#@ailtara

[the-goofball]

[calebdumes]

Prompt: Kanan and Hera have an argument.

thanks for the prompt anon! I hope you don't mind, I added a heaping portion of angst to go with this!

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

word count: 1.2k

rating: t

~

“No.” Kanan said, folding his arms over his chest, his chin jutting out defiantly. Hera felt her chest tighten with irritation but bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from responding with something she might regret. She didn’t have to be a Jedi to know how angry Kanan was, she could practically feel it roll off of him in hot, sticky waves that make her skin itch and the tips of her lekku curl inwards. 

The rest of her crew scattered around the lounge seemed unaware of his building fury so she used their blissful ignorance to center herself. There was no need for her to throw her own emotions into the mix when Kanan was like this. Hera breathed deeply through her nose and set her shoulders. 

Kanan may have made up his mind but Hera wasn’t the type to give up so easily.

She could be stubborn too. 

“Kanan,” she said in a calm, even tone, hoping that her gentle approach would soften the ice that had settled in his gaze.  “He has to sleep somewhere.”

“Not here.” 

“It’s not like you even use your cabin anyways.” Sabine pipped up unhelpfully from the acceleration couch. “We all know you sleep with Hera.”

Hera winced internally. Maybe having this discussion out in the open wasn’t the best idea she had. 

“Or,” Ezra interjected. “I could take your cabin and he could bunk with Zeb.”

“If anybody is getting Kanan’s cabin, it’s gonna be me.” Zeb growled. 

“No one is getting my cabin.” Kanan snapped. “That’s the point.”

“Kanan, please.” Hera sighed, some of her frustrations slipping out. “Be reasonable.”

“This is me being reasonable.” he hissed. 

The atmosphere in the lounge shifted in an instant, reacting to the venom in Kanan’s voice. Wide eyes were locked on this towering form, the chilling air of confusion and disbelief filling the sudden silence. Hera stood, stunned by the harshness in his words before she snapped back to herself, anger heating her blood.

She latched onto his arm and pulled him from the room, dragging him down the short hallway to her cabin. She wasted no time pushing him inside when the doors began to part, following him in and slapping the locking mechanism, sealing them in. Kanan’s brows pulled together in a scowl, his jaw muscles working furiously as he stared her down. 

“Unlock the door,” he said. 

“No.” Hera responded, planting her hands on her hips. “Not until you stop acting like a kriffing asshole.”

“Hera, unlock the door.” Kanan repeated, his voice low and threatening. Hera’s lekku tightened at the warning but she pressed on. This had gone on long enough. She could understand that Kanan was upset but she needed him to see how ridiculous he was being. He was letting himself get all worked up over nothing and he needed to let it go. 

“It’s just for a few nights until Ahsoka gets back.” she replied, digging her heels in.

“Then he can stay on the Liberator.”

“You know we can’t dock with the Liberator while it’s in orbit.”

“Then Sato can send a shuttle to pick him up.” Kanan snapped. “Or he can rent out a room in the spaceport, I don’t kriffing care but he’s not staying here. That’s final.”

“That’s final?” she arched a brow. “Last time I checked, this was my ship. I’m the one who gets to make the call on who stays and who goes. I don’t see the issue in letting him spend a few nights here.”

“Of course you don’t.” Kanan huffed. He turned on his heel and began pulling clothes out from the storage compartment, tossing them onto the bed with force. 

“What is that supposed to mean? What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” Kanan replied flatly. The words hit Hera like a wall of ice, old fears racing to the surface of her mind, her heart racing in her chest.

“You’re what?” she whispered. 

“If he’s staying here then I’m leaving. I’ll find somewhere else to bunk down until Ahsoka gets back. I’m not staying here.”  he said, shoving clothes into a bag.   

“You can’t be serious!” she cried. “Kanan, it’s just for a few nights! What is the big deal?”

“He’s a clone!” Kanan yelled, spinning around to face her with a wild look in his eyes. “That’s what the big deal is!” 

Hera blinked. “But everything on Seelos, I thought…”

“What? You thought I’d suddenly be okay with clones just because they helped us out in a pinch?”

“No! I just thought that maybe…”

“I’m not like you, Hera.” Kanan continued on, his chest heaving. “The clones didn’t swoop in and save my planet. They murdered my master in front of me. They tried to kill me. So forgive me if I’m not so trusting of our new guest.”

Hera’s eyes slipped closed. Of course. She restrained the urge to smack her forehead. She should have known it would take more than one mission to rebuild Kanan’s trust in the clones. She should have known this was the reason behind his attitude. Hera bit the inside of her cheek again and mentally kicked herself. 

It was different for her. When looked at Rex’s face she saw Howzer. She saw countless soldiers that had risked their lives to free her planet from the separatists control. When Kanan looked at Rex, he was haunted by the memory of the Purge, his friends turned against him, his family slaughtered. Of course he wouldn’t be comfortable with a clone living on the ship. She could hardly blame him.

Still, she couldn’t push past her guilt.

She should have known. 

When she opened her eyes she saw Kanan, really saw him. Under his dark expression she could see the shadows clinging to the corners of his eyes, the fragile state of his shoulders, tensed and ready for a fight, seconds away from shattering. He was barely holding himself together. And she had, once again, allowed herself to get caught up in the excitement of growing the rebellion to notice. So blinded by her eagerness to fly that she didn’t account for the weather. 

Hera’s hand dropped from her hips, falling limply by her sides. “I’m sorry, love.” she said, taking a slow step towards him. Kanan tensed but didn’t move away. She placed her hands on his shoulders, carefully working her fingers into the tense muscles before sliding one hand behind his neck. Gently she pulled him down, until his head was resting on her shoulder, his body trembling in her arms. “I’m sorry.”

Kanan shook, his breathing sharp and ragged as Hera swayed back and forth. She hummed a gentle lullaby while her fingers slowly undid the straps of his shoulder armor, letting the heavy material fall to the floor. When Kanan’s breathing slowed, Hera led them over to her bed, tossing his bag aside and laid down beside him.

“I just,” Kanan said in a broken whisper that made Hera’s heart ache. “I’m trying. I just need time.”

Hera kissed his forehead and pulled him in close as if she could protect him from the nightmares of the past. “I know love.” she told him. “I’m sorry I pushed so hard. I’ll have Zeb relay a message to Rex about finding a room at the spaceport.”

“‘M sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, love. It’s not your fault.” Hera squeezed her eyes close, fighting back a wave of tears. “You just need time.”

She felt Kanan shutter, his choked off whimper muffled by her chest. 

“Take all the time you need.” 

[pretchatta]

🌹🌹🌹

from 'breaking our chains':

Resplendent in fine silks and glittering jewels, she reclined on an enormous throne, surrounded by attendants.

from another modern au:

Okadiah sighed. “Go home, lad.”

and this... this is yet another soulmate au, because apparently you can never have enough of those:

To explain, he pulls at the neck of his shirt to reveal the words on his shoulder and chest. Hera stares at them in shock.

[mia-cooper]

29! (I'm done harassing you, I swear)

Babe, you only bother me the way I love to be bothered, know what I mean?

29 - If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Damn,seriously? I really want to say a prequel to @jhelenoftrek’s Longing BackwardBends, but at the same time I really want her to write it.

As for asequel… I wish janezy was still around to finish what she started in Waking Up.

[jhelenoftrek]

And because I just want to know everything: 25 and 26~

ok @ailtara, last one. Better late than never, right? Thanks so much for these, they were fun!

25. What do you look for in a beta?

Like @mia-cooper said, I love when I have a beta who’s work I also enjoy. I generally want a beta who I feel writes better than I do, or with a style that I aspire to learn more from.  There’s trust to be built there, for sure, not just on the receiving end but for the beta to feel comfortable really lighting into a piece of work.  I need someone that will give me the God’s honest truth.  I can take it.  And if you just point out my punctuation I’ll be a bit disappointed and probably won’t ask again.  I usually use the hardass @mia-cooper who loves to use actual red pen on my fics, then scan them into PDF and send them back to me with “C- MINUS COULD DO BETTER.” (I’m kidding, but only sorta).  Seriously though, I’m trying to get better at this writing thing and won’t do that if no one challenges me.  I’ve been very, very fortunate to have a handful of seriously great beta’s in this fandom, you know who you are.

26. Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I do!  I counted once, I think I’ve beta’d for over two dozen different authors in this fandom. Many of them for their very first stories.  I’m always flattered and humbled when someone trusts me with their baby, I know how hard that can be. 

I’m the kind of beta that I would want for myself.  Obviously I’m not going to be as harsh if it’s the first time you’ve used me (or if this is your first story), and I will focus on what you specifically want me to look at… but I generally have my list of pet peeves (double word usage, too many “it’s” without enough description, overuse of the same kind of sentence structure) and I’m very careful to point out if things seem OOC, cause have all the bad style in the world, if the characters aren’t correct, that’s when you lose readers.  Like I said above, a beta has to be a good fit, and it takes a lot of time to beta correctly, if my advice isn’t jiving with the writer I’ll suggest someone else for them to go to.

[rikerssexblouse]

ailtara replied to your post: So I’ve got a little time to watch some Discovery...

I feel this on a spiritual level.

Right?! I just want to see my awesome ladies being awesome together!

[lodessa]

8. Why do you choose to write?

I’m basically always writing/narrating/imagining scenarios in my head, so actually writing is a way to actually try to communicate a fraction of what goes on in my head.

[cornsarts]

Rebels sketch page commission for @ailtara! This one was super fun, thank you so much!

Commissions / Kofi

[pixiedane]

ailtara replied to your post: Cheers for Chakotay/Samantha; I always thought they’d be such a down-to-earth couple and he’d be a great step-dad for Naomi.

Yes! They’re down-to-earth and surrounded by a bunch of people with their heads in the clouds. They’d be sort of adorably domestic I think, and just happy. Which is certainly what Naomi deserves. 

[lilac-vode]

I feel like soft serve ice cream. idk if this is because i'm craving said type of ice cream haha

@ailtara @neonmothman @contentment-of-cats @not-the-tie-youre-looking-for @yeetussfetus THANK YALL omg these are so fun!!! hehehe 🥰

i've been thinking yogurt :-)

[the-goofball]

[calebdumes]

forcing myself out of my creative rut by writing from the pov of a new character (also i’ve had this idea since star wars day and given what coming up this month, it makes sense tbd)

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

rating: g

word count: 1.4k

~

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to traverse the blinding heat of the desert to wander the congested streets of Ancorhead but he found himself in the spaceport city all the same. Rugged off worlders and weary townsfolk passed by him as he walked with no real destination, the twin suns of Tatoonie blazing brightly in the cloudless sky overhead. 

His feet took him to a small cantina, not far from the bustling spaceport. The tea was sour and tepid but his seat on the outdoor patio gave him a full view of the dusty city and the millions of lives that called the desolate planet home. He often wondered what it would have been like to grow up on a planet like this, nothing but sand in every direction. He suspected his life would have been very different; slow, borderline monotonous but simple, carefree in a way that was so foreign to him that it seemed like an impossible ideal. Tatoonie was a steady, solid planet where nothing ever happened. 

Then again, it was this very planet where everything had changed.

Obi Wan Kenobi looked down at this tea, letting his thoughts blended into the murky brown liquid. How many hours he had wasted, thinking of a different life, one that didn’t revolve around this particular planet? Too many to count, it seemed and he saw many more wasted days in his future but what was a Jedi to do in a galaxy that had no want for one?

The familiar ache in his chest throbbed, his throat growing tight with emotion. Obi Wan closed his eyes against the bright landscape and took a deep breath, letting the pain he felt dim as he opened himself up to the comfort of the living Force. 

Then, he felt it. 

It was like a whisper brushing up against his mind, subtle and unmistakable. 

There was a Force wielder on Tatoonie.

No - not just any Force wielder, it was a Force wielder he recognized.

Obi Wan’s first instinct was to run. His objective was to remain hidden, lest his true intentions be discovered. But an abrupt exit, even on such a place as this, would only draw more attention to himself, so he reached for his tea and brought it to his lips, focusing on the bitter liquid as it spilled down his suddenly parched throat. 

He let his conscience spread outwards, searching for the being that had sparked the awakening in the Force. He was careful not to draw too heavily on the Force as he looked, he had heard the stories of the Empire’s agents that hunted beings like him. It was only a small fraction of what he was capable of but it was more than enough to find what he was seeking. 

His eyes dragged over to a food stall on the opposite side of the wide street. Two beings stood propped up against the furrocrete walls of a building, a young, green skinned Twi’lek woman and a young Human male, both somewhere in their early twenties. While more than one eye fell on the Twi’lek woman, Obi Wan’s attention zeroed in on the man. 

He was the Force wielder. 

Careful not to reveal himself, Obi Wan studied the Force signature of the man while using his physical senses to discover more about him. He was tall and lean with dark chestnut hair tied back into a tail at the base of his skull. Like nearly everyone on Tatoonie he was armed with a blaster and while he seemed to be deep in conversation with the Twi’lek woman, Obi Wan could tell from the tense line of his broad shoulders that he was completely aware of his surroundings. 

His Force signature was much harder to read. It was clouded, hard for Obi Wan to decipher, a twisting maze of traps and durasteel walls. It was a mark of someone who knew the dangers of being a Force user in the age of the Empire. It also spoke of his strength. He was trained enough to know how to hide in plain sight but not enough to remain completely hidden.

Obi Wan pressed harder, diving past the initial defense the man had constructed around himself and couldn’t suppress the gasp of surprise when recognition took hold. 

It couldn’t be…

But it was. The Force never lied. 

It was Depa Billaba’s inquisitive padawan, Caleb Dume.

Obi Wan let go of his hold on the Force and sat back in his chair, at a loss.

Caleb was certainly much taller than he had been when Obi Wan last saw him, a small little boy with more questions than sense and a voracious hunger for knowledge. Depa had had her hands full with him, his boundless curiosity had led to more than one reckless situation that rivaled the messes his own padawan tended to land in. But looking at him now, Obi Wan could see that wild streak had been tempered, his curiosity hardened into caution that spoke of a life of hardship and survival. 

But it hadn’t warped him into something worse. Obi Wan could sense his pain, a dark hole deep in his soul but it was contained. Instead of constant fear, Obi Wan could feel the comforting heat of life surrounding him, it was different from when he was a boy but familiar all the same. Caleb was alive and happy and…in love. 

Obi Wan didn’t need the Force to see it. Even from across the street he could see how Caleb leaned in towards the young Twi’lek. How his eyes never left her face as she spoke. His expression was soft and he burned with such adoration that Obi Wan was surprised he didn’t sense it sooner. 

Whoever that young woman was, Caleb was deeply in love with her. 

There was a sour taste on the back of Obi Wan’s tongue that had nothing to do with the tea. He had seen this before and he had seen where it led. But unlike the tight possessiveness that had leached from Anakin, Obi Wan felt nothing but pure light. Caleb’s love for this woman was unconditional but even still, it couldn’t beat back the cold fingers of fear that creeped up Obi Wan’s spine. 

Do you trust him so little? A long forgotten voice echoed faintly in his mind. 

It wasn’t about trust, he wanted to say. He had trusted Anakin with his life and look at what had happened in return. A Jedi’s purpose was to love but from his point of view, this type of love would only end in heartbreak.

In the heart of a Jedi, lies their strength. The voice replied softly, fading back into his memories. 

Obi Wan glanced over at the two again, the playful smile on Caleb’s lips making the woman’s cheeks flush with color. There was no darkness hiding in the corners of their minds. Despite the pain and horrors Caleb had suffered he was still a beacon of the light, a Jedi, even in hiding. 

He wasn’t Anakin.

Caleb kissed the side of the Twi’lek’s cheek, the tips of her lekku curling pleasantly. She wrapped a gloved hand around his and pulled him away from the wall. They walked together towards the spaceport, huddled close as if existing in their own personal universe.

Obi Wan closed his eyes, fighting back the urge to follow after them. It had been so long, so long, since he had seen another Jedi. He had spent too many nights lying awake and thinking he was the only survivor, he was willing to bet Caleb had as well. He longed for the connection all Jedi felt, the familiarity that came with being with ones people. He walked to talk to Caleb, to learn what Depa’s curious padawan was doing, how he survived, if he had come across any other surviving Jedi. He wanted Caleb to feel the sense of warmth he was feeling now, knowing that he wasn’t the only Jedi left in this harsh galaxy.

But he couldn’t risk it, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was placed on Tatoonie for a reason and he could not put that in jeopardy. He could only watch as they disappeared into the spaceport.

Still, Caleb’s presence filled Obi Wan with hope. If he survived, then others could have too. 

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.

Caleb was alive. 

Obi Wan was not alone.

[emmikamikatze]

Fuck, marry, kill, get drunk with: Kate Mulgrew, Kathryn Janeway, Mrs. Columbo, Mary Ryan. :)

Marry Kate Mulgrew to have all of them.

Fuck Mary Ryan.

Get drunk with Kathryn Janeway.

Kill Mrs Columbo before she has Jenny!

[mia-cooper]

‘tis the season: story #7

what am I talking about?

On my birthday this year I received the most amazing gift from @ailtara - a lengthy, thoughtful and utterly flattering analysis of my fic The Bitter End. I still go back and read it monthly, or whenever I’m having trouble writing, because it’s the greatest compliment and encouragement there is to have a reader tell you in detail what they liked (or didn’t like) about your work.

I didn’t manage to give back in time for @ailtara‘s birthday, so here’s a holiday season gift instead to say thank you. It’s a sequel of sorts to The Bitter End, and it fulfills a prompt @jhelenoftrek sneakily got out of you awhile ago, with Admiral Janeway telling Chakotay what happened in the unaltered Endgame timeline.

So here it is, for the one who loves to stomp in the puddles of their dreams:

Crumbling Castles (rated M) on AO3 | ffnet

Other gift fics are posted on AO3 at the Christmas Baubles 2017 collection.

[jhelenoftrek]

Also 8, 13, and 17!

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’vewritten and explain why you’re proud of it.

“I can’t seem to stop living in that place where she was,” he admits after a time.  “It’s as though I’m trapped there.  And I see you… I’ve seen you for the last few years, living and moving on with such grace.  Such ease.  Part of me is jealous because I want to be able to do that. The other part is angry, I don’t understand how you can just keep going.”

“What other choice did I have?” she asks softly, not expecting an answer.  “And Chakotay, nothing about this has been easy. If I’ve somehow given you the impression that it has been…”

“I didn’t mean it like that.  I’ve seen your grief, but it’s so different than mine.”  They stop walking at the end of the way and she comes to rest with her back against the curve in the balustrade as he gazes out.  It’s easier to continue, he finds, if he imagines that she isn’t there, otherwise he might abandon his confession as he has so many times before.  “I hear you talking about her and you always seem so poised and calm.  I can’t even say her name, Kathryn.  Do you know that?”

“I’ve noticed.”

This is from my story “The Bitter and the Sweet” and is the center chunk of one of my favorite scenes.  I walked around for weeks muttering this dialogue to get it just right.  I wanted to convey how two people - parents - can grieve the loss of a child in two very different ways, and how that can threaten to divide them, or work to bring them closer together.  The whole story is a misdirection until the end, and my intent was to then just wallop on the feels. I was quite happy with the result.

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

“Don’t be afraid to write a shitty first draft.” K. Beyer said it, lots of other people have as well.  But it’s really true.  You can’t fix what you don’t have on paper.  That advice keeps me writing a lot of times when I actually hate what’s coming down to the page, but I know there’s at least something there to work with. 

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you writethe scenes out of order?

I jump around.  A lot.  Probably more than I should, but it seems to work for me.  For shorter stories I go straight through, but will often write the ending first. For longer plot-driven things I do all my favorite bits first, or at least the important dialogue with no action yet…. basically I do the parts I KNOW i want in there and then I tailor the rest to fit that feel. Otherwise I feel like i’m wandering in the dark.  Those little sections I’ve sketched off the bat act like rest-stops for me, or little lamp posts, i guess.  

[rikerssexblouse]

ailtara replied to your post: Okay, so Frakes let it slip that there would be a...

MIRROR GEORGIOU AND MIRROR (EVIL??!?) CAPTAIN TILLY SIGN ME THE EFF UP

I KNOW RIGHT?!