#Why is Kanan alive? because SHUT UP that's why

[yubsie]

Well maybe if they stopped KILLING MY BLORBOS!

[iknowwhattosaynow]

I never knew I had a dream until that dream was you.

[yubsie]

You know canon’s stubborn refusal to explain where Jacen is when Hera is making a post-Rebels appearance is actually kinda convenient for those of us who are deeply in denial about a certain scene in a certain episode having happened. You don’t need to explain where the kid is when the answer is “with his other parent”! Why isn’t Kanan there? Because someone has to look after the kid, obviously.

[iknowwhattosaynow]

SWBB Christmas Teaser

Because it's Christmas and I feel like all of my SWR fam deserves a little bit of a gift for being such a joy for me, I give you a hearty T rated section of my SWBB (for implied sex but not actual sex). “Spectre 9 to Spectres 1 and 2. As the rest of your crew seems to be able to ignore the facts, it’s apparently fallen upon me to inform you that while durasteel is a significantly sturdy industrial material, it does have a porous quality that allows it some flexibility, thus why it does so well in prolonged space travel. That being said, it rates poorly in the blocking of sound unless a dense insulating barrier is applied between layers,” Kallus was incredibly matter of fact in the statement.

Kanan’s brow arched, “Is he saying?”

Hera was torn between laughing and being mortified. “We were quiet!” She protested to Kanan, nudging him for already chuckling at the revelation.

“All those years,” was all that Kanan could say, face screwed up in a splendid smile that brightened his entire expression and radiated nothing but happiness.

Kallus’ voice again disrupted the air, “I regret to inform you that you were most definitely not quiet. Spectre 9, out.”

[kamino-blues]

Reunited at Last (Rebels!Gregor x Jedi!Reader)

Rating: Pg & Sfw

Warnings: Slight angst, the rest is fluff! Gregor is older due to this taking place during Rebels. Y/n is used (but only 4 times!!)

Word Count: 2,090

Summary: You thought that Gregor has been dead for over 15 years, how will you react when he suddenly comes back into your life?

Note: For the past week I have only been daydreaming about Gregor, so I had to write something about him! I feel like I've read every fic on here about him whoops 😅

You heard rumors of Gregor being alive, being found on Abafar and surviving an explosion from rhydonium barrels. There were mentions through different cantinas of commandos being gathered to work for the empire to continue training soldiers. Then it turned to rumors about how the clones were being phased out, how Kamino had been destroyed. It became too painful for you to bear.

It felt as if it was all a cruel joke being played on you, almost as if your past chose to haunt you until the end of your days. So you shut your emotions away. The once joyous person you were, full of life, was gone. You just went through the motions, trying to survive away from the hell of the Empire. That was, until you met the Ghost crew. They took you under their wing, and slowly helped you become who you used to be. You would never be completely the same, Gregor was a large part of you, but it was a start.

You couldn’t stop the small amount of jealousy from coming over you whenever you saw Hera and Kanan interact. The lingering touches, the loving glances, everything they did reminded you of how you were with him. The strong commando that had found a soft spot for you, who would fight side by side with you, who always had your back.

Gregor was your other half, but he was gone. So even if you caught yourself longingly looking at what you wished you still had, you knew you had to go on. So you worked for the rebellion, using your Jedi knowledge to try and help as much as you could. You couldn’t go out as Kanan could, you were too recognizable from the days you served with the Republic. So you were home base, staying back as the Ghost went out on missions. It was nice to hear the tales of what happened, and when Kanan found a new Padawan, it gave you a chance to practice with your saber again. Life was beginning to feel a little more normal.

As the search for a new rebel base started, you were put to work. They had you searching through countless manifests and artifacts, trying to find something that could be used. You were constantly on your datapad, scouring, searching for anything. But it was to no avail, you just didn’t have the resources to find what was needed. That was until Fulcrum came along.

You weren’t told much, but as the Ghost flew away, you had confidence that something would come out of it. It had been weeks, going on a month as you waited for a comm telling you if a new base had been found. So you kept yourself busy. Lightsaber training, studying, working out, meditation, anything to keep your mind from drifting.

It was midday during saber training when you felt your wrist buzz, and you quickly tapped on your comm, it fizzing to life.

“Y/n, come to the hangar, I think you want to see this.” You heard Hera’s voice crackle out, and you couldn’t help the confusion falling onto your face. The mission was to find a base, why would there be something to see in the hangar? Your mind was scouring the possibilities, trying to figure out what in the maker's name Hera could be talking about.

“I’m on my way Hera, I’ll be there in a few. Can I ask what you are going to show me?” You let out as you clipped your lightsaber to your belt, adjusting your outfit as you started to walk to the hangar.

“It’s better as a surprise, you better hurry!” You heard Hera click off the comm, and you shook your head. The walk seemed longer than normal, your curiosity consuming your brain as you quickened your step.

The doors to the hangar slid open, you carefully stepping through as you spotted Hera coming down the ramp of the Ghost. She gave you a small wave, walking towards you with a pleased smile on her face.

“I take it you found a base?” You let out as she got closer. Hera’s smile faltered, but she rested her hand on your shoulder.

“Not exactly, but we did find some people who have information to help us find one.” You couldn’t help but tilt your head in confusion, raising an eyebrow. Hera laughed at this, her squeezing your shoulder before letting go. “The rest of the crew is meeting with Commander Sato, along with the informants. I’m going to be heading there, but I want you to stay here ok?”

“I’m not needed at the meeting? Is there something wrong with the ship that needs to be fixed?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking questions. This whole exchange was just, strange, that was the only way you could put it. Hera shook her head, a smile crawling onto her face.

“I need you to meet with one of the informants one on one, he’ll be leaving the meeting early to reconvene with you. Trust me,” There was a look in Hera’s eyes that you couldn’t place, and you couldn’t help but nod. She gave you one last smile before leaving the hangar, the door sliding shut behind her.

You climbed onto one of the many crates in the hangar, your legs dangling off the side of it. You were going over Hera’s words, trying to get a sense of what is even happening. You ended up closing your eyes, slipping into a light meditation. It was some time before you heard a door slide open across from where you were, hearing footsteps move into the room before stopping.

“Y/n?” Your body stiffened, eyes opening wide as you stared at the figure from across the hangar. That was the voice of those you had worked beside during the Clone Wars. The voice of those who had turned against the Republic, who killed countless of your friends. But the clone's voice was soft, and it almost sounded like- but it couldn’t be, he had died, there’s no way it was him.

You jumped down from the crate, your hand on your saber as you cautiously made your way towards the clone. You were still too far away to see his eyes, but as you moved closer you had to stop tears from filling your eyes. He saw your hand on your lightsaber, and he put his hands out. He was dressed in a tank top, with a logo that you had never seen before.

“Y/n, cyare, it's me, it's Gregor! It’s been a long time hasn’t it?” He let out a little giggle, yet his face was completely serious. You couldn’t help your hands from shaking.

“That can’t, that isn’t possible! Gregor died, how could he be here?” The tears slipped from your eyes, and you came to a stop right in front of him. Gregor reached out to you, hesitating, before bringing his hand down. You could see his eyes tearing up, and you couldn’t help but have deja vu to the evenings after long missions, missions filled with high fatality rates. He may be a commando, but he was still human, and he had trusted you to see the emotional side of him.

“I survived y/n.” There was so much about him that was different, but he was the same. You knew it was him, but you couldn't help but deny it.

But why was Hera determined to get you to stay behind at the hangar? She was the only one you confided in about Gregor, she knew how much he meant to you. Hera had seen pictures of him, she had heard how you described him. The doubt in your mind was slowly shrinking, the barriers falling down. You could feel in the force his energy, Gregor's energy, something you never thought that you would feel again.

Gregor's voice was different, and so were some of his mannerisms, but his eyes were the same, his smile was the same. It was your Gregor, who you could tell has gone through a lot since you both separated over 15 years ago.

15 years, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You felt your body shaking, legs giving out underneath you as it clicked in your brain that Gregor was alive. You felt his arms grab you quickly, wrapping around you as he slowly lowered both of you to the ground. The hug was softer, yet still had the same feel as it did all that time ago.

“Gregor, it’s you, makers above it’s really you,” You mumbled into his shoulder, and you felt his arms tighten around you. Gregor’s chest rumbled as a few stray giggles fell from his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head.

You slowly moved your arms around him, finally returning the hug that Gregor had you in. You felt his body relax slightly, holding you there.

“I have so many stories my sunshine, you couldn’t believe the things that have happened! I survived two explosions-“ Gregor started to go over all the events that you had missed, you curling against his body to rest the side of your head against his chest. He had one arm wrapped around your back, his other moving around as he talked. You ended up shifting your arms so that you could hold onto your legs, eyes focused on his face as you looked over every detail on his weathered skin. He looked so different, yet he was the same.

“I had lost my memory until a squad of droids, ha can you even believe that?, managed to stir up all my memories by showing me a holo of Rex! Cyare you couldn’t imagine my panic, the first thing I thought of was of you. I just, I wasn’t able to get back because I was knocked out by an explosion,” You felt him move his arm to rub the back of his neck, looking away sheepishly. “It’s kinda how I became the way I am now ya know?”

Reaching up with your hand, you let it hover a few centimeters from his face, looking for his reaction. Gregor leaned against it, his eyes on you with a large grin plastered on his face.

“I never stopped looking for you, even after the Republic fell, I kept searching. I was sent to train storm troopers as a commando again, I thought it would be my chance to find you. It was a dead end, and I was forced to stop,” Gregor let out a little giggle, “But you’re here now, I’ve found you.” You could see his eyes watering, and you lightly swept your thumb against his cheek. His eyes closed from the motion, relaxing into your embrace.

“I became a Rebel fighter.” You let out, a small smile falling onto your face. “I can’t go out, but I sure can type battle reports much better than I have before.” Gregor let out a laugh, one that reminded you of the laugh that would come out after the two of you drank a little too much at 79’s. You couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from your lips, tilting your head forward to lean your head against his.

Silence fell over the two of you, Gregor looking as though he was searching for words that he couldn’t find. After a few moments, he pulled back, creating space between the both of you. Immediately you realized how much colder it was without being in his arms, and it took all your willpower to not let out a whine of protest. He stood up, holding out his hand to pull you up. You quickly grabbed it, him lifting you but not letting go. You looked into his eyes, and you could just feel the anxiety radiating from him.

“My sunshine, do you.. Do you still love me? I know it's been many years and I’m a lot older now, plus I’ve been told by Wolffe a few times that I have a few screws-“ You cut him off with a kiss, Gregor's eyes widening into a shocked expression as you pull away.

“I will always love you, forever and always, no matter what.” A large smile broke over Gregor’s face, lifting you into a spinning hug. You both couldn’t contain your laughter, grateful to be reunited with someone you both never thought would ever see again.

Taglist: @sitherin-mxschief , @kirinpl , @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s , @monako-jinn-stories , @os274 ,

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[kanerallels]

OKAY OKAY ROUND TWO OF THIS! Kanera fix it or Kanera and waffles! Whichever works <3

*has no self control* *writes my first fix it* This was hecking fun! I hope you enjoyed it!

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla

Word Count: 2,455

Tags/Warning: rated T (for time travel! *insert Hulk gif here*) and also near death

This wasn’t how Kanan wanted things to end.

He'd wanted more time. He'd wanted to explain things to Hera, to tell her how much she meant to him.

But things had moved too fast for him. Kanan was too late.

He felt the heat of the fire from the fuel pod singing the tips of his fingers, and concentrated on pushing it back with all his strength, his hands shaking slightly and his face twisting with the effort. The fire billowed high above him, but Kanan wasn’t afraid. Just full of regrets.

Behind him, he heard Hera scream his name, her voice full of raw desperation and fear. Kanan knew, without even needing to look, that she would run towards him and she did, her steps barely audible above the roar of the flames.

Turning without looking, Kanan diverted part of his concentration and caught her in her steps, holding her back with the Force. He felt her struggle against the grip, panic and fear pulsing through her.

Slowly, on some instinct he didn’t understand, he turned to face Hera. Maybe it was because of how much he ached to see her. Maybe it was to give her one last glimpse of him. Kanan sensed her desperation, her fear, how much she wanted to reach him.

But he couldn’t let her. There was too much at stake. So with a quick thrust, he sent her flying back to where Ezra was waiting, ready. His apprentice caught hold of her, holding her back. Kanan felt a flicker of gratitude-- he could always count on Ezra.

An odd tingling sensation swept across his eyes, and for a moment he thought he was crying. But crying had been impossible ever since Malachor. Since he’d been blinded.

Even as he thought the word, it was like a cloud was swept away from his eyes, and he could see. Kanan had no idea how, but he accepted it calmly, as he’d accepted his fate.

His gaze locked onto Hera first-- Hera, clad in an orange prisoner’s jumpsuit, a look of complete horror and fear in her eyes, with the slightest hint of surprise and awe as she looked at him. Kanan took her in, drinking in the very sight of her. She was older than she had been when they’d first met, and had only grown more beautiful. And Kanan had only grown more in love with her.

Behind her, holding her back, was Ezra-- Force, Ezra. He was so tall, so grown-up looking. Kanan was well aware he’d only ever pictured the little boy from Lothal, and he felt pride stirring in his heart. Stay safe, kid, he thought. You know what to do. I love you both.

And so he released his hold on the flames and used all his power and strength to send the ship that held Ezra, Sabine, and Hera flying away from the fuel depot. It would be enough. It had to be enough.

They would be safe. And they would keep fighting. Hera always did.

That was Kanan’s last thought before the flames swallowed him.

But it wasn’t his last thought.

Even as the fire swirled around him, he heard a strange whoosh, and the sound of boots impacting on metal, and suddenly the fire was gone. And Kanan was somewhere else entirely.

“Did it work?”

A young male voice came from behind Kanan, stunned but excited.

“Of course it worked, idiot, he’s not dead and we still exist,” said a dry female voice that sounded… bizarrely familiar. Almost like--

Kanan turned towards the sound and someone tackled him to the ground, slapping a hand over his eyes. “Sorry, sorry-- eyes closed,” the young man ordered. “If you look, I’ll tell Hera.”

“What does that even mean?” Kanan demanded-- although it was a fairly compelling argument. Trying to shove the young man off of him, he said “Who are you? What are you doing?”

“Saving you, you dumb--”

The young man cleared his throat loudly, cutting off the woman. “We were sent here to save your life.”

“What?” Kanan’s jaw dropped, surprise flashing through him. “Wha-- no, I was supposed to die. It had to happen, to save Hera and Ezra and Sabine--”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, the woman said, “They’re FINE, trust me. Well, other than the fact they think you’re dead.”

The young man groaned. “Okay, you should probably stop talking now. I’ll handle this.”

“You’re not much more diplomatic than me!”

“Everyone’s more diplomatic than you, Depa.”

“Depa?” Kanan asked, a frown knitting his forehead.

He heard his two rescuers freeze, and a muttered curse. “Yeah,” the young man said cautiously. “That’s her name.”

“That was my master’s name,” Kanan said, his mind racing. There was no way that could be a coincidence. Sure, there were probably other people in the galaxy named Depa, but--

“You can probably stop sitting on him-- he’ll behave,” Depa said dryly. “Right, Jarrus? That means keep your eyes close, and NO PEEKING or I’ll punch you out.”

“You can’t punch him out,” the young man said with a sigh.

“Why, because he’s an old geezer? I’m not afraid to hit an old man.”

Kanan sensed the young man rolling his eyes. “He’s not even that old right now! Okay, I’m gonna let you up-- please keep your eyes closed.”

The young man scrambled off of him, and Kanan slowly rose to his feet, wincing. He’d been burned, he could feel that much-- his hands, the back of his neck and his face especially. But somehow, impossibly, he was alive.

“I-- thank you,” he said. “I don’t know how or why you saved me, but thank you.”

“Someone had to,” Depa said, her voice surprisingly sincere. “And Force knows you needed help.”

“True,” the young man agreed. “But we don’t have all day here-- we need to get you back.”

“Back?” Kanan asked.

“Back to Hera and everyone else,” the young man elaborated. “If you follow us, we can get you out of here and back to them. They should be expecting you. Hopefully. We’re pretty sure Ezra warned them.”

“Reassuring,” Kanan said, keeping his eyes shut. “Which way are we going? And where are we, exactly?”

“This way,” Depa said, giving his shoulder a slight nudge in the right direction. As Kanan started walking, she added, “And we’re in some dumb alternate dimension.”

“It’s a world between worlds,” the young man corrected from ahead of them. “And it was really hard to get here. You wouldn’t believe all the stuff we had to do to get here. But it led us to where you were, which makes it worth it.”

“Why?” Kanan asked, releasing the question he’d been turning over in his mind. “Why did you come to save me? Why you in particular?”

He heard the young man’s footsteps stutter, like he’d paused in his steps. “Oh. Um…”

“Subtle, Jacen,” Depa said sarcastically.

“Jacen?” Kanan felt a grin cross his face. “So that’s your name.”

Jacen let out a sigh. “Nice one, Depa. Look, D-- Kanan. You’re… really important. To a lot of people. And they couldn’t just lose you if there was something that could be done.”

“So we did it,” Depa said matter of factly. “As you do. Oh, we’re here! This is your stop.”

They came to a halt, and Kanan sensed… something. Like a light at the end of a hallway, beckoning him forward. “And this is where I’m supposed to go?” he said warily. “It’s safe?”

“Trust me,” Jacen said. “She’s on the other side. Hera is. Your family is waiting for you.”

Kanan nodded slowly, his mind spinning. Despite the obvious strangeness of this whole thing, the way it had caught him off guard, there were a few things that he had a strange feeling about. Like he was two steps away from putting something together, something incredibly important. “Wait-- before I go through there. Will I be able to see?”

“I-- oh. No,” Depa said, her voice soft, almost shaken. “You never could after Lothal. That was the last time.”

“Then I at least want to see the faces of the pair that saved my life,” Kanan said. “If you’re alright with it.”

“I’m not sure--” Jacen began.

“Oh, shut up and let him,” Depa said, her voice exasperated. “What’s the worst that could happen? Besides, I-- I want him to.”

There was a short pause, then Jacen sighed. “I know. Me, too. Okay, go ahead.”

Kanan’s eyes flicked open. He was in what looked like outer space-- pure black, only broken up by strange white lines outlining paths. And, every now and then, circular doorways. “Huh,” Kanan murmured, his gaze sweeping across the place. And then it landed on the duo standing in front of him, and his eyes widened in surprise.

They were both a couple years younger than him. Jacen was a tall young man, tan-skinned except where it was green, especially along his pointed ears. His long hair, tied back in a ponytail, and scruffy goatee were a deep shade of green, and his eyes were almost an almost disturbingly familiar shade of turquoise.

Depa was a young Twi’lek woman with green skin, pink patches here and there. Her eyes were brown, and widened slightly with shock as they met his. “He really does have your eyes,” she said, her voice stunned.

“Wow,” Kanan breathed, any doubt in his mind swept away. “Are-- are you two-- Wow. Words fail me.”

Depa let out a snort. “Same here. But about that haircut. Mom was right, it really is awful. Worse than the one Jacen gave himself when he was eleven. It was really bad, be glad you didn’t see it.”

Kanan chuckled, then glanced at Jacen. “I-- and you two came here to save me?”

Jacen shrugged. “We wouldn’t exist if we didn’t. Well, I would, but Depa wouldn’t, and that’s a downside. Kinda.”

Depa punched him in the arm, and Jacen let out a yelp, darting away from her as she took another swing at him, and Kanan could only shake his head because of what he was watching. “This is unbelievable.”

“I mean. Not that unbelievable,” Jacen pointed out, a smile crossing his face that Kanan had seen a thousand times in the seat next to his own.

“Wow. You look… just like your mom. Both of you.”

Jacen’s eyes went wide. “R-really? Um. Everyone says I look like… you.”

“That is Hera Syndulla’s smile right there,” Kanan said, and he knew it to his core. “Looks just like hers. But yeah, I can see our resemblance. Well. For now.”

The smile faded off of Jacen’s face, and he said in a low voice, “We can’t stay.”

Nodding, Kanan said, “I know. I should probably get going, too. Just--” he paused, looking at his children for the last time. “I’m proud of you two already.”

“That is so typical of you,” Depa said, rolling her eyes in a completely Hera movement. “Do you have any idea how many kids you’re gonna adopt? Hint-- it’s a lot.”

“No spoilers,” Jacen ordered. “We should go. But before we do--” he turned to Kanan. “When the time comes, tell Ezra that he doesn’t have to be you. He has to be him, and no one else.”

“Oh, and don’t worry,” Depa said breezily. “You’ll find him eventually.”

“Wait, what? What does that mean?” Kanan demanded.

“You’re about to find out,” Depa said with a wink, and that, Kanan knew, she’d gotten from him.

Leaning forward, Jacen said, “She’s your most infuriating child. Yes, more so than the Mandalorian.”

Kanan shook his head, grinning. “I can’t wait for you two to come along. I really can’t.”

Shrugging, Depa said, “You might not have to wait that long. Now get out of here, we’ve all got places to be.”

“Right.” Kanan turned towards the doorway, which was a blank white, and glanced back at his kids one more time. “May the Force be with you,” he told them.

“You always say that,” Jacen said with a slight grin. “See you soon, Dad.”

Kanan nodded, then stepped through the doorway.

Everything was dark as he stumbled out into what was some kind of clearing, or something. But he felt the sunlight on his face, and knew why it was. His eyesight was gone again, and he was okay with that.

A shriek cut through his thoughts, and he jerked his head up as someone shouted his name. “Kanan!”

It was Hera, her voice holding shock and joy and love, and Kanan heard her run towards him. But this time, he was running, too, and felt her slam into him. “You’re here,” she choked out, a sob shaking her body. “Ezra was right. I didn’t think--”

Kanan cut her off with a kiss, pulling her closer as she kissed him back. Breaking away from the kiss, he whispered, “I love you, too.”

Hera let out a shaky laugh. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear those words, love.”

“I-- wait.” Kanan froze. “How long was I gone? How long since the fuel depot?” Panic raced through him.

“Only three months,” Hera assured him, clearly catching his fear. “You’ve missed a lot. There’s some things we should talk about.”

“I bet,” Kanan muttered. “Okay, let’s go talk.”

Hera stepped away from him, but caught hold of his hand so she could lead him. “Right this way, dear.”

Kanan relished the sound of her voice as he walked with her, willing to wait through whatever they had to talk about next.

Well. Almost willing. “There’s… one thing that I have to ask you,” he said. “There was this weird thing that happened while I was gone-- it’s a long story. But something that happened made me think-- it might be stupid, but I just need to ask--”

Cutting him off, Hera said, “Just ask, love.”

“Right.” Taking a quick breath, Kanan asked, “Are you… pregnant?”

He felt her stop in her tracks, shock radiating through her. “I--” Hera paused, then let out a sigh. “I was planning on telling you myself, you know. Not sure I should be thanking your Jedi instincts on this one. But… yes. I’m pregnant.”

Holy. Kriff. “I’m gonna be a dad,” Kanan whispered, the words surreal but beautiful. They were real. I actually saw my kids. Which means-- Jacen.

A smile slipping across his face, he bent down and kissed Hera again. He knew things had to have changed, and he had a lot to catch up on. But he was with the woman he loved, and he had a lifetime to look forward to. They could handle it together.

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

Hey! I literally love your last post so much but I'm confused about the rebels bit (never watched it). How does Rebels criticize the jedi? Thanks!

Aw, thank you! (Lol, this is such an old ask I don’t remember what that post was, but here goes).

Well in s2 Ahsoka, Kanan (a survivor from Order 66) and Ezra (his Padawan) all go to an old Jedi Temple to talk to Yoda about Vader and his Inquisitors (Darksiders who hunt the few remaining Jedi and kidnap Force sensitive kids). Yoda is only there spiritually and the three of them get different visions. Ahsoka sees Anakin as Vader, and Kanan has to fight several enemies and eventually admit he can't protect his Padawan from the world, only guide him (which prompts the vision to finally make him a Jedi Knight, as he survived Order 66 as a Padawan.)

And Ezra... Ugh. Ezra had a previous encounter with Yoda, in which he got his lightsaber crystal. Basically Yoda asked him why he wanted to be a Jedi, and Ezra had to do some self-examination and eventually realized that helping and protecting people made him feel alive, which greatly pleased Yoda who told him he might become a Jedi after all. That's a really great exchange and I love the character development Ezra gets, as he starts by saying he wants never to feel powerless and eventually realizes that's not the right answer.

But in this second encounter, as Ezra asks how they can defeat the Inquisitors, Yoda basically says that fighting is rarely the right path. And to illustrate that, he says that line about the Jedi being arrogant and joining the war swiftly "in their arrogance," which really bothers me. He also says they were "consumed by the Dark Side", which is why they're now gone. In all fairness, he also mentions that they were motivated by fear, which is partially true. 

Now, I write analyses and I try to be intellectually honest about them, because ignoring contradicting stuff weakens your argument instead of helping you. Except this time, I really can't accept this quote. I have an excuse, Lucas wasn't involved in Rebels so it's not the highest canon in my opinion (the 6 movies + TCW are, here are the quotes justifying my position), and I feel like that assertion is out of character for Yoda, ignoring his ST ghost appearances, and also plainly factually incorrect.

I understand that Ezra really needed to be taught not to always seek to fight. At this point, he's still an emotional kid who occasionally struggles with the Dark Side. Not fighting is important to a Jedi's path, so I can understand Yoda's intention. But the example he uses? According to Lucas, the Jedi were drafted in the war. That's not jumping into a conflict out of arrogance, that's literally being dragged there against your will. And sure, there’s Geonosis, but how exactly is rescuing a bunch of your people that’s getting slaughtered by a Sith Lord the same thing as arrogantly jumping into a fight? Like, what’s the option here? Not go, and let an innocent Senator and a bunch of Jedi be murdered?

It's like Rebels!Yoda isn't acknowledging that the war was fake and that a Sith Lord engineered it as the perfect trap (which is recurring problem in Rebels; at one point Ezra, Kanan and Rex have to fight an old Separatist tactical droid and Ezra "solves" the Clone Wars by pointing out that nobody won except the Empire, so really they were on the same side all along, and he gets praised for doing what "a bunch of Jedi, senators and Clones couldn't do," ie getting both sides to talk to each other – except wtf??? setting aside that the Jedi and Rex were aware of the war being fake by the end of it, and that the Separatists were openly led by a Sith Lord and attempted to commit genocide several times in TCW and did commit mass murder, and reduced like several worlds to slavery or starvation and were backed by the worst big corporations you could imagine, the war would NOT have ended if the two sides had tried talking it out. 1) The Senate made it illegal 2) the big corporations arranged for terrorist attacks on both sides the one time they tried to negotiate so the war would drag on and they'd get more money out of it 3) Sidious. Was. Controlling. Everything. What. The. Heck. Would. Have. Been. Accomplished. By. Negotiating.)  Plus the question of whether or not the Jedi should even fight is like... constantly raised by the Jedi during TCW, so I really can’t see it as “oh wow we didn’t even take the time to think and we got killed because of it, we really sucked.” 

Seriously, there’s this S6 quote: 

MACE: Are you sure we are taking the right path? YODA: The right path, no. The only path, yes. Designed by the Dark Lord of the Sith, this web is. For now, play his game, we must.

Like yeah, totally rushing in and being eager to fight lol. Nothing to do with being boxed in and having no alternatives. 

So yeah that's bothers me and I don't think it jibes with the rest of canon. I don't remember Yoda telling Luke (who, in the beginning, is as eager to fight as Ezra is) that the Jedi "disappeared" because of some fault of their own, or because of an eagerness to fight. (Seriously, pussyfooting around the fact that the Jedi were slaughtered grates me.) The OT never, ever, ever implies that the destruction of the Jedi Order was their fault - and unless you assume that the OT is “pro-Jedi propaganda” (*laughs in dumb youtube comments*) then I don’t see Rebels weaving it into its narrative as legitimate.

Again, choosing alternatives to fighting is a great lesson on a personal level, but it doesn't work on the scale of the Rebels/Empire conflict - or the Jedi/Sith one. Ezra should often choose not to fight because of what it'll do to his soul. The Rebels should not stop fighting because there is no cohabitation with something as evil as the Empire. Imo Yoda is always presented as wise enough to know the difference. 

The last thing that makes me think it's out of character is Yoda's spiritual journey in TCW s6. He gets all of his flaws thrown into his face and has to conquer them – he has to face his literal Dark Side and he wins. And yet at no point during that arc is he ever made to conquer his ‘Jedi arrogance’ or whatever. He has to face his worst fear (first vision, all the Jedi dying), let go of his attachments (second vision, him having to accept that he can’t live in a perfect world where everything is beautiful and no one is dead), and reaffirm who he is as a Jedi (third vision, refusing to give up on Anakin and trying to save him rather than to kill Sidious) but at no point is he ever made to recognize that wow, the Jedi are the worst for fighting. 

I’d argue that the very purpose of the visions showing him Order 66 and Anakin falling are to make him accept that these things are completely beyond his control - and as such, not his fault. He doesn’t get to fix things, because the fate of the Order is not in their own hands. It is, in fact, in Anakin’s (from a thematical/narrative standpoint). Yoda has a hard time with it (actually he almost shuts down when he first sees everybody dead and his first reaction is to say that he failed them, so I can’t accept Yoda blaming his grandkids for dying) but he accepts it in the end, when he tells Mace and Obi-Wan he’s not certain one ever wins a war, but they might still find ‘victory for all time’ (referring to balance aka Sidious’ death in RotJ). 

So anyway that’s my beef with Rebels!Yoda. Not hate on Rebels though, there are many parts of it that I really, really love - but some of them kinda infuriate me, and this is one of them. 

[calebdumes]

Prompt: Kanan and Hera with Ezra post Legacy/Princess on Lothal being supportive sweet space parents!! 🥺🥺

Anonymous said:  Can I request Space parents!Kanera + Ezra fic?

here ya go! 

*just a reminder, my ask is currently closed to new prompt requests as i work through the ones i have now! thanks for understanding!

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

rating: n/r (mentions of parental death)

word count: 1.2k

~

Ezra emerged from his cabin sometime in the late afternoon. He came shuffling into the lounge with hunched shoulders and a gloomy look that seemed to always haunt his features these days. Kanan glanced up at him as he entered and frowned. He gave Hera a slight nudge, drawing her attention away from the datapad she was absorbed in. She looked up at him before spotting the kid, her lekku drooping. 

"Hey kid." Kanan called out to Ezra. "You hungry?"

Ezra shrugged, plopping down on the acceleration couch next to Hera, splaying his legs out under the holotable. "I dunno." he said glumly. "I guess."

Hera gave Kanan a look that spoke volumes. With a nod, Kanan pushed himself up from the couch and darted into the galley. 

It had only been a few days since they had left Lothal, the fate of Ezra's parents still fresh on everyone's mind. Even Chopper had been uncharacteristically gentle with the kid but Ezra didn't seem to notice. He walked around the Ghost in a haze, sleeping late, and hardly eating. It was getting to the point that Kanan was starting to worry about him - more than he already was. 

Kanan dropped the hot waffles onto a plate and slathered them in Jogan berry syrup before snagging a few slices of meiloorun for Hera and heading back into the lounge. He placed the food down in front of the gaunt looking boy and sat down beside him, Hera flanking him on the other side. He stretched out his arm along the curve of the couch, his thumb brushing against Hera's neck. 

She gave him one of those looks, the type of glances that held entire conversations within the depths of her brilliant green eyes, the type that only came after living with someone as long as they have. Kanan responded in kind, raising a brow in her direction. 

"Ezra." she began softly, her melodic voice calm and even. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine." he replied shortly, stabbing at the waffles. 

"What she means kid," Kanan intervened. "Is, do you want to talk about anything?"

"No." he ran his fork through the sticky purple syrup, watching as it dripped down the prongs to fall in slow puddles on the waffle. Hera opened her mouth to say something but quickly snapped it shut when Kanan gave her a quick shake of his head. He had become pretty fluent in how his padawan navigated his emotions. Now that they had cracked open the door, they just needed to give him a little more time. 

The minutes ticked by, Ezra prodding at his food while Hera and Kanan sat beside him, not saying a word. Finally, Ezra put his fork down and rested his hands on the holotable. 

"It's just," he started, then paused, his back going stiff. "If you're worried I won't be ready for a mission or if you think this is messing with my head, it's not." he said in a steely voice. "It's not like I haven't lost them before. I'll get over it."

"Ezra, no." Hera said gently, placing a hand over one of Ezra's fists. "That's not what we meant. We want you to talk to us. We want you to know that you don't have to go through this alone."

A flash of anger raged over Ezra's face. "Alone? Last I checked you still had parents."

"That's not what she means and you know it." Kanan said. "One way or another, everyone on this crew has gone through exactly what you are going through now."

Ezra's anger didn't abate. "Oh yeah and what parent did you lose, Jedi?" he sneered. 

"Lashing out in anger isn't going to help you feel better." Kanan said gently, pushing his own sting of hurt aside. Ezra was in pain, he was mourning the loss of his parents. A few harsh words were bound to come out but what mattered more to Kanan, was how he chose to move on from his anger.

The teen's head fell. "I'm sorry." he mumbled. "I had just hoped that maybe if they were alive I-" Fresh tears welled up in his bright blue eyes. "'I'm sorry."

Hera wrapped her arms around Ezra, pulling him into her side, her own eyes glassy with tears. "Please don't apologize, love." she stroked his hair. "You have nothing to be sorry for. We just want you to know that we're here for you, for whatever you need." Hera took a shuddering breath. "You've just been so distant with everyone lately and we know you need your space but we're just worried about you."

Ezra swallowed thickly, wiping at his eyes. "I know, I just - I thought, I thought it would be like before, when they were taken. I used to think they were dead because it was easier but I guess I was always hoping that they weren't but now that they are...it's just hard."

"I lost my mother when I was about your age." Hera said. "She was killed during a riot in Lessu. I remember feeling so lost after it happened. My father was always dedicated to the cause but after her death, that was all he seemed to care about. He channeled all his pain into Ryloth because that was the only way he knew how to deal. For me, I was lucky to have Chopper. Otherwise, I don’t know what I would have done."

"How did you get over it? Losing your mom?"

"You never really do." Hera smiled sadly. "That pain is still there but it eases over time. I know that she wouldn't want me to mourn her forever. She'd want me to pull myself up and live. It's not easy but that's why you have us. To help you to your feet when the pain gets to be too much."

Ezra blinked rapidly, fighting back a fresh wave of tears.

"We can't replace the family you lost but we can be the family that you need." Kanan said. 

Hera smiled over at him brightly as she continued to hold Ezra. It wasn’t the first time the word family had be brought up between them, in the hushed quiet of the night, whispered between sheets. They weren’t talking about the family they had now but of something else, a child of their own. It wasn’t the right time for that now but maybe...maybe one day.

Ezra’s stomach grumbled loudly, pulling Kanan from his thoughts.

"Why don't you eat this instead of picking at it?" Kanan pushed Ezra's plate of waffles closer to him as he sat up. He dug into the food with more interest than before, devouring the whole plate in a few quick bites.

"So did you two have this whole intervention planned out or was it a spur of the moment kind of thing?" Ezra asked, licking syrup off of his fingers.

Kanan lifted a shoulder. "Eh, you know us."

"I do know you which means you've probably had this planned since we left Lothal."

"Maybe." Hera swiped a stray piece of waffle off of the plate and popped into her mouth along with a slice of meiloorun. "Maybe we didn't. I guess you'll never know."

“You guys are dorks.” Ezra rolled his eyes.

Kanan dragged his knuckles over the top of Ezra head. “Yeah but so are you so I guess you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Hera chuckled, turning her attention to the fruit before her. Maybe one day, Kanan thought. He’d like to have a child of his own but the ones that he’s got right now? He wouldn’t trade them for anything.

[iknowwhattosaynow]

So if Hera is leaving Yavin before the Battle of Yavin actually started, her crazy pregnant ass went to fight over Scarif, flew back to Yavin, sat in on a counsel meeting knowing that everything was going to hell, and then apparently left Yavin just before the Battle of Yavin which means if the wookieepedia crap on Jacen is right with is 0 BBY birthdate, the kid was actually born what? On the day that the actual Battle of Yavin took place? (The whole timey-wimey wibbly-wobbly thing with 0 BBY, 1 ABY blah blah blah. Like if it's a 0 year, do they count the *entire* year? Look, I just need to know exactly when and where the greenbean was born and who with Hera besides Kanan who was definitely still alive.)

-The Odyssey of Star Wars: An Epic Poem by Jack Mitchell

Surprisingly, this is the best information we have about where Hera was during ANH. FACPOV didn't explain it, while it filled in every other plot question one might have, likely because Rebels wasn't finished yet when it came out and so the author wouldn't be able to confirm anyone else's fates. Now the book isn't fully canon, it references things from Legends that don't work in the new EU- like the Shatterpoint novel. It also changes what happens in the original trilogy to better fit the prequels. Shmi's gave isn't buried, and Luke knows it's the grave of his grandmother. Yoda summarizes the prequels to Luke on Degobah. Some character motivations are also changed to make it more like Greek epics- Luke has a life debt to Han and Luke doesn't want to kill Vader because of the patricide taboo.

However, without another more canon source, I say we can use this to explain where all the extra ships and personel that appeared in Rogue One were during ANH. It would be consistent with FACPOV, which does have a story about Mon Mothma leaving Yavin 4 right before the battle.

[yubsie]

Or the Order Will Come to You Chapter 1

Summary:   Kanan just wants to prepare for fatherhood while Hera fights to change the galaxy. Too bad the Force keeps bashing him over the head with reminders that the galaxy still needs Jedi.

Pairing: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla

Rating: T

Notes: I decided that instead of writing one shots it would be a good idea to do a whole elaborate “Kanan lives and starts a Jedi Order influenced by what he’s learned” AU. And by decided I of course mean I kept thinking of things I wanted to do

Hera waited for the victory party to be in full swing before drawing Kanan aside. The rest of the crew could carry on celebrating with the Lothal locals without supervision, and she’d promised him they had a lot to talk about.

Zeb shot them a knowing look when they slipped away, but he wasn’t as knowing as he thought.

It took a bit of walking before they found an actual quiet place where they could sit together. Kanan wrapped his arms around her waist as she leaned back against his chest. The galaxy was less daunting when she curled up to him, even if she had no idea how they were going to manage half of this. “You know they all think we’ve snuck off to...”

Kanan smirked. “Make babies?”

She laughed and relaxed just a little. “Yeah, something like that.”

“So. What are we going to do?”

Continue on AO3

[iknowwhattosaynow]

This is why I live in my corner of that fandom.

That and the incredible amount of smut I can produce because of them. Also. Kanan isn't dead. He's in hiding.

hera and kanan are one of my absolute favourite ships ever :) like you’ve got grumpy and sunshine, friends to lovers, old married couple vibes and death trope !! what more could you want

[iknowwhattosaynow]

When she tells him, it’s not in the dark of night or in a moment of poignance. She’d been waiting to tell him until it was a good time or the right time but then time slowed and she almost lost him. The flames were lapping at their gunship, the explosion threatened to consume them all – and he would have never known because she had been waiting for the moment to present itself.

[bedlamsbard]

Part 8 of the other side AU! No, this isn’t the final section; at this point I’m afraid to say that there’s one more since I think I’ve said that the last three times.

Previous: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

6.8K below the break. Please note that I don’t warn.

***

“Kanan.”

His smile when he raised his head to her was automatic, lingering on his lips before he seemed to grasp the seriousness of her tone.

He was so handsome it took her breath away, and he was here, he was here.  Hera flattened her palms against the door behind her and said his name again, just for the sake of saying it and not immediately wanting to weep. “Kanan,” she breathed.

He took a step towards her, reaching for her hands before stopping when she didn’t reach back. “What is it?”

Hera had spent the day with the other Hera and her family, which had been just as odd an experience as the previous day’s – just as emotionally fraught, because her little cousin Xiaan had been there too, and the last time Hera had spoken to Xiaan she had just moved into her new dormitory at the University of Alderaan, with a few of their cousins along to visit.  All of them had been there when the Death Star had destroyed the planet. Not here, she thought.  That won’t happen here.  She was certain of that now.  Bail Organa had the Death Star plans, and the circumstances meant that Xiaan Syndulla wouldn’t be going to university anytime in the foreseeable future.  What had happened to Doriah and Xiaan – and presumably to the rest of her missing first cousins – in this universe was terrible, but at least they were still here and alive.  She understood why Doriah had been so upset to hear that she had a half-human child, too.

She looked up at that child’s father and smiled, drinking in the sight of him.  He was beautiful, still the most handsome man she had ever seen even with his younger counterpart to compare him with.  “I love you,” she said..

Kanan smiled a little, crookedly. “I love you too.”

“Will you go to bed with me?”

He curved his palm gently against her cheek, and Hera smiled up at him.  His hand was big, and warm, and very alive, the calluses from lightsaber and blaster use still half-familiar after all these years. “Yes,” he said gently, and kissed her.

Hera put her arms around his neck as she kissed him back. “I haven’t done this for a very long time,” she murmured.

“None of those rebel heroes wanted to comfort a beautiful widow?” Kanan asked, only a very slight hint of strain in his voice.

“Well, Lando Calrissian offered,” Hera said, and had to laugh a little at the expression on Kanan’s face.  She kissed him again and said, “You know I’ve never been interested in anyone except you.”

Which was why it had been so much of a shock the first time.  There had been people that Hera had found attractive, but even years later Kanan was still the only person, male, female, or any other gender, that she had ever wanted enough to act on it.

Kanan kissed her again, the stubble on his jaw scraping against her skin.  Hera kissed him back, trying to get her jacket off at the same time and mostly just succeeding at getting her arms caught in the sleeves. “Wait –”

She stepped back until she could untangle herself from her jacket and hang it up.  She took her gunbelt off after that, even though the holster was empty since the other Hera and Kanan still hadn’t returned her blaster and Hera hadn’t had a reason to ask.

“I could have terrible scars,” she said slyly, and saw Kanan raise an eyebrow.

“I’ve told you to stop crashing starfighters.”

“I’ve never crashed that many,” Hera said. “I mostly don’t fly combat anymore – I command shipside.”  She shrugged as Kanan raised an eyebrow. “I also ran one of the pilot training centers for a while, when I went back to duty after Jacen was born, so I wouldn’t be in combat.”  She hesitated for a moment, uncertain if Kanan would take offense at the fact that she had gone back to duty at all after having a child, but all he did was nod.

“Well, I hope you weren’t crashing those ships.”

Hera laughed and stepped up to kiss him again. “I wasn’t the one crashing ships.  I had to keep taking over them on remote because some of those recruits had a little more enthusiasm than skill.”

“Mmm, sounds like someone I know.”

“You had better be talking about someone who wasn’t planning on taking her clothes off in the next five minutes,” Hera teased.

He winked solemnly at her. “I know a lot of bad pilots, but none of them are in this room.”

“Modest, aren’t we?” Hera caught his hands in hers and guided them to her waist. “Speaking of taking my clothes off…”

He grinned and kissed her again, tugging her shirttails free of her pants. “Well, if you’re going to be pushy about it, I guess I could help.”

Hera shivered a little as his fingers skated over her bared skin.  She didn’t hate being touched the way she could tell the other Hera did, but she wasn’t accustomed to it anymore either.  As it happened Lando had propositioned her, using almost that exact phrasing, but it had been good-natured and no more than half-serious.  He would have taken her up on it if she had said yes, but hadn’t been bothered that she had said no, just gotten her a drink and talked with her about some ideas he had for adapting pod-racing to Bespin before Han and Leia had called him away with a better offer.

She put her hands up to cup around Kanan’s face as he started to bend his head to her shoulder, smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones.  He raised his head to her, smiling, and Hera said, “I love you.  You – you believe me, don’t you?”

Kanan laid his hand alongside her cheek and said gravely, “I always knew.”

Hera shut her eyes, then opened them again because she couldn’t bear to not be looking at him as long as he was here. “I made a mistake, not telling you before.”

“Hera –”

“I love you,” she said again. “I need you to know that, Kanan, I love you, I love you, I love –”

He kissed her. “I know,” he said against her mouth, the words humming against her lips. “I always knew. I’m sorry if I made you think I didn’t.”

Hera was crying softly; she wasn’t even aware of starting, just that there were tears running silently down her cheeks and dripping off her chin. “I’m love you, I’m sorry, I love you –”

Kanan kissed her again, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. “I know,” he murmured, “I always knew.  It’s all right, Hera, I’m here now.  It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter,” she said furiously.  She touched his face gently, reassuring herself that he was real, then put her arms around his neck again and drew him close to her. “I made you doubt me,” she said, low-voiced. “And then I never had a chance to make it up. I had to live with that.”

“I never doubted you,” Kanan told her. “Hera, I love you.  I just –”  He hesitated. “I don’t know what I wanted.  I knew something was coming, and I didn’t know what it was, and I was afraid.”

“You knew we were running out of time.”

“No.  Yes.  No – I don’t know.  It doesn’t work like that.”  He tipped his forehead down against hers.  “I’m here now.  You did that. You did that.”

Hera folded her fingers against the back of his neck, shuddering, and whispered, “You’re here,” uncertain if she was trying to convince herself or telling Kanan a simple fact.

“I’m here,” he told her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise me,” Hera said, but shut her eyes, because she knew from his moment of hesitation that he couldn’t promise her that any more than she could promise him. “No, I know,” she corrected herself.   This had been a nice vacation from reality – literally – but she was going back into a war and she was taking Kanan with her.  And both of them knew exactly what that meant.

He kissed her gently. “I’m here now,” he repeated.

 “I used to dream about you,” Hera whispered.

“You’ve got me.”  He ran his thumb gently over the line of her cheek, brushing the tears away. “I’m here.”

Hera kissed him again. They were pressed so closely together that she could feel his heartbeat, and he was very warm and very alive in her arms. “I love you,” she whispered. “Will you take me to bed, please?”

“Yes.”  He smiled down at her, then kissed her again as he dropped his hands to the front of her shirt.

Hera shifted back a little so that they had more maneuvering room and let go of him so that getting undressed would be slightly less complicated than staying tangled up together would be.  She watched him as he undid the fastening on her shirt, shivering at the slight roughness of his callused fingers against her skin, and again as he drew his hands deliberately up across her stomach to her breasts.  She was wearing her own bra, but had borrowed the shirt she was wearing from the other Hera in lieu of having brought a change of clothing; it hadn’t been on the list of things anyone had thought about back when they were planning this op.

“I remember this,” he said, his breath warm against her ear.

“I’d hope so, since for you it’s only been about a week and it wasn’t like you didn’t have a lot of experience with them before,” Hera said, grinning despite herself.  She helped him get her shirt off, then unclasp her bra, which he did with what she considered a reasonable and enjoyable amount of generous groping. She kissed him in exchange for that, one arm looped around his neck, then laid her hands against the front of his borrowed shirt and smiled at him. “My turn.”

He grinned back at her.

His shirt was easier to get off than hers had been, and once Hera had stripped him out of it they spent a few more minutes kissing before they got down to the serious business of getting the rest of their clothes off.

Hera shifted a little uneasily once she was standing naked in front of him, both a little relieved and a little disappointed that he couldn’t see her.  He couldn’t see the jagged scar that cut across the outside of her right thigh and halfway down to her knee, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t know it was there, and he –

“You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” she told him, resisting the urge to lick her lips. “Even with the hair,” she added gravely. “Between you and your – your counterpart, it’s growing on me.”

“Is his short too?”  Kanan arched an eyebrow, amused. “Well, don’t expect it to stick around unless you want to help me keep it trimmed.”

“Anything to keep you from cutting it yourself again,” Hera said.  She reached for his hands, shy, and then hesitated.  It might have been only a few days for Kanan, but it had been six years for her.

Kanan stepped close to her, smiling, and Hera raised her face to him.  He kissed her, lipping her mouth open slowly as Hera put an arm around his shoulders, feeling the muscles of his back flex beneath her palm.  She shivered as he moved his mouth from hers to press a kiss to her jaw, then down the line of her throat.  He put his hands against her waist to brace himself as he kissed his way down her collar bone, lingering on each breast and making her shudder before he continued downwards.  He sank to his knees with boneless grace, his mouth still moving over her skin as Hera laced her fingers across the back of his skull, his cropped hair soft against her palms.

He kissed the faint, nearly-faded stretch marks on her belly, then the sharp edge of each hip bone. His hands brushed across her thighs, then paused on the scar.  His white eyes shone through what Hera had always thought were absurdly long lashes for a man as he raised his head to her.

“What happened here?”

It took Hera a moment to remember how to speak. “My starfighter got shot up,” she admitted. “They had to cut me out of my X-wing.”

“I told you to stop crashing ships,” Kanan said gravely.

“It wasn’t a crash –” she started to say, then gasped as Kanan moved his mouth to the wet heat between her thighs.  When Kanan finally leaned back, grinning, his mouth shining, Hera had to force herself to unclench her fingers, shuddering.

“I didn’t crash,” she managed to say. “I was teaching.  One of my students shot me down.  By accident.”

Kanan’s eyebrows climbed. “Even the Phoenix Squadron newbies know to check which way their guns are pointed before they pull the trigger.”

Hera fought down her pang of regret at the mention of Phoenix Squadron and tugged him to his feet, pulling him into another lingering kiss. “Lots of new recruits after Alderaan and Yavin,” she said after she drew back, breathing hard. “Not everyone has combat training, you know.”

He kissed her back. “Live rounds in training, though?”

“That goes for the mechanics too, but the cadets were supposed to be shooting at targets.  That weren’t me.”

“I’d hope not.”   He wrapped an arm around her waist and took another deep kiss from her as Hera put her arms around his neck.  She felt pleasantly shivery in his arms, but nowhere near satisfied, not yet.  She pressed her hips meaningfully against his, catching her lower lip briefly between her teeth as Kanan moved his hand down from her waist.

“For the record,” Hera breathed against his mouth, “I’m not having sex on the floor when there’s a perfectly good bed, even if we have to go up a ladder to get to it.”

Kanan grinned, kissed her again, then drew back enough to take her hand in his.  He led Hera across the small room to the bunk; Hera tried not to watch his backside in case she forgot what she had said two seconds ago and had him on the floor.

They went up the ladder with a great deal of giggling, kissing, and enough good-natured groping that Hera was gasping when she landed on her back on the narrow bunk.  She put an arm around Kanan’s shoulders and pulled him down for another kiss.  Kanan braced himself between her thighs, kissing her back.

“I missed you,” Hera said softly against his mouth.  She needed him like she needed to breathe, shifting her hips as she tried to urge him to stop teasing her and get inside her.  But she needed him to know this, too. She couldn’t tell him enough times. “I love you.”

She felt his lips curve in a smile against hers.  “I love you too,” he murmured.

He curved a hand around each thigh and Hera hissed through her teeth, reaching down between them to help him one-handed.  She felt rather than heard her low groan as he pressed into her, digging her nails into the hard muscle of his back.  It had been a long time.

Kanan dropped his forehead briefly to her shoulder, breathing hard.  For a few moments, neither of them moved, overwhelmed, then Kanan whispered, “All right?”

Hera shifted her hips a little and felt him breathe in sharply. “Yes,” she said, “yes – better than all right.”

He turned his head, meaning to kiss her neck.  Hera caught his mouth with hers, hooking one foot over the back of his ankle as she did.

“Come on,” she gasped as they began to move together. “Come on, love –”

Her whole body was sensation.  She let her attention still from its usual restless inventory of facts and figures, tactics and personnel, to nothing more than Kanan and his body against hers.  He was a revelation, and she sank into him.

*

“I missed this,” Hera mumbled against Kanan’s neck sometime later.  She felt too loose and relaxed to even raise her head enough to look at him, just let the words hum against his skin as he stroked a hand across the small of her back.  She knew it didn’t matter whether or not he could hear them; he would know what she said anyway. “I missed you.”

“I love you too,” Kanan said.  He sounded sleepy, but his voice was clear.  His thumb moved in soothing circles across her skin, making Hera sigh with pleasure.

She could hear his heartbeat, feel his chest moving up and down with every breath.  He felt solidly real, alive and beloved and there. “Kanan,” she said softly, just to feel his name in her mouth and know he would respond.

“Mmm?”

“Marry me.”  It wasn’t what she had meant to say, but the words came out anyway.  She pushed herself up on an elbow as Kanan went still, watching his face with a sudden start of panic that washed away her weariness.

He put a hand on her elbow to reassure her. “We’ve never talked about that,” he said, his voice quiet. He didn’t add that the last few times they had seen each other, he had been trying to convince her to talk about their relationship, though marriage had never come up.

Six years for her, a few weeks for him, Hera remembered, not for the first time.  She sat up the rest of the way – it felt important to be sitting up for this conversation.  Kanan pushed himself up too, taking her hands in his.

“Do you want to be married?” he asked her.

“Yes,” Hera said, though she took a minute to think about it first.  Not about whether she meant it or not, because she did, but she knew Kanan wouldn’t appreciate a quick answer, not after the way they had left things six years ago.  She squeezed his hands and said, “I love you.  I want to be with you.  I want to raise our child with you.  Besides, the Alliance – the New Republic – has tax benefits for registered domestic partners.”

Kanan blinked. “Tax benefits?  Since when do we pay –”

“New Republic, love, not just the Rebel Alliance anymore.”

He sighed. “That’s a real government, isn’t it.”

“That was the point of the whole rebellion,” she pointed out, her mouth quirking.  She leaned forward and kissed him softly.  “There’s a veteran’s pension too.”

“There are a lot of things that have changed.”

“A lot of things.  Not everything.”

“No,” he agreed.  He kissed her back, his mouth warm against hers. “Not everything.”

“I want to marry you,” Hera said again. “I want to be married to you.  If – if you want –”

“Yes,” Kanan said.  He kissed her again. “Yes.”

Hera put her arms around his neck.  They went back down onto the bed together, Hera pressing Kanan down into the mattress as he smiled up at her.  She kissed his mouth and murmured, “Do not knock me up again, I don’t have time to be pregnant right now.”

“All right,” he agreed gravely.

She smiled and kissed him again, running her hands down his bare chest.  Kanan put an arm around her waist, flattening his palm against the small of her back.

“I love you,” Hera said again, the words humming against his lips. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

*

The next few days, waiting until they could return back to their own universe, were the closest Hera had come to a vacation in years.  Even on her infrequent trips back to Lothal or Ryloth to see her son Hera was working, going over reports or on holocalls with other members of the Rebel Alliance. She couldn’t do any of that here except make lists that might or might not be relevant for this universe.  She spent more time than she cared to admit in bed with Kanan, sometimes making love and sometimes just talking.  It was very good to have someone she could just talk to again; as a flag officer she couldn’t confide in her subordinates and seldom had anyone else of her own rank around.  While Zeb was sometimes around, mostly her old crew was somewhere else and Hera couldn’t talk to them just because she felt lonely.  Kanan knew her – maybe he didn’t know her now, but he had known her then, and he was learning fast.

The Syndulla’s Gamble left for several rotations – Hera got the impression that they couldn’t be away from the Free Ryloth fleet for very long – then returned.  Hera was able to introduce Kanan to both her parents, an experience that made her sheepishly nervous.  They weren’t her parents, not really, but they were at the same time, and she wanted them to like Kanan and Kanan to like them.  She was cautiously optimistic afterwards that it had gone well.  Even if this Alecto Syndulla wasn’t her mother, she wanted her to like Kanan.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been so easy for her to relax considering the circumstances, but Hera had been in the war long enough and seen enough things – both strange and terrible – that now that the initial shock had worn off, she couldn’t bring herself to be much bothered.  The other Hera and Kanan were pleasant enough, even if they both made Hera feel terribly old, and…she had Kanan.  That was what she had wanted for a long time, and having him now was almost more than she could comprehend.

*

Their next to last night on the Ghost, the other Kanan woke them all up.  Kanan felt the edges of the younger man’s nightmare bleeding into his own dreams, a welter of pain and terror and the durasteel strength of the Grand Inquisitor, and dragged himself to wakefulness a full minute before the other man started screaming.

Hera jerked awake beside him.  Kanan forgot what bed he was in and fell the six feet from the top bunk to the floor, catching himself in a crouch that jarred every bone in his body and made him bite through his own lip.  He stumbled out of the cabin and had a moment of blank confusion as he tried to remember which room he was in and which room the screaming was coming from.  For a moment past and present seemed to blur together, the veil between universes slipping as he reached out with the Force to steady himself.  He heard conversation from the direction of the common room, Zeb and Sabine teasing Ezra with Chopper’s occasional interjections, and smelled the familiar acridity of fresh paint from the room behind him – Sabine’s room.  He shook his head and it was gone again; he crossed the hall and went one cabin over.

The other Kanan had already stopped screaming by the time the door slid open for him.  He was curled into a knot on the far side of his bunk, his Hera leaning over him; she looked up as Kanan came in, but he didn’t. He felt her hesitate as he came towards him, then she scrambled off the bunk so that he could crouch down beside it. He was vaguely aware of Hera following him in, drawing the other woman aside.

Kanan could hear the younger man weeping, nearly soundless.  He reached out with the Force before he followed through with an outstretched hand, feeling the other Kanan flinch away from him in both body and mind. For a moment he felt the other Kanan’s blind panic threatening to drag him down into his nightmare, the real world starting to fray away around him, then he drove himself down deep into the Force. He cast his mind out for an anchor, starting to reach for Hera before he sensed something else instead, something that would work better for this sort of thing.  Kanan let the solid, familiar strength of the holocron hidden beneath the bed anchor him, distantly noting that to his senses it felt the same as his own had.  Exactly the same, as if somehow the two were one as far as the Force was concerned. Only when he was certain he wasn’t going to lose himself did he feed himself into the other Kanan’s nightmare.

The boy’s terrified mind seized on him with so much strength that Kanan felt his tie to the holocron stretch under the unexpected strain before it finally settled into the weight.

He opened his eyes to bright sunlight.

If he had been in control of his body the shock of being able to see again would have made him hesitate if only for an instant, but he was a passenger in someone else’s nightmare. He was aware at once of the ache of recently cracked ribs, healed enough that he could move without difficulty aside from the occasional painful twinge if he turned too fast or tried to bend over at all.  Pressure against his face took him by surprise, a hard mask covering nose and mask and sealing against the sides of his face; he felt the other Kanan’s weary familiarity and resignation, and the faint, constant pain where the edges wore away at his skin.

A hand closed on the back of his neck.  Kanan’s mind flinched away but not his body; he didn’t have to look up to know that it was the Grand Inquisitor’s – the Hunter’s – hand on him.  The Pau’an’s grip wasn’t hard enough to hurt, though all he would have had to do was squeeze and he could have shaken Kanan like a massiff with a pikobi.  He could tell from the boy’s distant, barely comprehending misery that the Hunter had done just that before.

The complicated tangle of the boy’s conflicting emotions made his stomach turn over.  There was hatred there, which Kanan had been braced for; there was also love, which he hadn’t been.  He could sense the same ties of apprentice to master that he had felt before, stronger now from proximity, and still so fresh that the psychic wounds made by their creation had barely scabbed over.

It took him a moment to realize that they were breathing together, the other Kanan’s breath unnaturally slow for a human, in time with the Pau’an beside him, his heartbeat slowing to match his master’s.  When the Hunter raised his head, Kanan looked too – not a beat behind, but at the exact same moment.

They were standing at the edge of a broad purplish-green expanse of manicured lawn.  There was a big mansion behind them, but the two Inquisitors’ attention was on the large pavilion set up at the center of the lawn. The distant sounds of conversation, laughter, and music came from the pavilion.

The Hunter released him.

Any relief that Kanan might have felt was lost in the wave of bloodlust that went through him.  He could tell, just barely, that it was external rather than internal; it felt a little like what he had read about what the Jedi called pack instinct, though usually that only appeared when there were a dozen or more Jedi – or Force-users, he supposed – intent on the same goal.  He couldn’t tell if the boy was aware that it came from the Hunter rather than from inside himself; he couldn’t tell if the other Kanan cared.  He supposed at this point it didn’t make a difference.

As the two Inquisitors started across the lawn, moving with the smooth, inhuman grace of trained Force-users, it struck him that it was entirely possible that that moment of bloodlust had only been a part of the other Kanan’s nightmare, not his memory.

They were at the entrance to the pavilion before anyone realized they were there.  It was a trick that Kanan had never learned the knack of, a way of using the Force to suggest to any observers that what was seen was only what was expected.  To the guards positioned outside the pavilion – their rich livery suggesting they were the private bodyguards of whoever owned the mansion behind them – it must have appeared as if the two Inquisitors had appeared out of thin air.

Kanan flung a hand aside, sending the two nearest guards flying as they started to reach for their weapons.  He and the Hunter were moving in perfect lock-step as they entered the pavilion, the nearest occupants only just starting to turn and stare at them.

He wasn’t even aware of reaching for the lightsaber on his belt, just that it was suddenly in his hand, the gleaming red blade springing up before his eyes.  The Hunter had his in hand as well.

Kanan had already known how fast a single Jedi, never mind two, could go through a troop of battle droids. He had never thought to wonder if a Jedi – a trained Force-user – could do the same through other human beings.

He found that out now.

He could feel the younger Kanan’s mind flinching away from the nightmare, from the memory.  If he could have closed his eyes, he would have, but the boy had seen exactly what he had done, and Kanan did too.  Real or imagined, the boy was trying to lose himself in the killing, to numb himself enough to stop thinking about it and just go on with it.  Kanan was aware in a vague kind of way that it wasn’t the first time he had done something like this, nor would it be the last.

He flexed mental claws as if digging his feet into Lothal’s rich earth, feeling the strain of the holocron binding him to the real world.  The kid was strong in the Force, as strong as Kanan – obviously, and his control slipped for an instant as he reminded himself of that.  It wasn’t strength versus strength; it was the blind, panicked terror of the kid’s nightmares versus Kanan’s greater experience and control.

The kid fought him with the terror-strength of a cornered animal.  The abattoir dissolved around them as the boy’s mental claws raked him, a hound’s teeth snapping before Kanan slapped him down with one paw in reflexive defense.  He was only half aware of having taken this form in the Force, fitting himself into paws and claws and teeth so he wouldn’t be distracted by the knowledge of his own physical body.  The kid had done the same, reflexive; shadowed and smaller than Kanan but with the air of a creature that would chew off its own limb to get out of a trap.

They tumbled through the Force, a half-acknowledged welter of memories and nightmares – mostly the kid’s, though he was aware of the shared horror of Order 66, of his friend Stance’s death, of being lost in the living dark beneath the Jedi Temple as a youngling.  The other Kanan fled him, and Kanan might have let him go if they hadn’t already been tangled up in each other, so that he dragged Kanan behind him into the dark even as Kanan tried to free them both.  His tie to the holocron flexed, but held; he was vaguely aware of Hera’s hands on his shoulders in the waking world before the kid caught him in what might have been a killing grip in the real world, his hound’s teeth closing on the back of Kanan’s neck, and they fell out of the Force into another nightmare.

Literally fell.  The back of Kanan’s head connected with a hard surface beneath him, making his skull ring.  He was half-aware of his counterpart fading into the waking nightmare of the memory, leaving him a passenger again.

He was so frightened.

Not him, he realized a moment later, but the boy – a little younger, with a splinted wrist, a bruised eye swollen nearly closed, and a newly split lip.  Other injuries too, half-healed wounds, none more severe than the wrist in its splint. He flinched as a black-gloved hand closed around his throat and dragged him to his feet – really flinched, not just the reflexive mental flinch from before.

“Again,” said the Grand Inquisitor, releasing him.

Kanan took a staggered step back, rubbing at his bruised throat, but put his good hand out anyway and called his fallen lightsaber into it.  It was an Inquisitor’s lightsaber, double-ended and with a curved half-moon guard. He must not have had it long; the kyber crystals in it hadn’t attuned to him yet.

The Grand Inquisitor – the Hunter, here – watched him with what might have been a smile on his pale features.  Kanan wouldn’t look at him straight on, keeping his gaze slightly averted as he ignited one blade of the lightsaber and brought it up before him in a guard position.

The Hunter already had his lightsaber in hand, the blades deactivated at the moment.  Kanan watched him through his good eye as he prowled sideways, the back of his neck tickling. He didn’t reach for the Force, no more than the subconscious knowledge of it that every Force-sensitive had, but that failed him this time; he turned to parry a blow that never came and the Hunter backhanded him hard enough to split his lip open again.  Kanan staggered backwards, his mouth full of his own blood.

The Hunter caught him by the chin before he could recover, fingers digging into his skin.  Kanan swallowed reflexively, gagging on blood, but all of his attention was on the Hunter’s cool yellow eyes.  The confusing tangle of emotions that Kanan had felt in the boy earlier wasn’t there yet, not in full; the kid was terrified of him and hated him despite his best attempts not to fall prey to that, and there was a burgeoning hint of something that wasn’t love, not yet.  The connection was already there, the tie that bound master and apprentice, and the kid knew it with despairing certainty.

“You are the Force made flesh,” said the Hunter, his voice soft and dangerous, and Kanan flinched at every word. “You earned your lightsaber on that truth.  You gain nothing by denying it now.”

Kanan’s mouth worked silently.

The Pau’an looked at him for a long moment, his gaze boring into Kanan’s eyes, then he released him with a jerk. “Again,” he said.

The boy fumbled and nearly dropped his lightsaber, making the Hunter frown.  He was shaking so badly that there didn’t seem to be much point in fighting the Hunter, but he ignited the blade and brought the weapon up anyway.

The Hunter just looked at him for a moment, his expression suggesting further disappointment, then he moved his hand and the lightsaber slipped free of Kanan’s fingers before he realized what was happening.  Kanan flinched from him, wide-eyed, terror humming through his veins as the Hunter seized him again.

“A lightsaber is only a tool,” he said. “You are the weapon.  We are the weapons.”

In the nightmare if not in reality the other Kanan’s terror was overwhelming, blanking out his awareness of everything around him. The numbness that had come later wasn’t present yet; he was all raw nerve endings, the shadow of the dark side scraping against him whether or not he reached for the Force.  But already all of his attention was focused on the Hunter, his rapid, shallow breathing starting to slow to match the Hunter’s, his heartbeat doing the same.  He wasn’t doing it consciously; Kanan was aware of the overwhelming pressure of the Hunter’s mind on his, forcing the master/padawan connection onto the open wounds left behind by Depa Billaba’s death.

Ezra, Kanan thought, with sharp, genuine fear that he felt reverberate down to the kid.  He had never thought of the shattered connections left behind after Master Billaba’s untimely death as a vulnerability, never thought of them at all in the face of the horror that the Force had been after the Purge.  Of course, he had never had anyone take advantage of it – had never even considered that that was a possibility. It was something only someone trained as a Jedi could or would have done.

The kid’s exhausted, all-encompassing terror was beginning to fade, too focused on the Hunter to sustain fear.  It had an almost soporific effect on Kanan; he grabbed for the Force and pulled, lashing out with mental claws.

The Hunter vanished as the younger Kanan turned on him, his panic back in full force.  Kanan reached for the holocron, meaning to drag them both back to reality, just as the boy flung himself at him.  They tumbled through the Force in a welter of bad dreams and memories, into Kanan’s own private nightmare.

Flame roared up around him, heat pressing in from all sides, and he heard Hera scream.

His mind went blank with panic that he was vaguely aware he hadn’t felt at the time.  He took one breath, two, heat searing his lungs –

– and the kid pulled him out.

Both of them hit the floor of the cabin, gasping for breath.  Kanan threw himself sideways immediately, feeling the other Kanan’s momentary reaction to Kanan’s weight on top of him.  His mind was still too scrambled from the succession of nightmares to concentrate on the Force; he heard rather than felt Hera scramble towards him, kneeling down beside him.  He turned his face into the smooth warmth of her thigh, gasping for breath as she flattened her palms against his back.

The sound was mirrored by the younger Kanan’s ragged gasping. “Don’t do that again,” the boy said when he had caught his breath.

“Sorry,” Kanan said; the words came out muffled against Hera’s skin.  He turned his head enough that he could speak clearly and repeated, “I’m sorry.  I thought that would go differently.”

“Not your fault,” the kid said, a little stiffly.

“Love?” Hera whispered, stroking a hand over the back of his neck. “Are you all right?”

“Give me a moment.” He turned his face back into her thigh, breathing in her familiar scent – nothing at all like the acrid smell of burning fuel or the coppery tang of blood.  He was vaguely aware of the other Hera doing the same with her Kanan, but didn’t make any attempt to listen.

“All right,” he said eventually, and let Hera help him up.  He drew the Force around himself as he did, sensing the other Kanan still kneeling on the floor with his face buried in his Hera’s shoulder.  Belatedly he released his tie to the holocron, and winced as he felt the boy flinch; he had sensed that. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Not half as sorry as I am.” The other Kanan’s voice was muffled. He felt Hera – the younger Hera – glare at him, and winced.

He didn’t bother telling either of them that he hadn’t expected that outcome, since that was self-evident and the boy could pluck it from his mind anyway.  He just folded his hand into Hera’s and left the cabin.

“Are you all right?” she asked him again once they were back in their own cabin with the door closed.

Kanan put his arms around her.  She was warm and very real, comfortingly alive in a way that made the rapid pounding of his heart slow – to human normal, not the slower pulse common to Pau’ans.

“Kanan?” she insisted when he didn’t say anything.

“Yeah,” he made himself say. “Yeah, I will be, I just need a moment.  I did something stupid.”

She guided him over to the bench below the bunk and sat down beside him.  He could still feel the other Kanan’s terror thrumming along his nerves and pushed it out of his awareness with a force of effort; it wasn’t his to know.

“You didn’t mean to.”

“That doesn’t make it less stupid.”  He pressed his face down into her shoulder, then kissed her neck just for the sake of feeling her pleasure in the Force.  It was clean, and honest, and utterly hers. “Sorry I woke you up.”

“The screaming woke me up.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Let’s go back to bed.  Unless you don’t want to?”

At the moment Kanan couldn’t think of anything better than curling up in bed with Hera in his arms, especially with a closed door shutting them off from the rest of the world.  He kissed her neck again, then followed stood up and nearly brained himself on the top bunk.  His body still felt not quite his own; he could feel his eyes straining to see in a way he hadn’t done in years.  Phantom pain from injuries he had never suffered made him wince and Hera turn towards him, radiating worry.

“I’m fine,” he told her.

“Mm-hmm.”  She cupped her hands around his face, studying him, then kissed him quickly. “Come on and sleep it off, love.”

[sharkbait-writes]

Nightmares were nothing new for Kanan. With his kind of life, it would’ve surprised him if he didn’t had any.

But that still did not sooth the hurt he woke up with every time.

Kanan went through a lot to get where he was today. Gained so many friends and family but lost so many as well.

Lost so many because of his own family members.

Meeting those clones a few days ago didn’t help with those facts, especially once they started explaining how and why everything went down. Kanan still finds it hard to believe.

So, he locked himself in his room and looked at the ceiling, wishing -hoping- not to fall asleep and get nightmares.

But with his kind of life, he knew that wasn’t possible.

Looking around, Kanan found himself somewhere surrounded by fog. It didn’t let him see further than a few feet in front of him and the ground not seen at all. Otherwise there was nothing. Nothing else to see, nothing to feel and nothing to hear.

“Caleb?”, and then the voices started. They all sounded the same.

“Caleb?”

“Caleb?”

“Caleb?”

“Cale-“

They got louder and louder until, suddenly, there was silence.

Then a small “Caleb?” sounded and a body was appearing in front of him. It took the shape of a man, someone Kanan knew too well.

“Stance.”

Stance took a step forward, his hand stretching out to reach Kanan. But Kanan stayed where he was, looking just a big to the right of Stance’s face.

It was still close enough for him to see his confused face contorting into another one, one with the same bone structure, same eyes and hair color, but with the smallest of differences.

“Caleb.”

Then the faces continued on. Kanan saw Big-Mouth, Soot, Mixx, Kaylon, Remo and so many other clones he once dared to call his family until all their faces blurred together.

“Caleb.”

His name was said repeatedly, coming from all sides, drilling into his mind and screaming at him. Kanan held his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block it out. But it didn’t work, and he sank to his knees.

“Stop. Please just stop”, he sobbed.

And miraculously, they complied.

Kanan found himself in silence again, his shuddering breaths and sobs his only companion. His forehead was touching the ground in front of him and his tears leaked in streams down his cheeks and onto the ground, small puddles forming there.

Thinking he was alone, it caught him of guard when he felt another presence. Instantly he was on his feet, hands where his lightsaber should be, but wasn’t.

“Caleb.”

Styles.

“Caleb. Why did you kill us? Why? What did we do?”

Silence.

“What did we DO, CALEB? TELL ME!”

But Kanan couldn’t answer, his tongue stuck to his mouth’s ceiling, his jaw stubbornly clenched. He took on a defensive stance, wishing he had his lightsaber with him in this nightmare.

“TELL ME! WHY DID YOU KILL US? WHY?”

“YOU KILLED MY MASTER!”, it burst out of him, years of anger and despair and not understanding finally crashing down. “YOU KILLED MASTER DEPA!”

“Did we?”, after all the screaming, it caught Kanan of guard when Styles suddenly spoke in his normal tone. Styles had never screamed at him out of anger, never when he had been alive. It only started once he was in exitus.

“Did we really? You know the truth now. We did it against our will, we couldn’t do anything against it. You say murdering all of us was right for an action we did that we had no control over?”

“Shut up.”

“What was that?”

“I said, shut UP!”

“Oh, you want me to shut up? You want me to? Now, when I can finally tell you the truth? Now, when you finally know the truth? YOU WANT ME TO SHUT UP? SHUT UP AGAINST AN UNJUST CRIME? SHUT UP WHEN IT’S YOU, WHO ACTS LIKE A CHILD, WHEN YOU AREN’T ONE ANYMORE? SHUT UP? OH, I WILL-“

“Shut up, please”, Kanan’s whimper was once again the only thing stopping complete silence.

Where Style’s outstretched hand has been going for Kanan’s head, remained now only a whisper and a shadow, the shadow dissolving with an unfelt gust of wind. As did Kanan’s tears dry.

The wind shifted around him, the whispers intruding his mind, words of stories letting him see pictures.

“Caleb”, the name was said with easily interpreted care and love, but so much guilt and hesitation. It felt almost parental -it was parental. A hesitating hand was laid on his dipped head, it was big and calloused, but so warm and familiar.

Kanan couldn’t forget the gruff but caring tone, it was impossible to.

He held in a sob, wanting to hear what the voice clearly wanted to say.

“I’m so sorry. Force, I am so sorry”, the guilt in the voice almost made Kanan look up. Almost.

“Nothing I could say to you would ever make up for what we made you go through, what I made you go through. And I am so, so terribly sorry. I won’t make any excuses and I won’t expect you to forgive me or anyone else”, Kanan only glanced to the side.

“I am so sorry and I’ll never forgive myself. I should have stopped us sooner”, at that, Kanan finally looked up into the scarred face of the clone in front of him.

“Caleb. I just need you to know, that -even with everything you did and had to go through- I am so proud of you. You are so strong. And even with everything that happened to you, you still have the capacity to care, and more importantly, to love. You are a strong, kind and loving man, Caleb. And I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

In front of him, Kanan could see the clone starting to disappear. And it made Kanan start to panic.

It was purely the eyes of the man -so warm and familiar- that made Kanan feel young again, like at the beginning of his padawan years, in the clone wars. Made him feel loved again, loved by figures in his life that were the closest he had to a family -to parents.

It was purely the face of the man -scarred, but welcoming- that made Kanan feel like a young child again, needing comfort after one of the more gruesome battles.

It was purely the smile of the man -sad and small but understanding and comforting- that made Kanan feel the familiar feeling he had with his family in the war, the fun and sad times.

It was purely the hand of the man -protective and parental- that made Kanan feel save again, forgetting about all the cruel things that happened in his life.

It was purely the man kneeling in front of him -fatherly, but so, so guilty- that made Kanan yearn for simpler times and Caleb want to have his family back and out of despair, cling to the armored back of the clone.

The hand moved from the top of his head to cradling his nape, strong fingers pulling his head closer to the others until their foreheads touched.

Kanan closed his eyes, letting his feelings flow through his body.

Even if he wished and hoped for it to not happen, the body of the man still started to disintegrate. As much as holding on tighter would have stopped him from leaving if his body were physical, the body wasn’t real.

But maybe -if Caleb thought hard enough about it- maybe he could stop it for a short time, make it take longer.

The forehead against his moved away and the lips that took it’s placed whispered a “I’m so sorry, ner’ad”, against his forehead.

That was when Kanan felt it. It being the hands of his family. His master’s arms around him, his grandmasters and Styles’ hand on his shoulder, other clones surrounding them. Whispers of “I’m sorry” floating around him until all he could feel was the dissolving imprint of a fatherly kiss on his forehead and the embrace of a mother.

It crawled over his skin, intruding through his pores, drilling into his mind, showing him pictures. Pictures of a bridge of an eerily familiar gozanti-class cruiser. Of two familiar clones arguing, one of them then turning around to argue with the troopers piloting the ship. The other standing back, even when he was clearly the higher-up. Of an uncertain look to his side, quickly turning to steal. Of quick strides and taking a weapon into his hands. Of one single shot. Of a resigned face. Of a familiar explosion.

And Caleb cried. The explosion as a single gust of wind whisked next to Kanan away, his hair lifting and clothes ruffling. His tears drying. But Caleb cried in the silence of his dream.

And while it changed nothing for Kanan, for Caleb, it changed everything.

[iknowwhattosaynow]

Thank you, Yubsie. Why is Kanan alive? Because SHUT UP that’s why

i love how there's the genre of fix-it fic where the author goes into great granular detail of how our heroes manage to avoid or undo whatever character death or other unpopular choice occurred, in a way that abides by the laws of the fictional universe and definitely required a substantial plot outline, and then there are fix-it fics where the author just went "that's bullshit and didn't happen," and we as readers all go "agreed. carry on."

[oceanera12]

Star Wars Pizza AU

You read that right. In my defense, I saw a post about someone ordering pizza and their order was number 66. I decided to read the comments for a laugh. And then my brain exploded. Whoops.

Dominos (aka the Clones)

The franchise was technically bought by the owner of Little Senators years ago, but no one knows about that except the original owners (*cough cough* The Kamino family *cough cough*) who pretend they’re still in charge for a large hunk of money (ILLEGALLY)

Their best store (the one that makes the most money and has the best reviews) is in the city named after the Kamino’s (Kamino) and is run and operated by a different family, the “Fetts” (and no one is sure how it is legal, but so far no one’s gotten sued so...)

It’s a joke that the “Fetts” will run out of workers at some point but so far it hasn’t happened.

Also, weirdly enough, all of the employees are boys and look a lot alike

The manager’s name is Cody. He’s very strict on the dress code, very fair to the customers, and loves his job.

His brother, Fox, manages another Dominos across town and the two of them will often team up on especially large orders and hold a (friendly) yearly competition between the two stores (Cody’s team has won the last three years, something he will bring up whenever he can)

They have another brother, Wolffe, who manages another store as well, but he’s across the country so they don’t see him as much.

All three were taught how to make pizza, run the storefront, etc, by their grandfather (Ninety-Nine), who passed away a few years back. Their grandfather was one of the original managers during the franchises’ early years

Rex is the younger brother of Cody and acts as an assistant manager to him. Rex hopes to be promoted one day but he’s happy where he is right now.

Boil and Waxer (the cousins) are the best chefs they have. The kitchen is filled with bickering and teasing with flying dough and toppings but everything comes out perfectly (somehow).

Kix and Jesse are the head delivery boys. They are in charge of training the newbies and take the furthest orders (Jesse is known to run the speed limit at one point going 90 down a 35. Kix knows the city like the back of his hand and knows all the short cuts)

Nicknamed, “The Domino Squad” (aka, the thing that started this AU idea), is Fives, Echo, Hevy, Droidbait, and Cutup. (Fives and Echo are twins, with Droidbait as a little bro while Hevy and Cutup are cousins of theirs. All are nephews to Rex and Cody) Cody and Rex quickly learned the five of them could handle the day shift all by themselves. (hence the nickname) 

Fives is excellent on the front end, taking orders and answering the phone with a friendly smile and pleasant attitude.

Echo is the best on the register, his mind able to add up the order and give back change very quickly and efficiently. He also keeps the orders straight and has never given anyone the wrong slip/pizza.

Hevy can run the kitchen on a busy shift with help from Cutup (who doubles as a janitor when needed).

Droidbait is one of their fastest delivery boys and manages to rack in a lot on tips and good reviews.

Hadcase and Tup are also delivery boys, with Dogma helping in the kitchen. Tup is also trained on register and is quite good at it.

The advertising team is nicknamed “The Bad Batch” because why would anyone in their family go into advertising over pizza making? (Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair would, apparently)

Pizza Hutt (aka bounty hunters and scoundrels) 

Jabba is the owner (who else would it be)

Their best store is in the town of Tatooine, which is weird given how hot the climate is.

The manager is this really creepy guy named Bib Fortuna.

Employee of the month (most of the time) is the delivery boy Boba Fett (who deserted from Domino’s after his dad died in a car accident or something). Bobba is known for always delivering on time and with the food still hot. He’s also really good at getting extra on his tips.

The employees come and go on a regular basis, some staying for several years, others only a few days. Jabba is very particular about his place and if he doesn’t like the worker or how someone is doing something, he’ll fire them. Usually with no notice.

On the plus side, Jabba is known to give some pretty good bonus’ if you do a really good job.

Every once in a while, the company offers a special topping. No one is a hundred percent sure what it is but it tastes really good so it sells well. (Don’t ask me what it is)

The employees are not allowed to interact or affliate themselves with any of the other pizza places or Jabba will fire them. He’s very jealous of his company and will not risk losing his secret recipies (hence why only a few people actually know it)

Han and Chewy work there for summer jobs.

Little Senators (later Little Empire-- aka Palpatine and pals)

Palpatine “bought” the franchise years ago (he persuaded the previous owner to basically give it to him with some blackmail and a few other shady business moves, but hey. If no one can trace them, it never happened)

Their best store is in Coruscant (which also happens to be one of the biggest cities in the country) and are considered one of the largest franchises in pizza (if not the largest)

There are two managers that stand above the rest: Dooku and Padme.

Dooku runs the southern Coruscant Little Senators while Padme runs the one in the little off branch city of Naboo. Neither like the other one.

Dooku’s store is known to deliver on time and never mix up orders. The actual pizza’s taste fine, but they are a little haphazardly thrown together.

Padme’s store is known for having the “better tasting” pizza and their food is always hot. If the order is mixed up, they do full refunds and deliver the proper order with no charge.

Dooku’s store is one of the first experimenting with robotic help at the counter and in the kitchen. It goes... well enough.

Padme’s assistant manager is Bail Organa and her best employee is her daughter, Leia Amidala.

When Palpatine brings out the new name (Little Empire), Dooku fully supports it and continues under the franchise.

Padme doesn’t support it or the new company regulations (”These new rules and regulations are tyranny!”) and quits (along with Bail) to start their own pizza place (it’s like a local family joint, not a franchise but who knows). They call it “Pizza Rebel”.

Papa Yoda’s (aka the Jedi)

I can’t stop laughing at the name of this one, help

Yoda is the owner (duh) and most of the employees believe he’s at least a hundred and are shocked he’s still alive. And working. He’s short, walks around with a wooden spoon and will whack anyone who tries to eat the toppings. And yes, he is still involved in the kitchen (and hasn’t retired)

He taught Dooku all about the business of making and selling pizza’s. Dooku grew in skill and then one day left the company without a word. A few years later he showed up as a manager in Little Senators. Ever since then, Papa Yoda’s has been struggling to stay a float.

Some managers worth mentioning: Mace Windu, Obi-Wan, Plo Koon, and Shaak Ti.

Obi-Wan runs the store in Naboo, which had been run by his teacher, Qui-Gon Jinn until his sudden death several years ago. He is the youngest employee made into manager to date. His assistant manager is Anakin Skywalker, who really wants his own store but Yoda thinks he’s not quite ready (which he isn’t). Their best employee is Ahsoka Tano, who can do it all (cook, deliver, and serve) followed closely behind by Luke Amidala (who Anakin claims he’s not related to, but everyone knows otherwise)

(Anakin has been secretly married to Padme of Little Senators but when she leaves the company there’s not much of a reason to keep it a secret. Turns out it really wasn’t a secret because everyone in the store knew-- they also knew about Luke and Leia, apparently)

Mace Windu runs his store alone, but runs it efficiently. The closest thing he has to an assistant manager is his head cook, Deba Billaba. Caleb Dume (Kanan Jarrus) is their best delivery boy who has recently decided to start training some of the newbies (Sabine Wren, Ezra Bridger, Garazeb Orrelios). The front end is run by Hera Syndulla (who may or may not be dating Caleb, it’s a running bet).

Plo Koon and Shaak Ti run their store together (as business partners that’s it) and are known to treat their employees, customers, and their rivals with consideration and kindness. They have a shop very close to Wolffe’s Dominos, which does cause some contention at low points but for the most part, they get along fine. (Plo and Shaak Ti absolutely love the family dynamic between Wolffe’s “pack” of employees). The two will often help Wolffe and his crew in outside business affairs (finding open apartments for employees, helping buy a first car, etc) and they will do the same for the two managers. Most people don’t get how Dominos and Papa Yoda’s are both still open because of this relationship, but they are. (In the future, someone finally figured out Dominos had some legal issues in it’s ownership and was forced to merge with Little Empire or shut down. Wolffe chose to shut down and he and his pack were immediately offered jobs at Papa Yoda’s. They accepted.)

Yoda actually manages a store as well. It’s the “first” one he ever opened and he uses it as a training grounds of sorts for future managers and other job positions. He’s patient, but strict and will often speak in riddles which is annoying to no end. He finds it a great way to weed out the ones that don’t want to be there, and the ones that do.

Order #66 has been banned as an order number. The “why” is never to be spoken of ever again and all the newbies are confused and will ask, but no one will tell them because “they don’t talk about it”