#ch: depa billaba

[friskynotebook]

You Make It Feel Like Christmas Ch. 3

An Obidala Hallmark Christmas movie rewrite!

CW: age gap, food, grief, injury, concussion

Summary: Padme bonds with the Kenobis

Also on AO3!

The next morning, Padme slowly made her way down the stairs into the kitchen, where the Kenobis were enjoying their breakfast.

“Morning!” Leia cheered, waving as the other children echoed her greeting. 

“Hi,” Padme smiled, heading over to the breakfast bar.

“Good morning,” Obi-Wan said, his eyes crinkling softly.

Padme turned towards him, running a hand through her wild curls. “Hi,” she repeated. Get it together! Stop staring at his hair and don’t think about how it’s probably damp from the shower! And do not think about him in the shower . . . “Did anyone call for me?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “Not yet. But I’m sure it’ll be any minute now. How are you feeling?”

“Um,” Padme rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m a little fuzzy still, but mostly fine.”

His expression brightened. “That’s good! How about a bologna omelet?”

She furrowed her brow. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.”

“You’ve never heard of anything!” Luke piped in.

“Luke!” Obi-Wan chastised, exasperated.

Padme laughed. “I mean, he’s right.” She gestured to the kitchen island. “Can I help you?”

“We can help together!” Korkie suggested, jumping off his stool.

The two of them headed over to the island, and Padme unwrapped the bologna.

“Hmmm, bologna . . .” She sniffed the meat. “I don’t think this is part of my regular diet.” She started chopping the bologna with the precision of a Michelin starred chef.

Obi-Wan blinked, trying not to stare at her excellent knife skills. “Um, I have some friends coming over today—I mentioned them before, the sheriff and his wife, the doctor.”

“Oh?” Padme continued chopping.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. “Hopefully they’ll be able to help you out.”

“Hopefully,” Padme agreed. She presented her creation to Korkie. “Voila! A rose for a rose.”

“Is that a . . . bologna rose?” Obi-Wan asked, his head tilted to the side as he admired her work.

“It’s really fancy!” Korkie exclaimed. “Thank you!”

Padme blushed. “ . . . I don’t know how I did that.”

##

About an hour later, Obi-Wan answered the knock at the door.

“Hi,” he greeted. “Good to see you both! Come in, come in!”

Padme hovered by the entryway as a man and a woman entered the home. “This is Sheriff Mace Windu and his wife, Dr. Billaba.”

“Depa,” she said gently.

“Depa,” Obi-Wan echoed. “Shall we set you up in the living room?”

##

Depa shined a light into Padme’s eyes. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Um, I guess I got hit on the head,” Padme responded. “But I don’t remember how it happened, and I don’t remember anything before that at all.”

Depa felt Padme’s glands and shoulders. “What’s the first thing you can remember?”

“Walking around on the road and then Obi-Wan and Luke finding me.”

Obi-Wan sipped at his tea, watching the exchange with a furrowed brow.

“Any nausea or fatigue?” Depa asked.

“No. I mean, I’m a little bit groggy all the time . . . and I’m also hungry all the time? But I’m okay.”

“That’s good,” Depa smiled. “Can you follow my finger, please?”

Padme did as she asked, focusing on Depa’s finger.

“Okay, and press down on my hands? Good.”

“Do you remember roughly where you were?” Mace asked.

“We were coming back from the Lars farm,” Obi-Wan supplied.

“Hmm, that’s pretty isolated . . . Do you think you might know anyone out there?”

“I wish I did,” Padme replied. “Maybe I do. I just don’t remember if I do, or did . . .”

“There’s no sign of any traumatic brain injury,” Depa reassured Padme.

“Really?”

“Motor functions and reflexes are good. Obi-Wan did a good job on the cut,” she replied. 

Padme glanced at Obi-Wan, looking for reassurance. He gave her a warm, lopsided smile that warmed her down to her toes.

“Memory is a tricky thing,” Depa continued, causing Padme to turn back. “But you honestly seem perfectly healthy.”

Mace pulled out a digital camera. “If you don’t mind—”

Padme turned towards him. “What—?”

Mace took a photo, the bright flash blinding Padme. 

“There we go,” he said. “The deputy put out a county-wide bulletin with your description, but this picture will really help.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I hope so.” Padme blinked away the spots in her vision. “Because there’s gotta be someone out there looking for me, right?”

“Hello everybody!” 

“Breha!” Mace called as a woman and man entered through the back door.

“We came down to meet the special guest,” Breha grinned.

“This is Breha and Bail Organa, family friends,” Obi-Wan introduced. “They live just down the road.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Bail said.

The kids raced in, cheering their names as they ran up for their hugs.

“Okay, alright, alright!” Obi-Wan laughed.

“We have everything we need—we’ll be on our way,” Mace said, standing with his wife. “Take care.” He shook Obi-Wan’s hand.

Padme followed Depa and Mace to the door. She touched Depa’s arm. “So, when will I start remembering things again?”

Depa shook her head. “Two days, two weeks—you never know. But the good news is you’ll eventually come out of it.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do?”

Good food and sleep are really the best medicine,” she replied. “Call me if you need me.”

Padme closed the door after Depa and slowly walked back into the living room.

Obi-Wan rushed to her side. “What did she say? Is everything alright?”

Padme sighed. “She said I just need to eat, sleep, and relax.”

“Are you starting to remember anything yet?” Breha asked.

“Um, that I have not had a bologna omelet before,” Padme replied.

“Breha’s a registered nurse,” Obi-Wan said. “I think I mentioned before that she was the one who took a look at you the other night and helped you change clothes.”

Bail raised his brows and looked up at Padme. “Wait—what have they been calling you?”

Padme looked startled. “Oh! Um, nothing yet.”

Bail gave his friend a look. “You haven’t even discussed a name for your guest?”

Obi-Wan turned bright red.

“When an animal comes into the home, it’s named in five minutes flat,” Breha said. “What would you like us to call you?”

“I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “What do I look like?”

“Winter!” Leia exclaimed.

“That’s your doll’s name, Leia,” Korkie said.

Breha started listing names. “Carrie, Rose, Ami, Lindsay—”

“Ami has a nice ring to it,” Padme smiled.

“You look like an Ami,” Bail nodded.

“Ami it is,” Breha agreed.

Obi-Wan gazed at her, his eyes soft. “I like Ami.”

##

“So, I have an idea.”

Padme turned from wiping the counter to face Obi-Wan. “Oh?”

“How about we get outside, go for a ride, meet some people—see if anyone recognizes you,” he suggested. “Breha, would you and Bail be alright with watching the children?”

“Please, get out of here,” Breha teased. “Go enjoy yourselves.” She gestured towards the window. “There’s nowhere prettier in the world.”

Padme tucked a curl behind her ear. “In that case, that sounds wonderful.”

##

“I’m not getting on that thing!”

“Oh yes you are!” Obi-Wan chuckled. “It’s how we get around—especially after a snow storm.” He sat astride the snowmobile and patted the space behind him. “Come on, now. Hop on.”

Padme blushed and sat behind Obi-Wan.

“Hold on tight,” he murmured.

Padme swallowed and wrapped her arms around his toned, firm chest. Even though they were bundled up in layers of winter clothing, she could feel the warmth emanating from his core.

She squeezed a little tighter.

As they rode through the winter wonderland, Padme laughed as Obi-Wan showed off a little of his driving skills, nestling herself against his strong frame.

##

Obi-Wan knocked on the Lars’ door, glancing back at Padme as she took in the farm.

Owen opened the door, a grin on his face. “Obi-Wan! Good to see you.”

“Good to see you,” he replied. “How is the foal doing?”

“Good, very good,” Owen said. “Thanks to you.”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “I just delivered her.”

“Hi,” Padme said, waving a little. “I’m Ami.”

“Ami is staying with us for a few days until we can find her friends and family,” Obi-Wan explained.

“Mace mentioned her when he checked in on us.” A woman stepped forward. “I’m Beru, Owen’s wife. Please, come in.”

##

“We’ve been snowed in for the last few days with the kids,” Owen explained, leading them into the living room. “So we decided to make the best of it.”

Their living room was fully decorated with homemade, glittery Christmas decor, from the paper snowflakes and garland decorating the wall to the lopsided clay and cardboard ornaments all over their tree.

“Wow!” Padme gasped. “It’s so festive here.”

“And you’re just in time for my eggnog,” Beru said, handing them mugs. 

Padme took a sip. “This is delicious.”

“Old family recipe,” Beru replied. “One day it’ll get me on TV and make me rich,” she chuckled.

Padme stopped mid-sip, frowning. Something seems familiar . . .

Obi-Wan caught her gaze, furrowing his brow. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

She swallowed and nodded, giving him a small smile. “Fine, fine. Just—something tickled my brain, I guess.”

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to respond but Owen interrupted them. “We were about to put up the star—it’s Biggs’s favorite part.”

A boy with a shock of dark hair bolted up, grabbing the handmade star from the coffee table and ran over to his father.

Owen held his waist. “Ready?”

“Ready!” Biggs cheered. 

“One, two, three!” Owen lifted Biggs up so his son could put the star on top of the Christmas tree.

“Now it feels like Christmas,” Beru smiled.

Padme tried to ignore the fluttering in her chest as Obi-Wan gazed at her.

##

After Obi-Wan and Padme had returned to the Kenobi home, they heard a knock on the door, followed by the creak of its opening.

“Something smells good!”

The kids cheered at Qui-Gon’s arrival.

“Hello there, Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan greeted. “Ami, this is Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon, this is uh, Ami.”

“Want a bowl?” Korkie asked.

“Oh, don’t make any fuss for me.” Qui-Gon hung his jacket.

Padme turned towards the table, then looked back at Obi-Wan, her eyes wide with excitement. “Oh, Obi-Wan, can I set the table? I’d really like to.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan coughed. “Well, um . . .”

“We never set the table,” Korkie said. “But . . . let’s do it!”

Obi-Wan’s lips quirked up into a smile as he watched Padme work. “Pull up a chair, Qui-Gon. Looks like we’re having a formal dinner tonight.”

##

Padme set dirty plates on the kitchen counter. “So that friend of yours . . . is he like a mountain man or something?”

Obi-Wan barked out a laugh. Padme decided she liked his laugh. “He kind of is. He’s the one who encouraged Satine and me to move to America . . . But he’s also quite a famous painter.”

“Really?” she asked, placing some glasses in the sink. 

“Yes, his name is Qui-Gon Jinn. He’s lived out here for years. Actually, I think I have a book of his around here somewhere . . .” He found the large art book on his bookshelf and brought it to Padme.

She carefully turned the pages, admiring Qui-Gon’s landscape paintings, defined by their symmetry and geometric lines. She eventually came across a snowy mountainscape surrounded by evergreen trees and her breath caught in her throat. 

Obi-Wan, who had been watching over her shoulder, glanced down from the painting to her eyes. “Ami? Is everything alright?”

“I’ve seen this one before.”

“You have? Are you sure?”

“Yeah . . . Is it in an art museum? Something like that?”

Obi-Wan frowned at the book. “It doesn’t say, but I can certainly ask him.”

“Okay,” she nodded, tracing the artwork with her fingertips. “Maybe it’ll help me find out where I’m from.”

He smiled at her. “Maybe.”

##

“and my little sister and i will take hands and looking up at our beautiful tree we'll dance and sing Noel Noel.”

Obi-Wan closed the book of Christmas poetry and looked up, his heart melting at the sight before him.

Padme and his children were fast asleep, snuggled up against each other on the sofa.

He smiled softly, setting the book aside. 

Obi-Wan had no idea who Ami really was or where she came from—or when she’d be leaving them. But he did know that his life hadn’t felt this full and happy in years.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted it to end.

The poem Obi-Wan is reading is [little tree] by e. e. cummings.

No-pressure tags: @saradika @obiknights @princessxkenobi @your-dose-of-obidala @celestial-alignment @cypanache @justsaysomethingjayj @vic3456 @alabama-metal-man @written-musings @labyrinth-runner

[nimpianna]

found someone to carry me home

Mace Windu Appreciation Day

Prompt: Bonds

Read on AO3

-

“I’m concerned about Master Unduli,” Mace says slowly, methodically, the true depth of his worry only betrayed by the slight crease in his forehead and the darkness in his eyes. “I don’t believe she’s been getting enough sleep. And she feels...off in our Force bond, though I can’t quite name how.”

Depa tilts her head, his disquiet mirrored plainly across her face. “You know how Luminara is,” she replies. “She’s tough on herself. And not very good at opening up when she needs help. She’ll listen to you, though, she always does. You mean a lot to her, even if neither of you will admit it.”

Mace gives her a hard look - the only reprimand he can manage in this post-war world, where they have all started clinging to the few people they have left with all of their strength, and there is not one person still alive who could truly blame them for it - but Depa just gives him a slight, amused smile in return.

“You had the same Master, Mace. She’s family. And besides, she’s Cyslin’s little echo, remember?”

“How could I forget?” There’s a note of fondness in his voice now, a tone laced with warm memories of Cyslin Myr and the too-quiet, too-clever girl she had taken as her Padawan long after Mace had grown up. In all honesty, Luminara may very well be the closest thing to a sister he has ever had, and it shows, sometimes, in simple, near-silent ways. Though not lately - while the rest of the Jedi have come together, Luminara has drifted farther apart, more distant than he has ever seen her.

(Quietly, the thought of losing her, too, scares him, he who has lost so many already.)

“I’ll speak with her,” he says finally, already drafting and throwing away no less than five possible opening lines in his mind. “And I’ll let you know if any other...assistance is required.”

He means that he will tell her if he fails spectacularly and traumatically to make anything remotely better, and Depa only hums, placing a light, comforting hand on his arm. “You’ll be alright.”

-

“Master Unduli.”

“Master Windu.”

Mace finds Luminara in the gardens, a secluded spot underneath a tree that not many frequent - Cyslin and her lineage claim it as their own, anyways, and most are too intimidated at even the sight of Mace to try and sit near him. Here and now, up close and personal, Mace finds even more cause for concern in Luminara’s appearance. She is perfectly dressed as always, robes not even the slightest fraction out of place, but there is a tiredness in her eyes, a weariness in her posture that sets a burst of protective fire blazing in Mace, a desire to keep her far away from whatever clearly haunts her so. He checks his temper smoothly as he sits down beside her, moving with that quiet grace they both share, though hers is more like a dance and his is more like a fight.

He can feel her inquisitive gaze on him, but he is silent for a long, long while before he speaks, words slow. “I am worried about you. You’ve been...distant, and I can feel that something isn’t as it should be.”

She tenses slightly, almost imperceptibly, and he sees her swift denial coming before she can even begin to reply. Four words stop her short: “Talk to me, Nara.” The nickname is familiar like an old photograph or a handmade sweater, and Mace feels a twinge of guilt at the momentary surprise on Luminara’s face. She has to know that he cares. She has to.

“You know I dislike nicknames,” she says, and he’s half-certain that it was meant to be almost teasing, but it comes out broken, and oh, that fire is raging now.

“I know you made an exception for myself and Cyslin, once,” comes his quiet reply. “What’s going on?” The ‘once’ hurts to stay, sticks in his throat like a sharp shard of glass, cutting deep. They are not as close as they once were, back when she had looked up at him with so much awe and he hadn’t entirely known what to do with it. They are not as close as they once were, but it is not a small part of him that hopes that they can grow to be.

Luminara hesitates, cold and removed, and Mace is starting to think that he should have left this to someone warmer, more naturally inclined to this sort of conversation, like Depa or even Vos, when she finally gives in. She straightens her immaculate robes, a calming habit he's watched her develop over the years, and only manages one word in her usual cool tone before he can feel something in her snap: "Barriss."

Ah.

Of course. He should have realized. Losing a Padawan is one kind of pain. But what happened with Barriss...that is a worse hurt entirely. 

Luminara's words come out in a rush - but still, they are clipped, quietly careful, and it is what she lets Mace feel in the Force that tells him just how badly she is hurting, just how harshly she has placed the blame on herself. It’s almost overwhelming, a sudden flood of emotion, and he has an urge to cry that he knows comes from her and not him, and he watches her hold back, still restrained even as she starts to crumble, so much strength in her that he’s not sure if his pride outweighs his terror or if his terror outweighs his pride.

He puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, and stays. He stays, steady and unflinching, and listens, keeps her grounded, and gives her all the tenderness through their Force bond that he can, soothes away the edges of panic in her mind. “You did your best,” he says.

“It wasn’t good enough” is her simple reply, and it’s laced with the painful poison of self-loathing, and all he can really do is say, “We were at war, Luminara. We were at war. Things happened that you couldn’t have prepared her for even if you had known they would. I would take this burden from you if I could, but even the Jedi can’t change the past.”

She manages a nod, and he watches her slowly pull herself together with no small amount of concern. She reminds him painfully of Cyslin in this moment: fiercely independent and self-reliant, though Luminara doesn’t have their Master’s biting sarcasm and wide grin. He’s almost grateful for that, in a sense. He isn’t quite sure he could survive living with Cyslin's ghost. Her echo already stings badly enough.

“Luminara,” he says softly when she has forced her walls back up, and she inclines her head slightly towards him, hands balled into fists on her lap. “I am...available if you ever need someone to talk to. Or to spar with, perhaps. My door is open for you at any time.” He knows her too well to expect that she will take him up on it easily, but it’s important to him that she knows. He will always want to help her. That might be what love is.

"Why would you-" she cuts herself off abruptly, and he can see her shove her feelings aside. "Thank you, Master Windu."

"Luminara," he says again, voice firmer now. "You were my Master's Padawan. Cyslin would want us to help each other. And you are one of the finest Jedi - one of the finest people I have ever had the honor of knowing. I care about you. I want to help in any way I can.”

She is almost achingly silent, completely still, and it’s not until she ducks her head that he realizes she might be crying. He can’t quite tell, and he’s sure she’d be grateful for that. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t ask, only wraps his arms around her in a cautious hug, feels her stiffen and then slowly, surely hug back. It’s not perfect, not polished, slightly awkward and fumbling, but they’re trying. They’re trying.

Mace holds his little sister tightly, and it’s enough.

[animemangasoul]

Chapters: 13/17 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Mace Windu, Depa Billaba & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Feemor & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker. Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Qui-Gon Jinn, Depa Billaba, Feemor (Star Wars), Anakin Skywalker, Yoda (Star Wars), Garen Muln, Vokara Che, Quinlan Vos Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Parental Mace Windu, Protective Mace Windu, Mace Windu Appreciation Day, Obi-Wan Kenobi Whump, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Feemor Needs a Hug (Star Wars), Qui-Gon Jinn's A+ Parenting, He Is Very Misguided. Series: Part 1 of Mace's Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi Summary:

Qui-Gon lives and Mace gets a new Padawan.

In which Qui-Gon repudiates Obi-Wan and Mace isn't about to let the kid leave the order without a fight.

Chapter 13 is now up!!!

[nieithryn]

Tag Dump: Jedi

Hopefully Tumblr can keep these things straight, huh?

Still need my aesthetic tags tho....eventually.

[jamesttiberius]

and when you look at me, the weight of how i feel is heavy on me the disaster shatterpoint lineage au on ao3 | obikin 

summary: five times anakin asks obi-wan to marry him, and one time obi-wan asks

update 12.16: complete!

[ all disaster shatterpoint lineage fics on tumblr ]

chapter tags ↓

——

ch one tags: the phantom menace, qui-gon jinn is a good master, force bonds, first meetings, padawan obi-wan kenobi, cuddling

ch two tags: character injury, crash landing, field medicine, inaccurate medical descriptions (lmao), senior padawan anakin skywalker, pining

ch three tags: domestic fluff, family fluff, sickfic, emotional hurt/comfort, pining, food as a love language, anakin skywalker is a good cook, obi-wan and anakin are ahsoka’s parents 

ch four tags: mission fic, undercover, undercover as married, fake married, family fluff, pining, extreme pining, fake proposal, depa billaba, disaster shatterpoint lineage moments, there’s only one bed

ch five tags: sharing a bed, getting together, first kiss, first time, morning sex, anakin skywalker’s praise kink, dirty talk, consent is sexy, blow jobs, frottage, anakin skywalker’s marriage kink, tender sex, hand/finger kink

ch six tags: post-hardeen arc, parental mace windu, emotional hurt/comfort, revenge of the sith au, arguments, semi public sex, clothed sex, frottage, emotional sex, marriage proposal

ch seven tags: domestic fluff, parallels, married fluff, post-end of the war, everyone lives au, tenderness, romance

[unwhitewashthebadbatch]

Hi first I want to tell you that I support and love you but regarding your post against white-washing with Depa Billaba, Fennec Shand, Kanan and Saw I believe that it wouldn't be whitewashing in the case of the latter one? I mean, technically, when he appears more pale is his first appearance in CW and no the other way around. Wouldn't it be a case of blackwashing?

Hello anon! The whitewashing in Saw is in his hair (straight and brown rather than black and coily, as it appeared in TCW) and his eye color (at no point should it have been blue or green, regardless of what canon says about the changes to his eye color). Regarding your last question: blackwashing does not exist! And even if it did, how do you blackwash a character that is already Black?

Hope this helps!

- Mod CH

[whatapunk]

Holy butts I wrote a second chapter!! I am soooo thankful for everyone who liked or reblogged the first chapter because truly, truly, truly you gave me more motivation than you could possibly realize! 

A couple things: 

I’ve included dialogue from the s02e01 scene where Kanan and Hera have a very Han/Leia hallway argument and I definitely don’t want to take credit for such things (I only wanted to add it to help me with my flow a bit)

Right now I’m firmly trying so very hard to fit it perfectly into canon (it’s just something I like doing, idk) but eventually it might go a lil more AU, I just haven’t decided yet

This shit had me on wookieepedia searching the most random stuff, but rest assured, there is garlic in the Star Wars universe

Enjoy!

Title: Endings

Fandom: Star Wars Rebels

Relationship: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla; Kanan Jarrus/female OC

Rating: t for now, m in future chapters (I'm guessing) for language and some non-explicit intimacy

Word Count: 2446

Previous Chapters: Ch. 1

Chapter 2

Kanan sat on the step ladder leading up to the Liberator’s control panels. His presence was a silent mark of informality in the middle of the crew’s debriefing meeting with Commander Sato. The rest of the crew, plus Ahsoka, stood around the holo-console in the middle of the floor. Sato was saying something about the Ghost crew- his crew- but Kanan was barely half listening. For one, every other word that came out of Sato’s mouth was some military formality and, thus, not something that interested him in the slightest. But the main reason he wasn’t listening was that Rhia Denley’s image was still burned into his thoughts.

Seven years. When you hadn’t seen someone in this galaxy for seven years, you started to assume you never would again. At least, that’s how Kanan had felt. 

However, suddenly she was here again- she existed again, something Kanan had tried hard to convince himself wasn’t even true. It was easier to convince himself she was something he’d imagined than for him to remember her and the way she’d crushed his young heart years ago. Besides, thinking about that heartache had always made him feel guilty once Hera was in his life. Now, however, he was feeling so many things he didn’t even have room for guilt.

What he did have room for was a hefty amount of bitterness, and for more than one reason. First of all, he was already bitter before Rhia showed up; he’d hardly hidden his feelings and had become almost spiteful about how they had been sucked into a military operation. But even that wasn’t totally separate from his thoughts about Rhia.

Rhia and Kanan had become a “thing” on Gorse, very soon after Kanan had set up what passed as a life there. Their meeting was by chance, but they had run into each other briefly when he was even younger and worked with a smuggler named Janus Kasmir. It was actually Rhia who told him about low-profile jobs on Gorse then, so he wasn’t altogether surprised that she ended up there eventually too. While he wasn’t much more than a kid when they first met, when they reconnected on Gorse, he was older and far more interesting to Rhia. They quickly became infatuated with one another for the better part of four months, which was practically a lifelong commitment to Kanan. Before Hera, Rhia was the longest relationship he’d ever been in. 

Rhia, however, had bigger goals than being a bartender’s girlfriend and working as a miner on Cynda. Rhia, much like Hera, was interested in the Rebellion. She’d made this clear early on, but she didn’t try to preach to Kanan, and he’d liked that about her. However, once she’d found a connection to a group of Rebels on the Holonet, she had tried- more than once- to get him to come with her. That’s what made running into her here, of all places, all the more exasperating and awkward. He’d ended up here anyway, despite his countless protestations- and he didn’t even want to be.

Seeing Rhia again reminded him, among other things, of all of the reasons he told her he didn’t want to join the Rebellion. And that reminded him that they were all still true.

Kanan heard Sato say something about the Spectres being “invaluable,” and then suddenly Chopper burst into the meeting, much to Commander Sato and Hera’s dismay. He was going on about an emergency incoming transmission, and, frankly, Kanan welcomed the change. His bitterness with this situation, this Rebellion- this meeting had reached its peak.

***

Less than ten minutes later, Kanan’s bitterness had already gotten him into trouble, and with Hera, no less. 

After telling Chopper to play his transmission during a “secret debriefing,” Hera had scowled at him for the rest of the meeting. He’d tried to rush out and get out of her line of fire once they were dismissed, but she’d caught him in the hallway and firmly let him know he wasn’t authorized to do that.

“Authorization! Procedure! That’s what’s bothering me!” he’d raised his voice, uncaring of the people that were attempting to walk past them as they argued. 

Hera put her hands up gently, sighing at having finally gotten him to drop the passive aggressive quips about their work lately. It wasn’t hard to guess what had been bothering him, but he was a grown adult who should be able to talk to her, of all people.

“All right. Talk to me,” she said, lowering her voice. Kanan sighed and did the same.

“After this mission, I want us to go back on our own,” he said firmly. “Fighting alongside soldiers isn’t what I signed up for.” At that, Hera frowned at him and shoved him into an open doorway, pointing a gloved finger in his face.

“You seem to be forgetting these soldiers helped save your life,” she said, looking at him with those big eyes that could be both demanding and softening at the same time. After that remark, he couldn’t meet them.

“And I’m grateful,” he started, “but that doesn’t mean I want to join their little army. When you and I started together, it was ‘Rob from the Empire, give to the needy,’ a noble cause. Now we’re getting drawn into some kind of military thing! I don’t like it.” 

Somehow Hera’s voice became more serious and more earnest.

“We are fighting a bigger fight, but it’s still the right fight,” she said, all but pleading with him to understand that they’d been fighting in the name of the Rebellion all along. Kanan wasn’t having it.

“I survived one war. I’m not ready for another one,” he said, turning away from her. She grabbed his arm. “I saw what it did.”

“To the Jedi?” she asked, almost whispering. He looked back at her.

“To everyone.” He left the doorway and continued walking down the hall, hearing Hera’s exasperated sigh behind him. 

Kanan loved virtually everything about Hera, even her flaws. She was incredibly stubborn, but since he was so go-with-the-flow, it never really got in their way. In fact, it practically complimented his own personality. She would get adamant and obsessed over something, and he would follow her anywhere and do anything she asked of him. At least, that’s how things had gone for them for the past seven years, right up until the formal Rebellion had rescued him from the Grand Inquisitor. Now it was suddenly a reality of Kanan’s world that he was part of a military operation and that could only lead to one thing: war. 

Hera had been familiar with war her whole life, but not in the same way Kanan had. He’d fought in battles as a young teen alongside his master, Depa Billaba and seen the realities of it all over the galaxy. Hera’s own world was war-torn, for sure, but her role in that war was far different than Kanan’s. For the first time since he’d met her, he felt like she was incapable of understanding him.

Kanan headed to the only place he really wanted to be right now: his quarters on Ghost. He felt like meditating, if only for the quiet. He lost himself in his thoughts there for maybe an hour, and eventually his sour attitude had at least subsided. He remembered his harsh tone with Hera and his obvious instigation of Chopper in the meeting. He still didn’t care about what Sato thought, but he felt bad for making Hera look bad. Now, it felt like such a childish thing to have done.

He left his quarters and, once seeing the Ghost was still empty, he went back out into the bay. It was less busy now, as most of the cargo that littered the area earlier had been taken elsewhere by now. His eyes scanned for Hera; he knew he should apologize to her. When he didn’t see her, or any of the Spectres, he set off down one of the hallways that he believed led to the commissary. He hadn’t taken the time to get to know his way around this ship (by design) so he honestly had no clue where to start looking for her. He’d gone pretty far without seeing anything resembling a commissary and was about to turn around when an amazing aroma hit him and made his stomach growl: garlic. 

Something told him to follow the smell, which led him down a corridor that opened up to a large galley. Standing in front of a pan sizzling on the stove, as Kanan had expected, was Rhia. She looked up at him, surprised, but then smiled.

“I should have known this would attract you,” she said with a smirk, then turned her attention back to the sizzling pan, stirring the contents with a wooden spoon. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me here,” Kanan added, grabbing a seat at an empty table near the stove. “You know how I feel about your cooking.” She looked up and grinned at him.

“The same way everyone does,” she said, confidently. She left the pan and attended to a cutting board with what looked like an onion and some kind of pepper on it. 

Kanan’s stomach growled again. Rhia was an amazing cook and loved every piece of food he’d ever seen her hold. She only ever ate ration bars or drank nutritive milk when she absolutely had to. Otherwise, she kept her own stock of spices and quality ingredients and went well out of her way (and budget) to get fresh produce. Kanan’s mind drifted back to memories of watching Rhia cooking in her kitchen on Gorse. He remembered breakfast with eggs and some sort of mushroom, watching her move her hands skillfully around knives and pans and the ingredients, often wearing nothing but-

“So,” Rhia started, pulling Kanan out of his memory. “You finally joined the Rebellion.” Kanan’s brow wrinkled.

“What do you mean by finally?” he asked, already feeling himself becoming defensive. Rhia rolled her eyes.

“Nothing,” she said, slicing into her pepper, grinning.

“And no, I did not join anything,” Kanan said, putting extra emphasis on “I” and jabbing his thumb to his chest. She looked back up at him as she scraped ingredients from her cutting board to the pan. 

“That was Hera Syndulla, wasn’t it? Captain of the Ghost? You’re part of Ghost crew, right?” she pressed, confused. Kanan was more than a little surprised.

“You’ve heard of us?” Kanan asked, his vanity getting the better of him and nearly allowing a smile to creep onto his face. Rhia rolled her eyes again and laughed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Kanan. I’ve heard of Captain Syndulla, not her first mate,” she joked, laughing more at the fall of Kanan’s expression. Then realization struck her. “Wait, are you the one we just blew up a star destroyer for?” Kanan grimaced.

“Yes, but that wasn’t my fault. I didn’t tell them to- and it was Chopper who-” Rhia held her hand up, seeing him getting defensive.

“Kanan, I don’t really know anything about what happened. I wasn’t here for it, I just heard about it. I was on a freighter headed to a rendezvous. I don’t even know who Chopper is,” she said, going back to her pan.

“He’s our droid,” Kanan said flatly. “Anyway, my crew performed the rescue. I was aboard Tarkin’s destroyer.” Rhia looked up at him again, this time a little more serious.

“What was that like?” she asked.

“Not fun.”

Rhia didn’t push the topic further. She grabbed a pan of noodles that had been sitting over to her right and mixed them into the skillet with some oil. Kanan was suddenly fascinated by the chipped edge of the table in front of him. 

Satisfied with the meal in front of her, Rhia reached into a cabinet behind her and pulled out two plates and then matched them with two forks. She set them out on the table Kanan was sitting at and then divided the noodles in half. Before she sat down, however, she went back to the cabinet and grabbed two glasses. When she set them down the table Kanan looked up at her, arching his eyebrow. She went to a backpack that sat on the floor behind the counter and pulled out a glass bottle with no markings and a familiar light brown liquid sloshing inside. She poured herself a drink, placed the mouth of the bottle over his glass and paused, looking at him, silently offering the drink. 

“I can’t think of what goes better with your dinners,” he said, and she poured. 

As soon as Kanan took a bite, his memories were triggered all over again. He was pretty sure he’d never even eaten this specific dish before, given her access to such a wide variety of ingredients. But it didn’t matter. Rhia’s meals were memorable for some sort of shared quality that bound them all together, even when they were drastically different. Not only that, but he realized how long it had been since he’d eaten, and how much longer it had been since he’d eaten something of this quality. For a few minutes they ate in silence, Kanan unavailable for any and all conversation. Eventually, Rhia spoke.

“So explain to me how you haven’t joined the Rebellion?” Kanan sighed, but the food had made him quite amenable to discussing just about anything. He did, however, take a drink before he replied.

“I didn’t know we were a cell. I didn’t know there were cells. Hera was the only one who spoke to Fulcrum and knew of the larger operation. I found out when I was… rescued,” Kanan ended quietly. Rhia could tell that being rescued and needing so much from so many, made him uncomfortable. 

“That had to be quite a shock,” she said, sensing the need for a new subject. “So you and Hera, when did you two meet?” she asked. Kanan looked at her, surprised. He could tell by the way she asked, she knew that they were together. Rhia gave him a “give me a break” look.

“Kanan, really- my ‘pilot’? Shit, I’ve seen explosions that were more subtle.” She chuckled and took another drink, emptying the glass. Kanan did the same. Rhia offered up the bottle again.

“Another?”

Kanan looked at it, hesitating. He hardly drank at all anymore, let alone like he did when they were living on Gorse. However, depending on where this conversation was going to go, Kanan felt like he would need something more than blood in his veins. 

“One more.”

[finnreyfics]

Chapters: 11/? Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Cassian Andor/Leia Organa, Depa Billaba/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Finn/Rey (Star Wars), Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker Characters: Cassian Andor, Leia Organa, Ruescott Melshi, Depa Billaba, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Finn (Star Wars), Rey (Star Wars), Jyn Erso, Luke Skywalker Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, reduced age gap, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, major character death in ch 7 only, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary:

There are a million ways to say the same thing, each unfolds a reality all its own.

Each chapter stands alone, unless otherwise specified

[nieithryn]

Depa loves her Tree Grandma and is proud to take after her.  She will also fall to the Dark Side for her bby boy, and that’s just the truth.

click on pictures for full view but

depa takes after her grandma and i want that on PAPER

[nimpianna]

mace windu is not sentimental. there are very few among the jedi who would even think of accusing him of such a thing, and the very few who would also happen to know that his vengeance justice is swift and terrible and not to be underestimated. he is as intimidating as he is clever, as skilled as he is bold, and he has cultivated a reputation as the perfect, unattached jedi warrior - that is why he is on the jedi council, after all.

so no, mace windu is not sentimental. not at all. he is not soft, and he is certainly not attached.

yes, he has found himself strangely out of sorts since his padawan’s knighting, and yes, he has been refreshing the council’s logs every half an hour in hopes of seeing an alert about knight billaba’s return from her first solo mission, but no, he is not attached. ask anyone. they’ll tell you.

here’s the thing.

out of the jedi who know his sentimentality and his justice, there may be one who would disregard the reputation, the warning, despite the fact that she’s immediately lost every prank war she’s even thought of beginning.

it’s her who sneaks up behind mace now (the only one who ever could), a grin barely restrained on her face as she taps him on the shoulder, watches him stiffen and turn around, and then - all the tension drains out of him in only half a moment, and he is dangerously close to smiling.

“depa,” he says quietly, so much relief in only one word, and the grin she allows is like a fierce hug, even as they maintain their distance, the picture of respectability, the perfect former master padawan pair. they’re known for that, the perfection, almost as much as mace is known for his ice and depa is known for her warmth. “how was your mission?”

it’s the closest to an are you okay did anyone hurt you he will get here, out in the halls where anyone could see them, silent worry serving him better than blatant emotion can. “i think anything would be easy compared to the missions we went on together,” she says, eyes sparkling with amusement, and she could be referring to anything from the pantoran incident to the time they ended up in three days of active combat for what was supposed to be a diplomatic negotiation, but the hint of a smile on his lips is the same. “it went perfectly, master, thanks to your training.”

mace shakes his head, and anyone could see his pride in her, in her accomplishments. attachments are forbidden, dangerous, but depa...depa is more daughter than apprentice, though he might not say it. “your strength is all your own,” he replies. “i had nothing to do with that.”

there are so many things they don’t say.

i don’t know what i would do if you were hurt, and you mean so much to me, and you are my family, and i love you.

but it’s - it’s okay. they know, as much as they let themselves know. and depa smiles and mace tries not to, and it’s enough.

[nieithryn]

Tag Dump

Bc Tumblr can’t even let me go on Hiatus without deleting like 80% of my tags, like a jerk....I still need to find my ship tags, but for now, character and muse tags it is.

[nieithryn]

This is your daily reminder that Mace Windu was on the Jedi Council at 24.  That Mace Windu didn’t have a safe Master-Padawan Bond till he was 17.  That Mace Windu is a victim of active physical and mental abuse.  That Mace Windu created a lightsaber form (with help) to deal with those emotions.

This is your daily reminder that Mace Windu stumbled on pirates attacking a civilian ship, and sidelined his entire mission to save people.  That Mace Windu saved the orphaned twin children on that ship, and brought them to the Temple.  That Mace Windu adopted one of those babies almost instantly, and took her as his padawan at the tender age of ten.

This is your daily reminder that Depa Billaba grew up hoping Mace would take her on, and tried to earn the honor.  That Depa Billaba was on the Council at age 25 and was there through merit, not favoritism.  That Depa Billaba was a Master and on the Council before she ever took a padawan, and knew her Master was proud of her.

This is your daily reminder that Depa Billaba watched her twin sister die feet from her in the arena at Geonosis, and kept fighting.  That Depa Billaba tried to console her Master of his guilt, and never blamed him for the deaths in that arena.

This is your daily reminder that Mace Windu and Depa Billaba are one of the healthiest, most loving master-padawan bonds we see in Star Wars.  That Depa transferred all that healthy affection and playfulness and parental love to Caleb from the moment he walked by her bactatank.  That Depa was not afraid to see Caleb show emotions, and encouraged him, died to protect him.

This is your daily reminder that the Windu legacy is overcoming adversity, self-doubt, self-hate, to show your padawan the love, understanding, and support they need to survive on their own, and it was successful.

[nieithryn]

@offadingstars because pain

          “Dume.”

             Preparing to leave was maybe not the most organized, but.  It would do.  Whatever the Empire was planning, whatever was happening here on Lothal...they had to find out.  Had to stop it.  The Force did not manifest so for nothing.  But...what were they up to?

          “You ask questions...good.”

             Kanan looked up, habit more than anything...the loth-wolf’s hot breath stirred the hair around his face, brushing it away.  He could feel more than see the long muzzle, teeth meant for ripping chunks of flesh, for bringing down massive prey...              He felt the wolf move, the slight vibration as it lay near his feet, looking out over the valley.  It’s head was still near his chest, only a little below his ribs, and something in it’s aura changed.  Questions...of course he asked questions, he didn’t know-

          “You think too much,” came the rough voice, and if Kanan hadn’t known better, he’d have thought it was almost amused.  The wolf was speaking far more than it had with anyone else present...perhaps that was intentional, perhaps it wanted to see him alone for a time, now he understood it’s purpose.  Or perhaps the Force was jerking his chain, and-

          “The strategist must remain grounded, Dume...you know this.”

             Fur under his fingers, silken smooth, and a warm tongue against his hip.  Something like shock running through his gut, warm and cold all at once.  But...how?  The beast had a tie to the planet....right?  Or...was he misreading the creature’s Bond?  It was strong, thick, like a docking cable.  And yet...if he pressed at it a little more...there were scars, marred parts of it...like it had been cut, and regrown, or like-

          “You...you can’t be-”           “So many questions, Dume...still the strategist.  They’ll need that.  Do not think over much-”           “Experience the moment,” he finished softly, fingers tightening in smooth fur.  The wolf made what sounded like a pleased noise, and stood...somehow, he found himself guiding it’s head down, foreheads brushing.  Warm breath on his chest, a warm tongue over his cheek and neck.  And then the beast drew away, a nuzzle to his shoulder turning him around to face...Ezra.  When had he?

          “We ready to go, Kanan?” asked the boy, obviously puzzled.           “...yes, I think so.”

[nieithryn]

"What is that? Are there bandages under your shirt?" (have a worried dad at mom)

                She had rather hoped to get back to her rooms with no one seeing her…it had been a long few weeks on Nar Shaddaa, and a very long flight home, it seemed.  A little rest before she saw the Council tomorrow morning would have been nice…but, it figured that it was Obi-Wan who caught her, half-limping to her rooms and bleeding through her bandages.

         “I thought you and Anakin would be abed at this hour, Obi-Wan,” she murmured, keeping her voice low.  Here in the Knights’ Quarters, the windows showed the moon above the tallest structures, the lights of the city and the moon the only things lighting the halls at this time or night.  It made his hair shine, copper against the muted colors of the Temple, and she almost smiled. “Go back to bed, Obi-Wan.”

             Almost immediately she had to take the hand she’d had hidden under her robe, and press it to the wall, scarlet glistening on her fingers as she steadied herself against the pillar.  Hm…she had lost quite a bit of blood…she’d be alright, though.  She was just a little bit dizzy was all, her Master would never forgive her if she showed up in this state of disarray tomorrow morning.

[nieithryn]

Tag Dump!