#post rebels

[robotsandramblings]

just saw someone refer to Ezra Bridger as "whaleboy" and now all i can think of is Jacen (or Sabine) constantly saying "wouldn't you like to know, whaleboy"

[flilisskywalker]

Ezra: How is everything down there? Sabine: Shut up. I'm not that short. Ezra: I can rest my chin on your head. Sabine: Ezra Bridger, if you do this, I swear... Ezra: *rests his chin on her head* Sabine: *blushes* That's not bad. That's not bad at all. Ezra: The advantages of being taller than you. Sabine: Don't ruin the moment.

[kalluzeb4later]

On Lira San, Kallus is in on ALL the gossip!

Kallus shares it off handedly to Zeb who shakes his head and wonders how he knows everything or anything before him

He was an intelligence officer, an ISB agent, and he is just so novel and friendly and courteous to all the locals they can’t help but spill everything to him. They give him all the CHISME 🧀 on a silver platter

[gia-batmm-crickle22]

Just a normal day of beating the hell out of Ronan. Ezra got used to it after a while lol

[cinno2]

thinking of making a post-rebels era comic about Ahsoka and Sabine trying to find Ezra and Thrawn.

do you guys have headcanons about what happens to the 4 of them after the end of rebels?

let me know! i want to brainstorm the storyline and would love to hear what everyone thinks happens. also are there things you DONT want to see happen with any of the characters?? let me know that as well

[caelus-the-lothrat]

The Eyes: Chapter 1 - The River

Thrawn X GN!Reader

For a while, you had been noticing strange eyes in the trees when you would take walks down your favorite river. It was strange and startling at first but quickly became comforting… until you figured out who those eyes belonged to.

~Warnings/Tags~ wlw mentioned | potential | violence post rebels | a bit of a slow burn (sorry not sorry) an attempt was made at writing a southern accent very long series | this chapter is world building basically. NOT BETA'd we die like clones

As a child, your parents raised you to love everything around you, from the tallest mountains to the tiny insect who were always spotted hiding under rocks or in the hollow logs of fallen trees. As you grew you found places where you enjoyed spending the most time, the meadows of small wildflowers, and the rolling hills on which your family home was built. But the most special place was the river. The river was always changing, there was always a new critter swimming in its water, new rocks on the shore, and new waves passively moving through. It felt as if you were always going to a new place when you visited the river.

________________________________________________

One Warm Summer afternoon, while the sun was at its peak, you decided to visit the river. It was the perfect place to beat the summer heat while still investigating the world around you, so you grabbed your small leather satchel and headed for the path which led to the river. The path was well worn from your years of traversing it, you could predict where every stone sat, where every root peaked above the small patches of grass that remained throughout the years. As you finally reached the river you could hear the rushing of water and taste the moisture in the air. It was refreshing and as soon as you reached the edge you pulled your boots off and stepped into the cool current of the river.

You waded around until the water reached your kneecaps, that was as far as you could go before the current would try to sweep you away somewhere downstream. You looked up to the sky, trying to gauge what time it was by the position of the sun, but the trees blocked your view. You took a silent moment to search the trees with your eyes to see if there was a spot you could look through, but all you came across were critters scampering across branches and the subtle waving of leaves in the breeze. You turned your eyes back to the riverbed, thinking that the most fascinating thing to do would be to look for rocks and small stones. perhaps there would be something you have yet to find, something to add to the collection you started as a child.

You took your time walking up and down the river over and over again until you had memorized what lurked beneath the water. you even attempted to catch a small turtle, but boredom soon took over your mind. You had hoped there would be more things out at this hour, but your hopes were misled. Until a large crack caught your attention from across the river.

Your head spun towards the noise. You quickly discovered that it was a broken branch, now hanging only by a small chunk of wood still attached to the tree. There was nothing that frequented the river that could ever break a branch, so out of pure curiosity, you decided to investigate. 

You pulled on your boots, grabbed your bag, and headed towards the nearest fallen tree that could be safely used as a crossing. You walked up to the tree and looked around its tops, then rummaged through the bushes at its base. There was nothing, it must have left. You pondered what could have happened, maybe this tree was old, and its branch was too weak to hold even a small critter. Then as you looked at the trunk of the tree you noticed scratch marks. Not of claws, but fingernails. Comparing it to your hand you noticed the fingers were abnormally long, almost as if it… you shook your head. Now was not the time to be wondering what new was lurking in these woods.

Now you decided to head home. There was no spaceport on this planet, so it was very unlikely something new had been imported. So, whatever did this… it wasn’t from here.

You turn and swiftly run back across the fallen tree bridge, but before you entered the path you turned to look back at the river. Your mind then raced at the possibility of what you saw across the water again.

Eyes…

Red Eyes…

You didn’t take a second to process what you saw. you simply sprinted. moving as fast as you could. Tripping over rocks and roots. You could hear your blood beating in your ears. When you came up to your house, you didn’t bother with using the steps to your front door, instead deliberately hopping up as many as you could then sliding through your partially open door and slamming it behind you.

You took a deep breath then slowly slid down the door. It was only a few moments later before your parents came to see why you were causing a ruckus. Your momma had her usually worried look on her face as she walked over to you. while your mom leaned over the couch, data pad in hand with the most “what did my kid do now” look you’ve only ever been able to label as the ‘mom stare’.

Your momma rubbed your shoulders as she helped you calm down, the pure dash of adrenaline that helped you get home so fast was now hindering your ability to breathe properly. Once your breath had recovered to enough of a stable motion you began to explain what you saw, the loud crack, the broken branch and then the eyes. Your momma held onto every word, as she usually did when she thought you were telling a pretty fictitious story and your mom held her ‘mom stare’.

“well, I’m sure it’s nothing you really need to worry about” your momma soothingly said, “perhaps some of the mountain tooka’s decided to come down for a little bit of hunting before the fall season hits”

“I don’t think so, the claw marks-“ you retorted

“Hun, it could’a also been somebody’s pet” mom quickly added “all’a those rich folk’s up north bring’n their exotic animals on vacation with ‘em, probably let’n 'em lose when they get bored of ‘em” you could hear the layer of distain in mom’s voice. She used to say that all they brought was trouble and smell of burnt fuel.

“alright I think we have pondered this enough” momma declared, she always seemed to change the subject when mom got all worked up over the new settlers

Turning to mom, momma reached out for her hand and spoke in a tone of poorly veiled irritability “darling how about you help me make something for dinner, then we can just relax in the safety of our lovely home.”

“of course, love” mom replied

You could tell this was going to lead into one of their usual ‘you need to be nicer to the new settlers’ chats you never wanted to be apart of.

Pulling yourself of the floor you made your way towards the stairs. Just like the world outside, you have memorized each step. you can see how warn the pattern is on the carpet lining them from years of being stepped on. Making your way up you look at all of the photos your momma had printed, your entire life on a wall. Strange to think about, your life is still so childish even if you’re a grown adult, its almost as if you never truly grew up.

Chucking yourself you made it to the landing on the top of the stairs. The sunlight beamed through the partially opened window. The curtains waving through the breeze. What made you all of sudden analyze the environment you grew up in. perhaps this little scare really put something in perspective. Probably not, this is most likely just boredom tickling your mind.

Reaching past a vase your mom has had longer than you’ve been alive, you closed the window and wondered down the hall into your room. it of course was exactly how you left it. the shelf of rocks still slight had the slight bend in it from all of the weight, your bed still as messy as when you rolled out of it.

you placed the strap of your bag over the back of your desk chair and flopped onto your bed.

the rest of the day was spent scrolling through the holonet trying to find something that matched what could have done that, and that had those red eyes.

dinner was just as quiet and when you went off to bed your mind just couldn't quit. you ended up just watching the clouds and the stars until you enviably drifted to sleep.

~Part 2~

[xiaguangmagpie]

Buuai (ceremony)

Many bittersweet burdens sank to the floor of Hera’s heart as she landed her faithful ship near a grassland clearing. A few weeks ago The Liberation of Lothal had been won at great cost, and several issues weighed her down.

Fallout.

Consequences. 

Ezra.

Her chest tightened as she thought of the boy who was now a man, where it mattered most - in the choices he had made. Kanan would be so proud of him. Another pang echoed inside her. Kanan wasn’t here to be proud with her. That was the whole point of today. She closed her eyes to hold back the tears…

She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. She and Chopper headed to the exit ramp and lowered it. They walked out into the summer evening’s light. The sweet smelling meadow grass swayed in the warm breeze. A petal was lifted off a flower and floated around before settling at her feet. Something was gently chirping nearby.

“Hera?” Sabine called softly, for she had promised to meet her here and walk with her. Zeb and everyone else was already ahead of them. One escort for the path was Taan tradition. Hera squinted as she stepped out, and spotted the young Mandolorian - and her outfit.

“Wow, Sabine,” Hera gasped a little.

“It’s a lot, I know…” Sabine said. Hera immediately crossed the small distance and hugged her.

“It’s beautiful. Kanan would be very, very honoured. He loved you too, so much.” Hera reassured her, then stepped back for another look.

Sabine was clean and pressed and red. Her hair was red. Her new kute was red. Her armour had been stripped down to the shiny beskar and repainted in red and only red. She was honouring her lost parent from head to toe. Sabine had described it to her, explained the meaning, but seeing the effect was different. 

“You look good too,” Sabine whispered shakily.

Hera was wearing clothes Sabine had never had occasion to see. It had three main components. First, a set of layered tunics made from a gauzy, lightweight fabric in the colour of Ryloth’s sand. Second, tablet woven sashes that drew in the layers, at elbow and waist and such. These were in clan Syndulla colours. Finally, a wide strip of the same fabric of the tunics was gently wrapped around her head and lekku, held in place with smaller sashes at the ends of her lekku. This fabric was embroidered in the Ryloth language with all of the information on her Kalikori.

It was called the Buuai.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it seems a bit pretty for a funeral,” Sabine said.

“No offense taken,” Hera replied, and her mouth quirked…

They walked together in the path between the grasses, and came to the ceremony site that Ryder had arranged. Just over the hills, perhaps a kilometer or two away, was the glassy plateau where the Lothal temple had been. To the west was the village whose land this cemetery belonged to. In the center of the clearing was a massively tall tree, with broad limbs and leaves casting shade and standing guard. Hera and Sabine came to a stop. They were here. In front of them in two lines was the group of friends who had gathered together for closure.

Sabine and Chopper went ahead and took places in the lines. Everyone then stepped forward and raised their hands and joined them to create an arch. Hera stepped forward and walked through to the end. When she was at the other end they let go, stepped back, and turned to face forward and all sat down on the ground. Hera looked at the box in front of her, what had been found at ground zero, and sat down too before she could fall down. Ryder stood up to begin the speech.

“We are gathered here today to say goodbye to Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight…”

Later when it was over, and Kanan had been laid to rest, plaque put in place, and tears shed by all, Hera had walked back to the Ghost. Her friends were too good to leave her alone for long, but she wanted a moment to herself before heading to the place where a meal was prepared.

She stood in front of the mirror in her cabin, examining herself. It was a very versatile garment, meant to last a lifetime of occasions. The way the tunics were layered and the way the sashes were tied all had different meanings. Buuai meant ceremony, and just as funerals were one type, so were weddings.

She looked at herself in the mirror, and for the first time in a long time, she smiled, and a weight lifted.

Note: a bit ambiguous but Hera really is wearing the Buuai in the wedding style… because wearing it this way to a funeral is a custom reserved for the widow of the deceased. Follow this link for further notes, including a playlist to cry over :D

@laughingphoenixleader @kanerallels @accidental-spice @yubsie @sidesofmayo @ladywren7 @iknowwhattosaynow @chaoticdumbassrogue @firefoxtessa @the-mandawhoreian @marveledtardis

[creepygoth666]

Okay so I just had this (mostly one sided cause my passion over it took over) conversation about Thrawn post Empire and I had to share it. I know it'll never happen in a billion years, but.

Just gonna post the screenshots cause it's a lot to retype.

And like when I say "idiot" in the last one I mean just politically. He has no idea how to play the game at all. He brought in others to run politic games for him.

But yeah. He literally set up all this with the empire for the Ascendancy - getting control of a fleet, creating the tie defenders - to help fight the grysks and all his years worth of work, gone.