#mace fanfiction

[onsunnyside]

ok sonnyshine,,,,,,,,,, stoner!nerd bf jake jensen and his plug co-nerd james mace,,,,, hanging out with them, watching space documentary while high and cuddling and kisses and more

it's insane how you took my dreams before i even dreamt them and put them in my inbox 😳 THIS COULD LITERALLY BE AN AU, I LOVE IT SO MUCH (which is why it’s so long shh) !!

here we go !! your stoner nerd!boyfriend!Jake Jensen invites his plug co-nerd!James Mace over for some weed and space documentries:

🌟 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

A quiet giggle flutters from beside Mace as you bat away your boyfriend's wandering hands, "you're so handsy, daddy, did you miss me that much?"

Mace clears his throat, counting down in his head before standing up and gathering his things. All except the weed on the table, Jake hadn't paid for it but he's willing to lose the cash if it meant getting out of this hot and smokey dorm room before he started jerking off right on the damn couch.

"Where are you going, Mace?" Jake asks, directing your head to his neck. One of his hands on your hip and the other on your ass in the tightest, tiniest shorts Mace has ever seen.

"I, uhm... I've got a test tomorrow." He lies, the faint sound of your wet lips kissing Jake's neck seem louder than the narrator's voice.

"I thought you said you were free until Friday?" The blond frowns, easily reading Mace’s face, “C'mon, don't go so soon. We haven't hung out in so—" He's cut off by a groan, and curses under his breath, "—fuck, baby, we've still got company."

You giggle again, you were always so giggly when you were high, giggly and horny. "I know." You arch your back, peering over your shoulder at the brunet. "Don't go, Macey, I love when it's just the three of us."

He doesn't know if it was your puppy dog eyes, or your pretty pout, or the little wiggle of your ass, but he settles down on the couch again. This time, busying himself with lighting a half-finished joint so he doesn't have to watch you and Jake dry hump a foot away.

"Look at that shit—" the television displays a zoomed-out view of the solar system, all of the planets orbiting the sun, "how the hell is there so much space for all of that?" Jake slumps back, running his hands all over your body absentmindedly.

"It's called space, dummy."

"Oh, shut up." He swats your behind. Mace has long gotten used to Jake's obsession with you and touching you, hell, if he was your boyfriend, he'd be the same. "Mace, you still waiting to hear back from NASA for the internship?"

The brunet averts his gaze, exhaling slowly and watching the smoke float to the ceiling. "Actually, I already did. I got the acceptance email last week."

"Ah! Congrats!" You shout, grinning madly. "I knew you could do it, you're the smartest person I know." Jake clears his throat and you roll your eyes, "You're one of the smartest people I know. Isn’t he super smart, Jake?"

"Yeah, he is. Why don't you give him that reward we talked about?" A light appears behind your eyes but dims when you hesitate. Jake is quick to calm you down and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, "It's okay. Go on, baby."

In a relaxed daze, Mace watches you scoot over, and swing your leg over his. You settle in his lap, steadying yourself on his broad shoulders and he stiffens, choking out your name.

You shush him, "Before you came over, Jake said we could kiss a little..." You trail off, "said you've been really sad since you were dumped."

Under you, he's rigid. His thighs tense when you brush his bulge, ugh but could you blame him when you were moaning and whimpering while making out with Jake, literally right next to him? "Y-Yeah but, Jake, this is your girl—"

"I'm fine with it if she's fine with it." He snatches the spliff from Mace and reclines, taking a pull, "you deserve it, man. Your ex screwed you over big time, and you're still hung up on her.”

Jake is right. She did screw him over, by stealing his (drug-but-still) hard earned money and fleeing to who knows where.

Mace stares up at you with red-rimmed blue eyes, a vibrant cherry blooming from under his short stubble on his cheeks.

"I've always wondered if your lips were as soft as they look." You whisper, brushing your nose on his, "are you gonna help me find out, Macey?"

With half a breath, he surges up, slamming his lips against yours. It's wet and messy, full of everything he's ever felt for you but kept under wraps (for obvious reasons because crushing on his most loyal customer and best friend's girlfriend was asking for trouble). Your teeth clash and he growls into the kiss, tilting your head and slipping his tongue into your willing mouth.

Jake groans lowly, rubbing over the tent in his jeans, his eyes locked on you both. The documentary is forgotten for the sake of this—something you've talked about dozens of times.

Luckily, you two had a very healthy relationship, and could talk about anything and be unafraid of what kind of response you’d receive.

You knew everything about each other, from deepest fears to darkest fantasies. Openness, honesty, and vulnerability were important, and it took a while to get here, but you’ve both never been more comfortable and confident in a relationship.

It also helped that Jake knew about Mace's feelings about you from mere observation. Those longing looks and how he always smiled the brightest and laughed the loudest when you were around. He didn't need a 4.0 GPA to notice that his best friend wanted you (but he had a 4.0 GPA anyway and he was very proud of it).

Jake was in love, so he knew the signs of someone else falling in love. And Mace wasn't the best at hiding his feelings and desires either.

Your outstretched hand catches his attention and he goes to you like a moth to a flame. After taking the last pull from the joint, he discards it in the ashtray on the table. He waits for you, grunting at the string of saliva connecting your mouth to his best friend's.

Your eyes are as sparkly as the stars in the sky—and Jake knows this was a good idea.

He cups your cheek and presses his lips to yours, slowly exhaling into your mouth. Under you, Mace pants heavily, his fingers digging into your hips as he watches you two. You and Jake fit together perfectly, always have, and always will.

You pull away with a hum and with another rock of your hips, you capture Mace's agape mouth in a kiss. The smoke flows from you into him, igniting a fire he's extinguished time and time again, but now it can burn brightly, blinding all its witnesses.

He’s so fucking whipped, it’s almost pitiful when he chases after you, the smoke puffing from his pink, swollen lips. Sighing happily, you lean back with a cheeky smile, so effortlessly beautiful, they could look at you all day.

You’re both of their dreams incarnated, manifested into a living breathing human—or the weed was making them all sappy.

"Awh shit, we missed my favourite part! I love when they talk about Jupiter's moons! Europa is my baby."

"We'll rewind it, baby." Jake chuckles and pats your ass, glancing at his friend. "Mace, you staying the night for a rewatch?"

As if history were repeating itself, your mouth trails from his jaw to his neck. And he wonders how Jake even managed to speak with your teasing kisses sprinkling along his skin.

Your lips ghost his ear, “please stay, I want you to stay."

His heart swells and he clutches you a little tighter. "I'll stay." He gives in without a beat, “I'll take the couch."

Jake scoffs, reaching for another spliff and the lighter. "Yeah right, we could all fit on the bed."

Before Mace could protest, his mind goes blank as your hands through his buzzed hair. "If you think we were just gonna kiss all night, you're in for a treat, Macey."

my thots are many… bc daddy!jake sharing you with his best friend Mace 😣 showing him how much of a slut you are, how much you love being told what to do, and how pretty you beg for a cock 😪 “you want us that bad, baby? You could do better than that. I wanna see you cry for it.”

This #underrated daddy party is opening my mind to so many tropes I love it

[lemoneste]

Now I would appreciate a fic where Anakin Skywalker just kills Palpatine on accident. I was watching revenge of the sith and through the whole sequence of Obi-wan and Anakin saving Palpatine from the ship I was thinking: “Anakin is waving his damn sabre EVERYWHERE it’s a miracle he hasn’t hit something on accident” and then bam: idea.

In Anakin’s defence there’s a LOT going on so like it’s not his FAULT that he wasn’t looking where he was slicing and the next thing he knows Palpatine’s head is no longer on his shoulders but rolling down some flight of stairs and Anakin just sort of,, pees himself a little.

“Oh. Shit.”

A whole mile away Mace Windu is sitting in his quarters and suddenly the migraine in the back of his head disappears and he’s like “whoa.” And then jokingly is like “who had to be sacrificed for that damn ache to finally go away.” Turns out!

Obi-wan, through a holo-call, (with Anakin skywalker furiously sobbing and heaving through snot and coughs in the background): hey so, we should look into getting Skywalker some ADHD medication.

The Jedi council: why? What has happened?

Obi-Wan: just a little loss of focus, it happens to the best of us.

[cerulianvermillion]

Jedi culture is so fascinating... I'd love a post-war everything is okay AU where we get a taste of Jedi culture. Not the clone wars-era jedi culture that we know of...but actual jedi culture. Like the one obi-wan grew up with, something ahsoka and even anakin never got to experience because of the war. Like the ones we see in the books about obi-wans padawan years, of course, combining canon and legends in a way that makes sense- maybe we can have the younger ones of the disaster lineage learn a bit about Tahl, more Tahl is always a good idea. Maybe we can delve into Mace and Qui-gon's years of padawanship and being initiates- or maybe even old jedi culture, the one Yoda is familiar with.

[strige-art]

I did it!!!

I started writing the Consular AU, thank to the help and encouragement of @iknowwhattosaynow and @spectre83 who helped me with the English.

[fanfic-obsessed]

What the Fuck

You know, I have a fair amount of fondness for what could be considered light Qui Gon bashing, specifically in regards to how he raised Obi Wan. I wonder if any of you could tell?

Along those lines I there is one thing I would love to see more of, the High Council finding out much later (like during the war) the fucked up parts of Obi Wan’s padawanship and just go ‘Fucking what????’

Walk with me for a minute while I explain.  Also this is an idea for an AU not a commentary on any version of cannon. 

There are 10,000 Jedi. There is no way the high council could be personally involved with all the Master Padawan pairs, not to mention not all the members during the war were members during Obi Wan’s padawan years. So let’s start from the premise that Qui Gon and Obi Wan had the normal amount of interaction with the High Council. This is, in part, because Qui Gonn lies like a rug for 90% of their reports to make them seem more normal than they actually are.  In this idea Qui Gon is also at the very least emotionally abusive and negligent, if not physically abusive as well. 

So Obi Wan grows up thinking things like being left in a Cantina for hours to days is normal Master behavior, or being lost in bet (both intentionally to track slave rings and just because Qui Gon did not have as good a hand as he thought), or being forced to meditate his needs away for days, or the crippling anxiety that Qui Gon seemed to be deliberately instilling. Obi Wan never does these things to Anakin (Obi Wan just cannot convince himself to treat Anakin like he was treated, but justifies it to himself that it was Anakin that had the strange padawanship because he came to the temple too late and too early. He does always feel like a failure of a master for the fact that he couldn’t do it). 

Obi Wan doesn’t talk about it to other Jedi, not out of shame but out of the sincerely held belief that every padawan faced the same, that it would be boring. He does not tell Anakin because he does not want to make his padawan feel bad for having a strange padawanship. 

He does give utterly horrifying answers to any member of his battalion that asks questions about his padawan years, which convinces the clones that the Jedi need to be protected from themselves. 

Now that we have set the stage, I think this should be a random time not tied to any specific set of events. Though It should be after Ahsoka is assigned to Anakin. I kind of want the Anakin, Ahsoka, Cody, and Rex present and the High council has just finished the “official” part of the meeting and have moved on to just chatting, or maybe it was before the meeting began, or perhaps it is semi official where they are talking about some Cantina in the mid rim that would be useful in an upcoming mission. 

No matter the situation, Obi Wan fondly reminisces about the proprietor and how they (the proprietor, Obi Wan, and some of the regulars) had worked out a routine where Obi Wan would lure in slavers that targeted children, the proprietor would drug them, and the regulars would steal their things and figure out where they were hiding their ‘product’.  

There is confused silence among the jedi present. At last Plo Koon goes ‘I know you looked young without your beard, but I didn’t think it was that young’ while thinking that he didn’t think he was that bad at judging near human ages. 

Obi Wan laughs and goes ‘oh no. This was when I was 14, though I was a bit stunted after Melida/Daan so I did look a few years younger. Master Jinn like to gamble around the corner whenever we had a mission that brought us to that sector, he got great tips about the slave trade. I was so scrawny that I didn’t make good collateral until I was 16. So he left me in the Cantina’. He then muses thoughtfully that the proprietor always seemed angry with Master Jinn when he came to collect Obi Wan. 

There is a dead silence, every member of the High Council turned silently to stare at Obi Wan.  Anakin, Ahsoka, and Rex looked shocked while Cody looked somewhere between tired and murderous as he stared into the middle distance. 

Mace Windu asks, in that careful voice people can get where they don’t want to let on that there is anything wrong, about being ‘collateral’.  Obi Wan answers with the air of someone who thinks their experience is much more universal than it was. Every answer he gives sparks more questions and more horror. 

Obi Wan is so used to thinking that his experiences were universal that it takes him several questions before he realizes that no one is reacting as if this is normal. He starts to try and explain, you know trying to make himself understood because he assumes that it is merely him explaining badly, which makes it worse and worse and worse. Anakin is near hyperventilating because that was decidedly not how his own padawan years went (and explained some of the strange questions that Cody has asked him over the years).

Cody is actually relieved that the Jedi appear to be just as horrified over all of this as the clones were.

Each and every other member of the High council is both internally and visibly going ‘Fucken what????!!!’ with every statement Obi Wan is making.  Just a straight up hour of being horrified, not evening being able to move onto guilt that no one noticed because of the sheer volume of WTF.  Interspersed with various Jedi thinking about how they are going to need to get a therapist that is dedicated specifically to Obi Wan, and probably a therapist for the therapist to avoid burnout.

[yourneighborhoodporg]

The Guardian

Chapter 1: The Accident

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Warnings: trials of war (general suffering), sleep deprivation, crash landing, light injury, abandonment (if you squint), angst, fluff, humor, trio banter

Summary: As the Clone Wars officially commence, General Kenobi begins to suffer the consequences of burning the candle at both ends with back-to-back responsibilities constantly at his heels. When the council makes a concerning announcement in the middle of a mission, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ashoka are forced to drop everything and travel to Coruscant. Fate, however, has other plans— you.

Song Inspo: Sign of the Times — Harry Styles

Words: 5.7k

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Only the dead have seen the end of war — Plato

Obi-Wan Kenobi was…displeased.

The General’s arms remained loosely folded across his chest as he leaned back into the passenger’s seat. The robes being used as makeshift blankets shifted in response. He tried to calm himself with a deep breath as the next round of turbulence threatened to rip the shuttle apart, but Obi-Wan couldn’t ignore the slight prickle of his auburn beard when the skin underneath grew more sensitive from anxiety. A sigh escaped his lips. He rested his eyelids, head falling back. The aching Jedi thought back to only a few days before. Obi-Wan and Master Yoda finally recovered Anakin and the new Togruta Padawan on Tatooine after the two successfully returned Jabba’s son Rotta. The Separatist kidnapping plot was a failure.

He remembers finding it odd back on Tatooine, as he waited on the transport for Yoda’s arrival, that the Grand Master found it necessary to personally accompany him and a number of clones on the assault transport tasked with retrieving the duo. His head heavy with sleep was easily distracted by the implications of Yoda’s presence. So much so, that the native Coruscanti failed to notice a certain, nearly 900-year-old Jedi’s arrival. As a wise Master Jedi often does, Yoda sensed Kenobi’s confusion the moment his feet met with the transport floor. He eyed the younger Jedi for a moment until their gazes suddenly met. Kenobi respectfully clasped his hands behind him, nodding at his arrival.

"A new mission, you and Anakin have.” Master Yoda signaled the transport pilot to take off with the motion of a hand as he turned to scan the hilly sand dunes. Obi-Wan matched his stare, wondering if there was something out there; some wisdom the older Jedi gleaned from the three moons in the distance.

Kenobi raised each eyebrow in intrigue as he glanced down at the shorter man, ignoring how the sand around the transport billowed from its ascent. “Oh? What does this mission entail?”

Yoda’s eyes remained locked on the landscape, back facing him. “Explain, I will. Collect Anakin and his young padawan first, we must”

The trip from The Negotiator to Jabba’s palace was quiet, but short. Kenobi was interested in seeing if Anakin and his new Padawan resolved differences so clearly displayed on Christophsis. Despite Anakin’s well-known stubbornness, he had hope. From what little he saw, Ahsoka seemed to have that bright, fiery personality needed to challenge Anakin’s own. His musings were soon answered as the transport neared the palace. Even from hundreds of feet away, it was clear to Obi-Wan that Anakin and Ahsoka seemed to have reconciled, with bright smiles that stood in stark contrast against Tatooine’s muted, emotionless environment. He was pleasantly surprised to sense the first drops of respect between the two, like fresh rainwater after millennia of drought.

As the transport began its landing protocols, Obi-Wan closed his eyes to rest his mind. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. The bearded Jedi felt an air of… perception in the force. Likely Yoda’s wise prediction of this outcome from the start. Master Yoda always had a profound understanding of Jedi connections— which Master-Padawan assignments would work best, which younglins were friends and foes, and, most recently, which Jedis could collaborate in addressing the intricacies of politics, and the horrors of war.

The transport displaced the swirling sand below as they made their final descent. Obi-Wan glanced at Master Yoda when the transport touched down and settled. As if on cue, Master Yoda stepped onto the hot sand and moved toward the duo. While Obi-Wan followed and neared Anakin and Ahsoka, the strength of their connection became increasingly perceptible, challenging Kenobi’s composure to keep a neutral face. He was pleased.

Yoda glanced between Master and Padawan. “A new mission, you are needed on. Rejoin your battalions and travel to Naboo, you must”

As the four boarded the transport and headed back to Kenobi’s ship, Master Yoda informed the trio that the 212th and 501st had been called to Naboo to collect vital medical supplies for a planetoid in the Outer Rim, known as Polis Massa. Their main medical facility, aiding in the treatment and sanctuary of war victims, was experiencing a concerning depletion of medications, bacta patches, and other stock. The sudden arrival of a large planetary entourage of refugees has disrupted their timeline of available reserves from months to merely a week. After a general representative shared these concerns with the Senate days prior, Naboo Senator Padme Amidala graciously offered a large donation of medical supplies to keep the facility functional and the refugees safe. The Jedi were tasked with the transport, and due to the scale of the cargo, two warships were needed.

Obi-Wan’s mind jumped to his recent experience on the young senator’s vibrantly lush and florid planet. He remembers how The Negotiator and The Resolute’s arrival on Naboo was met with noticeable excitement. It began while discussing offloading logistics with the lead Commander.

“General,” Commander Cody glanced back down at the datapad in hand. “This manifest won’t make that timeline possible. Even if we assign every available trooper, it will take at least a week to fully load the cargo. Most of the crates with medication or medical devices are too delicate for the average loadlifter. And many of our troops aren’t trained in handling this type of equipment.”

General Kenobi sighed, gently stroking his chin in contemplation. At the time, the situation certainly posed an unfortunate fate for the refugees who were desperately waiting for these supplies. The issue was not new. The General, Commander, and other troop leaders had spent the entire journey from Tattoine to Naboo attempting to solve this very problem. Having had mere hours of sleep in the last few days, the General had difficulty allowing his mind to reach out to the force for any new ideas to aid in the formulation of a plan. The slight, sharp pounding in his right temple returned, an unfortunate, reoccurring experience that began when he boarded The Negotiator on Tatooine.

Suddenly, as if the Maker himself heard his doubts, Kenobi registered the click and persistent whirring of an opening cargo bay door. What piqued his interest and encouraged Kenobi to turn and assess the situation, however, was the sudden cacophony of loud commands, conversations, and footsteps behind him. Both General and Commander pivoted toward the scene, Cody lowering his datapad in distraction as Kenobi rested his hands on his hips in surprise. There were what looked like thousands of dockworkers as far as the eye could see, all in various states of loading The Negotiator with the medical supply crates. It was not a far-reach to assume that Anakin’s warship was receiving similar assistance. Kenobi shook his head, nearly kicking himself for ever doubting the efficiency of a mission involving Naboo.

“That’s some Senator, huh?” Commander Cody relayed as he gawked at the extra manpower, likely arranged by Padmé herself.

Kenobi smiled at the site. “Your eyes do not deceive you.” Cody called out to a few clones and motioned them to follow as he approached the crowd of dockworkers, orders at the ready.

With the generous assistance of Naboo’s finest citizens, a lot of commands from the confident Commander, and a weary General helping where he could, the starships were fully loaded and cleared for departure in less than a day, much to the bewilderment of Commander Cody. He made sure to remind the General as they made the final cargo checks that even though the pickup on Naboo was exceedingly fast, the offloading process would certainly take a week with Polis Massa’s lack of cargo staff. This, Kenobi could accept. At least with all the cargo already on the planet, the facility could coordinate with the Commander so to prioritize which supplies were offloaded first. The most desperate patients would have what they need in time.

The journey from Naboo to Polis Massa allowed General Kenobi to carry out a new set of duties. These were the first moments in the last few weeks in which he was finally free to file his reports. That meant many meetings, many questions, and writing every small detail down.

War between the Republic and the Separatists rarely left time for moments of respite, and the General was beginning to feel the effects deep in his bones. Occasionally, the head pounding returned. But what truly concerned Kenobi was how the lack of sleep began to play tricks on his mind. Formulating complex thoughts almost felt like drowning, and his mind seemed more easily swayed to the past. Kenobi remembers how this experience pressured him to finally concede— this last report would need to be followed by rest.

As the warships approached the asteroid field and the General completed the finishing touches to his final report, Kenobi received an urgent meeting request from Master Windu with the notation ‘sensitive.’ He remembers entering the empty war room, taking a deep breath from the exhaustion slowly creeping across his shoulders, and accepting the call on his Holopad. The blue, semi-transparent holograph of Mace Windu appeared before him. Only as his figure’s bright blue shine emanated a strong glow into the room did Kenobi realize he’d forgotten to turn on the lights.

“Master Kenobi, a pleasure, as always.”

“Master Windu.” Kenobi greeted.

He paused for a moment, just a moment, but it was long enough to indicate how long the last few days had truly been.

“I hope you’re getting some rest after the events of Christophsis and Tatooine.”

“As much as is possible, Master. The 212th and 501st have been called to deliver vital medical supplies from Naboo to Polis Massa.”

“I am aware. It may settle your mind to know that your time in the Outer Rim will be coming to a close shortly. All active-duty Jedi have been temporarily recalled to The Temple.”

Kenobi immediately grew concerned, especially when he noticed how the elder Master’s eyebrows creased ever so slightly. He frowned. “Master, may I ask what influenced this decision?”

“We will discuss it once you and Anakin arrive in the next few days. Please continue your mission to Polis Massa. The Council requests that once you arrive, you and Anakin arrange for transport back to Coruscant. Your battalions can unload the cargo themselves.”

Kenobi nodded. “Understood.” Once more, he paused. This time unsure if it was fatigue or apprehension. “Should I be concerned?”

This time, Windu embraced the silence, only offering the General a challenging stare.

“Please inform Anakin of this development. We will see you soon, Master.”

With that, Master Windu ended the communication, plunging Obi-Wan back into the darkness. As he remained in that dim, quiet war room, the General was left with a new, deep weight on his chest.

The General rubbed his face with a hand. Rest. He needed rest. Obi-Wan allowed his mind to briefly concentrate on his commitment— he would sleep as soon as the report was finished. It would only take a few more moments, he reassured himself. Then, the General would finally get some much-needed shuteye.

Kenobi relaxed. He was moments away from returning to the datapad when his mind wandered once more. He thought back to his conversation with Master Windu. This type of request from The Council and its level of urgency was unprecedented since the Separatist conflict began. It was difficult not to theorize about the severity of any event that would require the recall of thousands of Jedi. And it was moments like these where he would ask himself what Master Qui-Gon would do.

Obi-Wan tossed those thoughts to the back of his mind, shaking himself out of his stupor. These mild anxieties would disappear as soon as he rested his body, he knew that. And he was certainly looking forward to it. But first, Anakin.

He remembers how Anakin answered his Holopad request faster than expected. It wasn’t that Anakin was ever derelict in his duties, but he sometimes struggled with communication. Admittedly, it was usually because the man was too busy engaging in another risky, dangerous, or outright insane course of action.

However, this time, he answered. And no number of streaky lines in the holograph could hide the smirk spread across his face when his eyes met Obi-Wan’s.

“Miss me already, Master?” He crossed his arms while addressing his former Master. His longer hair shifted and head tilted slightly to the side.

Kenobi shook his head. “Hardly, The Council has called for all Jedi to return to Coruscant, including you and I.”

Anakin scrunched his nose as if a rancid plume of spoiled Giji stew entered his nostrils. “What for?”

“Unknown, but we are to arrange for transport back to Coruscant once we arrive on Polis Massa.”

Anakin nodded. “Got it.” Once more, he grinned. “Don’t worry, Master, I’ll find us a shuttle that will get us back in no time.”

Anakin ended the transmission, once more freeing the darkness to engulf Obi-Wan. His eyelids drooped. It took every strength not to immediately collapse to the floor and sleep. Just as he began to weigh the pros and cons of such an action, there was a sudden knock at the door.

“Yes, come in.”

Commander Cody entered, seeming somewhat out of breath. “General.” He breathed in once more, slowly and deeply. “Apologies,” he exhaled. Kenobi sensed threads of guilt from his person. “I’ve come to tell you that we’ve arrived at Polis Massa.”

The General smiled. “Thank you. I will be there in a moment.” As the Commander exited, Kenobi turned away from the door and back toward the black depths of the room. He sighed.

Another violent shake of the ship’s hull yanked Obi-Wan out of the past. Eyes shooting open only to rest in crinkled annoyance as he side-eyed Anakin in the pilot’s seat.

“Anakin, if I had known that you’d choose a shuttle barely cleared for travel, I would have made my own arrangements.”

Anakin huffed as he negotiated with the Emissary-class shuttle’s controls. “This wasn’t my first choice either, Master.”

Another loud rumble reverberated throughout the cabin. “I thought you were one of the better pilots in the Jedi order?” Ahsoka’s irritation poured from the backseat and flowed around the senses of the two senior Jedi. Obi-Wan stifled a laugh as Anakin’s frown deepened. His grip tightened around the throttle.

“There was no way for me to know that the only available ship capable of galactic travel on that planet was decommissioned hundreds of years ago.” He groaned. “They don’t even make parts for this piece of junk anymore!”

“You call this capable?”

“Snips…”

Despite losing any hope of sleep with the stress of traveling in a rusted space bucket, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but playfully add to Ahsoka’s antagonizations.

“She has a point, Anakin.” He motioned at the hull. “For someone who boasts about their engineering talents, I would have thought that this trip would be smoother.”

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka were sure that if they’d looked over at the frustrated pilot, they’d have seen steam blasting out of each red-tinted ear framing Anakin’s flushed face. Without any retort, he let out a defeated huff and refocused on navigating the trio out of the Outer Rim.

Ahsoka snickered as Kenobi used this cue to once more lean back and close his eyes. But despite how much his body ached for rest, his mind wandered to The Council once more.

Then, there was an explosion.

Obi-Wan was shocked into consciousness. He sat up quickly, knocking off some of the robe blankets. Alarms blared and red lights flashed. “What happened?!”

“Something hit the ship. Sublight engines are damaged.” Anakin began to frantically negotiate with the shuttle’s controls, looking increasingly concerned as he continued. “Whatever it was, I have no control over them anymore.”

“Can you fix them?!” Ahsoka yelled out, trying to be heard over the commotion.

“Working… on… it,” Anakin gritted. But despite each new attempt, the shuttle continued to hurtle in a dangerous direction.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan warned. “You’re taking us directly toward the gravitational field of that planet.”

“I know!” Anakin yelled. He continued to fight with the controls. Eventually, he jumped up and stumbled over to a viewing window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the damage from the side.

He sighed, still examining the engines. “Well, whatever it was, it’s permanently changed the direction of the engines.” He glanced back at Obi-Wan and Ahsoka with a look of dismay. “I can’t fix them. We’re going to crash.”

“Do you always crash the ships you pilot?!” Ahsoka exclaimed as she began to brace herself for the planet’s gravitational pull.

Anakin ignored her. He returned to the controls in hopes of making their crash landing as soft as possible.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and sighed as he felt the new root of a gray hair form. “Always a joy flying with you, Anakin.”

The deafening noise of the croaking hull reached an all-time high as they entered the atmosphere. The three passengers began to sweat, the heat of their reentry taking its toll. As they passed the planet’s cloud layer, the craft’s violent shaking achieved its peak.

If Anakin gripped the clutch with any more strength, it would’ve surely splintered. His teeth clenched and eyes remained alert as he mumbled his internal calculations out loud, a slight pause in between each one.

“700 meters, 600 meters, 500 meters…”

As they rapidly neared the planet’s icy surface, Anakin yanked the controls toward himself and down. What remained of the engines wined out a high-pitched drone as the shuttle struggled to level out with the planet’s surface.

“400 meters, 300 meters, 200 meters…”

Ashoka looked away, nails digging into her seat as Kenobi tried to blanket the three of them with a protective force barrier.

“100 meters… brace yourselves!”

The engines’ wine accelerated in intensity and volume as the craft’s belly made contact with a snowy bank.

The impact’s shock finally gave General Kenobi the longest rest he’s had in days.

—

The soft heat of the Tauntaun’s fur warmed your fingers with each stroke as you plunged your hands across her muscular chest. She huffed in contentment, hot steam shooting from her nostrils into the subfreezing air, and across your face. The sensation tickled your cheeks. A giggle bubbled up from your stomach as you rested a cheek against her warm frame. You briefly think back to when you were both young. You absolutely could not stand her smell when you first met her, but companionship has its way of encouraging two beings to attune to each other.

Moments like these in the desolate, icy graveyard of Hoth always helped you recharge after hours-long scavenging trips. You turned and took a few steps away from your steed to look out at the horizon, readjusting the sack of lichen that hung across your shoulder. You knew that you needed to start heading back to the shelter. The trip would take an hour, and night was beginning to creep across the horizon. What’s more, the edges of your boots were beginning to dampen from hours in the snow. At least you had your thick Wampa cape, which encased your body in warmth.

Another huff, this time disgruntled, sounded behind you.

You turned to the beast with a smile. “Oh Meetra,” you sighed. “I’m tired too. We’ll head back soon.” You reached up and scratched behind her ears. The Tauntaun relaxed as the tension in her muscles began to release.

Suddenly, a deafening boom sounded from above and behind you. You flinched, your body shocked out of Hoth’s calm surroundings. Meetra, equally startled, tried to pull and sprint away, but you grabbed the reigns tightly, keeping her calm. You spun around, eyes glued to the sky as a mechanical moan emanated from the atmosphere, its source still invisible in the blue sky. But in an instant, a gray, round shape with smoke trailing behind shot through a cloud and barreled toward the planet’s surface. You watched as what looked like a ship tried to level its descent miles away. In the back of your mind, you hoped that your dear friend, who you last saw years ago, was not inside. Within seconds of that thought, the ship made contact with the ground. A blast of sound and burst of snow left in its wake.

As you watched thin trails of smoke begin to billow in the distance, you felt a sudden pang in your heart, and pull to the wreckage. There could be survivors in desperate need of help, you thought. Maybe they needed medicine, or bacta patches. You contemplated the emotions of whoever may have lived through such a brutal incident. Scared, hopeless, confused— you could identify with those sentiments.

But it didn’t take long for the warnings you’ve heard all your life to creep into your mind. If you broke your agreement, you knew you might regret it. Not just for your own sake, but his too.

“Stay safe. No unnecessary risks. I’ll return soon.”

“I promise.”

A grumble escaped your lips. You agreed to stay out of trouble, to wait. But it’s been so long. Years. Nearly a decade, if you followed the stars correctly.

Then again, he knew your nature. He accepted long, long ago that you were too curious for your own good. He probably thought to himself, as he watched you grow, how your kindness, determination, and sympathetic soul were sure to get you into trouble.

You knew yourself, and you knew he was right. But you could not stand idly by and watch. He’d understand.

You turned back and took a few strides toward Meetra before slinging a leg over the Tauntaun’s body and mounting her bare back. You kept a tight hold of the reigns and angled her head toward the crash site.

“Let’s go girl.” You clicked your tongue twice, signaling her to move. “Let’s check it out.”

Meetra vocalized as she took her first stride forward. Her feet crunched the freshly dusted snow, stamping large tracks behind you.

—

Obi-Wan felt cold air blow across his face and ice dust his fingertips long before having the energy to open his eyes. Slowly, but surely, he tested the movement of his toes, knees, and elbows before checking his sight. Obi-Wan groaned, rubbing his face before assessing one eyelid at a time. Blinding sunrays poked through a small hole in the viewport, lightly burning his eyes. A groan escaped his throat.

Once his vision readjusted, Obi-Wan was able to glance around the cabin. The shuttle was delicately balanced on its right side, gravity attempting to pull them down to the shuttle’s edge. The hull creaked and moaned as snow continued to escape through the viewport hole, adding to the light blanket of ice around the trio. Obi-Wan turned to his left and saw that much like himself, Ahsoka and Anakin were thankfully not thrown from their seats, likely due to the elder Jedi’s last-minute force shield around them. Their arms and legs hung toward him, following gravity’s pull. As he examined the two more closely, Obi-Wan could tell that Ahsoka had regained consciousness only moments ago. Anakin seemed to be in the throes of coming around, his head bobbing side-to-side in discomfort.

“Is everyone alright?” Obi-Wan cleared his throat after his voice cracked.

“I think so,” Ahsoka responded. She began to rub her montrals as if responding to a migraine.

“Here.” Obi-Wan tossed her one of the robes that had fallen to the ground. “It will be colder once we exit.” Ashoka silently thanked him as she slipped it on.

“That wasn’t too bad.” Anakin was suddenly wide awake, an air of contentment emanating from his force signature. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes as he tossed him another robe, this time without warning. Anakin caught it easily despite the distraction from patting himself on the back for his personal definition of an easy landing.

Ahsoka’s eyes narrowed. “What would have been good was not crashing in the first place.”

Clearly, the young Padawan was equally in deep need of real respite like the rest of them, Obi-Wan thought. As their conversation continued, he finally found the energy to stand, taking this moment to observe the hull.

“Well too bad, Snips.” Anakin retorted as he shrugged on the thick cloak. “We’re already here.”

Obi-Wan sighed as he assessed the damage. “Is it repairable?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure.” Anakin stood and hiked up to the shuttle’s exit, using the force as support against the gravity actively pulling him down. The mechanical creaks and cracks heightened with new movement. Ahsoka grabbed her armrest and jumped over it toward the door. Obi-Wan took a few wide strides to follow. Once the three reached the wall that was now the ceiling, Anakin opened the door with a click and whoosh.

The cold bite of an air blast attacked their faces and pockets of exposed skin. Anakin shielded his eyes from sudden bright light and surveyed his surroundings. His former Master and Padawan peered out from either side of him. The trio stood there for only a moment, staring out at miles upon miles of empty terrain, ice, and snow banks.

Anakin jumped out, gently landing on the surface ten free below. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka swiftly followed with equal elegance. As Anakin made his way toward the engines to assess the damage, Obi-Wan used the moment to scan their surroundings further. The sound of Anakin ripping off panels and testing the shuttle’s internal mechanisms echoed off the naked ice patches dotted around them.

He closed his eyes, reaching out cautiously with his mind to feel the area’s energy. There were clusters of forces, small and animal-like, scattered miles away, with one group especially concentrated in a cave, the entrance of which Obi-Wan spotted a few miles West. He relaxed, feeling comfortable enough to deepen his connection with his surroundings.

Obi-Wan’s head tilted and eyebrow raised when he felt particularly strange activity to the South. There was an extremely weak force signature, almost like a dying creature. But it didn’t feel like the sensation of a semi-sentient being. There was depth, conflict in the shaky signal.

He huffed, eyebrows creasing as he attempted to dig his heels deeper into the fleeting feeling. But just as he was getting a better grip, the life force disappeared. Maybe it truly was just a small animal, meeting their Maker.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes. The bright light reflected off the snow and into his retinas.

He knew which planet they had crash-landed on. It shared its name with this system. Nevertheless, he enjoyed using these unexpected moments as a learning opportunity.

“Do you know what planet we’re on?” He said as he turned to look at the young Togruta.

Ahsoka pondered his inquiry. She observed the region, surveying the planet before looking down at the sleet encapsulating her feet. She lightly kicked some snow as she formulated her thoughts.

“Hoth, right?” She questioned.

Obi-Wan smiled. “Very good.” He turned back to the distant ice cave, hoping to get a better sense of the creatures within. It was possible that they might emerge to investigate the excitement of their crash landing. The boom was likely heard from miles away.

“I remember reading about the Skell beings on this planet.” Ahsoka mused. “They refused to choose a side during the old civil war. Instead, they attacked everyone within moments of seeing them.” Her voice stuttered as she finished. The cold was beginning to affect her.

Obi-Wan was pleasantly surprised. “I’m impressed by your knowledge, Ahsoka.” He made sure to raise his voice a little. “Clearly, you took your studies more seriously than Anakin.”

“I can still hear you!” Anakin yelled from behind the engines and he stood up, followed by a sharp clang. “Ow!”

“It looks like you could use a hand.”

Obi-Wan whirled around at the sound of a new voice as Ahsoka followed suit. His eyes met a figure with y/h/c hair and piercing silver eyes that glimmered in the sunlight. The figure sat atop a large, furry beast with two horns framing its round snout. A sizable white furred drape wrapped around their torso and hid their legs.

“Hello there.” Obi-Wan greeted.

Hearing all the commotion, Anakin peaked around the back of the shuttle, rubbing the back of his head in defeat. Curiosity paused his assessment, pushing him to join the others.

The beast huffed and lightly stomped its feet at the presence of strangers. The stranger hushed the animal, stroking its neck to calm it before throwing a leg across its back and demounting.

“I saw your ship crash a few miles back.” They explained as they took a few strides forward. “You should know that recreational hunting on this planet is illegal.”

“We’re not hunters...” Ahsoka clarified.

“Just travelers who lost their way.” Obi-Wan cut in. The young Padawan has yet to learn that these days, strangers fear the Jedi in the Outer Rim. Best to remain anonymous.

—

“Well, you better find shelter soon.” You advised. “The surface temperatures drop too low for non-indigenous beings to survive after sundown.” Everyone seemed alive and healthy when you arrived, you thought. You sensed that the trio before you was more than capable of handling their own affairs from this point forward, so you turned and walked back toward Meetra, satisfied with your investigation.

“Do you live nearby?” The older, bearded man quickly asked. You paused. You knew you shouldn’t indulge the questions of strangers, but curiosity got the best of you. You spun to face the man. He took a few steps toward you. “Is there a village somewhere? We have yet to find signs of civilization.”

Your friend’s voice echoed in the back of your mind.

“Stay safe. No unnecessary risks.”

You took a step back.

The older man paused mid-step as he analyzed your features. He silently apologized by gently lowering his foot back beside the other. The man smiled, likely hoping to make you more comfortable.

“No village.” You paused, internally sighing. You wondered whether you would regret this decision, despite knowing deep in your bones that it was the right thing to do. To help them. To guide them toward survival on this planetoid death trap.

But then your mind pulls you back to your promise. A promise you intended to keep. Still, you had thrown away any semblance of cautiousness hours ago when you first decided to explore the wreckage, you reasoned.

You eyed the hunk of metal once more. It certainly was beaten up. But despite the many dents, holes, and obviously mangled engines, the fact that it wasn’t a pile of parts was simply a miracle.

“I’m surprised your ship suffered such little damage.” You exclaimed, glancing back at the trio. “I wasn’t expecting to find a ship at all with your reentry.” As you finished, you noticed the younger man’s frown at that comment.

The bearded gentleman smiled. “We were very lucky.”

The whistling of chilly wind filled the brief silence. It whirled around the four of you, threatening to take all of your cloaks off your very back. They were sure to perish if they remained out here for any longer.

You internally groaned, knowing that you’ve already made your decision. No avoiding it now.

“There’s no village.” You took a deep breath, hardening your face in case this group was not who they said they were. Best to seem somewhat tough. “But you’re welcome to accompany me back to my shelter. There should be room for everyone.”

The bearded man’s eyes brightened at the gesture. “That is very kind of you.” He seemed sincere.

You could see that the young Togruta behind him also relaxed. She seemed to be especially affected by the cold as she lightly shook. The idea of a warm place to rest surely put her mind at ease. The younger man seemed somewhat surprised, but equally content.

You relaxed at their innocent features, and grinned. “It will take a few hours so we better leave now.” You turned again and walked to Meetra’s side before pausing once more. You faced the trio. “I only have one Tauntaun and she can only carry two people at a time. We’ll need to take turns.” You climbed onto your steed.

“Sounds good to me!” The younger man blurted out. He lightly jogged up to the Tauntaun with a relaxed countenance before jumping up and mounting the steed behind you. You could tell that their younger companion was annoyed with their compatriot’s blatant gall. The man glanced over your shoulder. “My name’s Anakin, by the way.” His toothy grin caught the light.

You chuckled, glancing over at the young man. “Nice to meet you.”

“This is Ahsoka.” The bearded man motioned to the young girl. “And I am Obi-Wan.” He placed a hand against his chest.

Their bright spirits lightened your soul. “It’s a pleasure.” You steered Meetra around toward the shelter far behind you. Clicking your tongue, you began the journey.

“So this shelter,” Anakin started. His head returned to hover over your left shoulder. “You don’t happen to have any century-old shuttle parts or schematics…”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan warned as his march met Meetra’s pace to your right, Ahsoka in tow.

Your bright laughter filled the air as you further relaxed. When you looked back at Anakin you noticed Obi-Wan’s comforting smile out of the corner of your eye. “You know…” you teased. “You may be in luck. Useless centuries-old knowledge is probably all I have.”

Anakin seemed satisfied with your witty retort as he leaned back with a pleased utterance. In your peripheral, you could see Obi-Wan’s interest was piqued by the lift of his eyebrows. He looked out West, into the distance, clearly contemplating your words.

After a moment, his gaze shifted back to the caravan, catching your eye. His features lightened. “I believe I missed your name.” Obi-Wan challenged.

You turned back toward the path ahead and smiled. “Y/n.”

“Hmm.” You glanced back at his vocalization. He stroked his beard while his gaze returned to the West.

“Y/n”

[ronearoundblindly]

Valentine's Ask Game: ...without a motive It's allowed to be abrupt, languid, bizarre, out of context, IN context but only you know what context it is-- it can too soon, start too late, anything!

I choose this work-weary space man from @larissa-ann's gif! Divider by @cafekitsune

James Mace x reader, one of my 2024 Valentine's Fics!

Warnings for not being a happy/roses-and-unicorns type of kiss fic, but I think it's still really cute and addresses that kind of numbness we can all feel from time to time. WC 418

Saying space is lonely is akin to calling water wet; it's accurate, sure, but it's also wildly understating the conditions as a whole.

There's fear and pressure, sleeplessness and fatigue, a never-ending schedule and infinite time to zone-out into the void.

You knew that going in. You've pulled your weight, stayed focused, remained practical, and been cordial.

No one on the crew hates you, but no one loves you either.

Space is truly lonely.

You've reached the point of acceptance. You can still bark orders during drills and smile over dinner. It's all...empty, though, meaning you never see it coming.

Mace just bumps right into you coming out of his quarters.

There are moves back and hands up, mumbled apologies, stated destinations, offered excuses. Then neither of you get out of the way because suddenly he is your way and you are his way.

Space doesn't contain slowed inertia. Space doesn't produce heat. No sound. No air. No gravity.

His head tilts and his lips meet yours, gentle but firm, the perfect middle ground, the most inoffensive action.

He exists with you. You exist with him. How can you mistake that for romance? How can you interpret that as passion?

If this were desperation, he'd grope and tug at clothing between you. If this were lust, he'd shove his tongue down your throat and moan. If this were love, he'd hold you in his arms.

There's no motive here. Space has nothing for either of you.

Soft and consistent, he doesn't break away. Your eyes never fully shut. Neither do his. It's a sort of experiment. You're evaluating reasons why you shouldn't, why you're wrong, why you can't, but he doesn't break away.

Like the ghost of a embrace, a whisper of a past life, James lowers his fingers to barely brush your arms. It's the first non-essential contact you've had in months, and a shiver races up your spine, pulling your neck taut.

The kiss is over, your head bowed and tucked to his rough chin, a rush of confusion and guilt lights through your nerves to make your breath catch.

His own breath shakes when it blows across your forehead and ear.

Mace takes a stable grip of your shoulders and shifts you to one side.

"See you later," he says as he walks by, turning to step into the mess compartment.

You finally close your eyes.

Space is lonely like water is wet, but even the depths of Earth's oceans hold other, unexpected discoveries.

➡️ Bucky Barnes and a kiss, casually

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby

[adragonsfriend]

Mace Windu: “only imposing if you see him that way”

Fuck it I’m bringing my Othello class into this again.

So we read American Moor by Keith Hamilton Cobb (review, full text is available as a free pdf if you look it up), which is a play that comments on the experience of black men who play the role of Othello as well as of course more generally on the experience of black men in the United States by showing the interior thoughts of an experienced black actor auditioning for the role of Othello in front of an inexperienced white director. There’s this line, it’s not even dialogue, it’s part of the description of what the actor is doing for the pre-show in the stage directions:

“He is a tall man, powerfully built and handsome, and only imposing if you see him that way.”

—American Moor, page 5

Sound like anyone we might know?

This caught my eye because I have noticed a bit of a pattern. Even very well meaning SW media—like Shatterpoint by Matthew Stover and fics that really love him—often goes out of its way to describe Mace Windu as intimidating and imposing.

And yeah on some level a tall man with muscles who knows how to fight might just be imposing, but to be honest I never remember Qui-gon Jinn being described that way, or Ki-Adi Mundi, or really any other tall, male Jedi. Dooku is sometimes described as intimidating, but it is usually framed in terms of either his Sith personality or his skill with a saber, not his physicality. Only some fics go out of their way to even describe Anakin as physically imposing.

And like I say, many of these works I’m noting are ones that have very good intentions and otherwise make mainly good, interesting moves with Mace’s character (works that take an explicitly negative view of Mace are a whole other can of worms I’m not addressing here). This is something that is being picked up from a deeply embedded culture of racism, not (in these cases at least) malicious. But that means writers, especially white writers—even if we have great intentions—we have to stay careful and aware of this. Readers aren’t off the hook either. It is through reading, and reading with a lot of love, that this pattern emerged to me.

Keep noticing these things, keep reading, keep writing, and maybe above all, keep revising.

Personally, I’m gonna be going back through my Mace Windu writing to check for this specifically.

[youngprofesser]

Another brief character study of Mace w/ Depa because truly do I ever write anything else?

(the answer is no. Unashamedly.)

Master Mace is not known to be tender. Depa muses to herself. And truly, I don't think it's in his character to be. He exalts sensibility far too much.

The thoughts are tinged with some half-delirious hilarity, partially because she has spent so long crying that she feels like a wrung cloth: twisted out of shape, simultaneously damp and dehydrated. And partially because the hand on her head is carefully tracing the pattern of her braids with a thumb, along the hairs so as to not mess them.

She turns her head into rough cloth, letting her temple fall from the tip of her master's shoulder to slot between his collarbone and pectoral. His hand shifts with her movements, relocating to her shoulder.

Depa knows tenderness, knows it's lingering caresses and sweet reassurances. Mace’s touch is feather-light, and he is silent.

Still, she presses herself closer into his side, and his hand brushes off of her shoulder, ghosting down and up her arm before settling again on her head.

So there is no tenderness to be found here, but there is practiced care. This is impossible gentleness, steadfastly crafted and exactingly careful to perfectly fit the criteria of both what she needs and what he can give. This, Depa thinks, is more within her master's character than anything else could be.

[fandom-friday]

Hello friend Karrde!

I hope that all here have been well and prosperous, or at least not buried in snow like me. I have more offerings again for the rec list! I apologize because this is gonna be a whopper of a list too, totally understand if it doesn't make it in this week.

On the Art side of things:

@pinkiemme has been rocking our world with both Commanders Wolffe and Mayday... such scrumptiousness. But then I saw this panel of Captain Rex and... (crying).

@rexxdjarin again with the thick and healthy series latest Echo and Gregor... the study of muscular anatomy is so on point!

@sunshinesdaydream has given us the adorable duo of Hardcase and Sparks

@spicyclones79s has gifted us Omega & Hunter, Commander Wolffe, and a very sweet Foxio

@ladykagewaki always has my heart with the Bebe batch snuggles But also Ms. Fangirl has shared how to summon Echo (May contain spoilers!)

@cloned-eyes made me smile with Wrecker and his little friends but then sob when I saw Jenot.

Comic Recs!:

@paperback-rascal is back with mercy and co with an interesting neurologic finding on Major 40

Fic Recs!:

@pickleprickle 's Newest fic features an injured Mace Windu in the wake of the Empire's rise in Shattered Sunrise. When I say I binged the first two chapters... go read!

if anyone is in need of a Howzer Fic after @the-rain-on-kamino has just reposted their Exigency series. I didn't get a chance to read it the first time and am making my way through it now and let me tell ya... the love, the longing, the CAPTAIN! oh and the build up to the SMUT!

Hopefully I'll have the other comic pieces gathered together for next week and a few more recs. Till then happy reading!

This is one HECK of a list that's got a little something for every TCW/TBB fan out there! I love all of the artwork, and the fics are phenomenal!!!

(Quick correction: the art of Hardcase and Sparks was a commission done by @cloned-eyes)

As always, THANK YOU for taking the time to pull all these together!!

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

[georgiapeach30513]

Victim of the Circumstance, Part 5

Summary:  what do you decide to do?

Pairings:  James Mace X Reader

Rating:  explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex (F & M receive), breast worship, boob job, cum play, thigh grinding, manhandling, switch vibes, slapping, degradation, creampie, bruises, hickies, Plan B, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  5K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“This,” you pant out, your chest heaving up and down as you gaze up at Mace.  Pupils blown wide with lust.  You wanted him.  You wanted him more than anything you could ever remember in recent history.  He was right there, inching closer to you.  “I don’t do this.”

“What are we doing?” He whispers out again.  James’ hand reaches towards your jaw, outlining it with his thumb, before it drifts lower.  And lower.  Carefully framing the low neckline of your dress, and it sinks lower on your chest.  Your nipple almost poking out of the top.  

“This,” one more shallow breath has one side of your top uncovering your nipple, and James gulps, staring hungrily at your body.  His eyes drift all around you.  Taking every bit of your curves in.  He wanted you just as much.

“Tell me what it is we’re doing?” 

You step back to lock the door, and get close enough for your hardened nipples to graze over his hard body, “This.”

“Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Mace doesn’t hesitate to close the gap to your bodies.  Crashing his lips into yours before he kisses down your neck.  Squeezing your tits together, and staring at them like a man starved before nibbling on the swell, walking the two of you towards the bedroom.  Pulling down your top to capture your nipple in his mouth.

You let out the loudest moan that you can remember.  It had been too long since you had someone’s needy hands and mouth on your skin.  Mace was partaking in every inch of you.  His mouth may be working your pebbled peaks, but his hands were moving all over, stripping you out of your dress, and pounding your back up against the wall.

“Oh god!” You screech as he sinks down to his knees.  His mouth nips your body, and then he gives your covered core a desperate lick up your slit.  Kissing and sucking over the lacy panties, and then it’s you that starts pulling them off.  Damn near falling over with how fast you are trying to strip down.

“My god,” he moans, as you sling your leg over him.  Resting it over his shoulder as he stares at your sex.  Those beautiful eyes drift up to your face as he slowly closes the gap.  Getting close enough that you feel his warm breath, and when his tongue barely kitten licks over your neglected clit, you whimper out his name.

James buries his face into your puffy folds, and you go blank.  Head tilting to the ceiling and whispering out a lew prayer as he feasts on you.  He is parched and the only form of relief he was getting was from your juices.  It has been so long that your body is so reactive to his ministrations.  The most vulgar slooshing and slurping sounds come from between your legs.  You were feeding him well.  

His moans are turning you on even more as your hips start to grind on his face.  James’ tongue slides down into your hole, and he stands still.  Waiting on your glance back down to him, “Uh huh,” you feel him smile on your weeping cunt, nodding his head.  He literally wanted you to fuck his tongue.

Placing a hand on his head, while the other stays on the wall, you roll your hips, letting his tongue slip in and out of your tight channel.  Just when you think you are in absolute heaven, his hands slap over your chest, and pinches your nipples.  “Oh god!  James!  Oh fuck!” 

Hips buck forward as his tongue stretches you out.  All these years of trying to find your own pleasure, this was similar, and oh so different.  He was a perfect little fuck toy, but there was something more you wanted.  His cock was straining through his pants.  Skin glistening from more than just the river swim.  He wanted you, too.  And you wanted him all night.  

Both your hands circle his head, and you use him.  Slowly building up speed, and when his teeth graze over your clit, your juices flood out onto his face, and your leg starts trembling, “C’mere.”

Dropping your leg onto the ground, you pull him up, yanking off that shirt before crashing your mouth into his.  He fights you for a minute to pull away as you undo his jeans, “You’re going to taste yourself,” sweet summer child.  No one was ever woman enough to taste themselves on his lips.

“I’m not a child,” you are already breathless, but the fact that he had been with women that didn’t want to share in each other’s arousal is so foreign, “I want to taste what you did to me.”

“Fuck yeah,” he gets out before your swallowing his moans.  His jeans fall far enough that his cock jumps up, and touches your skin.  The tip drenched in precum, and your bodies’ hit the door to open it up wider.

Both of you yelp when a dog jumps up from the floor barking, “Cannon!  Shit…go to Benning’s room, buddy.  Mommy is going to be fucked like an animal tonight.” 

“Yeah she is.  Where’s the microphone?” Mace smirks at you, and you wait for Sy’s dog to jump into Benning’s bed before you look at him.  Shaking your head.  You need to see exactly what Mace can do before you bring in toys.

“First time we fuck, there will be no toys.  When was the last time you were tested?  I don’t have condoms.”

“Uh, after the last girlfriend.  I always used a condom though.”

“Don’t cum in me.  Pull out.  And after the first time…we can use the microphone,” Mace starts stalking you like prey.  Walking you backwards towards the bed.  “And James?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I want you to fuck me all night.  I meant that.  Use me tonight.  My pussy is yours whenever you want it, get it wet, and oh!  Mmm,” you whimper when James pushes you onto the bed, and yanks your legs to where you’re at the bottom of the bed.  Spreading your legs wide, and he slaps his cock on your clit.  

“Got it.  Wet pussy, hard dick, I fuck.”

“I can do the same.  If I wake up, and you're hard…”

“Jump on and enjoy the ride.  Now,” sliding his tip down until he reaches your hole, he pushes through aggressively.  Barreling into your heat and already becoming breathless.  He felt good, but you couldn’t enjoy it.  He was speeding past the good parts.

“James!” He grunts as he pounds into you even harder, grabbing onto your bouncing tits, “James!”

“I know it feels good.”

“Yes, but,” he doesn’t stop, and you need this to last.  Fast at the end.  Slow build in the beginning.  “James!” 

“Yeah?  Yeah, right there?” 

“No.”

His thrusts stop all together, and his face falls, “You’re not enjoying yourself,” it isn’t a question, but a statement.

“I would enjoy it much better if you gave me time to.  Just…slow baby,” lifting yourself off the bed you let your hands slide down his chest.  Grabbing onto his hips, “This isn’t a race, or a quickie, okay, sweetheart,” his eyes flutter close as he loosens up, letting you guide his pace.  “Mmm, that’s better, isn’t it.  Oh fuck…yeah, yeah.  You get to really feel it.  Take your time.  Discovering what makes me wild.  Explore.  Change your angle.  Lean back a bit, and push your cock up.”

He listens to your words.  Smiling when you bite at your lip, “Yeah, oh you learn so quickly.  That right…right there.  Oh yeah!  Now, don’t jackhammer, but…ahh!” You scream, lifting off the bed when he drives into you at that angle.  “Right there, Jamesy.  Fuck yeah!  You found it.  Right…there…oh god!  Don’t stop.  Don’t change.  So good, baby.  You’re doing so good for me.”

He is receptive to praise.  And the perfect learner.  Smiling even when you start creating tight circles on your clit.  You finally get to feel him.  Revel in how wide he has you split open.  Sighing when he reaches depths that have never been discovered.  His cock was angled perfectly to hit you right where you wanted him.  

It was like he was made for you.  The perfect fit.  Giving it to you like you had wanted all these years.  You didn’t mind helping him out, because it is helping you out.  And it felt oh, so good.

“Oh shit!” He grunts, pulling himself out of you as your honey squirts out of you.  “Oh shit, I hit the jackpot.”

“Do it again,” stabbing into you a few hard times, your body reacts, gushing out of you.  Your eyes clench down close at all the pleasure that you are feeling, “Again!  Oh!  Oh, yeah!  Right there, just like that.  You’ve got it.  Fuck!  Fuuuck!” He keeps on until your whole body is quivering, making a mess of the floor.  Holding still as your walls constrict around him.  Petting over your face.

“You there?” 

“Yeah.  Oh god,” you let your head fall back on the bed.  “Oh,” you let out a breathless sigh.  “Oh, that was good.  Now, can I take care of you?”

“What?” You sit up, letting his stiff cock slide out of you, and you pull him onto the bed, “Okay.  Yeah.  I like this.  Usually girls just want me to hit it from the back or…”

“Shh, James, rule number one, don’t talk about other girls fucking you when I’m about to change your life,” his eyes go large as you grip his cock, kissing and licking up his vein.  “I told you, I like tasting what you do to me.  You had me all stretched out, and now I’m going to finish you.  You want me to face you, or away from you?” 

“What’s the difference?” He gulps when you spit on his length.  Letting the saliva ooze down before you fist him.  

“Facing you, you can play with my tits you so enjoy.  Away from you, you can finger my ass.”

“Holy shit!  I can’t think.”

“You think you can sit up, and suck on my titties while I ride you?” 

“Yep,” Mace sits up, and leans against the bed frame, when you sling a leg over him.  Holding firmly onto his cock, and you slowly sink over him.  Taking the time to feel every inch and vein of his pretty cock.  Sliding down until he reaches home, and is balls deep, and you have to adjust your position, he is long.  “I get the pace.”

“Oh god,” you pant.  “You feel so good.  Now, be a good boy, and play with my tits,” he termbles, but listens.  Circling his mouth around your engorged nipples as you start to grind over him.  “The build up is so much nicer when you take your time.  Let me come on your cock like this, and I’ll really ride you.  You just let me know when you're close.  Don’t cum in me.”

“No,” he pulls off you, staring at your nipple before moving to the other.

“Where do you want it?” Circling your hips over him, he whimpers the sweetest little sound.  You could mold him to be exactly what you needed.  “You want it in my mouth?  On my tits?  You want me to finish you by giving you a boob job?  Let my tits stroke your pretty cock?  Huh?  Jamesy, what is it that you want, baby?” 

“My god, please, just fuck me.  You’re amazing.  Whatever you want.  Whatever.  You.  Ooh!” His voice goes up an octave whining when you start bouncing on him.  Laying back he watches your tits bounce in front of him.  “Perfect.  You’re perfect.  My god, your a fucking goddess.  The best.  This is…oh!  Sunshine!  Sunshine, if you don’t want me to cum in you.”

“That was quick,” you smirk, climbing off him, “Do I feel that good, baby boy?” He nods his head like an excited child.  “I feel like you want to fuck my tits.  You wanna make a mess?  I can hang off the bed and let your balls slap over me at the same time.”

“My god,” his voice is weak as he stands up, “Where do I go?” 

“Right at the edge.  Over here,” you hang your head over the bed, and bring your tits together.  “Make sure to lube them up with some spit.  Why don’t you play with my pussy while you do this?” 

He lets a drip of saliva run to your tits, and you spread it around.  Waiting for him to place his cock in between your tits, and he literally whimpers, “Fuck me,” you grunt.  “Go as fast as you want, honey,” Mace does just that.  Desperately ready to see a mess on your tits.  You don’t even care that he’s not playing with your clit.  His desperate little moans are enough for you.  

Straddling your head, his balls slap against your chest, and you want to suck on them.  You want to suck on every part of him.  He is a fast learner.  “Uh!  Uh!  Fuck!” His pretty little balls tighten up as he spurts his load in between your tits.  Slowing down his motion, before he just stands there panting.

“Why don’t you let my mouth clean you up, and you can stare at what a mess you made?” Backing up, he sees that smiling face.  A woman that looks so innocent and well put together, but you are a freak.  “Oh, Jamesy, that cock looks so pretty covered in cum.  Let me taste it.”

“You are a little cumslut, you know that?” 

“Uh huh.  Give me some time to get on birth control, and I’ll show you what a cumslut I am,” you moan as you take his whole length in your mouth.  He tasted like you and him.  Musky with a tangy sweetness.  Mace’s hand rubs over the lump in your throat; the bulge of where he was.

Distracted only when you gather some of the mess on your tits, and start rubbing it on your clit, “So this is not a one time thing?” 

You suck on his cock like a straw as you pull him out of you, finally looking at the mess on your tits, “No.  I’d prefer it if it wasn’t.”

“We…are we…is this just sex or is this a thing?” 

“You only fuck me.”

“That…it didn’t really answer my question,” he is adorable trying to figure out what exactly was going on between the two of you.  Needing a word or confirmation as to what exactly was going on.

“Let’s keep fucking, and see where it takes us.  But you only fuck me.  That cock is mine, and this cunt is all yours, sweetheart.  Now, go get me a washcloth, and let's clean up a bit, and we can snuggle.  Remember, fuck me when you want.  I have no kids tonight.  As long as I’m wet, stick it in me, and wake me up to you pounding into me.”

“Yes, ma’am.  Whatever, you say.  My little sex doll?” He asks, walking into your bathroom to gather a washcloth while you gather his cum to lick off your fingers.  “My god, you’re something else,” you cock up an eyebrow, “And I like it a lot.”

“Good boy, Jamesy.”

One time.  That’s all it took was one time of James being inside of you, and he was addicted.  You took complete control, and both of you had a better time because of it.  You showed that you were a complete freak for her man, and he was excited about it.  You told him if he was hard, and you were wet to fuck you.  Free range on your body and pleasure.

Waking up with a hard on was easy, but leaning over to see your peaceful face, he doesn’t want to.  That innocent quality was back.  He is sure that you were just bluffing.  Alcohol hadn’t been involved, but women didn’t want that.  Didn’t want to wake up to being fucked, did they?

You stir a bit in your sleep, and that perfect breast pops out from under the blanket.  Your nipples look better when they’re hard though.  He moves a bit closer to you, barely licking on the nipple before blowing cold air on it.  You are already reacting to his motions, and your little bud starts getting harder.  

“You could just suck it,” you peep open your eyes, and Mace is nearly face to face with your tit.  “I meant what I said.  Tonight, use me.  Go on,” he surprises you by pulling your leg over his hip.  Sliding his thigh in between your legs, and when you place your bare cunt on him, he moans, “I’m already wet, but you want,” your words turn into squeaks when he sinks over your tit.

His tongue flicks over your bud, while he simultaneously sucks on you.  Pulling off to let you see the swollen peak, “You think I can make it bigger?”

“Uh huh.  You think I can come without you inside of me?” 

“I’m sure you can.  Why don’t you show me,” grabbing as much of your tit as he can, he squeezes on the swell while he starts sucking on you.  Letting you grind over his thigh while he partakes.  Suckling on you like a babe that was in need of feeding.  Giving you a little nip, before he lays you back a bit more to find the other tit.  

Paying attention to the neglected one, while you move over him.  Making the prettiest sounds.  He paid so much attention to your tits, and you weren’t aware of how good it felt.  Sure that you could get off from that alone. 

“Fuck me!” You demand.  You are getting close.  “Fuck me like your whore!” 

“Come first,” he is a tease.  He gives each nipple a hard squeeze, rolling them in between his thumb and finger.  “Go on, come, and I’ll fuck you like the little slut you are.  I’ll fuck you as hard and fast as I want this time.”

“Uh huh.  Please, just fuck me.  Make me watch myself come on your cock in that mirror.”

“Oh, I will.  I’ll have you coming so hard on my cock.  I’m going to pound into your pussy.  Make you feel me for the next week.  You’ll be leaking all over my cock,” you grind down harder on Mace.  moving over him like your life depended on it when a crazy idea strikes you.  It was insane, but there were ways.

“Cum in my pussy, James.”

“You said no.”

“It’s yours.  Cum in my cunt.  I’ll get Plan B.  Please.  Please!  Claim me!  It’s your pussy.  James!  James!” You scream out his name as your belly starts to heat up.  Ready to beg him for all he’s worth.  “James, I want to feel you in me!  There’s a drug store down the road.  Please.  Cum in my pussy, I want to see you leak out of me.”

He has never seen that.  Had never felt his seed plant deep into someone’s core.  The desire to see himself drip out of your pretty little pussy is too much to say no to.  Not to mention his aching cock at you begging for his cum.  “P-p-please!” Your cunt is so hot on his leg.  You couldn’t even think about anything else, but him.  You are on autopilot for cock and cum.  “Please!”

“Fine, you little slut,” my god.  Pleasure starts coursing through your veins at his aggression.  He flips you over to your belly, lifting you to your knees, “Show me that slut cunt,” you arch your back even more, reaching back to spread your lips apart.  “Yeah, that hole does need to be stretched and leaking, huh?  You want to be a little cumslut, I’ll let you be one.  But you’re just mine.  And I get to pump you full the rest of the night, okay?” 

“Yeah.  Yes!” One swift movement, and he had bottomed out.  Holding tightly to your hips, he starts rutting into you.  His fingers dig into your skin, and you want to remember every part of this moment.  This has always been your favorite position, and your body doesn’t take long to show him how much.  Your thick honey leaks onto your thighs, and you start going into a paradise.  Being used for pleasure, while you get your own euphoria.  

Hips slapping against your backside, and you turn into mush, body starting to drift down to the bed, “No, you don’t,” Mace grabs onto your chest, and lifts you up to his front, “You wanted to see what you looked like.  Look at my little filthy slut.  You know you’ve already covered my cock in your cream?  You are a dirty little cockslut that wants me to fuck my cum so deep inside of you, hmm?” 

Your eyes roll back into your head, but Mace gives you a bit of a slap to your cheek, “I want you to watch yourself.  Look at how you are letting me use you.  Look at how you're reacting.  How your body is recoiling with every fuck into you I make.  Those pretty tits are just bouncing.  Ahaha!” Mace starts laughing as you spurt juices around his cock.

“Sloppy little thing.  You like being talked to like this?” 

“Uh huh.  James…fuck…harder!”

He smiles at your reflection, and grabs both of your tits.  Using them as reins as he drives into your wet heat.  This is what you are talking about.  You wouldn’t care if he threw you around.  He is using you so well, and you enjoy watching it happen.  Seeing your eyes glazed over and high off orgasms.  

“You got me in a fucking vice grip.  Can you come with me?  I’m almost there.  I’m right there.  Keep…keep squeezing.  Yes!  Fuck yes!” Warmth shoots into your hole, and you start going limp, but Mace keeps fucking it even deeper into you.  He was a crazed man at finally feeling a hole drenched in his cum.  His cock draws out of you, covered in both of your creams.  “Fuck yes!  Fuck yes!”

Letting your body drop to the bed, where he still keeps using you.  Like a boy who had just lost his virginity, and didn’t know when to stop so he overstimulates himself.  Hunching into you like it is his job.  Like he’s going to get a grade.  A solid growl exits his mouth.  “Fuck yes!  Fuck…fuck!”

“Mmm,” you tilt your head, watching him with a dopey smile.  He is needy, but when his need is you, it didn’t matter, “Jamesy, you’re fucking me so deep.  Oh, I feel you in my belly.  How does my hole filled with your cum look?” 

“Oh.  Oh…I can look?” 

“Yeah.  I want you to see how you got me gaping, and filled up.  Go on,” panting he pulls his softening cock out of you, and you get back on your knees.  A hand goes underneath you, and you pull your lips apart, “You ready, baby boy?” 

His head nods rapidly, and you start pushing out his cum.  The hot liquid starts to trickle out of your abused hole, and James is mesmerized, “That’s all you,” you moan, starting to finger yourself.  “That’s all of it, you,” letting yourself drop on your back, you start sucking on your fingers that are covered in him.  “Mmm.  Mmm!” 

“How long does birth control take to kick in?” 

Your eyes flutter open, and you try to sit up.  Sore didn’t even touch how you really felt.  A deep ache was inside of you.  It has been years since you have felt all that.  Your hand cups your mound, and you wince.  You had maybe one good more fuck in you, but the bed was empty.  It was good enough.  

Mace probably had somewhere he needed to be.  If that’s all you had of him, it would be enough.  He made sure that you would feel him for a while.  You take a glance over to the clock, it was too early and too late.  A missed call from Casey’s phone with a sweet voicemail from Mirabelle to inform you of their arrival to the park.  

“Uh,” you fully sit up in the bed, and look at your reflection, “You look and feel like a whore,” you tell yourself laughing.  “Son of a bitch,” twisting your head to the side, you look at your body, before struggling to get out of the bed.  

Hickies are all down your neck, and down your chest.  Nipples looked a bit darker, and bruised.  Your thighs sting, and you even had hand and fingerprint bruises all over your body, “I did tell him to use me.  Oh god,” you try to pop your neck, stretching as much as your body allows.  It was tender, but it felt so good.

“Morning, Sunshine.”

“Oh my god,” wrapping an arm around your chest, and covering your twat, you spin around, “James?” 

“Yeah.  I don’t know why you’re bothering covering yourself.  Pretty sure I have licked and fucked everything possible.”

“What are you doing here?” 

“I had an amazing night last night, and I was hoping to continue it this morning, but I know you had to be hungry.  I was.  I’m not the best cook, so I went to the closest place here, it’s McDonald's.  I didn’t know what you would like, so I kinda got one of everything on the menu, and coffee.  Do you like coffee?” 

“You…I thought you…you came back?” 

Mace walks his giant bag of food, and drink carrier of coffee over to the bed, and walks to your closet, throwing any random dress over to you, “There.  Have breakfast in bed with me.  I fed the dog before I left, too.  And yes, I came back.  We had fun.  Yes, you told me that your cunt was mine, and my cock was yours, but I meant what I said.”

“And what was that?  I did,” you look away.  It is silly with how intimate you two had been, but the heat in your cheeks was letting you know how shocked you were to see him.  “You kinda fucked me a bit dumb last night.  I don’t know if I remember what you said.”

Mace chuckles, reaching into the bag for a hash brown, “Glad to be of service.  I meant what I told you before the sex.  I’m in.  Sex is fun and fine, but I’ve never been a just sex kinda guy.”

“What does that mean?” The coffee feels amazing running down your throat.  Even that is raw.  You are need of hydration.  You lost a lot of liquid last night.

“I don’t want to just have sex with you.  What time do the kids get back?” 

“It’ll be late tonight.  They always bounce over to Magic Kingdom and watch the fireworks.”

“I’d like to take you to an early dinner then.  We went a bit backwards.  Fucking before a date, but we had a connection, and…I’m okay with putting on the brakes.  You needed that last night, and so did I.  I’m in.  I want to date you.  I can’t just walk away from you, and…I found a girl who is a bit of an at home teacher.  She just got out of school, and she said she can come over to your house three days a week.”

“Thanks, but…you can’t…well, I don’t know how this works.  I wouldn’t…but I already have, and…”

“Sunshine, please, tell me what you're thinking,” Mace places a calming hand on your knee.  It is soothing, comforting.  You hadn’t ever had a partner with Mirabelle, but it is definitely too soon for that.  But this man had found a teacher for her.

“It wasn’t my plan to have my kids involved, but they already are, and…I don’t know how to do this.”

“Well…we can keep doing what we were doing.  Maybe on nights that Casey and Will have the kids, we have our time.  If you have a teacher with Mirabelle…I get lunch breaks.  Do you?” 

Biting at your lip, you reach for his biscuit, and take a bite, “Are you asking for a quickie on the job?” 

“I was actually asking about a little chat in the grove.  But if you want to wet my dick, I will not argue.  It doesn’t have to be sex.  I like you.  I like your kids, in a not creepy way.  I think Benning kinda likes me, and Mirabelle, I know she does.”

“So…we’re dating?” Leaning a bit closer to you, Mace nods his head with a smile.  “Are we still having sex while we’re dating, or are we stopping that all together?” 

“I’ll tell you what, when your birth control kicks in, we’ll go back to sex.  Speaking of which, I went ahead and bought Plan B, and some condoms.  I’m not pushing you or anything, I just think it’s best to be better prepared.  But I think slowing down and getting to really know each other sounds nice, yes?”

“Yeah.  I do, too,” he is surprising.  He wanted you, but not just your body.  He enjoyed spending time with you.  The fact that the introduction to your kids already happened, and was decently successful made you even more comfortable.

“And I thought you might need a break, sorry for the bruises.”

“I’m not,” he looks down at your lap, his cheeks flushing a bright red.  “I like being manhandled from time to time.”

“Well, you still need a break.  Maybe we can pick out the things Mirabelle needs for her home learning?  Or just watch a movie.”

“Or both.”

“I like both.”

“Me, too,” you didn’t know both was an option.  “And I really need some water.  I’m parched, and famished.”

“Ahh, got you a water bottle beside your bed along with some aspirin.  You can’t live on greasy breakfast food, and coffee alone.”

This was new.  It was fun.  And it was interesting.  But mostly it was comfortable.  Too easy even, but you aren’t going to deny yourself that.  It was a relief not having to be alone another day.  Saturday’s were usually for cleaning up the house, and washing clothes, but you didn’t have to do it alone.  You had company, and one that you enjoyed spoiling and taking care of.  Judging by the McDonald’s and drugstore run, he did, too.  And you were going to let him.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @elrw24 @midnightramyeoncravings @midnightramyeoncravings @maroonsunrise83​ @resurrectedlily​

[onsunnyside]

Ngl,

I always got the feeling Mace never got laid enough and that’s one of the reasons he was so moody (also the fact he was RIGHT about the change of course being a bad idea and EVERYONE fucking ignored him). Methinks maybe the Icarus II crew decides to take matters into their own hands and either do a bit of fluffy matchmaking between Mace and the sunshiney optimist reader or maybe Y/N confronts him about his mean behaviour and he shows her how ‘mean’ he can really be… and suddenly Mace is walking around like the cat that got the cream and Y/N is… well, the cream.

he was very right 🫡 he deserved better 🫡🫡

🌟 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

this !! this is the sunshine romance i want 😫 moody grump!Mace picks fights with everyone, physically fights with Capa and throws a damn fit when someone disagrees with him. the whole crew find it very irritating and even considers quarantining him just to have some calm, but then they notice how he's quiet, relaxed, bearable, and maybe even a little happy when you're around (which isn't that often bc you're usually in the lab, messing with equations or helping Cora with the garden). and ofc, for the sanity of the team, they play match-maker 🫢 let's combine those ideas:

"Y'know... you could be nicer to Capa, he's a good guy."

Mace finished the last of his dinner, gathering your plate and walking to the sink.

"You're a good guy too," You add, fearful you might have overstepped already. You liked Mace a lot, enough that you get butterflies whenever he's around. "I know it seems lonely and different out here, but we only have each other."

"I know, I know." He exhales, muscles tense under his shirt, "I think I'm just really frustrated."

"Um, I'm sure you could get some private time in the gym and work out all that tension."

Mace snorts, turning around and leaning on the counter. His built arms cross over his chest and his sleeve strains over his bicep, exposing a peek of his tattoo. "The kind of frustration I have can't be relieved alone."

It takes a few moments for you to understand, and when you do, your eyes widen. "Oh! That's—That's, um..." Heat washes over your body, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"You do that a lot."

Gnawing on your lip, you twiddle your fingers. "Do what?"

"Apologize when you shouldn't." Mace returns to the table, this time right next to you instead of across. "You're the softest out of all of us. The optimist, the caregiver, the friend, whenever one of us needs someone to lean on or vent to, you're there."

He hesitantly reaches out, grasping your chin to turn you to face him. You look so nervous, like a sudden noise could send you into hiding. Soft, yeah, you're really soft.

"You must be so tired, huh? Taking care of everyone else and forgetting about yourself." His thumb gently tugs your bottom lip, releasing it from between your teeth, "I could take care of you, sunshine. You just gotta say the word."

uhm... sweet daddy!mace anyone ?? 😪😪 he'd be so protective over you, he'd make sure you're eating and staying hydrated, getting lots of sleep and staying away from work on particularly tough days bc you get overwhelmed sometimes 🥺 space was isolating and lonely and you had a mission to complete. it felt like the pressure was never-ending, but Mace is always there to take the weight off your shoulders, make you forget about all those worries and just breathe 🥺🥺

[you-need-not-apply]

Starwars: Mace Windu writes a list

Chapter 1 and 2 are now up!

11. Do not teach the younglings, or anyone for that matter, to curse in any language. 

17. Knight Skywalker, I don't care what they're paying you, I'll double it. Stop advertising for pro-droid companies in the middle of battle.

28. Illegal pod racing is just that; illegal.

[larkusthefriend]

Made this a couple weeks ago and completely forgot about posting it so here it is on tumblr now that I remembered

[lamaenthel]

Tivaevae | Chapter One: Ripped At The Seams

Still struggling to emotionally recover from Master Obi-Wan's deception, Ahsoka discovers in the aftermath that twelve-year-old Boba Fett has been locked up among adults in the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. After convincing Chancellor Palpatine to grant him a pardon, she manages to secure his release on the condition that she serve as his legal guardian. Now, with the help of Master Plo and the Wolfpack, she vows to help him track down what family he has left.

| AO3 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

Fandom: Star Wars Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Boba Fett, Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Kanan Jarrus, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CC-1119 | Appo, Dexter Jettster, FLO | WA-7 (Star Wars), Shaak Ti, ARC Commander Blitz (Star Wars), CT-6922 | Dogma, Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), CC-3636 | Wolffe, Clone Trooper Sinker (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Comet (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody, CT-5597 | Jesse, CT-4860 | Boost, Aurra Sing, Tobias Beckett, Null-11 | Ordo Skirata, Kal Skirata, Original Mandalorian Characters (Star Wars), Original Droid Characters (Star Wars), Original Jedi Character(s) (Star Wars) Total Word Count: 123,000 Chapter Word Count: 6,751

"And then Grey was like skoosh skoosh skoosh–" Caleb held up an imaginary carbine and let loose a series of blasts, so enthusiastic about his reenactment that he nearly fell off of the courtyard bench. " –and the SBD just exploded! He got him right in the power core! And then-and then-and then I did a backflip off of his shoulder, and I cut three B1's in half! It was so wizard."

"You did?" Mace gasped, theatrically placing a hand on his chest in feigned shock. He had a reputation for being overly stoic, cold even, but there was nothing that defrosted the Master like his Padawans. Depa had dropped off young Caleb to have lunch with his Grand-Master with a weary gratitude that Obi-Wan remembered well; ironically, it had usually been Mace that would give him a break from Anakin more often than not, back then.

"Sure did," Caleb raised his chin proudly. "Have you ever done that with your commander, Master Obi-Wan?" he asked eagerly, looking at him from the other side of Mace with bright turquoise eyes.

Obi-Wan swallowed his mouthful of salad. "Unfortunately, no," he said with a smile. "I think I might squash poor Cody if I tried, though, I weigh a bit more than you."

"Is that why you're watching your figure?" Mace asked wryly, looking at Obi-Wan's bowl of fresh greens.

"I don't care if they're nutritionally complete, human beings were not intended to survive off of ration bars alone," Obi-Wan grumbled into his salad.

"I didn't jump off Grey, I jumped off the battle droid!" Caleb giggled.

"Ah," Obi-Wan said. "Well, the answer is still no, but I'll make sure to bring it up to him before our next strategy meeting."

"Good idea!" Caleb said with a grin, then shoved a handful of fried tatos in his mouth. His nerfburger had been inhaled two meandering stories ago.

"Well, I'm impressed. That sounds like a very successful first mission." Mace gave him a pat on the back then added an unholy amount of orbakradish paste to his bowl of red turu rice, green peppers and bantha strips.

"Can I have some?" Caleb asked curiously, staring at the bright green bottle his grand-master had pulled from his pocket curiously.

"It's very spicy," Mace warned before leaving a tiny smudge on the boy's plate, then took a stoic bite of his rice bowl.

Caleb carefully dipped a corner of his fried tato in the orbakradish and took a bite. His eyes went wide. "Ow," he said faintly, and held his mouth open. "Aow. Aow."

Mace chuckled, dipped a tato in the cup of vinegar on the other side of Caleb's plate, then popped it in his open mouth. "I did warn you," he said as Caleb furiously chewed. "Orbakradish isn't like capsaicin. For that, you need some sort of cream. To cure this, you need vinegar."

Caleb sighed with relief. "Thanks, Master." He hurriedly popped another vinegar-soaked tato in his mouth, then finished off the rest of the plate with the speed that only eleven-year-old boys could manage without making themselves sick. Mace and Obi-Wan exchanged amused looks while they ate their own meals at a less tornadic pace.

"Go on, Padawan. Time to meditate, then practice your forms at the training salle." Mace patted Caleb on the back and took his empty plate once he'd licked it clean.

"Will you come and– I mean, I would be honored if you would spar with me after your Council meeting is done, Master." Caleb said bashfully. "If you want to. I, um, I know you're busy."

"I'm not sure how long I'll be, but I'll head down to the salles as soon as we're done. I'd be happy to spar with you, Padawan." Mace patted his cheek fondly and winked.

"Okay!" Caleb bowed hurriedly to Mace and then Obi-Wan. "Bye, Masters!" He took off at a run, almost tripping on his robes twice before disappearing around the corner.

"I miss that age," Obi-Wan said forlornly. "They're still so enthusiastic about everything. Once they hit puberty…"

"The attitude, I know," Mace said knowingly. He took a final bite from his rice bowl and reached a hand out for Obi-Wan's dish. "I'm grateful for Depa and Devan. Echuu was a handful. Girls are easier."

"Girls are not easier," Obi-Wan snorted, then rubbed his bald head, textured with a thousand offended bumps. The whole thing was so damn itchy, he'd had to meditate three times that morning just to keep his sanity. Perhaps Lace had some procaine cream in the medbay that he could borrow until all of the hairs had poked through the skin.

"Mine were," Mace shrugged.

"Yours aren't vindictive," Obi-Wan sighed.

"Why would they be?" Mace asked blithely. "I trained them well. They are above pettiness."

Obi-Wan glared at the sky instead of Mace. "Lucky you," he said to the speeder traffic above the Temple.

"I warned you about the consequences of leaving Anakin and Ahsoka out of the loop," Mace reminded him. "You insisted."

"I know." They both stood and began the long walk to the Council chambers elevator.

Mace passed their bamboo dishes onto a waste droid when they passed one then fished around for something in his pocket. "And you are the one who suggested that they go on the mission that 'killed' you," he pointed out, then popped a mint candy into his mouth.

"I know," Obi-Wan huffed. "I understand that my actions have consequences, Mace, I'm not a child."

"Then why are you so upset?" Mace asked.

"I'm not upset," Obi-Wan said automatically.

Mace rolled his eyes. "You aren't at peace, that's for certain."

"I–" Obi-Wan raised his hands and let them fall. "Ahsoka's never been one to hold a grudge at all, let alone at me. I expected the cold shoulder from Anakin, but not her."

"Ah. She's still hurt, then."

"She's got no reason to be hurt," Obi-Wan insisted.

"She discovered your 'corpse,' my old friend," Mace said.

"Please, p-please Bobi, open your eyes, open your… no, no, no, please no, Bobi please–"

"Would you really be so unmoved if you'd discovered hers?"

She fell to the ground like a ragdoll, dead from a single touch. Her limbs were twisted and her yellow eyes stayed open, filmy and veined with black like the rest of the Dark Side corruption that covered her.

He banished the memories. "That's different," Obi-Wan insisted. "We are not meant to outlive our Padawans."

"Yet we do." Mace called the elevator. "More and more often, it seems. And I do not see that changing until this war is over."

That reminded him. "Have you discussed your idea with Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.

"It's difficult to find a good time to propose an assassination," Mace answered. "Especially the assassination of his old Padawan."

The elevator arrived. The two Masters stepped on and began the journey up.

"You've discussed it with Quinlan?" Mace asked.

"I have. He's not unwilling."

"Good to know."

The two fell silent, and Obi-Wan commanded the mental image of Ahsoka's corpse lying at the feet of her killer to stop popping into his thoughts. The encounter on Mortis felt like a dream. He still wasn't sure what had actually happened, what was real and what was a vision, but the memory of Anakin's yellow eyes and his little girl lying dead and corrupted by the Dark side haunted him at the most inopportune moments.

May he become one with the Force before ever seeing such horrors again.

The elevator opened. The two walked down the hall to the inside of the Council chambers and took their seats in companionable silence. They were still a bit early, and no one else had yet arrived.

"Caleb was not supposed to be in active combat yet," Mace said after a few moments. "In case you were wondering. The mission he was assigned was a scouting mission. The droids were a surprise."

"Do you think I'm judging you, old friend?" Obi-Wan asked with a raised brow.

"No, but I thought you may want to know." Mace leaned back with an unreadable expression on his face. "He is very skilled, but I personally would prefer he not be on the front lines until he gains more experience."

Obi-Wan remembered Ahsoka eagerly bouncing off of the transport and straight onto the front lines of one of the most gruesome campaigns of the early war. "I understand," he said gently. "Unfortunately, there's only one way to get experience."

"I'm aware." The muscle in Mace's jaw worked a bit before he settled into his usual serenity.

"Greetings, Master Windu. Master Kenobi." Shaak-Ti's hologram flickered into view and she bowed her head.

The two men bowed theirs in return. "How fares Kamino?" Obi-Wan asked lightly.

"Sunny, for a change," Shaak-Ti said with a small smile. "The cadets have been training outside all day on the landing pads."

Mace smiled at her. "I'm happy to hear it."

"As am I," Plo said pleasantly. He and Depa bowed from the entrance, Yoda hobbling beside them. Depa spared a fond smile for her old Master as she took her seat, which Mace returned.

More holograms popped up; Kit Fisto, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Saesee Tiin, Agen Kolar, Coleman Kcaj, Luminara Unduli, Oppo Rancisis, and Stass Allie were all still on the front lines. Kit's hologram was cross-legged and floating subtly, broadcasting underwater from the ocean world of Klarn.

"Begin, we shall," Yoda said after clearing his throat. "May the Force guide us as we proceed."

Murmurs of agreement followed him.

"May I be the first to compliment Master Kenobi's haircut," Kit's hologram grinned at him.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan deadpanned, resisting the urge to scratch his blasted scalp again.

"We are all very glad to see you alive and well," Shaak-Ti added with a twinkle in her eye. "You should stay close-shaven. You look twenty years younger."

Obi-Wan sighed. He was very aware; it was half the reason he had grown the beard in the first place. Shaak-Ti's tinkling giggle rang like a bell at his reaction.

A round of chuckles echoed her and Mace held up a hand to quiet them. "Our first order of business," he began with a smile, reading off a datapad, "is– oh." His smile disappeared and his eyebrows went up as he glanced over at Obi-Wan. "Padawan Ahsoka Tano has requested to speak with us."

Obi-Wan sat at attention. "She has?" he asked, surprised.

"Go ahead and send her in," Mace said into the comlink in his chair. "Do you know what this is about?" he asked Obi-Wan curiously.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I've no idea," he answered.

The chamber doors opened and Obi-Wan watched Ahsoka step primly inside, pointedly not looking at him despite his centrality in her line of sight. He crossed his legs and frowned.

"Koh-to-yah, little 'Soka," Plo said. "Why have you come before us today?"

"Koh-to-yah, Master Plo. And thank you for allowing me to speak with you on such short notice, Masters," Ahsoka said politely. She made a deep bow and stood with perfect posture, her hands clasped in front of her. "I wish that this was not necessary, but as a Jedi I am a mandated reporter of abuse. If I witness the mistreatment of a child, I must speak up."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, his ire easing. "What did you witness, dear?" he asked, the epithet slipping out automatically.

Her eyes slid onto him and he was immediately taken aback by how cold they were. "I need to report that there is a twelve-year-old human child being held in a maximum security prison facility alongside murderers, rapists, and violent criminals of all sorts right here on Coruscant," she said icily.

Obi-Wan's stomach dropped. He already knew who she was referring to, and cac, it should have been him reporting it. He'd completely forgotten about his encounter with Boba Fett. He had been so consumed with not just keeping his cover and managing Bane, but blocking the Force bond he shared with his Padawans in order to sell his death that Boba had simply slipped his mind. Force, the shock of seeing a twelve-year-old clone in the middle of supermax dissipated almost as soon as it had struck and Obi-Wan had just… left him there. He felt an alkaline knot of guilt twist around his belly.

There was a smattering of surprised gasps among the Councilors.

"Who is this child?" Depa demanded.

"What could he have possibly done to be imprisoned?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked, bewildered.

Master Luminara shook her head. "We must contact the Guard at once, surely there was an error–"

Ahsoka held up a hand. "The boy is Boba Fett, Masters. After his failed attempt on Master Windu's life, he was sent to the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center."

Looks of grim understanding passed between the Council members. Mace leaned forward. "He's in an adult prison?" he asked, anger coloring the edges of his voice. "Has he been there since he was taken into custody?"

"It would appear so, Master, yes."

Mace sank back, frowning severely. "I recommended leniency," he murmured, almost to himself. "The Chancellor assured me his age and his trauma would be taken into account. I believed he'd be sent to a juvenile facility at worst."

"As did I," Plo said heatedly. "Adult prison, for a child. This is not justice."

"Padawan Tano, find out this information, how did you?" Yoda asked, frowning.

"Well, Master," she said, turning, and Obi-Wan was slightly mollified to hear her address Yoda with the same frostbitten tone. She still hadn't forgiven him for Dogma. The clone was thankfully still alive, as Shaak-Ti had made enough of a fuss on Kamino to have gotten him imprisoned instead of immediately euthanized, but Ahsoka wouldn't be satisfied until he was back in the 501st. "I was viewing the helmet-cam footage from the prison riot that Master Kenobi participated in, and–"

"Is that footage not classified?" Ki-Adi-Mundi interrupted, frowning.

"The report is, but the footage was not, no," she said. "I watched it multiple times, and after I saw Master Kenobi fighting Boba I checked his report." Her eyes flicked onto him and then back to Ki-Adi-Mundi. "There's no mention of Boba in the non-redacted portions."

There was no mention of Boba in it at all, because Obi-Wan had forgotten about him like an idiot. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. A dozen heads turned and stared at him, and he'd never missed his beard more than he did at that moment.

"You fought Boba Fett?" Plo asked him sharply.

"Moralo Eval paid him to start a brawl with me in order to provide a distraction for his and Bane's escape," Obi-Wan said, staring at Ahsoka. She was very carefully studying her boots. He'd bought her those boots. "After I inserted myself into the escape party I… lost track of him."

"He is very small for his age," Ahsoka said with false sympathy. "I know you had bigger concerns at the time, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan's skin crawled like it was covered in ants. All of the extra blood rushing to his face was making his stubble itchier than ever.

"We will contact the Chancellor regarding Boba immediately, Ahsoka," Plo insisted, on the edge of his seat and visibly displeased. "We will ensure the boy is placed into a foster home and receives mind healing. Thank you for your diligence, and for bringing this injustice to our attention."

"Thank you, Master," Ahsoka said with a smile, then bowed to him. Obi-Wan felt irrationally jealous of the warmth in her tone. "But I am not sure that a foster home would be the best fit for Boba. He's young, but skilled at both combat and subterfuge. I'm concerned that he would escape and be at just as much risk on his own." She frowned. "He would likely seek out his father's old compatriots again."

"A fair concern," Kit conceded, his smile long gone.

"Do you have a suggestion?" Depa asked mildly.

Ahsoka clicked her heels together. "I would like to volunteer to serve as Boba's temporary legal guardian until I can reunite him with his family," she said solemnly.

The Council chamber went silent in surprise.

"You're only sixteen," Obi-Wan said faintly. "You can't–"

"Actually, as sixteen is the age of responsibility on Shili, I can," she said frostily. "I am a legal adult."

"It's seventeen on Coruscant," he argued. "You–"

"I believe that if I am trusted to lead a battalion of clone troopers into combat, I should be trusted to safeguard the well-being of a single child," she said, speaking over him. "And according to the most recent immigration statutes passed in the Senate, as a full, dual citizen of both worlds, I am actually considered a legal adult on Coruscant." She smiled at him, all teeth.

"Does he have a family?" Saesee Tiin asked. "I was under the impression that Jango Fett was a loner."

"I spoke with the older clones before coming to the Council, Master," Ahsoka said with perfect poise, and Force did it irritate Obi-Wan to see her use her manners for once. "They informed me that there were members of the Cuy'val Dar – that is, the Mandalorian trainers that Jango Fett recruited to train the clones for war – several of them were very close to him. Under the Mandalorian tradition, some could be considered family."

"What an excellent idea, Padawan," Plo said. "I would be grateful if you would come with me to meet with the Chancellor. I'm certain that you will be able to help me persuade him of the right course of action. We will seek out these Cuy'val Dar together, and reunite young Boba with what family remains to him."

Ahsoka bowed again. "It would be my honor, Master," she said sweetly.

Obi-Wan continued to silently seethe.

"Thank you again, Masters, for taking the time to speak with me," she said warmly, then her eyes flickered over to Obi-Wan. "I do hope that Master Kenobi is not censured too severely for failing to report such egregious abuse of a child. I'm certain he was simply preoccupied with his mission."

That was it. Ahsoka did not get to march into the Council chambers wearing boots that he had bought for her and humiliate him in front of his peers out of childish spite. Obi-Wan's hand slammed down onto the arm of his chair, startling everyone. "A word, Padawan," he said through gritted teeth.

"Of course, Master Kenobi," she said serenely.

He stood and led her brusquely from the Council chamber by her right bicep, ignoring the whispers of his fellow Council members behind them.

"An deach thu às mo chiall?" he hissed once the doors had closed and they had a spot of privacy. He released her arm and glared down at her. "Carson a tha thu a’ toirt eas-urram dhomh?"

"Apologies, Master Kenobi," Ahsoka said politely. "I didn't intend to publicly disrespect you."

He stared down at her. Her refusal to speak Maor-Grásta back to him hurt more than the silent treatment. That was their language. No one else at the Temple spoke the indigenous language of the planet crudely known as Stewjon, not even Anakin, though he had tried to teach him. "So this is how you're going to be, then?" he asked finally.

She blinked at him. "I'm not sure what you mean, Master."

"You damn well do," he snapped, and finally gave in to the urge to scratch his damn scalp. "This is childish of you, Ahsoka. You're better than this."

"Better than what?" she asked, cocking her head. "I've been nothing but polite, Master, but if you find my conduct unbecoming then I apologize. I will meditate on our interaction until Master Plo calls me to meet with the Chancellor." She bowed and turned to leave.

Obi-Wan caught her by the left arm and spun her back around. She hissed in pain and ripped her arm away.

"Please refrain from putting your hands on me, Master Kenobi," she said frostily.

Obi-Wan stared at her, knowing that if he asked what was wrong with her arm he'd get no answer. "I'm not putting my… Ahsoka, please, stop this."

"I'm not sure what you wish me to stop, Master."

"Stop acting like you've never met me before!" Obi-Wan said, raising his voice in frustration.

For just a second, her placid mask crumbled and he saw the devastation she was hiding underneath. The mask reappeared and she looked away, pursed her lips and shrugged. "Recent events have shown that I haven't, Master," she said quietly. "Not really."

Obi-Wan sagged and this time, he didn't stop her from walking away.

Ahsoka went through her mental checklist again. She couldn't muck this up. If she somehow pissed off Chancellor Palpatine or failed to convince him that Boba didn't belong in supermax, the kid was screwed.

"Do not be nervous, little 'Soka," Plo whispered, squeezing Ahsoka's right shoulder reassuringly. They sat together on a plush bench in a waiting area right outside the Chancellor's office.

"I can't help it, Master," she whispered back. "What if I make it even worse, somehow?"

"I would advise you, respectfully of course, to think of what your Master would not do and try that."

Ahsoka snorted. His aura was a little too gold with humor for the seriousness of the situation.

"Trust in the Force. We are in the right, here, and we know this."

She nodded. "Yes, Master."

"You may enter," one of Chancellor Palpatine's secretaries called from the doorway; a short, plump Human woman with black hair shorn down to the scalp and the pale skin of someone who worked and lived exclusively indoors.

Ahsoka took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then followed Master Plo to the Chancellor's office. He was still sitting at his desk, writing something with an electric pen that showed up as a language she didn't recognize on the left side of his desk.

"Master Koon," the Chancellor smiled, and bowed his head. "And Padawan Ahsoka. My, how you've grown since I last saw you! I must say, Anakin raves about you every time we meet. He is very proud of you."

"Thank you, Chancellor," Ahsoka said sheepishly, ducking her head. There was nothing specific about the Chancellor himself that put her on edge, it was the office. There was just something unnerving about it. The statues of the Four Sages seemed to watch her from their posts bordering the room, and some of the art vibrated weirdly in the Force. Nothing she could pin down, just off.

She peered down at the unfamiliar writing on the Chancellor's desk. "That's a beautiful script," she said, projecting her aura out over the room with green serenity-amiability. It helped block out the weird vibrations of his artwork. "I don't recognize it."

"It's the poet's script," the Chancellor said, his naturally violet aura gone blue with appreciation. "It's an old traditional practice on Naboo. It's never been a spoken language, but one used solely for the arts."

"That's fascinating," Ahsoka said, returning his smile. "Do you write poetry, Chancellor?"

He chuckled and looked down, darkening with humility. "Oh, I dabble," he confessed with a smile. "It's a bit self-indulgent, of course, but it calms my mind."

"Nonsense, Chancellor," Plo assured him. "It is good to know that even in this period of war and violence, our leader makes time to create something beautiful for the galaxy."

Ahsoka was impressed. Plo could give Ob– Master Kenobi a run for his credits when it came to schmoozing.

"Ah, well," the Chancellor shrugged, his smile widening. "I doubt you called for an emergency meeting to discuss my poetry, dear. What can I do for you?"

Ahsoka sat up straight. "There has been a grave miscarriage of justice, Chancellor," she said solemnly. "Boba Fett has been placed into supermax alongside adults instead of a juvenile facility. He is a Fett clone, yes, but totally unaltered. He ages at a normal rate, not the accelerated rate of the troopers." She adjusted her projection to include a yellow ribbon of pity. "He's only twelve, Sir. Every second he spends in that place his life, his- his bodily sanctity is at risk."

Chancellor Palpatine went gray with surprise. "Oh, goodness," he said, immediately swiping away his poetry and summoning Boba's file up to the holoscreen of his desk. "Let me see here– ah." His holoscreen filled up with copies of legal documents, medical records, and crime scene holopics. "It seems that the judge presiding over his case determined that he was too dangerous to be kept in a juvenile facility." He glanced at her. "I cannot say that I disagree. He is unnaturally skilled for a boy his age, from what I have heard. He killed a Marshall Commander."

"Respectfully, Chancellor, Commander Ponds was murdered by Aurra Sing. Boba could not pull the trigger," Master Plo gently corrected.

"I understand the risks, Chancellor," Ahsoka said. "I would like to volunteer to serve as his legal guardian until I can reunite him with his father's Mandalorian family."

The Chancellor's eyebrows almost hit his hairline. "Jango Fett had family?" he asked, going a lighter gray with shock.

"In the Mandalorian tradition of found family, yes," Ahsoka nodded.

"So young Boba would escape punishment for his crimes against the Republic?" the Chancellor asked after a moment of curt silence.

"Boba Fett is but a child, Chancellor," Plo said peacefully. "He was manipulated by individuals that were once acquainted with his father and they used his grief to their advantage. They abandoned him at the first opportunity."

The Chancellor nodded, thinking. "That may be so, Master Koon, but he did kill hundreds of his fellow clones through his actions."

"He did, Chancellor, that can't be disputed," Ahsoka said softly, projecting strong amber amenability at him. "But he's an orphan, and he's twelve. He's exceptionally vulnerable to manipulation by adults that knew his father. They're the only connection he has left to him."

"The cadets that he infiltrated reported that he seemed reluctant to leave them to their fate," Plo piped up. "While his quest was misguided from the start, his target was Master Windu. The loss of clone life and the destruction of The Endurance was wholly unintentional."

"While sabotaging the hyperdrive of The Endurance, he had an opportunity to end the life of clone trooper Rivers," Ahsoka added. "He spared his life and stunned him instead. We truly believe that if not for the presence of Aurra Sing, Castas, and Bossk, he never would have taken that step."

"So you propose instead that I pardon the one who killed hundreds of clone troopers, naval officers, and support staff on account of his age?" Chancellor Palpatine steepled his hands underneath his chin and looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I cannot in good conscience do such a thing. Aside from the morality of it, the boy could wreak untold damage if he escaped your custody."

"I promise he won't!" Ahsoka exclaimed, leaning forward. "Please, Chancellor. I know he made a terrible error in judgment that cost many lives, but he's twelve."

"So you've said," the Chancellor said dryly, lowering his hands. "Ahsoka–"

Ahsoka impulsively reached across his desk and clasped his hands. "He needs rehabilitation, not a life sentence before it's even began," she said earnestly. She wouldn't go so far as to try and mind trick him, not with Plo right there, but her Empathy was stronger with physical touch. She let burnt-orange supplication roll down her arms and flow from her hands onto his. "Please, Chancellor," she said, popping her porg eyes. "Just give him a chance."

The Chancellor's aura flushed copper with affection-agreement. "You do make a compelling argument," he said fondly, withdrawing his hands after giving hers a squeeze. "The Great Negotiator has taught you well."

Ahsoka ducked her head with a small smile, trying not to let him feel the cold shock of hurt that Master Kenobi's nickname triggered.

"Very well." He raised his chin to look over Ahsoka's shoulder at his secretary. "Go fetch Commander Fox, please."

"Right away, Sir." The secretary scurried off and the Chancellor drew up a document.

"I shall grant Boba Fett a full pardon, effective immediately," he said, then glanced up at Ahsoka with a smile. He transferred something onto a datapad and handed it to her. It was a legal certificate declaring her the legal guardian of one Boba Fett.

Oh, kriff, she hadn't actually let herself believe that she'd get this far. She had a kid. She had a shabla kid. A shabla clone kid.

"Congratulations, my dear, it's a boy," he said with a small chuckle and a wink. "I do hope Anakin isn't too cross with you. I can't imagine that he expected to become a grandfather quite this early."

Ahsoka's stripes went hot. Her Master… was not going to be pleased with her, to put it lightly, but she just couldn't leave Boba in there a second longer than necessary if she could put a stop to it.

"Please, 'Soka, you have to get him out of there," Rex pleaded, staring at the screen with an aura gone stark white with shock-horror-outrage. "He's so little. They'll kill him, they'll– osik, what have they already done to him–"

She would have done it anyway, but Force if Rex's begging wasn't compelling. She'd break Boba out if she had to.

But really, Anakin was going to kill her once he got back from Toydaria with that Force-sensitive toddler.

"Commander!" Chancellor Palpatine said brightly over Ahsoka's shoulder. "Please escort Master Koon and Padawan Tano down to the detention center. Boba Fett is being released into her custody, effective immediately."

"Oh. Interesting. As you say, Sir," Fox said, then turned to Ahsoka and Plo. "Ready whenever you both are," he nodded.

"Take care, Ahsoka," Chancellor Palpatine said warmly, standing along with them. "And do be on guard with young Boba. From what I understand, the boy is quite crafty, despite his tender age."

"Oh I will, Chancellor, don't worry. I remember how much of a handful he was." Ahsoka bowed and tried to ignore the way the statues of the sages stared at her. "Thank you again. You've saved a life today."

"And my thanks as well, Chancellor," Plo added, bowing after her. "We appreciate your expediency."

"I wish you luck in your endeavor, my dear." Palpatine winked at her. "And don't be afraid to visit more often. I've got some stories about Anakin as a youth that you might enjoy."

Ahsoka's stripes flushed again and she picked at her thumb's cuticle.

"Alright, General, Commander. Let's get you over to the prison before sundown." Fox slung his carbine over his shoulder and led the way out.

Boba curled up tighter on his side, willing the pain in his sides to go away. After he'd jumped Hardeen it had been chaos. He wasn't sure if it was the guards or the other bastards he was locked in here with that had broken his ribs, but it didn't really matter. He needed to get better. He couldn't afford to look weak. Prison was worse than a jungle, at least an animal just killed you and was done with it. The predators here liked to play with their food, first.

"Come on, little man, come bunk with me. I know it gets cold at night, you must be shivering with only a lizard to keep you warm–"

At least in solitary Boba could focus all of his energy on healing instead of defending himself. He chewed on his split lip and readjusted his face against the wall so that his black eye was pressed directly against the cold surface.

"Time to go, Fett."

Boba was sitting upright and ready to respond in under a second. Nobody would know by looking at him that he was holding his breath so as not to scream from the pain. One meiloorun, two meiloorun, three meiloorun–

"Go where?" he asked after a few seconds, cool as a caniphant. Fox, on the other side of the bars, had two DC-17 sidearms, a DC-15A carbine, and two vibroblade hits sticking out from his gauntlets. Two pairs of cuffs hung from his belt next to a small canister of capsaicin spray.

Boba could get to the spray the easiest, kick the back of Fox's knee, twist his arm and grab the blaster–

"It's your lucky day, cyar'solus," Fox said, undoing the biometric locks on his cell.

"Don't call me that," he snapped. Damn it, Boba didn't want to go back to genpop yet, he was still too injured. The guards tried to watch out for him; some of them did, anyway, the ones who didn't hiss vod'kyramud when he passed them in the halls. Bossk usually stuck up for him but he was just one man. Boba already had a size disadvantage, but with his ribs fucked his speed suffered. He eyed the capsaicin spray at Fox's belt again. He'd get his ass kicked if he went for it, but they'd keep him in solitary longer. Fox had the frame of a gundark but he wasn't a shabuir, he would just give him another lump or two before locking his cell again instead of rebreaking things on purpose.

Fox snickered. "I'll call you whatever I want. Now face down on the floor, you know how this works."

Yeah, he did. Boba swallowed hard and carefully got on his belly, watching the canister of spray swing closer. The floor was hard but the cold felt good. He took a deep breath and prepared to make his move.

As if Fox knew what he'd been thinking, he walked around him in a wide circle and approached from behind before cuffing him. He pulled Boba to his feet, gentler than he expected. "You're being given a second chance, kid," he said quietly. "Don't kark it up."

"The fuck does that mean?" Boba asked faintly; even with Fox's careful grip, he wasn't able to draw in air properly with the way his ribs were screaming.

"You're getting out."

"What?" Boba tried to spin around and look at Fox, but he kept a firm hold of his cuffed hands and kept him from turning.

"Walk, squirt," Fox said in a bored voice.

Where was he going? Where were they sending him? It hit him then, what had to have happened; Aurra. He knew she wouldn't abandon him. She'd had to make a tactical retreat, that was all. Somehow she'd pulled in a favor or used her connections in the guild, or maybe even kidnapped a judge. He fought down a smirk as they walked past the other inmates, all howling and hissing and complaining about his special treatment.

He was foolish to have given up on Aurra. She really did care about him.

"Stand here." Fox started undoing the locks to the hall that led to the private interview rooms, the ones that prisoners used to meet with their attorneys.

Boba never had an attorney. He had gone through sentencing on his own.

"Alright, walk." Fox took him by the cuffs and shoved him forward through the door. "And be respectful."

"Respectful to who?" Boba grouched.

"Your new mum," Fox snickered, stopping in front of a door halfway down the hall. "Congratulations. You've been adopted."

Boba whipped his head up so fast that black spots appeared in his eyes. "I've been fucking what?" he squeaked.

Fox pushed him inside of the interview room while he was still reeling. Instead of Aurra, the two Jedi who had arrested him were waiting inside; a Kel Dor who towered over everyone, even Fox, and a scrawny orange Togruta with big blue bug eyes and two sabers on her belt. She was taller than he remembered.

"Koh-to-yah, Boba Fett," the Kel Dor said, bowing to him. "I am Jedi Master Plo Koon, and this is Padawan Ahsoka Tano."

"The fuck do you cunts want?" Boba spat, furious at himself for being so stupid that he thought Aurra would come for him. He was such a gullible di'kut. Of course she didn't really care. He was never anything but clout to her, just something of Jango's that she could show off.

The Tog blinked at him, obviously shocked. The little princess obviously wasn't used to bad language. "I, um, I…"

"Go ahead, Ahsoka," the Kel Dor said with a little pat on her back.

She took a deep breath, stepped forward, and then smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt the tension in his back muscles ease a little, weirdly enough. "I want to get you out of here, if that's alright with you."

"Why the fuck should I go anywhere with you?" Boba asked suspiciously, then backed up so he could keep the both of them in plain view. "You're the cunts who put me in here. Why do you care?"

"We never meant for you to be placed in a place such as this, young man," the Kel Dor said apologetically.

"We want to help you find your family, Boba," the Tog said earnestly.

"Are you both fucking stupid?" Boba snapped. "I don't have any family. The Jedi killed the only family I had."

The Tog and Kel Dor exchanged looks. "I know, Boba," the Tog said. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

Boba looked at his feet.

"Why don't we be on our way?" the Kel Dor suggested. "We have much to discuss, but there's no need to do so on an empty stomach. I find myself craving a milkshake."

"Oooh, I could go for a milkshake," the Tog said with her brow markings raised. "How about you, Boba?"

"I don't want a fucking milkshake, I want to know what's going on!" Boba said, backing up into Fox. He… he needed to get away from these people. They had some sort of weird plan for him, he was sure of it. What if they wanted to send him back to Kamino? Maybe they wanted to string him up in a lab and use him to make more of their precious troopers. Without Dad the longnecks couldn't make them like they used to, and Boba was a perfect copy. "What did Fox mean? He said I was going to meet my new mum, what did he mean by that?"

The Tog bit her lip and looked at him. "That, um, that would be me," she said sheepishly. "I… I'm your legal guardian."

"You're my legal guardian?" Boba stared at her. She looked barely older than him, though she was a lot taller than he remembered.

"Yep," she said happily, rocking back on her heels. "So, what do you say? Ready to go?"

Boba glanced up at Fox, who gave him a reassuring nod. "Not like I have a fucking choice, do I?" he asked sullenly.

"No, you don't," the Kel Dor – Koon, Boba remembered he said his name was – said gently. "But I imagine that you would choose to leave the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center."

"Obviously," Boba said, frowning.

"So." Koon shrugged. "Shall we?"

The Tog smiled brightly at him. He realized that she was nervous, and for some reason that made him feel better.

"Fine." Boba rubbed his wrists after Fox unlocked his cuffs. Whatever. Fox didn't need to help him, he could do this on his own. He just had to stick with them long enough to get out of prison. The second the idiots turned their backs, he'd be out of there. Boba glanced up and met the Tog's nervous gaze. "But I'm not calling you fucking Mum."

Author's Notes:

MAOR-GRÁSTA TRANSLATIONS An deach thu às mo chiall?: Have you gone insane? Carson a tha thu a’ toirt eas-urram dhomh?: Why are you disrespecting me? MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS cyar'solus: beloved one, the clones' nickname for Boba since he was a special snowflake chosen baby (Thank you Squid_Ink 😘) shabuir: motherfucker vod'kyramud: brother-killer osik: shit OTHER NOTES Mace has a picture of all of his padawans and grand-padawans in his wallet and he shows everyone constantly. It's canon, George Lucas actually told me himself. Palpatine was pretty easy to convince, wasn't he? It's almost like he likes sowing discord between Anakin and his loved ones hmm odd yes very odd indeed Ponds was promoted for plot related purposes ✌️

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork @soliloquy-of-nemo Dividers: @saradika-graphics

[fanfic-obsessed]

Kaminoans Save

I was thinking this morning about the Kamioans. Specifically the Kaminoans as businessbeings and that their business is cloning. Also on their isolation and the implications that they do not have the knowledge base to understand sentients that are not Kaminoan. Two parts of that, of course, the likelihood that their business is built on cloning non sentients (so they are used to providing for the physical requirements of different species but are not used to the increased psychological needs of so called sentient species) and the sheer timeframe of the GAR cloning project (most projects have their clones sent to their clients in their infancy, thus the psychological needs fall on the clients). From these musings an AU was born. 

We do have to start with the understanding that the Kaminoans in this do not know about Operation Knightfall or Order 66. This project was sold to them as a straight contract (even the chips were provided as an addendum in the contract. The Kaminoans believe that it serves as a way to tell who is a Force User-which technically it does) by the Jedi.  They believe that special dispensation has been granted by the Republic to clone sentients with the aim of potentially changing the law (provided that the Kaminoans can prove that there is an ethical way to clone sentients), which would serve to triple or quadruple their business. 

From that perspective not only do the Kaminoans want the clones to be seen as sentient, they want them to be as individual as possible within the contract (They have still been contracted to grow an army, which does come with restrictions on both individuality and agency). They want the clones to be different from Jango Fett, to prove that what they do is more than a copy.   They are still assigned numbers at birth, but the clones are taught from a young age by the Kaminoans that it is so the clones themselves can find their own names. There is still the double aging through childhood but it is in he best interest of the Kaminoans for it to slow down to regular, or even slower, once the Clones reach peak physical and mental maturity (roughly mid to late 20’s)

Now it is not all sunshine and roses in this universe for the Clones. As the Kaminoans know little about human psychology and the needs of growing humans, Jango Fett (as the genetic progenitor) is contracted to find trainers for the clone army.  Jango Fett is very much on board with Operation knightfall and Order 66. He and most of his trainers see the clones as the meat droids they plan for them to be. There is still decommissioning even if not as frequent(there is no reconditioning, though as that required tech from the Kaminoans, who want to encourage uniqueness for business reasons). The Kaminoans do not realize that the training program and the way that the Clones are treated by the trainers are unusual or abusive for humans for years.  

They are primarily scientists, however, and many begin to notice that Boba Fett was treated significantly differently than the other clones, even taking into account that he does not age as fast (When he is five, he is not being treated like the physically five year olds for instance). At first there are attempts to get answers from the trainers and Jango Fett, who shut all inquiries down.  Like all scientists who are presented with a puzzle (the difference in treatment between Boba and the other clones, and -once they noticed it- how some trainers seem to be treating the clones differently), as a people they start to research human psychology and child rearing. The more business minded of the species like the idea that the next time they get a project like this they will not have to outsource these parts, as it would be cheaper.

The results horrify them, from the research it is clear that the trainers are going to ruin the clones. This was the Kaminoans' livelihood, their reputation.  The clones were their finest creations; each one unique, adaptable, and self aware enough to find solutions for their own shortcomings. The Kaminoans were damned proud of the clones, and did not want to be held responsible for the, clearly, substandard training they were receiving. 

They did not even try to correct Jango Fett or the Trainers. Instead Lama Su reached out to the Jedi, not the Jedi that contracted them of the ‘Jedi’ that they had been dealing with, but the High Council in 977 ARR (23BBY, or a year the clone wars would have started. I need it to be specifically then for Codywan reasons. If Cody is aging double than in 977 ARR, he would be physically and mentally 18, though to me the CodyWan would still not happen for a few years, I personally would be a bit uncomfortable with them meeting much earlier than that; but that is a personal preference). He sends an official complaint that the methods of the trainers ‘hired by the Jedi’ were going to ruin their order. The High Council, confused but feeling like they should not admit it, arranges for a small group to travel to Kamino to ‘discuss the matter and take appropriate action’.  They ask that the Kaminoan not speak of their arrival to the trainers, just in case. 

This group includes Mace Windu, Ki Adi Mundi, Obi Wan Kenobi (as it is generally accepted that his missions go weird and he is one of the best equipped to deal with weird), Anakin Skywalker (as Obi Wan’s Padawan), and Healer Stass Allie. 

The Jedi meet with Lama Su. They ask for him to tell them what is happening ‘as if they did not know about the contract’ to make sure they are not missing any information.  Lama Su does, going over the entire contract, producing the signed waivers (including several that appeared to be signed by the chancellor himself), the contract, who they had made the contract with (Master Sifo-Dyas, in the last days of his tenure on the High Council-where he did have the authority to put in the order for he Clones without telling anyone), who they had been dealing with for the last few year (‘Master’ Tyranus- the Fallen Yan Dooku),  and what the payment was to be (as they were to be paid on delivery). Then what the trainers are doing to the clones and how they(the Kaminoans) had just discovered the damage to their work (As they not only prided themselves on their work but also hoped that this would open up a new industry for them, they take that seriously).

At the end, Mace Windu is quiet for a really long moment before going “It’s clear the contract you signed was made in good faith on your end. However, Master Sifo-Dyas did not make this contract in good faith, and we have no record of Master Tyranus. We will honor the deal you made, you will get paid for the entire amount you were promised. There are going to be some changes, though, because we did not know about this project. I have no doubt about your process, but it is clear that someone wants to sabotage your efforts”

Anakin pipes up before they can go any further, his eyes distant. “They should be paid now, so that no one else can claim the clones belong to them.”

Lama Su is assuaged that they will get paid at least (the cost will drain the Jedi’s discretionary fund and mean that Mace will be sending a dozen Jedi to gamble to refill it again) and willing to make the changes the client suggests. 

Windu asks about the not yet decanted, can the process be paused while the Jedi evaluate.  Once the growth process has started, it cannot be stopped without harming the children in the tubes. Windu nods, and says to finish the growth process for any Tubes that have already been started but to not start any more and that the healer Allie Stass will be remaining to learn their process for decanting (When the chips are mentioned, along with their purported purpose Windu makes it clear that the chips should not be implanted in any more clones, and they would like a sample of the chip to study to see if they needed to remove it from already decanted clones). Military training was to cease immediately, as the Jedi are not legally allowed to have an army.  Instead the Council would be giving some aptitude and interest tests so they can start figuring out how to best assist the clone in finding what they want to do. The Jedi Order would be taking custody of all of the clones, decanted and not, and bringing them to the temple on Coruscant but it would take time to arrange. In the meantime Windu and Obi Wan would be going to bond with the current set of trainers. Obi Wan and Anakin would be staying as part of an oversight process and starting to prepare the clones to move off of Kamino. 

Just before leaving Mundi asks permission to get the Kaminoan in touch with his people. They have no way of knowing if the sentient cloning could continue (Frankly they have no idea how many of those waivers were legitimate, though they did believe Kaminoans believed them to be legitimate). But by nature the Kaminoans were superb geneticists and there had been too few males born to his people for generations. 

So the Kaminoans did end up getting more business after all.