I’m emotionally devastated by that episode of the maul show so yall are suffering with me
@zeenmrala @fandom-sarlacc-pit suffer <3
will byers stan first human second
Sweet Seals For You, Always
🩵 avery cochrane 🩵

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The Bowery Presents

if i look back, i am lost
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Noah Kahan
sheepfilms
Monterey Bay Aquarium
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ojovivo
macklin celebrini has autism
wallacepolsom

#extradirty
One Nice Bug Per Day

tannertan36
Keni

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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@bnuuwitch
I’m emotionally devastated by that episode of the maul show so yall are suffering with me
@zeenmrala @fandom-sarlacc-pit suffer <3
"The art that becomes the artist" Artfight attack on @mewguca of Starlight Symphony!
Yo ts so fire
What if i just:
He’s literally my baby. I’d pick u up like a cat and give u soup. GUHHHH so cute
what do you think would happen if you put a cyborg torso on top of maul’s legs instead of the reverse
i mean like. if his torso got cut off it implies that his head is either gone, or separated from his neck which is. brother that man is dead lmfao
Imma just insert this here
Imma just insert this here (if anyone recognizes the original artist PLEASE tell me because I NEED to follow them lmao)
LMAOO
The Clone Wars has me in its clutches.
They’re literally family it hurts
So, I had a thought. How do you think the Nightbrothers would react if they accidentally seriously hurt their partner durning sex?
Either way I hope you're doing well and that you keep making peak 🫶
Thank you for the request and for the sweet words! I hope youre doing well too :3
The Nightbrothers - when they accidentally hurt you badly during sex
includes: Maul, Savage, Icarus, Scorn, Feral
warnings: nsfw 18+ blood, rough sex, inappropriate reaction to injury, if you ever get seriously injured during sex please seek professional help immediately !
Darth Maul
Maul knows things get a little painful for you sometimes. Little accidents happen, and he never loses his composure when they do.
You’re on all fours, tied down by your ankles and wrists, your nipples clamped, tears streaming down your face, and Maul is listening carefully. He knows your cries by heart. Knows exactly the way the pain he gives you melts into pleasure, knows the sound of your every breath, every moan, every yelp before you even open your mouth.
So when one of the clamps slips lower on its own, biting down harder at the edge of your nipple, the sharp sting making you cry out desperately around your gag, he knows immediately that something is wrong.
He stays calm, but moves fast, quickly walks over to you and crouches beside you.
“What is it, love?”
He asks more for the sake of letting his voice soothe you, he doesn’t actually need an answer. His hands are already fixing the problem, carefully adjusting the clamp back into place, securing it higher again. The movement stings, drawing out a long, pained moan from you.
“Aww… you’re alright, my dear. You’re alright.” His thumb gently strokes around the clamped nipple and he wipes away your tears.
Little things like this are impossible to prevent entirely. The two of you have talked about them before. He prepared you for the occasional mishap, made sure you understood the risks, the rules, the safe words.
But you getting seriously hurt… That is different.
Even after all the conversations, all the precautions, nothing could prepare him for seeing genuine pain caused by his own hands.
He recognizes the difference immediately, because he knows your voice too well. He knows what real fear and pain sound like. And the second he hears it, everything stops.
If you’re restrained, he’s already untying you as fast as his hands will allow, pulling you into his arms the moment you’re free. One hand cradles your face while the other steadies you against him.
“I’m sorry, love… I…” His voice catches for only a moment. “Are you alright? Talk to me.”
You’re crying against him, struggling to catch your breath, and he can see you’re overwhelmed. If there’s water nearby, he’ll grab it without ever letting go of you, gently splashing some against your face before pressing a soft kiss beneath your eye where your tears continue to fall.
“Why didn’t you say the safe word, hm?” he mutters as he strokes the back of your head. “I taught you better than this.” He wants to scold you, but there’s only worry in his voice.
If there’s significant bleeding, or the pain doesn’t subside, he insists on taking you to a hospital. It doesn’t matter if you protest or insist you’re fine, he isn’t listening. He blames himself far too much to risk making another mistake. Right now, the only thing that matters is making sure you’re safe and properly cared for.
After that… He becomes a little different, far more careful around you.
He may even refuse to touch you for a while, though he’ll never admit it’s because of what happened. Instead, he’ll suddenly find himself “busy.” Spending more time away on missions. Finding excuse after excuse to keep his distance, because the truth is, he’s afraid now.
When he does stay close, he handles you as though you’re made of glass. It’s simply his nature, he doesn’t know how to find a middle ground once something shakes him this deeply.
Only after countless conversations, reassurance from you, and time spent working through what happened together, he’ll slowly allow himself to be more relaxed around you again.
Savage Opress
Might have a bit of a delayed reaction. He loves making sure you’re loud during sex. It boosts his ego, only making him go even harder. So if you start crying from pain beneath him, it might take him a little longer to realize what’s actually happening.
He hears you getting louder, begging for him to slow down, but begging rarely gets you anywhere with him. Savage prefers when you’re bratty rather than pleading. Thats when it suddenly clicks to him.
“Fuck…”
You aren’t teasing him, you actually want him to stop.
He immediately slows inside you, carefully easing to a stop as he shifts some of his weight off your body so you can finally catch your breath.
“Baby… what’s wrong?”
When he sees you can’t even bring yourself to answer, panic hits him.
He pulls away immediately, reaching over to switch on the light before quickly checking you over, carefully looking for the source of your pain. It doesn’t take him long to find it, a massive bruise.
He’s already rushing off to grab an ice pack.
Returning just as quickly, he gently moves your thigh aside, spreading your legs just enough to press the towel wrapped ice pack against the swollen, darkening skin.
His touch is unbelievably gentle, but even so, you flinch, your eyes squeezing shut as another wave of pain forces a cry from your lips. Your hand bunches the sheets beneath your fingers while tears continue spilling down your cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, baby… I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot.”
He apologizes after every careful press of the towel, each one followed by a soft kiss against the bruised skin.
The guilt eats at him, part of him had genuinely loved finally being able to let go, to be rough with you without constantly holding himself back. Its one of the many things he loves about you, the fact that you like it rough.
But now he regrets it more than anything.
He wishes he’d been more careful. Wishes he paid closer attention. And the entire time he tends to you, he keeps quietly scolding himself, his words becoming a mix of endless apologies and bitter self blame for letting this happen in the first place.
Icarus
Tends to enjoy your injuries a little too much. He’s into knives, as we already know, and naturally, blood gets him going like nothing else.
He loses his self control easily the moment blood begins peeking from beneath the blade pressed against your skin. He can smell it without even leaning down, without ever removing his mask. His head tips back, eyes rolling shut as he struggles not to press the knife in any deeper, his fist tightening around the handle hard enough for the veins along his forearm to stand out.
Between your legs, his cock pulses impatiently in your hand, aching for friction. But your grip has faltered, you stopped stroking him the moment the sting startled you.
His eyes snap back to you, narrowing. “Don’t you dare stop.”
His voice is low, almost threatening, as he continues tracing the blade along your inner thigh, leaving a thin line of blood behind.
Your legs are trembling, more from shock and creeping fear than from pain. You can barely think straight, not when he doesn’t seem entirely present anymore, not when you’re bleeding, pinned beneath him, and completely at his mercy.
He knows it’s a lot for you, though. That’s why he makes sure you get breaks. Every so often he’ll give your cheek a light pat, accompanied by an amused little remark.
“You’re pretty tough, arent you.” And as soon as he gets a response from you, and sees that you’re okay, he’s back to toying with you.
Then, for just a moment… He loses himself.
He leans over you, backing you further into the mattress until he’s practically looming over your entire body. His weight shifts forward, pressing the blade down harder than he intended.
You scream, your head turns away instinctively, eyes squeezing shut as both hands shove against his chest, desperately trying to relieve some of the pressure. But it barely moves him.
“Please… stop. It hurts too much.” Your voice finally cuts through the haze.
He stops at that immediately, easing back slowly, he tosses the blade aside.
A thick drop of blood slowly slips from the wound, curling down the inside of your thigh before disappearing between your legs. He watches it for a moment, and then swipes a fingertip through it, absentmindedly tasting it before leaning over you again.
“How does this feel?” he whispers against your cheek, brushing that same finger lightly over the cut.
You squirm beneath him. “It hurts…” you whine.
His fingers linger there, slowly applying a little more pressure.
“That’s kind of the point… isn’t it?” He kisses away one of your tears before murmuring,
“Come on, baby… trust me.”
You slowly turn back toward him, sniffling quietly as he captures your lips in a kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth, giving you something else to focus on, distracting you, while his hand remains against your thigh, fingers rubbing into your wound now. It hurts so bad it burns, but somehow it makes you all the more horny.
Almost without thinking, your hips begin rocking upward in search of more contact. He feels you moving, and his fingers press into your cut more firmly, drawing another strained moan from you, but you don’t back away, you keep rocking back and forth into him.
Icarus smiles against your lips, letting out a quiet, approving hum.
“Mm… that’s right, baby.”
Scorn
Stops immediately. He eases out of you and settles beside you, carefully pulling you into his arms.
“Please don’t cry, baby… talk to me.”
His thumb softly brushes your cheek, but you can’t pull yourself together. You just keep crying, burying your face against his chest. Somehow, through shaky breaths, you manage to whisper,
“I’m sorry…”
His arms tighten around you immediately. “Shh… you did nothing wrong.” He gently hushes you, holding you even closer. “I’m the one who should be sorry.”
He lets out a quiet sigh. “I shouldn’t have pushed you that far.”
After letting you cry for a little while, and after youve managed to calm down a bit, he finally murmurs,
“Show me where it hurts.”
You slowly lift your head, your eyes still wet with tears, you glance down and timidly point toward the bruising around your entrance. The gesture alone makes your face burn with embarrassment.
“Does it hurt inside too, my baby?” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of your head.
You give a small nod, more tears immediately follow.
Scorn’s expression hardens with concern, frustration directed entirely at himself settles across his face. He keeps you tucked securely against his chest, slowly stroking the back of your head, giving you all the time you need to calm down. The last thing he wants is to add even more panic to everything you’re already feeling.
After a few minutes, he gently helps you lie back against the pillows before lowering himself between your legs to see how bad it is.
“Don’t… Scorn…” Your hands instinctively grab his shoulders as shame washes over you, followed by a strange, overwhelming panic, as though you’re afraid of what he might find.
He doesn’t pull away. “Shh… I’ll just take a look.”
His hands cradle your thighs as he presses a few soft kisses against them. He never rushes you, waiting patiently until you’re the one who slowly lets your legs relax.
When you finally do… He sees the blood. His expression immediately changes. Leaning closer, he carefully licks away what he can before gently blowing cool air over the irritated skin, hoping to soothe some of the sting.
“I’m taking you to the hospital.” His voice is calm but firm.“You were bleeding.”
He knows he has to be the responsible one right now. Even though all you want is to stay wrapped in his arms and cry for the rest of the night, he refuses to take any chances.
He helps you get dressed before scooping you into his arms and carrying you to the car. At the hospital, he never lets go of your hand. And for the next month, he does everything he can to make up for the pain he caused you.
Feral
He genuinely gets scared. The second he realizes something is seriously wrong, he’s already apologizing before he even knows what happened.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
His eyes immediately fill with panic, frantically darting over your face and body as he desperately tries to figure out where the pain is coming from.
“What is it? What happened?” His voice shakes.
He grabs onto you like you’re about to disappear, one hand cupping your face while the other grabs your shoulder. He can’t even bring himself to give you a second to catch your breath.
“Tell me. Please, what’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”
The questions just keep coming. He doesn’t stop until you finally manage to show him. The moment he sees the bruise, his expression completely crumbles.
“Oh no…”
He’s already halfway off the bed, rushing around the room to grab ice, a wet towel, anything that might help soothe where he hurt you. He kneels beside you, carefully pressing the cool cloth against the bruise, checking your face after every tiny movement to make sure he isn’t making it worse.
And the whole time he’s crying with you.
“I… I really didn’t mean to hurt you…” he sniffles, barely able to get the words out. “I’m so sorry.”
Once he’s done tending to you, he immediately wraps both arms around you again, pulling you tightly against his chest. A little too tightly, not realizing he’s squeezing you.
But you can’t bring yourself to say anything. He’s already so devastated as it is. The two of you end up trying to comfort each other. Somehow he even seems more shaken than you are.
“Hey…” you murmur, giving him a small smile and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “It’s really not that bad.”
His brows knit together immediately, he doesn’t believe you for a second. Another tear slips down his cheek as he quietly mutters,
“Don’t lie to me.”
He nuzzles his damp cheek against your shoulder.
“I heard the way you yelped…” he whispers. “It was bad.”
The guilt follows him for days afterward. He becomes super careful around you, checking on the bruise every few hours, always asking if it still hurts, if it’s healing, if you need anything.
Whenever you try to pull him into a kiss that lingers a little too long, or tease him into anything more, he gently scolds you.
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re supposed to be recovering.”
Suddenly, Feral is the overprotective, responsible one.
The guilt hangs over him like a cloud, not lettimg him relax until every bruise has faded and your skin is back to normal.
Scorn and Feral >>>>
I’m super into gentleness so this is fire
POV: you are poor clanka 🥺
I’d die happy ngl
I wish they kept Maul out short king,
I love him being short, it’s funny (he’s like 5’9 not very short but still lmao)
He’s just a little black gnome with a tiny kissable red face poking thru lmao
jealousy
had to get this out before we collectively move on from coldplay ceo
Let everything burn
Also my links!
Bluesky
Wanted to give you this image. Me observign you
He’s so silly I love him
He has so much charm i love him
I believe in body positivity.....hate your enemies, not your hips
Imagine just growing some space potatoes instead of this shit.
3 beautiful divas 👑
Bonus!
Literally them
Maul - Vulnerability
“Maul can endure unimaginable pain but he can’t endure unimaginable pleasure. He cries.”
A/n Inspired by @limousinecatblog’s headcanon! Thank you so much for allowing me to write this! I hope you enjoy my little drabble <3
Word count: 273
Category: smut//fluff