inside-out. He sits next to Rex in the dingy cantina and says, "Lady Tano has left you?" As if it's a question; as if he's surprised.
"Why are you here," Rex mutters, slurs, three sheets to the wind because Ahsoka is gone and his vode are gone and his general is gone and everything is kriffing gone.
Maul hesitates, is the thing.
Not for effect, not to be dramatic or to manipulate. He sounds kriffing careful as he begins, "The lieutenant, Jesse—"
But he doesn't get farther than that because Jesse is dead, they're all kriffing dead, and Rex does his ARC Trooper best to put Maul's head through the damned wall. He gets a few good smashes in before he hits the wall himself, held a few inches off the ground by an immovable band around his torso, pinning him.
Rex wishes, viciously, that Maul was Human or an Iridonian hybrid, so he could see the spectacular bruising blooming all over Maul's face. He knows his own strength, he knows the damage he's done, even hidden by ink and blood.
"I know the lieutenant is dead," Maul snarls as the cantina quickly clears out, and he sounds—angry. Angry in the way that Rex feels; angry in the way that hides grief. "He wasn't meant to. I didn't want him to."
And isn't that a kriffing laugh, since Maul is the one who killed him.
Maul's fierce expression wavers.
"Jesse was already gone," he says, softly, looking tired and wrung out. And maybe that's what gets Rex to slump down, to give up fighting. Probably is, in fact. That even Maul is tired of being angry. "His body may have been moving, but he was Jesse no longer. That I can promise you, Commander."
Rex looks blearily up at him, on the floor now and when did that happen, and laughs. It sounds watery. But it's funny, Maul making him promises and talking about Jesse as if he knew him, as if he cared.
"Didn't you hear?" he says, laugh turning into a hiccup. "I got demoted."
The cold fire in Maul's eyes warms slightly, and between one long blink and the next, Rex is on his feet, a warm around his shoulders, gripping firmly at one of his elbows. Damned if he knows which one. "Captain suits you better," Maul's soft voice murmurs into his ear, warm breath tickling and making him shiver. "Come now, Rex. Jesse wouldn't want this for you..."
Part of him balks at that. Half-dragged out of the cantina and towards a ship, Rex can still summon up some offense.
"How the—the frip would you know what Jesse would want."
It's too loud, echoing around the little shuttle.
Maul slings him down on a cot and looks down at him, head tilted to the side. He looks... curious, maybe? And still so damnably soft. "Because he loved you very dearly, Rex. Now go to sleep."
“Kark you,” Rex tries to say, tries to snarl, but Maul is walking away and even just a shuttle cot is making him well up. Because it smells like a barracks cot. Because it smells like home.
He presses his face to the pillow and doesn’t bother—pretending, he supposes.
Doesn’t bother pretending to be strong, pretending to be okay. Just lets whatever happens next... happen.
.
Cried out, half-suffocated, and mostly asleep, a body warm and cold slips in behind him. Chilled legs pressing up against his, warm arm wraps around his chest.
It isn’t a vod.
Rex pretends anyway.
.
It’s funny, is the thing. Because he’s pretty sure Maul pretends too. Sometimes, at least.
When he’s not being disturbingly intense whenever Rex crawls on top of him or presses him down—and Maul always lets him, is the thing, always goes with it, never says no—then he’ll sometimes close his eyes, press his head back and let Rex use him. He doesn’t say Rex, or Captain, and that’s how Rex knows.
It’s odd to think about, so he usually doesn’t.
(Somehow, they both lost Jesse. If he thinks about that, he’ll have to break things. And breaking things might turn into breaking people. Rex doesn’t want to break people. Not even Maul.)
.
It takes almost two years, before he realizes.
Ironically, it’s because they both end up saying Jesse. And part of Rex wants to scream, wants to bite and scratch and curse. Instead, he kisses Maul over and over, whispering Jesse all the while, until he’s ready to go again. Maul does the same, touching him with fervor Jesse and Rex and Jesse falling from his lips.
After, Rex realizes that he hasn’t commed Ahsoka in months. Hasn’t even looked for her. He wonders when that happened, and why, then looks over at Maul, covered in bites and bruises, even thought he can’t see them.
And, oh.
It’s because all his vode are gone, but Maul—is here.
“He does know that what we’re doing is, in fact, illegal, correct?” Maul asks as Rex groans in embarrassment.
“He does know that what we’re doing is, in fact, illegal, correct?” Maul asks as Rex groans in embarrassment.
He covers his face with his hands, unable to continue watching Hardcase bounce excitedly on the balls of his feet. "He knows," he says, muffled but intelligible. "The idiot just loves explosions. And, you know, crime."
"I've been arrested on every planet we've ever had leave on, except Corellia!" Hardcase happily informs the ex-Sith. "I don't know what their Judicials' limit is, but I'll find it!"
Rex groans again, adding a touch of sobbing for effect. "Are you sure we have to keep this in-house?"
"Would you rather go to the trouble of coordinating with another one of your"—Maul waves his hand lazily—"battalions, only to find ourselves thwarted because the lines of communication weren't properly secured? No. Better to use the assets at our disposal and avoid the risk."
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Hello 🥸 for the rexconditioned au: "I'm afraid to forget your name."
@svartalfheimr
The captain is—befuddled, by his legs.
Maul notices it, eventually; after the euphoria of finally having found his One again, he notices it.
He is never unaware of Maul's presence, yet every time the captain turns to face him, it is as if, somehow, he is struck all over again by the difference. Maul is still taller than him but only just. His legs are still metal but in a more familiar shape. One of the first things One, and Rex, had said to him after finally finding himself was that he looks good, healthier.
Yet the legs seem to give him trouble.
Even his name for Maul, from their very first meeting, spider, has gained a wistful quality when One or Rex says it. Wistful, like his recollections of his gevod, back at the start of things.
Maul finds himself wondering if this single change is insurmountable, that it continues to catch his captain off-guard; his horns are not so overgrown and his skin is no longer veined with Darkness and he has regained as much fat as he believes he ever will, and these changes are ones of which One approves.
But he is his spider—a spider without its legs.
He cradles One-and-Rex close to his chest and contemplates for hours at a time.
During one such stretch, while calloused brown fingers trace the markings across his shoulders, the captain speaks. "I'm afraid to forget your name," Rex says, mild as he admits to the fear. This is one way for Maul to tell them apart, when even holding them tightly to his body gives no indication.
It serves as a needed reminder that Maul is not the only one changed, in strange ways both visible and not.
(The hairs dusted across his captain's chest and down his belly are golden, after all.)
Maul turns the confession over in his mind for many minutes before replying. "If you are stolen from me again, I will take you back," he proposes. "And if they make you forget me again, then I will remind you. I am no longer a creature of fear and pain; I will remind you of us both."
He feels the curve of the captain's mouth against his throat, and vividly remembers the first instance of such.
"Good, I'm glad. Still my spider, though."
"Yes," Maul agrees into the darkness and silence. "I am still yours."
For Maul/Alpha!Rex.....hmmmm...lessee... how about a sentence:
“How did you know that would happen?”
“How did you know that would happen?”
The Anacondan cackles at One-Seven's question and curls tighter around his—master's?—shoulders. "Oh, he always gets like this, when someone new is in his den." He nuzzles his master's—friend's?—jaw and One-Seven watches the Zabrak absentmindedly run a hand over his head and down his body. "That's why I send people down here: they always try to kill him, so he kills them, and then I get his leftovers!"
He seems very pleased with their arrangement until he catches sight of One-Seven's unimpressed face.
"Oh, uh, no... hard feelings about that, right? You're alive, and it looks like you hurt my master more than he hurt you. So... water... under the bridge?"
One-Seven eyes the blaster graze on red and black skin and considers holding onto his offense. He could kill the Anacondan, could kill the twisted and broken and clanking Zabrak, but—hells. At least if he had to crash on this junkyard of a planet, he found the two most interesting beings around.
"I've got a bacta patch for that," he says, tapping the affected spot on his own chest. "Think you can convince him to let me use it?"
The Anacondan blinks and cackles again, shaking his head.
"Master," he croons into the Zabrak's ear, "the clone wants to help you. Heal you. Would you like that, master?"
It's odd; One-Seven is sure the Zabrak is as intelligent as any other being, yet he hisses and growls and says nothing, completely feral. Like the combination of isolation and whatever mortal wound he had apparently refused to let kill him has just—flipped a switch. He understands words and concepts, enough to coordinate with his Anacondan friend, but he's still ruled by animal instinct.
One-Seven watches him take in the information and narrow his bloody, sickly yellow eyes.
Settling his helmet firmly on the ground, he gets back to his feet and approaches. The Zabrak's spider-like legs click and jangle as he watches One-Seven's approach with mounting suspicion, mounting panic. When One-Seven crosses an unseen line, he snarls another threat display.
With an internal shrug, One-Seven snarls right back.
It startles both the Zabrak and Anacondan; One-Seven watches those eyes roll wildly as he tries to literally back them up the wall to get away, and sighs.
He holds up the bacta-patch demonstratively.
"I am going to put this on that burn," he threatens, taking another step and watching the Zabrak's shoulders round further and further. "Now be a good little spider and try not to put up too much of a fight."
HELLO FOR THE REX IS ALPHA 17 PROMPT CHALLENGE may i ask for ""maulrex"":
The... captain appears to be much more complacent than he used to be; if Maul were someone else, he would have previously defined him as 'rude'—a trait that he seems to lack now.
The... captain appears to be much more complacent than he used to be; if Maul were someone else, he would have previously defined him as 'rude'—a trait that he seems to lack now.
He tracks him through Sundari, watching him through his Mandalorians, avaricious.
His captain—One, his mind insists; Rex, the captain had insisted; Maul wants to obey and yet cannot—his captain watches the Jedi young woman with soft eyes and protective posture. He guards her; he misses her.
Maul can see it, can feel it, though he has muffled their bond. It was ragged and poorly-formed at the outset, but when Maul finally found One who calls himself Rex, it became—a distraction.
Distractions killed Savage, his brother, his anchor with One out of reach. Maul cannot allow himself to be distracted with the galaxy about to upheave.
And then, One-who-is-now-Rex, in the sewers and fighting Maul alongside the Jedi woman—girl? She is younger than Maul had thought, and One-Rex protects her like she is precious to him, getad'ika.
He had spoken of a lad, with too-long limbs and too-pale skin but with fire in his belly. Gevod, One had called the lad.
There had been a wistfulness to One as he'd spoken of this gevod. And how he has getad'ika. Maul wonders what One-who-is-now-Rex would call him. There is a word that Maul had learned from his Mandalorians, who sometimes remind him painfully of his One, which he dares not speak.
But he looks at One-who-is-now-Rex and curls around the word, and feels—gevercopaani.
