#maceponds

[vander-thehound]

ART !..!.!!.!.

[yruzadnal]

It's late and Mace receives a visit.

[blackkatmagic]

5 or 61 for mace/ponds?

There's a buzzing in Ponds’s head, something vast and numbing and full of a dark sort of rage, and he takes three long steps and puts himself squarely in front of his general.

“Don’t even think about it,” he says, perfectly steady.

Jango pauses, just slightly, and his gaze slides from Mace on the ground to Ponds and back, and Ponds doesn’t have to know mulishness on his own face to see it settle into every line of Jango's expression.

“I'm your Mand'alor,” he says flatly. “Move.”

“You're our Original,” Ponds says, and his heart is beating so hard he can hardly think, but—he knows what he’s doing. Mace is on the ground, and Depa is hurt, and Caleb is unconscious. Ponds has spent twenty years trying to become Jango's heir, he’s almost there, but—

Not for this. Not at this cost. Jango's his Mand'alor, his creator, almost his father, but some things are more important.

“The Jedi are our enemies,” Jango says, and it’s a warning. That’s more than he gives most people, and Ponds knows it. “If you’ve been harboring an enemy, you won't be the only one punished for it.”

Ponds knows that, too. But he knows Razor and Stak and all the others in Lightning Squadron, too, knows just how much all of them love Mace at this point. He’s been with them for two months, and every single day has been enough to drive the thorns in a little deeper.

The clones were made to conquer the Republic and end the Jedi, but Ponds can't. He knows his men can't, either.

And then, soft, there's a breath. “Ponds,” Mace says, rising to his feet, and Ponds can hear the faint heaviness in his movements that wasn’t there before, the way he’s favoring his right side. Jango hit him. Jango hit him because Mace was trying to protect his daughter, his former padawan, and Jango used them as bait.

Honorable mercenaries, that’s what Mandalorians are supposed to be. Ponds wonders if anyone told Jango that.

“No,” Ponds says, steady, stubborn, and holds Jango's dark gaze. Wonders, too, if anyone ever told him that he was supposed to be a father to them, and not just a ruler. Wonders, if he would have cared if someone had, or if he’d just have set all of the command class against each other anyway, waiting to see who would be his heir.

“Ponds,” Jango says, and that’s a warning, too.

“If you go anywhere near them,” Ponds says quietly, “you’ll have to deal with me.”

“Ponds,” Mace says, and a hand touches his side, light, half an instant before Mace sets his shoulder to Ponds’s and joins him, braced and ready as he watches Jango. “Not alone.”

Ponds almost laughs. He definitely smiles. When he reaches down, wraps his hand around Mace's and squeezes tight, it feels like a declaration.

[icouldntfinditsoiwroteit]

Yandere clone and his Jedi

"Ponds,"

"Yes, Cyare?"

"Could we go for a walk?" Mace asked.

"Of course, where to?" Ponds gave a peck on the cheek as he helped his cyare stand up.

"The blue gardens," It was Mace's favorite place to go.

They walked calmly towards the gardens with Mace using Ponds as support, even in his weak state Ponds couldn't help but gaze at his love, he was truly blessed to have been assigned since the start to Mace, he knew that the rest of his men thought the same.

After all Mace had always gone back for every single one of them, he would put his life in danger just for them, they all adored him but not everyone thought the same, the clones knew that not all the galaxy was fond of the Jedi but when the Senate used their power over the Jedi order to trial Tano, that is when they all snapped, they would not let anyone hurt their Jedi.

"Ponds, are you alright?" Mace's question pulled him out of his train of thought.

"Yes, I just got distracted," Ponds smiled reassuringly, he wouldn't let such memories ruin his time with Mace.

"Will anyone else come?"

"No, today is my day with you," Ponds loves his brothers, they all love Mace and Mace is theirs but sometimes they need alone time so they all have one day to themselves to enjoy Mace, their Cyare.

They reached their usual place in the grass in the garden and started to relax in a silence that Ponds wasn't as fond of, he really wishes that they can soon let Mace out of the drugs, he misses the long chats they would have but Mace had been the hardest to put under the first time he couldn't risk him like that.

*It's for his own good,* Ponds thought as he let Mace rest in his shoulder, already tired from their small walk.

It had been almost an hour until Mace spoke again.

"Ponds,"

"Cyare?"

"I'm thirsty," Mace absently informed, the only good thing from having him drugged was that he was more honest,

"I'll go get you some juice, do you want something to eat?" Ponds asked.

"Cake?" Mace sweet tooth also became more evident.

"Just a small piece, vanilla?" Ponds gently helped Mace to one of the arm chairs in the garden.

Mace only nodded clearly still tired, Ponds left the garden to retrieve what Mace had asked for, it didn't take him long to reach the main kitchen.

"Ponds?" Chopper greeted.

"I'm here for some water and vanilla cake, do we still have some?"

"Yup, we still have some, is it for your Jedi?" Chopper asked while retrieving the cake.

"Yeah, he's been having a lot of cravings lately," Ponds explained while he retrieved the water.

"Other Jedi have been the same,"

"Really?" Ponds asked.

"Yup, I think it may have something to do with the drugs," Chopper whispered the last part.

"Are the medics aware?" Copper nodded.

"Then I guess we can only wait," Ponds furrowed his eyebrows.

"Don't worry if it was anything dangerous the-" Chopper was interrupted by their coms beeping.

It beeped red two times and one time yellow.

"Runaway Padawans," They said out loud.

Ponds left one second later to the garden where he had left Mace, even if it was only some Padawans they could be just as resourceful as any adult Jedi and the tracker said that Mace was still where he left him but that wouldn't bring him any peace until he saw Mace again.

He knew that Mace was in one of the safest places in the Temple but when he saw a knocked out brother his blood ran cold.

He ran faster than he had in his life, when he reached the garden there where more knocked out brothers on the floor.

*No, please not him,* Ponds prayed as he reached the arm chair where instead of Mace he found the trackers.

[yruzadnal]

That's commander Ponds.

i just think mace windu should be romanced. somebody should fall ass over teakettle for him. he deserves it.

[barissoffee]

Hear me out

[artcupcakes]

Au where Ponds lives, but through a set of increasingly ridiculous circumstances he’s not able to reach the republic till order 66 where he helps Mace recover from falling out of a window. He even built the general an arm! How you may ask?

Easy, the blaster bolt to the head missed his brain, barely but through the “Force” it was able to cause enough trauma to deactivate the chip(It also cause a scar on the back of his head). He learned how to build prosthetic as a way of funding his mission to get back to his general.

He had to sell and mod his armor but that’s okay! They are now on the run, but with plans to help back the rebellion. 

But first Ponds and Mace plans raid Kamino and pull off the biggest height stealing all of the clones there!

[generallynerdy]

New chapter is up! Ponds, Mace, Boba, Depa, Grey, and Caleb have joined the chat :) (Ponds/Mace & Depa/Grey are featured in this, and Grey uses they/them pronouns because I’m non-binary and I say so)

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

[minniethemoocherda]

The Best Day of his Life

ao3

ff.net

Summery: Commander Ponds attempts to comfort his General as they watch over the comatose form of his former Padawan.

Commander Ponds treaded quietly towards his general. Mace Windu showed no signs that he had heard the soldier, his dark eyes never leaving the floating form of a woman in the bacta tank in front of him. Ponds knew that the Grand Master was aware of his presence none the less, as he would have with any of the clones.

Ponds knew that some of his brothers from other battalions misjudged the Jedi's stoicism for a lack of a heart. But that could not be further from the truth. Mace Windu was the most loyal of any Jedi. The respect and care for his men was shown countlessly through his words and actions if not always his expression. Even now as the man stared at the lifeless figure of his former padawan, his face was lacked any expression of emotion. But Ponds hade been by his general's side long enough to now see the anger and pain that erupted just beneath the surface, threatening the breakthrough a lifetime of having it been drilled into you to never to show attachment.

Ponds turned his attention to the woman in the tank, Depa Billaba. Her brown skin was unnaturally pale, and her limbs had lost all their muscle, leaving them to float like rags in the bacta. Whilst the temple doctors reassured them that physically she would eventually recover there was no certainty about what state her mind would be in when she finally came out of her coma. She had been in this state for months now, and whenever they were stationed back on Coruscant, Mace would spend every waking moment with her.

The first time they met, Ponds new that he and Depa would get along. Thankfully, due to the man always sticking the plan and didn't run off into needless danger, Ponds didn't have to worry about his general to the degree that some of his brothers did (he did not pity Cody or Rex in the slightest). But no matter, he was always going to worry. Something that both he and Depa did. He liked the young woman instantly. He could tell that she had inherited Mace's seriousness, but also his sassiness. Anytime she joined them on a mission it looked like part of the weight on Mace's shoulders was momentarily lifted. Ponds would have liked her for that alone. Her unwavering courage and kindness were a bonus.

He glanced back at Mace whose face hadn't changed. Ponds wasn't even sure if he'd breathed. He wanted to tell his general that it was okay. It was just them. If he needed to cry or scream, he would be there as a pillar or a pillow, just like he had for him. Like they had both been to their men.

But he couldn't, not when his words would verge on the forbidden rule of attachment. If there was one thing that everyone was right about Mace, it was that he was a stickler to the rules. Not that he would trust the words that would tumble out of his mouth anyways, secrets and desires that Ponds had buried so deep that hopefully even a Jedi wouldn't be able to sense them.

So instead he held out his hand that was still swollen from their last battle and placed it on Mace's shoulder. Nothing he hadn't done before as they peered at the same small holo-maps or to steady the other during battle. He was just supporting his general like he had done countless times before. Ponds wasn't sure how he expected Mace to react. Most likely to have no reaction at all. At most maybe a nod of gratitude. It certainly wasn't for the Jedi to reach across his body to cover his hand with his own. Ponds knew there was no way he could hide the heightened pulse or the blush threatening to take over his whole face as it spread from his cheeks. He could practically feel the inevitable smirk from the General. But no smirk ever came. Instead the other man finally teared his eyes away from the tank. They were full of tears.

Ponds had never seen Mace cry. He doubted anyone had ever seen Mace cry. Maybe his own Master had once upon a time, but she was long dead now so he would never get the chance to ask. Ponds didn't hesitate to move his hand from the man' shoulder so that he could wrap it around his back, pulling him into a hug. Mace didn't resist, leaning against him, one arm still across his body, like je wasn't sure what to do with them. Ponds wondered how long it had been since the Grand Master had been hugged.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that. Long enough for Mace's eyes to run dry. Ponds missed the feeling of their bodied pressed together as soon as they broke apart. They stared into each other's eyes. Searching for an answer for what to do next. Finally, that smirk appeared on Mace's lips. Ponds rolled his eyes. Guessing the cat was finally out of the bag, he stopped trying to suppress the feelings, for the first time letting them rise to the surface. Now it was Mace's turn to blush. Add that to the list of things Ponds never thought he would see. He might not have the force, but he could tell by the crinkle in the corner of the man's left eye, that he had been experiencing the exact same thoughts that he had but had finally decided to let them free.

Ponds lifted a finger to gently brush away the tear stains under those eyes, when sirens exploded around them. For a moment he panicked. There was now way they could have been found out so quickly! A second later he realised that the noise had come from the monitors on the bacta tank. The pair immediately checked the vitals. Ponds let out a sigh of relief when they showed that Depa was stable. In fact, she was more than stable, she had come out her coma, meaning she needed to be taken out of the tank now! Mace smashed the button, draining the tank. Before the liquid had fully gone, he opened her tube, catching his padawan before she could fall.

"Master?" Depa breathed as her eyes fluttered open. For the second time that day Ponds saw Mace's eyes fill with tears.

"I've commed the head doctor. She'll be down momentarily." Ponds told them. He turned to leave not wanting to invade their privacy, when he felt a palm clasp itself in his. He glanced down. Although one arm was still cradling his padawan, the other was tightly held in his, a silent plea to stay. Ponds would never refuse his general. So, the pair held tight until the doctors arrived. Ponds new that the path ahead would be changed forever, but this was still without a doubt the best day of his life.

[yruzadnal]

the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way

[blackkatmagic]

I'm in love with your initial idea of Ponds seeing Mace transform and needing to go hyperventilate for a while. Can you imagine him calling the other commanders and captains trying to report that??

They're supposed to be spacer tales.

Ponds has heard plenty of them, of course; all the clones have. As soon as Jedi are mentioned, everyone seems to have a story, a firsthand account of mother’s boyfriend’s grandfather’s best friend who saw a Jedi do something incredible once upon a time, a story they're obliged to share as soon as they realize there's a Jedi nearby. Ponds has been told about Jedi turning into stars, or animals, or moving planets. He’s heard about Jedi who can speak to plants and Jedi who grow out of plants, Jedi who can grow wings or walk through space or shift continents.

There aren’t a lot of Jedi, after all, especially considering the size of the galaxy, and the vast majority of the Republic’s population has never seen one. At first it was aggravating, all the tall tales and misinformation, the belief that the Jedi were something beyond the scope of most beings, capable of miracles, and therefore at fault when things went wrong. Now, though, it’s mostly just amusing, and Ponds will admit he’s tucked a few of the more far-fetched tales away to share with the other commanders next time they meet up. There are variations on every planet, and lots of repeated tales, but—

The one that always comes back is dragons.

It’s the one Ponds would definitely share if it weren’t common enough that likely ever trooper has at least heard mention of it at this point. Jedi as dragons, and old spacefarers muttering about vast beasts with claws and teeth fit to rend, and—well. It’s all ridiculous. Ponds had practically laughed in the face of the first long-distance hauler to tell him about it, and it brought him to snickers just yesterday, imagining his general—Mace kriffing Windu, Master of the Order, general without peer, Jedi of greatest renown, champion of the whole Order—as some big scaly lizard thing out of myth.

Ponds isn't laughing now.

The tanks that had Lightning Squadron trapped and pinned down are flaming chunks of rubble, scattered across the battlefield. There's a swath of droid parts, some melting in the winter sun, carpeting the ground, and the cannons that were about to put a very abrupt end to their advancement—likely permanently—are twisted and bent, clutched in long black claws.

At the very least, Ponds tells himself, a bubble of hysterical laughter rising in his chest. At the very least, he can't call Mace a big scaly lizard, because that’s a kriffing dragon.

With a growl that rumbles like thunder and practically shakes the battlefield, Ponds’s general, who just turned himself into a beast the size of a small cruiser, drops to the ground, dumping the pieces of the cannons aside with clear distaste. There are no scales, just dark, leathery hide, black down his back and sides and pale purple down his long neck and beneath his wide wings. His eyes are purple too, burning, and they settle on Ponds without hesitation. His head dips, and—

“Casualty report, Commander,” Mace says. Mace says. The dragon that is Mace says.

Ponds can't even begin to formulate a response. Or use words.

A hand catches his elbow, gently tugging him back, and Razor slips past him, pushing him into Stak's grip. “Sorry, General, I think you broke him,” Razor says with good humor, stepping right up in front of the dragon. Mace. Mace the dragon.

Ponds maybe needs to go sit down for a minute and focus on not hyperventilating.

Mace cocks his head, and—it’s the same motion as Mace raising a brow, only dragons don’t have brows, so he can't do it the way Ponds is used to. That’s definitely judgment, though, faintly amused and entirely tolerant, and Mace snorts.

“Of all the things I thought would rattle you, Commander,” he says dryly, “this isn't the one.”

“It’s a spacer tale,” Ponds finally manages, a little too loud. “Like—like plants turning into Jedi—”

“There are Neti Jedi,” Mace says, and the humor in his face isn't something Ponds should be able to read but he can.

“You're a dragon,” Ponds says, and that’s. That’s definitely a little hysterical.

“I'm a Jedi,” Mace counters, and lowers his head even further, sinuous neck bending, wings sweeping out and down. “They're largely interchangeable.”

“Yes, sir,” Ponds says faintly, and sits down a little harder than he intends to, pulling his helmet off. He doesn’t quite put his head between his knees, but—the thought is definitely there.

There's a quiet huff from above him—far above him—and Mace shifts back a step. “Casualties?”

“One injured, sir, but Brass is with him,” Razor reports. “You got to us in time.”

He did. He dropped out of the kriffing sky, a small body plummeting down, and Ponds had seen him falling, had thought—had been terrified—

And then he was a dragon, between one second and the next, and he landed on the tanks, and Lightning Squadron very abruptly wasn’t the Seps’ biggest concern. They probably didn’t even rank tenth or twelfth on the list, after Mace started breathing plasma.

Purple plasma. Just like his lightsaber. Somehow, that thought feels hilarious right now for reasons that Ponds can't figure, but which probably start and end with shock. Brass would know. Brass always knows.

“Commander?” that familiar voice asks, a thread of true concern in it, and Ponds breathes in, breathes out, and lifts his head.

“Sorry, sir,” he says, and makes a valiant attempt at not letting his eyes cross as he looks up at the giant dragon looming above him. Mace is—Mace is a handsome dragon. That’s an alright thing to think, right? Ponds can ignore the mouth full of kriffing big teeth if he focuses on the sleek matte shine of Mace's hide, the tall, sharp horns, the row of spines running down his neck. “I thought—I thought they were spacer tales.”

Mace snorts, but he folds his wings, then slowly, deliberately folds down, long tail curling around him like a cat. Making himself less of a threat, trying not to loom, Ponds thinks, and has to close his eyes at the rush of impossible warmth for this ridiculous, amazing man, who’s always so careful with his troopers, with any lives entrusted to him.

Even if he’s a giant lizard who breathes plasma, he’s still Ponds’s general, and Ponds feels that knowledge like a trickle of relief through his chest, a settling of understanding that feels like hysteria easing.

“We don’t hide it,” Mace says. “But changing takes effort, and many calories. I will…likely not be good for much once we get back to the base. At least for another day or two.”

“Sir?” Ponds asks, alarmed, and comes to his feet in an instant, taking a step towards Mace. “If it’s that bad, if changing now would make a difference, we can get you back—”

Mace's head dips, and he nudges the helmet Ponds is holding. Just once, and gently, with a thump of plastoid on hide, but—Ponds can recognize the gesture for what it’s meant to be, and he stops short.

“Easy, Ponds,” Mace says quietly. “I’ll get you and the men back to base first. Waiting that long to change won't do me any harm.”

“If you say so, sir,” Ponds says, already calculating the best way to make Mace stay in bed until he’s fully recovered. Brass will help. Everyone in Lightning Squadron will help. Mace is their general.

Mace's resigned sigh says he knows exactly what Ponds is thinking, but he knows them all well enough that he doesn’t even try to protest.

[On Ao3]

[thatonefanficwriternooneknows]

also…fav ships? Vox obvs but…what else? clonecest is fine w/ me, ship what you ship lol!

Oh gosh…I am a horrible horrible multishipper

I like any ship involved with Fox (minus Palpatine cause not my cup of tea)

I’ve read Fox with Thorn, Padme, Anakin, Obi-wan, Quinlan (ofc), Cody, Wolffe, Rex, the Corrie Commanders, and Mace! But I’m open to others!

For non-Fox ships, I love CodyWan, I used to really be into ObiKin (not so much anymore since my discovery of Fox, my love), Padme/Obi/Ani, MacePonds, BlyLa, Ahsoka/Bariss, PloMace, DinCob, SkyBridger, SkyDin, HanLuke, LeiaHanLuke, DinSkyBridger, FinnPoe, FinnPoeRey, HuxRen…I think that’s all of them?

I’ll try anything once lol

My only notp when it comes to SW is anything involving Ahsoka and people WAY older/younger than her, and fucking KyloRey/BenRey whatever the duck. Hate that shit. Duck the sequel trilogy finale, duck that whole ass movie.

[punsbulletsandpointythings]

*happy sobbing*

i don’t even know what this is but i did it

@aerefyr

mace/ponds (happy ending au)

Keep reading

[the-fp-collective]

queerplatonic codywan and fluitic macepond sooo true

[only-hereforthe-clones]

Hey there! I'm Thorn!

This is mostly reblogs since I'm not much for art, maybe the occasional AU story idea.

I tag almost everything that I reblog (there's a few things that I can't think of a tag for, so they don't have one yet).

Tags will be [rank] [character name] (General Kenobi, Captain Rex), or if it's ship then it will be the ship name (Codywan, Maceponds)

If it's my own post, then the tag will be #thorn roots

If you ship Clonecest, Rexsoka, Anisoka, Maulsoka, or Aniobi, hard DNI, I block on sight

I'm also linking the UnWhiteWash The Bad Batch carrd here. It includes a summary of what the movement is hoping to accomplish, and links to more information. Please read through it.

Thanks for hanging out!

[minniethemoocherda]

Maybe

Ao3

In the chaos it was hard to see Cham amongst the crowd. However, it wasn't hard to spot Master Windu, who's tall dark human features stood out against the sea of Twi'leks.

Gobi made his way through the swarm, careful of his broken arm.

"Cham!" He called out. Cham looked up at the sound of his name, thanking the Jedi before heading over to him.

"Ah Gobi," He replied, a rare smile on his face. It was soft, the corner of his lips causing a small crinkle near his eyes. A smile reserved only for him. Maybe if they weren't in the middle of the war and if it hadn't only been a few months since they lost Tislera, maybe there would be more than softness behind that smile.

"When are we leaving for the capital?" Gobi asked.

That smile turned into a frown.

"We are leaving now. You are staying here."

Gobi's moth dropped. They'd all overheard the broadcast, that the Sepratists had started bombing peaceful villages. If they wanted to prevent more needless bloodshed, then they would have to take back the Capitol now.

"But-"

"You've got a broken arm. If you can't pull a trigger or hold onto a blurrg then you are of no use in this fight."

As much as Gobi hated to admit it, he knew the other man was right. With his arm he would only be a burden. And Cham needed to be blunt with him to see that.

"Come on, you might not be able to fight but you can still help with our strategizing."

Gobi scoffed. "I should hope so. Your plans would be dommed without me."

Cham chuckled as he lead them over to where Master Windu was talking to Hera. Whilst the girl's expression was one of awe and curiosity, the Jedi's was one of strange recognition, not that he knew her but that he knew that one day he would. Gobi shook his head. He'd never understood the Jedi and their force weirdness.

Hera barrelled her way into her father's arms, burying into his neck. It pained Gobi to see his goddaughter a shell of the courageous and happy young girl she used to be. If there was one main driving force behind his desire to win the war, it was to see smile on her face again.

Once they had deviced their plan, Cham sent Hera to the speck in the corner that they called her room, whilst Master Windu went to talk to his Captain, who was giving his general a look that Gobi hoped Cham never saw him give.

"Look after Hera."

He turned back to Cham, his eyes firm.

"You know I will." Fullfilling his promise as a godfather, as a friend and as a good man, that he would continue too if he didn't return.

Cham held his uninjured hand. Gobi blamed his blush on the bustle of people around him in the crampt cave.

"I-" Cham cut himself off. They both knew that he couldn't promise that he would come back, not after Tislera. Or that everything would turn out fine. Nor could he promise to be careful because they knew he was too much of a dumbass to do that either.

"I know." Gobi finished for him, holding his hand tightly in his own.