#it has it's vices but its faster than typing everything up by hand so *shrug*

[just-a-pollicle]

heres all of the episodes of The Wrong Cat Died podcast that I've transcribed so far so you don't have to listen to them lol

bonus/live episodes are listed as .5's to keep them in chronological order

[clonewarslover55]

Could I request some darth maul fluff/smut? Where his fem s/o is feeling playful and wants to play hide and seek/chase instead of training. Maul obliges because he finds the predator/prey aspect a turn on. And when he finds her it turns into romantic smut?

Absolutely!! I’ve never written for Maul before so hopefully I got his character right. 

Cat and Mouse  

Darth Maul X ForceSensitive!Fem!Reader  //NSFW//  //SMUT//

Notes: This is before Maul got cut in half. So no robodick, sorry. Just some good ol’ regular Zabrak dick. This is also sort of a master and apprentice relationship, but there is no big age gap. I don’t do relationships where one character is far older than the other. Also in this Maul lives in some fancy palace type place, because he is a classy bitch. 

Warnings: Predator and prey chase, extreme teasing during the chase. Maul dirty talks constantly. !SMUT! Unprotected sex! Please be safe everyone! Maul is a teasing bitch. Darth Maul is kinky in my opinion, but his kinky side doesn’t really show in this. Language. Maul is secretly a sweetheart 

Maul slowly walked around the gardens, only clad in a pair of dark pants. “Darling…...Where are you? You have training.” Maul sighed when he heard no reply, he knew you were hiding somewhere. You and Maul had been together for a while, then he noticed that you were force sensitive. Once you two figured that out he began to train you. 

Dating the man that was training you in the ways of the force had its perks. You two would often play games. Well the games were mostly you trying to find new ways to rile up Maul. Today you wanted to see how he would handle hide and seek, also known as cat and mouse. 

Maul closed his eyes and hummed to himself, “Alright I will play your little game of cat and mouse. But I hope you know there will be punishment for this distraction.” You shivered at his smooth voice. “Promises promises my master.” He heard your voice come from behind him. 

Maul whipped around just in time to see you flee into his large palace. He growled and quickly ran after you, the adrenaline and excitement already pumping through his two hearts. He didn’t want to admit how much he was already enjoying this game, it was quite a turn on for him.

You hid in the library, the excitement of the chase making you jittery. You were enjoying this much more then you should be, the wetness that was ruining your underwear was a clear indication of that. You knew Maul was enjoying this as well, or else he would’ve found you by now. 

Maul slowly walked down the large hallways, his bare feet hardly making a sound on the stone floors. He was getting more and more impatient by the second. His cock was hard in his pants, and it was making itself quite known. Maul huffed to himself, he knew the moment he found you he would fuck you then and there. 

He entered the library, his steps soft and calculated. “My heart, I can smell your desire.” His voice was a gruff growl, and it nearly made you cum right there. You forgot that he has a very keen sense of smell, so he knows exactly where you are.  “You might as well just give up.” He purred out, causing you to smile mischievously. You swiftly removed everything but your bra and panties before stepping out into the open. 

You watched as he bared his teeth seeing you, he was definitely riled up. You giggled and threw a book at him before running out of the library quickly. The book hit him in the face, letting you get a headstart. Maul growled and ran after you, no longer holding back. You ran up a flight of stairs quickly, and he followed right behind you. 

You ended up doing something very stupid. You looked over your shoulder. You screamed out, not in fear, when you saw how close Maul was to catching you. He smirked when you screamed, “You better save your voice.” More wetness flooded your core at his words. 

Maul nearly grabbed you as you ran into his very large bedroom. You went to run into the freshers but Maul is a lot faster than you. You screamed as he tackled you onto the bed, landing directly on top of you. “Son of a bitch!” You yelled out laughing, happy that he won. 

He was panting, obviously just as worked up as you. You giggled and pecked his lips, “You are very lucky that I love you.” He growled and kissed your neck, his sharp canines grazing your pulse point. “Oh I know.” You ran your fingers along his horns, pulling them some. 

Maul looked you in the eyes and glared at you, “You still need to be punished.” You nipped his pierced ear, “Do I?” You purred out, causing him to groan. He smirked and sucked a dark love mark onto your neck, distracting you with his magical mouth. 

Maul left dark marks all over your neck and chest, claiming you once again. Your head was thrown back, giving him better access to your throat. You ran your hands along his smooth black and red skin, his strong muscles tensing under your fingers. 

You yelped when he quickly ripped off your panties and bra, “Those were a set!” He chuckled and shrugged, kissing your frown away. He cupped your breasts, rubbing his strong calloused hands over them. He played with your nipples, “I honestly don’t think you should ever wear clothes again. You’re far too beautiful.” Your skin grew even hotter at his praise. 

You were about to ask what your punishment was, but he flipped you over on your stomach before you could speak. “I know how much you love to look at me, my love.” You groaned, “That’s mean.” Maul chuckled and kissed your shoulders. 

He held you on your hands and knees, your face buried in the soft blankets on the bed. Maul took his time kissing along your spine, making sure to bite here and there. You yelped when he nipped your ass cheek, causing him to chuckle darkly. 

Maul sat back and looked at your dripping core, moaning at the sight of it. He swiftly removed his pants before pumping his hand along his shaft a few times. He gripped your left hip tightly, his nails digging into your skin. He then used his free hand to play with your sensitive clit some. 

“Tease.” You groaned, causing Maul to slap your ass. You yelped, but even more wetness rushed from your cunt. He ran two fingers against your lips, but he never put his fingers inside you. You whined, “Master.” He paused his movements, “Please.” Maul only hummed slightly in reply. 

He leaned over you, his warm skin pressing against your back, “Will you be a good girl for me?” You nodded, “Yes master! I will be, I promise!” Maul kissed your neck, “Good.” You gasped when you felt the thick head of his cock pressing against your cunt. 

Maul gripped your hips tightly as he slowly pushed into your soaking cunt. You gripped the sheets and cried out his name, you know how much Maul loved hearing his name during sex. Maul growled and started with a rough quick pace. 

His hips snapped against your ass quickly, causing you to cry out every time they collided. You pushed your ass back against him with every thrust, so he could go even deeper. You felt your orgasm approaching quickly already. 

Maul gripped your hair with one hand as he began to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming messy and rough. You cried out his name and all the cuss words you knew as he used your body as a fuck toy. Your first orgasm hit you hard, causing you to see white. 

You gripped the sheets tighter as Maul kept going, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. Your walls tightened around his cock like a vice, causing Maul to lose more of his composure. You knew he was close by the erotic noises he was making, he was getting pretty loud. 

When Maul came he came with a roar of your name. Your second orgasm hit you harder than the first, causing your cunt to milk his cock for all it had. Maul’s hot cum spilled deep inside of you, some even dripping out. He thrusted his hips a few more times before stopping. He panted, watching the cum drip down your thighs. 

Maul kissed your shoulder before pulling out, then flopping beside you. “Shit.” You mumbled as you rolled over onto your back. Maul propped himself up onto his elbow and kissed you sweetly, “Are you alright my heart? I wasn’t too rough was I?” You shook your head, “You could never hurt me Maul.” He smiled and kissed you again. 

Once you two caught your breaths he sat up, “Would you like to take a hot bath and relax with me?” You nodded and grinned. Maul helped you off the bed and led you into the freshers. 

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Afterward (5/13)

Chicago, Illinois: The Sexton Baby, Connor Rhodes

15 January 2019 | 09:10 Local Time

I have to tell April the truth about the baby. Dr. Halstead needs to know the truth about Connor, and needs to start to free himself from him. And this hospital needs to be cleansed.

-

Back in the hospital, waiting at the nurse’s station and trying to make herself the least visible she can, so as not to draw attention or cause a disruption, Sarah watches for Connor. This is an emergency room, after all, and there are people here in dire need of help, the physical kind, the kind where they could bleed out in the waiting room. She can’t allow someone to be trapped here because her distraction barred them from the help they need.

It takes a while- she has to wait for Will to arrive, looking like he didn’t sleep at all the night before, with Connor’s bloody face at his side. Immediately, his eyes lock on her and his face twists in anger. This time, she feels it. The way the clock speeds up on the wall. The sudden blur around everything as they move so much faster than she can hope to, the clock reaching half-past in the blink of an eye. April’s shift started at six, now the clock is verging on seven, and Connor is staring at her. She doesn’t know if it’s really Connor, though. Not the way he was when he was alive, at any rate. Sarah didn’t know him, but he seems to have been loved, and it’s hard to imagine someone loving an energy so blatantly angry and malicious, to the point that she wonders if he’s beyond saving.

She blinks, and then everything seems normal, except an entire tray of blood vials a nurse had been carrying for blood panels right by where Connor stands collapses to the ground, shattering and spilling and coating the poor woman’s scrubs. She pales and starts spouting apologies, and Connor, Connor looks at her and then he’s gone. 

Sarah needs to take a look at the records, and if she does that now, then she can fix this whole thing sooner rather than later. Every moment she spends failing to learn and plan is another moment where people are hurting. So she finds April, rubs her sweaty palms on her jeans, and asks the question.

“Can I see the records now?”

That gives April pause, and it seems like she’s about to say no, but then she hands Sarah the little tablet in her hand. “I’m about to go on break. You’ve got twenty minutes, okay?”

Twenty. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. Sarah nods and rushes to the nearest private space- the women’s restroom. She barricades herself in one of the stalls, grabs her notebook, and starts at Connor’s records. Fifteen minutes for those, maximum, and then she has five to look at the rest. She puts his name into the system, and mostly she gets his employee information from before he died- blood type, birthday, emergency contact. The contact is listed as Dr. Halstead, which means there was definitely more there than meets the eye. But she’s more interested in his death report, because he apparently died here, at the hospital.

The autopsy says inconclusive.

He died during an active hostage situation in the ED a few months ago. The assumption was that he was shot at some point, but they found his body in the doctor’s lounge, tucked into a corner. No injuries. No bullet wounds. Blood dripping from his nose and mouth and eyes. They couldn’t figure out why. 

This is really bad news. Sarah’s heart is beating out of her chest. Her skin is beginning to crawl. She thinks she might be having her first anxiety attack in years. It isn’t safe here. The hospital needs to be shut down, at least for a while, or more people will die, and in far worse ways than what killed Connor. And Connor’s ghost needs to be freed, if not completely exorcised. And it has everything, everything to do with the spirits haunting April. And if Sarah has to hazard a guess, April and Will aren’t the only ones being haunted. 

She forces herself to take a deep breath. She needs to look at the maternity deaths. But she still can’t draw in a good breath, and it hurts, but she has to look. First, she puts in April’s name, and the records tell her when April’s baby’s heart stopped beating, when she had to have it removed from inside her. The baby, the fetus, physically can’t be the spirit. It’s too small to be the one haunting April. Chills dig into her spine, and Sarah still can’t breathe, and the next thing she knows someone is pounding on the stall door and it might be the thing that killed Connor and has this hospital in its vice grip.

“Sarah? It’s just April. Someone heard you panicking and called the nurses for help. Can you unlock the stall?”

Sarah’s hands are shaking. She doesn’t want to drop the tablet, it’s probably really expensive and then April might get in trouble for letting her see the records in the first place. Why didn’t Sarah even think of that when she asked to see them? She still can’t breathe. Her one hand clutches the tablet white knuckled while the other fumbles at the sliding lock, just barely managing to pull it open and let the tartan door swing towards her. It’s just April, just April standing in front of her with the light shining around her silhouette like something off the silver screen. A heroine. An angel.

“Take a deep breath for me, Sarah. You can do that, can’t you. In, like this, copy me. There you go. Out.”

As hard as she tries to listen, her lungs aren’t cooperating and her notebook is on the floor and she’s probably about to drop the tablet. And the thing that killed Connor is still here, not finished wreaking destruction. 

Fingers are digging into her cheekbones, sharp, and she whimpers before she recognizes that they’re only April’s hands. Something safe and good and not an imminent threat. The touch, the warmth it begins to pour into her veins, helps her start to breathe deeply again. Her lungs still only feel like they’re at half capacity, but she’s starting to breathe and it’s better than just a moment ago, at the very least. She’s able to take a deep breath and start to relax, loosen the tension in her muscles until she’s finally able to fill her chest with precious oxygen and set the tablet on her lap. She doesn’t lean forward to pick up her notebook yet, far too content in the way April’s holding her face like she’s something precious.

“You’re okay,” April says, and Sarah finds herself nodding. “Just keep breathing. Do you wanna talk about what happened?”

She should, but for now, Sarah shakes her head. As soon as April releases her face, Sarah picks up her notebook and returns the tablet. She’s got enough information for now- the baby isn’t Sarah’s, and everyone in this hospital is in grave danger. Her top priority for everyone’s safety is now Connor. Which means she’s got to talk to him, and absolutely Will.

“I think you should take some time off,” Sarah says as they walk out of the bathroom together. “At least until I figure this all out.”

“Sarah, I can’t just- figure what out?”

No matter how she phrases it, she’ll sound crazy. There’s no way around it, especially when talking to those who don’t live in the same world she does. “The thing that killed Connor poses an active danger to everyone in this hospital, including you. Until I can get rid of it, no one should be in the building.”

“Okay, I think you’re overexaggerating.”

April’s voice is clearly dramatized, but she bumps her shoulder against Sarah’s in a way that promises no irritation, no hard feelings if she is. But the thing is, she’s not, and it’s probably going to be difficult to do anything to cleanse the meticulous, strictly controlled hospital environment, but she has to try.  If she did nothing, she’d never forgive herself. Already, she’s trying to figure out what to ask Will, and when. She’d have to isolate him from Connor, but Connor’s reaction could be unpredictable, violent even, and that’s a risk she isn’t sure if she’s willing to take.

She has no choice, though, and  that weighs on her when they get back to the ED and Connor is standing behind Will, a hand reached out as if to touch the stubbly skin of his cheek. It has to hurt, having no way to touch the people around you. She can only begin to imagine the amount of pain he must be in right now.

He comes up to her, this time, and leans against the counter although the edge of his hip sinks through the countertop, a reminder of what he isn’t. There’s so much blood on his spirit. She has the urge to lift her arm and wipe it away, but it just isn’t possible.

“I read your autopsy report,” she tells him.

Connor tilts his head to the side, and people around them begin to move faster. It tightens Sarah’s chest but she refuses to acknowledge it. She can’t and shouldn’t show any reaction to the way he plays with the reality around them.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone,” Connor says softly, his gaze flickering over to Will. “Did the report say how long it took them to find me?”

“Four hours. After the hostage situation ended.”

He nods, and she almost forgets how much power lurks beneath his skin. “I just didn’t want them to focus on me instead of the patients. I thought I would be okay. And then they didn’t even look for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs and sniffles, evidence he’d be crying if he was capable. Sarah’s given the chance to wonder if maybe, she can free him just like this and turn all of her focus to getting rid of the thing that killed him. But as she’s thinking about it, something dark drifts across Connor’s face and he steps back, the clocks slowing now, so everyone around her is stopped in time. He shouldn’t be able to do this.

“I don’t want you to send me away, or to the next plane, or some shit. I need to be here for Will.”

[deputyscreed]

@eli-whitetail

The Judge. Nick’s girl had told him that was the name used by the masked and silent Gun from Eden. The Father’s shadow. The one person Jacob didn’t mind moving between the two settlements because the Judge didn’t pay the animosities between Prosperity and New Eden any notice.

It had taken him a long while. Weeks bleeding into months as he visited Roughneck’s Crag and sat atop its low roof with Sharky and Jerome, catching up on years of missed talks. Beer shared between them and the Judge always there, silent as ever.

The Judge was always the last one there, beer untouched. And Eli would always thank the mysterious figure for the company and listening to him as he stood and headed back to Prosperity for the night. But one day something struck Eli. Maybe it was the hint of a laugh coming from beneath the Judge’s mask; some wise-crack he was retelling about Cheeseburger and some of the Whitetails. He knew that laugh.

So he waited and watched and listened until some foolish hope in him was sure. He was excited, scared and utterly heartbroken for her all in one terrible flood of emotions. The next time Eli sat beside the Judge and noticed that her beer was untouched for the umpteenth time, he looked out at the setting sun and sighed. “Judge … I thought you once told me you didn’t have a nickname, Sam.”

The Judge was careful in all that she did. Very few even knew how to refer to her. Him, her, it. Most settled on ‘that thing’ from Prosperity while those from New Eden deferred to the title that was given to her by Joseph. A title that she hadn’t asked for, but he felt she needed given there was no name to otherwise call her own once they stepped out from the bunker. Samantha Creed had died in those concrete walls. Somewhere, in the midst of those seven years she had finally shaken herself free of all that clung to her from her past.

Or so she told herself.

At night she still saw the faces of those she let down, of those she killed. She may not go by Rook anymore or Creed, but the mistakes of her past haunted her. Joseph could forgive, but she could not. It was easy to slip into the persona of a nameless, faceless asset. That was essentially her role before the Collapse. Only everyone knew her face, and considered her the hero of their resistance. If they knew who she was now .  .  . no, it was for the best. The Judge became a silent observer, intent on never taking up a cause and leading it as she did before. All that followed her, was hell after all, and she’d learned her lesson the first time.

Now and then Joseph would look to her, head tilted as though he wanted to hear her opinion on something. Only for him would she give a shrug of a shoulder or shake of the head. Never would she fully commit for fear of tainting his judgment. While she may be the Judge, it was only for her to act out on the judgement of the Father’s –– not to make that decision for herself. When Joseph went north, leaving her behind to look after the flock, after Ethan, she was lost once more. It was a de-facto leadership role in that she had to keep Ethan in check without taking the place he so desperately craved. Guiding without leading. Controlling without letting him realize. She hated it. Despite her reservations, she did what she could, and when they came, with the book in hand, her heart had nearly broken.

Someone else to be taken in by fate and left to twist in the wind. The Judge knew what awaited them, the apple, the power. It was something she’d already tasted for herself, but she was careful to never use the gift. She didn’t trust herself.

The newcomer returned with Joseph and she felt some peace when he touched her shoulder, only for it to shatter when he so carelessly tossed her to another. Now she was to follow their judgment instead of Joseph’s. So she did as she was instructed, but whenever she wasn’t needed, the Judge didn’t return to New Eden. No, she went to the camp she’d made a short distance outside the gated community, and would spend her time there, alone. A bit like a petulant child, but she was tired. Eventually she was invited to the Crag, to spend time with the others, and after Carmina vouched for her, she was allowed into Prosperity.

Seeing Nick and Kim had nearly ruined her cover, composure broken as she inhaled sharply and took a step forward to greet her old friends before she stopped short. Their lives were not hers to indulge in. She’d closed and locked that door years ago when she chose Joseph over them. The Judge retreated further into her shell and lingered beside the garage where she could hear and sometimes watch Nick work. It was horrible. It hurt to see him, and not be able to speak with him, but she figured this sort of suffering was deserved.

John would’ve been giddy at her acceptance of his ways. Only through an ocean of pain . . .

More and more people gathered at Prosperity. Mostly unfamiliar faces, but too many that she recognized. Grace was blind, and the Judge couldn’t imagine the sniper unable to line up her shots as she once did. The sound in her throat when she first saw the other woman was loud enough to catch her attention. When Grace realized it was the Judge, she’d scoffed and dismissed her. The Judge didn’t approach her a second time.

Sharky had matured in some ways and stayed the same in so many more. He was wary of her, but would talk at the Judge as though she were an ally. Hurk too couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut, nervously saying whatever was on his mind. The mask seemed to freak him out.

It was so strange to see their new lives here, and how she’d once envisioned a future where Hope County would be much the same as it was before, and she’d maybe have been promoted by then. Still spending time with them at the Spread Eagle. That sort of bittersweet daydreaming only made the present hurt all the worse, which was good. No amount of suffering could ever undo what she’d done, but it was a start.

When the Judge was summoned to Prosperity, she went, arriving on foot, silent and making the guards jump. They opened the door for her and she took one step before freezing. Carmina was talking to someone she didn’t recognize. When he turned around, she was –– well, if she weren’t mute already, she would’ve been struck mute then. Eli Palmer.  In the flesh. Alive and well. The Judge’s heart began to beat faster, pounding in her chest until she could barely hear her own thoughts over the rapid thudding. She turned and left, mind reeling with the revelation of what she’d seen. It was always horribly good to see those who survived and were alive from before, but this was different.

He was different.

How could she have not known? Did Joseph know? The others? Had they kept this from her on purpose? The Judge retreats from them, to her home in the woods and stays there for a few days while she gathers her thoughts. Eventually she reemerges at the Crag, to jokes and concerned looks from the others who work alongside the Chief of Security. True to form, she says nothing.

When Eli arrives at their gathering place, she is better prepared for it. Her and Carmina are in the middle of playing a board game –– one in which she’s destroying her godchild at. Both look up and introductions are made officially between the Judge and Eli. She doesn’t say anything, which is laughed off by Hurk as he explains the silent brooding type, “You know.” Being around him is as difficult as it is to linger outside Nick’s shop or hideout on the watchtower within earshot of Sharky, but she does it anyway. The time spent with friends, even if they have no idea who she is, gives her a sick sense of inclusion. Of belonging. She doesn’t deserve that, but she takes it anyway. As selfish now as she was then.

He seems more talkative than he used to be, or perhaps more laid back. She has a hard time remembering anything good from all those years ago, but maybe the world ending had that effect on him. Never does she approach him, but she will nod or give a half-hearted grunt when he speaks to her. Eli doesn’t ask questions, and is none the wiser, speaking at her and reminiscing without realizing how much she too remembers. She was there. The Judge worries about giving herself away around him. It’s too easy to let her guard down.

Her fears seem unfounded until one day he approaches her and takes a seat beside her. She tries to maintain a height advantage, always on the top floor or in a tree so she has a clear line of sight with the bow. A weapon she had no skillset in until Eli had come along. Her feet dangle over the edge of the second floor landing, able to see the north west and south sides from this vantage point.

Slowly she tilts her head, gazing at him through the eyeholes of the mask. It’s an inquisitive gesture, paired with her waiting for him to break the silence because she won’t.

“Judge . .  . I thought you once told me you didn’t have a nickname, Sam.”

Everything seems to freeze around her. The wind stills, leaves no longer rustling. Distant birdcalls are now silent. Time stops. Sam slowly looks away from him, leaning forward until her chest touches the top of her thighs and she breathes out a distorted gasping sound. With that exhale, she hears the birdsong in the trees once more. It was stupid of her to think that Eli wouldn’t recognize her. That he wouldn’t realize who she was and put the pieces together.

She straightens up and turns towards him, wishing she could say something, anything. Even if she knew what to say she couldn’t. There’s a vice around her throat, emotion tightening it down further. She reaches out, hand hovering above his knee, but unable to commit to actually touching him. It’s not a right she feels has been given, and so she snatches her hand back and shifts away from him –– towards the setting sun. She feels numb, chest hollow and carved out. Sam shakes her head, lips pressed into a thin line beneath the mask.

“Title.” The one word is like sandpaper on gravel. Raspy, and more grating than anything, but that’s what happens when you scream yourself hoarse for years in a bunker and then stop speaking altogether for even longer after that.