#jessemaul

[aces-to-apples]

Which is gayer? Actually being gay or whatever the hell these two had going on?

[cabezadeperro]

Ship Ask Game (because iyam Boo Boo Le Fou): JesseMaul?

lmao apples

What made you ship it?

YOU ❤️

What are your favorite things about the ship?

i just think they're neat!!!! i like jesse's perfect mix of righteous, ruthless and pragmatic and how it works along maul's weirdness. it's all about finding companionship in the last place you'd think to look after the world ends, and i find the conflict that derives from the way they meet (lol) very tasty

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

uhh i don't think so? my gripes with this ship have more to do with fanon characterisation of both characters i think, not enough people write stuff or actively ship it for me to have actual unpopular opinions lol

[aces-to-apples]

*deep inhale* in this economy, why are you LITERALLY trying to kill me?!

Ridiculous part of my brain that woke up and won’t go back to sleep yet: – it’s just that even if you’re doing a Coffee Shop au, while you want the ACTUAL bits of food service to happen there’s a lot of boring shit you don’t need to cover. Like the health inspector. You don’t need to write a scene with a health inspector.

Incorrigible part of my brain hardwired to be the younger sibling that Will Cause Problems On Purpose: Unless it’s funny.

woke up and won’t go back to sleep yet: Pfft. What, is this a romance AU too?

Will Cause Problems On Purpose: Sure! Speedrun enemies to lovers, one member of the pair’s the health inspector and the other works at a place they hate.

Common sense: I cannot imagine any circumstances in which a health inspector would find ANYONE working at a nasty, sus location to be interesting. I may be ace, but NO ONE is that hot.

Will Cause Problems On Purpose: Jesse/Maul. Maul has to live on premises because Palpatine, hates working there, but Jesse is Pretty.

Common sense: …. @aces-to-apples will physically manifest through the screen to murder us DEAD, and I cannot blame them.

Will Cause Problems On Purpose: Yeah, but it’d be funny for at least a good thirty seconds.

woke up and won’t go back to sleep yet: ….MAYBE, but let’s just put it on the tumbls and make it someone else’s problem.

[disdainfreely]

I come bearing JesseMaul Post-Order 66 enemies to lovers slowburn.

[blackkatmagic]

Ok, but in Hawks verse, Mail spikes his hair, so it looks like little horns all over his head. Horns that match placement of his zabrak horns. 😈

“You know this is the less flammable one, right?” Jesse asks, even as he scans the can of hair spray.

The boy in front of his register, just about his age but wearing about twice as many chains on his person as Jesse privately thinks is necessary, gives him a scathing look and slaps a bill down on the counter.

“It’s for hair,” he says, like Jesse is an idiot for even assuming there might be another reason he’s buying it. It’s his voice that catches Jesse's attention, though, soft and dark, and Jesse very determinedly doesn’t have a reaction as he bags the water bottle, sandwich, hairspray, and candy bar and takes the money.

“Well, yeah,” Jesse says, and checks the total. Frowns, and then checks it again. “But that’s not why most people buy it.”

Golden eyes narrow, and the boy looks from Jesse to the bag on the counter. “Is there a problem?” he asks pointedly.

“You're five bucks short,” Jesse says, and pretends very hard that he doesn’t see the boy’s expression twist with something between rage and shame, how he doesn’t even try to reach for the wallet that Jesse saw was otherwise empty. But—

He was going to get one of Charger’s sandwiches for lunch, and he already paid Rex for it, so if he just…skips, that’ll cover it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jesse says, and very deliberately tucks the receipt into the pocket of his apron. “I've got it covered.”

Instantly, the boy bristles. “I don’t want your charity,” he says dangerously, leaning across the counter like he’s going to grab Jesse and deck him.

Jesse just scoffs, because this guy is tall and whipcord lean and muscular, but he’s got nothing on Kix when he’s coming out of an exam binge. “Great,” he says. “Good for you. Just take the damn bag and get out of my line, I'm on the clock.”

The boy glances behind himself automatically, taking in the tall, hooded figure who’s waiting back by the stand of trail mix. With a hiss of aggravation, he grabs the bag, turns on his heel, and stalks out of the general store.

“You're welcome!” Jesse calls after him, but the only response he gets is an aggressive jangle of the bells over the door as it slams shut.

Quietly, Rex's big boyfriend approaches the counter, setting his pile of granola bars down on it beside a bottle of water. “Are you all right?” he asks, and a flicker of pale eyes between Jesse and the door makes Jesse smile.

“I'm fine,” he tells Jon, and then, “Rex said he told you to at least get a sandwich if you're going hiking.”

“I'm fine—” Jon starts.

“There had better not only be granola bars on that counter!” Rex calls from the stockroom, and Jesse hides his grin as Jon winces.

“One sandwich?” he asks, smirking.

Jon pauses, flicking a glance at the still-swaying bells above the door and then at him. “Make it two,” he says softly. “Which is your favorite?”

Jesse swallows, and—having a vague crush on his brother’s boyfriend is the most predictable, ridiculous teenage thing in a lifetime that hasn’t been anything like ordinary, but Jesse doesn’t know that he would have skipped it. It’s nice. Just—as long as no one else ever finds out. Including Rex. Particularly Rex.

“Turkey,” he says, and Jon gives him a small smile and inclines his head.

“Two turkey, then,” he agrees, and Jesse rings him up, the boy and his voice and his golden eyes almost completely out of mind.

  Jesse is halfway through a mind-numbing shift that makes his grandfather’s assigned essay on ancient Mandalorian clan migrations look fascinating in comparison—which is the only reason he’s halfway through it when Jaster doesn’t want it until next Monday—when the bell over the door chimes. He’s in the middle of wrestling with a sentence, but no one immediately calls for his help, so he keeps writing, listening for the footsteps that will undoubtedly retreat into the shelves.

But they don’t. instead, there's a long pause, and then they approach the counter.

“You,” a very familiar voice says, low, dark, and something prickles down Jesse's spine as he jerks his head up to see the boy from the other day standing on the other side of the counter. Golden eyes lock with his, then narrow, and the boy says almost accusingly, “You are the one from the other day.”

“It’s not like anyone else works weekday afternoons in here,” Jesse says, rolling his eyes. Looks him over, and then says, “Hey, I guess you really did use it for your hair.”

“Of course I did,” the boy says sharply, and puts a hand up to touch the spikes his hair has carefully been styled into. They're kind of cute. Jesse doesn’t really have a type, but—thig guy isn't not his type. Even if he is wearing a lot of black.

Jesse just shrugs. “My brothers in the fire department are grateful. You’d be surprised how many people come out here to start fires.”

The boy pauses, weighing this, and then says abruptly, “I am Maul.” And then, like it physically pains him to get the words out, “Thank you.”

Whatever effect that gratitude might have is promptly ruined by the face he pulls.

Jesse stares at him for a moment, then bursts out laughing. He leans back in his chair, snickering, and says, “Now we both just feel awkward. Did someone put you up to saying that?”

Maul scowls at him. “Of course not,” he retorts, and drops a ten on top of Jesse's laptop. “For your troubles.”

“If it was trouble I wouldn’t have done it,” Jesse says, and pushes the bill back. “My family owns the store. It’s fine.”

Maul glares like he’s about to protest, and he very pointedly doesn’t retrieve the money. Before he can say anything, though, Jesse raises his hands in surrender. “Look, I'm on my lunch break in like ten minutes, if you want to pay me back, just buy me lunch or something.”

For a long moment, Maul stares at him with narrowed eyes. “And take you somewhere romantic to eat it, I suppose,” he scoffs.

Jesse gives him a smirk. “If you want to go that far I'm going to need more than a sandwich,” he retorts, and Maul looks away with a disgusted huff.

He does buy Jesse a sandwich, though. And he even throws in a bag of chips when Jesse offers to buy their sodas, so apparently he’s not quite as angry as he looks.

The spiked hair is still cute, but Jesse gets a feeling saying that won't be welcome, so he keeps his mouth shut.

[On AO3]

[bookshopangel]

Dark Side Jesse? Dark Side Jesse! I may be a little obsessed with @aces-to-apples‘s King of the Damned JesseMaul fic. Started this as a decompress-after-work sketch and ended up having a lot of fun playing with lighting. :)

[inkformyblood]

Barrel + Jesse x Maul

Jesse stumbled slightly as he left the party — his skin flushed from the press of bodies against his, the taste of fruit and sugar, straight from the barrel in the illegal barracks still, lying heavy on his tongue — and ran straight into Maul’s chest. 

Before the Zabrak could draw away from him, guilt lying heavy on his shoulders and still uncomfortable in the new dark Jedi robes, Jesse wrapped his arms around his waist, smiling loosely up at him. 

“Going to run from me again?” Jesse murmured, rising up on his toes to press his forehead to Maul’s, watching the flicker of love-concern-worry flash through his eyes before Maul carefully leaned into the embrace, as if worried that Jesse would shatter beneath his touch.

[kazhan]

“was supposed to be a one-shot” 

but also........

thanks Apples? Thanks Apples. eufhzuiehgu

okay I’ll behave and only ask for ‘guess this is a whole-ass AU now FMLˋ for now uzbduduzhcuishc

dsl;kgjelrj that WAS supposed to be the Jesse/Maul one-shot for Apples, but it has. grown. orz now it’s going to be an entire AU series about the cultural restoration of a newly reclaimed Mandalorian Empire, with Jango as Mand’alor and the vode as his army. dammit Apples.

[aces-to-apples]

I've been fiddling with the same 1000 words for three goddamn years, yeet!!

"karbakar"🔒

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Relationship: CT-5597 | Jesse/Darth Maul Characters: CT-5597 | JesseDarth Maul Additional Tags: Past CT-5597 | Jesse/CT-6116 | Kix - Freeform, CT-5597 | Jesse Lives, GFY, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Order 66 (Star Wars), Mind Rape, Mind Control, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Trauma, Force Bond (Star Wars), That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), The Dark-namic Duo, Clone Troopers Speak Mando'a (Star Wars) Words: 1,342 Chapters: 1/3 Series: Part 3 of king of the damned

In the last forty-eight hours, Jesse has participated in the hostile takeover of Mandalore, been kidnapped and tortured by a ex-Sith Lord, and had his entire sense of personhood and agency destroyed. He's been rescued by the same ex-Sith Lord, and escaped from a Venator filled with puppeted vode. The galaxy burns around them. Everything will be fine.

[cabezadeperro]

47. Brainwashed/Tricked into becoming an Enemy, I would like some Kix feels, if possible. Jessix, oh, oh, oh, Maul/Kix? Or MaulJessix? (I am not picky, your words are pretty and make me feel things. In a not creepy way? I'm gonna stop talking now)

mauljessix because i am not a coward

Kix wakes up alone. He sits up on the bed and rubs at his face and his eyes. The cabin is dark and cold, and the door hangs open. He can hear the humming of the hyperengines, and when he places his bare feet on the cold durasteel floor he can feel it as well.

He looks at the chrono. He’s been asleep for two hours: his bones feel heavy and hollow, all at once. Kix yawns and hears his jaw click. His eyes hurt, and so does his head.

Kix touches the pillow: he can see the indents of Maul’s horns on the fabric, but it’s cold. He must have waited for him to fall asleep without--leaving. He frowns down at it in the dark.

It might be nothing. Maul is--Maul is unpredictable, mean and earnest and prideful and thoughtlessly devoted at turns. By now, Kix has learned to go with the flow, to a point. Sometimes it’s just better to let him sulk and brood and rage at the black in peace.

Kix sighs. He really is very tired. He stands up and crosses the cabin, doesn’t grab a shirt, and pads towards the cockpit.

Maul is sitting in the pilot’s chair, elbows on the arms of the seat, sharp chin over his clasped hands. He stares blindly at the blue and white lights of hypertravel. The lights are reflected on his black tattoos and make his yellow eyes seem almost silver. When Kix steps into the cockpit he tilts his head and keeps quiet; Kix frowns and watches him for a beat.

He doesn’t look tense, just--tired. Sad. He’s often sad, Maul, former Sith apprentice of Darth Sidious. He doesn’t quite seem to realise he is, but Kix has eyes and he has been spending quite a lot of time with Maul lately.

“Medic,” Maul rasps. “It is late. You should be in bed.”

Kix doesn’t come closer to him. He crosses his arms and leans against the open door to the cockpit.

“So should you,” he points out, voice calm. Maul scowls. Kix watches him: his profile is all sharp, sudden angles. He’s beautiful in the way a sharp knife or a Trandoshan rifle are beautiful.

He is very much Jesse’s type--but so is Kix.

Kix sighs and crosses the cockpit, places one careful hand on the back of Maul’s seat. Maul doesn’t move, but his eyes glance up at Kix, watchful. Kix tilts his head at him; Maul just waits, quiet and still and there, present and solid.

“I saw the lieutenant,” Maul says, voice low. Kix watches him.

“Oh?” he replies. He opens his mouth and closes it again without saying anything.

“He is alive. He is not well, but he is whole and alive and.” Maul’s mouth clicks. He leans back against the seat, rubs his chin with one hand. One of his horns touches Kix’s fingers, but he doesn’t move away.

Kix blinks. He turns back to the lights.

“Well. That’s--that’s something,” he says. He’s trying to sound optimistic. Light. There is nothing they can do about it right now, and Kix knows it.

He fails.

Maul’s horns bump against his hand again. Kix lets his fingers drop from the edge of the seat and caresses the smooth skin between them. Maul keeps very still and doesn’t look at him.

For a while, they just--miss him together. Jesse and his recklessness and his loud laugh and his sharp eyes.

Kix tugs at Maul’s horns.

“Please come back to bed,” he says. Maul exhales, annoyed, but when Kix leaves the cockpit he follows him back to their berth. To the berth he shared with Jesse before the Empire stole Jesse from him and he now shares with Kix.

The berth they will share with Jesse, soon, soon, when they find him. They will: Kix knows it’s just a matter of time. They will find him and they will steal him back.

Kix curls up on the narrow bed, lets Maul arrange the pillow and the other pillow and the blanket and his legs to his liking, and then pulls him closer and lets sleep take him.

[blackkatmagic]

Hawks verse perhaps, Savage/Waxer, picnicking in the park with Maul stalking following Jesse, and Feral teaming up with Numa to give Boil grey hair

Softer feels! As my penance for inflicting feels on you so early. 

little birds are tasting gratitude and gold

[firewoodwander]

🥺🥺 thank you friend!! (It is I, Lena)

Okay okay we have some cute lil ships for my fellow clowns!!

Jesse/maul for @aces-to-apples

Cody/mace for Percy I don’t know ur tumblr

Spar/Mij for pax I also don’t know ur tumblr

Tup/dogma for Lena u guessed it I don’t know ur tumblr

Kenfetti for @jasondont

Lando/fordo for @kazhan-draws

[bookshopangel]

My last donation commission AND my first NSFW drawing.
Commissioner requested Jesse/Maul because we’re Cursed. I had a lot of fun drawing that ARC Trooper Cake. 👅

[shukruut]

Lol if we're dropping problematic ships: Jessemaul, Hardcount (Hardcase/Dooku), Maulakin, Dogmakin, Maulezra, and Anasoka

you take the prize for mentioning more maulships

[aces-to-apples]

Ship bingo hello! I'm going with DJARNAKIN and jessemaul!

Omg!

I got a bingo!

And then my boys!

I got four bingos!

[cabezadeperro]

If you're still taking prompts (👀) can I interest you in JesseMaul for 23. things you said [with a knife at my throat]???

things you said [with a knife at my throat]

(warning: jesse’s been drugged with something and not in the fun way)

“Jesse,” Maul says. “Lieutenant.”

Jesse doesn’t move. His hand twitches, and the sharp edge of the vibroknife nicks Maul’s skin. He feels blood trickle down his neck, but he doesn’t wince. Jesse’s pupils are blown, the dark brown drowned by the black. He’s breathing heavily, his mouth partially open. His lips are dry and cracked, and there's some residue of whatever he was dosed with on the corner of his mouth, around his left nostril.

Maul would like to wipe it off. It’d be so easy: he would raise his hand and place his thumb in the corner of his lieutenant’s lips and then it’d be gone. 

But Jesse won’t let him move. He’s crouched over Maul’s prone body, his black thermals damp with sweat and dirty with dust. The hot noon sun beats down on them, and Maul’s prosthetics are starting to bother him, the hard-packed earth harsh against the atrophied muscles of his lower back. 

Maul reaches out to him: Jesse’s mind is a mess. He’s terrified, and he can’t seem to decide whether Maul’s one of the things he should be scared of. 

That’s worrying. His lieutenant should know perfectly well all the monstrous things Maul’s capable of. 

“Jesse,” Maul says again. His lieutenant’s name feels strange in Maul’s mouth. He feels as if he were doing something forbidden just by letting his tongue curl around its syllables.

“No,” Jesse says. Maul freezes: it’s the first thing he’s said in hours. 

“Jesse?” Maul slowly raises his hand. Jesse twitches and the knife cuts deeper, but he lets Maul place a hand on his jaw. Maul carefully wipes away the powdery residue from his mouth. “Lieutenant, everything’s--” 

“Don’t move,” the lieutenant says. Maul lets his mouth close with a click and sniffs, annoyed. “Don’t go.”

There are many things Maul could say in answer to that: that he couldn’t go anywhere if he wanted to, what with the knife against his throat and Jesse’s comforting weight over his hips; that he doesn’t want to. 

He finishes wiping Jesse’s face instead, something that might be glee mixed with disbelief unfurling like a flower inside his mind.