#and yes to everyone's surprise Maul wears the pants in this relationship

[ihatetheinternetandeveryoneonit]

The Maul Situation

cw: mentions of blood and gore, and the dark brotherhood and Maven Black Briar are assholes, big shocker. But also OOC

The sun danced over the Velothi mountain peaks and the birds trilled through the aspens, and the sights and sounds and crisp air settled through the open windows of the sitting room. Veezara and his new recruit, soaked in the brains and other juices of of an unfortunate Argonian, soaked it all in. The Blackbriar mead was a welcome reprieve from their early morning escapades, especially in the luxurious home of its namesake.

"Mmm! Divines, Maven," Veezara wore a wide smile. "This is some serious gourmet shit. Me and my friend would have been satisfied with a tepid Honningbrew, but you go and spring this fucking gourmet shit on us! What is this flavor, do I detect juniper berries?"

"Knock it off, Veezara." Maven Blackbriar folded her arms, still in her nightgown.

"What?"

"I don't need you to tell me how fucking good my mead is. I'm the one who makes it, I know how good it is. When Maul goes shopping, he buys shit. I make the gourmet expensive stuff 'cause when I drink it, I wanna taste it. But you wanna know what's on my mind right now? It isn't the mead in my cellar, it's the dead lizard in my stable."

"Oh, Maven, don't even worry ab--" Veezara held up a hand. His companion's eyes darted between him and Maven, tankard frozen on their lips.

"No, no, no, no. I'm talking." Maven scowled. "Now let me ask you a question, Veezara. When you came pulling in here, did you notice a sign out front that said 'dead lizard storage?'"

"Maven, you know I didn't--" Veezara put his smile and a friendly shrug back on gingerly.

"Did you notice a sign that said 'Dead Liard Storage??'" Maven's voice rose.

Veezara sighed. "No. No I didn't."

"You know why you didn't see that sign?" Maven moved her hands to her hips.

"Why?" Veezara's eyes were to the floor, playing along.

"Because IT'S NOT THERE BECAUSE STORING DEAD LIZARDS AIN'T MY FUCKING BUSINESS! THAT'S WHY!"

"Well, Maven!" Veezara looked up and held up a hand. "We're not going to store it or any--"

"No-no-no-no!" Maven held up a finger. "Don't you fucking realize that if Maul comes home and finds a dead body in his house, he's gonna fucking leave me? No counselor from the temple of Mara, no trial separation, fucking gone. And I don't want to find a new right-hand man! Just…fuck, I want to help you out, Veezara, I really do. But I'm not going to lose Maul doing it.

"Maven, Maven, he's not going to leave--"

"DON'T FUCKING 'MAVEN' ME, VEEZARA! There's nothing you're gonna say that's going to make me forget that I love--" she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Now look, he's going to get back from leaning against Aerin's house in an hour and a half. You got to speak to the Night Mother or Sithis or whatever for help? Well then do it! And then get the fuck out of my house!"

"Good, well, we don't want to fuck your shit up." Veezara summoned his smile back once more. All we're going to do is call our people to bring us in."

"You're fucking my shit up right now!" Maven spat. "Just do me this favor, get your shit done, and get out of here!" Maven marched out of the sitting room. Veezara's companion stared at him, tankard now emptied. Veezara sighed, chugged the last of his own mead and wiped his mouth. "Let's get to it."

[thunderheadfred]

🦅Hawks HC’s🦅

This is SO unnecessarily long. Some NSFW. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

General

Has zero social life or hobbies outside of work. He knows it’s unhealthy, but like, who has the time?? Oh? Lots of people do?? Haha what are healthy work/home boundaries? He desperately wants to retire and always talks about a world without heroes, but the truth is he would have no idea what to do with himself if he got his way. Take him to a park at midnight and watch him turn into a giant repressed child on a swing. He’ll do a standing-360 and it will be terrifying.

Listens to music way too loud in his headphones to drown out wind noise. Probably half deaf at this point. His musical taste is wild; listening history all over the fucking place. Algorithms have no idea what to do with him.

That visor? It’s prescription. Wow is he far-sighted. He wears glasses. He’s not blind without them (rather the opposite) but they help him see things directly in front of him without massive eye strain. Yeah, he looks really hot in glasses.

Prefers communicating via text. Sometimes it’s a lot of dumb memes, but mostly it’s sincere. He can say what he means when he doesn’t have to put on a public front.

Smokes like a chimney. Self medicates with stimulants. Coffee, tobacco, sugar. Fidgety, likes things in his mouth or hands. Gnashes on toothpicks and popsicle sticks. He really should go back to therapy, huh? His teeth are sparkling white for the cameras but his breath could use some work. Chews gum a lot to compensate, and always does it really loudly with a big shit-eating grin.

Impatient as fuuuuuck. Rude about it. If you take too long doing anything, you’re going to hear a foot tapping. He’ll smile and laugh it off, never ever directly criticize you about it. But lord, the dramatic sighs. He WILL nudge you out of the way and take over in order to finish a task faster, and it’s truly fucking annoying.

LOVES food. Has the metabolism of an actual bird. Will seize upon any excuse to eat. No need to be self-conscious about eating in front of him; he wants you to enjoy it. Steals bites from you and talks with his mouth full. Prefers street food and take-out, usually eats while walking or flying. Sit-down restaurants are an invitation for gawkers.

He’s one of those celebrities that looks way taller on TV. In real life, he’s small and compact. So you’re surprised the first time you see him in person. He has a big head. Literally.

If you’re taller or bigger than him, he does Not Care. He treats everyone like they’re four feet tall, even Endeavor. Everything you do is cute. If you’re actually short, he’s going to carry you around all the time, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Collects big chunky overpriced watches. All the better to tell you you’re late.

Half his clothes are brand fucking new. Sometimes he forgets to take off the tags. (Don’t look at the prices, do NOT) He never seems to wear the same thing twice. He also never seems to go shopping. Brands just give him stuff, and he shrugs and goes “yeah okay.”

The other half of his clothes are old, faded, and patched up. Every item he acquires for himself has deep sentimental value. If you tell him to throw away that nasty ten-year-old pair of frayed cargo pants, be prepared to find out how wrong and evil you are for even suggesting it.

He doesn’t snore; he coos. Loudly. Like a fucking pigeon trapped in a megaphone.

- - - - -

Dating

Gift-giving is his love language. Bringing your favorite snacks. Leaving novelty magnets on your fridge. He found a copy of that book/game/movie you mentioned like a month ago, don’t you remember? If he has to go out of town on a job, he’ll bring back the ugliest possible souvenir, just to annoy you.

He likes gifting jewelry especially. Covering you in shiny baubles, little golden things. Not expensive, but unusual. Antiques or handmade, even bizarre vending machine crap. Gets really handsy if you wear or show off his gifts.

Since you’re the first person who has given him The Feels, if you are resistant to his advances (like, say, because he’s way too famous and you’re terrified he’s gonna break your heart) he’s going to go fucking nuts trying to woo you. Doesn’t have a single patient bone in his body but will wait as long as it takes for you to come around. He’ll act like he’s cool with just being friends at first, just hanging out, haha. Oh you’re busy today? That’s cool. Inside he’s shrieking like a tea kettle. Go ahead, make him wait.

Don’t bother giving him a key to your place. He’s coming in through the bedroom window or patio door. Just put out a damn welcome mat on your balcony... or a bird feeder.

A bit of a voyeur. He likes to watch you do your normal routine without interruption. He can see from miles away so if you’ve got your lights on at night, he’ll creep for a while before he comes in. It comforts him immensely, seeing a little slice of the world that isn’t constantly in need of saving.

Is super talkative and funny but a terrible communicator. Makes more jokes the worse he feels. Will almost never tell you what he needs. Most of the time, he doesn’t even know. You will learn to read between the lines and gradually notice his tiny unconscious cries for help. Back rubs make him emotional.

He shows up at your place at the weirdest times. All hours. You’re never ready. At first it was infuriating, because you wanted to look your best and have time to prepare, but you figure out pretty quickly that seeing you in your natural state is his favorite thing. He never gets to be around normal people, doing normal things. A boring, lazy afternoon is his idea of paradise.

He’ll pick through your things and ask a world of invasive questions. A medicine cabinet raider. He wants to know every fucking tiny thing about you, live vicariously through you.

He actually lives in a top floor penthouse. Because I mean, where else? Never spends any time there; mostly he seems to roost on the balcony. He has used the front door maybe once. He much prefers your place, and will only take you back to his after months of dating. It’ll take like, an entire emergency. You’ll end up in his bed by mistake.

Because when you finally come over, he’s embarrassed. Its sparse. White. Things in boxes. A new furniture smell. Like he’s not done moving in, though he’s lived there for years. He wants you to move in So Bad but doesn’t want to be pushy. If you don’t start leaving your stuff there, he’ll steal things from your apartment. Where the hell is your favorite t-shirt? Or that pillowcase you like? Dammit Keigo.

He’s a decent cook, a habit he made himself pick up because he thought it might make him feel more normal. It... didn’t. He never actually cooks until you give him an excuse. He’ll bring you breakfast in bed and watch you eat every bite with big hungry eyes.

He’s got a separate wardrobe for his hero costume and all his feathers. Yeah. His feathers. Because he can detach and control his feathers at will, when he’s alone at home he kind of just... shucks off his wings. The first time you see him do it, your eyes fall out of your head. He walks around in a tee shirt and boxers with these ugly little stumps covered in brownish, blood-red down. It actually looks kind of gnarly, like he got mauled by a bear.

He’s never dated until you. No one has ever been in his apartment until you. No one has called him Keigo until you. He has some bigass intimacy issues. Because. Y’know. The trauma. But god, he wants you in his life so bad, even if he has no idea how to make time for your relationship.

He’ll want to keep you to himself for a while. Once you go public he’s going to have an arm around your shoulders at all times. Publicly Displays his Affection way more than is socially acceptable in Japan, and gives precisely -100,000 fucks.

His fans either love you or hate you. There is no in between. He will immediately take your phone and threaten to drop it from a great height if he catches you reading shitty gossip about the two of you. Does NOT care about his public image anymore, doesn’t want YOU to care about it either. He’s gonna retire soon anyway, remember? That’s a lie.

Being a charming motherfucker is the core of his public persona, so you will get jealous. A lot. He will flirt shamelessly without realizing it. He will get photographed in compromising positions with gorgeous people.

Once you accept that he’s basically an actor 80% of the time and that Hawks and Keigo are separate identities, you’ll both feel better. When he comes home (to YOU) and falls over exhausted and stops being Hawks(tm), when he scratches his ass or burps in front of you, when he yells to you from the bathroom, when he groans childishly about his shitty day while laying face-down in your lap, you’ll know you have nothing to worry about. Keigo is all yours.

Boundaries? Never heard of ‘em. He’s either a million lightyears away or he’s glued to your hip. The whiplash is astounding.

Absolutely says “I love you” wayyyyyy to soon. It thrills you but scares you off at the same time, because there’s no way Hawks - The Hawks - can actually mean it, right? (He does)

Rings? Nah. When things get serious, he will make a necklace out of a feather for you, and if you ever take it off, you better be asleep or in the shower. Even then you’re on thin fuckin ice. If you’re not wearing it he knows. He’s never mean about making you put it back on, it just makes him nervous if he can’t feel your heartbeat.

- - - - -

SPICY CHICKEN NUGGETS

High sex drive. Horny like 25/7. Probably a symptom of having way too much pent up stress.

Often takes care of it himself when he doesn’t have the emotional resources for anyone else, even his S.O. Figures you don’t want him coming on to you as often as he would like to, but he’s too stupid to talk to you about it first. Morning masturbator.

Yes he’s fucked around a lot but he’s not exactly a playboy either. People have always thrown themselves at him, and before he met you he let them do it. Especially when out of town and staying in a hotel. Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, etc.

He’d never be unfaithful to you though; his loyalty and dedication are frankly a little unsettling. Sometimes you feel like the only thing in his life other than hero work. Teach this man to knit. Make him join a book club. Christ. Anything.

Does in fact have seasonal mating patterns and it’s super embarrassing.

An underwear-sniffing perv. He’ll definitely hump your pillow.

Gets a sick thrill out of breaking in and startling you. Coming up behind you in the dark, sneaking into your bed. It’s probably his worst habit, and even he hates that he does it. If you get better at detecting him he’ll be so proud. Land a slap on him and he’ll be a horny mess.

Dog-whistles at you. Often from rooftops, and you have no idea where he is but you know he’s leering.

He will call you a lot of really stupid pet names. He likes the way you blush when he finds a newer, stupider one. Calls you angel when he’s really far gone.

Likes to scratch you with his stubble until your skin turns raw and sensitive. If it annoys you or hurts a little? Even better. Making you squirm is his new favorite thing. Especially when going down on you. Your inner thighs are always exfoliated.

His cock is average in every respect. This is not a bad thing. He knows how to please you with every totally normal inch of that cock. He has some kind of homing beacon installed on your sensitive spots.

Goes absolutely insane for blowjobs. Any time, any place.

Likes to bend you around in all kinds of positions with an assist from his feathers to hold up an ankle here, an arm there. Get used to floating mid-coitus. It just seems to happen.

Spanky.

His number one priority is making you feel adored and at home in his bed. Ohhhhh he likes to make you smile. But if you encourage him to get pushy and dominant with you, you will have a good, good time.

He’s switchy, and will lose his shit if you initiate or take control. Again, he’s always horny for you, because he can finally let go. Breathe in his direction and he’s hard.

Doesn’t moan much, but Babe, he’s a dirty talker. He’s not smooth or deliberate about it, it’s more like he can’t fucking believe you let him do whatever he wants to you. You like that huh? Like he’s in stages of shock. He’s singing your praises to high Heaven and muttering oh shit oh shit oh shittttttt and laugh-crying as he cums. He never talks about his feelings; he fucks about them.

After. Care. King. He loves pampering and clucking over you anyway, this is simply another excuse to do it. He knows exactly how much water you drink in a day. Can’t take care of himself for shit, but you? You’ll never have a need he won’t try to fill. What’s all that hero work for if not this? Yeah, soak it up. You deserve it.

[incorrectclonewars]

at odds part.1

another maulsoka fanfic! this one is a modern au where everyone is human. sidious is a big crime lord and maul is his right-hand man to make all the bad things happen and was in a relationship with ahsoka, until she found out the things he was doing and broke up with him and moved away.

maul as a human is pale and heavily inked with tattoos, red spiky hair and dressed in all black and of course a leather jacket. ahsoka is dark skinned with vitiligo, her hair is white with blue dye, and she wears a mix between feminine and tomboy. 

warning: mentions of blood & bruises, getting beaten up and some medical help (not serious, just some normal things like when you get a scratch) . lots of angst, swearing, mentions of sex (not including the word sex) and a make-out. did i mention angst?

The dark night sky was filled with rain and thunder, exactly how she remembered it. The shabby homes and apartments, lined up and creaked with every footstep, people dressed in dark clothing - hoodies their favourite, and walked around as if they were up to no good.

Ah yes, that’s exactly how Ahsoka remembered this place which she used to call home, now coming back she wondered how she could ever imagine seeing this shit hole as somewhere to live.

The brightness on her phone had to be decreased to not strain her eyes, the messages from just an hour ago reminded her why she had such thoughts.

Oh Maul...what have you done now?

Feral had called her an hour ago in a frantic, saying Maul wasn’t himself, especially after she left and was only getting worse. He needed help, and she was the only option despite leaving him two years ago.

She could never forget the sight of those unconscious bodies and Maul standing over them, blood on his hands. But the look on his face when he saw her - it broke her heart, but after knowing that he was doing this for years she just couldn’t stay with him, and left as soon as she could.

But after hearing Feral, she knew that she needed to come back.

Her hands shook as they turned the key in the lock and hearing the click, taking a deep breath, Ahsoka walked through the door and shut it behind her. Unlike the other accommodations, the floors here didn’t creak under her feet, but that didn’t stop her from taking slow and cautious steps. 

He isn’t here, ok, that was good. She had time to prepare then. 

She went through many scenarios in her head for what she would say to Maul but none of them felt good enough, what could she say? That she was sorry for leaving, but she had to because of what he did? It was true, but it felt too blunt, too harsh.

Her feet kept moving, taking in the place she once called home. It looked...bad. Clothes on the ground, dishes in the sink, paper peeling off the walls - 

“Oh…” The chairs were broken, laid on the floor that Ahsoka can only think that they had been thrown against the wall, and knows who did it.

She doesn’t dare go any further, and fate seems to agree as the door is burst open, clanking loudly at the force and as it shuts. Ahsoka freezes only for a second before pulling herself back together, and turns.

It’s Maul, dressed in black as always, but his clothing is ripped, there’s also blood. Her eyes widen at his state, and when he see’s her, he freezes.

“Ahsoka…”

Force, she had missed her name from his lips - she had missed his voice.

“Maul…”

Shit. She can’t speak, she can’t say why she’s here and wants to help him before he stares her down with a glare.

“What are you doing here?” He asks with a harsh voice. Ahsoka expected this, yet it still hurts. “Come to gloat at how better your life is without me? How Coruscant is much better than this piece of trash?” He turns away and sits on the couch, the only furniture that hasn’t been trashed.

She sighs. “Maul -”

“Or, have you found someone else and come to rub it in my face? Tell me how much better he is than me in every single way? Oh, and the sex must be great -”

“Would you shut up and let me talk!”

He whips his head back and he stands. “Why should I? You left me!” 

“I know I did, and I’m sorry -”

“Oh your sorry? Well that makes everything better doesn’t it!” He throws his hands in the air. “Why don’t we have a little tea party and celebrate -!” A wince cuts off his rant, his attention now at his side where his hands hold. 

Ahsoka looks at him worriedly and takes a step forward. “Maul, let me help.” He opens his mouth but she’s quick. “Please. Just...Just let me help you with those wounds, I’ll answer any question you give me. Please.”

She’s begging - pleading for him, she wants to talk, to set everything right no matter how long it’ll take, but not while he’s in pain and bleeding. He stares at her with anger in his eyes, but it’s faded as he sighs and sits back down, a wave of his hand as he says. “Do what you want.”

Ok, this is good - well, the yelling may have ended, but it was far from over. 

It’s a good thing she keeps a kit in her bag, being with Anakin too long made it happen.

But first, a wet cloth.

She finds a clean one and fills up a tub with cold water, and gently sits down next to him with the bowl on the table. He doesn’t look at her, it’s hurtful but expected. She touches his arm and he tenses, and recoils back. 

“Maul,” Ahsoka begs softly. He sneers and basically slams his arm on her lap, turning his head away more and leaning his chin on the palm of his head. Ok, that was kinda childish, but she’ll leave it for now. Unlike Maul, she’s gentle as she positions his arm so that she can gently wipe and rib the blood off, new and old. 

It’s silent for a few minutes, but Ahsoka can’t hold it in any longer.

“What happened?” Her voice as soft and gentle as it could be knowing his reactions, but with a lingering tone suggesting that she wasn’t going to back down.

Maul waits longer then a minute to answer. “Just some assholes who didn’t know when to stop.”

Vague, she remembers how sometimes she would ask him something; What did he want to eat or drink? Where should they go out for the day? What does this mean? Most of the times he could give a straight answer, other times he liked to play and would be so very vague about it that it ended up in a playfully wrestling match. 

She misses those times.

Once the blood is gone she pulls out the kit of her beg and disinfects the wound before wrapping it up, then moves onto the other. There isn’t much on his arm so she finishes quickly, and moves onto his chest.

She mentions to his shirt. “You need to take this off.”

“Already trying to get into my pants?”

Ahsoka ignores the blush and heat of her body, memories of them being playful as they stripped their clothing and had fun. 

Maul threw the shirt on the table and Ahsoka didn’t really care to tell him off, her thoughts on the semi-battered chest before her.

There are small cuts and bruises that won’t do any damage so they get done fast, some others take longer, but they are treated nevertheless. The one that made him wince was big, more bruised then the rest but had no blood - he was kicked there, perhaps. 

She taps it gentle. “Someone got a hit.”

“He paid for it greatly.”

She almost doesn’t want to know. “Please tell me you -”

“I didn’t kill him.” Maul cuts her off. “Rest assured, his body as well as his friends are just having a hard time getting to the hospital. They’ll make it.”

Swallowing the sigh of relief, a part of her cheers that they’re still alive, but she can’t avoid Maul’s actions in the matter. He still did what he did, it was wrong and she can’t push that away. 

She finishes cleaning and disinfecting it, now it’s time to wrap it up. 

Ahsoka pulls him to sit forward, there’s a grumble on his lips that dies as soon as she begins to wrap the first roll around his torso. Her job right now is to help his wounds, but her eyes can’t help but avert to his hardened chest that was almost covered by black ink. 

She remembers laying with him in bed in the afterglow of their first night and tracing the lines of his tattoos, each one having a story that she listened to as he told her. He was warm and held her tightly as he kissed her forehead and smiled at her so lovingly.

If only she didn’t see that night, that would still be happening, but she would have found out eventually and done the same thing. 

Better now that later they always say.

The bandage now done, Ahsoka ties it up tight to keep it from falling. “You need to change these everyday, wash your cuts, wounds and bruises before you put a new one back on. Also change them if they get dirty or wet. I’ll leave this here -”

“Why did you leave?”

The question fills the air with tension and freezes the young woman. Ahsoka knew he would ask that, she’s surprised it wasn’t the first thing that came out of his mouth when he saw her, but he must have been too shocked to see her here. 

Letting the roll of bandage fall to the table, Ahsoka sits back but doesn’t look at him. “When I saw you that night, everything started to make sense. The times you were out, the plans having to be cancelled because you had more work to do and the strange hours you worked. At first I thought that you were seeing someone else, but I knew you weren’t that kind of person.” Hands together, her fingers brush and twiddle against each other. “I saw the name Sidious on your contacts and overheard you say his name a few times, along with some other things that didn’t sound good, but I trusted you. That night you said that you were going to be late again so I thought I would cook a nice dinner, and then I saw you, and everything just clicked together.”

She had done some research on the name after she saw that scene and found tie-ins to violent attacks, gangs and criminal organisations. He had people all around the city doing his bidding, and looking at one hooded figure, she was filled with a feeling of familiarity, and was horrified for it to be Maul.

“You could have stayed here, and wait for me to come back and explain.”

“I could have, but I was scared. I needed to get away from it all and sort everything out.”

“And did you?” His tone was still angry, but curious. 

Ahsoka shook her head. She didn’t really figure anything out when she left, all her thoughts were on Maul. “No, all I could think about….was you.” Finally she turns to him to see the widen of his eyes, clearly not expecting an answer like that. She’s waiting for him to glare, yell and scream like before, even threatening her to get out - 

She gasps when he touches her cheek, his fingers gently brushing over the skin. He’s staring at her and she can’t help but fall to those eyes, she didn’t realise they had moved closer until his nose was just inches away from her own.

“I missed you.” 

“...I missed you too.” He says in a whisper with a look of brokenness, her heart clenches, and when he cups her cheek, she leans into the touch.

Maul shifts closer, a knee between her legs. 

It’s like watching in slow motion, knowing what’s about to come, but she gives no resistance as his lips cover her own

Ahsoka’s hands find their way to his body, one on his arm and the other over his hand on her cheek as she pulls him closer.

Force - it feels so good, so natural, so much like home.

Maul growls and presses further, his hands moving to her coat and pushing it down, she allows him to throw it off her, His hands on her waist and rubbing against her clothing, and she can’t help but moan and melt under it all. 

Before Ahsoka knows it, she’s pushed on her back and Maul’s hands are all over her, drinking her in until they get underneath her shirt. She breaks the kiss to moan and lavishes at his lips on her neck as his hands rise and reach her bra to squeeze her breasts.

No. This is wrong. They shouldn’t be doing this.

“Maul -”

“Shhh.” He purrs at her ear, the hit of his breath causing goosebumps. “Don’t talk, just feel, and moan.” 

He nibbles along her shoulder and for a few seconds she gives in, then gently pushes at his shoulder. 

“No...Maul, stop.”

Thankfully he does, and he leans up to look down at her with a cocked eyebrow. 

Ahsoka lets out a breath. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He frowns at her, and for a moment she thinks of just giving in, to let herself sink into this pleasure and deal with all of this in the morning. But that would only make things worse. 

“Because, we’re not…we’re not together anymore.”

He stares at her a bit long for her liking, then sneers and pulls away, she sits up as fast as she can and looks at the heavily tattooed and bruised man.

A part of her regrets her choice to stop it, but it was the right thing to do.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. What more could she say to him? 

His fists clench and teeth gritted, but he looks away from her, and says in the most broken and angry voice she has ever heard. “Just go.”

Her heart breaks, she’s so tempted to get closer and touch him again, to stay, but both were bad options right now. 

It would be best if she left.

“Ok.” She says a bit louder then a whisper, and packs her things away before picking up her coat and putting it back on. She grabs her bag and heads to the door, pausing on handle. “My number hasn’t changed,” Her voice now louder, enough for him to hear from the distance. “Please, contact me if you need anything.”

She’s met with silence, and takes that as her que to leave.

 ----------------------------------------------------------------

She holds it all in on the way home, as she puts her shoes at the doorway and walks to her room, putting the bag down at her desk and changing into pyjamas. When she hits the bed does she let all her feelings out, all the crying and whispered sorry’s in her head.

I fucked up.

And she doesn’t know how the hell to fix it.  

[thedarksideofriverdale]

In Unity, There is Strength Part 10

Riverdale Kurtz AU // Werewolf AU // Kurtz X OC

Masterlist

Guide for Creatures and Characters

OC Moodboard

Playlist

//

Zara slowly blinked her eyes open, the sun hitting her face directly. Sighing softly, she turned over to her side and closed her eyes again, trying to grab just a few more minutes of sleep. Suddenly, she snapped her eyes wide open and scrambled to grab her phone. 8:20 am. “Shit!” She clumsily got up from the sleeping bag and saw Kurtz sleeping soundly. How’d they both managed to sleep past their alarms was beyond her, but she went over to the bed and shook him awake. He glared at her but she screamed the time, and he rapidly got out of bed and took off his shirt. Zara looked away, blushing furiously and ran to the bathroom to get dressed. Then, the two quietly went down the stairs and ran out the front door to Kurtz’s car.

Going fifteen over the speed limit allowed them to arrive only ten minutes late to first period. As they were rushing to the front doors, Kurtz stopped Zara at the steps. “What is it?” Zara asked, panting from running.

Kurtz took off his oversized jacket and gave it to her. “Wear it. The wolves will smell me on you, and Veronica will recognize the jacket.”

Zara took the jacket tentatively and put it on. If it was oversized on him, it was massive on her. Kind of made her look like a giant stuffed teddy bear. Bidding Kurtz goodbye, she ran to her first period and stopped at the door. The teacher glared at her, and Veronica scanned her body with squinted eyes. “You may take your seat, Ms. Fatehi.” Zara rushed over to her desk and sat down quickly. “Try not to make this a habit.” Then, he went back to drawing a plant cell.

Putting her fountain pen down, Veronica looked over at Zara again, which Zara saw through her peripheral vision. Veronica said nothing, which made Zara nervous. Once the morning classes were over, Zara walked over to Kurtz’s locker. “Veronica saw the jacket. She didn’t say anything, but I’m nervous. How do I lie effectively to a pack of wolves?” she whispered. She bit her lip in worry.

Kurtz shut his locker and replied, “Don’t stutter when you lie. They’ll sense it regardless, of course, but as I said before, first relationship jitters. But, if you’re nervous on top of the lie, then our cover is blown.”

“I understand, I guess,” Zara said, nodding her head. “…Ready to see if it works?” In response, Kurtz grabbed her hand and dragged her to the cafeteria. Zara walked with widened eyes but let him drag her. When they came to the cafeteria entrance, Zara wanted to leave. Everyone at her table was looking at the pair. Most likely, Veronica told them about the jacket. But, the plan needed to work. So, Zara strode in with her head held high and her hand still in Kurtz’s. “Hi guys. You mind if Kurtz joins us?” she asked with a small smile.

When Betty said no, Archie simultaneously said yes. The two looked at each other for a minute, and Betty looked back at Zara and smiled. “Of course, he can sit.” Zara had no appetite and neither did Kurtz, so they looked around the table awkwardly as everyone ate.

Veronica set her fork down slowly and looked up at Zara and Kurtz. “So, what’s the deal with you two?” she asked with a smirk. “One minute, you’re glaring at each other in the hospital and now, holding hands and Zara, are you wearing his jacket?” Zara looked down at the black jacket and blushed, which made Veronica smirk.

“Um, well...” Zara started.

“We’re dating,” Kurtz stated bluntly. Zara shut her mouth and nodded. “Got a problem, Lodge?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No! No problem at all. Just very surprising,” Veronica replied. Archie, on the other hand, clenched his hand around his fork, glaring at Kurtz. “Oh Archiekins, what’s wrong?” Zara flinched at the awful nickname and looked over at Archie to see that he hadn’t changed his stance. Maybe, Kurtz was right...

“Drop it, Ronnie,” Archie replied, and Veronica furrowed her brows. Betty and Jughead were silent during the altercation, looking at each other awkwardly. Meanwhile, Kurtz was smirking to himself, and Zara glared at him for doing so. The lunch plan only angered the alpha more, so Zara didn’t see how this fake relationship thing would work in her favor. She then cleared her throat and said, “Can we just forget this and talk about important things? Like the fact that I almost got mauled by a worshiper of some evil overlord. Do we know anything about a ‘dark lord?’”

“We know that he would grant powers to his followers committing the sacrifices, “ Jughead replied. “But, I don’t know how that would work. We’ve never had magic in Riverdale.”

“No, but Greendale does,” Kurtz added. “A few of my betas lived there. They had families of witches and warlocks. I can find out information.”

Zara looked over at him and then leaned in quickly to whisper, “You never told me about this.”

Kurtz ignored her and said, “I’ll contact the families tonight.”

Jughead nodded and said, “That sounds like a good plan. Archie?”

Archie was still glaring but less stiff. “Sounds okay to me,” he gritted out. “Be sure to tell us everything and not lie to us,” he added, looking over at Zara. In response, the girl sank in her seat. She had a hurt expression on her face which didn’t go amiss by Kurtz, who rapidly got up from the table.

Zara looked up at him in surprised as he said, “Listen, I understand that Zara is important to you, but you should let her live her life and date who she wants to. Stop being a control freak. Alphas are leaders, not dictators. Understand the difference.” Kurtz then strolled off, the people at the table gaping at him as he walked off. In order to avoid any unwanted conversations, Zara followed him out. He stood at the end of the hallway next to the trophy case. She ran to him, and he turned to face her.

“What was all that about?” Zara asked.

Kurtz looked at her with hooded eyes. “I have to protect my girlfriend, don’t I? Even from her friends.”

“But-“

“Shh, they’re listening,” he whispered. He grabbed her hand, and the two went outside. “I have to make it believable,” he said, taking a seat at a bench.

“I don’t think it’s working. The pack looks more divided than ever!” Zara exclaimed, worried by the outcome of lunch.

Kurtz rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t the entire pack. That was your alpha being a possessive asshole. You know, I really wondered why he kept you around. You’re a human with no relationship to anyone. You’re not really the brains of the operation; Jughead can easily fill that position. No, Archie kept you around to be his bitch.”

Zara got up from the table in anger. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You know it’s true. Veronica is a liability to him, being the daughter of a hunter. Archie can’t hope to make her his mate, as one would be called in wolf dynamics. You’re his second choice. Plan B. I know you respect this pack, but do you respect how the alpha treats you?”

“He has done nothing to me.”

“Not yet, at least. I know a murderous wolf when I see one. He can’t stomach the fact that another boy looked your way, let alone dating one.” Kurtz then got up and circled around the table to be next to Zara. “He wants to possess you. Are you going to let him?” Instead of replying, Zara grabbed her backpack from the ground and walked back into the building.

After school got out, Zara informed Kurtz that she wanted to work with Betty and Jughead on the case today to feel productive. Remembering their agreement in the hospital, Kurtz opted to stay as well, which made Betty and Jughead uncomfortable. Nonetheless, they worked without any problems in the office for the school newspaper. Of course, Zara didn’t want to say it to herself, but Archie was the source of all of the conflict. If he was just content with being with Veronica…

“None of the families want to speak with me,” Kurtz said, cutting Zara out of her thoughts. “They blame me for their sons’ deaths…” Kurtz looked down at his lap, not meeting Zara’s eyes.

“Well, we can find an alternative,” Jughead suggested. “We could always go to Greendale.”

“And ask who, Juggie? The witches don’t like being public about their magic amongst nonmagical people,” Betty said. “Aside from Greendale, do we have any other leads? I compiled a list of potential targets, which is extensive. There’s no way the ‘dark lord’ can make it through this list.”

“But, you forget that he has magic,” Zara said.

Betty frowned and added, “He’s been making regular people commit the sacrifices. Who’s to say he does have magic?”

“Or maybe, he’s building a loyal follower base. Granting them magic if they do one kill for him,” Kurtz suggested. “I’ll head to Greendale over the weekend,” he added, getting up from his chair.

“Whoah wait,” Zara said, stopping him. “What makes you think they’ll talk to you face-to-face when they won’t receive your calls?” Zara got up from her chair and walked over to him. “You can’t do this alone,” Zara said quietly, looking up at him.

Jughead cleared his throat and said, “I’ll go with him, Zara. I want to solve this case as much as you do, and it’ll be fun to see a new type of supernatural.”

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