#maul x original character

[omaano]

"The passion of lovers is for death"

Thank you @mauls-waifu for commissioning me for this painting <3

[maulfucker]

If you look at my blog it might seem like I only care about Satine as an accessory to my pet toxic yaoi ship, but I do actually care about her as a character who could've been so much more interesting than the very basic characterization they gave her. I've said this before and I maintain it - she should've been a pacifist with a gun. defending that pacifism applies to institutions and governments not to individuals. she should've worn mandalorian armor and she should've kept her blasters eternally set to stun but still visibly carried blasters. she should've punched pre vizsla in the face. she should've punched maul in the face. she should've been padmé's idol, a role model for what she could've been. not impulsive and lovesick like padmé, not willing to risk her life or forgive anything for love like padmé, but a powerful politician who cared for her people and her culture and wouldn't hesitate to pick up a blaster if she had to.

[honeyed-pines]

it’s not uncommon to find these two together, even when the 66th Battalion is on shore leave. their general said something about devoting time to meditation, but clearly had other plans.

— jedi maul au + commander strife

[bossboudicca]

omg a wild star wars oc

i've been watching some videos and learning new techniques, so naturally i spent all night on this. this is So'ten, my original character from the 'Symbiotic' fic.

(can you tell which SWTOR companion she's the daughter of? I'll tell you below // also the full image and other things beneath)

she's malavai quinn's kid. and YES i'm aware moles aren't genetic but it's just my little homage to him.

you're my dad boogie woogie woogie

[dissonantia-goddess-of-chaos]

Omninoxus, Goddess of the Abyss, the Void Eater

Aliases: Omni, Omninox, the Queen, the Dark Empress, Mother of All Blackholes, World Devourer, Darkness Supreme, Mistress of the Void, the Silence, Diamond of the Abyss, Abysmal Ruler, All Devouring, Death

600 feet tall (with heels)

Omnipresent, omniscient, omnipotent

Her eyes hold galaxies, nicknamed the “Twin Galaxies”

Known as the “All Devouring” by her people due to her insatiable appetite, consuming anyone and everything

She absorbs all light due to her dark form

Her eyes, nails, teeth, and aura glow pure white

Created her own subjects, called Noxians (or the Nox), and home planet named “Ateron”, which is double the size of our Jupiter

Omninoxus’ throne and temple/palace is located on the surface of Ateron, perfectly carved out of the largest mountain on the planet. In front of the giant throne is a grand arena for orchestrated performances and gladiator battles are held for the goddess’s entertainment

There is a hexagon-shaped platform near the throne that Omninoxus can lift using her telekinesis, used by people who came to her to have audience with the queen

Nox, or Noxian for singular, are intelligent, good-neutral beings created in Omninoxus’ image, each individual unique in appearance and personality

They live in an advanced society with order and peace, working together to further improve the present for the next generation

The Nox often trade with travellers who are brave enough to venture out into the outer reaches of the multigalaxy

She has a pair of long arms that reach the ground, and a normal length pair

She has a floor-length translucent black veil with two rings of white stars on top, and can disintegrate or change it into a solid black cloak

Based on black holes found in outer space

Callous, affectless, cautious, and arrogant

Due to her extreme reality bending powers, she is able to alter the timeline of events itself, including seeing/traveling to the past, present, and future

But she doesn’t bother changing it unless it directly affects her or her people

She is “younger than time itself”

Her subjects are highly immune to most, if not all, diseases and bacteria throughout all of outer space

Ateron is located beyond the edge of the abyss of space away from potential enemies

The Nox, however, do not live on the surface of the planet, but within it using underground tunnels and cities that are hundreds of miles long; only 25% of Ateron is discovered by its own native inhabitants

Ateron has rich soil and drinkable water, and is rich with a natural metal named “Noxite”, which is highly absorbent and durable—great for armors and weapons

Noxian botanists will study and crossbreed native plant species with foreign ones to create new and better subspecies

The Nox have been using highly durable camouflaged spaceships to travel all over the galaxies, and have built hidden portals on several planets to have easier and faster transportation (which needs DNA samples or “visitor chips”, microchips injected underneath the skin for non-Nox users, to use)

Despite being 600 feet tall, the goddess can make herself much, much, much bigger in order to consume beings larger than her

She is able to produce a physical copy of herself around 5”11 ft tall to walk among mortals in different parts of the galaxy

She actually had a lot of suitors during her lifetime. She ate all of them

She probably would eventually find companionship, but it has to be someone who is special, chosen by fate to alter the course of destiny. Like Anakin Skywalker or Abeloth.

She doesn’t mind the solitary lifestyle; the Nox, whom she views as her children, are all the company that she needs

Finds most diseased mortals to have a “fishy taste”

Most parasites end up disintegrating once they enter her or Noxian bodies

It has been found that the Nox have the ability to “breathe” in space for long periods of time, due to their bodies adapting to the harshness of their spacial and hostile environment

The Nox have been using Cortosis and other durable and absorbent metals along with Noxite for armor, piercing weapons, and building materials

The home planet has a breathable atmosphere created by the native flora

The Nox are omnivores, but most species (including Humans) are not part of their diet

The goddess is not a Force Sensitive user due to being “born” outside of the Force, gaining her powers from the cosmos themselves

However, the Nox can be Force Sensitive users, and have temples and gymnasiums designed for training and meditation

Starweirds avoid spacecrafts and Ateron in general; it is speculated that Omninoxus emits a powerful and petrifying aura that repels most enemies

Omninoxus can be sitting and staying still on her throne for long periods of time, appearing to be asleep or in deep thought

The Nox have a lifespan of 100 to 1,000 years, aging slowly

Before complete death, elder Noxians have their memories and experiences written down to place in an online archive for future generations to read. All knowledge is valuable.

Noxian bodies are great fertilizer, filled with nutrients and minerals for bountiful harvests, but consent from the deceased’s family is required in order to be used

Most industrial, fishing, agricultural, animal husbandry, and forestry jobs are located on the surface of Ateron while mining, business, research, educational, and other miscellaneous jobs are located in the underground cities and communities

Landing platforms and airports are also built on the surface

Ateron has its own army, which is made up of young and strong men and women who have undergone heavy training in the arts of hand-to-hand combat, swordsmanship, weapon handling, strategic planning, and guerrilla warfare. It is highly recommended for soldiers to be single and childfree, and to meditate on their choices before enlisting

Native fauna:

Aterdrogans: Massive serpentine-like space dragons with sleek muscular bodies covered in hard scales and thick skin, harden horns of various sizes and shapes, ten eyes, six limbs with sharp talons, long tails, sharp fangs, large leathery wings, and can breathe hot plasma instead of fire. In ancient texts, Aterdrogans are descendents of Omninoxus herself (who is said to take on the form of a colossal Aterdrogan abomination), created to be Ateron’s natural defense against galactic intruders. These magnificent beasts share the same intelligence as Noxians yet follow their instincts to survive in the wild. They share a special bond with the Nox, finding companionship with their smaller allies, even sometimes willingly train alongside the army. Aterdrogans are apex predators who live in the mountain ranges, where they mate for life and raise hatchlings.

Night Prowlers: Large Pantherinae and Mastiff-like beasts that hunt in the forests of Ateron. Their sleek black fur helps them stay hidden in the shadows during nightfall, with padded paws aiding them in stealth attacks. They leave very little remains of their prey, and larger Night Prowlers are known for devouring small prey whole to conserve energy. Due to their sensitive eyes, Night Prowlers stay away from bright lights and fires. They are hunted by the Nox for their tender meat, sturdy bones, and rich pelt.

Stalker Pythons: Long and thick constructor boas that can grow up to 50 feet long and four feet wide. Their scales can range from tones of green, brown, and on rare occasions, orange. They re found mostly in the tropical and swamp biomes of Ateron. Their infamous characteristic, and the one that makes them so terrifying, is the tendency to stalk their prey from a distance, using their strong sense of smell to track down prey and avoid predators. Unfortunately Stalker Python hide isn’t strong enough to protect itself from strong claws or weapons. They have adapted to avoid Noxian civilization, but go after foreign travelers. There is a harmless and docile subspecies of pythons that have been nicknamed as “Leather boas”, which are bred and raised for their thick skins.

Direboars: Huge wild boars that roam the forests and wetlands of Ateron, and are known to be extremely territorial and aggressive towards anyone and anything, even other direboars. They are muscular and have thick hide that is hard to pierce, but have soft underbellies that are susceptible to traps. Their tusks are very dense and don’t break off as easily. Known omnivores, they will eat anything that is edible, including poisonous flora that causes their saliva to become venomous if ingested or in contact with open wounds. A domesticated subspecies called “Mudboars” are raised for meat.

Singing Peacemakers: Elegant and beautiful birds that resemble hybrids of an eagle and white dove that are found in most forest habitats. Their melodies and sounds resemble the notes of a flute. Peacemakers are named after the calming and peaceful effect one feels when hearing its song. They are beloved by Noxians and are great pets for lonely and miserable souls.

Deathswallows: A mixture of raven, owl, and vulture, these massive birds often eat the remains of carcasses, including bones. Their black and grey feathers are often collected for designer clothing and jewelry. Despite being viewed as bad omens, the Nox don’t hunt deathswallows. These birds are simply the garbage collectors of the animal kingdom.

Abyssal Watchers: Massive aquatic creatures that resemble the hybrid of longer and fatter Liopleurodons and blue whales. Their bumpy skin is dark green to camouflage in the waters of Ateron’s ocean, and are silent hunters that prey on the planet’s more larger aquatic creatures. Thankfully, only few members of this species exist, and all appear to be female. They do have a habit of swallowing research submarines (don’t ask how they are retrieved). Reference 1 2 3

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[thegreatwicked]

WIP Title Game

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks for the tag @split-spectrum! Lord, my WIPs are not quite out of control BUT there are quite a few of them! I'll divide them up into two categories; fanfiction and original!

Fanfiction:

Armitage (Hux x OC)

In Service to the Night Sisters (Opress Brothers x OCs)

Moonlight Rendezvous (Maul x OC)

Padawan (Obi-Wan x Reader Insert)

50 Shades of Obi-Wan (Obi-Wan x Reader Insert)

Unbreakable Bonds (Obi-Wan x OC)

The Generals Wife (Hux x OC)

Take off the Mask, Baby (Roman Sionis x Reader Insert)

Healing Hands (Jason Todd x OC)

Claiming the Red Hood (Jason Todd x OC)

Bayou and the Burrow (Charlie Weasley x OC)

Read to Me (Matt Murdock x OC)

We Were Cursed (Jefferson/Mad Hatter x OC)

It's No Good (Soldier Boy x OC)

Second Son (Soldier Boy x OC)

Tribute to the Horde (Dothraki OC x OC)

1001 Nights of Mischief (Loki xOC)

Professional Courtesy (DC Captain Cold x OC)

Forgive Me (Malik x OC)

Binding (Malik x OC)

Originals:

Call Me Love

Thanks for the Ride

Eternally Yours

Dive

Not your Fucking Grieving Widow

All works listed above are smut and not meant for anyone under 18. Lord give me strength to get through these WIPs before more appear!

No pressure tags! @hereticpriest @decembermidnight @burnthecheshirewitch @keffirinne @daenerys-skywalker @chaotickimchi @viskarenvisla @maulfvckers

Lets see those WIPs!

[lune-de-miel-au-paradis]

Collision

Summary: Maul and Nina have their first fight. Both of their lack of communication and trust issues show up. It’s long and heated. 

Pairing: Darth Maul x OC Nina Cerasus

Warnings: Mention of wounds, medication, anxiety, mutual pining, miscommunication, idiots in love, angst (Let me know if I left out something.) Minors DNI! Every sentence in italics is an inner monologue.

AN: This fic means a lot to me and I worked on it a lot. If you have any advice or comments, please share them with me kindly. I'm posting for the first time in years and I don't want nasty comments to discourage me from posting again. Remember it’s a slow burn! If you don't like it, please go to another blog. I did my best to translate it, so pls forgive me, English is not my first language.

Please enjoy reading!

previous chapter

divider by the lovely Saradika

“Get out of my head if you can’t face me in person!”

Maul heard her firm words toward him. She didn’t even turn, just stared at the landscape.

Earlier that day Maul was meditating by the lake, deeply hidden in the forest of Naboo. 

Rays of sunlight danced warmly on his tattooed chest. This time, thanks to the pleasant weather, he only wore his black pants.

Being in nature meant that one of the purest manifestations of the Force could be felt more strongly and unobtrusively. He could feel it in the soft grassy ground, the gentle trickle of the water, the leaves of the trees and all the living things that were nearby, whether in the lake or in the sky. He could sense the mossy smell of approaching summer in the air.

The Force hummed around Maul, which helped him go deeper in his meditation, helped him concentrate and see and feel everything more clearly. It was as if he saw everything he wanted to see through a crystal mirror.

Zabrak was preoccupied with so many things. His mind was filled with questions that he knew he could not address to his Master. Most revolved around a young woman with particularly green eyes.

The appearance of Nina in the last few days caused a serious disturbance in the relationship that bound Maul to the Force. 

It felt like taking a wrong turn off his path, a misstep from his goal. 

For once, he didn't understand the path he was on, he saw the final outcome towards the big Greatness only as a very uncertainty. 

He had been sitting upright, eyes closed, motionless since coming from the hospital. From the outside, he looked like a statue. A fearsome warrior stuck and frozen in time. Awaiting the adequate moment of awakening, the command to act, spilling filthy Jedi blood.

In his mind, he held the fragments of memories stolen from Nina like pieces of a puzzle. He tried to match and interpret them chronologically. He knew exactly what he was searching for. A presence of his Master. For that unmistakable characteristic, immense kind of darkness. It’s so intense he sometimes even tastes it on his tounge.

He found himself disappointed. Nina was not in contact with his Master, or at least not in these bit’s he could see in her mind. That's why he continued to look at the memory fragments continuously. Scrutinizing every moment. Childhood memories filled with light, music and stars. There weren't many of those. He saw fingers on piano keys, on a telescope, among holobooks. He sensed the smells of paint and sweet cherry. A colorful scarf, a woman's laugh, a gentle caress. Neon lights, bitter taste of alcohol and dancing in bars. Smiling girl with pink hair. An older lady sits with tea in her hand, her face tired but peaceful.

These were followed by memorial images that were imbued with grief and sorrow. A little girl clings to a man -but Maul see this one quite blurry- 

"Don't go! Stay! We need you!" cried the little girl. The man just shook the little girl off him. "This will be the best my little Comet." 

The visions then became vivid of a woman lying on a bed, pale and obviously ill. He felt a strong hand gripping the arm of the little girl he had just seen, albeit already older. "I'm not ready to leave yet! I don't want to leave you my little Star!" 

Maul could feel the fear and panic emanating from the little girl. She was traumatized and understandably horrified by the woman's death, since she was too young to see and understand the occurrence of another death.

Other memories were not particularly significant. 

He noticed a pattern. After each bad memory the next one was more and more vague, confusing and short. He concentrated and with the Force guidance he manipulated them to see them in his mind over and over again, like a holofilm with big breaks. Every rift was dark, filled with anger and grief. He probably accessed and stole some of Nina’s deeply repressed memories. 

He also saw fragments of today's event, her mind showed him. He felt Nina's fear, but her firm resistance when she was attacked today in the city. He saw the attacking Clawdite's face. He saw another man, a man with forest green eyes. He looked at Nina with angry and deep hatred. Who could he be? What if his Master made some sort of deal with the young woman but erased his presence to hide it from Maul? Maul learned a long time ago that he can't be suspicious or careless enough when it comes to his Master’s mind games. 

Pondering the memories didn't solve anything or answer Maul's further questions. He needed to know more. He was sure that there was some significance to their meeting. He felt conflicted. 

He formed a plan. When the starry night reclaimed its territory above the daylight, he dressed and left the lake and the old villa behind. He knew the location of her apartment downtown, but something told him deep inside that he didn't have to go that far for Nina. So Maul decided to rely on the Force, which would lead him to the young woman eventually.

He barely reached the edge of the forest when he saw her. In the darkness, he watched her carefully from among the trees, like a shadow.

Maul didn’t know the answer why but seeing Nina being hurt and vulnerable angered him, made his breathing hard, his hands were both forming thigh fists on his sides. He saw her small form facing him with her back.

Her hair was still a bit damp from an earlier shower, her braid slightly sticking to the back of her a loose knit sweater that evoked the colors of the dawn. Under the sweater her dress was green.

He was so close he could hear her heart breathing which was slow, slower than a normal human heart should beat. Her scent filled his nostrils. Cherry, almonds and mint tea. This time it was more fresh and it mixed with the sweetness of the milla flowers that bloomed at night on Naboo. He closed his eyes, he memorized her nosie, just being and breathing quietly. He liked it. The sound of her existence made him feel light in a way. As if despite all the bad things that happened in the universe, her existence was the only good thing. As suspicious as she made him, Maul had to admit that she still had a peaceful effect on him. He felt an unfamiliar warmth, which was not anger, it was soft.

This kind of feeling of lightness surrounded him, and weighed on his soul. He felt it since they both shook hands a few nights earlier. Then the Force infused this warmth, this lightness, into Maul's being through her touch. This, among others, piqued his interest. That it was the Force or Nina herself? What is the purpose of this? And why right now, before the Great Plan is starting its steps set into motion? If it’s the Force is it prue or is it manipulated by his Master?

He had so much to lose, and he was not ready to fail. He needed more information, and quickly before this wave of new emotions washed over him and made a damage that will be incapable of improving by him.

He needed to dig deeper in her mind, search for more information that’ll answer this feeling he has, and take it.

If he wants to get what he needs to make sense for this whole situation, he has to be ruthless. Yes, he was too weak, too compassionate last time with her. How pathetic of him, that he let Nina get under his skin even for a pathetic minute. To let her be a wedge between him and his revenge, and him and between his destiny: power and greatness. Maul would have chosen these, and sacrificed everything for these without second guessing until now..... 

Why would Nina have an intention with him if this is not a test? What could he offer other than serving his Master's Great Plan? Nina does not fit into this goal, to his life. Yet he wants to be with her. What a conflicting situation…

He was there again. She felt him before she saw him.

He was there. Calm, Collected and powerful energy surrounded the air.

She waited to fill her lungs with the fresh night air, then she spoke, her back still facing him. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her sweater, she didn't even notice she was crying. The moon phases tattooed on her back were slightly visible to him.

She felt something in her mind, barely noticeable, shadowy dark hands with clawed ends tried to reach into her thoughts. They were so careful that Nina almost failed to recognize the strange sensation.

“Get out of my head if you can’t face me in person!” she ordered the darkness. 

He didn’t answer, instead she heard his barely audible soft footsteps coming closer. 

“One is a coincidence, twice is a pattern. What should we call the third occasion?” she said and plucked off a cluster of fragrant jasmine, elegantly lifting it to her nose, inhaling its sweet scent, then fiddling with the flowers in her hands.

First the Pantheon club, then her favorite place by the lake, and now the garden that extends towards the forest and becomes one with the backyard of her home. She wasn’t sure if the hospital visit was real or a vivid fever dream.

“Fate.” His voice was velvety like a lover's touch.

He stepped next to her and began to admire the dawn, whose colorful lights slowly brightened from the obsidian dark night, but even the first rays licked their silhouette warmly. She chuckled softly and turned to Maul, leaning her hips against one of the rock walls.

"You might be able to convince me of coincidences, but you'll never convince me that you believe in fate. It's an ideal for dreamers and romantics. Something says you're not one to be one of them, Maul."

“You’re injured..” Instead of an answer, he just said this, referring to the bandage on the girl's hairline and the bruises on her body.

The deep, rich voice brushed over her skin like a dark whisper, followed by a shiver that meant equal parts of waring and pleasure. She recognized it immediately; she heard it only two times in her life, but it was enough to etch itself into her memories. It was unforgettable, just like the owner of it. 

“You have a talent to turn every question into an observation.” 

“Who did this to you?” he asked, faceing her, his glooming irises searching for her green ones.

“So you were worried about me then?” she asked in a teasing playful tone.

It was not a worry he felt, because there was no bond nor fondness. He felt some sort of curiosity mixed with lust and a little amount of amusement for her. The Force tried to tell him something he yet could not understand, that was the part that made him curious. The problem was that she was not immune to the touch of darkness. So he couldn’t know her without being familiar with her acts and the way she uses truth and information.

“I’m merely curious.”

“Let’s just say this attack was a response to my bold move. The consequences of my decisions.” she shrugged her shoulders.

“Why did all of her answers have to be so nonsensical, yet suggestive at the same time?” he thought.

Maul started to lose his patience toward this situation and toward Nina he wanted answers, and he wanted them now. 

“Why did that man want you to quit? Who is he? And why did you get attacked after talking with him?” he asked in a demanding tone. 

Maul towered over Nina like a hungry sinister shadow, dressed in black to the feet, scrutinizing the young woman's movements and the micro-mimics of her words from under his hood.

“What? How did you..?  Were you spying on me?!” Nina's voice dripped with surprise and Maul could feel the distrust in her with a hint of fear. This filled him with satisfaction.

Nina’s posture shifted, she didn’t step back, she stretched and straightened her spine and shoulders, looking like a cobra before biting.

"I thought you made it clear in our first conversation that you weren't some sort of stalker."

"I am waiting for my question to be answered." Maul said.

The condescending style of tone irritated Nina. Jade eyes were searching for him. She tossed the jasmine branch away. She let it fall down into the depths towards the waterfalls that surrounded her planet. She touched the upper side of her arm, where the fall of the sweater allowed her shoulders and upper arms to be seen. It still had the four horizontal and one vertical mark on her pale flesh. Her dad's hand print.

Maul held out his gloved hand. Nina controlled her first reaction to pull away, inhaled as his fingers tingled over her skin. Baerly and almost gently ran over the bruise. She had goosebumps.

"What do you want from me?" she breathed out the question.

Maybe even Maul himself didn't know exactly.

“Everything”-He thought -“I want everything.”

Instead he said this, pulling back his hand.

“Answers. But if it brings you comfort, if I wanted to kill you I would, on our first meeting.”

“Then ask.”

So he did. 

“Do you know my Master?”

“No. Maybe. What is his name?”

Already with the first question, they entered dangerous territory. Nina souldn't even know about Maul's existence let alone his Master’s. She is always so twisted with her words. Maul has to reframe his questions to get the answer implicitly but clearly.

"Did someone pay you to be there that night at the club? And later in the woods."

"No." she answered firmly but raising her eyebrows questioningly.

"So they blackmailed you? They instructed you? Maybe in a message or in person."

"What? No! YOU were the one who came to me that night in case your memory fails you." Nina stepped closer. “ Are you in any kind of trouble?"

"Answer the question!"

"I already did."

"Why don't I believe you then?

“That sounds like a YOU problem.” 

Maul looked at her with such a sternness that it seemed to Nina that the quiet darkness surrounding him was taking physical form. She inhaled and exhaled a long breath.

“So, if I understand  you correctly, you think that I have some sort of ulterior motive toward you? Except, that I find you attractive?”

Maul just stared at her with piercing golden eyes. She read them easily.

“You imply that not only am I some sort of threat but I am a liar too?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. You twist my words.”

“Well, it jolly well sure sounds like it!” she was angry, he could tell. 

Anger was good, familiar. He could work with that. It was a familiar field, an emotion he could cope with.That he could provoke and manipulate just as he pleased.

“Is this an interrogation? Should I call my lawyer? ” she mused.

“Who was that man who sent you to hospital?” he pushed further.

"This is absolutely none of your business! He is nobody.”

Maul stepped closer, intimidation pouring into the young woman's aura. He can't leave room to dodge. He has to take advantage of the opportunity while Nina is still so vulnerable. He lifted her chin with his index finger. 

“That's a lie. Why do you lie, Starlight?

That name again. That voice!

Maul's voice affected her like a seductive melody, menacing yet veiled in the air between them. Endless wild night, darkness and the promise of freedom mixed with violence. Maul was like the dawn around them, a wild and vivid red beam of light penetrating the calm colors of the night. Orange, purple, rich colors of crimson. Nina never knew she had a voice kink. Now he unlocked this in her.

Her heart fluttered. She didn't welcome the feeling in her chest. She needed space but also yearned for the warmth of his darkness. She felt the butterflies flutter inside her. She needed something to distract herself. She needed space as well as distance.

“You are observing me too closely! I’m not a little bug in your palm!” she pushed his hand away.

“Why are you making this much effort to avoid the question? Are you afraid, Starlight? It's a natural emotion, but it makes you seem like a coward.”

He stepped on thin ice of her patience. 

“You call me a coward?! Funny. If the Force using path doesn’t work out, you should be a comedian!” she laughed dryly. “I'm not sure what exactly you want from me to answer. But I have this feeling that no matter what I say, it’ll never go through your thick skull. You already decided about me. Let’s negotiate then. What is it you except from me?”

“I want your confession.”

“A confession? About what? I didn't do anything!” 

“A confession about me. What did you do to me? Why are you holding me back from my path?” he thought silently.

“I know there was a reason behind today's incident. I know you have something planned. I’m interested in who is involved in this case? What is your goal?"

"Stars above! Felix hired you? It's him, isn't it? I succeeded, I found something and now he's afraid. How much did he pay you to get close to me?"

Nina's gaze was surprised and enlightened, her green eyes glittered triumphantly. She surprised Maul with this question. He had to admit, the young woman proved to be a really good negotiator. She had this gift which she apparently used well.

He did not expect such a turn. Or is she just trying to confuse him?

“I was clearly wrong about you.” he said, implying that he thought she was a weak outsider, a beautiful but ordinary person on this planet. 

“It's okay, most people are. They underestimate what I'm capable of.” She held eye contact. 

Realization hit him. Nina won't say anything on her own. But she was clearly hiding something. The time for asking and answering questions has ended. This time, the Force is needed. Maul was annoyed, she was convoluted with her answers and his patience was running out. He was amazed that it had been this far at all.

He stepped closer until Nina was trapped between him and the stone wall. Nina looked back, the stone wall was up to her waist, behind her was only the dark abyss and night, the stars had already started to speckle the sky, the crescents of the moon provided enough light for her to see the male clearly. 

Damn those eyes! she cursed them. She had to force herself to look away. They were so captivating. So pretty. How could she not get hypnotized by them? 

The stone wall separated her from falling down into the chasm, the place where a few nearby waterfalls cascaded. She certainly wouldn't survive. The other way out is to somehow get them through Maul. This solution also seemed unrealistic, the man didn't hurt her, but Nina could feel the blood beating violently in her ears from the adrenaline and her lungs taking in more air.

With a light movement, he swept a few locks from her face, carefully avoiding her freshly bandaged wounds. Meanwhile, he noticed that several lighter freckles were hiding next to the darker ones.

"Are you afraid Starlight?" he asked, voice low but his tone was light and casual just like he was small talking about the weather, insignificant compared to what really interested him at the moment.

"Yes." she said honestly. "But not from you."

Maul lifted his brow. She licked her dry lips.

"More like, afraid of what you're capable of."

"You should be…  But. Do not fear Starlight, this will not hurt, if you let me in.” he said in a calm voice, cupping her face with his gloved hands. 

“What are you doing?”

He closed his eyes and concentrated. He felt her mental walls,as he smoothed the wall around, looking for a gap. They were still weak from the concussion, but he sensed some attempt at resistance, though he slipped in successfully.

This time he avoided the deeply buried memories, concentrating on searching for traces of his Master's presence, any sign that this was a trap. But he found nothing. Nina resisted and pushed him out of consciousness, even if a little clumsily, but Maul still appreciated her attempt more than anyone he'd ever faced. Compared to himself, he was gentle, he did not touch other areas, but there was something that Nina's mind revealed to him unintentionally. The man she was threatened by was her relative. This made her snap. 

A sudden movement jolted him out of his meditative state. She wanted to slap him, but he caught her wrist in the process. 

She was staring at him, she trembled with anger in every cell of her body. Maul couldn't get in deep or full, he saw what she allowed him. Even in weak conditions her mindfulness was strong. She lost her compliant calmness, and she fighted him. 

His hand wrapped around her throat the gold irises that pinned her down burnt like twin suns in the darkness of night. Nina’s hands tore his wrist from her, touching the small part where his cloak and leather gloves don't cover his skin. She shoved at the strong wall of his chest, yet, he didn’ move, he was way stronger than to be pushed by a weak woman like her.

“Don’t kriffing touch me like that”

He searched for her. She was frustrated. He slipped in her mind again, under that frustration he felt her panic, her post traumatic stress. Her attacker tried to suffocate her by squeezing her throat. It was still a fresh memory. She lived it through again now. It was playing on her mind like a holofilm. His expression softened. He slowly removed his hand, and whispered.

“Breathe.” his voice grounded her just like at the hospital. 

He didn’t feel his Master's presence in any way. This calmed him. But when he opened his eyes, he saw her.

Her face flushed, blooming red covered her freckles spreading towards her ears. Her jade green eyes turned dark. She stared at him and if looks could kill, he’d be a dead male by now. He had never seen her this beautiful before. Her beauty became ethereal for him, her anger oosed around them deliciously. Cold fire gleamed in her green eyes. 

“Don’t you ever do this again!” she told through gritted teeth.

Tension twisted between them like an invisible rope, he felt it, as it kept wrapping its limbs around his words and around his neck. It was maddening. Maul felt the urge to push her against the wall, fist her soft hair, claim her mouth and taste her and ignite a fire in his chest.

They were observing each other with cold gaze and anger. None of them had such warmth in their hearts.

“This isn’t the Jedi way!” she breathed hard, panting heavily. Ruby red blood dripped from her nose onto the ground. Probably the side effect of resisting Maul’s telepathic power. " I have to admit I don’t usually like Jedi, and you mister are certainly not fun to be around.”

“I’m no Jedi.” he sounded offended, almost harsh as he snapped at her.

“Says the man with the light saber. So you’re some kind of Force user then?” she raised a brow. 

“A specific kind of Force user.”

“What does this even mean?! So not only Jedi can use and connect to the Force?”

Silence. He made a statement, but didn't add anything to it, and Nina understood that it was a "Leave it !" kind of silence.

“Never mind. Did you at least find what you were looking for, if you've sneaked into my mind so brazenly?”

“Yes and no. I still don’t know what your motivation is.”

“Stars above! You don’t get it! ” she laughed at him. 

Maul lifted his brows; she was clearly a lunatic. Laughing in a Sith's face while it’s cornering her. To laugh in the face of darkness, power, death.

“You still don’t get it! You saw my memories, my thoughts and you couldn’t figure it out.” she was shaking while he still pinned her down. See was shaking from laughing, not from fear.

“You poor man. Here I am thinking he was the one who hired you to get me. Silly boy! I have no plans for you! I’m gonna have my revenge on someone that I used to call my father.”

Her voice was raspy but it dripped with contempt and pride. 

Maul didn't understand why he was so insecure about her. Nina clearly posed no physical threat to him. Nina merely existed in the orbit of her own life, completely independent of Maul's celestial body. Yet... Maul could still feel the gravitational pull between the two of them. He felt mesmerized, like the light of the night lights on a moth. He considered the approach dangerous, but he could not resist.

"So you really are insignificant."

It was a big mistake on Nina's part to make fun of him. Maul stabbed back mercilessly, unable to let the previous insults pass without a counter strike. And she might as well be thankful for him not using his light saber in the process. Nina went silent, stern. The light from her eyes faded. 

His sentence clearly hurt her. Deeply. He saw it in her eyes, yet the satisfaction never came to him. 

“I need space!” She stepped away creating a few steps between them. She thought about hurting him hard with a chair or something heavy. 

“Maybe you have power I will never understand nor carry, but one thing I understand clearly, that you truly are an asshole! We’re done here!” 

She passed by him and went away. He looked at her receding silhouette for a long time, never saying a word, only observing her. Again she left without permission and without fear.

Green eyes. Green dress. The symbol of life and nature.

He always thought red was a powerful color, the symbolism for power and destruction. But turned out green was his new fucking favorite color.

next chapter

Taglist: @stardustbee @hellhound5925 @cloneloverrrrr @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @firstofficerwiggles

Let me know if you want to be added 💖

[me-and-my-gaster]

[COMMISSION] From Mandalore With Love

A commission for a lovely person from DA. A big fan of giving the prince of edge some love.

Thank you for commissioning me!

[ocxmaul]

"You've been wearing a lot of black lately"

"Maul thinks it looks nice on me :)"

couldn't get Valor's eyes right so sorry no eyes for u bud </3 main focus here was to finally get his physique right, it's been so hard finding reference pics with his body type for some reason

linework under the cut if you're interested lol

[like + reblog is appreciated, do not repost pls x]

[the-art-of-trepetnoi]

Empty

okay this is my first post hehehe. I’m not so sure how this works yet. So if I am doing this wrong… PLEASE TELL ME. So I saw this prompt. And it was so good I had to write something. But then I lost the prompt. So I don’t know if I’m supposed to give credit to them. But who ever wrote it inspired this. So thanks.

The young Jedi stared in a daze. As the tattooed Zabrak that towered above her spoke. 

 "I've seen eyes like yours before. Empty eyes. You are nothing but a shell. Come with me. I have enough anger to fill your empty existence. I will bring purpose to your useless breathing."

And he was right, she was an empty shell. She was weak and helpless as she continued sitting on the cool metel floor.

“Anger isn’t the Jedi way” a small voice in her mind argued. But where had that every gotten her! Her mind argued back. She had tried to be the perfect Jedi, but look, she hadn’t even made it to knighthood. And she was so tired of being empty and helpless. Tired of being used. She had been used by the her master. Used by Death Watch. And even used by the council. She wanted the anger the Zabrak spoke about. She wanted to be filled with something again. She wanted at least that power. 

The Zabrak extended his hand, as if to help her to her feet.  

She looked at the proffered hand. Swirled in black and red tattoos. Then she glanced up into the eyes. Those eyes. They were a deep yellow. And set with determination.  Something she had not had in a long time.

    She took his hand.

[yourneighborhoodporg]

The Guardian

Series Playlist

Series Masterlist

-

Chapter 1: The Accident — Sign of the Times (Harry Styles)

Chapter 2: The Revelation — Superwoman (Alicia Keys)

Chapter 3: The Escape — Independence Day (Neil Finn)

Chapter 4: Arrival Part 1 & Part 2 — Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up) (Florence + The Machine) & The Dog Days Are Over (Florence + The Machine)

Chapter 5: Identity — Across the Universe (Fiona Apple — Cover)

Chapter 6: Patience — Valley of Pain (Bonnie Raitt)

Chapter 7: Master — Willow Tree (Paul McCartney)

Chapter 8: Blackened Water Part 1 & Part 2 — Migraine (Twenty One Pilots) & Black Water (Of Monsters and Men)

Chapter 9: Ancient Instruments — Broad-Shouldered Beasts (Mumford & Sons)

Chapter 10: Troubled Water — Bridge Over Troubled Water (Simon & Garfunkel)

Chapter 11: Alone Part 1 & Part 2 — Widow's Peak (Neil Finn) & Alone (Neil Finn)

Chapter 12: Separated — I Lost a Friend (FINEAS)

[wild-karrde]

Hello hello!

For this weeks fandom Friday I'd like to send in a fanfiction written by @marivenah !

It is called 'Breach the Veil and Fill the Void'

It's a Darth Maul x OC fanfiction and gives me so many sleeping beauty vibes! Mari starts of with writing two different POV starting with her OC and then jumping to Maul which was really interesting to read!

Jump over and give it a try 😊

OOOOOH one for the Maul fans! I've always loved the trope of "he's evil and murdery, but he's soft with that one person." This entire premise seems very cool, and I very much can see how you'd get Sleeping Beauty vibes from it. Thanks so much for sending this in!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[cloneloverrrrr]

Hii dear Gabi! 👋☺️

I wanted to slide in and ask about our OC Crystal and Nina. I'm currious about your thoughs. ☺️💖

My dear sweet soul sister @lune-de-miel-au-paradis ✨

I think Crystal & Nina would get along very well, they are of similar age Crystal being a couple of years older than Nina so I think they would click instantly☺️

Their choice of men / partners is very similar also they both seem drawn to the intense and dominating men ( Wolffe & Darth Maul )

I also think they both have a lot of feelings which comes off in their characteristics🫶🏻

What do you think? 🩷🩷

[eleniel-starlight]

You accept prompt requests for your writings?

Absolutely yes! I would love to receive requests!

[thegreatwicked]

Meditations: A Moment in Time in a Galaxy that Never Was

Mediations

For Madelight

Summary: Amid the summer heat on Dathomir, Maul finds himself unable to sleep, restless thoughts stirring within him. Seeking solace, he attempts meditation, only to be joined by his companion Zeala. As they navigate the challenges of finding inner calm, their connection deepens, and unspoken emotions come to the surface. Together, in the quiet moments of the night, they discover a shared intimacy that transcends words and the boundaries of their world.

Notes: Do I need to explain that this takes place in an alternate universe? No? Ok, so here we go. Maul, Savage, and Feral are alive and whole, Maul was not bisected in this universe. The three brothers return to Dathomir after the near massacre of their people to find Mother Talzin, dying. Desperate to see Dathomir reborn, Mother Talzin tasks the strongest of her children, Maul, to bring about a new age on Dathomir. Maul alongside his brothers and his mate, Zeala. Zeala is a native Dathomirian woman who was taken as a young child from her world and raised as a bounty hunter. She meets Maul on Mandalore and they are an established item. If you are a cannon snob then this is not the story for you, please see yourself out or sit down and enjoy. Get’cha an orange creamsicle cause this is gonna be spicy. 

Dathomir.

The summer night wraps around the world outside, creating a dark backdrop dotted with sparkling stars like keiber crystals. It is captivating yet eerie, embodying the world's dual nature. The air is heavy and hot, and the sun's departure has not done much to make the temperature more bearable. Occasionally, a warm breeze wanders through the long hallways, briefly relieving the persistent warmth. Despite the inviting bed and the cool sheets against my skin, I cannot seem to fall asleep. I look around the room without any real purpose, feeling frustrated without a clear reason. The day has been lengthy and satisfying, my mind occupied and content. My body is tired, but each time I shut my eyes, my thoughts remain restless.

The physical comfort alone should be enough, but a restless feeling under my skin stops me from finding the peace I crave. My stare fixes upon the ceiling; an empty canvas that holds no answers, provokes no thoughts, and elicits no emotions.

In the haven of my home, solitude feels like a distant memory. My brothers stand by my side to share my burdens, and even as my mother's final days approach, her presence remains as she guides me to the task of rebuilding our home. She celebrates my son and has embraced Zeala, my mate, as one of her own, teaching her the magics that are her birthright.

Next to me, she rests, my mate and companion, enveloped in the solace that rightfully befits a woman of Dathomir. Her ghostly hair flows like a silken veil across the pillow that she holds close to her chest. Slumbering on her stomach, her arms encircle the pillow she clings to as if finding refuge in its embrace.

The intricate tattoos adorning her form draw my gaze down her body, tracing the delicate curve of her back and waist before disappearing beneath the sheet that grazes her hips. Her very presence in my life is still something of a mystery to me, a riddle I have never been able to solve. 

Companionship. 

It is not something the path of a Sith or Night Brother would have ever afforded to me. As a Sith, lust and embracing of passions was encouraged but such connections led to mercy and mercy was weakness. As a Night Brother the only touch of a woman I would have ever known was as a breeder in servitude to the Night Sisters. Devoid of any sense of equality.

However, Zeala challenges those conventions, carving out her role in my existence as a true equal. Such a thing would have been deemed heretical by both Sith and Night Sisters.

In her presence, I discover a paradox—a connection that feels both forbidden and undeniable. She is mine to protect, mine to touch, sometimes to fight with, and has born my son; complexities that defy my training and upbringing. But I am a Sith no more. And I am not bound by the traditions of the Night Brothers and Night Sisters.

As I contemplate these reflections, her delicate figure stirs, turning on the pillow, arms reaching overhead in a contented stretch. Her naked body is now revealed to my appreciative gaze. Bathed in the moonlight, its gentle glow caresses the curves of her skin, mingling with her tattoos and the various scars from battles she's endured, along with the unmistakable imprints left by carrying my son. A surge of lust courses through my veins and my hearts beat faster. My hands flex with the urge to reach over and touch her, it is overwhelming the sudden desire I have for her; to taste her perfect breasts, to envelope myself in her warmth and make her sing for me. The spectral beauty she possesses stirs sensations within me that at times, I am still learning to understand and control, yet my reverence for her keeps me from waking her. In this quiet contemplation, I make my choice. 

It is time to seek solace in solitude, to find my path amidst the swirling tempest of thoughts and emotions. 

My path leads me down the ancient stone hallways to a chamber which lies mostly bare and unadorned; yet graced by an open balcony that gifts me a panoramic view of Dathomir’s desolately, haunting landscape. Torches cast a gentle, flickering light upon the walls, creating a dance of shadows that mirrors my inner contemplations. 

My legs fold into a familiar cross-legged posture, and I close my eyes, deliberately cutting off the world's visual distractions. Through the balcony, a warm breeze caresses my skin, carrying with it the essence of Dathomir's spirit, both harsh and alluring.

With each breath, I attempt to cast off the shackles of the outside world. Muscles taut from battles struggle to relax, slowly despite my training to always be ready, yielding to the sensation of the breeze and the coolness of the stone beneath me. My breath becomes a lifeline, a guide leading me back to the present moment.

Inhale. Exhale. 

The rhythm of my twin heartbeats reverberate within me, a unique cadence born of Zabrak physiology. This is my anchor, grounding me in the now, granting me a brief reprieve from the chaos that clutters my mind.

As I continue to breathe, the world fades into the background. My consciousness extends, attempting to merge with the land, the air, and the very pulse of the planet. Yet I am further disappointed. Frustration simmers beneath my controlled exterior as my efforts to clear my mind continue to be thwarted by an ever-persistent barrage of thoughts. I release a measured breath, acknowledging my momentary defeat and my shoulders slump as if to surrender to the weight of my internal chaos. 

Suddenly her presence calls to me at the edges of my consciousness. 

I can sense her behind me.

The very air changes as she silently observes my struggles. She waits quietly for a few moments before seeking me out. Trying to ascertain whether I am receptive to her presence or if she should leave me, but the truth of the matter is, that it is a rare occasion that I do not desire her closeness. Even in my most angered state, when I feel more beast than man and pulse with anger powerful enough to rip worlds apart, Zeala’s presence, her touch, and her very breath on my skin soothes me; and I do not understand it. 

Her footfalls are soft against the stone floor, approaching as if trying not to startle a skittish creature. I find myself contemplating if that is the lens through which she views me. However, there is no need for her to tread so cautiously, I hold an unspoken devotion to my mate that runs so deep, that I would readily offer my very lifeblood before ever causing her a shred of harm.

A ripple of awareness draws my focus to the cool touch of her hand gliding across my back. She kneels behind me and I can feel the warmth of her breath on my skin as her forehead rests between my shoulder blades—the gesture is both intimate and grounding. This is the sensation I yearn for when thoughts of her consume my mind. And that is the puzzling part—no Night Brother has ever experienced such a connection with a Night Sister. Regardless of how and where Zeala and I met and what our courses are, she is, at her core, a Dathomirian woman. And this union we have, this connection we share is unusual for our shared culture.

Our bond is unparalleled, defying the norms of our customs. It is more than mere intimacy—it is a bond unlike any other. She comprehends me, understanding my thoughts and desires sometimes before I even realize them myself. In another life, the ways of the Sith would dictate severing all connections with her, perhaps even snuffing out her life; viewing her as a vulnerability not to be tolerated. But I am no longer a Sith; I have become Maul once more, son of Dathomir. While the grip of the Sith teachings has weakened, their lessons remain deeply ingrained, making it challenging to dismiss them entirely.

In the customs of our people, parity would elude us; I would assume a subservient role to her, bowing to her, her wishes and whims guiding my stars. If she commanded, offer my blood for any cause she deems worthy. I would exist to serve her, aiming to bring her pleasure; a life not wretched compared to my past horrors. Nonetheless, the intimacy we embrace would not be sanctioned, our cohabitation forbidden. Her absence from my side in our shared bed breeds frustration. 

Gradually, these musings disperse, replaced by a hint of a smile as I savor the wordless tenderness she offers. It is a curious revelation, having spent a lifetime devoid of such connections or sensations, yet finding myself relishing them so profoundly, yearning for their presence. The whisper of her breath caresses my spine gently, a subtle disruption to my usual composure. With my eyes firmly shut, I maintain my focus, her proximity an intermittent interruption in my concentration.

Breaking the silence with a quiet and knowing tone, I address the situation, curious about the disturbance that has roused her from what should be a peaceful slumber. 

“What has awakened you?”

"I could hear the thunder of your thoughts," She remarks in a whisper, her voice a blend of tenderness and desire. It is a comparison that always catches me by surprise, a reminder of her unique connection to my inner world, even though she cannot truly read my mind.

“I highly doubt that.” My tone is light-hearted with amusement, as I release a breath and temporarily abandon my efforts. "I did not want to disturb your rest." It often surprises me how I think of her well-being before my own. 

I shift my gaze toward her, allowing her fingers to glide up my neck, their delicate trail making its way to trace the creased lines on my forehead. Only Zeala possesses the ability to offer such a touch—one that carries a deep tranquility; a connection that is exclusively ours. I convey how my thoughts were a jumble, too intricate to disturb her slumber, hence why I turned to meditation for solace. Her touch persists, a soothing caress mapping the lines etched into my skin.

“How is your meditation progressing?” I scoff and don’t answer immediately, 

"Focus eludes me." I further the sentiment with a dry tone. “Though it is difficult to find focus with such distractions, your touch for instance.”

“Perhaps you should channel that focus and teach me.” 

Zeala is not a patient woman, and the notion of teaching her such a disciplined exercise as meditation draws genuine amusement from me.

"It might serve you well, considering your temper." 

A thousand images of Zeala in various states of anger flash through my thoughts, most of them linked to her role as our son's mother. Her fury rivals even that of my mother, rendering her a truly formidable force—one I have no desire to challenge. Yet, oddly enough, witnessing her in such moments has only heightened my admiration for her and intensified my attraction toward her. To witness the extent of her ferocity as she safeguards our son, my son, stirs something within me, a connection that's both difficult to explain and impossible to ignore.

“Are you saying I’m hot-headed?’

“Yes,” I respond bluntly.

“My temper is nothing compared to yours.” She counters, clearly not offended.

“If that is your belief...”

"My assertion isn't a mere opinion; it's a factual observation. Or have you forgotten the fate you bestowed upon Garyss?" 

Yes. That.

A snarl curls my lip as I recall the man who dared extort the mother of my son. 

The memory of his audacity, his touch on my Zeala, ignites a fire in me. The repugnant thought of his filth marring my mate lingers. The knowledge of his punishment fails to quell my rage, no matter the price he paid. My posture tightens and my fists clench.

I recalla vividly his fear and screams fueling a devious grin, a fate that was well deserved and yet was not brutal enough. Zeala is mostly right, and her observations are correct to a degree. 

"You're not entirely innocent in matters of retribution either. Both Savage and I bore witness to your fierce attack against that Twi'lek girl who dared to vie for my attention in your presence." It was quite the spectacle, a sight forever etched in my memory, to see her stake a claim over me. 

A shadowy chuckle brushes my ear, the sensation of the sharp edges of her sharp teeth following, accompanied by a sinister tone. 

“She won’t make such a mistake again.” Zeala asserting her possession of me in that wicked whisper, I cannot help but wonder if my declarations also ignite similar emotions within her. 

"Meditation might offer you the balance you seek." 

"Teach me, then. Your discipline might rub off on me." As her lips find my ear once more, her voice whispers, telling me to instruct her, one I struggle to resist.

The warmth of her lips, a tender touch that trails along my spine, resonates deeply within me. Her presence, her breath, her soft words, all contribute to a growing intimacy that beckons as much as it distracts. The very notion is unexpected, yet a part of me is intrigued by her willingness to explore this practice with me.

With a controlled exhalation, I slowly shift my head, just enough to acknowledge her presence and her request. Her bewitching violet eyes hold mine, and I find myself drawn into her gaze, those unusual depths that could drown me. 

I nod in agreement. It is then that I notice she has donned my black robe, wrapped in its darkness that contrasts the pallor of her perfect skin. The robe's oversized nature drapes around her like a luxurious blanket, covering her form yet hinting at the fact that she wears nothing else. The possessive thought that she's wearing only my robe is both alluring and intoxicating, deepening the connection between us in a way that stirs something primal within me.

She has done this on purpose.

As I narrow my gaze at her, a knowing smile tugs at her lips. She has taken a calculated step with her choice of attire, and she is fully aware of the effect it is having on me.

“Sit comfortably,”

She follows my instruction to sit, though not as I expected her to. Instead of mirroring my position and posture, she instead, positions herself in my lap, straddling me. It is an unconventional posture, one that defies tradition and expectation. Her hands find purchase on my shoulders, and her forehead presses against mine. Never before has such an intimate pose of meditation been assumed and for a moment I think she cannot be serious so I pose the question.

“Are you truly committed to this?” My tone is a dry mix of skepticism and curiosity, as I wonder if this is some kind of jest – and yet, a part of me hopes it is not. I follow up with a comment on her unique approach, stating, "Your approach is… unorthodox."

Yet, even as I speak, I cannot deny the undercurrent of affection in my words, nor how enjoyable I find this to be. 

I instruct her to focus on her breathing, to let go of the tension that clings to her form. As our breaths sync, her body relaxes against mine. Our breaths intermingle, drawing us into a shared rhythm, a connection that is both unusual and intriguing.

Her thumbs tracing soft patterns on my shoulders invite a question, a challenge. "Is that for my benefit or yours?" I ask, my voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

Her response is honest, confessing that touching me does indeed relax her, it comes as  a surprise to me. I find myself mirroring her gesture, my hands lightly stroking her lower back, the touch invoking a subtle shiver that courses through her.

Strange woman, indeed.

I resign myself to Zeala's unusual approach, adjusting her posture ever so slightly, as well as my own. I instruct her to clear her mind and to let go of thoughts of training, responsibilities, and all distractions. My voice is steady and commanding, a reflection of the leadership role I often inhabit. But in this private moment, it is different— I am guiding her, not as a Sith Lord or a Night Brother, but as a partner.

"Clear your mind," I remind her. "Aim for an absence of all stimuli." I watch her closely as she adjusts her position in my lap as if accommodating my teaching, her chest rises against mine as our breaths synchronize. My gaze narrows slightly, and I question whether she understands the reaction her body is going to prompt from mine. The tiniest curve to her lips tells me that she is fully aware.

I add a more challenging instruction, my voice lowering slightly. "Purge your mind of all desires." It is a test, a way to see if she truly understands the depth of focus that true meditation requires. The nature of our closeness is a distraction in itself, but I want to see if she's able to set aside even those desires in pursuit of the meditative state.

I continue, my voice a steady guide. "Let your body relax." It is a strange juxtaposition—guiding her in meditation while she's seated in my lap, both of us so close, yet striving for a state of mental detachment. It is a challenge, to the strength of her mind.

Amid the intimacy of our shared breaths and gentle touches, I guide her with a single word. "Breathe," I murmur, a directive that extends beyond the realm of meditation, a reminder to embrace the present moment.

Time unfolds with its rhythm, and our breaths intertwine as we share a moment of profound intimacy. I sense the currents of energy between us, a peculiar connection that reaches beyond the mere act of meditation. My mind begins to settle, finding a semblance of relief amidst the chaos that usually engulfs it. The weight of my responsibilities and the constant battles fade, if only for a fleeting moment.

Yet, this respite is short-lived as I detect a shift in Zeala's thoughts. I cannot read them as I would an open book, but the undercurrents of her consciousness are unmistakable. She is thinking of me. A fact that should be incongruous with the state of thoughtlessness this meditation aims to achieve. 

My eyes flicker open. Her presence, so near and enveloping, is both comforting and distracting, her curves pressed against my muscled torso. My irritation surfaces as I realize that the robe she procured from me, is slipping off her shoulders, leaving little to my imagination. I inwardly grumble at the situation, annoyance, and arousal swirling within me.

Despite my inner turmoil, she appears serene, her calm façade against my internal storm. I can sense her thoughts taking a more intimate direction, a current of desire and longing that courses through her, coming off in waves, she likely does not even realize she is doing it. 

It is a shift that puzzles me initially. Is she merely pretending? Yet, as I study her more closely, I come to realize that her calm is genuine, her thoughts unclouded by deception.

The peculiar absence of nothingness in her thoughts begins to have an unexpected effect on me. A sense of calm begins to wash over me. It is as if her serene thoughts are affecting me, transcending the boundaries of our physical closeness. 

The act of meditation between us has transformed into something different, something more profound. It's as though her tranquility is merging with my own, weaving an unspoken bond between us, transcending the confines of language and reason.

The space between us diminishes to nothing and her body is pressed against mine in ways that make concentrating or clearing my mind impossible. I can feel my body responding to her, my cock stirs and desire floods my veins.

"You are distracting." My voice is full of discontent. “This meditation is futile.” 

She suggests that if I would prefer solitude then she will leave me to my thoughts, her hands exerting a subtle push on my chest as if preparing to withdraw. In response, I grip her waist more firmly pulling her even closer, conveying without words that I want her right here with me.

Zeala's fingers embark on a delicate exploration, gliding from my shoulders down my arms and back up to my neck. The sensation is an odd mixture of pleasure and anticipation, a battle of conflicting emotions that I'm not entirely sure how to process. As her touch ventures upward, following the curve of my neck, it takes on a different quality, an almost tingling sensation that resonates through my core.

Peace and calm, which I had sought through meditation, begin to yield to something entirely different. Desire and longing gradually take their place, like tendrils curling around my thoughts. 

Her voice pierces the quiet, breaking the stillness like a gentle ripple in a pond. "Why can't you sleep?" I don't respond immediately, instead, I resort to a jest, attempting to lighten the weight of her question.

“My mate is sitting naked in my lap,” I reply dryly, my words carry a touch of amusement. Her presence, clad in my robe but barely held in place by her posture, is a distraction that I find both tantalizing and vexing. It makes it impossible to focus on anything else.

“Not naked,” she counters.

“Indeed, appropriate attire,” I remark, my tone sardonic as I take in the sight before me. The robe's precarious position on her form is testing my resolve. “Or lack thereof.” There's a subtle, reserved mockery in my voice, a tone I reserve solely for Zeala.

Her eyes open, meeting my gaze with a mischievous glint. “I thought you had mastered meditation,” she taunts, daring me with that enticing tone.

"Indeed, long before you were even aware of the concept," I remind her, a touch of pride underscores my words. But her next words are a tantalizing proposition, a daring challenge that holds a promise of testing my self-discipline. 

“Then you won’t mind a challenge.” 

She relaxes her posture completely, allowing the robe to slip from her shoulders, and it falls to the ground pooling around us, she has my full attention and she’s keenly aware of it. Astonishingly, I manage to maintain eye contact, despite the temptation presented by her actions. I have seen her naked a hundred times but the pull to touch her is as strong now as it was the first time.

“Witch.” 

"Your concentration leaves much to be desired.” She observes my struggles, and it’s clear she’s amused by my predicament. “Am I still distracting you, cyar’ika?” Her voice is akin to a purr and it sets my nerves aflame.

“Yes.” 

She is quick to remind me that she had offered to leave me to my thoughts, but I declined her offer. "Seems you're discontent no matter what the circumstances," she muses, her fingers continuing to trace gently following the lines etched into my skin.

"You will not be satisfied until you have driven me to the brink of madness." 

"My satisfaction has never been an issue where you are concerned." Zeala’s voice is a melodic murmur meant to excite me.

Just as I am about to unleash my words in a sharp retort, Zeala's gentle touch silences me like a spell. She traces the contours of my lips, "Stop thinking," She commands, the words resonate within me and her unexpected tone leaves me taken aback. It is a tone I have heard many times from her but I have never been on the receiving end of, one that allows no room for argument. Her command cuts through my defenses, and to my surprise, I am unable to hide it, compelled to obey.

She proposes that if finding solace in the absence of thought proves impossible, perhaps I should embrace the swirling currents of my mind instead.

I cannot help but scoff at her suggestion, a retort about the fundamental principles of meditation nearly escapes my lips. However, a glimmer of wisdom in her words gives me pause. 

"What are you thinking about?"

The impulse to remain guarded, to keep my vulnerabilities hidden, is strong, but I find the words escaping my lips. "You."

"Then concentrate on me," she instructs, her gaze unwavering. "My voice, my breath."

Unintentionally, defenses waiver, and my innermost thoughts spill forth as though I have no control over them. "Your scent..."

Without hesitation, Zeala acknowledges and embraces my unspoken desire. She tilts her head back exposing the hollow of her throat and I breathe deeply, allowing her scent to envelop me. "Yes, Maul."

It feels foolish as if I am succumbing to a spell woven by mere desires, not being able to resist the charms of a mere woman, all my years of training fail to serve me. I feel weak and I consider pulling away, to put distance between us and retreat into myself as I always have. I feel as though a dam is threatening to burst inside me and something primal demands to be set loose, and the lack of control terrifies me. I am not one to bow to urges, not one to be controlled by simplistic desires; I control the force around me, and I determine my fate. 

But then, I feel her hands gently touching me in a way I never knew could be pleasurable. I hear the soft cadence of her breathing, its steady rhythm, I feel her heart beating, a steady echo of life. I can smell her, sense her- my mate. Mine. My arms act of their own accord and wrap around her naked body pulling her to me and I lean into her, I begin to feel myself relaxing as my posture slowly begins to shift. I begin to feel the ease of calm that has eluded me for days and I surrender to her suggestion, allowing her to now guide me.

Zeala's hands continued to trace the intricate lines of my tattoos. The air around us seemed to grow lighter and cooler, and the weight of my thoughts slowly dissipates.

In that moment, what began as a lesson has transformed into something entirely different—a union of minds and souls, an intimate connection that transcends the boundaries of the physical world. In the firelit room, amidst the flickering torchlight and ancient stone walls, my mind still grapples with the unexpected calm that has settled upon me. 

Is this what people mean when they speak of soulmates?

She prompts me to reflect on the purpose of meditation, and I responded with the essence of my practice. 

"To achieve steadiness and focus, and calm,"

Her approval is conveyed in a subtle nod, and her touch moves up my neck—a soothing gesture that grounds me in the present moment. As her fingers dance across my skin, I feel a sense of tranquility settle within me, as if her presence is a tether to some unexplored realm.

“How do you feel?”

Drawing a breath, I follow her rhythm, allowing her to lead me further. "Steady," I murmur, a declaration that resonated with assurance. With each breath that follows, I traverse the landscape of my thoughts, acknowledging the truth that lies beneath. "Focused."

As I exhale, a sense of acceptance unfurls within me. The word I utter holds a quiet revelation, one that carries a sense of wonderment. "Calm," I confess, the syllable carrying the weight of an unfamiliar emotion. It is a state I rarely permit myself to embrace fully.

The progression of her touch continues, lips brushing against my skin as her fingers glide over my arms and up the sides of my face, stopping tantalizingly short of the base of my horns. It is a touch that's both soothing and maddeningly teasing. A low growl rumbles in my throat, a mixture of frustration and desire as I command: 

"More."

 The word hangs in the air, heavy with implication, as the boundaries of our meditation continue to blur.

She hesitates only long enough to make me crave more, then those cool, delicate fingers continue their journey along my crown, from the base of my horns to their very tips and back again. The sensation is electrifying, causing my skin to erupt in goosebumps and my body to shudder in response. The rhythmic motion sets off a series of reactions within me, from the erratic beat of my hearts to the hitch in my breath. I'm overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience, a mixture of pleasure and vulnerability.

Her fingers stroke the contours of my horns, and I find myself unable to control the grip of my hands on her hips. My fingers dig into her flesh, a mixture of desperation and desire fueling my actions, my body aches to become one with hers. My breathing, once steady and measured, becomes shallow and erratic. I find myself whispering a confession that I've kept buried within me. "Stay," I murmur, the words a quiet plea. "I– need you."

It is a confession that I am not accustomed to making and it catches me off guard. My life has been defined by pain, solitude, and the pursuit of power. The companionship that Zeala offers is both foreign and terrifying, a realm of emotions I have long been unaccustomed to, even feared. Yet, despite my resistance, I have come to recognize the significance of her presence in my life.

In the wake of my admission, Zeala's touch persists, her fingers weaving patterns of comfort and intrigue. 

Her words, tinged with playful observation, traced a path of revelation through my consciousness. "I like this meditation." She muses, her touch brushing my earlobe in a gentle caress that gives me chills.

Her words strike a chord within me, encapsulating the truth of our shared experience. What began as a simple attempt to find solace in meditation has transformed into an intimate connection, a unique communion of shared breaths and unspoken understanding. In her presence, I have discovered a new dimension of meditation—one that exists solely between us, an unspoken language of connection and serenity.

“It is too highly flawed to be effective.” I counter, sensing the internal dam straining against the pressure of my emotions. 

“You mean to tell me this doesn’t relax you?” Her voice carries genuine concern, she expects a different answer.

“No,” I growl in response, something hot and carnal burning beneath the surface and I have held it at bay long enough. "It is impossible to find a relaxed state of mind when my cock thickens and aches and every inch of my body demands your touch," My voice is thick with a potent blend of frustration and desire.

Without a moment's hesitation, my actions are resolute, and I crush her mouth against mine in a kiss that defies all inhibitions. In the early stages of my pursuit of Zeala, the concept of a kiss was foreign to me, shrouded in confusion and unfamiliarity. I struggled to discern its purpose, questioning the necessity of such an intimate gesture. At first, the notion of deriving pleasure from such an act eluded me, and I failed to recognize the subtle allure it possessed. My initial reaction was one of caution, even interpreting it as a form of aggression rather than a physical connection.

Under Zeala's alluring instruction, I gradually came to understand the depth and significance of a kiss. Through her guidance, I learned to not only appreciate its nuances but also to derive enjoyment from its intimate embrace. Over time, I honed my skills, mastering the art of the kiss and using it to stoke desire and kindle passion in my mate. With every brush of lips, I can elicit a breathless longing and a hunger for my touch, a mastery that occasionally grants me a strategic advantage, playing to my advantage in unexpected ways.

The kiss is a hungry and passionate exchange that goes beyond mere physical desire. It is a connection that transcends the boundaries of the material world. "Witch," I breathe against her lips, my voice is a low rumble infused with a blend of emotions. This term holds intricate layers of meaning—a fusion of adoration, a sense of being enchanted, and the profound recognition of the spell she casts over me.

My lips meet hers again and she offers no resistance when I seek entry with my tongue, she offers no resistance but embraces me, and her hands stroke their way up my chest. She’s pliable in my hands and I feel her sigh into my mouth with each soft stroke of my tongue against hers. Yet, I am not done. In a voice that is a mere whisper, a secret to be shared between us alone, I speak the words, 

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum," 

The Mando'a  proclamation of love that I seldom utter aloud. Her reaction is subtle, yet I catch it, and I feel it. A gentle inhale, so delicate and filled with fondness, escaping into a soft whimper. I have surprised her, the evidence in her firm embrace that draws me nearer, her grip tightened with an urgency that speaks of her emotions.

With those words, I let her in further, allowing her to witness the vulnerability that lay beneath the veneer of my strength. In her presence, I find acceptance, understanding, and the rare comfort of a companionship that has the power to heal even the deepest of my wounds. Her scent is all over me, she soothes me and her touch leaves me wanting her closer. It is almost unbearable how much I enjoy it. I feel drunk with want and I easily negotiate her into her back, she does not seem bothered by the cold stone floor, no matter either way, I will warm her should she chill.  

Her slender legs wrap around my waist, prompting a lazy thrust of my hips and I savor the sounds she elicits. My arms cage her against the floor. It lacks the comfort of the bed we share but it is too far a walk and my desire has reached its peak. I will have her here, right now. 

Never before has meditation left me in such a state; ravenous, hungry, half mad, and desperate. I want to hear her cry out my name, I want all of Dathomir to hear her sing for me. And sing she will. 

Her nails rake down my chest, the sensation stings at first then it just tickles, my patience with this woman is fractured and I want nothing more than to bury my cock inside her. To make her take all of me and feel her convulse in pleasure as I fuck her without quarter. I can smell her arousal now, her sweet perfume calls to me, and I can feel my mouth watering, whipping me up into a frenzy, and my control splinters further. 

Those clever fingers of hers reach down my chest offering teasing touches to my muscled body searching for my trousers and pulling at the remaining physical barrier between us. I growl like a wild beast when her hand slips inside and grasps my cock, her thumb stroking the hard ridges in a way that makes my entire being falter. A breath claws its way from my lungs and I break our kiss. Physical intimacy has not been a factor in my life, not until I met Zeala but she was quick to school me in the exquisite art of release. 

My breaths are shallow and I try to steady myself to gain an iota of control but she has a game she likes to play, to see how quickly she can bring me to orgasm. In this regard she is the more talented of us both, and she is doing it now. Alternating between softly and firmly stroking my cock, teasing the ridges and her thumb works circles over my head, swirling about the evidence of my desire for her. The sensations are maddening and they are made worse when I feel her lips and tongue graze my nipple. I snarl as my hips thrust into her skilled hand, her touch is fire upon my skin and I need more of it. 

Kriff, this woman. 

I let her have her fun for a few moments but as the seconds slip by I can almost taste her in the air, but it’s not enough, I need to savor her. Need to make her shudder and writhe against me, to make her crave the pleasure that only I can give her. No one can know her as I can. No one can touch her as I can. My grasp is strong yet gentle, as I take her jaw in my hand, conveying a desire to hold her attention. I tilt her face towards mine, wanting to lock eyes with her, to delve into the depths of her gaze, and for a moment, make our connection irrefutably clear.

I stroke her lower lip and the coy minx she is, sets her teeth upon me, her tongue darts out to lick my thumb before sucking softly. 

I demand her to open her lips to me and she does with an abandon that sets my body aflame. I drink deeply of her lips before moving down her body to what it is I truly want. The softness of her breasts is too tempting for me to ignore them any longer, she moans at feeling my teeth nipping and pulling with just enough pressure for it to almost hurt. She thrives off the fine line between pleasure and pain and the revelation first stunned me. I alternate between the harshness of teeth and the soothing strokes of my tongue and lips against her nipples and her body writhes and jolts whenever I do. If I play my hand right I will have her coming undone just from my current ministrations. As time goes on the more sensitive she becomes, a trait I relish using to my advantage. Until she whimpers and she can’t control how she writhes against me, the slightest breath on her skin will send her flying higher than any narcotic could ever hope to achieve. 

As I make my way down her body, my tongue dips into her navel, I can see her breathing is slow and steady but I can feel her body beginning to tense. My breath teases her where I know she wants me most. The warmth of my mouth, the sensual strokes of my tongue, she’s thrumming with need. 

“Test my concentration, will you? Let us see how you fare.” 

Her body opens to me with little provocation and I can feel my lust surge up, demanding I take, and so I do. Her breasts rise in a deep breath which she struggles to conceal as I enjoy her. Although I required guidance on the act of kissing, kissing her this intimately came naturally to me, and I needed little guidance. Slow, leisurely strokes of my tongue against her cunt have her keening against me, her scent permeates the air. I devour her like she’s a treat, and she is. A sweet delicacy only for my enjoyment. Her legs tremble slightly with want as I purposely avoid her clit, I can be cruel sometimes wanting to see how far I can push her till she begs me for exactly what she wants. 

My witch seems to think she can wordlessly coerce me into submitting by gently touching the base of my horns once more. She pushes herself up on her elbows and her reach is extended, I can feel her eyes on me. Her fingers stroke my crown with more assertion, aiming for a less delicate approach and I feel its effects immediately. The tremors that race throughout my body and my cock twitches with need, my zabrack physiology works against me now.

A growl rumbles deep within me as I harness the power of the Forces symphony of unseen energies bending to my command. With a purposeful gesture, I direct these cosmic currents, orchestrating their unseen embrace. Her form, once upright, yields to my unseen will, her arms gently pinned above her head, surrendering to my influence. 

I sense her strength, a formidable energy that dances within her, yet my connection to the vast cosmic web is more refined, more potent. I see the spark in her eyes, the intrigue of relinquishing control, of being enveloped in the inescapable grasp of my touch. It's a dance we share, a unique understanding that only she and I comprehend.

Sly amusement curls the corner of my mouth, a private expression meant solely for Zeala's gaze. In this moment, our connection pulses with unspoken understanding, a dance of power and desire, a mesmerizing duet between two souls who share something rare and exhilarating.

My hands wrap around her soft thighs giving her no means of escaping me. Only when she is at my mercy do I truly enjoy her, my lips, tongue, and occasionally my teeth tease her, coaxing more and more labored breathing from her. Her breathing transforms before my ears, a subtle shift that reveals to me her internal struggle. From the initial composed, practiced breaths, a hint of excitement and anticipation creeps in, causing a mild acceleration. But I don’t stop there; as my intimate kiss deepens, her mews and whimpers are laden with an undeniable urgency, a manifestation of her desire that resonates powerfully in the air. Her rhythm is now a symphony of need, a melody of longing. Such sweet sounds and I relish each one. Truly, I know her body so well that I could have her coming apart for me within seconds but drawing it out like this is so much more enjoyable. I have always taken my time in this act, and I will not be rushed.

The first time she cried my name in desperation, I felt a rush that nearly overwhelmed my senses. Hearing her voice, pleading for my touch, was a sensation beyond anything I could have imagined. More powerful than any Force ability I have ever utilized. The words she uttered, so filled with need, were a revelation I had not anticipated—nor had I foreseen the intensity of my craving to hear them again. It is a sensation as exhilarating as any battle won and as sweet as victory itself, yet still, nothing quite compares.

I can feel her body tighten as I stroke her warmth with a single finger, then another joins it and another. I want her ready for me, although judging by how she soaks my hand and quenches my thirst, it won’t take much to ensure she takes me effortlessly. The dual stimulation drives her harder and faster toward her peak. She continues to make sweet sounds for me and they grow in need.

I can feel when she is reaching that delicious crest, ready to tip over and I know a hundred ways in which to make her fall. She pulls at the invisible bonds that hold her down as I lap at her throbbing clit with featherlight strokes, my tongue over each growing more firm and my slicked fingers continue stroking and curling inside her until I hear it. 

My name.

She’s full of desperation and there’s a need in her voice as her body is wracked with pleasure. Her hips twist and turn, her body shudders against the onslaught that is my kiss and while I slow my assault, I do not stop. 

I can’t. The way she cries; “Yes, yes, yes!”  And the most sinful of her cries, a fragile and wanton “Please…” I need to taste her more until she’s spent, I don’t know why, but I relish in this power. A power over her body, to bestow endless pleasure instead of pain to know how and where to touch her. To see her revel in the throws of an orgasm while simultaneously almost unable to handle its intensity. 

It is a cruelty that as pleasure envelopes her, her body becomes more and more sensitive to the extent that pleasure merges and becomes one with pain. Were it within the scope of my control, it would not be that way, I would never see her in any discomfort… but I know she can take a little more.

So I push her as the waves traverse her body and she writhes against my mouth a slave to my hunger, but my only whim is to see her come fully undone again before I seek my release. It happens so quickly, it always does. It takes so little, such a light touch to her already aching and sensitive clit and she’s coming again, her lips part in a wordless cry. Her hips and back tries to arch off the ground but she is still trapped by my will, unable to move unless I permit it. She curses in our shared tongue of Mando’a, and says all manner of things meant to excite me and they all do. She cries for me to never stop but the trembling in her voice tells me she is struggling with the endless waves of pleasure and begs me to fuck her. Were I less of a man, I might have lost myself then and there to the erotic display, my mate, my Zeala lost in the throes of passion, pleasure and sex. 

I release her quivering flesh from my mouth, relinquishing my hold over her, returning her freedom to her, and she’s quick to rise and return to my lap, forcing her tongue into my mouth. She overwhelms me with her aggression and it stirs something in me, knowing she isn’t yet sated and she won’t be until she feels my cock sheathed inside her body. Until I’ve marked her with my seed, I hurriedly work the trousers off my hips just enough that I can take her. There’s time later for there to be nothing at all between us but right now I ache for her, I need to feel her engulf me and feel her walls welcome my stiff cock. Need to be safe within her warmth and presence. I feel only need.

Her hands stroke the ridges on my cock once more and I heave in several short breaths, I hiss at her touch, her eyes bore into mine and I am falling into an abyss as she sinks onto my cock. The breath is pulled from my lungs and her mouth is on mine. She licks at the remnants of her release lingering on my tongue. Clutching onto me as though if she doesn’t I will fade from her grasp. Her walls grip me and I struggle to remember how to breathe. It’s always like this no matter how hard, or how many times I have her, it is as though she was made for only me. Perhaps fate has chosen to be kinder to me now, to give me such a woman. 

For a moment we are motionless, there is only the sound of our breathing and the feel of her lips against mine. Her nails dig into my shoulders and the sting is perfect, her thighs squeeze my legs with each slow and lazy thrust as I begin to move. Her lips part and tremble as she arches her back against me and I gain control of my breathing once more, I can never tire of this, never. Not of this act, not of this woman, the stars would burn out into nothingness first. And it is Zeala who breaks our intimate silence with a command that I can’t ignore. 

“More.”

I don’t even bother acknowledging her request with a nod or an answer, I only obey a slave to desire. I have to shift our position slightly but once I do I withdraw from her and thrust back up. I grit my teeth at the sensation, the heat of her body, the slickness that coats my cock, and how she squeezes me exquisitely. 

My thrusts are slow and deep at first, I need to savor each time her walls clench around me. I need to know she’s as lost in pleasure as I am. She utters my name again with greater urgency. This woman wants me. I’m a monster but I am her monster.

“You’re holding back… don’t.” She clings to me and she forces her tongue into my mouth. I accept it greedily, but I maintain my relaxed pace despite how I know she wants me. “Maul! Please…” She’s insatiable, she craves a faster pace and a harder one. Who am I to deny her what she desires?

I will rip apart the fabric of reality if it offends her so, I will tear down civilizations and erase entire cultures of the annals of history should she ask it of me. 

Her fingers weave through my horns with a touch that sends pure electricity through my body and I thrust harder, faster. I can hear my grunts match hers each time I impale her on my cock. She trembles as my hard ridges stroke places in her no other man has, or ever will reach. I wonder if this was what she intended from the moment she crawled into my lap, but it doesn’t matter in the slightest right now. 

I cannot manage words, only groans and growls, noises more akin to a wild beast but right now I am such a creature. Her hands on my chest cause me to slow my pace and I relent slightly, uncertain as to what she wants. She pushes me down, flat on my back and my legs straighten from the cramped position I was sitting in, a feral sound claws past my lips when she sinks into my cock and I am lost in the pleasure of my mate’s heat and her scent. The steady rock of her hips against mine racks my body with tremors as she rides me, ‘Sweet Mother’. I allow my eyes to close and the sensations to course through me, my chest heaves in a breath as my cock throbs each time she slides upon it, impaling herself. It is good, so good I cannot be bothered to think of anything else. There is no Dathomir, no galaxy, no Force, no Jedi, no Sith, nothing. There is only Zeala and I.

I force my eyes open, feeling drunk, and the room blurs and spins. Everything is out of focus, save for Zeala. Rocking herself on my cock, her hands stroking her breasts, using my body for her pleasure and only for hers. She grips me like a vice and I am powerless, truly powerless as she brings herself closer to another orgasm, I can only watch as this creature who makes my blood burn and my hearts thunder, fucks herself. Every inch of her is mine and no other man will ever see her or touch her, it incites a powerful shockwave through my body and I can feel the rush of my impending release. I can do nothing to stop it and I don’t care to. My breath comes in short gasps and I growl as those white hit waves lap at me, threatening to drown me in electric shockwaves. 

Zeala slows her rocking and is quick to climb off my cock but before I can voice my displeasure; her mouth, her perfectly wicked mouth and tongue lavish my cock with attention. Her tongue licks up and down my length before swallowing me. I can feel the back of her throat brushing my head, it is perfect and something primal in me wants to see her swallow every drop of my seed I can give her. Stars this woman, then she does!

I howl as I spill into her mouth and like a hungry animal she swallows me, all I have to give. My muscles burn and my fists clench as my body eagerly greets the crest that is pulling me under. I growl her name and for a moment, I am lost to it all.

I feel everything, my body pulses in time and my skin tingles from the tips of my horns to my toes, and at that moment there is no greater pleasure, no force more powerful than this feeling barreling through my chest. 

Is it moments or seconds in which my senses return to me? I am not certain, but as I come back down, my hands shake and I see my mate, Zeala, the mother of my son, mine in all the stars. Lavishing the sweetest of kitten licks on my cock, and each one sends a jolt through me, sweeter than the last. I manage to choke out her name and her eyes meet mine. A devious look flashes in those violet pools and she soothes the hard ridges of my cock with her lips and tongue before stopping.

My physiology differs from hers in that I am not nearly as sensitive to pain and overstimulation as she is, but as it subsides, my cock is hard and I am ready to take her again. 

“Such a greedy thing you are, swallowing my cum. I think it is time to take you properly...” I growl. She dips her head back down and continues to swallow my length again, and I feel as though I can breathe fire. “Cyar’ika…!”

It is with some effort that I disentangle our bodies once and she hesitantly relinquishes my cock. I ache and throb from her talented mouth, but I want to bury myself inside her again. 

The firelight flickers as I put her on her back and take her mouth while I tease and stroke her body. She leans into my touch and she hungers for more so I oblige her. 

My fingers stroke through her folds, shuddering at the overwhelming slickness I find there. She moans into my mouth as my thumb finds that delicate little spot, that all-encompassing bundle of nerves, stoking a fire between her legs once more. I swallow her sounds, feeding off the raw desire, it spurs me on, an addiction unlike anything I’ve ever known before. One of her legs wraps around my waist and attempts to pull me forward but I shake my head at her and tell her:

“Stay still. I want to watch you tremble before me again.”

My mouth claims hers again and to my surprise she obeys me, her eyes close and she lies still while I continue to touch her. The softest touches, the ones that I know set her skin ablaze, they make her crave more and she whimpers as my lips enclose a nipple coaxing it to a hardened state. Her noises grow louder, little sighs and gasps, such lovely sounds. 

I can feel her body tighten with each stroke over her silky clit, her back arches pushing those perfect breasts closer to my mouth for me to taste at my leisure. She can barely say my name, but she does say it, a choked sob as another orgasm overtakes her. She is becoming more sensitive and stars help me. I love it. 

I can feel her trembling as the crest subsides and she’s trying so hard to take what I’m giving her but she’s losing the battle. I can feel her body beginning to shake, she will cry tears and pass out from the sensations before she asks me to stop. Stubborn woman. The way her blush colors her pale skin is radiant and I slow my assault on her body and withdraw my fingers bringing them to my mouth while she catches her breath. 

We exchange no further words, I know what she wants. I want it too. 

Our shared kiss is deeper now, a meeting and melding of souls, hungry for the presence of the other. 

She rises on her knees to join me and I turn her so that her back is nestled against my chest, her arm curls around my neck, keeping me close enough that she can kiss me, and I, her. My arm wraps around her hip and I drive up between her spread legs, she greets my cock with a deep groan of satisfaction. My face is buried in the crook of her neck breathing her in, I hear her breathing, I feel her heartbeat, and I feel her walls strangle me. She is almost part of me like this, it is too perfect, and neither of us will last long in this position.

My thrusts are slower and deeper, our pace more relaxed and leisurely. A luscious pur escapes her lips when I begin pushing her back to another orgasm, her legs tremble slightly at my teasing touch as my fingers ghost over her thighs. 

I am a selfish man at heart, I want what I want and nothing will stop me from attaining what it is that I desire, and right now I desire to see Zeala come over my cock. To feel her thrash against me, so lost in the throes of passion that I see into her very soul. 

Her soft whimpers send bolts of lightning down my spine and straight to my cock, she grips me like a vice and my senses are flooded with sensation after sensation, nothing is more powerful than what is happening between us. The Force itself pales in comparison to the energy that exists here in this room. 

She grips the back of my neck and her fingers brush against the base of my horns and it spurs me to increase my pace. My arms wrap around her now, needing her as close to me as possible, needing to feel every inch of her against me.

I fuck her hard now with wild abandon, she pleads with me to take her harder, to mark her with bruises that she will wear as proud badges, she wants the galaxy to know who she belongs to. 

Me. 

My body throbs in time with the very heartbeat of the universe, every nerve is alight, and every muscle aches from this exquisite dance. I cannot hold out much longer, her nails sink into my skin searing tiny crescents into my flesh and her tongue teases my lips in a kiss that burns hotter than any lightsaber.

She bites at my lower lip and growls at me, growls. She struggles to speak but tells me she is going to cum again, and she wants to feel me cum with her. She begs me to. How can I deny this creature when she pleads so sweetly? 

I cannot. 

I tell her with a single command, one I know she will obey “Come.” and she does! Her exquisite pleasure pushes me further and I roar as my release comes, my hot seed fills her body as we are joined in this. Her walls flutter around my cock, milking every drop. Dathomir itself seems to shake as our bodies tremble together, dissolving into pleasure. It is almost overwhelming once more, my thrusts finally slow and I feel more sated and at peace than I have in a while.

It is most certainly due to Zeala, coming in my hand has never given me the satisfaction I feel with her in my arms, clinging to me as though she cannot stand, though perhaps she cannot. Her heart beats wildly and her breathing slows as we remain tethered together for a few moments more, lost in the afterhaze of our passions. 

“Now, I am tired,” 

I grumble into her neck, as my cock slips from her body, finally feeling the sweet call of sleep. Although my muscles burn from our held position I would not trade this experience, nor any time Zeala and I have sought pleasure together. I will suffer through the stiff and sore muscles  I’m and I will deal with them when morning comes, each throb of pain will serve as a reminder of the exquisite pleasure we shared here. And every time my body cries out in discomfort I will hear only her cries and her moans. She rests against my body and it is clear that I have tired my mate properly, her labored breathing is evident enough of that and it brings an accomplished smile to my face. Once I am able to rise to my feet and I cradle Zeala in my arms as I do. She is her most desirable now, her most beautiful, completely fucked and satisfied basking in the afterglow.

It is time to return to our bed. Even though I am able to sleep anywhere, I yearn for our bed, to feel her sleeping bare against me. And while I feel no such concept as shame or embarrassment over my naked body, I desire the privacy our room affords us that I may enjoy her warmth again. 

The sheets are cool to the touch and as soon as my body rests comfortably with Zeala wrapped around me, my eyes feel heavy. Tomorrow Dathomir awaits us, but right now, I am safe with her in my arms and I feel I am finally able to sleep.

___

Wow, this was only 10k words which is like my shortest one shot to date... Guess there's hope for me after all. I am gradually working my way through my WIPs and I'm so happy to see this one done as I wrote it for a friend and I wasn't really much of a Darth Maul fangirl but I certainly am now! How did I do guys? Did you like Zeala? What do you think about a story from Mauls perspective? I personally really enjyoed writing it and maybe I'll do more with the male characters POV stories. Smutty one shot from Obi-wans POV? I would love to know what goes through that mans head while he's getting head... Sorry! Kinda spaced out for a minute! Let me know what you think! Reblog, comment and like and I will see yo uin the next one, bye

@decembermidnightso it begins...

@maulfvckers @5ush1w0rm

[lune-de-miel-au-paradis]

Face to face -Maul's pow

Summary: When Maul woke up, he found himself in an interesting situation. The green eyed young woman comes and he has some questions. Is this all a part of his master’s newest plan? Or is it a new obstacle that he must overcome in order to prove himself worthy of his master? 

Pairing: Darth Maul x OC Nina Cerasus

Warnings: Mention of wounds, medication, anxiety, mutual pining, idiots in love, angst, violence. (Let me know if I left out something.) Minors DNI! Italics means inner thoughts.

AN: This fic means a lot to me and I worked on it a lot. If you have any advice or comments, please share them with me kindly. I'm posting for the first time in years and I don't want nasty comments to discourage me from posting again. If you don't like it, please go to another blog. I did my best to translate it, so pls forgive me, English is not my first language.

Please enjoy reading!

dividers by Saradika

previous chapter

Maul woke up alone. Fresh dewy night air hit his nose, mixed with the scent of sweet jasmine bushes, and some salty water mixed with mold. When he opened his eyes, he saw the endlessly empty sky, framed by the leaves of a few trees, and soft grassy ground beneath him tickled his toes.  As he slowly sat up, he felt the previous spasms slowly loosen in his muscles. He knew that all he needed was a little movement to relieve the feeling of numbness in his muscles as the acid fluid trapped between the muscle fibers was released. He grunted as he stood up, but he felt the familiar weight missing from his utillian belt. He looked around with feverish nervousness, but his fierce warrior hearts found peace.

He found the saber in the soft grass next to him.

The light of the three moons glittered on the cold metal as he picked it up.  Such beauty from such a lethal weapon. He still admired it every time he hold it in his hands.

He looked around, someone had definitely been here. He noticed a black material with a neat square shape. It was his upper robe. Someone took it off and put it under his head. His gloves and boots were also lying next to him. This annoyed the male zabrak. According to the signs, someone touched him while he was unconscious.

He put his boots back on and looked around, but he didn't see anyone, he only could sense only the nocturnal animals of the forest and the lake. Suddenly he heard a rhythmic noise. Soft, quiet steps that didn't seem sneaky, but rather quick. He sensed from the rhythm of voices that a humanoid was approaching. So he did what he had to do, he became one with the darkness and walked in the coal of the night shadows using it as a camouflage. Taking advantage of this, he found himself in the halls of the old abandoned villa as an observation. It was a young female. Maul watched the woman silently, like a surveying animal in a situation of danger. To Maul's surprise, the female walked confidently and fearlessly in the moonlight. She was wearing black light material pants and a matching black soft blouse, the moons shined on the silky material. Her movements were graceful and light, she almost glided. It was as if she was like a spirit being stuck here haunting the abandoned ruins. Maul couldn't see her face, but for some reason he wanted to.

He soon learned that the woman had no weapon, her clothes were ordinary, so she was neither a Jedi nor an assassin.

“Would this also be a test from my Master? What should my next step be?”

The woman stood with her back to him, her dark shiny hair braided down on her back, and she opened a bag, she put it on an old ornate but worn table.

She was humming some melody that sounded like something that would be graciously played on a piano. 

Then she stopped and began to listen. Presumably she felt that she was being watched. Maul saw her posture stiffen, as she looked around several times and headed straight for the lake, where Maul used to lie. So she came because of him. 

Maul continued to watch, feeling rage rising through his veins. Curiosity also mixed in his feelings, he knew that the woman had no chance of winning against him, so he was also a little amused. 

"What are you planning, lady? Is it really a test? Should I just kill you? Or did you come to deliver some message?”

The woman did not step out of the ruins, she stopped and looked out in the broken colored stained glass windows and silently noted that Maul's former place was empty. The only evidence of a body lying there was that the grass had fallen under the previous burden of his body. She started back to the table without saying a word, but Maul decided it was time to act and took advantage of the surprise to pounce on her.

He moved quickly, like an apex predator, he didn't have to exert much strength, in fact, it was more stressful to hold back his bloodlust.

He pinned the woman from the table to the nearest half-collapsed wall. The brick edge pressed directly on the female's spine, she tried to hold on to the two edges of the wall with both hands, thereby easing the unpleasant "spine support". From the outer side of the wall, the leaves of tall fern and leander bushes caressed their knees. The rays of light from the different positions of the moons shone directly on this point, so Maul could finally see the female's face in a very good lighting.

She tried to resist him, it was almost amusing to Maul, this feeble little struggle in the hope of freedom. Maul's left hand crossed her, pinning her against the wall with his forearm at the top of her chest by the soft column of her collarbone. With his gloved right hand, he grabbed her chin and turned it towards him, lifting it up.

When their eyes met, her eyes didn't widen with alarm or fear, but instead glinted coldly in the moonlight with some surprise and some annoyance. For a quarter of a second, Maul just watched the face, which he had only seen once and yet was mesmerized by it. The woman was doing the same, scanning his face, so he did it without shame. The freckles on her pale skin made her face look youthful, and Maul wanted to connect the light brown dots with his fingers to see what kind of constellation they formed on that pretty face of hers. Her eyes, however, were even more captivating, the iris shone like a cold jade stone, the edge was a few shades darker, as if it had been edged with pieces of lush green emerald. Now they were glinting at him a little defiantly, so Maul looked down at the mouth, which opened slightly to facilitate breathing, since his grip was strong. Tiny vibrations of fear-laced gasp trembled against his hold.

Between pink lips he saw interestingly placed teeth, between the first two front small pearl-colored bones there was a small but regular gap, when she talked it was definitely noticeable. A flaw that made her more unique and served her beauty well.

Those seductive lips began to move, and in a firm voice, as much as the restraint would allow, she spoke. 

"As much as I'm enjoying this staring contest, how about you get off me?" Let's say, now!"

Maul was surprised, he didn't feel fear in her voice, well maybe a little, but he definitely didn't see any signs of panic. He didn't feel an overly intense heartbeat under his arm either. Despite the request, he didn't let go, he just loosened his grip a little.

A tendril of anger worked its way to his nerves.

"Who are you? Who sent you?" he asked.

"So you can talk. For a moment I thought you were just communicating by grunting. No one sent me, I came myself, and I mean no harm to you." she didn't collapsed beneath his weight of heavy stare as others did,

“Is that so?” 

He leaned closer to her, he was almost chuckling. 

"How cute of her. She thought she would have a chance against him."

Nina could almost smell the scent of smoggy city air and salt on his clothes. 

He intended his movement as an intimidation, it seemed to work, the young woman uncomfortably tried to back towards the wall, this only made her clothes more dirty, but her gaze was cold and she defiantly resisted, she did not plan to show fear to him. Maul absentmindedly took her braid, his hand amusedly stroking it in his gloved hand, he bet it felt silk soft. He liked this little game, it's much more enjoyable with such a pretty creature. 

"Tell me, little starlight, why should I leave your life? Hhmm?"

He not failed to notice her reaction for the nickname he gave her. 

"First of all, because I helped."

"That's not good enough." Maul answered and leaned down to inhale the scent of her neck. Sweet cherries, almonds and a hint of mint hit his nose. Delicious! He noticed the goosebumps running on her skin, for his closeness, for his touch. He definitely felt smug, which annoyed her, he can see the glint of annoyance in her captivating irises.

"They're going to look for me.."

"Insignificant." Maul whispered this into her ear. "Little starlight.. Do you know how many stars disappear in a single second? 

“Twenty to sixty thousand." She answered surprisingly quickly.

"Very clever one. So answer me. Why should you live? What makes you special? Are you better than those stars? Or are you meant to fade away by my saber?"

He didn't wait for her to answer, the intense eye contact said it all.

“For me, you are rather negligible, small, average.”

It ignited a spark in her. Leaning forward and smiling mockingly, she spoke:

"Oh, really? If I'm so negligible to you, then what was that little scene between us at the club last week? You felt it too, didn't you? I bet you feel it now. This pull between us."

This seemed to have an effect on him, he moved away from her and stormed at least three paces away. He didn't answer, but let out a small growl at her. Now it was Nina's turn to be smug. She began to dust off the debris from her clothes.

"I see we're facing a situation we can easily help. How about a hearing instead of an interrogation? You have questions for me, and I have questions for you. How about exchanging a little information?”

Maul just started then suddenly said:

"I could beat the answers out of you if you'd prefer. "

"Charming offer. That might make me talk, and I will tell you things, and enough of it'll be the truth to make it difficult to weed out the lies. But you won't hurt me. And I'm not kidding, they're really going to be looking for me, which I don't think would be in your best interest."

“And what makes you believe in that? What is my interest?”

"Oh, please don’t try to offend me. I don't need to be a genius to figure out that you're either hiding or either trying to get low from something. Not many people come here to this old mention, nor has a ship that just turns invisible with a device."

Maul noticed that the woman's dress was actually pine green and not black; he also noticed that the white stones on the top edge of the high neckline sparkled, as did the belt of the pants. He also noticed the milky skin on her stomach exposed by the short top. She was such a pretty thing. It would be extremely easy to end her life now, nevertheless…

“So what do you think? Mysterious guy from the club?”

Maul held out a gloved hand to help her down to the level next to him. 

"That you are brave enough to act when you are about to die." 

She accepted his hand. If Maul was expecting the feeling of the warmth of the hand, he was to be disappointed, freezing cold fingertips smoothed over his glove.

She was shorter than him even in heels, but she didn't have to raise her head too high to look into his eyes. Finally, she walked back to the table and sat down in one of the gothic style chairs, beckoning Maul to the one across from her, like if she’s the host in this castle. When she noticed Maul is not gonna sit down and just stays in silence, she began.

Mood board made by me, pictures are from Pinterest.

next chapter

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