a-d-u-r-o

[a-d-u-r-o]

hiii im back<3 take this Ara bc i haven't drawn him in ages

#swtorhub #swtor #sith inquisitor #rattataki #alliance commander #im taking him through kotet and kotfe and fucking theron expeditiously

[a-d-u-r-o]

take this from me b4 i start to hate it🙏 word count: 1429 cws: detailed descriptions of gore, mutilation/body horror(?), ptsd (all related to tpm events) summary: Maul has a bad night, Lavan is trying to make it easier :^)

Falling. Falling and falling, the wind in his ears, the way he can't feel his stomach sinking, can't feel anything below the ribcage, he reaches out, tried to grab something, anything, his fingers grip hard metal, dig into it, claws snap off, and he doesn't feel anything, no pain, no fear, no urgency to stay alive, nothing. Nothing. There is nothing and everything. He is alive, and he is already dead. He doesn't remember the impact, slamming into the bottom of the garbage chute. He must have lost consciousness. When he comes to, he turns his head, and sees black blood that has seeped onto the ground, his own lifeless, limp lower body. His first and only thought is that nothing that lives and breathes is meant to see it's own guts. He doesn't know what to do. What is there he can do? Crawl? Is he even supposed to try to stay alive? Is he even alive still? If so, does it matter? And he crawls. Blood pours from open wounds where his nails used to sit. What's left of his stomach becomes damp with blood as it drags on the jagged ground, skin tearing, dirt soaking into it. And he crawls. Is he still breathing? Is he still alive? Is he still alive? Is he still alive? Is he still crawling? Everything is so dark. There is nothing. He is supposed to be in agony, and there's nothing, supposed to be terrified and afraid for his life, and there is nothing, supposed to be kicking and fighting and willing to stay alive, and there's nothing, just the sound of half of him dragging along the garbage chute's corridor, the sound of ragged breathing, and the image of his own hands sinking into filthy ground, pulling, emerging, grasping, pulling. Everything is so dark. Oh, may whatever God is listening have mercy on him, it's starting to hurt. It is so dark, and it hurts.

It's then when his eyes snap open, when he sits up and feels the cold night air hit sweaty skin, goosebumps blooming on his lower arms as he gasps for air for a few seconds. Lavan woke before even he did, like always, the man is already propped up on an elbow and looking at him with concern from behind the hair that had fallen into his face. "C'mon," he mutters, half asleep still, but knowing what to do nonetheless. Like always.

He helps Maul up and out onto the small porch in front of their rented room, and Maul lets him, sitting down shakily onto the old, creaking wooden steps. Lavan doesn't join him yet, instead, he returns to the small room, and enters the even smaller refresher connected to it. There's no light inside, so he half-blindly feels his way around for a cup, and begins pouring water from the sink. How many times has this happened, just in the last month- five? Ten? The fact that he cannot keep count should probably indicate that the number is leaning towards the latter of the two. He has stopped thinking of the episodes as an inconvenience long ago, if he ever even did think of them like that. It was becoming a routine. He'd know even before Maul, flinch awake as soon as his breathing quickened or he began tossing and turning more than usual, jolting awake moments after Lavan. He'd help him onto fresh air or under a cold shower, talk at him for a bit, wait for him to stop gritting his teeth and for his breathing to settle, and then gently suggest going back to sleep. Rinse and repeat every few weeks.

Except it's been slowly becoming every few days now, though Lavan suspected that their current situation has hastened the declining of Maul's sanity, not that he ever had much to begin with. It's been their third week in hiding- Lavan himself didn't quite know what they went into hiding for, but he trusted Maul enough to do it, just as Maul trusted him when he suggested to disappear on Tattooine instead of Dathomir this time around. They bounced around small inns and the backrooms of cantinas, either trying to get lost in the crowd, or in the middle of nowhere. Their current location- sweet old married couple's home in the middle of the desert with a vacant room- was the latter. His episodes were more likely in quiet places. Lavan suspected that Maul was not used to peace, that perhaps it was the absence of current dangers that made his psyche repeat old dangers instead, over and over.

The cup filled up, and Lavan stumbled out onto the porch. Maul sat there with a vacant stare, arms wrapped around his middle, shivering, panting, like a prey animal whose chase had just ended. He flinched as Lavan sat next to him, not looking in his direction. "You here?" Lavan asked, waving a hand in front of the man's face. His answer was a slow nod. "Good. Drink," he said, grabbing an arm and pushing the cup into it. He didn't let go of it, though, because Maul's hands shook so wildly that he doubted he could hold onto it. "Oh, darling," is all he sighed, dipping his hand into the water, dragging the back of it over the skin under Maul's jaw. It was lukewarm at best, but it still felt like ice as it rolled over hot sweat, and it was enough to finally snap Maul out of his blank staring. It was unpleasant, but it was something. Something was good. Much better than nothing.

He tilts his head forward and takes a deep, shaking breath, Lavan beginning to wet the back of his neck as he does. The muscles in his shoulder begin to loosen, and he swallows, trying to steady his shaking and panting. He hates this, this pathetic state and the vulnerability that comes with it, the way he falls apart so easily from something that wasn't even real. Like a child that had a nightmare about a monster in it's closet. "It's good, it's okay, you're okay," Lavan says quietly, damp hands running along Maul's sweaty back. "Want me to kick you in the shin? You know, remind you that you have legs?" he jokes weakly. Maul gives him a half-hearted, fleeting smile, poking him in his side with his elbow. Lavan is the only thing he doesn't know how to feel about amongst all of this, there's a bizarre concoction of thankfulness and shame and hate swirling in the pit of his chest, but he doesn't say a word. It's a constant battle with no victor, between the need for help and the inherent shame of asking for it, the feeling of being patronized and the fury it evokes, the honest gratitude of knowing that it is loyalty and love instead of pity. It's too much to make sense of, so he simply swallows it, and thinks about nothing but the slender, cold hand stroking his back.

"You do not have to stay and coddle me," he says, the weakness of his own voice making him cringe. "Go. Rest." "I'm not tired," Lavan lies. "I'd just lay there awake. At least there's company out here." They repeat this little dance every single time- Maul tells him that he needn't bother himself with this, Lavan tells him that it isn't a bother to begin with, then says something to frame the situation as if Maul is actually doing him a favor. It's true, in some way- never for whatever reason he gives him at the moment, but because at least at times like these, he knows he is needed. Maul needs him, and Lavan needs to be needed, and so he depends on him just as much. It's how it is, and how it always will be. They know no other way to love. Lavan is still running his hand along Maul's spine by the time his hands settle enough to drink whatever water is left in the cup, by the time he stops shaking and panting and gritting his teeth. Still, they stay like that for a few more minutes, watching as the twin suns dress the horizon in a golden glow. "Come, lay awake with me, then," Maul says after a while, and Lavan agrees. And so they lay awake together until the suns are beaming through their curtains, bathing the room in honey, until Lavan hears his love's breathing settle into a calm monotone rhythm, and joins him in dreamless sleep.

#star wars #darth maul #darth maul x oc #oc:lavan #ship:lavan/maul #the formatting is ass so sorry abt it. tumblr character limits took me out back and shot me #anyways i care them but its not enough i need to chew them #<3.

[a-d-u-r-o]

may we hear more abt the gay little pseudo-hungarian kings and their setting🤲 ive literally never seen any fictional worlds take inspo from my country plus i am obsessed w/ ur boys

AWH thanks so much for asking! I'd LOVE to ramble about my boys and the setting! Sorry for the long response ahead... fair warning..

The game is called The Devil City & Its 77 Vicious Princes. It's a super free ttrpg my DM @dukerin0 made! You can play as one of the sexy 77 nobles in the city of Zarkany which sits right upon the mouth of Hell. Lots of scheming political subterfuge, courtly intrigue and drama (ROMANCES INCLUDED if you're big on that like me teehee) and the best part DEVILS AND MAGIC LIVE IN THIS SETTING! It's a great twist and SUCH a fun setting to explore. I could go on but honestly check it out yourself and if you're interested feel free to give my DM a lil love and follow him on Twitter.

His game is also part of the TTRPGs for Reproductive Rights bundle if you want to support a good cause.

As for the Hungarian inspiration, to quote my DM: "It's inspired in part by the 1514 peasant revolt and resulting Tripartitum. I used it as inspiration for law-immune magnates running a lawless civilization."

There's also a few NPCs he's created and named that do little nods to some historical Hungarian figures.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

NOW ONTO TALKING A LIL ABOUT MY BOYS TOMAJ AND MÁTYÁS BELOW!!!

Tomaj (right) belongs to me and Mátyás (left) belongs to @uldren-sov

Tomaj is just a simple, humble blacksmith living in the tillage on the outskirts of the Zarkany called Brelia. For some small context, Brelia is a suzerainty of Zarkany, completely autonomous but subordinate to the High Counts that rule the City. In his younger 20s, he left his village and joined a small group of a freedom fighter revolutionaries that sought liberation from Zarkany. He's seen a few skirmishes in his time, and the dangerous magic that Zarkanians wield but when word got back to him that his father fell ill, he left the cause behind to take care of him, and in his father's inevitable passing, it made him the sole inheritance of the family farm and forge. He's spent a lot of his life living in solitude after that.

Mátyás was raised a wealthy and privileged courtier within the city of Zarkany. He grew up hating how vapid the social politicking of it all was despite this, and especially as his parents were trying to set him up with Princes to further their family's social standing. Not only was it all incredibly vapid to him but also dangerous given the lawlessness that Princes run in this city so he escaped to the Paraspire; a college within Zarkany that taught magic. He found his passion and calling in magic, and upon his graduation he sought to learn by traveling abroad to seek further knowledge. He's been on the road all on his own since then, a traveling academic and explorer, and in those years he's become something of a pioneer in discovering revolutionary magics in doing so.

Mátyás encountered Tomaj and his little village during his travels. He ended up commissioning the mans for a new weapon to which Tomaj took on. Mátyás was absolutely smitten by the mans; so rugged and handsome and sunkissed with freckles like wow!!! meanwhile Tomaj was incredibly reserved and unperturbed by Mátyás's attempts at flirtations or advances LOL. He's got some high guards up just by his nature and some of his experiences within the village that left him something of a social outcast, and overall distrust of travelers who come through his village given he's seen it all.

Anyway, these two end up having a few encounters here and there and Tomaj doesn't learn that he's a mage until Mátyás saves his village from bandits that rolled into town, making a flashy display of wielding fire with that NEW SWORD TOMAJ MADE HIM. The village vilifies him instantly and Tomaj can't sit by, despite his distrust of Zarkanians and magic itself, and watch it happen especially when Mátyás took a bullet and was in need of medical attention.

.. So he stood up for him against his own village, wow so gallant what a hero, and ushered him back to his place where he remained there for a few days to heal. Mátyás at this point has no damn idea what the man even thinks of him, constantly teetering on hopeless and hopeful that there might be something there between them meanwhile Tomaj is Struggling to decipher his feelings on the man especially upon learning what he was and had kept secret.

Cue the bullet wound festering into an infection and Tomaj, unable to just let the man leave with how ill he's gotten on his own, ultimately decides to go with him. They race horseback all the way back to Zarkany to see Mátyás's friend and physician (MY PRINCE ETHANAEL). Cue some dramatic scene of Mátyás passing out in the middle of their travels and Tomaj having to TRULY RACE ALL BY HIMSELF TO THIS FORIEGN CITY TO SAVE THIS MAN'S LIFE AGAIN. Tomaj is just PUTTING SO MUCH ON THE LINE FOR THIS MANS, THIS MAGE AND ZARKANIAN, THE VERY IMAGE OF WHAT HE'S FOUGHT AGAINST AND HARBORS DISTRUST FOR, AND FOR WHAT??? HE DOESN'T KNOW. IS IT FEELINGS? IS IT BC IT'S THE RIGHT THING TO DO? WHO IS TO SAY.

Anyway, they kiss after that and become an incredibly adorable lil couple living out in the tillage, occasionally traveling abroad together (or more like Mátyás dragging him to be his purse holder exploring new towns and places of power so he can study his magic while tomaj enjoys the views and new sights and keeps him out of too much trouble) . They learn a lot through each other, from their experiences as Brelian and Zarkanian alike, in their differences in upbringing and class and it's such a lovely little opposites attract dynamic. MWAH!!!

#ME AND WHOOOOOOO ME AND WHO. #i am holding them so gently i love these two. oh 2 be raced to the city by my love interest bc ive fallen gravely ill while #protecting his village. #rb #also #save #bc i really need to check out that ttrpg.........

[a-d-u-r-o]

i've finally finished all my gradiuation work so now i can go back to drawing what REALLY matters (the gay little starwars people i made up)

#swtor #imperial agent #swtorhub #oc #i forgot how to tag things on here</3 im going to sleep #oc:vox

[a-d-u-r-o]

MORE TEMPLATES look at my lads. Mátyás belongs to @uldren-sov !!

#love their gay little hungarian names. keep it up kings

[a-d-u-r-o]

lesbian datho force ghost commune inside sorine's head beating the shit out of valkorion

#oc:sorine #im still doing my schoolwork animation so im thinking abt the blorbos in my brains to survive it all<3

[a-d-u-r-o]

wake up babe new starwars theydie just dropped

#star wars #swtor #zabrak #devaronian #sith #i had this design stuck in my head for days but i literally dont have anything else for them #theyre fucking uhhh. idk glup shittos secret gender neutral lover #ive got nothing head empty only disheveled demon ass looking sith

[a-d-u-r-o]

shh. theyre sleeping.

#swtor #wip #im doing a huge ass depressing animation so its wholesome doodle break time

[a-d-u-r-o]

The best trait you can give a tall and imposing character is "easily flustered." I don't care how many people they've bested in combat, someone cute flirting with them should be enough to make them go

#oc:kragor #yea<3

[a-d-u-r-o]

guys being dudes

#skyrim #skyrim oc #dragonborn #altmer #orsimer #its been so long since i did one of these black and white things. #returning to my roots truly #oc:atsvara #oc:kragor #ship:atsvara/kragor

[a-d-u-r-o]

nvm ive still got it

i am trying to draw again so bad but ive forgotten everything.

#turns out i just had to fuck his face up once as practice and now we're all good and warmed up

[a-d-u-r-o]

i am trying to draw again so bad but ive forgotten everything.

#im all moved in and i have a job but at what cost

[a-d-u-r-o]

if i got stigmata i would not devote my life to god and simply carry on as usual. so what there’s holes in my wrists. it’s a tuesday.

#game:stigmata #yea<3

[a-d-u-r-o]

also drew the other war criminal

#star wars #the clone wars #oc #poor little meow meow or whatever the fuck yall keep talking abt

[a-d-u-r-o]

we r getting there

maul has one of the most faces

#i hate him (loving)

[a-d-u-r-o]

maul has one of the most faces

#im trying to make studies he is KILLING me #undrawable mf.

[a-d-u-r-o]

idk if my shit even shows up in tags but swtor/tes oc people please like or rb i desperately need active mutuals😔🙏

#swtor #tes #skyrim #eso #u drop off the face of the earth for months ONCE and ur dash is dead..smh🙄 #dragoned age ppl also welcome but u have to not be insane please