#like mace windu still gets hate sometimes nowadays

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Generally envy the bitches on twitter right now trying to insist Mace Windu and Martha Jones and Finn won't victims of racist hatred in fandoms, because what fucking reality are they in and how can I get in.

[val-aquenta]

Here for the prompt: Crossover for Mace Windu appreciation

On a side note, can you guys tell I don’t know anything about the MCU....

Here on ao3

 “Leaving hyperspace in 3… 2… 1… exited.” Obi-Wan reads out, gritting his teeth as they exit hyperspace, the ominous rattling of the ship increasing in real space. “Earth, Master Windu. Inhabited, but with low tech.” He notes quickly as gravity begins pulling them to the green and blue planet. “No communications established between the Republic and its inhabitants.”

Mace sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before looking back at his screens. The alarms screech a bit louder. “No other alternatives?” He asks futilely. 

“No, Master Windu,” Obi-Wan says, flicking a switch and getting the emergency brakes working. They kick in, jolting the ship back even more. They hurtle closer, dipping past satellites and into the atmosphere. The air burns in front of them as they enter the atmosphere. “Outer shields heating fast… managing,” Obi-Wan says.

At least, Mace thinks, they won’t also have to deal with a melting ship. “Steering still down?” He asks, leaning over to flick on back thrusters as they approach the white clouds. 

Obi-Wan tries the wheel before saying, “Still down…” There is little else they can do as they hurtle down towards a large green expanse in the middle of a large continent. The map has almost no information except for the basic knowledge gleaned from fly-by’s in space. They descend past the cloud layer, shooting through the white fluff. Underneath it, the green ground opens around them. The ship slows and slows, back thrusters doing their work. The alarms blare still, and Mace wishes he could turn them off. “We’ll make it. Brakes and back thrust still functional.” Still, Mace stretches out a hand, feeling in the currents of Force for the threads that could pull the ship to a stop. Of course, such a feat would tire him, so he only wishes to use it as a last result. 

“How much altitude, Obi-Wan?” He asks from behind gritted teeth.

“Over 10 klicks.” Obi-Wan’s voice strains past the rumbling. “We’ll slow before then,” he assures, hands rushing over the controls fast. Mace finds himself often forgetting Obi-Wan’s prowess with technology as it pales in comparison to his Padawan’s. He supposes Qui-Gon’s lack of training in that area had meant Obi-wan had to be the pilot and the mechanic of that duo. “Nine klicks…” Obi-Wan says, reaching up to reroute some energy to the thrusters. “Eight… seven,” he counts down. Mace grimaces. The green expanse, a flat seemingly uninhabited plane stretches from horizon to horizon. 

“The landing will be controlled?” 

Obi-Wan eyes the steering wheel critically, “With the steering down it is hard, but not impossible. If the thrusters are rerouted fast enough, and with some help from the Force, I should be able to land it well.” 

Mace sighs in relief, “That’s good. We want minimal damage in order to signal the Republic or end up fixing the ship.” 

Obi-Wan nods before saying, “Five klicks.” He checks the speed, “On target for a controlled landing. Four klicks… three.” The details of the plane are not entirely visible. Other than a few trees, it seems mostly uninhabited. “Two klicks… thrusters fired at full, angled up…” There’s a tug in the Force that Mace recognises as Obi-Wan manipulating the Force just a hint to push the ship into position. “Switching power to vertical… one klick.” He reads out dutifully, and Mace finds himself wondering if he ever did the same with Qui-Gon ‘I only ever interact with plants and animals’ Jinn. “Landing extensions out… touching down…” There’s another jolt in the Force this time directly upwards as Obi-Wan hovers the ship for a moment before letting it down gently. 

Mace is impressed. Most Masters are decently good pilots, but many would have drawn on the Force a lot more to land the ship. Obi-Wan, despite his claims of hating piloting, sees somewhat proud of his landing, judging by the small spark of joy in the Force. “Good job, Obi-Wan.” Obi-Wan looks at him from where he slumps in his seat, eyes blinking tiredly. 

“Oh, uh… thank you, Master Windu.” He says face pressed into a strange mix of embarrassment and happiness. Obi-Wan lets out a mild groan, pressing his hands to his face before unbuckling his belt and standing up. “Well, out of the ship and onto the planet?”

Mace leans over his controls, observing the various flashing lights before standing as well. “Some kind of issue in the hyperdrive, perhaps one of the valves fueling the engines?”

Obi-Wan nods. It does make sense. “An easy fix.” They wrap themselves in their cloaks. “Hopefully we’ll be able to make it off-planet soon enough before they notice.” 

Mace feels something like laughter from the Force and groans inwardly, “I had hoped you would not say that…” He takes a moment to observe Obi-Wan and, mainly out of habit, reaches out to straighten the tabards just a bit before folding the robe over. His hands smooth over the brown fabric. “There… perfect.” His brain catches up after a moment. Depa and he had always done that, and he feels almost embarrassed having done the same to Obi-Wan if not for the happiness floating in the Force around Obi-Wan.

Embarrassment, however, soon flares up in time with a red flush on Obi-Wan’s face, “Umm… sorry, Master. I did not know my robes were askew.” He hesitated with his hand in the air between them before hastily darting forwards and tugging the robe tighter around Mace, folding it so the green embroidery on the front collar, courtesy of Depa, was visible. If possible, his face turns even more red. Mace finds it endearing, though he hopes sometime in the future that Obi-Wan will get used to his presence and that they will be equals in his eyes.

“Thank you,” He says, nodding gratefully. Obi-Wan just blinks before coughing into his sleeve and following Mace off the ship. Mace takes a moment to breathe out of the ship, the cool air around them refreshing after the stressful landing on Earth. “Alright… repairs?” He’s not exactly certain where to begin, unfamiliar with the schematics of ships nowadays. As a Padawan, he had learnt the mechanics of older models of ships.

Obi-Wan raises a brow and, with a shrug, moves over to some panelling. He pats the metal to test the heat, finding the cooling system still intact and keeping the outer shell cool. He summons one of the screws from the bag he’s carried outside and starts undoing the intricate closing system. Mace watches, intrigued but mostly keeping an eye out for anyone else in the Force. He’s not exactly certain whether their entry has been caught, but if someone does come for them, he’d rather be prepared than caught off guard. Obi-Wan hums as he works, unconsciously it seems. He goes from old lullabies in the creche to some kind of instrumental from a famous holo. It’s rather soothing to listen to, and Mace finds himself almost meditating to it while keeping an eye out. 

Soon enough there’s a whirring whine in the air and the approaching tell of a person. Mace jerks and pokes Obi-Wan a bit in the Force, alerting him to an incoming person. Obi-Wan jerks away from the panelling as it slides free with a hiss. Their heads snap up in synchronisation as they realise the sound is coming from up above them. Obi-Wan’s hand twitches to his lightsaber, but Mace’s hand resting on his shoulder stops the movement. “We’re not looking for a fight.”

“Sorry…” Obi-Wan sighs, tracking the movement of the golden-red blur. 

“No worries,” Mace says before also tensing as a second, lower hum joins the first. In the distance, a large blob makes itself known, possibly a ship. It’s rather loud and not exactly stealthy. It makes him uncomfortable, the idea that whoever they are have enough confidence to announce their arrival. The discomfort is quickly pushed aside, miscommunication here could lead to some kind of violence.

Obi-Wan is younger and, despite his maturity for his age, is startled too. He stands behind Mace in the position of a Padawan, two steps backwards and to the right. His head tilts towards Mace, waiting for his action. “Master Windu…? Should I continue repairs, or…?” He trails off, hands fiddling nervously within the confines of his robe. 

“We’ll greet them together,” Mace decides after a moment of deliberation, though he does move closer to this ship, going beneath the shade. There’s a dull thud paired with a heavy clunk as the red and gold humanoid hits the dirt, kneeling dramatically before standing and looking at them. The helmet’s eyes stare ominously. Mace hears and feels the other ship land behind them, and feels another group of people spread out behind them. Obi-Wan tenses, he can feel it in the Force, swirling with the hostility from the others. It clouds the Force, making it difficult to think. He takes a deep breath, centring himself before stepping forwards and bowing respectfully. Obi-Wan follows suit. “Greetings.” 

The machine man steps forwards, little hisses and clunks following the step. “Who are you?” The voice is low, obviously going through some kind of filter that slightly changes the sound. The mouth on the man does not move. “What are your intentions here?”

“We crashed,” Mace begins to explain, his voice somewhat dry, “our hyperdrive valve disconnected due to tampering and we were forced out of hyperspace.” He blinks a bit at the silence before filling it again, “My name is Jedi Master Mace Windu, this is Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Obi-Wan shoots a small smile at being introduced, shuffling a bit closer to Mace. 

The machine’s head tilts sideways a bit, “Hyperwhat?” Mace blinks in surprise, oh right, they aren’t as advanced in tech yet.

“It’s… difficult to explain. Think of it as an advanced form of transport,” Obi-Wan says, clearly remembering the small bit of information, “Suffice to say, we’ll be off-planet after the ship is repaired.” He raises his screw with a smile, “It should take perhaps a cycle at most. It is an easy fix, as well as an easy way to tamper with a ship. You see, the probabilities of actually crashing onto a planet with breathab-” He cuts himself off before grimacing and adding, “sorry…”

The man stands for a moment in silence before a staticky sigh fills the air and the face peels back to reveal a human’s face. “Well, team, we all suited up for nothing it seems.” Without the helmet interfering with the sound, his voice is a bit easier to understand. The strange accent is more noticeable. A man, blonde with arms about as big as Obi-Wan’s torso and a large circular shield sighs, though it appears to be aimed at the metal man, not Mace and Obi-Wan. “So… tell me about this hyperspace you got going on.” The man asks before blinking and letting out a chuckle, “Ah, sorry, my name’s Tony.” He introduces himself. The other man sighs again, his hand reaching up to rest against his forehead. The redhead woman next to him looks between the two with an annoyed expression. 

“Well…” Obi-Wan trails off looking to Mace, and when Mace says nothing, continues, “It’s hard to understand without the basics of dimensional physics… But I can try. Just… let me get back to work fixing the ship.” He moves to the ship again. Tony completely steps out of the suit, wearing an immaculate looking suit, not wrinkled by the journey here. Mace watches them leave with a somewhat surprised face before turning as the other members of this… welcoming party appear. There’s the blonde man, the redhead woman, another blonde man this time with long hair, and a skittish looking black-haired man. 

“So… you guys been chased or something?” The woman asks, “Oh, I’m Black Widow, but call me Natasha.” Mace wrinkles his brow, testing out the two names with no little amount of confusion. 

“Not exactly. The last planet we were on had a civil war brewing, so Obi-Wan and myself were dispatched to prevent it.” Mace pinches the bridge of his knows, the cracks around the group here are giving him a headache. The black-haired man looks at him with… sympathy? “One extremist must have thought our death would hasten a civil war, but it would not change anything.” She nods, before leaning back with a sigh. “And you are… protectors of this planet, Earth?”

“We’re the Avengers, well… some of them.” The long blonde haired man says, “I’m Thor.” Mace blinks a bit, swearing he’s heard that name.

“Thor… you wouldn’t be from…”

“Asgard.” He finishes, bouncing the hammer from hand to hand. 

Mace blinks before bowing hastily again, “Apologies. I knew the name was familiar. You must be the god of… was it thunder?” Thor nods, seemingly pleased and rather smug that someone’s recognised him. His attention turns to the skittish man at his side, “So… you must be Loki? His… cousin? No… brother.” He settles on. A dry smile stretches across Loki’s face as Thor pats his back, pounds it considering the amount of strength on those arms. 

“In the flesh.” He says softly. Mace blinks, something tickling the edges of his feeling in the Force. “You would be the warrior monks. 

Mace winces a bit at the description. It’s not the truth, but it is what most of the galaxy at large considers the truth. Jedi are a lot more than just warriors or monks, but few seem to understand it. “I… not exactly, but yes.”

“Warriors? These two?” Thor looks incredulously between Loki and Mace, “Did you see the other, he was practically the size of my finger?!” Loki looks pleadingly at Mace, as though asking him for forgiveness on Thor’s behalf. “Not to mention the lack of weapons. Man of iron has all those guns across his suit, but these two? They’re dressed in mother’s curtains.” Mace blinks. That’s a first. 

“They’re touched by what they call the Force.” Mace nods at Loki’s words. Gifted, cursed, there’s a multitude of ways people have referred to their Force sensitivity. “And a blade of… light.” 

“Indeed,” Mace confirms, pulling out his hilt. “A lightsaber.” He does not ignite it, only clipping it back to his belt. 

“You fight with… swords? Out in space?!” The man with a shield says. 

“You fight with what appears to be a shield…” Obi-Wan says, materialising quietly behind Mace. He has quiet steps, like most Jedi, cushioned ever so slightly with the Force. “I don’t think you’re in the position to judge.”

The man chuckles, chagrined but still in good humour, “I suppose not…”

“Master Windu. The repairs are done. Whoever tried sabotaging the ship did a truly awful job. I did not even have to replace it, simply jolt it into place.” Obi-Wan reports dutifully, idly floating the instrument towards the open bag. The team follow the movement. 

“Well, it appears we should be going,” Mace said to the group, bowing lowly. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Likewise,” The man with the shield says. Loki only stares at them, eyes unnervingly fixed on them. The rest of the team offers farewells. Tony, it seems, was rather impressed by the machinery if the glint in his eyes is anything to go by. Loki, Thor, Natasha, and the shield man all pile onto the ship after a while, lifting off and hovering some distance away. Tony results and similarly goes to the ship, floating beside it as Obi-Wan begins to pilot out of the planet. 

“An interesting planet,” Mace says once they’re comfortably in hyperspace, hurtling down back to Coruscant. 

“I suppose we’ll be hearing more from them soon enough. It seems that the man, Tony, might be able to create something similar to hyperdrives. At least… he was confident he could.” Obi-Wan says before flicking the autopilot on and slumping in his seat. 

“Go take a break. I’ll keep an eye on the controls.” Mace says upon feeling the fatigue in the Force. Obi-Wan lights up with embarrassment but complies, standing up and walking to his quarters. Indeed, Mace muses in the quiet cockpit, what an intriguing planet. 

[meteor752]

Hi! I read your Obi-Wan’s padawan post, and I really liked the character you created! You think you can write something with her????

Warnings: Angst, anger, self doubt, self hatred, self inflicted harm, mention of past slavery, mention of childhood abuse, body horror, me hating on the council despite the fact that I love at least half of them

Relationships: Only platonic ones, unfortunately (JK, but also not really)

Word count: 4801

Notes: Welp, you didn’t ask for anything specific, so that means you’re getting angst. If you wanna read about who the hell this character is, then you can find out about it here

Deep breaths.

That was the trick, that had always been the trick.

Deep breaths.

She’d been instructed as much when she was just four years old and still just a slave girl, by an older zeltron slave. He’d told her that if you just breathe, and keep yourself calm, then everything would be alright.

Everything was not alright, but Vera still clung to that idea.

Beside her Soka was talking, most likely asking her questions about what had just happened, but Vera was too focused on breathing to make out a single word the Togruta was saying.

Ani was pacing back and forth in front of the two Padawans, most likely muttering to himself considering the movement of his lips. Master Kenobi had entered his quarters the minute they got on the ship, mumbling something about the council, and he hadn’t come out since.

It was when Ani stopped pacing and looked towards the two that Vera snapped out of her thoughts as her Brother Padawan spoke.

“But how did you manage that?” He asked, his blue eyes looking into Vera’s brown, as if they were staring into her soul, judging it’s dark spots.

Vera didn’t answer. In fact, she had not said a word since her feet had hit the ground just an hour or two earlier. Whenever she tapped into the dark side she would usually do it as subtly as possible, but that hadn’t been an option.

They’d been attacked, from out of nowhere. They didn’t have any clones with them, there’d only been the four of them against thousands of battle droids.

They’d all almost died. Vera had been ready to just pass out from exhaustion, she’d been so tired and the blaster wounds hadn’t helped, when she’d seen the look in Soka’s eyes. She’d looked scared, worried, and also very tired.

Vera couldn’t have imagined the person she considered her sister to die in such a way, she deserved to live for a long time and take on padawans of her own.

So she’d snapped.

She’d ignored the pain in her side, she’d ignored her master and Ani calling after her, questioning what she was doing, she’d ignored the rules of the Jedi order.

She’d broken the barrier that stood between her and the dark side inside of her, and she’d taken out the entire army with just the cleansing of her fist.

Vera had expected the other three to be relieved, to be glad that they hadn’t died. Instead, when her eyes fell on them, they looked horrified.

And that was when she realized what she’d done.

“She used the dark side,” Soka answered, sounding tired. She really should check the wound on her arm when they get back, she lost a lot of blood.

“Yeah, but the dark side can’t do that!” Ani replied, throwing his hands in the air, “I mean, did you see her eyes?! There were six of them!”

Vera’s blood ran cold. She’d hoped that the beast would’ve been kept in check, but luck hadn’t been on her side. It was never on her side.

Despite the inner turmoil, she kept her face blank, and her eyes devoid of any emotion. Master Windu would be proud.

“Yeah well, while that might have been a bit odd,” Soka put a hand on her shoulder, and she did her best not to flinch at the touch, “She did save our lives.”

“Well, the Council won’t see it that way,” Ani slumped down on the opposite side of the two padawans, his arms crossed, “They won’t take this lightly, using the dark side to such an extent.”

Vera didn’t answer. The two continued talking between each other, sometimes addressing her, but she toned them out entirely.

They were right, the council would not be happy with her. She’d usually stayed on their good side, following orders and keeping quiet mostly, which when standing next to the duo that was Ani and Soka made her seem like the perfect Jedi. She wasn’t.

She was clingy, she was emotional, she was a liar, and she was a user of the dark side. She was just really good at hiding it all.

Except for this day, apparently.

Master Kenobi exited his quarters, his brow furrowed as if he was deep in thought, which he probably was. He always seemed to be nowadays.

Both Ani and Soka looked up when he did, and Vera carefully did the same, her brown eyes locked with his blue before he looked away.

“What did the council say?” Soka asked, leaning on her still injured arm like it was nothing.

“What did you tell the council?” Ani clasped his hands on the table, seemingly not noticing the trail of blood running down his temple. Those two really need to take better care of themselves.

Master Kenobi ran a hand through his hair, his eyes flickering between the three of them, “I told them that we were ambushed and that Vera needed to tap into the dark side to save us,” He sighed, sitting down beside Ani, “They request her presence when we reach Coruscant.”

Vera still showed no outer reaction, even though she was screaming inside. Her shields were up high, so they would not notice the distress in her force signature, though judging by the small glances Soka kept giving her she guessed that they weren’t high enough.

Vera took one of her light whips from her belt and started fiddling with it in an attempt to calm herself. It would usually work, as it reminded her that she was in control here, not one of her old slave masters, but it didn’t work this time. You can’t fight yourself out of a situation like this.

“Vera, are you alright?” Master Kenobi looked directly at her, she could feel it, but she refused to take her eyes off her lap. She couldn’t stand meeting that gaze.

“She hasn’t spoken,” Soka answered in her stead, ”I think she’s in shock.”

Shock? No, Vera was not in shock. In that regard she was fine. She was, however, absolutely terrified. Not only of the council but also of what the other three would think of her after what she did. They’d surely ask about the extra eyes, which would result in her coming clean about the beast. That probably scared her the most.

Vera bit into her lip, her sharp tooth immediately breaking the skin so the thick tasteful blood filled her mouth. Master Kenobi had told her multiple times not to do that, but sometimes it was hard not to.

“Vera please, we only wish to know what happened,” Master Kenobi’s voice sounded so kind and comforting that it almost hurt. She just wished to wrap herself in a blanket with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands while listening to that kind fatherly voice conversate with Soka and Ani and just forget everything that had happened.

But Vera remained quiet, fearing that she might say something wrong, and Master Kenobi simply sighed.

When the ship approached the landing pad of Coruscant, Vera had already prayed to everything she could think of for it to go well and that they could just forget all of it, and she most likely pray again.

***

“Do you care to inform us of what happened, Padawan River?” Mace Windu’s deep voice echoed in the council chamber, and it sent a chill down Vera’s back.

Every council member was there, she noticed, and sat silently while seemingly watching her every move. The only one not seated was Master Kenobi, who stood just beside her with his hands clasped behind his back.

Vera did not say anything. She had never liked talking to people with such a higher rank than her, a scar left behind from her days as a slave. Usually, when she was standing in front of the council she would let someone else do the talking, or just give single word answers.

She could not do that here.

“Padawan River?” Master Windu sounded impatient and annoyed, and it just scared Vera even more. She dug her nails into the palms of her hand, hoping the pain would distract her from what was happening, and she could feel a few drops of blood escape the wound.

“She has not spoken since it happened,” Master Kenobi excused, glancing briefly at her before looking back at Master Windu.

“I see,” He simply said, leaning back in his chair and looking at Master Yoda, “Well then Master Kenobi, why don’t you inform the council of what your Padawan did?”

“Well,” Master Kenobi cleared his throat while looking over at Vera once more, before looking away the second they made eye contact, “After the four of us were attacked and nearly, Vera unleashed an amount of force that could only be accessed by using the dark side, and she crushed the entire army while barely lifting a finger, saving our lives.”

Vera could see some members of the council turn to each other in surprise and shock, but instead of reacting she only dug her nails deeper into her palms.

“Anything else?” Master Kolar asked.

“Well-“ Master Kenobi sighed, “When she turned back towards us after the army was destroyed, she-“ Master Kenobi seemed to hesitate, and Vera prayed that he would just shrug it off and not say anything more, but the force was once again against her “-she had six eyes.”

“Six eyes?” Master Billaba questioned, furrowing her brows.

“Many things, the dark side can do. Change a person in that way, it can not,” Master Yoda said, looking towards Vera with his wise eyes, which always made her feel a bit uneasy. She looked away, glancing over the rest of the council until her eyes met Master Fisto’s, who did not have a look of surprise in his eyes as the rest of them, but more of a silent question.

Vera knew what that question was. She also knew that the answer needed to be given. She nodded her head once at him, and she could see him sigh.

“If I may-“ Master Fisto said, holding up his hand “-but the...extra eyes, has nothing to do with the dark side, Master Yoda.”

Vera bit her lip hard as Master Fisto told the council, told Master Kenobi, about the one time she’d slipped up, the one time the beast had been shown to other people.

She’d just been a youngling, still so new to the temple and her clan, and still not used to the fact that she wouldn’t be hung in chains if she did something wrong.

It had been their first swim lesson with Master Fisto. Timoa Vaplez, one of her clanmates who’d always liked messing with her, had pushed her into the water and she’d had a panic attack.

When Master Fisto had pulled her out of the water, she’d been more beast than humane, with the multiple extra set of eyes covering her face and neck, her jaw unhinged showing off the monstrous teeth and the tentacle-like things growing from her skull.

Master Fisto had calmed both her and her clan down and made her explain what the kriff that had been. She’d made him promise that he would not tell a soul about the beast (and he’d made her clan do the same thing), and the two had bonded a bit after it.

Every time Vera just felt like breaking down she would go to Master Fisto, who would either make her forget her problems with bad jokes or baking, or he would just hug her tightly, sending calm reassurances in the force. If Master Kenobi had not been her master, then she’d surely wanted Master Fisto as it.

Vera could feel Master Kenobi’s gaze on her as Master Fisto spoke, and she only bit even harder into her lip, not caring about the blood that was slowly filling her mouth. The pain wasn’t enough to distract her, it was never enough.

“A beast?” Master Windu questioned, looking directly at Vera.

“That was what she called it, yes,” Master Fisto answered.

“So what you’re saying, is that Padawan River has not only used the dark side on such a large scale to save those she was attached to, but she has also lied and kept secrets from the council for years?” Master Windu’s voice was so stern and cold that Vera just wanted to curl in on herself.

“Discuss this, we have to. Anything to say, do you?” Yoda’s eyes were turned to her again, though his gaze looked different. It was almost...pitiful. Vera desperately wanted back the wise but slightly judgmental look, it was easier to handle.

Vera had a lot she wanted to say. She wanted to defend herself, to apologize to her master, to explain why she did what she did, why she lied, but she couldn’t. No words were able to escape her mouth, so she just stayed silent.

***

They’d been waiting for almost two hours. Ani and Soka had originally been waiting with them, but Master Kenobi had sent them to the apartment the two of them shared, which was right next to theirs. He’d said that it would stress Vera out with so many people, but she knew that he just wanted to speak to her alone.

And he’d tried, he’d really tried to make her talk. He’d tried to ask about what happened and the beast, but when she hadn’t responded he’d tried to talk to her about everything. He’d even brought up both Maul and Mr Ohnaka just in an attempt to make her speak. Normally she would be babbling his ears off, as she loved speaking about the two but Master Kenobi never wanted to, sore subject she supposed, but she just didn’t feel like it.

She’d swallowed blood that had filled her mouth from biting her lips four times, and she knew that her master would be disappointed. The normally sweet taste of her own black blood tasted bitter on her tongue, and it made her want to gag.

Master Kenobi had left briefly to retrieve bandages for her hands that had started to fully bleed, and he’d scolded her for doing so, and she’d actually felt guilty about it for a second before her master's sad eyes reminded her of everything that had been going on, and the guilt of that overwhelmed the one about hurting herself.

She knew she could not be silent forever. She knew that when she did start talking again, Master Kenobi would want answers to both what happened and the beast and that she wouldn’t be able to avoid it then.

Still didn’t make it any easier.

***

It took them nearly four hours to be called back into the council chamber. Vera still hadn’t spoken, and at the third hour Master Kenobi had become legitimately concerned, forcing her to drink water as if it was because of a sore throat she didn’t talk.

She still had drunk the water, partly to stop worrying her master and partly to get the bitter taste of her own blood out. The cold icy liquid had felt really good against her throat though, and she’d almost asked for a second glass before she stopped herself. It wasn’t worth starting talking just for some water.

The council chamber was silent when they entered. It was usually silent, the council had never been too chatty with each other except when they had discussions, but it still unsettled Vera immensely.

Something was wrong, she could feel it.

“Master Kenobi, we apologize for the long wait,” Master Ti said. Vera had always liked Master Ti, she was kind and motherly and always reminded her of Soka, but while looking at her now she saw none of that maternal warmth, only an area of cold pity.

Master Kenobi didn’t answer her. His eyes were directed towards Master Yoda, who barely seemed to be present spiritually, with his closed eyes and closed off force signature.

“Master Kenobi, under normal circumstances, something like using the dark side to save people would be overlooked, if it would be the only option,” Master Windu sighed, “But using it on such a large scale, during who knows how many times, while also lying about something this important for years during these uncertain times, that is something we can’t ignore.”

Vera wanted to dig her nails into her palms again, but she didn’t want to destroy the bandage that her master had been so careful with. Instead, she tugged on her loose sleeves, just to have something to do with her hands.

“So, the council has discussed, and voted, and-“ Master Windu paused, now looking directly at Vera. For once she stood her ground and did not look away, despite every cell in her body screaming at her to do so “-Vera River, we hereby expel you from the Jedi order.”

It felt as if the entire galaxy froze the second those words came out of his mouth. Vera’s eyes widened, and she knew that if her skin weren’t already chalk-white she would have paled to the color of it.

Expelled.

As in, no longer a Jedi.

Which would mean that she had to leave the temple, leave her sister and brother padawan, leave her master.

It was said Master that pulled Vera out of her racing thoughts by putting a hand on her shoulder, squeezing tightly

“What?! You can’t- She-“ Master Kenobi seemed to stumble over his words, and when Vera sneaked a look at him he seemed to be as pale as she was.

“Do you have anything to say, Master Kenobi?” Master Mundi asked with a warning tone.

Vera knew he couldn’t change anything. The council’s decision was made, and there was nothing he could do to change that. But still, just the idea of him caring enough to defend her warmed her heart. Her heart was still raising and her hands shaking, but she hadn’t collapsed at least, so that was good.

Which is why Vera was surprised when no more words escaped her master's mouth. Instead, he just bowed his head down, mumbling something, and refusing to look at Vera.

So he didn’t care.

Well, that’s good to know.

Everything suddenly hurt. Her palms hurt from digging her nails in them, her lips hurt from biting them so much, her shoulder and knee hurt from being shot in them earlier, and her soul itself hurt.

He didn’t care.

Vera reached up and wrapped her slender fingers around the thin braid that was trailing down her back. She’d always been so proud of having it, of its great length and the green and yellow bands that were entwined in it. She could barely count the number of times that Soka and her had argued which was better, beads or natural hair.

She tugged harshly on it, ripping the hair from her skull and watched as it fell to her feet. It throbbed slightly on the place where it had been behind her ear, and she supposed that beads were better in this area.

She noticed how Master Kenobi stiffened when she pulled her braid out, but she didn’t care. Why would she?

Instead, she just turned on her heel and walked out of the council chamber, ignoring how Master Kenobi called her name, and tried to keep herself as calm as possible.

Though the moment she was out of the chamber, she ran. She ran, and ran, and ran. She needed to get out, she needed to quickly get to her and Master Kenobi’s apartment, collect her stuff, and then get off this planet.

Though it wasn’t really Master Kenobi anymore, was it? It was just Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master, while she was Vera River, a no one from nowhere.

It hurt even more to think about it.

She knew tears were trailing down her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The people she passed seemed concerned when they saw her, but it didn’t matter, did it? It was not like she would see any of them again.

She passed Barriss. She’d been one of Ahsoka’s best friends. While they had never been particularly close, she still cared for the Mirialan.

She passed Caleb. Caleb who was still so young, who idolized his master and did everything to be just like her, who would often get into heated arguments if Master Bilaba or Ani was better with Ahsoka.

She passed Amore. Amore who’d she’d known since she was just a youngling, the only one of her clanmates she still had contact with, who’d comforted her after the death of their other clanmate Tiivia.

Vera couldn’t stand it, couldn’t stand thinking about everyone she would lose like this.

She must have zoned into herself, as the next thing she knew she was just outside her and Kenobi’s apartment. She could hear muffled voices from the apartment next to it, Soka and Ani’s apartment, but she couldn’t enter. She just needed to get her stuff and leave.

She didn’t bother fumbling with her keys, she simply just forced the door open and closed it as quietly as she could behind her, so Soka and Ani wouldn’t hear that she was there. She didn’t want to talk to them about why she was missing her braid, and why she was packing her stuff.

The apartment was tidy as it always was. Unlike Soka and Ani’s place that had droid parts, food wrappings, and clothes all over the place, both Vera and Kenobi made sure to keep their place clean. It had always been a fun activity to do together when they just needed an excuse to relax, and Vera had always looked forward to it.

She was on her way to her quarters to grab a bag and some clothes, but she stopped in her tracks when she noticed her blanket laying on the couch where she’d put it just a few days earlier.

The blanket was old and itchy and was an absolutely disgusting shade of green, but it smelled of tea, and oil, and grease, and raw meat, and hot cocoa, and all the smells that made her think of her little family. Whenever she would sit on the couch she would wrap herself in the blanket and just take in the smell and the memories that came with them, and just attempt to forget about the ongoing war.

Vera reached out her hand and pulled it towards her using the force. It was not hers, not really, it had apparently belonged to Qui-Gon when he was still a padawan, but she still felt as if she could keep it. She had saved their lives, after all, she must get something for that.

Vera clutched the blanket almost greedily as she entered her quarters, which looked just like she’d left them. She tried not to pay any mind to it as she pulled some of her clothes out of her trunk and stuffed them into a bag, not even bothering with folding them.

She only had one cloak that wasn’t a Jedi Robe, a black one with dark red details that Soka had given her once. She took it, leaving the rest behind.

It was with her light whips that she hesitated. Should she take them? Was she allowed to? She had constructed them, they were hers, but it would be a painful reminder of the life she was shut out of. She ended up bringing them with her, as she’d never been too great with a blaster, and it was always good to have a way to defend yourself. There was a war going on after all.

She pulled the bag over her shoulder and tried to leave the apartment quickly, but the force was really against her today.

“Vera!” Soka called out, entering the apartment door just as Vera exited her room. “You’re back!”

Vera didn’t reply. Instead, she looked at the door that was still open, trying to calculate her odds of getting out of there if she just bolted.

“Where’s Obi-Wan?” Ani asked as he entered the apartment right after her, looking around as if he would be hiding behind a corner.

Karking hell. Ani was strong, broad-shouldered, and powerful in the force. If he wouldn’t feel the fact that she planned to run, he would surely stop her. She could push him away, or use her whips, but a fight was the last thing she wanted, so she simply closed the door to her quarters and bit her lip hard.

“How’d it go with the council?” Soka asked walking further from the way out.

“What are you doing?” Ani asked, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows.

Vera didn’t know which question would be harder to answer. Both made her feel pretty terrible inside, so she did not answer either of them.

Instead, she moved towards the door calmly, to the surprise of the two people in front of her.

She was almost out the door, almost out to freedom, when Ani grabbed ahold of her arm. She stopped, glancing up at him, and felt her blood run cold when she realized what he was looking at. He wasn’t looking at her, not really, instead, he was looking at the place behind her right ear where her Braid was located. Or, had been located.

It seemed to take Ani a second to realize what it meant, but Vera could pinpoint the moment that he did, considering how his eyes widened and his grip loosened. It gave her a chance to pull her arm free and bolt, not caring if they would chase after her or not.

She didn’t want to answer the questions. She didn’t want to tell them about what the order had said, what it had done, and how Kenobi had been silent about it.

Vera must have zoned out again, because the next thing she knew she was far away from the apartment building close to the temple, and instead on her way to rent a ship and a pilot. It was during moments like this that she wished that she could fly without crashing.

She pulled the hood over her head and tried to keep her head down, while keeping her hands on her light whips. Soka had told her of how once a pickpocketer had stolen her lightsaber, and Vera was not risking that.

Vera had no set goal in mind, but she was thinking of Wecacoe. She had no good memories of her home planet, but maybe she could find out what she was and why her family had given her up to slavery. If not, she could always take revenge on her old slave masters. Revenge may not be the Jedi way, but she was no longer a Jedi, was she?

She felt his force signature just as she entered the first hangar she could find, and she contemplated just turning around and walking out then and there. But she couldn’t, this was the only hangar she knew of that was close, and she wanted to get off the planet as soon as she could.

She hadn’t expected to be able to enter and hire a pilot though, she knew that he would confront her, which was why she was not surprised when Obi-Wan Kenobi grabbed ahold of her arm.

“Vera, please,” He sounded exhausted when he spoke, and when Vera met his eyes she could see that he was, among other things. He looked tired, desperate, sad, upset, and almost scared. Kenobi had always been good at hiding his feelings, apart from a few twinkles in his eyes, but now he was practically showing them off to the whole galaxy to see.

“What,” Vera snarled, her voice a bit hoarse because of its lack of use. Kenobi seemed surprised at the fact that she had spoken, but he didn’t let go of her arm.

“Vera, you know there’s nothing that I could have done,” He sounded almost pathetic, and it just felt wrong. He was supposed to be witty, and sly, and strong, and wise, not-

It didn’t matter.

“We both know that’s not quite true,” Vera hissed back, attempting to pull her arm loose so she could flee, but his grip was tight.

“Why did you never tell me about what you are?”

“Because I was scared!” She yelled, pulling on her arm harshly which finally managed to get it free, but she stayed where she was and stood her ground, “The beast is not me, it’s something else, something wild and untamable, and it scares me to death,” Her voice was wavering, and she knew that soon it would start to break, but it didn’t matter, “I was a child, kriff I still am, and to have something as that be apart of you is terrifying!”

“I could have helped, all three of us could have helped,” Kenobi argued back, his voice still weak. She didn’t like it, she wanted it to be loud and upset like her own raspy voice.

“How would I have expected you to help, Kenobi, when the moment I needed you the most, you bit your tongue like a coward,” Vera could see how he flinched, and it felt good. It felt justified.

Vera turned her back to him and fully walked into the hangar, and to her surprise, she was not followed. Good.

If Vera would have looked behind her, she would have seen the dark shadow looming behind her, and how it’s dark red eyes seemed almost delighted as it followed her, as it had done for years.

[honeylikewords]

What’s this?! My favorite writer is now trying her hand at Peter 🅱️ Parker?!?! *i place an offering of candies and honey at your feet* Please, if you have any: some hcs for this foolish soul...

Aw, shucks, I’m your favorite? That’s so darn sweet of you to say! I feel so honored to be someone’s favorite writer! I accept the candies and honey and, in return, here are some Peter B Ponderings for you!

( @regrettablewritings, It He)

General, Non-Romantic Thoughts/HCs:

Peter is actually lowkey lactose intolerant. It was worse pre-bite, meaning he basically could never have cheese or milk without getting horribly ill, and while it’s better nowadays (with the combination of age, practice, and enhanced health from the spider bite), he still gets a tummy ache if he ingests too much dairy. That being said… he always ingests too much dairy. He just loves that good, good pizza cheese too much to resist. 

Peter collects a lot of knick-knacks and tchotchkes. He makes jokes about it being tacky to own one’s own merch, but he does admit he has a fondness for some of the Spidey memorabilia he sees around New York. He’s been known to go to conventions (as a photographer for the paper, documenting the events with his press badge) and end up wandering the artists’ alleys, sometimes buying their unlicensed Spidey stickers or handmade plushies. He thinks it’s sweet that people care that much.

On a similar note, if a child EVER gives him ANYTHING meant for him/Spidey, he keeps it. Every time. Even in his lowest, grouchiest state, he always kept things made for him by children and never declined them. He keeps everything in a filing cabinet in his home, and a couple more in the Spider-Shed/his hideout. The Spider-Shed is wall-to-wall covered in drawings children have made for him, letters from kids he’s saved or who admire him, pictures of him posing with kids who asked for a photo op with their favorite hero. It keeps him motivated: do it for the people who look up to him.

Speaking of his hideout, which is technically on May’s property, Peter B. owns Aunt May’s home. After she passed away, she left the house to him in the will, so he does own it. The only reason he didn’t immediately move in there (and instead got that crappy loaner apartment) was because he felt it would be too big to be in all alone, much less all alone with all the painful memories. He was in a dark, hurting place in his life, and the idea of living in his childhood home without his mother figure, without his loved ones… it ached too badly to even think about. So, instead, he put all of May’s things in storage and rented the house out temporarily. However, after the events of Spider-Verse, he decided to move in, feeling better about himself and his future. It’s what May would have wanted: for him to go home.

Peter is an 80′s kid (born in 1981!), so he has a fondness for the stuff he grew up with, while still being able to enjoy newer things. That being said, he’s a bit of an old coot and codger about certain things. For example, he hated the Star Wars prequels and, if probed, will go on a rant about how they almost destroyed the Star Wars franchise and how, if he could, he’d go back in time and slap George Lucas silly for trying to make all that happen. “Mace Windu is the ONLY good thing about the prequels,” he hisses. “The O N L Y good thing.”

On that note, Peter does actually still own VHS tapes and a player that he keeps fully functional. He’s very techy, very gifted with computers, and very capable of keeping up with every detail of the technical realm, but he also has a fondness for older, clunkier, almost ‘analog’ machines. Plus, there’s just something pleasing to him about the pop and crackle and fuzz of a VHS tape. He has all of his childhood/teenage tapes still, and insisted May never throw away their tapes. Every movie they ever owned is preserved, and he can go back and revisit them any time he pleases. Sometimes, when he’s working on a new gadget, tinkering away at his workbench, he’ll put on a VHS in the background and just let the movie play itself out while he works. He often plays the original Star Wars films, The Goonies, or Jurassic Park. Sometimes he’ll pop in VHSes he recorded of original Star Trek episodes or something like Quantum Leap. He likes sci-fi stuff the best.

Peter’s hair is Like That because it’s the one thing he actually bothers grooming. May used to always get on his case as a kiddo because he had messy hair, and it was the one aspect of his grooming he could control (he didn’t grow facial hair for quite some time, so this was just about the only thing he could do for most of his adolescence and young adulthood), so he knows to at least bother to brush it over. Every time he does it, he can imagine May standing in the bathroom door, watching him brush his hair, and remember the way she’d pinch his cheek and call him “the handsomest boy in Queens”. It makes him smile.

Peter is slightly far-sighted, needing reading glasses. His eyesight was, for the most part, fixed with the spider-bite, but that mostly just gave him incredible long-distance vision. Up close, however, especially now that he’s a touch older, he needs a little help.

Peter B. Parker is, of course, Jewish. He still practices and regularly visits synagogue, and has done a number of community efforts both in and out of the suit. Spider-Man is welcomed at a number of institutions of faith in New York, and Peter has been to at least one service at each (he’s attended church, mosque, temple, synagogue, et cetera) while in the suit. He’s very proudly Jewish, as evidenced by his wedding, and happy to be part of the community.

Peter likes going to the movies, but has found that, now that he’s getting older, if the movie isn’t very good, he might just doze off and fall asleep. It’s embarrassing how many times he’s been caught at the local theatre, slouched in his seat, snoring into his half-empty popcorn bucket. Sometimes the workers will mistake him for a homeless man, and the number of times he’s had to show ID and prove that he’s not homeless is… even more embarrassing.

Peter doesn’t eat too exotically, but he’s willing to try lots of things. He lives in New York, after all, one of the most densely interculturally populated cities in the world! He’s open to experimenting and seeing what lies in the unprobed realms of cuisine. But don’t offer him anything like live animals, slimy stuff, “prairie oysters”, eyeballs, et cetera. Sometimes, you just need to pass on the more questionable dining experiences.

Peter, absolutely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, cannot dance. This video is a reference to how he dances.

Peter thinks white chocolate tastes like grease, dark chocolate is too bitter, and only super processed milk chocolate is good. This guy eats whole boxes of Goobers, too, just because he likes the chocolate. “I try to ignore the peanuts,” he says around a mouthful.

Peter B. Parker has been hit by several taxis. He now hates taxis.

Peter B. Parker has a love-hate relationship with the new Star Wars sequels. He also thinks Poe Dameron is mad hot, but somehow familiar. Where does he know that voice…?

Peter’s favorite time of year is winter. Summer is a b o m i n a b l e in New York, spring’s fine, autumn beautiful, but Peter loves a good, chilly, brisk winter’s day, and the promise of snow. He doesn’t get especially cold in the suit, either, since it’s perfectly designed to always maintain thermodynamic equilibrium. 

Peter loves a good, hard hug. Especially if it’s hard enough to pop his back a little. He’s more of an ‘acts of service’ affectionate kind of guy, but he can really appreciate a good, strong, loving hug. And if it alleviates a little of that pressure in his spine? Well, all the better!