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#paecian
aurora-light-blog · 6 months
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Paecian
The species in which the Dathomirans would spawn from. While most Dathomirans clans are matriarchal, the Paecian were a patriarchal society. Females weren’t allowed to be fighters nor leaders. Their clan leaders were called Dasan. The arrival of former Jedi Knight Allya and their forced settlement on Dathomir started the shift.
Since the Paecian females have an insanely high Midi-chlorians count, Allya trained many to wield the Force. The Paecian allowed this because the Living Force adhered to their philosophy. They believed in the purity of nature and keeping the harmony of the environment. Still, female Force wielders were supposed only be healers and use Force taming on creatures. They weren’t supposed to use the Force in combat.
Under Paecian law, no Paecian was to engage in combat against another Paecian. This would be shattered when female Paecian warred against male Paecian for domination and won. Thus, the Dathomiran civilization was born. They would keep some Paecian features though such as their language, respect for nature, festivals, love of music, and certain laws.
The Dasan had a group of men who helped him govern and provided counsel. It was called the Council of Elders. This would be adopted by most of the Dathomiran clan such as Nightsister elders and Singing Mountain Clan's councilwomen.
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Sights of Dathomir Collection #2
1. Sunset North of Gorgara Falls
2. Paecian Ruins
3. Herbalist's Cliff
4. Nightsisters Subterranean Village
5. Carnivorous Swamp Wil-o-the-whisp
6. Coven Leader Trials
7. Toxic Barbed Beasts
8. Ash Bone Trees, looking as Ribs
9. Sith Ruins on Dathomir
10. Sunset by a Nightsister Temple
[Album Comment: The effort to organize the various holos I have captured during my exploration of Dathomir continues. Of this series, I am partial to the shot of the whisp. It may have tried to eat me, but it was a good hunter, in its little way. -Maul.]
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mayxthexforce · 2 years
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👫 maul and feral if you're still accepting 👀
Send a 👫and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship
Very awkward and tense at first. Neither of them knew how to interact with each other in a way that didn't frustrate them both. Despite this, they were fiercely protective of each other, first out of pride (can't have someone you share blood with getting bested or dying in combat, it makes you look bad), then later on because they finally bonded.
Feral taught Maul Paecian (the language spoken in Dathomir), and also taught him about the Nightsiblings culture, religion and the way they see the force and how it connects everything and everyone.
Once Maul isn't obsessed with making Feral his apprentice is when Feral finally starts learning how to use the force.
Lots of stories about Savage, sad times but also funny times when the stories are about something dumb Savage did.
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zabrak-show · 3 years
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Maybe Talzin/Viscus for 10: in Secret kiss,in the angst/Fluff random kisses prompt list
yes oh gosh, i love these 2 so much, thanks for the request!
Apawi
Pairing: Mother Talzin x Brother Viscus
Rating: Mature for nightbrother/sister mating ritual things, but nothing explicit (please note i don't condone the nightsister treatment of nightbrothers i'm just writing what i think a celebration like this might be for them)
Words: 671
Summary: It's midsummer on Dathomir or Apawi Celebration (Paecian for Sun, idk what else to call it haha) and Talzin and Viscus share a stolen moment away from the festivities.
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It was the day of the Apawi celebration where almost all of Dathomir got together. A day of celebrating light and fertility. Mother Talzin and the sisters picked herbs and plants in their vast gardens days before the event to prepare. Many mating bonds were about to occur, and each sister had to concoct their own unique love spell for the big night. The brothers had rigorous training to prepare for their dangerous tasks. One of the mating rituals was to best a rancor without killing it and escape the bottomless pit they were trapped in with it. Ensuring only the strongest, most innovative, and bravest could breed with the Nightsisters.
Talzin awoke before dawn and prepared herself for the longest day of the year. The nightbrothers ran torches to the outer rim of the field of celebration, marking the boundaries with towering green flames against the now dark pink sky as dawn broke. The air already thick with heat and humidity, only to grow warmer and warmer as more light crested over them.
A quiet meditative prayer with all the brothers and sisters started the festival. Talzin led them in all the soft chanting, now filling the once peaceful valley. Each brought their own small candle to place in the river with wishes or memories to fill the planet's atmosphere and remind them of the light even in the darkest of times. Small flickering green flames made their way down the river as each whispered their own devotions to the river.
The rest of the daylight hours were spent watching the Nightbrothers escape their respective pits of doom with rancors. It was messy and hot and brutal. Not all of the brothers would survive. The nightsisters watched eagerly, cheering their favorite brothers on.
Once the brothers escaped the rancor pit, they could imbibe in celebratory drinks and food. There were meats of every kind the planet had to offer, barbecued, grilled, fried, raw, glazed, baked, as far as the eye could see on a long banquet table. Wines, ales, and sparkling potions lined another table parallel to the foods. The sisters and brothers mingled about eating, drinking, flirting, some already copulating.
Viscus found Talzin in her usual spot. Meditating at a shrine, she lit candles every year for their lost son. She sensed Viscus before he announced himself.
"Someday, our son will come back to us, Brother, someday." Her outstretched hands over the flame showed a shadow of a young Zabrak training in hand-to-hand combat.
"He should be here, with his brothers, training with us." Viscus shook his head and sat next to Talzin.
She removed her hand from the flame, and the vision of the boy disappeared.
"His path had to be different." Her voice was cold and calm, but Viscus knew she was hurting. He'd known her for too long to not understand that about her.
The young Nighsisters and Nightbrothers were all partaking in their respective mating rituals. In beds of grass, in tents, in soft sandy spots of the ground, wherever the love potion sent them.
"Brother, you are still strong and fit. Why are you not mating with the sisters?" She looked over to the tan Nightbrother, still as handsome as the day they met all those years ago for their own mating ritual.
"I've long since taken the role of chaperone for these events, as you are well aware."
"Such a waste," she caressed his face with her long spindly fingers. He couldn't help but lean into it. A touch he so desperately missed. She tilted her ghost-white face into him, and they shared a secret kiss in the final moments of the sunset. Viscus pulled away and looked around in paranoia.
"Mother, it is forbidden for me to engage in any activities without passing the test and drinking a potion."
"You and I have no need for the mating ritual," her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, and their foreheads touched. "We are forever bonded by our love. By our sons."
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taglist:
@lestrange2703 @mock-ing-bird_ing_bird @maulieber @botherbother-blog @emissarydecksetter @wolfpack-arts-industries99 @a-dorin @spookiifi
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ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years
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A Terrible & Beautiful Red - 2
Summary: Dathomir was not a place Din wanted to be. But the Galaxy (and Grogu) had other plans.
Author’s Note: thank you all for the kind response to the first chapter! I hope you all continue to like this! let me know what you think! Perfect commissioned art based on this AU can be found here!
Pairing: Din Djarin/F!Nightsister!Reader (Can also be read as an unnamed OFC. The character is never named and all of her physical descriptors are ‘grey’ and that she keeps her hair in braids.)
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Or read on Ao3 here!
Din usually watched them train from a distance or excused himself to try to work on his ship. He didn’t want Grogu distracted when he was supposed to be training. The little one sabotaged an entire ship to be here, he should be paying attention. But the Nightsister insisted on following him out to the damaged ship with a murmured, “he is at peace when you are near, Mandalorian. Less distracted.” And he could not argue with that.
She spoke softly to the little boy, effortlessly patient. The only emotion passing across her grey face was a small smile when Grogu turned to look at her.
The green flames (Smoke? Sparks? He still did not know) that she so easily conjured in her hands were still so fascinating and he watched Grogu reach toward them and his little hand passed through the green. He did not cry. He did not yell, letting Din know he was hurt.
No.
He laughed.
And her smile widened and Din tried to ignore how something twisted in his chest at the sight.
But that was becoming increasingly difficult. Sometimes in the morning he’d hear her singing—it was a little off key and he didn’t understand the language, but it echoed through the halls of her large, empty home. The home she had easily opened to him and Grogu. She provided everything they might need and asked for nothing in return except a few hours of Grogu’s time each day. She hadn’t asked his name or prodded him to remove his helmet.
Din knew he could. He could walk around without his armor, let the strange sun warm his skin if he wanted. He had broken the Creed and been disavowed from his Covert. According to them, he was Mandalorian no longer. But he could not do it. And Din doubted she would ask anyway. She had her own secrets.
Paecian had always been a difficult language for Din to understand and with how quickly she was speaking with whomever was hiding in the shadows, Din only caught a word every few sentences.
“Ship.”
“Naboo.”
“Try.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you.”
That was all he understood. She was…very polite and whomever was in the shadows seemed to defer to her in every possible way. They were awaiting her instruction, her guidance, her permission. It sounded like a small group of men but Din would never assume. And, again, he did not ask.
But she, apparently, listened.
On the tenth day on Dathomir, Din woke to find a crate of starship parts outside his door. The room was on the far end of the east wing and had been given to him unceremoniously while the red-tinged sun set on their first day. “You are welcome to anything under this roof, Mandalorian. You need only ask,” she had said before disappearing.
He watched as she lifted the crate with a whisper and a twitch of her fingers and floated it along the uneven path back toward his star fighter without Din even asking. It was filled with the correct parts but would take time—more time than usual because he was looking over his shoulder to make sure Grogu was safe.
But every time he looked, she hadn’t moved from her cross-legged position near the base of strangely-colored tree, speaking softly to his ad’ika. It was not a surprise to see them surrounded by floating objects; rocks, leaves, broken pieces of the ship—but Din nearly lost his grip on his soldering gun when he turned and saw them both encased in that eerie, unnatural green smoke. It was like the smoke itself was slithering around them, tightening and coiling. Din opened his mouth to yell but then he heard it.
Grogu laughed.
Din’s mouth closed—slowly—as Grogu’s little green hand reached out, trying again to grasp at the smoke.
And she smiled, cheeks rounding from beneath the fabric. “Yes, see? It cannot harm you, not if you are open to it. It flows through me, through this planet, through everything.” Grogu cooed, as if he understood. Maybe he did.
The green smoke slid away to wrap around the trunks of the trees and then shimmered as it reached the tips of the dark leaves. Again, Grogu reached for it.
Sparks flew and Din cursed as he turned to see half of what he had just thought he had fixed already on fire (again). “Dank farrik.” His hand slapped against ship and he turned away in a poor attempt to keep himself from raging for just a moment. But a flash of green had him turning back and he watched as the green smoke smothered the flames and then dissipated.
“Perhaps it would suit you to start again tomorrow?” The woman stepped closer, now balancing Grogu on her hip.
Din wanted to tell her to just tend to Grogu (who was currently mouthing at one of the golden chains around her neck) but then his comms chirped three times in a row, letting him know that not only did he have an incoming holo, but he had several missed messages as well. They only registered when he had been close to his ship—the rest of the planet too underdeveloped to even allow him off-world communications, apparently. He opened them and saw they were all from Greef Karga, the rate of a bounty getting steadily more impressive. “I need you, Mando.”
Of course he did.
Grogu made a grumbling noise, even with the gold in his mouth, and Din had to sigh. The little one could feel his agitation and reached up and slapped at her face, much like he did to Din. Her grey eyes moved to look at the little one in her arms for a moment before she nodded. “If you are needing to leave, I have another ship.”
Din bit back the grumble he felt building but tightened his grip on the wrench for a moment before gently setting it down. “Does it have a functioning hyperdrive?” Is it capable of getting off this horrendous planet? Was it built this century?
“I think so,” she answered, her back to him already. Grogu peeked at him over her shoulder. “Follow me, Mandalorian.”
And for the second time, he followed her through the strange forest and red dirt. He listened to her murmur to Grogu, pointing out toward the shadows. Was it an animal she saw? Was she naming the different types of plants? Din didn’t know and didn’t ask, still strangely unnerved by the stillness of the planet.
But soon the forest gave way to another cluster of steep, sharp-faced red rocks—but that was not what Din was staring at.
“This is your ship?”
The Nightsister hummed and looked at it with a frown. “It is. I…inherited it.”
It was not a ship. It was a yacht. A Nau-ur-class yacht, to be precise. Even with a few decades since it was built and less than delicate handling and storage, it was still a beauty. It stretched high into the pink sky and was an inky black with shining matching viewports. He hadn’t seen a ship of that size since his last job on Canto Bight years ago and that one had belonged to one of the last of the real pre-Empire gangsters.
“It is yours to use,” she said easily. Almost as if she were describing the weather. “Will it suit your needs?”
“I’m sure it will,” Din said, voice nearly strangled behind the helmet.
She hummed, a low sound at the back of her throat, and she turned to look down at Grogu and pulled the golden chain from between his teeth. “I shall see you when you return then,” she murmured something else, and by the tone Din knew it was some sort of endearment. “If you chose…to return.” Carefully, she handed him Grogu and stepped back.
“Why would we not return?” He asked, almost thankful he did not have to tell her that Grogu would not stay with her while he was away.
Her grey eyes were unreadable. “Dathomir is not kind to visitors.” Another cryptic jumble of words that made no sense to him. But, for now? For now it didn’t matter.
**
“Will he wield the green like you?” Din asked.
She smiled and shook her head—she was full of smiles now. She had been ever since he and Grogu came back with her yacht and asked to resume training. Her smiles grew more and more frequent with each time they returned.
Din quietly accepted the fact that he found her beautiful but he buried it down in the recesses of his chest, never to be spoken or acted upon. She had her secrets and he had his. One of her secrets was how his ship was fixed by the time he came back from his third trip off world. Another was the pile of jewels and Imperial credits stored in one of the rooms of the yacht (he had found it by accident, looking for the ship’s refresher). And the one he liked most was the smile she tried to hide from him whenever he thanked her for something he didn’t recall telling her he liked—this time it was a jug of spotchka that had been waiting for him outside his and Grogu’s rooms.
“No,” she said with another smile. “The green,” she sounded like she was fighting a laugh, “comes from this planet, from Dathomir, from my blood. I am merely hoping to show him how to connect to what he calls The Force in a different way. He is strong. He just needs a bit of guidance.”
Currently, Grogu was chasing a frog-like creature through the tall grass near the riverbank. He was happy here. That was what Din wanted. Controlling the powers he didn’t understand was a perk, that was true, but he just wanted Grogu to be happy, to be safe.
And he hated to admit that Dathomir had become a safe place for them both.
No remnant of the Empire dared follow them here. Bo-Katan and Paz Viszla and all the others that coveted the Darksaber had turn and run after chasing him to the Outer Rim when they realized where he was going.
“Of course you run and hide—run and hide there, the place where the downfall of Mandalore began,” Bo-Katan had all but screamed at him as she nursed a blaster wound between the slats of her armor. Din had been lucky that time. But he didn’t understand what she meant. What did Dathomir have to do with Mandalore and its destruction?
Another question for another time. For now he listened to her try to teach him.
“Your son wields something beautiful and sacred. But he has been stifled by the teachings of his former masters. The light side, the dark side,” she waved a dismissive hand. “It means nothing. Balance is needed. Balance is what I am trying to teach.” She was quiet then and he watched her eyes track Grogu finally grab the frog and then devour it. “many have said the Nightsisters were nothing but darkness incarnate. But my mother was full of nothing but love for me, for this planet. She told me tales of how we cared for each other and cultivated this planet’s blessed gifts. All we ever did was want to be left alone.” She pulled her lips into her mouth for a moment, the one indicator of her embarrassment.
Din wanted to tell her that he could listen to her for hours, that she had nothing to be embarrassed about, that she was kind. But he didn’t. He stood beside her in silence and watched his son play on the riverbank.
That night, while Grogu slept in the bassinet she had given him, Din flicked through the holo (having finally managed to connect way out here) and found two book chips that…might prove useful. They were available for pick up on Corellia within two cycles but could have them delivered to Nevarro for an extra fee. Din drummed his fingers against his chest as he looked at the cost before submitting his order.
Thank you for your purchase! Rise of the Death Watch: The Mandalorian Civil War and An Abbreviated History of Dathomir, thirty-third edition will be delivered soon!
A/N: Let me know what you think!
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a-dorin · 4 years
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exception
pairing: maul x human!reader 
word count: 685
warnings: none really. some tooth-rotting fluff. mentions of periods. mentions of pms... umm.. lemme know if there’s anything else. 
a/n: not me indulging in self-projection fic. i’m currently suffering from a migraine/my period. also, the reader is human in this. i’m sorry to all my peeps who have alien ocs :// i hope you guys enjoy. it’s been a long time since i’ve typed for my favorite zabrak <3 
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maul loathed the human species. 
he despised their fragility. their weaknesses.  how pathetic they were, really.   how vulnerable they were to harm. how they possessed a multitude of health issues and diseases. how every single human was different in their own way, carrying a variety of complexities along with them. 
stars, how his lip curled in disgust at the mere thought of a human. 
yet, he was here, with you wrapped around his frame, running a steady hand through your scalp, massaging your roots. the other was absentmindedly running circles on your exposed back, dipping from the junction of where your shoulder blades met, down to the curve of your spine, just above your butt. 
a low, hushed tune drips from his lips as he does so, an old paecian lullaby. one he swore was erased from his memory he years passed, but it just flowed with such ease from his mouth. 
“are you feeling any better?” 
you stir, wrinkling your nose as another spasm of pain ripples through your skull, the pain shrill and unforgiving. 
“no.”
“you know how much i don’t like seeing you suffer like this,” his voice is delicate, careful not to be too loud for your sensitive state, “i wish there was more that i could do.”
“you are all i need right now,” you whisper, half-dazed from sleep, half-awake from the discomfort, “just, stay here.”
there’s a rumble in his chest, warmth blossoming within his two hearts. a throaty purr vibrates his upper half, the hand that was tangled in your hair drifting towards your face. 
he holds your cheek for a moment, the pad of his callused thumb savoring the smoothness of your skin, the way it feels so wonderful under his fingertips, “you know i would never leave you here like this. i’d worry too much while i was away.”
there’s a beat of silence as you snuggle closer to him, wriggling your body so that his warmth could envelop you. his tender touch and cautious demeanor have you melting, as he was typically never one to show such affection. 
however, he wanted to swath you with it, especially when you needed it most. 
and maul knew this was a monthly occurrence. it was almost like clockwork, even. he knew when it would start to the exact day. you whole aura would shift. you would become more susceptible to the migraines that would rack your skull. you would experience cramps in your abdomen. sometimes so badly that it would keep him up all hours of the night, holding you in his arms as you sobbed and sobbed, begging for the pain to stop.
maker, did maul wish more than anything he could help the pain subside.  
he hated those aspects of the human anatomy. the menstrual cycle. why did humans have such a complicated way of doing things? particularly, he didn’t like seeing how physically weak it made you at times. 
oh, how fragile you were like this. 
maul leans forward, placing a gentle kiss on your head. you murmur a string of incoherent babbles. something about a thank you. or, was it i love you? the zabrak couldn’t quite make out the words. 
“i love you, my shining star,” maul resumes his actions, his touch so achingly wonderful as you fall into a deep slumber. 
oh, how maul did not favor how he got here. how you were in such despair. yet, the tranquility of the moment, the way your heartbeat synchs with his, the way you just fit so perfectly against him, a glimmer of happiness bubbles up. 
he’s content like this, really.
the zabrak was well aware he would be doing this again next month. and the next, and the one after that. but, truly, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t all that bad. just an excuse to dismiss his duties, to tend to you. to savor moments like these. ones that would stick in his memory for years to come. 
oh, how maul loved you. so much. 
maul didn’t like humans. 
but you. 
you were the only exception. 
his favorite human. 
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
tagging some maul mutuals: @maulieber​ @justalittlecloud​ @zabrak-show​ @elenamiria​ @anakinswhore​ @mother-0f-monsters​ @maximumninjavoid​
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danipixel · 4 years
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Just a Taste
Maul x Reader
Warning: Explicit under the cut
Maul has not felt the touch of a lover on his skin, natural or otherwise, for quite some time. No fingers, no lips, no tongue. Nothing. You decide to remedy that.
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Maul doesn't let anyone see him like this. For a man that seems to have no fear in showing his body, both the natural and synthetic, he is quite reserved when it comes to where the two meet. This is as much an act of trust as it is sexual. Nobody is allowed to see this. Nobody but you.
You begin your exploration by tracing the tattoos that run down his abdomen. First with fingers, then trailing behind with your lips. Every new trail you follow down his body brings a pleased hum from his throat. Plenty of encouragement to keep going. Finally you trace every black trail and make your way to the large scar that cuts through his skin like the remnants of a wildfire. Where there should be brilliant red and inky black, there's only jagged pale flesh pressed against cool metal. You run your lips across the entirety of this new landscape, pressing gentle kisses as you go. "Can you feel this?"
Maul answers with a hesitant nod. A few kisses later he elaborates on his answer. "Some of it. Most of the scar is numb but I could feel you in a few places."
You work your way back up and place a kiss just below his navel. "Show me where you felt me." He points to theee different places where he felt your touch, and in those three places, you leave lingering kisses once again. You can't take away all the years of pain he's suffered because of this, but you can try.
Now you work your down, trailing your fingers from hot skin over the cooler metal. It's warmer than you expected. You press your fingers firmer here than you would have a minute ago. He told you once before that while he does have touch sensation across the whole of his cybernetics, it's muted in most places. The touch of your fingertips across his hips causes Maul to jerk upwards every so slightly. "Are you ticklish?" The thought is ridiculous but the words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them.
Maul breathes out a quick laugh at the absurdity of the question. "No, not ticklish. It has just been quite a long time since another has been able to touch me there."
"How long?"
"Twelve years? Maybe more." Twelve years with not a single touch from another being? That won't do. Not at all. You knead your fingers along his pelvis, working down to where hard metal gives way to something much more appealing.
You run both hands along the base of his cock, just barely letting your fingers graze the soft synthetic skin. At that his hips momentarily jump forward. Twelve years is much too long. You're going to make up for all the time he's lost. All the pleasure taken from him. Starting now.
You wrap your hand around his cock and give him a few agonizingly slow pumps, running your thumb slowly over the head and back down over a few ridges. Maul lets out a growl that tapers off into a whine. The finest drug in the galaxy. The narcotic effect of the sounds of his pleasure take hold of you and you slowly lick up the base of his cock, back and forth over every ridge, before settling at the top and circling your tongue around the sensitive head. The taste of him lacks the slight saltiness of sweat you can find on the rest of his skin but beyond that, you find no difference.
He's been so patient, letting you explore and caress and play. He should be rewarded. You give him one more lick up and over but rather than pull away you slide him into your mouth and suck firmly onto him. Maul nearly chokes at the sudden sensation and grabs hold of your hair as if to ground himself. "Ohhhh....fuc-" The rest is lost on you as his curses shift from Basic to Paecian.
You take pity on the poor dumbstruck zabrak and begin to bob your head along the length of him, letting your lips do most of the work at first. He can't help himself and shallowly thrusts up into your mouth while you pleasure him. You can already taste the precum leaking from him to coat your lips. He won't be able to last long. Maul's Paecian curses have been replaced with occasional grunts and slight growls. That won't do. You want your lover to be loud, to absolutely lose himself. So you do something cruel. You sit up slightly and let him fall from your mouth. "What...why did you st-"
You quickly open your mouth and take him back into you, running your tongue back and forth as you work your way down. When you get him as far back into your throat as you can take, you swallow. Hard. Just like before even cries out. Good. You do it once again, then as you pull back up, you hollow your cheeks and make your way slowly to the tip and back down, never once losing the hold you have on him. His hand tightens in your hair as he moans and bucks up into you, desperate for more. More of you lips, your tongue, whatever magic spell you're casting on him with them. He needs it all. So you continue to give it to him and more.
You can feel his climax coming even before he says anything. Not that he can say much beyond the moans falling from his lips. You run your tongue in a circle one more time around the length of him and then you suck, hard. Maul completely comes undone. He nearly bends in half as pleasure takes him and he spills into your mouth. If you could describe the taste of him, it would be rather plain, yet slightly sweet. Definitely not what you were expecting. You focus on swallowing every drop he gives you but it's difficult to concentrate on anything but the deep groans mingled with Paecian curses bubbling up from his chest.
Once he falls back panting onto the bed, you crawl up his body, again leaving a kiss here or there as you go until you finally come to his face. "Well, was that everything you expected?"
Maul is still breathing heavily but he takes hold of your face to gaze at you. Maker, his eyes are so filled with lust, they look more like eclipses than their usually burning suns. "Everything and more." Then he noticed a small drop of his cum making it's way down your chin. "But it appears you missed a drop." Before you can lick it away he runs his tongue up your chin and and lips to gather the small drop before pushing it into your mouth along with his tongue. You stay like that awhile, you tasting him everywhere, Maul tasting himself on your tongue. He pulls away and now it's your turn to lose your words. "Can we uh keep-keep going?"
Maul's answer is to quickly switch your places one the bed, pinning you in place with his body. "Darling, if you thought I was planning on either of us sleeping tonight, you were greatly mistaken."
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aurora-light-blog · 7 months
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History of Dathomir series: Allya fanfic
I found the just six-hundred-year-old history for Dathomir so lackluster. I wanted to expand upon it, which is something that I wish new canon would do. For this series, each tale focuses on major events in Dathomir history. Starting with the Paecian, who they are and how they arrived on Dathomir. Of course, Allya is the main character of this tale that begin about four thousand years ago. Yes, you probably guessed it. We’re in Old Republic Exar Kun time 😊. You can expect to see some familiar characters from the comics and the game.
As for my blog prologue and epilogue, it was originally supposed to be included in the tale. However, it didn’t seem to go with the story. I decided to use it instead as an independent and promotion for the fanfic. There are going to be three of them, which feature Luthen Rael (Andor) and Rubina (Star Wars Galaxies). Anyway, take care.
Allya - DarthChocolate - Star Wars Legends - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]
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The lingering statues and architecture of the Paecian Empire that litter Dathomir's surface have one common trait that seems to be ubiquitous, delivered at every possible opportunity:
A gaping mouth.
Whether it is a statue with a slack jaw, an embossment of a beast with a sharp toothed maw, or a wide chasm of a door way, all of it is about open mouths.
My difficulties in consideration, I feel as if I am being mocked.
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spookiifi · 3 years
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Castles and Clouds
Oops I wrote more angst about Sasha, Maul, and Gem
Feel free to scream at me as much as you want
Warnings for death mention, grief, trauma, just huge angst overall
Let’s jump right into it.
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The servants of the Sundari Palace found Maul holding Sasha’s body. A damned heart attack while they were simply chatting about their anniversary that evening.
Her body was growing colder by the minute and her greying eyes stared at the throne room’s ceiling.
He muttered to himself. “No...no no no please not you. Not you too.” First his brother, now Sasha. His muttering turned into full weeping, screaming at his servants and security to get out.
“Please come back, Sasha. I can’t do this on my own!”
He was cursed, he swore that his life was a curse.
Sasha was given a proper Mandalorian funeral that evening. He never planned on spending his anniversary alone.
That night he had torn up the pillows and nearly destroyed everything in sight. It was all gone and nothing mattered anymore.
Before he could smash the lamp into the ground, distressed wailing caught his attention.
Through his rage Maul had forgotten about Gem. How could he?
She had just turned one, and memories of her first birthday flooded his mind. He remembered her face covered in frosting, happy as a loth cat.
Gem was all he had left. He approached the cradle where his baby girl cried out for love and attention. She could feel his pain through the force.
Maul’s face softened as he gently picked up the child. Her cries turned into shaky breaths as Maul rocked the child, humming a song in Paecian. She eventually fell asleep on his shoulder.
He didn’t sleep that night, but at least his daughter was calm and well rested. He would protect the child with his life.
It had been five years since the incident, and all had remained the same. Though his only source of happiness was his little crystal, Gem.
That afternoon, he noticed her drawing at the table. He was proud of her creativity, just like
No. Don’t think about it.
“That looks wonderful, Gem.” He smiled as she drew them together, until she started scribbling another stick figure.
This person was blue with squiggly red hair.
“Who is that?”
Gem set down her marker. “The lady with red hair in my dreams. She likes to visit me in my dreams and hold me tight.”
She couldn’t be talking about...Gem was merely a baby when it happened so there was no way.
“What else about this lady?” His voice cracked. “Does she talk to you?”
The little girl nodded. “She whispers ‘I love and miss you very much.’ She misses you too...Dad?”
Maul held his face in his hand, openly weeping.
“Please don’t cry! It’s okay!” Gem grew silent. “I did something wrong. I’m sorry.”
He lifted his head. “Oh, no, little crystal. You didn’t do anything wrong. Come here.” He hugged Gem close. “I promise.”
After reading her a story and kissing her goodnight, Maul headed to their- his quarters.
He couldn’t stop the tears from coming again.
“Your daughter’s right, you know.”
Maul stood straight up in his seat and whirled around at the voice. His breath caught in his throat.
Sasha’s force ghost greeted him. “I knew she’d find out eventually.”
“You’re not a jedi. How is that possible?” He managed to choke out.
She shrugged. “The force wills it. You still look handsome as ever.” Sasha smiled. “You’re doing great being a father. But you need to let go of me, Maul.”
Her hands felt so warm on his face, even though she wasn’t physically there.
“I can’t. I failed at saving you. That day still haunts me.”
“There’s nothing you could do, my darling. It could’ve happened at any time.”
He could still feel her warm kiss on his lips even though he could pass right through her.
“Please, for me and Gem.”
His lower lip trembled and he finally nodded. “I love you so much.”
“And I love you too. You’re already an amazing father, and forever you will be.”
She brought him into one last kiss, long and passionate.
Then faded away in the bedroom. He heard her voice as her spirit left.
“Goodnight, my love. Until we meet again in the afterlife.”
---
Once again feel free to scream at me.
13 notes · View notes
fallenrepublick · 3 years
Note
sorry im dumb but what does "Nah caret ran'cuzo ceh'seah," mean? or in what language is it? i can't find anything like it in the paecian dictionary...
I don't use Paecian, actually! Really, that's the Nightsister language, and while the Brothers can speak it, it is not their own.
It means,
"We are still here."
20 notes · View notes
danger-xylophones · 4 years
Text
Family Reunion Part 10
{masterlist}
Warnings: Have some more angst, my friends. Some character death-as in It happened in the past TPM, some description of pain/injury, a contactless duel, brief mention of suicidal thoughts. 
This got really dark towards the end, I’m sorry. 
Notes I’m so sorry this took so long, I was going through some stuff and this was a real humdinger of an installment to get hung up on. 
Ya’ll need to thank @aberionart for this even getting completed. If not for her art giving me the motivation to attack this beast of a chapter, it wouldn’t have gotten done. Thank you for helping me get out of my writing funk! I always love your art and how positive and supportive you are of everyone! 
PADAWAN WILD
Words: 6.7k
Taglist:@and-claudia // @tararuthven // @aberionart // @noiralei // @pinkiemme // @darthsmol // @zabrak-show // @obi-wan-kanbonemi // @videogamesandpoorlifechoices // @justalittlecloud
<- Previous 
………………………………………..
“Well,” a voice unlike any you’d ever heard before seared over your ears-creating a cold sense of dread that dripped down your spine like ice water. You flicked your eyes open cautiously and raised your head off of Wild’s, simultaneously pulling the young boy closer to you. “What do we have here?” It continued, echoing all around with a low, completely unnatural reverb. You couldn’t help but pick up on the way the owner of the voice pronounced the letter ‘w’-like a ‘v’ instead. It...it was similar to the way Maul used to speak after trying to teach you paecian. It was always so funny to you that speaking in his mother tongue accidentally made him develop a bit of an accent for a little while afterward. Reluctantly, you rose to your feet, keeping Wild close to your front though as your gaze trailed down the ramp to observe Savage standing next to a tall creature clad all in red. They had a high forehead and black tattoos over their face in large blocks and groups. Eventually, you locked eyes with them, e/c staring into piercing, eerie blue. “Ah, you must be padawan L/n.” 
“Mother Talzin, I presume?” You greeted cordially despite the agonizing urge to reach for your sabers and rid the galaxy of the witch. “I am...honored to finally meet you in person. But, if you please, I go by Y/n as I have forgone any affiliation with the Jedi.” 
Mother Talzin hummed, moving unnervingly slow as she bowed her head just enough to acknowledge your confession. The strange tentacle-like pieces of cloth affixed to the back of her cloak followed the movement, slithering in the non-existent wind. “Very well, Y/n.” The Nightmother scanned you in silence after her statement, most likely trying to size you up. You kept your chin raised as you turned to face her more and pushed Wild behind you. Immediately, the witch caught the movement and her eyes zeroed in on Wild. “Ah, and who might this be?” 
You swallowed and let your eyes flicker over to Savage for help but the yellow zabrak could offer none. “This is Wild.” You eventually explained. 
“Your son?” The Nightmother observed though you had the slightest inclination that, though it sounded like a question, it was a statement designed to make you uncomfortable. And it was working. You nodded briefly, tongue darting out to quickly wet your lips-you were getting nervous. Mother Talzin became quiet again, now scanning over Wild who was quietly peeking out from behind you, one hand fisted into the fabric of your tunic and the other itching for one of the sabers on your hip. Evidently, he was as uncomfortable as you were. “He is a fine specimen.” You bristled, stepping to the side to shield Wild from her gaze entirely as your hand landed on your saber. Talzin looked back up at you and spoke with a wry smile, “It is a shame he is a half-blood, he would have made an excellent nightbrother.” 
Over my dead body. You thought bitterly and fixed the witch with the most murderous stare you could muster. Talzin was unfazed by your offense and simply directed her attention to the other red zabrak in the cargo hold-Maul, who had sequestered himself behind boxes once more now much further into the hold. The guilt that followed your realization that he was hiding from you stung more than any blaster bolt would. 
You were pulled from your misery by the sound of the force swirling and converging on one spot, ominous whispers and chants following where it went as a green mist started to fill the cargo hold. Mother Talzin, still stood at the end of the ramp was swirling her hands around a steadily forming glowing green ball of her magic. “Come,” she commanded, her voice taking on a higher reverb, “Let us fix what has been broken.” She calmly released the green ball and it glided over to Maul, bathing the cargo hold in an unsettling yellowish green as it went that had Wild clinging tighter to you as he poked his head around your waist to watch. Your hand fell to his shoulder, wrapping it in a tight grip as you followed the orb with your eyes. “Come to me.” Talzin continued. “Come to me, come to me.” The orb disappeared briefly as it weaved between crates, only trackable by the ominous green glow. “Come to me, lost one, come to me. Follow us, son of Dathomir. Follow me, lost one.Come, child of Dathomir. Follow me.” Talzin urged once more, the whispering and chanting echoing ominously back, till Maul finally began to listen. Originally shying away from the magic, he now followed it-shoving boxes aside and chasing after it like a child enchanted by an odd bug that flitted through the air. 
You started to back up to give Maul more room and encouraged Wild to do the same with a hand on his shoulder. He rolled it and your hand fell away. It felt like someone had stabbed you through the chest. You froze completely, eyes glued to the half-zabrak who didn’t acknowledge you and instead kept his attention fixed on Maul as he followed Mother Talzin and Savage away. 
The hangar fell silent. Neither of you moved. 
You rolled your lips in, anxiously gnawing on them. You had to say something. “Wild…” you began in a soft voice. 
“Don’t.” The word was whispered, barely audible, but it bombarded your ears like a barrage of blaster fire. “Just...don’t.” You had never heard your son sound more defeated. 
“Alright.” You swallowed in an attempt to keep the tremble at bay. “Wild, are you okay?” 
“...Yeah.” He lied and you sucked in a breath. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 
Force, you’d messed up. “Okay…” you began slowly, stalling on every syllable that left you, “what do you want?”
“...” Wild shifted but continued to stare at the opposing wall. You could hear the answer he wanted to give as it floated all around you, suspended by the anxieties of the both of you. Force, you’d messed up. The truth. It mocked you. Bouncing off of the walls and around your feet-all emanating from the only other person in the room. The truth, the truth, the truth. “A duel.” 
The reply caught you off guard, Wild’s thoughts and true desires disappeared in an instant which returned the both of you to that deathly still cargo hold once more. “What?” You asked, taken aback. 
Wild finally turned to face you, his little red face set in the most serious expression he could muster. To you it was the perfect cross between Maul’s scowl and your glare and you did not like being on the receiving end of it. That look was meant for strangers that were too nosy for their own good. That look was a defence you had taught him. That look was not supposed to be used against you. “You joked about training earlier and then you asked me what I wanted. Well, I want to duel as part of my training for today.” The young boy asserted with crossed arms. 
You blinked, regarding your son uncertainly. Wild didn’t like to duel because he could never beat you and that always frustrated him and he’d get all huffy and sulk in the farthest place from you. “Alright…” you began. You continued to size Wild up. Your son had a plan and he was determined to box you in, that much you could tell, but what that plan was was unclear. The truth. That was his goal. And suddenly you knew what he was going to do. Both he and yourself knew that you were the most open about Maul when you were preoccupied. So, in theory, if Wild could distract you with a fight he could weasel more information out of you. A good plan but not one you’d go along with. “Here.” You tossed your blue lightsaber to the boy who scrambled to catch it. “Take up position.” You commanded, switching into your teaching voice-the one you had once used on younglings during your tenure as a padawan, the one Ki-Adi had used on you, the one you loathed to use on Wild. Following your own instructions, you ignited your lightsaber, green blade bathing the cargo hold in a complimenting glow, and dipped into a slight crouch. The hilt of the saber twirled elegantly in your hand-a practiced manuever Maul had helped you perfect so you could slip between forward and reverse grips with ease. Wild faltered. Evidently, he had been prepared to argue. But, your son reacted swiftly by correcting his face and mimicking your pose though he kept his saber in front of him pointing up. “I don’t need to repeat the rules-no contact, tap out when you need to, and nothing that could endanger either of our lives. It is crucial to be aware of all that is around you in a duel and a great way to practice is by following the rules laid out during training.” You quickly rambled off the same spiel you always repeated when you and Wild dueled. “If any real injuries occur, we end the duel immediately. Understood?” 
“Understood.” Wild confirmed with a firm nod. 
The game began. You kept your eyes trained on your son and remained still, your only motion the infrequent twirl of your lightsaber as you gave the boy the opportunity to make the first move. He was beginning to look more and more uncertain. Still, he took a step to the right-you took a step to the left. You took another step, he did as well and thus you both began to slowly circle each other. Wild shifted his grip, slipping into the opening stance for Form II and you mimicked him-your own legs taking on a wider stance as you brought your lightsaber slightly off to your side pointing up and held between both hands. Form IV, the form you’d adapted to survive. In your training you had always favored Form V, liking the way it offered both defense and offense, but after meeting Maul you’d started to favor IV. Wild, on the other hand, was a more defensive fighter (probably because he was younger) and he relied heavily on the basics and Form III. But he was nervous-he was vulnerable. And he wasn’t going to make the first move. Noble but potentially dangerous. You moved in. 
You darted forward, lightsaber swinging for his left leg as it was the most exposed. Wild moved quickie and swung his blade down to block it and you fell back. Your son was too careful-too afraid of fighting to chase your strike. It was something you were working on-you’d forgone teaching him IV for now and opted to begin V for him to encourage the introduction of more offensive moves. It was a slow process. 
Spotting another opening on his right, you moved in again. Wild reacted quicker this time and met the strike with enough time and force to push you back. Good. But that left him exposed to a kick to the ribs. You brought your leg up quickly and stopped just before you made contact. “Protect your vitals, Wild.” Was your simple instruction as you moved away before he could retaliate. You were moving quicker now, feinting to the right before swooping in for his left. And Wild was beginning to loosen up-reacting more sharply as he did so. But still, “Wild, loosen up. You’re far too tense for any effective combat.” You corrected with a well aimed poke with your index finger to his kidneys. It was an attack he would’ve been able to block had he spun in time. Wild whirled around to strike at you but you were too quick, already leaping over him to continue mock-striking his sides and other exposed vitals. Wild was growing frustrated. He spun on his heel faster than anything you'd seen from him this whole time and brought the blue lightsaber down. You met the strike. He moved to the right, you matched him. He moved his blade to the left, you twirled yours to meet the strike and pushed him back. A huff slipped from him as he recovered and came at you once more. You blocked it and quickly brought your leg up-attempting to “kick” him in the side again. He took one hand off of his blade to block the strike which was a critical mistake. You spun around swiftly and caught Wild’s blade once more and began to steadily force him to back up. Locked in a stalemate with you steadily placing more of your weight in the strike and Wild perpetually collapsing under it you made your next move carefully. You snapped up, removing your weight with a quick spin of your saber that had Wild’s wrist twisting back uncomfortably. He yelped and dropped the saber. You deactivated yours and stepped away while your son assessed his wrist. “Loosen your grip next time, it will help you maneuver the blade more fluidly which, in turn, will make a move like that much more difficult for your opponent to pull off.” 
Wild muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch, eyes trained on the fallen lightsaber as if he could make it combust with his mind. “Would you like to try again?” There was no verbal response from the young boy. He, instead, bent down and scooped the weapon up again-inspecting it as though he had never seen it before. He was silent for a few more seconds. 
“When can I get my own lightsaber?” He finally asked and met your e/c eyes with his saffron ones. “Yours is too light. It feels like I’m holding nothing.” Too light. You knew Wild didn’t like using your blue saber-while it was the heavier of the two you weilded it was still built to be lightweight like your green one-though it wasn’t a complaint he voiced often. You shifted, your stoic, teaching oriented facade falling away for a moment. Wild was proving to be more and more like Maul as time progressed-he favored brute strength and speed despite being a defensive fighter. With a deep breath in you steadied yourself, mind flitting to the location of the lightsaber you had intended to give him-it would have been perfect for your son despite only being half of his father’s original weapon. You had rebalanced it (your pet project you used to lessen the ache in your chest when Maul’s “death” was a fresh wound). You made sure that the energy dispersion was adequate but the blade still deadly. You’d cleaned it and sealed the bottom up to remove the jagged edge left from when Kenobi sliced your love’s weapon. You’d restored it. But the kyber crystal was removed: taken out to avoid potential injury of you or your son should it decide to malfunction and placed in a hidden compartment in the bottom of your green saber. 
“I told you-once I finish teaching you Form V, we’ll try and sneak onto Illum or somewhere else to find you a kyber crystal.” You informed placidly, keeping your eyes on your son. You filed away the knowledge of Maul’s saber for now. Wild grumbled under his breath again and you raised an eyebrow at him. “Would you like to try again?” You asked once more. He didn’t answer verbally, merely slipped into the opening stance for V this time. With an acknowledging nod, you readied your own weapon. 
Wild struck first this time: darting forward with as much speed as he could muster. Instead of blocking it, you fell back and doubled around to strike at his back. But Wild had learned and fell forward causing you to stumble which gave him time to whirl around. He brought his saber down towards your leg but you blocked it. Instead of backing off like you thought he would, your son continued to press his weight down. “Good, Wild, good.” You commended in as warm a tone you could muster. “But watch your back leg because…” you spun out of the lock and mimicked his earlier strike though you stopped before you made contact. “If I was a real enemy, that would be the first thing to go for.” Wild didn’t acknowledge the instruction. He, instead, launched right into another volley of strikes. “Your wrist, sweetpea, use your wrist instead of your whole arm-it’s faster, more maneuverable, and it doesn’t take as much energy per strike.” You corrected again. There was a muttered complaint under his breath but he did correct his grip. You took the chance to lob your own series of strikes against your son. His blocking was a little sloppy but he had improved since the last time you sparred. 
You were getting bored though. Without warning, you raised a hand and used the force to pull your son off balance. He hit the durasteel with a loud thump, the lightsaber clattering on the floor next to him. Almost immediately, he slammed his hands down and sat up to regard you with the most scathing scowl he could. “That’s cheating!” Wild shrieked at you. 
You tilted your head and shrugged. “Your opponent will do whatever they can to gain the advantage-you must be prepared.” You explained placidly whilst inspecting the hilt of your lightsaber. “Again.” Returning your attention to the half-zabrak, you slipped into your opening stance once more. The young boy sighed exasperatedly and snatched up his fallen weapon. Your son was starting to get frustrated which told you it was almost time to take a break. “Once more and then we’ll stop.” Nothing. “Fair?” A low sigh and the igniting of the blade once more was his reply. This time, you didn’t wait for him to strike. You surged forward, aiming a strike for Wild’s neck at as slow a pace as you could manage. Wild met it and flicked you away but you were quick on the uptake and resumed. Another strike towards his leg, towards his arm, and his hip-each one deflected and reciprocated. Wild was getting better at tapping into V, relying less and less on the purely defensive tactics he always relied on. But, he was getting tired; his strikes were getting sloppy. You weren’t faring much better. A headache had formed-the two epicenters either side your skull. It was strange. There was a bizarre climbing sensation that accompanied it-like two hands clawing up either temple. You were very grateful that you decided this would be the last round as a quick nap seemed to be in order. 
Wild was still on the offensive, attacking with all the strength he had but he was slowing down quick. Again, you raised your hand and pushed him away using the force. The boy sighed low in his throat-the sound bordering on a growl. But, his attacks resumed all the same. You repeated your own actions. “Stop.” The growl was more coherent this time. You both repeated. “I said stop that!” Wild snapped again, diving forward. You furrowed your brows and fell back to avoid the strike entirely. You raised your hand once more and Wild froze mid step, held in place by an invisible grip. 
“Wild, are you alright?” You asked, teacher facade fading entirely as you sheathed your saber and took a step towards him. “We can call it quits if you’d like-!”
“Will you stop that?” Wild yelled and in his anger, he managed to escape your grip. The boy recovered quickly while you were left floundering, trying desperately to understand what was happening. But you weren’t fast enough. Wild set his face in a scowl, his eyes flickering a strange color for just a moment, and raised both of his hands and your back collided with the opposite wall. 
You didn’t know what had happened. One minute, you and Obi Wan were stuck behind ray shields, helplessly watching the ensuing fight between Master Qui-Gon and your love, your husband, Maul, and the next, you were curling over Master Qui-Gon’s body in a fruitless attempt to urge him to cling to life while Obi Wan went for Maul. You knew what Maul was. You knew what he could do. But to see him do it? 
You were trembling, eyes not straying from the two figures locked in combat. You didn’t know what you were feeling but there was a lot of it that caused an anxious swirling cyclone to manifest in the pit of your stomach. One hand curled around your barely formed bump-was that really the father of your child? The one that could kill without thought? No. You told yourself. No, that is not my Maul. That...that is Darth Maul. There was a sudden squeeze of your hand that momentarily distracted you from the fear now slowly consuming you. Qui-Gon was still fighting. 
“Master Qui-Gon!” You exclaimed quietly, returning your attention to the dying man. “Master Qui-Gon, speak to me, please.” You begged the Jedi. Almost painfully, his eyelids fluttered open. 
“O-Obi Wan? Where...where is Obi Wan?” He wheezed and looked around as best he could. 
Tears pricked your eyes as you opened your mouth to answer. “Fighting Maul, maste-” You were cut off-your body suddenly airborne. You flew away from the fallen Jedi’s side until your back collided rather harshly with a durasteel wall on the opposite side of Qui-Gon. Pain ricocheted up your spine at the sensation as your eyes immediately tried to take in your sudden shift in surroundings. Your gaze settled on Maul and Obi Wan, the former stood with his hand outstretched towards you and his lightsaber at his side. There was an unreadable expression on his face that was dominated by concern. Rightfully so, you should think, from having practically flung you across the room. Still, it was clear that he hadn’t meant to launch you into the wall-a minor comfort in contrast to the dawning understanding that you had been so foolish. You were a traitor to your people. You were in love with a Sith. 
“Mom! Mom, please! I-I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-to throw you. I was just, just angry and I don’t know what happened. Mom?” You were brought back to reality by the frantic shaking of your shoulders, the stinging in your lower back, and the throbbing of your head. Not to mention the downright terrified tremor in Wild’s voice. Your eyes flickered open. Panicked saffron met your unfocused e/c. “Mom!” Wild exclaimed and launched forward, arms wrapping around your neck. 
“Sweetpea, what happened?” You kept your voice quiet as you returned your son’s panicked hug. It was a little awkward given your current seating against a box on the floor but you voiced no complaint. 
The boy pulled back and your heart broke at the sight of tears gathering in his eyes. “I-I don’t know! I just...I just got really mad and-and I wanted to...I don’t even know what I wanted and I just was going to push you like you’d been doing but-but...I threw you and you weren’t waking up!” Wild explained in a shaky voice that you could barely understand, chest heaving with barely restrained distress. 
Thinking quickly, you placed one hand on his shoulder and the other went to cup the side of his face. “Hey, look at me.” You commanded in a very soft voice and an imperceptible tug to focus your son on you. “I’m alright. I’m not hurt.” You continued slowly, trying to convey that you weren’t angry or even injured. Sure, your back stung from the impact and it appeared as though it had triggered an unwanted trip back to an unpleasant memory but you knew it wasn’t Wild’s fault. “You did not hurt me, Wild.” You reassured once more whilst maintaining eye contact with the young boy. He sniffled and blinked and the gathered tears finally fell. “It wasn’t your fault, sweetpea.” You continued, now carefully wiping the tears away. Wild now refused to meet your eye but you pressed on. “And I don’t blame you. Accidents happen-I can’t tell you how many times I accidentally shoved your father when we’d spar.” He looked up at that and you sent him a smile, happy to see the curious glint replacing his previous sadness. 
“Really?” He questioned in a tiny voice. You smiled a little wider-you knew you were somewhat playing into his original trap but this felt like a tidbit you could spare to tell. 
“Yeah, he was always trying to teach me how to be more aggressive-in regards to dueling, mind you-and...I may or may not have gotten carried away a few times.” A wistful look darted across your face. “If he were here, he’d be embarrassed about how many trees I launched him into.” 
“Trees?” Wild was brightening up now. 
“Oh yes, we had a special planet we’d meet on-one far out of the Jedi’s range where we could just...be us. For a little while anyways.” You sighed. Us. “It was a beautiful planet, Wild, with lush forests and countless caves filled with glittering jewels. And the most gorgeous waterfalls I’d ever seen.” You could see it now, the planet you hadn’t dared to return to. You’d gone everywhere else alone and with Wild but that damned planet. “We met in the same spot every time-in the clearing where we’d met and we’d go running off to explore...we’d find a lake to spar next to and…” a giggle escaped you at a vague memory of Maul’s first reaction to swimming, “and I’d teach him to swim sometimes too.” 
Wild laughed with you, more so out of shock that reminiscence. “He didn’t know how to swim?” 
You shook your head. “He was from here, Wild. Dathomir’s not known for its swimming holes.” You explained with a comical lift of your eyebrows at the boy. “Anyways, in exchange I guess he’d teach me how to fight like him. And that meant I had to learn how to channel my anger. That meant I accidentally threw him a couple of times. It’s something you’ll learn too and if I must, I will gladly be your test dummy.” Wild huffed a laugh through his nose and you patted his face, pleased to see him calming down. You fell quiet for a moment as you observed the little lift of Wild’s smile and the scrunch of his nose that always followed a laugh. It was your smile on Maul’s face. Wild had Maul’s eye color but your eye shape. Your nose but the slight scrunch Maul would do when he spoke or smiled. He really was the perfect combination of you both even if your attributes were subtler. Wild was determined, intelligent, and protective. He was thoughtful but action-oriented as well. Calculated but not heartless. “Force, you’re so much like him.” You finally broke, not even aware that the thought had escaped you. 
“Like who?” Wild asked with a slight tilt of his head-an action no doubt learned from you. Curiosity seemed to radiate from him but also an underlying keenness that told you he knew exactly who you were referring too. Clever-another one to add to the growing list. 
“Your father, Wild...I...I wish he’d gotten to know you.” 
“Y/n…” Maul seethed, his voice ringing in your ears though it was barely above a whisper as he stalked closer to you. His lightsaber...or rather half of his lightsaber still grasped in his hand. 
You were running towards him despite the short gap between you and crashing into his chest before you knew it. “I know, Maul, I know.” Your voice was choppy, form shaky, as you wrapped your trembling arms around his torso. His hand fell on your shoulder-not quite returning the sudden embrace but gripping hard enough to make it clear he had you. “I know I shouldn’t have come-I should’ve run away as soon as that damn door opened. I’m sorry.” The zabrak was silent as his lightsaber hummed close to your ear. You continued to press your face into his robes, not acknowledging the heat close to your head. Eventually, Maul took a deep breath and released it in a sigh as he sheathed his weapon. His arms wrapped around you-one on your waist while his other brought his hand to the back of your head. 
Maul pressed his face to your hair and you could feel his lips move as he spoke. “It’s alright, my light. I know.” The sound of him so gentle and understanding nearly brought you to your knees. This was your Maul-not whoever he was mere minutes ago as he battled your fellow padawan...Obi Wan...you didn’t dare let your mind dwell on the fate of him. 
You held each other for a moment more, the world around you slipping away, until you became overtly aware of how your stomach brushed against his. Your baby...you had to tell him now. You pulled back till you could look him in the eyes, saffron surrounded by a ring of vermillion meeting with your e/c. “Maul, I have to tell you something.” 
“He...he would’ve loved you.” You were ashamed of the way your voice broke at the admission. He would have loved Wild-that much you were certain of-if he he had gotten the chance to know him. But would either have that opportunity now? If Mother Talzin was successful in restoring Maul, would he be the same? You knew that you’d changed over the years-you’d had to for both your son’s and your own survival-but what would Maul be like? Your husband or the Sith Lord?...You supposed your distinguishing between the two the last time you’d described his father had not been unprecedented. With a deep breath in to steady yourself, you returned your attention to your son. “He would have taught you so much more. I wish you could meet him, Wild.” But...I don’t know if the Maul you meet will be the one I fell in love with. 
“Mom, you...you don’t have to talk about Dad if it’s too painful.” Wild’s barely audible voice brought your attention back to the present. 
“No....” Your voice was firmer than you’d expected it to be which took both you and your son aback. “No,” you tried again in a softer tone, “you...you deserve to know everything.” With a nervous swallow you continued. “Whatever you want to ask...I will answer.” There was no going back now. If the Maul that returned wasn’t the Maul you had known then maybe you could give Wild a chance to know his father through you. 
Wild gaped at you for a few seconds, your offer not quite computing. “...Are...you’re serious?” He asked skeptically with wide eyes. “Actually serious?” Your only reply was a nod as you let your hands fall to your sides and you shifted to sit on your knees. He was quiet for a moment longer as the gears turned in his head-most likely searching for the right first question. “Where did Dad die?” 
You swallowed again to stifle the panic. “...he...he didn’t.” Wild’s eyes widened a little further as shock overtook his face. “I...lost him on Naboo.” You scrambled to elaborate as your son fell completely silent. You weren’t even sure if he was breathing. “I thought he died but...when Savage found us...he told me that he had been sent to find him. He wanted me to help locate your father. I told him that I watched him die on Naboo.” 
“What was he doing on Naboo?” Wild finally spoke after another beat had passed. 
“He was...helping enforce the blockade.” You knew you were being vague but Wild was going to draw his own conclusions soon. 
“The blockade?” He emphasised, referring to the blockade you’d told him Darth Maul had overseen. “What...why?” 
“His master had instructed him to.” 
“His master? So...Darth...did Dad work with the Sith?”
He was getting closer, that was for sure. “...Yes.” 
“Was...was Darth Maul his master?” 
“...No.” 
“Then...I don’t know what that means.” Wild admitted, retreating inwards to mull over the newly divulged information. 
With another sigh, you closed your eyes in an internal debate of whether or not you provided him with what could possibly be the key clue your son needed. It was a short lived debate though. “Peace is a lie, there is only passion.” You began to recall the mantra Maul had often recited to you when teaching you how to channel your own anger. “Through passion, I gain strength.” Your eyes began to sting behind your eyelids as tears of your own began to form. “Through strength, I gain power.” There was a shift-not only in the cargo hold or between you and your son but it felt like a great power was being awoken all over the red bathed planet. “Through power, I gain victory.” It shifted again, growing stronger, angrier, darker. “Through victory, my chains are broken.” The chains...the chains are the easy part...it’s what goes on in here that’s hard. Those words-some of the first coherent thoughts to spill from Maul upon you and Savage finding him suddenly rang throughout your head. What went on in Maul’s head would certainly prove the most difficult part to understand, that you were certain of. It had taken you months to even get a read on his personality when you were young. It had taken months for him to accept his feelings for you and even longer for him to accept that you returned them. It had taken years for the two of you to decide that spending the rest of your lives together was the right course of action and months for the Force to grant you one physical piece of evidence to prove the validity of your relationship. The Force had given you Wild and the promise of a life with Maul...and almost all of it had been taken away in an instant. Your lives bound to the will of the Force by chains too thick to break. “The Force shall free me.” You opened your eyes and let your gaze fall on Wild. He was staring at you with a mixture of confusion and undeniable curiosity. 
“What...what was that?” He asked in a tiny voice. 
“The code of the Sith.” You answered immediately, the words falling freely from you now. 
“Why do you know that…?” 
“A Sith taught it to me.” 
“Who?” 
You blinked. He was so close to figuring it out. “I have only ever met one Sith, Wild.” 
“...” He said nothing, his gaze moving away from you to gaze out of the cargo hold at the red bathed planet. Wild’s jaw was tense, his hands anxiously clenching into fists only to unclench a moment later, and his eyes frantically darted from side to side as though watching a battle before him. “What…,” he turned to you, “was Dad’s name?” 
Finally. You closed your eyes once more to prepare yourself for whatever was about to come. You only spoke once you opened your eyes. “Mau-” A searing pain tore through your abdomen, cutting you off in an instant. Screams clawed from your throat at the sudden sensation that felt not unlike a heated knife being stuck into the flesh above your hips and around your torso. You fell to your side, hands snaking around your lower stomach. 
“What is it, Y/n?” Maul questioned, picking up on the urgent tone in your voice immediately. His hands retracted from around you to take a firm hold on your forearms. 
Unable to fight the smile that clawed itself over your face, you turned your hands over to also grasp his arms, anchoring both of you in that moment. “Maul, my love, I’m-” He stiffened, eyes locking on something above your head. With a harsh shove he sent you to the floor as his hand shot for his lightsaber. 
It happened in a blur-a flash of green, a choked breath, and the worst pain you’d ever felt tearing its way across your lower abdomen. It was the worst moment of your life-your love and your connection to him being severed in one fell swoop from Obi Wan Kenobi. You didn’t know if you screamed or cried. You didn’t know if you did anything else besides watch as Maul fell away, lost to some unimportant reactor shaft on Naboo. A death so unbefitting a man of such power it almost felt poetic. Unjustly poetic. Was this some form of punishment? You knew you grabbed his lightsaber, clinging to it as you prayed for death to take you as well. If the Force should decree for you to suffer a fate worse than death than it would lose you to it as well. 
But you were stopped. Two hands pulled you away, you were led back to the council to await a different fate unknown to you. The last touch of your love seared into your skin as was the pain of his fatal wound. 
You opened your eyes, vaguely aware of the mutterings falling from you and the cold press on your forehead. There was a firm grip on your hand and a warm weight pressed into your side. “Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me.” Your voice mixed with another’s graced your ears-the mantra of the Sith being repeated over and over as the pain in your abdomen began to fade till none remained. You sat up and immediately wrapped Wild in a hug. His muttering stopped to be replaced by yours. “Wild, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You kept repeating it as your son clung to you. 
“What happened?” He gasped out, grip like iron as he latched onto your arms. 
“Maul.” You brought him up to eye level. “Maul’s back.” You exclaimed, already able to feel the familiar turbulent presence of your husband. “He’s back.” You began to struggle to your feet, shaky and weak as they may be. 
“Mom, calm down-you’re injured.” Wild tried to drag you back down but you pulled your hand away from him. 
“No, I’m not. I’m fine. Wild, we need to go. Please. He’s back.” You tried, already doing your best to march out of the cargo hold.
“Mom, hold on. What are you talking about?” 
“Maul. I told you. Come on!” You were insistent, being pulled out of the ship by that commanding presence. 
“Not until you tell me what my dad’s name was!” You stopped short, realization dawning on you. 
Before anything could be said, a clinking sound echoed in from outside the ship causing you both to freeze. Wild immediately dropped into a defensive position, calling your blue lightsaber to him. You closed your eyes again, trying to sense what was going on. Maul’s presence was overwhelming-it crashed into you like a wall of water freshly freed from a dam. His signature was one so powerful and tumultuous that you had had little else to liken it to over the years. Where your connection with Wild was quieter and warm, the one to Maul was fiery and deceptively silent, threatening to burn you if you held onto it for too long. Force, you’d missed it. You stepped forward, eyes flying open as you did so and focused on your own presence-trying to amplify it for Maul. You had to know if he was the same man. The clinking stopped. His signature changed-a blinding glow forming to accompany the wrathful haze that always surrounded him. The clinking resumed, faster now as Maul grew closer to the ship. 
You broke out in a run, darting out of the ship before Wild’s startled cry could meet your ears and rounding around the wing of it. You stopped the same time the clinking did as before you stood a red zabrak, standing a little warily on his robotic legs, whose head was crowned with ivory horns and whose eyes burned with light brighter than any star. “Maul…” You breathed out. 
He straightened up, confused scowl falling away, as he spoke with a voice that rumbled like distant thunder. “My light…” 
…………………………………………………..
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astoldbycrimson · 5 years
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The Language of Love & Longing
Summary: Reader is a blind force sensitive Dathomirian (and kinda maybe a jedi). You don't know where you stand with Din Djarin, but another injury gives you the answer you need.
Just a heads up that I made up many parts of the reader's native language, Paecian, because we have only been given 2 words. So I took it upon myself to make stuff up as I go. And the reader is in place of my own character from this series I am writing. Feel free to ask questions if you want backstory. There is a lot of backstory missing from this.
Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x Reader
Warnings: Violence, injuries, near death experiences, angst, and some fluff
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 4.5
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Din was a man of action and little words. While his face was hidden beneath his helmet, his body language gave away his expressions. His tone, even with the modulator, conveyed his emotions. There was a way to read the mysterious Mandalorian and you felt you could decipher his code with ease now.
The hunter cared for you, that was obvious in the way he spoke a little softer and relaxed in your presence. In the way he always kept an eye on you while you were on solid ground, guiding you cautiously without giving your weakness away. How he worried about you during fights, sometimes a little more than necessary for what was once traveling companions.
You noticed how he'd tried to keep the ship tidy and in the way you had memorized it, to prevent you from stumbling or stubbing your foot. How there was a place for everything and everything was always in its place, so you could find exactly what you needed whenever you needed it. 
Many of his acquaintances didn't give him enough credit, condemning him to be just another arrogant, disinterested hunter. While he was that way towards most others, he was quite soft and lively with you.
You constantly wondered where you stood with the Mandalorian. Were you together? Just close friends? Your answer changed daily because you honestly didn't know. Without Din explicitly stating how he felt, you'd never know for sure.
However, you did know that you were head over heels and in over your head. Fallen hard from where you had started. He had grown attentive to your needs, both biological and emotional. Din always made sure you had enough food to prepare a meal or two a day. Always ensuring you had access to clean water and a shower when you needed it. And all this just made you love him more.
As confident as you were in your own feelings, you shied from confronting him about it. You didn't want to make the situation awkward or uncomfortable to point that he'd have to ditch you at the next stop to avoid it all.
It wasn't until this last bounty that you finally started to piece things together.
The gunman had an advantage and was ready to strike, but you jumped in the way, taking several shots to the back and shoulder as your body shielded him from the assault. Then, without collapsing, you had called upon your saber and swiftly relieved the gunman of his head. And, high on adrenaline, you managed to headshot each of the lackeys with your blaster.
Once all enemies were accounted for, you turned to face Din, who was back on his feet. You raised a shaky hand to touch the side of his helmet. "I'm glad you're okay… mulovda." Then your eyes closed as you fell forward, right into his arms.
You heard him frantically call your name as you drifted into unconscious. You slipped in and out for a while after that, hearing bits and pieces of what your Mandalorian was saying as he rushed you back to the ship. 
"Kriff, (Y/N). Stay with me—open your eyes. Kriff. (Y/N), hold on. Almost there. You—me now… You're all—left… Kriff. KRIFF. (Y/N), cyar'ika, please, I—you."
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It was a while before you finally regained consciousness. You laid still a moment as you felt the familiar rumble of the Razor Crest and the comforting presence of Din. You tried to sit up, eyes fluttering open, before you hissed in pain.
"Jyunta," you cursed, laying back down.
Din was by your side in an instant. "Careful, (Y/N). Just… stay there. Don't move just yet." There was obvious concern in his voice, as best as the modulator could manage, as his hand brushed your arm. "How're you feeling?" 
"Like a herd of mudhorn ran me over, but I'll manage," you tried to laugh, but it hurt too much.
"Stop doing that!" He said with a little more force than was needed, than he intended, moving to pace around you.
"What? I can't crack jokes?" 
Din took in a sharp breath before stopping to give you what you could only imagine was a glare. "Stop… making light of this."
"I'm wounded, not dead, Guns. It's not that big of a deal." You rolled your eyes at him.
You heard the hitch in his breath before a gloved hand collide with the wall beside you. "Haar'chak! Can you be serious about this for 5 seconds, (Y/N)? You could've died!"
You jumped at the sound. You hadn't seen Din like this... well, ever. Never heard him filled with so much anger. The sudden jolt of your body had elicited a groan of pain as your injuries made themselves known once more.
And with that he was back at your side, kneeling to check on you. "Kriff," he huffed, "I'm sorry, I…" He couldn't find the right words to say. 
After a moment of tense silence, you finally opened your mouth. "I'm very aware of what could've happened, but that will never change how I handle things. I'm not gonna let you die, Din." You closed your eyes and turned your head away from him. "I won't apologize for what I did either." 
Of course he didn't expect you to. You were as stubborn as you were strong. You had made a habit of protecting him. It was how you two came to be. But he didn't like you repeatedly putting yourself in danger either. Not for his sake. He didn't deserve that kindness. You didn't owe him your life…
But why was he so upset by all this? How could one woman boil his blood so much? And why did his heart stop every time you got hurt? Why did it beat so loudly when you smiled or laughed? Din couldn't comprehend how one person could have so much power over him. He had so many questions and so little answers.
"Moo...luvduh…?" He finally broke the silence. Din knew he was butchering the language of your people, but he needed to know. 
This made your head snap back in his direction, eyes wide with curiosity. "Are you trying to say 'mulovda'?"
"You said that before you blacked out. What does it mean?" 
You silenced immediately as your cheeks flushed. You didn't recall saying that at all. And knowing he remembered it made your heart pound. Your mind was racing, trying to decide if you should be honest with him or lie to hide it all. He'd have no way of knowing the real translation or if you were lying. You could easily make something up to cover your little slip up.
But, as much as you feared saying it aloud and knowing the implications, you didn't want to lie to him. Or rather, you couldn't. "It means… 'my love'…" you replied, voice barely a whisper as you looked away, cheeks flushing even redder than before.
Din remained quiet. He had thought it meant something like that, well, maybe he hoped it did. That maybe you cared for him that deeply. And as you had laid dying in his arms, he had voiced his own response. He couldn't deny his feelings any longer then, knowing that you may die on him… because you had protected him like his family had many many cycles ago.
You had always found the good in him. Despite all the bad he did as a bounty hunter, all the death and blood, you always saw him. The quiet, honest type. The armor clad hunter with a surprisingly soft heart. A man who'd been broken and was just trying to live despite it all. You saw all the parts of him that he had carefully hidden beneath the reflective metal of his armor. 
Part of him worried about your words and the weight behind them. You were practically saying you loved him. Love meant closeness. Attachment. Vulnerability. Weakness. Those who wanted his life would mercilessly use you as a means to get to him. You would become his biggest weakness. Your love for him could ultimately be the death of you. Could he handle the weight of that? And if he couldn't… would he really be able to let you go?
"What does 'cyar'ika' mean?" You whispered, slowly turning back towards him after having endured minutes of deafening silence.
Din's cheeks flushed and his breath caught in his throat upon hearing that word. His heart hammered against his ribs at your perfect pronunciation. Like you'd been speaking his language your whole life. And despite having been gravely wounded, practically dying in his arms, you had managed to hear that single word and remembered it. Kriff. Maybe it was a sign from the Maker... 
He opened and closed his mouth many times, eyes darting between you and his hands. "...Basically… it means...it's the Mando'a equivalent to… mulovda." 
Your blind eyes widened and your cheeks glowed brighter than a newborn star. You raised a hand to touch the cold steel of his helmet, smile tugging at the edges of your tired face. "I like it. The way you say it... Can you call me that again?"
He felt as though someone had shot him straight through the chest. Like he was suddenly exposed to the entire world, without his helmet or armor to hide behind. The thought was utterly terrifying, but Din couldn't stop his hand from moving to cup yours. "Cyar'ika."
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sithsdoinshit · 4 years
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how would the siths speak in their native tongues (like rhythm, tone, etc) vs in basic?
ohn god how do i describe languages
vader: huttese is vader’s go-to when swearing in basic just doesn’t cut it. it has this sort of soft “punch” to it, like you’re spitting out each word. vader holds no sentiment towards it, for obvious reasons, but it has its uses. and yes, he is very aware that most of the other sith can understand huttese profanities.
sidious: basic is the native language of naboo, assuming you’re not a gungan. if he’s feeling particularly spiteful, well...there is ur-kitttât, the sith language. with the way he speaks, it almost feels like it was made for him: hateful snarling and harsh vowels that are most certainly summoning some kind of dark force to end your miserable life.
maul: he picked up mando’a quite easily---it’s a powerful language, but has a certain grace to it. and it is indeed graceful in his voice, perhaps even abnormally so. maul picked up most of it from death watch, informal vocabulary and all, yet manages to speak it with the same poise of a coruscanti.
savage: “paecian” is the language spoken on dathomir, and it’s beautiful in its own right. paecian rolls off the tongue, punctuated by crisp consonants. savage still isn’t the most talkative person, even in his native language, but when he does speak there is a pleasant rhythm to his words. he has a greater vocabulary in paecian, too.
asajj: she does not speak as much paecian as she wishes she could. what little she knows is different than that of the nightbrothers, its sound more drawn out and nasally----the sound of the nightsisters. asajj can swear at you in paecian for sure, but most importantly she can put a curse on you.
dooku: basic is his native language, but he can speak many languages. all of them still have the classic dooku elegance beneath, the rich tone of his voice mixed with painstakingly chosen vocabulary. he does not speak much in languages he does not have a proficient grasp on.
kylo: besides basic, kylo learned a bit of shyriiwook. absolutely determined to destroy his vocal cords speaking it, which is already kind of a given. he sounds about as angry and fanatic as you’d imagine kylo ren imitating a woookie sounds like. it’s almost entirely profanities, too.
nihilus: the only other speaker of ur-kitttât. the same harshness is there, but when it comes from nihilus it feels as though he is gasping for air, each word thrust from him like a dark, desperate wind. it’s painful to speak and painful to listen to...a complete opposite from the sign language he’s learned, which is expressive and downright goofy in his hands.
grievous: at least in his dialect, kaleesh is almost songlike in its sound, with a certain hardness befitting the language of a warrior. grievous sounds like a poet in his natural language; he could be talking about graphically dismembering someone (which he most certainly is) and you wouldn’t be able to tell. 
inquisitor: utapese is like a long, undulating flow of low hissing, seething through pau’an fangs with graceful intent. you can hardly tell it is a language, if not for the movements of the lips and tongue. the inquisitor sounds like a serpent, more animal than sentient, but rest assured he is uttering the most eloquent utapese words possible.
lana: speaks mostly basic as well. she knows enough of other languages to hold conversation and go undercover, though there’s always a hint of empire accent present. extremely formal in her grammar and word choice, just as she is with basic.
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aurora-light-blog · 1 year
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Dathomiran Historical Timeline
*3995 bby*  Paecians are freed from Rakata enslaved by former Jedi Knight Allya
*around 3695 bby* A Paecian Dasan (leader) attempted to abuse his wife to maintain the patriarchal society, instead she killed him and took control of the clan. She declared herself Mother Nai thus began the reign of Mothers. They were no longer called Paecians but rather Dathomirans.
*around 3643 bby*  The mysterious village of Aurilia is founded as a safe haven for Force Sensitives and their neutral allies.
*around 3003 bby* Several clanswomen from various tribes band together to create the Nightsisters.
*around 2626 bby* Mandalorians make contact with Dathomir
*1995 bby* Darth Lanh, self-declared emperor, built a secret prison on Dathomir to house his prisoners for experiments. The combined forces of Nightsisters and Singing Mountain Clan destroyed the Darth and his Dark Knights. Nightsisters took possession of the prisoners and donned them Nightbrothers.
*1750 bby* The Sith again placed down a base on Dathomir for a biological experiment, which would later be called Blackwing.
*1749 bby* The clanswomen survivors of the Undead infection would later form Howling Crag Clan.
*995 bby to 662 bby* The Nightsisters wage war on all other clans for domination of Dathomir.
*around 595 bby* Nightsister Allya revises the Book of Laws. The Spiderclan is formed.
This was constructed to help me devise hopefully four Dathomiran fanfics. I've currently finished three of them.
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Just beyond the Yawning Gate lies this path to the Undercity, where most of the nightsisters live. Oriented ninety degrees to the right mind you. I took flat holos all down one side, to try and capture the colors.
Domir's light casts the front of the caverns in dusky pinks and oranges. As one goes further those fade, but the witchlights and the faint luminosity of the ichor bring up yellow and green hues that seem to brighten as the eyes adjust.
By the time one enters the Undercity itself, the bright light of the surface seems very far away indeed.
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