marierg

[marierg]

COME AND GET YOUR READING!!!!

Thank you so much to everyone that submitted recommendations this week! A comprehensive list of this week’s submissions can be found under the cut! Recommendations are organized by show/media, and any main pairings will be listed after the title.

💕 = 18+ content 🟪 = contains spoilers of a currently running show

Fics:

The Clone Wars: It Only Takes a Spark (Purge Trooper Cody x f!Inquisitor Reader) by @vodika-vibes 💕 Time After Time (Commander Cody x f!Reader) by @the-rain-on-kamino Theirs (Commander Fox x f!Reader x Commander Wolffe) by @vodika-vibes 💕 Don't Stop on My Account (Commander Wolffe x f!Reader) by @dickarchivist 💕 One Spotchka Too Many (Captain Rex x f!Reader) by @twistedsarchive Captain Rex x OC Nia Ficlet by @eternal-transcience 💕 The Last Word (Fives x OC Mal Darroch) by @ariadnes-red-thread Shattered Sunrise (Mace Windu x OC Danica Morrow) by @pickleprickle The Choices We Make, The Paths We Tread by lildropofmagic (AO3) The Number Lads by @jgvfhl

The Bad Batch: The Hostage by @kybercrystals94 Freeze Thaw by AnEchoInHere (AO3)

The Book of Boba Fett: 💕 This Tender Love (Boba Fett x f!Reader) by @daimyosprincess 💕 Worth the Risk (Boba Fett x f!Reader) by @daimyosprincess

Star Wars Original Trilogy: Revelations by shOokspeared (AO3)

Republic Commando: 💕 Off the Grid (Niner Skirata x f!Reader) by @the-rain-on-kamino

Batman: Lavender Blood by @starkskypines

Hetalia: Axis Powers: Grey Skies Over London by Gemini Star 01 (ff.net) Every Generation by Gemini Star 01 (ff.net) Gutters by Glassamilk (ff.net) Ditches by Glassamilk (ff.net)

Call of Duty: 💕 Riptide (Price x f!Reader) by @the-californicationist

Crossover AUs: Edward's Babysitting Service (Hetalia: Axis Powers X Fullmetal Alchemist Crossover) by orphan_account (AO3) Conversations With Patronizing Jerks (Hetalia: Axis Powers X Star Wars Crossover) by @basketofnova

Art:

The Clone Wars: Republic Troops 501st Poster by @boggsart Clone Wars Band Art by @pinkiemme Captain Rex Art by @vivaislenska Captain Rex Art by @kheimerios Captain Rex Art by @rackcty Mace Windu Art by @mudpuddless Fives and OC Elara McTavish Art by @aliettali OC Kazi and OC Daria by @eyecandyeoz (from I Yearn and So I Fear by @enigmaticexplorer) Clone OC Atlas Art by @orionfrommars

The Bad Batch: Bad Batch Selfie Art by @collophora Happy Ending Bad Batch Art by @mroddmod Hunter and Omega Art by @blxem1lk Hunter Redesign by @snw-faatuatua 🟪 (TBB S3) Hunter Art by @soularsss 🟪 (TBB S3) CX-2 Art by @notnyxxy Tech Art by @rexxdjarin Tech and Phee's Children OCs by @nightskyfoxyy A Place to Hide by @the-rain-on-kamino

Star Wars Original Trilogy: Young Boba Fett Art by @mrs2224

Jedi: Survivor: BD-1 Art by @eriadus

Batman: Batman's Boys by @inverted-typo

How to Train Your Dragon: Meatlug Art by @spacenintendogs

Call of Duty: Wraith by @bluegiragi

GIF Sets:

The Book of Boba Fett: Kia Kaha, Kia Maia, Kia Manawanui by @bobafettdaily

#ff weekly summary #Fic's a plenty #reading reblog

[marierg]

Just showed this to hubby Tech (Army enlisted 15 years, combat vet) and his quote perfectly encapsulates

"fu*ken west pointer!"

Well you've been demoted.

#god I'm living for these dialogues #I loved it so much this week #tbb spoilers #the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb echo #edmon rampart #vice admiral rampart #or rather not anymore #star wars

[marierg]

Hmmmmmmm (of the high pitched I can't stand the cuteness of this variety)...

Come here and lemme give you a back rub 😏

Love Language

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader

Summary: Simon's oblivious and you just go along with it.

“What’s a love language?”

You frown, looking away from the near-finished deck on your laptop screen and to Simon, whose eyes are on the TV straight ahead. “What?”

“Someone mentioned it at work, seemed like a serious topic. No idea what they were on about.”

“They mentioned it to you?”

“No, I overheard.”

You close your laptop slightly. “It’s how you like to receive love. You can take a quiz to figure it out but it’s basically like getting presents or spending quality time together or verbal cues.”

“Did you take the quiz?” He quirks an eyebrow, looking at you now.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“And?”

“Mine is acts of service. S’why I was all over you last week when you did the groceries and laundry and made me a coffee without asking.”

“Tha’s why?”

“Yep.”

He frowns and looks back at the football game. “Should I take the quiz?”

“You can, but you don’t have to. Yours is pretty obvious.”

“What is it?”

“Physical touch.”

He tuts and shakes his head. “No it’s not.”

“Sure it is!” You laugh.

“I hate touching, s’not my love language. Mine’s like, food.”

“Okay, food is not a love language,” you set your laptop down on the coffee table, revealing your position on the couch. Simon’s facing the TV and you’re sitting sideways with your legs draped over his lap—a position he often maneuvers you into. Even now as he denies his love for physical touch and affection he’s playing with the hem of your sock with one hand and is feeling the smooth, freshly-shaven skin of your leg with the other.

He stares at your expectant expression. “What?”

You gesture to the two of you.

He shrugs and his face turns more confused. “What?”

You shake your head and grab your laptop again. “Oblivious.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day you’re walking together through the park by your building, needing some fresh air. You’re hand in hand until you notice a bunny further up the path and you remove your hand from Simon’s to point it out excitedly. 

With no hesitation, Simon grabs your arm and lowers your hands so they’re back where they were before—between you and interlocked. He continues walking like nothing just happened—albeit with a slightly tighter grip on your fingers—but you smirk at the side of his face.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

The movie’s only just started, but Simon’s already asleep on top of you. His head is resting against your stomach and your legs are tangled together. You continue to watch the action as your fingertips absentmindedly scratch at his scalp. Eventually you stop, opting instead to clasp your hands behind Simon’s back. He groans and you look down at him. He doesn’t move, but he groans again.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

He grabs your elbow to lazily direct your hand back to his head. You smother your knowing smile and resume scratching at his scalp and playing with his hair until the movie’s over.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Your grip is tight around the spindles of your headboard and your head is thrown back as Simon thrusts into you, until he pauses to unwrap your fingers from the wood and encourage you to wrap your arms around his neck instead. He does the same with your legs and his waist before carrying on.

You gently bite his earlobe with a smile.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Time for the shoe swap.”

You made it all night in your heels, but you won’t make the walk home. And that’s exactly why you brought a big purse to stuff your flats in for the inevitable. You dig your hand into your bag, depending on the streetlights to aid you in finding your shoes amongst the rest of your junk that you should really clean out of there. You feel them and are about to pull them out when Simon couches in front of you, facing away.

“What are you doing?”

“Get on,” he says from over his shoulder. “Acts of service, right?”

You smirk and nod like you fully agree. “Right. Acts of service.”

You hop onto his back and he adjusts you so your ankles are locked and your cheek is pressed up against his. “Good?”

You giggle and kiss his temple. “Good.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

“Sorry I’m late!” You huff as you rush into your office. “I uh…” was forced to make out for 20 minutes on my way out of the apartment and missed two trains because my boyfriend moped about having to be home alone on his day off. “I left my laptop and had to turn around.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Simon comes home exhausted, complaining about a group of young soldiers thinking they’re too good to take orders and clean up around base. You tilt your head in sympathy and grab his face to rub your thumbs on his flushed cheeks.

He snatches you up and runs you into your room.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I think it’s words,” he says one morning while he’s got himself wrapped around you in bed. You can barely breathe. “My love language.”

You roll your eyes and shove his hulking body off of you to reach over to your nightstand for your phone, pulling up the quiz and shoving it into his hands. “Prepare to have your mind blown.”

#cod #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #other people’s beautiful writing #i cant stop smiling

[marierg]

Kaiwhakangau

My redesign of Hunter~

I'm very pleased with how his moko inspired face paint turned out, eventually I will design his true tā moko as I personally think he would first use paint to pay homage and down the line he will seek out a tohunga ta moko (moko specialist) to receive his earned moko.

Designing this was SUCH a challenge, I still wanted to keep the general shape to keep it recognizable but also stay true to the moko.

Now that I have a ref I'll work on more angles and possibly tweak his whole design all together. Feel free to use as a ref yourself! Just credit me please!!

Next I'm going to work on Omega and I'm very excitedddd

#i love this so much omg #star wars #tbb #tbb hunter #temeura morrison #representation #I can't wait to see how omega turns out! #eeeeeee!

[marierg]

2nd poster out of the 6 i just finished for my small thesis project You can check out the other one I made of the Bad Batch here ✨✨

Coruscant Guard

104th

[marierg]

Cody holding baby Luke <3

[marierg]

The line that came to mind with this post

when your kid goes missing for the 11th time

#star wars #tbb #tbb hunter #hunter fanart #both hot and scary

[marierg]

Eeeep! (Straightens outfit and tries not to trip)

Mr. Fett would like to see you

#who me? #boba fett fanart #boba fett #star wars #other people’s amazing art

[marierg]

A Soap in its natural habitat.

For "Soap It Up" by @glitterypirateduck

[marierg]

"Hello there, little guy. Enjoying the sunset, too?"

[marierg]

no thoughts, just Canon Live-Action Fives and Wolffe

#oh yes yes yes #yes please #omg yeeeeessssss #the clone wars #star wars #clone wars #commander wolffe #fives #arc trooper fives #tcw #lucasfilm #sw tcw #star wars tcw #tcw fives #tcw wolffe

[marierg]

Uh huh .. me too 🥰🥰🥰

for all my clone simps

it’s me, I’m the clone simp

#it's all of us really #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #corporal echo #the clone wars #the bad batch #star wars #swtbb #swtcw #temuera morrison #clone wars #tbb #lucasfilm #star wars the bad batch #star wars the clone wars #AHHHHHHHH

[marierg]

@chaosandmarigolds here he is 😁

#bullshiticus #caffeina #to bless you during this the time of finals #and all who suffer under the yoke of college

[marierg]

Preview for Rex x reader smut

Warnings; Rex is so overwhelmed he starts speaking full mando’a

Minors get the fuck out of here

#x reader #captain rex #holy hell #more please #oh... #oh ma god...

[marierg]

You mean this guy's grand Padawan...

Love luke's chaotic energy tbh. He's like yeah I'm just gonna trust this crazy old man in the desert. The death star?? Idk but I shot some womp rats for fun, this is gonna be a cakewalk. His first instinct when encountering darth vader is shooting at him he starts bar fights randomly he just goes with what the force says on missions, He's like yes Vader's been the hulking shadow terrorizing the galaxy for twenty years but I think he can be Good I Trust him to do the Right Thing. This guy is the epitome of idk what's going on but I trust the force and my feral instincts. He's like if a geese was given a lightsaber and also a very very big heart I love that for him

#for real #star wars #luke skywalker #my ramblings #star wars headcanons #qui gon would have adored him #qui gon jinn

[marierg]

I’m about to have a fun afternoon.

So my trainer’s bf cheated on her. She broke up with him. He’s holding her stuff hostage until she agrees to talk with him. Which she refuses.

She trains; for free mind you; three college linebackers, a college wrestler, two martial artists, a body builder, and… wait for it…. a Navy seal. We’re gonna go get her shit for her.

This should make for an interesting story.

#heroes in the modern age #the best of dude Bros #the seal guy though #never not re-blogging

[marierg]

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh HOW DID I MISS THIS?! READING ASAP!!!

Shatterd Sunrise: Chapter 3

The Republish is ash. The Jedi are extinguished. The galaxy has dimmed in the shadow of Darth Sidious. Mace Windu has survived. With everything he’s ever known destroyed, he’s determined to find a way to continue his life’s mission. However, with all lost, he also struggles against losing himself to the anger that makes Vaapad possible and so dangerous. A tinkerer from the deepest depths of Coruscant may be the way.

Pairing: Mace Windu x OC: Danica Morrow

Word Count: 2.5k

Rating: M

Chapter Summary: Mace Windu explores The Deeps while assisting Danica and becoming closer to her. Of course, trouble finds him and he begins to think of a new way to continue being a Jedi.

Warnings: references to Order 66, a bit of canon-typical violence

FROM THE PERSONAL JOURNALS OF MACE WINDU The Coruscant Deeps remind me of one of my first missions with Master Myr. We’d been tasked with settling a border dispute on a world with an endless ocean. The warring civilizations existed so deep beneath the surface that the planet’s sun was practically a myth. They had engineered artificial lights in an attempt to make off-worlders more comfortable, but most light came from the bioluminescence of the citizens. The dispute itself was complicated by the ocean currents and turned out to be a problem Jedi could not solve. It’s similar here. The citizens don’t naturally emit light but use personal light devices that are sometimes ingenious. The well-off have lights woven within their clothes. Some have extensive piercings and tattoos. Many simply have pins affixed to their clothing. Danica weaves light cords into her braids and has programmed them to sparkle or flash in different colors, patterns, and intensities. From what I can tell, she’s synched them with a bracelet that allows her to control them. It’s beautiful and disorienting.  I’ve chosen The Force as my light in The Deeps.

*

“Just put them on. You need to fit in,” Danica ordered, shaking the personal lights in his face.  “I’m tired of having this argument with you.”

Mace had often walked with Danica outside the shop for errands. He’d also taken a few independent jaunts to get the lay of the land and adjust his eyes to the dim. Yet, on those jaunts, he always sensed her presence from a distance, following through The Deep’s many shadows. She was slender, nearly as tall as him, and hardly looked a threat; but he’d come to know her – and this place – well enough that he wondered how dangerous this Chiss woman could be.

Now he was finally strong enough and moved naturally enough with the droid limbs that he would be accompanying Danica to her bi-weekly stall in the market a couple levels up. His face on that trading card made him worry about being spotted lest she was put in danger. When he’d expressed that concern, she’d rolled her eyes and said Skywalker and Kenobi are the only ones anyone down here really know. It’s fine. Calm down.

That made him ache for the slaughtered Jedi. So much death. So many lines wiped out. The weight of that pain and terror and sense of failure that now seemed to permeate his sense of The Force. . . every time he opened up so much of a sliver of himself to it. . . it made him want to lay down and never get up. The droid limbs were heavy—

Not today. Move forward, old man.

Mace relented and affixed a light device on each shoulder of his sleeveless black shirt and two more above the knees of his black trousers. Danica fiddled with the intensity on each and when she was satisfied, they each donned large packs carrying her wares and tools and headed out.

He was uncomfortable without his Jedi garb and robe, but stars, it was sohot down here. Steam constantly seeped from vents that lead to who knew where, and most flat surfaces glistened with greasy moisture. As always, it was only a few minutes before sweat ran down his back. Despite the damp heat and thick atmosphere, Danica wore a long-sleeved shirt, coat, and pants heavy with pockets, and no sign of sweat.  

The heat and humidity weren’t all that different from the jungle planets he’d visited, but at least those worlds had ample vegetation and rains to cleanse the air and dappled sunshine through the trees. The Deeps seemed to hold all the worst parts of the jungle with no relief. However, part of being a Jedi was to be adaptable and Mace Windu remained both. He’d powered through it and adjusted for the most part, but continued to sweat and he detested being sweaty.

Trailing behind Danica, he assessed anyone who came near and resisted using The Force to monitor the shadowed spaces where trouble may lurk, relying on pure awareness. Many paths had been well mapped out over the last several weeks. Of course, Danica had walked these paths untold times alone and probably didn’t need the help, but it gave him purpose. Lack of purpose was worse than the enemy being fused to his body.

Once at the market stall, they shrugged out of the packs and went about setting up: two-thirds of the space was merchandise, the rest was Danica’s mobile workshop. Wires in this bin. Plasticine in that bin. Scrap metal in another. Behind those were items that were nominally intact, but non-functional. Furthest back, out of the reach of passersby but easily seen was the merchandise that worked. Mace’s role was to handle sales while Danica focused on quick repairs and contracts for longer tasks, which were more profitable. Don’t haggle, she’d reminded. The price is the price.

The work was easy: simple exchanges of money and product with few words in Basic, for which Mace was thankful as he still hadn’t gotten the hang of the language spoken by Deeps lifers— the language he’d decided to call Patchwork.

He was fluent in many languages. Proficient in a few others. Mace Windu could often be dropped anywhere and find a way to communicate. Patchwork? Patchwork seemed to incorporate every language in the galaxy with no rules. The only thing Mace Windu detested more than being sweaty was being unable to communicate.

Occasionally someone would try to negotiate price only to be met with Mace’s stony stare. Those who continued to attempt received a low, firm no along with the stare. Meanwhile, Danica focused on her own work making repairs, taking contract jobs, and occasionally handing tiny automaton toys to giggling children who would scamper away.

After some time, a scrawny Rodian kid trudged up to the stall, head down, and held out the given toys. All of them were broken. Danica took them and threw them in the scrap bin.

“What was that,” Mace asked as he watched the kid shuffle away and deftly pick someone’s pocket.

“Fyyghn said they can’t play if they want the next meal. Same sleemo he’s always been.” She turned back to repairs, head hanging low, shoulders hunched as if she were falling into herself. “I do it every time and it always ends the same way. At least they had fun for a few minutes.”

Mace didn’t need to ask about this Fyyghn person because, like most things, he’d seen it before: dirt level scum compelling orphans and abandoned children into petty crimes in exchange for room and board. Same sleemo he’s always been. He stared at her back, now certain that there had once been a hungry, pale blue girl picking pockets for a place to sleep.

Over these last three months or so in such close quarters, Mace had learned some of her emotional habits and knew that she likely wouldn’t speak again until morning. Until then, she’d be up all night at her workbench, making toys and trinkets. It wasn’t exclusive to market days. Once it was triggered by a lecture she was delivering about the dangers of these levels. Twice after going out, she’d return to the shop like this. Her sunny demeanor was true, but it was clear that darkness and pain had gone into growing it.

The rest of the day went smoothly with only a couple of irritating customers. She remained silent as they packed up and headed back; he trailed just behind as it was clear she didn’t want companionship at the moment. She walked quickly, practically scurrying through the dark, seeking the safety of home.

Someone was following. Danica also knew; the tell-tale sound of one of her fusioncutters igniting, ready to slash and stab. Mace relaxed to feel the atmosphere. Not through The Force; he’d always chosen to use it sparingly. The thick, oily air seemed to change texture. Abruptly, he turned around to meet the business end of a blaster held by an over-confident Iktotchi.

“You have somewhere else to be, my friend.” Mace suggested, allowing the veiled threat to hang between them. “This spot is not safe for you right now.”

“Drop the packs and run,” The thug rasped. “Not in the mood to hurt someone, but willing to, my friend.”

“I am in the mood,” Mace said lowly, slipping the pack off his shoulders to grip one of the straps in his right hand. “Lucky you.”

The pack swung out with stunning speed, momentum enhanced by Mace’s irritation, and slammed into the thug’s side hard enough to knock them on the ground, blaster skittering away. Danica darted over to snatch it up, holding it uncomfortably – and improperly—in both hands.

Mace dropped into a squat and yanked the thug up by one horn, holding their head close.

“You don’t want me to see you again. You don’t want me to hear about you hurting anyone ever,” he said calmly. “Understand, my friend?”

The Iktotchi spat something in Patchwork and laughed. Mace recognized several curses from multiple languages forming a pointless insult of some sort, as if it would shake him. Danica snarled something in return and bludgeoned the thug’s head with the blaster. She went to strike again but pulled back, breathing hard. Hope marred with sadness and hurt and resolve swirled in her eyes. 

She turned and darted into a sliver of a passageway. Mace followed closely, trying not to trip or slip on the uneven steps that twisted, rising and falling with no logical pattern, walls claustrophobically close. He’d explored the main throughways. This was something else entirely. After some time, they emerged from the passageway through another sliver near the shop. Once inside that haven, Danica immediately went to the backroom and began rummaging through the shelves of scrap parts.

“Miss Morrow?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” She looked back over her shoulder, red eyes glistening. “Please respect that.”

“Of course.”

This was the most frantic he’d seen her: she hadn’t even taken off her pack or turned off the lights woven through her braids.

“But, Miss Morrow, you should set aside the pack before you settle in to work. Otherwise you’ll be achy in the morning.”

Danica’s head dropped, light glinting off every reflective surface as her braids fell over her shoulders. For a moment, it almost looked like actual stars shone in this deepest of places. 

“You can sleep on the sofa upstairs. I don’t want to keep you up again.” She yanked some scraps and ancient gears from the shelf, back still to him. “Thank you for. . . I don’t know. Thank you.”

Mace was a little shocked. All this time, he’d slept on the too small cot in her workshop and had been grateful for it. This was the first time she’d been willing to allow him in her home.

Danica retreated to the safety of her workbench. Mace went upstairs to find a cramped, one bedroom flat with a cushioned sofa smaller than the cot downstairs. He didn’t turn on lights or poke around, intent on honoring her boundaries. He did his best to settle on the sofa, head resting on one end and knees draped over the other. Comparatively, the floor looked inviting, but she’d offered this, and he wouldn’t go beyond that offer.

Stars, his back was going to ache in the morning.

*

As expected, Mace woke to an aching everything.

He also woke to the sound of a dehydrated meal bubbling up followed by metal scraping against metal and Danica muttering in Patchwork. She scraped the meal from the pan into two bowls. Mace unfolded himself, creaking and cracking, into a sitting position and she settled into the disagreeable sofa, offering him a bowl.

“What did you build?” he asked.

“A couple little speeders,” she shrugged.

They fell silent again. Despite the constant dim, Mace had begun to feel the change between day and night in The Deeps and knew that it was well past time for opening the shop. Yet, she sat there staring ahead, hand fidgeting in one of her pockets.

“I’ve been carrying these around since I found them,” she finally said, slipping a few of the trading cards out of one of her many pants pockets, fanning them out. Skywalker, Kenobi, and himself. “It’s stupid, but I like looking at them.”

A drawing of Skywalker back-to-back with Ahsoka. A repeating image of Master Kenobi reproduced from a newsholo of one battle or another. What struck him about this image was that Obi-Wan looked angry as he savagely attacked something just off the edge of the card. He’d seen many trading cards featuring his fellow council member in these last several weeks, most of which portrayed him in idealized heroics or serenity. However, this card seemed the truest image of his friend.

Mace took out the trading card that lived in his pocket, left forefinger tracing across the Marks of Illumination. Had she survived? Had Caleb? He didn’t dare reach through The Force to try to find out or find anyone even though he so deeply wanted the comfort of knowing. Knowing that he could find someone who could say I was padawan to this master who was padawan to . . . and he would know a line had lived on. Would know someone who’d lived other than himself and Anakin Skywalker.

“Was she a friend?” Danica’s voice was quiet, but her held back tears were loud.

He searched himself. Every day, even as a crechling, Mace Windu woke and chose to be a Jedi. No one was born a Jedi. It was a choice to be made after training and trials and every day after. Even now, Mace chose to be a Jedi every morning. Being a perfect Jedi was another task entirely though and always had been. Master Windu had trained multiple padawans and had released all of them into the galaxy with faith that they would also choose to be Jedi every morning.

Mace Windu had failed as a Jedi many times. Gazing at the trading card, he faced his greatest failure: attachment. Even when she had become a council member and fearsome warrior, Mace occasionally still saw the little girl he’d rescued from pirates and had kept watch over for the rest of her life. He still could not let go.

“Depa Billaba.” He passed the card to Danica, his dark brown fingers lacing into her pale blue ones, unwilling to fully release the card. “My last pada—"

Padawan. Master. The words were too small.

“Depa is my daughter. If it’s alright, I’d like to tell you about her.”

-----------------

A note on the layout of The Coruscant Deeps: I imagine it kind of like Comuna 13 in Medellin, but without the graffiti tours. Like some pretty large walkways and throughways, but beyond that in the cracks are the twisty, narrow footpaths with uneven stairs where people actually live and where an outsider can easily get extremely lost really quick.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

@imarvelatthestars

#mace windu #mace windu x oc #oc danica morrow #star wars oc #star wars fanfic #star wars fic #mace windu fic #mace windu fanfic #other people's beautiful writing #fic reading #reading list