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mutatiio · 3 hours

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#« a. skywalker » all things die › musing.#« a. skywalker » it’s been you and me‚ since before i was me › o. kenobi ft. mayxthexforce.#i'd tag roan but anakin would never say no to roan.#roan: be careful.#anakin sighing and putting on his seatbelt. a helmet. obeying the speed and traffic laws.

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mutatiio · 2 days

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THERE'S ANOTHER ONE.

i need him,,, i need him so bad.

#⸢ general ⤑ ooc ⸥ deploy the clown nose.#tbd.#ON MY KNEES.#TINY SCIMITAR.

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mutatiio · 2 days

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i need him,,, i need him so bad.

#⸢ general ⤑ ooc ⸥ deploy the clown nose.#tbd.#i think they're only blind boxes.#im in ruins.

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mutatiio · 2 days

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Frida Kahlo, from a letter written in 1934, featured in "The Letters of Frida Kahlo,"

#« a. skywalker » all things die › musing.#« a. skywalker » now i am incomplete › s. skywalker.#« a. skywalker » ice in the summer heat › d. thel tanis.

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mutatiio · 2 days

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a good mentor. envy seeps into him, narrowing his view momentarily. all he had wanted, all he had longed for, was to be worthy enough to bring back a brief kindness from his former master. though kindness may be a stretch. maul had always been afraid of the hooded figure that lingered. that gave orders. that punished. but, for a time, his harshness had come in hand with clipped praise. maul would have done anything for it-

disgust rises like bile up his throat, burning. even now, something deep within him questions why he hadn't been worthy enough to receive the goodness from sidious that others had. the answer is simple; everyone else receives the lie, he the truth. he squashes the jealously, banishing it down.

" i had a mentor once. " maul muses, again seeming to ignore her question. his mouth felt dry, his insides weak. what was left of his body near protested the mere mention of the sith lord. still, he proceeds after a short, shaky exhale. " he excels in what he does. taught me everything i know, but not everything that he knows. i expect that palpatine did the same to you. " the name was heavy on his tongue.

" i think… that he is scheming and powerful and evil to the core. that he would want me dead should he discover my survival. that he is the sole cause of the war. " not once does he direct his gaze back toward her, instead focuses on a particular spot on the ground. his hands clasped together, not quite trusting them to not tremble. " i fear that my thoughts on palpatine are the same. "

to call something or someone a beast was simply a term invented by those who found the unknown threatening long before proper, further studying. this name did come with several 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, one of them being monster that she'd heard being used about almost anyone who had different beliefs or details in their outer appearances. the latter was something padmé would never understand, as if one's natural features would be enough to determine whether or not the person should be considered a monstrous creature. while her gaze studied the dathomirian zabrak she didn't see a hideous being, but a someone who'd suffered immensely, constantly, and she didn't know even a half of his story so far. he did strike as a person who'd walked on shards of glass and gritted their teeth not in an attempt to soothe the pain, but to take it all, to both endure and rage.

one might nobly claim that naboo had earned his loyalty in some harmonious sort of way, but the truth beneath the layers of formalities was far more simple of kind. maul hadn't had any choice, not really, and that was perhaps one of the reasons why padmé felt an odd sense of sympathy stirring her conscience 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 she lied her eyes on him. even now as she'd stated that she had time to listen, it'd been a combination of genuine hope to understand him better, and a feeling of owing it to him. their glances met briefly and as those golden hues sought for another spot to focus on, she kept observing the side of his face, blinking attentively as he finally spoke back to her.

where was this leading to ? ❝ palpatine was a good mentor to me in the past. i learned a lot from him ❞, she 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝, ❝ nowadays, he is a gifted speaker and an experienced politician. wise too, even if we don't really always see things eye to eye. what do you think of him ? ❞

#alootus #« maul » always remember › interactions.#« maul » i am changed › v / bodyguard.#feeling normal and definitely not insane.

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mutatiio · 5 days

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mayxthexforce:

His name... Someone said his name. Maul. He is still speaking to him. His comm. Where is it? Oh, right. Out of reach, just on the periphery of his vision– out of reach not because it's far away but because he can't move, can't turn. All it'd take to reach it would be to be able to push himself onto his side. But he can't force his body to. Can't will it into motion, even when the hand that didn't clutch his own stomach moves, trying to reach it, it's not close enough. If he strains himself to his limit, to the point that fresh pain blossoms from the wound and makes him feel as if something is tearing him apart from the inside out, he xan just brush his comm with the tips of two fingers. Pushing it further away. He stops trying to grab it. It hurts too much. Ending the effort hurts just as much. Relaxing loosens his muscles up, rips a breathless yet long and pained cry out of him. Tears blur his vision. So much burns inside. There is no blood, but there is so much damage. More than he can even attempt to heal. And yet, he tries. It's fruitless. In his mind, he prays, he begs, for that higher power he might have taken for granted his whole life to not forsake him, to come back. Just for a minute. That's all he needs. He makes so many promises, vows to never use it for selfish reasons again if he's granted just one last chance to use it. Just one last chance to reach through the veil. For Anakin, for Maul, for Ahsoka. There's so many others, but those three would do. He'd be able to go in peace with just that. To feel them there with him one last time. Nothing happens. The force isn't with him. Only the pain remains. Blurs his concept of time. How long has it been? He can't tell. He can't see the sun from where he hit the ground. Obi-Wan feels its warmth, behind him. A growing, uncomfortable sting on his scalp is the only way to measure the passage of time that he has. But when the pain begins to fade eventually, leaving him empty. Staring up at the sky. Then comes a sound he recognizes. His vision flickers back into focus, the growing dark spots giving way to the blue sky once more and there, he sees it: the scimitar. Maul... Obi-Wan doesn't need the force to know that whoever attacked him is long gone, content with ambushing him and leaving him there to suffer alone. They are gone. They can't hurt Maul. The air leaves his lungs in a weak yet heartfelt sigh of relief, and never fills them again.

it hadn't taken long, but it felt as though a lifetime had passed. anger soon turned to desperation. constantly met with nothing in both regards; verbal silence in hand with nothing from the force. growls and orders turned to quiet pleas. talk to me. say something. a noise, a word, anything. anything.

more nothing. such blankness where kenobi used to be rendered him weak, sickened. his hand started to shake as he began begging for a reply. any indication that he's alive, hurt or not. they could solve hurt.

it's the cry that sinks his hearts to the pit of his stomach. he's hurt, but alive. " i'm almost there!! hold on. "

breaking just about every speed violation, he arrives in record time. maul leaps from the docking bay while the ship is still landing, connecting with the ground below harshly, not quite remembering to do anything other than attempt to reach kenobi with the force.

maul smells him before he sees him. burnt flesh, kenobi's scent, nothing as strong as him. dread weighs him down, but it doesn't cease his movement. if he's injured, there's no time to waste. when he approaches everything is still. his chest does not move. his eyes do not move. that does cease his movement planting metal feet to the ground. he's not breathing. not breathing- not breathing, not moving, not speaking, not reacting.

he stumbles forward, toward him, losing footing and landing heavily on the ground, on his hands and knees. it's clearer now that kenobi is not breathing. so clear that he goes still, unblinking as he focuses on obi-wan's hand. covering the wound- he crawls the rest of the way, eyes remaining on the man he loves. loved.

" obi-wan... " tentative fingers touch his sickly-white cheek, cupping his jaw. cold- the other on his shoulder as he gently shakes him. an attempt to rouse. " i am here. right here- look at me. " but blue eyes remain looking up, towards the sky. unfocused and unacknowledging.

he cradles obi-wan against his chest, so gentle, as though what was already broken was so terribly fragile. what happened would be answered soon, discovered or die trying to. rage simmered even now. but at this moment, gentle hold around the lifeless as he rocks back and forward. softly - desperately - he mutters into hair; don't go. don't leave me. you're mine- mine to kill.

shifts only just to press his lips to obi-wan's. a kiss. something he had always found revolting, but rapidly turned to comfort with his jedi. the chill startles him, recoiling with a gasp. claws dig into him, as though fighting against what had already taken the man. denial and realisation at once. " no- " he croaks, his hearts clenching as though in an iron vice, a foreign sound rips from his throat. a broken sob-

head bows, buried in that tan tunic. he trembles even as his grip on obi-wan tightens enough to draw blood from crescent wounds. don't go. don't leave me-

he would give his life, he would kill anyone or anything for obi-wan. nothing deserves to continue living while he dies- while he is killed- maul's hand rests above obi-wan, pressing it against the wound. nothing deserves to live, only obi-wan. if the force is just, give him back.

eyes shut and face to his love's unmoving chest, maul is blind everything around them rotting. every blade of grass drying up, birds ceasing their songs, insects plummeting mid-flight.

if the force is just, give him back. give him back. give him back. give him back.

#mayxthexforce #mayxthexforce ; obi wan kenobi #« maul » always remember › interactions.#« maul » i am victorious › v / kss.#cw severe injury #cw death

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mutatiio · 5 days

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a journey of pain, growth and persistence

#« maul » always remember › inspiration.#cw body horror #maybe. kind of??

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mutatiio · 6 days

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Maul and Sidious shipping bingo

shipping bingo // accepting!!

" ... " maul will remember this.

#« maul » always remember › interactions.

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mutatiio · 6 days

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I feel so disconnected from everything

#« a. skywalker » all things die › musing.

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mutatiio · 6 days

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Anakin and Jyl

shipping bingo // accepting!!

" she's my best friend. i'd do anything for her. "

#« a. skywalker » all things die › interactions.#« a. skywalker » more than anything › j. somtay ft. mayxthexforce.

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mutatiio · 7 days

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Tru and Anakin

shipping bingo // accepting!!

" i don't think that tru even wants to me these days. " anakin doesn't want to see him either.

#« a. skywalker » all things die › interactions.#« a. skywalker » ‘cause i don’t miss you at all › t. veld.

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mutatiio · 7 days

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they were not friends. no, nothing of the sort. she knows. she knows what happened, she was there. had seen everything that came after.

he should have been put down - wounded animal that he was. unsteady, unstable. teeth gnashing and claws ready to shred anything that approached. he was alive, somehow. incomplete- broken. left for dead. she, and her people, took him in. treated his wounds, fashioned him prosthetics, taught him to walk again. broken body, not fixed, but on the way. the mind was the difficult part.

but he'd gotten there, too.

they were not friends. the only friend maul has ever had is- they were not friends. it was more than something as basic as everyday friendship, not something to be thrown about so casually. loyalty was carved into the man's bones, it was forced down his throat from the age of three. displaced at first, his master not forgotten, but replaced. all that he was, all that he would ever be, is loyal to the senator of naboo. to the former queen of naboo. to padmé amidala naberrie, his saviour. she has not, but he would kill if she asked. she would not, but he would end his own life if she ordered him to.

and yet, he has not told her.

fear tightens his throat as harshly as a clenched fist would. but fear was no longer his ally. the wound was far older than the thick scars that greeted metal...

golden eyes shift, glancing to the senator and then away, not quite facing her. " tell me, " he begins, as steady as ever despite the storm of emotion, seemingly ignoring the question. " what do you think of the supreme chancellor?? "

the moment she first had locked eyes with this person, padmé had never imagined a day would come when she'd glance in his direction again and see softness. it wasn't the kind of softness that'd leave one's heart beating in a peaceful tune nor bring up a light noted laughter, no, but it had the sort of understanding to it that made her feel unexpectedly steady. as if he had made peace with something that'd once been a 𝐫𝐚𝐰 gash with no intention to heal enough to stop the bleeding. while there likely were markings of various horrors in the shell of his, she took his shared thoughts as a metaphor — as a sign of how something inside of him had shattered long ago, a moment that he did remember all too well and only now voiced out loud in her presence.

studying the side of his features carefully, she felt somewhat conflicted. would this be her place to offer an analysis of how she viewed his words, or should she remain silent and see whether or not he'd intended to offer continuation to a possible opening of a conversation revolving around vulnerability ? the thoughts 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 here would remain private and she had no interest in sharing his worded wounds with anyone, nor did she think he'd allow her to walk away freely without some sort of response. could it be she'd misread every syllable and was now being tested ? padmé could know only so much and decided to rely on her instincts. ❝ in some occasions it could take years for one to fully realize how deeply they were wounded in the past ❞, she mused with empathy, ❝ the impact of those may run deeper than expected. ❞

there was a pause as she went through 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 options before allowing rosy lips to part again, ❝ would you like to talk about it ? i could listen, i have time. ❞