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bikananjarrus · 2 months ago

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kanera week 2024 - day 2

prompt: reunion

rating: gen | word count: 3.5k | ao3 link

[note: sorry for the delay on this one! this was supposed to be much shorter than it is, but, well. you know how it is. this is a kanan lives au feat. post-battle reunion on endor (and more kanan + ghost crew feelings about the end of the war than expected, hence why this is about 2k longer than planned!). ezra is still missing and jacen has not been born yet in this au]

They stood together at the top of the Ghost’s lowered ramp, foreheads pressed together, Kanan’s hands resting on her waist, Hera’s curled into the lapels of his jacket. Kanan refused to think this was the last time he would hold her like this.

Base was alive and bustling around them. Officers ran back and forth across the landing bay, handing off reports, updating orders, some of them practically doing hurtles over droids that trundled through with supplies. Ground teams prepped for landing on Endor’s forest moon. Pilots rushed to their ships, readying to launch to their first jump point and wait for the go-ahead from General Solo’s ground team before following General Calrissian’s assault on the second Death Star. Hera was one of those pilots.

They had minutes left before Kanan needed to join Zeb and Kallus with their ground team, and Hera needed to ready the Ghost for take-off.

He knew that anyone could see up the Ghost’s ramp, see the two of them embraced as they were. It wasn’t exactly like his and Hera’s relationship was a secret. But he knew how much Hera valued keeping things professional in public. As a general, she had an image to maintain. He respected that. And at times, it made it all the more fun when they got a chance to sneak off for a few precious moments of alone time.

But right now, he didn’t care if anyone saw them. Hera must not have minded either, because she didn’t seem too keen on letting him go.

Her fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the front of his jacket. “Promise me you’ll be careful.” While he couldn’t see her face, he thought her chin might be trembling, because her next words came out in a wobbly whisper. “Promise me you’ll come back to me.”

Kanan pressed a kiss right between her creased brows. “I promise, love.” Another kiss to the tip of her nose. “I’ll have Zeb and Rex watching my back. Kallus, too, I suppose.” That made her chuckle and he smiled in turn. “I’m more worried about you.”

A firefight on the ground was one thing. Dangerous, of course. At times unpredictable, hard to navigate a battlefield, especially in unfamiliar territory. But, even with the odds stacked against them, a ground fight allowed more opportunities to turn those odds in their favor.

A dogfight in the blackness of space was another thing entirely. The whole battle map was laid out before you, with nothing to stand between you and the laser-fire of enemy ships except skill and the cold vacuum of the cosmos.

Hera was the greatest pilot he’d ever seen. But all it took was one wrong move and she would be nothing but stardust.

“You’ve got Zeb and Rex. I’ve got Sabine and Chopper.”

“We should’ve just offered to smuggle Chopper onboard the Death Star. He’d have that thing imploding in no time.”

Hera laughed softly again, sweeping one hand up to cup his jaw. Her thumb brushed over the apple of his cheek, then a little higher to the edge of the scar that ran beneath his eyes. She kissed him with sound reassurance. “I’ll be careful,” she vowed against his lips. “Promise.”

She kissed him once more, and then started to pull back. Kanan didn’t want her to—but if they didn’t separate now, he wasn’t sure he’d have the strength to walk away from her.

Kanan’s hands were still loosely gripping Hera’s when he heard the familiar rumble of Chopper’s wheels against the ramp, just a moment before Sabine announced her presence with a boisterous, “Who’s ready to blow up another Death Star?”

He chuckled, at last letting go of Hera to stretch his arms out for Sabine instead. She stepped fully into his hug. He ruffled the back of her freshly cut mullet (he’d sat in the ‘fresher with her while she’d cut her hair the other night, describing the process and the bright orange to buttery yellow gradient she’d dyed it with) and she swatted at his hand playfully, twirling out of his grip.

“You know, for some of us, this is a first time experience,” he pointed out, barely containing a grin. “Some of us were in a coma when the first Death Star blew up.”

He could practically feel Sabine and Hera rolling their eyes simultaneously.

Sabine gave his shoulder a playful shove. “Yeah, yeah, we know. Please—tell us again how you very heroically almost got blown up.”

Kanan laughed, then reached through the air until he found Hera’s hand again. He joked about his near-death—very, very near-death—experience on Lothal years ago now; they were in a place now that they could all make fun about it. But he gave her fingers a light squeeze, silently conveying that, despite his joking, he knew how serious it had been. How close she’d come to losing him. She wouldn’t lose him this time, either.

She squeezed his hand back, thumb pressing into the back of his fingerless gloves and the burn scars underneath. “It’s time to go.”

His chest tightened at the words. “Yeah.”

Still, he didn’t let go. He could feel her gaze on him, drinking him in.

For the millionth time since Malachor, Kanan wished he could see her—really see her. He wanted to rememorize the exact shade of green of her skin, her eyes. He wanted to see the half-smile she got when she was planning something brilliant or devious or both. He wanted to see the way her cheeks flushed when he kissed her, wanted to see the exact way her mouth curved around the syllables of his name.

Since that wasn’t possible, he instead sank into the Force. It danced around her in a steady, but brilliant flow, and he grounded himself in that feeling, breathing easier with each of her exhales.

Kanan kissed her one more time. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” she whispered back.

They stood close for a few precious seconds more. Then in one swift movement, he pulled away, striding down the ramp to put distance between them.

“Be careful,” she called after him.

With a two-finger salute and a cheeky grin, he replied, “Aye aye, General. See you on the other side.”

The next thirty-six hours passed in waves—time speeding by in the blink of an eye one hour and dragging onto eternity the next. The chaos and necessity of battle made it relatively easy to focus on the mission at hand. But that didn’t stop Kanan from casting his mind out into the Force whenever he got the chance, searching for Hera.

Over and over, he sensed that she was okay. He was sure, down to his bones, that he would know if something was wrong. Her presence in the Force was as familiar as his own; he would feel it if something happened.

But that didn’t stop worry from gripping him like a cold hand latched around his spine.

Especially when the battle ended. And it did end.

Blaster fire stopped whizzing past his ears and cheers—from rebel and Ewok alike—erupted around the battlefield. He could feel others jostling around him, sense their upward gazes, hear the affirmation from all around him, “Look! The Death Star! They did it!”

Kanan couldn’t see it, of course—but he’d already known. He’d felt it when it happened, the Death Star’s destruction. Countless lives snuffed out at once; Like the exhale of a giant beast. The sensation of a distant space explosion beneath his feet; but maybe that was actually the tremor of Endor’s moon, shaking with the force of the blast.

More than that—through the Force—light.

Kanan had never felt the Force like this. He didn’t realize how…muffled it had been up until now. Akin to suddenly having a great, downy blanket torn off in one’s sleep. The contrast was sharp, bright. But refreshing.

The Force was what it was. It wasn’t light or dark on its own; it just was. And while no one being could truly have so much power as to control the entirety of it, Emperor Palpatine must have been powerful indeed to cast so much darkness over the Force for all these years.

Kanan staggered under the lightness he felt. He sucked in a deep breath, lungs expanding all the way. The sensation stretched his face in a wide smile, tears of pure, unadulterated joy pricking at his eyes.

“We’re free,” he whispered.

He swore he felt the brush of a ghostly hand on his shoulder.

Master, he thought, closing his eyes. We’re free. For a moment, the smell of smoke dissipated from the air, replaced only with the greenery around him and the spiced floral scent that had floated around Master Billaba in days long passed.

Her presence drifted away on the breeze and Kanan’s heart lifted with it.

With one thing left to do, Kanan reached for his comm on his belt, toggling it to their crew’s private channel. “Spectre One to Ghost. Come in, Spectre Two.”

Silence followed for a few impossibly long seconds. His throat tightened, and he tried to swallow down the fear.

Maybe the Death Star’s explosion had overridden any other feeling in the Force. Maybe she had been caught in the blast and he didn’t even know—

A crackle of static. Followed by her smiling voice, “Ghost to Spectre One. We read you loud and clear.”

He sighed in happy relief. “Copy that, Ghost. You all good up there?”

This time it was Sabine’s voice over the comms, sounding more victorious than she had in a long time. At least since before the Empire destroyed Mandalor, Sabine having just barely gotten her family out in time. “Better than good. You?”

Kanan twisted in place, reaching out with the Force. He had gotten separated from Zeb, Kallus, and Rex in the fight. “I’m fine. The others—”

“We’re all safe,” Zeb’s voice sounded over the channel. “I’ve got Kal and Rex here with me.”

“Glad to hear it. We’ll be joining you planetside shortly,” Hera said. And then, even though they were still on comms with everyone else, she added just for him, “See you soon, love.”

While he waited for the Rebel fleet to start landing on the moon, Kanan busied himself helping with triage. Andor and Erso had been put in charge of setting up a temporary med station while they waited for their primary medical frigate to arrive in friendly space. He helped with getting the wounded to the tented off area.

After helping the team who was clearing major debris out of the way, Zeb found him, Kallus and Rex trailing behind. Kallus gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze, but he was hauled into a hearty hug by Rex a second later.

“We did it, Commander,” Rex said, his gruff voice even rougher than usual, tinged with emotion as it was.

“We did it,” Kanan echoed.

Rifling in his pack as he pulled back, Rex grabbed Kanan’s hand and pressed something into it. “Here. Just in case you’re getting tired. I see yours fell off your belt.”

Kanan recognized the weight and feel of his extra probing cane immediately.

(Sabine had painted it, of course, telling him, “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t look nice.” Still, she’d taken care to layer the paint over and over in a design comprised of swirls and whorls, the paint just raised enough that he could make it out with the touch of his fingertips).

“Thanks,” he said with a grateful smile. He was a bit worn out, having relied on the Force to see the entirety of the battle. And the cane he kept attached to his belt had gotten knocked off at some point during the day, lost amongst the foliage of Endor.

For the moment, though, he hooked this one onto his belt too. He had one more person to greet.

Kanan turned to where he could sense Zeb, and no sooner was he facing Zeb’s direction before the lasat was barreling into him, enveloping him in a huge hug.

Zeb was one of the few people in the galaxy who understood what Kanan was feeling in a way that many others didn’t—the Empire that had almost entirely destroyed both their peoples’ in its rise to power. Though the fight against the Empire had been happening for over two decades, to have it finally snuffed out with one last battle…it was hard to put the impossibility of that into words. So Kanan knew he wasn’t imagining the way Zeb was quietly shaking, or the soft sniffles that punctuated the air near his ear.

“Me too, big guy, me too,” Kanan said, voice muffled by Zeb’s shoulder. There would be more time later for them to sit down and properly honor both the Jedi and Lasan. For now, he just squeezed one of his oldest friends back tightly.

It was Zeb who pulled back with a quiet, “Kanan.” Then Zeb was putting his hands on his shoulders, turning Kanan away from him—towards something else. “The Ghost is coming down.”

With Zeb’s hand on his back guiding him, they headed for the wider part of the clearing that Zeb had helped clear out for the ships coming planetside. As they got closer, close enough that he could pick the familiar rumble of the Ghost’s engines out from the rest, Kanan picked up his pace, leaving Zeb and the others behind.

New voices and shouts of excitement and victory rose up as others finished their landing cycles, and pilots descended from their ships, running to reunite with their own friends.

Kanan stopped where he was sure he wouldn’t be in danger of getting squashed by the landing ship, and waited, heart thrumming in his chest.

He heard the Ghost land, felt the shudder under his feet as the freighter touched down, followed by the low whine of the engine’s powering down. The scent of fresh carbon scoring was faint in the air. There was a gentle whir as the ramp lowered.

From the second he sensed Hera at the top of the ramp—right where they’d stood together early yesterday—Kanan was moving. Her feet touched solid ground and he was instantly there to scoop her into his arms.

She clung to him, burying her face into the crook between his shoulder and neck. Overjoyed, her laugh echoed around him as he spun her.

They were here—they were alive.

Somewhere behind him he heard Chopper warbling and Sabine letting out a surprised yelp as Zeb pulled her into her own bone-crushing embrace.

But everyone else felt far away compared to the woman in his arms, radiating joy and laughter and utter relief.

Kanan set her down but kept her close. Close enough to kiss her soundly, cupping her face between his hands. Her cheeks were wet with tears, lips salty with them.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, touching his forehead to hers the way he had yesterday. “I’m here. We’re here, we’re safe. It’s over, Hera. It’s over.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “We did it, love.”

“We did it,” she sniffled. She laughed again, the sound watery with her tears. One of her gloved hands was tangled in his half-down hair, the other caressing his jaw.

She kissed him again, before wrapping him up in another hug. Kanan closed his eyes and just held her, his heart content.

Celebrations took place later that night, and Kanan barely left Hera’s side. He spent most of the night with his cane in one hand, and holding Hera’s hand with the other. He gave and received more hugs than he ever had in his life; they cheered and danced and sang; he smiled and laughed until his cheeks hurt and his ribs were sore. He couldn’t remember a time he’d felt this much joy at once.

At one point, a bunch of them gathered around a radio one of the pilots had carried into the Ewok village. They listened as the news carried across every available channel in the galaxy: the Emperor was dead and the Empire along with him. The galaxy was free.

After hours of music and fireworks and celebration, Hera tugged him away from it all, off to a distant, quiet platform of the village. Some of the rebels were slumbering in the village that night. They had already decided they would make their way back to the Ghost eventually to sleep in their own bed.

Hera sat down against the tree trunk that jutted through the center of the circular platform. She took his cane, and he heard her folding it up as he settled down next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned her head against him immediately, taking his free hand between her own.

Kanan took a deep breath. As much as he relished the celebrations, the quiet was a relief. He let himself drift for a moment—listening to the rustle of leaves all round them, soaking in the cool night breeze, the scent of distant fires tickling his nose.

“It still doesn’t feel real,” Hera murmured.

Kanan hummed in agreement, rubbing his thumb back and forth against her index finger.

Mirthfully, she scoffed. “I have no idea what I’m going to do tomorrow.”

They both knew there would be plenty to do—too much, even. The Empire was finished, but the work wasn’t. But he knew what she meant; it was the principle of the thing. After spending the last twenty-three years under the thumb of Imperial rule, the future was frighteningly full of possibilities.

“Sleep in for once?” he suggested. He was an early riser naturally; he liked doing his meditation in the morning. Hera’s early schedule was all thanks to her alarms and the strict schedule of a rebellion leader.

“Mm, sleeping in would be nice. Maybe breakfast in bed afterwards. When’s the last time we did that?”

“Too long ago to remember.” He nudged his foot against her own playfully. “I could be persuaded to do breakfast in bed. Depending, of course—” he stroked his fingers down the one lek curled pliantly over her shoulder, delighting as she shivered against him, “—on what’s on the menu.”

“Oh, I don’t know, dear, you tell me.” He could hear the smile in her voice as she twisted to nip at his earlobe lightly.

He chuckled, turning his head to capture her lips with his own. They kissed until the tips of his ears warmed and they were both a little breathless.

With a last peck to her temple, he leaned his head back against the tree trunk, willing his heated blood to cool and Hera tucked deeper into his side.

They sat in companionable silence for a while. Another bout of fireworks started lighting up the sky again, and Kanan had to imagine the bright colors as their booms filled the night.

The thought popped into his head unbidden, I wonder how they’re celebrating on Lothal right now. It was like being doused with cold water.

It’s not like this was the first time he’d thought of Ezra, even today. His thoughts drifted constantly to his padawan—really, former padawan; Ezra had more than done enough to prove himself worthy of the title of Jedi Knight.

But the ache of missing Ezra and the sudden longing to be on Lothal—the closest planet they could call home—dug sharply into his chest.

“Kanan?” Hera asked. He didn’t realize how tense he’d suddenly gotten until she was smoothing a hand over his chest. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. I’m okay. It’s—tonight’s been perfect.” He exhaled through his nose. “Except…”

“Ezra,” she finished for him quietly. Quickly; like she’d been thinking about the missing member of their family, too.

“Yeah. I just…I wonder if he could sense it, where he is, the Emperor dying or the Death Star. Or if he’s just too far away from us that he doesn’t know.”

Hera squeezed his hand and pressed a soothing kiss to his cheek. “He knows we’re out here. That’s all that matters.” He nodded, but couldn’t bring himself to speak. She pressed on, “We’ll find him, we will. I really believe that.”

“I know we will,” he responded, the words heavy on his tongue.

All their leads on Ezra’s whereabouts had turned into dead-ends over the last several years of the war. But he believed Hera, he believed in her hope. And he believed in the Force, trusting that he would’ve known if something truly terrible had happened to Ezra, no matter how far away he was.

Then Hera said, “We can pick up where we left off with the search right away tomorrow.”

And at the promise of having a tomorrow, Kanan could only pull her impossibly closer.

Safe among their friends and the trees of Endor’s moon, they welcomed the first dawn of a free galaxy, together.

[end]

#thinking about kanan at the battle of endor and thinking about them all finally seeing the end of the empire got me emotional #kaneraweek2024 #kanera #swr #star wars rebels #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #my writing #now the question is: will i get anything written later tonight for day 3. time will tell!

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candiedstardust · 10 months ago

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I know, I know. I drive everyone CRAZY regarding Rebels. But like??? I love it. How could a lonely, sentimental girl like myself NOT love Rebels or be totally normal about it??

Connection is one of the things that stands out to me. They were all incredibly alone before they met each other.

Hera separated herself from her remaining family on Ryloth to fight the evils of the galaxy on her own and was kinda intent on keeping it that way. Kanan might have had a handful of superficial relationships, but he always bounced from place to place, keeping his past hidden and focusing solely on his survival. Zeb thought he was the last of his kind after everything his people were put through. Sabine’s family completely turned against her after the horrific things she went through trying to protect her people, leaving her to carry so much pain. And Ezra’s baby self had been entirely on his own for half of his life at that point after his parents got ripped away from him.

They were all set on being alone because it’s what they knew, it’s what they EXPECTED, it’s what kept them safe. They were all so familiar with loss and pain and suffering, and little by little, that changed. They had an opportunity to become a little bit softer, a little more vulnerable, because they had a family again to rely on. They had the chance to care and be cared for again.

This show is just a gentle reminder to me that there’s always going to be a hard world out there, but that there’s a lot of good in it, too. Denying yourself connection makes it a lot harder to see just how much good there is, or how much good you can do with the support of good people. I know it’s not like a main theme or anything, but it’s what I get from this silly little story.

I’m going to bed now. But-

Reach out to someone you care about today~ Interact with your favorite mutuals~ Give someone you love a hug~ Snuggle with your pet(s)~ Just connect with someone and remember to see some good today 💚

#I wish I never watched this fucking show lol #it has consumed me #body and soul #at least it’s heartfelt tho #star wars rebels #sw rebels #star wars #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #ezra bridger #sabine wren #swr #zeb orrelios #chopper

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piracytheorist · 1 year ago

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Episode 32 notes!

Starting off right in the middle of action, right where we left off!

And some great animation there, too!

The thing about Anya is that her plans are so innocently silly that thanks to her young age, they actually work.

She's right there in front of Yor, acting like she doesn't recognize her, and Yor accepts that because a) it's easy and b) well Anya is a little kid, isn't she?

The fact that Anya is visibly sweating and has a very nervous expression shows that she's worried her plan won't work, and the entire family could come apart right there. She knows it's a risky plan... but because of the circumstances, it works perfectly not only to cover Yor but also to cover Anya's knowledge of Yor's secret.

I love her.

Also, a great way to take the fear of exposure away from Yor and help her focus on the fight! Worth waiting the entire week for!

I also love how excited the entire crowd was about seeing two people "play" with what seems to be lethal weapons. They'd do numbers as WWE fans.

The camera focuses on Yor as she's starting to question herself.

Yes you are! You're hesitating to get close because you fear you'll get hurt and you know that will make Anya and Loid sad! (And of course because you'll have no excuse to tell them but okay yeah)

Anyway. I just like how in comparison to the manga, we see her expression there during her inner monologue.

Yor comments about how professional the guy is with the chain, but then she has no problem using the chain's momentum to wrap it around his wrist and then his torso. Some excellent animation there showing the small details of her control of the chain!

~YOU'VE BEEN HIT BY-

YOU'VE BEEN STRUCK BY-

THE THOOOORN PRIIINCEEEEEEEESS~

She even used his immobilized body to make him bow. She's an absolute legend.

I've talked before that this isn't even a five-year-old roleplaying. She's actually getting involved with actual enemies of the state, helping their plans without them knowing, and having a blast. Her moral compass may be a little unhinged but by god is it steadfast XD

And then. The Grand RevealTM

WHITE ASS LEGS

I love him your honour. How did he even combine all that, I don't wanna know. The rainbow-tinted glasses is what ended me.

Anya Forger, professional heart-breaker.

Again. Talking with a guy who believes humans will never understand each other and who wants to wage another war, while Twilight has his own war trauma? No big deal. Anya calling him uncool? THE SHOCK AND DESPAIR OF HIS LIFE.

And off to the next chapter! Great transition in the anime - I can usually notice when they jump onto the next chapter, but this time I was surprised with how smoothly they took it from one to the next.

Turtleneck guy says he can't pick up Yor's scent? Even though he seems to have extraordinary smelling abilities?

Is that another reason why Yor is so good at sneaking up on people? She did sneak up on Twilight, after all...

"The bones" mentioned above... is that Loid talking about the skeleton keychain? There was, after all, a hidden bug in the store Loid and Anya were in...

Some things never change.

I can't wait for the moment he realizes how soundly she sleeps on his arms because she trusts him and he makes her feel safe, just like his mother did for him :)

Zeb! I finally get the name of the guy! I won't lie that calling him Furseal felt so weird, like, apologies if your name is Furseal but hey.

Anyway. His outburst felt so real. This man doesn't belong in crime.

And of course, Olka is way too desensitized to such violence, having grown up in the family, after all, and I kinda like how she goes like "Yo snap out of it". Endo really doesn't hold back from having women tell men off huh. I also love the baby talk she used with Gram. So cute.

This scene has the very same music used in the first episode where Twilight has his flashback and remembers what his reason to become a spy was. I feel kinda sad hearing it here because I'd thought that this melody would be used as [redacted]'s leitmotif, but its meaning seems to be connected with how people broken by war can find the hope in humanity needed for peace. Or something.

McMahon berates Yor for going near the door earlier even though she didn't hear their secret knock, but in reality it wouldn't matter - unless the assassin heard their voices from outside the door - because the assassin shot anyway. It would have been the same if she had protected Olka from the first moment and then tried to assess how to attack the guy. So maybe calm down, dude.

The moment Zeb was like "How are we supposed to sleep like that?" I was certain we'd see him sleeping and snoring deeply. I was not disappointed XD

Me when proper trigger discipline: 🥳💯👀🥳👌💯👀👌👌👀🎊👌🎊💯

First, good ol' focus on the ring on McMahon's finger. Second, I'm confused by the translation here in comparison to the manga. Here it says "as long as people continue to be people" while the manga says "as long as people are the way they are", and that can have a different meaning. The former sounds like conflict is in the nature of humans and that it's something we can never avoid, which doesn't seem to follow the story's ideal. It's what Donovan Desmond beliefs are based on, after all. The latter sounds like people are currently very focused on matters that cause conflict, and have a chance of reaching peace if taught differently.

I think, depending on the interpretation, it can tell a lot about McMahon's character. I will wait to see the rest of the arc to make up my mind.

And after he says that they're soldiers even in time of peace, the manga treats us to a panel of a pensive Yor, but the anime doesn't.

Stop robbing us, anime team!

Yor tells the others they should keep their shoes on - nice detail, btw - and Olka looks very familiar with such a concept, while it's Zeb who is a little surprised but accepts it. It's interesting what a character not reacting to something can tell about them!

As expected, Yor and Olka are vigilant, while Gram and Zeb sleep like babies. Let them rest XD

Some brand new music there! There's a lot of new music in general. And then THIS!

THIS IS THE FUTURE LIBERALS WANT ETC

The way Yor widens her eyes when she realizes what she just imagined! AAAAAAAAAHHHH!

And BOY we talk a lot about Loid's denial but the way Yor is still going like "No, no, no, priorities!" though. THE WAY SHE THINKS OF YURI BEING PROUD OF HER, THEN BEING AN INDEPENDENT MAN SHE MANAGED TO RAISE WITH A FEW ISSUES, AND THEN THE HAPPY FACES OF LOID AND ANYA EATING HER FOOD I WILL GO FERAL

Someone hug her omg she deserves the world 😭😭

Neither Twilight nor Yor are the only people neck-deep in denial though.

"The man decided to live for his job" yeah right. He sees one (1) pretty woman pay him some attention because of Bond and he's like "Well imma adopt a dog then". Bond's doubtful and rejecting reaction was priceless XD

This is so fucking funny to me for some reason aadshadfhsdgh. Look at him. Brought into despair by one (1) five-year-old.

I kinda love how he admits that he does fear the unknown, and has been simply trained to overcome it and try to deal with what he has in front of him.

And currently, his fear is for Anya's emotional state.

Having no idea that she's actually having the time of her life, even though she hasn't realized how deeply dangerous her situation is.

Anyway, I love that she brought Mr. Chimera with her on the trip <3

LOID HAVING HIS VERY OWN OH MAH GAH MOMENT I LAUGHED SO HARD

He is very seriously focusing on how he can make Anya happy. He thinks she asked to go for mini golf because she likes it, so he followed along, he saw her upset with how she lost, and believed she needed to experience winning in order to feel fulfilled, so he was determined to stay there until she won.

Anya takes him to the library and of course he's read everything. And even if he hadn't, he has photographic memory and can practically read through an entire tome in minutes.

But still, he's focused on her happiness, and he's satisfied that Anya is having fun reading comics. She goes for the puzzle (btw I love the idea of having a big puzzle available and leaving it to passersby to solve it. I once visited a school where they had one on a table in the halls and students would sit and try and solve it during recesses) and he analyzes it, thinks he can solve it quickly. Anya reacts in shock, and we hear a tiny hesitant "Oh" from him, because he noticed her sudden change in reaction.

Oh no. Twilight is rubbing off on her a little too much. You're five, darling. Enjoying yourself is your job!!

Just like with the bullet in butt date, Loid cannot understand why Anya looks so angry now after having spent an entire day having fun - and he cataloguing what she seems to be having fun with.

The way that he ends his internal monologue with his fear of the Forgers breaking apart and Operation Strix doesn't cross his mind once, tells a lot about how his priorities are starting to change enough to even silence his "For the Mission" talk. My mans falling hard.

Anya sees how worried Loid has gotten... and maybe she reads even deeper and realizes how genuine of a worry it is? That he's not worried for her as an asset of Operation Strix, but as a kid that deserves to have fun and be happy. And she steps up to reassure him.

And oh, how his face changes! T_T

And the way he alternates between "Loid voice" when he speaks and "Twilight voice" when he thinks. Have I congratulated Takuya Eguchi for this feat yet?

And by the way, he "justifies" Anya being so upset of missing her mama because she's still a "small child". Because of course only small children can miss their mothers, right? Twilight definitely doesn't miss his, right?

Forget neck-deep denial, this man is deep down the Mariana Trench of denial.

And the "Small Daily Life" track from the soundtrack plays, with the beautiful family leitmotif...

I love them. He can be so sweet with Anya, I can only imagine how he'll end up post-identity reveals and especially post-feelings realization.

The final few hours before Olka, Gram and Zeb get safely transferred! I think you can see the tension on their entire faces.

Also some intense, new soundtrack there! Interesting! The composers have done a lot of job this season, carefully mixing up tracks from the previous season with new ones to create the respective mood.

And that's it for this week! I foresee way more action on the next episode! :D

#Spy x Family #sxf reaction

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kometqh · 9 months ago

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𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

Captain Rex x F!Reader Pt. 1 Rex tells the story of his first love, his first heartbreak, his one last regret. Word Count: 1,166 Warnings: None (from what I can tell) A/N: This is meant to be a multiple-part story, the second chapter will be out soon!

"Rex? How come you're so good with kids?" Hera's soft voice rung out in the almost empty cockpit of the Ghost. It was an early afternoon when Kanan, Ezra, Zeb and Sabine left, leaving the two captains behind. And Chopper.

They had been sent on another stealth mission, something about retrieving data on the Empires latest star fighters. Now it was the early hours of the evening, and they still weren't back.

"Huh?" He hummed as he turned around, his swivel chair squeaking in protest at the sudden movement. "What do you mean?"

He had an inkling of an idea of what she meant, though he wasn't too happy to pursue this topic. Play stupid, yes, play stupid, Rex thought as he nervously made eye contact. Maybe she'll drop it.

"Oh come on Rex, you know exactly what I mean. You're practically a second father to our youngest ones!" She exclaimed, elbowing him in the ribcage as she leaned over, egging him on.

"Beep boop!" Chopper added, his tiny, robotic arms raising into the air.

Rex left out a soft grunt at the sudden dig, recoiling into the soft cushion of his chair. He rummaged through his thoughts, trying to form the most believable lie in the next five seconds, before the two managed to catch on.

The cogs in his brain turned, working overtime as Rex dragged on the silence, scratching at his beard in thought.

After a few moments, he let out a sigh, his shoulders drooping.

"I-I'm not sure this is appropriate, Hera." His voice was soft and yet firm, he used it often on his brothers back in the day when they wanted to disobey command, he agreed, and yet followed orders like a good soldier.

In response he received a confused 'huh' before a sudden pain erupted in his shin. That goddamn clanker!

A grunt left his lips as Rex attempted to smack the top of Chopper's metallic head, a slight burning pain erupting in his palm as the robot mechanically cackled, enjoying Rex's demise.

Though to Hera and Chopper this was a sweet, lighthearted moment, to Rex it was a sticky situation. He hadn't yet told the others of this part of his past, and he wasn't sure he wanted to dip his fingertips in deeply drowned memories.

"Oh come on, you know we won't judge." Hera continued, wiggling her eyebrows at the older man. "And plus, this is great for team bonding." She wiggled her eyebrows at him, trying her best to look as convincing as possible.

The two got on well, being somewhat close in age even with Rex looking like a grandpa. He still had the refreshing energy and spirit of a young man, but he also had the knowledge and experience of an experienced veteran. How fitting.

Rex would do anything but talk about this. The room felt a little too hot for his liking, his heart beating harshly against his rib cage.

"It's a bit hot in here, isn't it?" He asked, getting up and moving over to the temperature control panel.

Though as his gaze moved from the control panel to his fellow captain, Rex couldn't help but sigh out loud, his head hanging down. "Fine. You got me."

Before she could even proclaim her victory, Hera was quickly hushed by Rex.

"Just know this doesn't have a happy ending." He warned, crossing his arms over his chest. All of a sudden, the cool steel grey of the cabin seemed more inviting to look at than his fellow crew members.

Leaning back against the wall, Rex thought over how to tell her. These.. Memories, these events, he had hidden them away deep within his subconscious, like sacred mementos in a time pod.

Only a few people were allowed to dig them back up, if they hadn't been by his side as he lived through them.

I guess it's their time now too.

A heavy sigh and a shake of his head later, Rex was feeling ready enough. As ready as he could be.

"Long ago-"

"You sound old."

"Be quiet," Rex hissed out, his words whistling out like bullets from a gun.

He could tell Hera meant it as a joke, but this wasn't something he could bring himself to joke about.

"Long ago, when I was just a shiny, I met this.. Girl."

"Ooo."

"It was during one of my first missions," He paused, observing the scratched out pattern on the floor, "She was caught in the crossfire, and I saved her." He felt his chest twist as more words spilled from his lips. Even though so many years had passed, the memories still felt as fresh as the day they were formed.

He couldn't stop now. He wouldn't.

"As we made our escape, a plasma bolt grazed her hand, and she fainted and then we defeated the bad guys and my brother Kix had gone off to tend her wound, he was a medic clone, y'know." His shoulders shook as he scoffed, remembering how well Kix had handled the situation.

"She was so.. So weird. She insisted on walking herself home, but then proceeded to get lost on our ship. So I had to find her and escort her, like a gentleman," He paused, his gaze locked onto a scratch of the ships floor, "I think that was the first time I ever felt like a human, like a man."

"From there on, we became closer. She was moved t Coruscant and so I was able to see her during every shore leave. We wrote letters to each other, we went out together, we slept together. Waking up to her by my side was like a dream come true. Until it wasn't."

At that, Hera's posture straightened out a little. She wasn't sure where this was going, and she could feel Chopper shielding himself with her leg.

"My duty to the Galactic Republic outweighed my duty.. My loyalty to her. I left her when she needed me most." He paused again, this time his shoulders shaking, tears tiptoeing at the edge of his waterline. "She wasn't my priority. And neither was Tala."

"Rex-"

"I spent so many months, weeks, days yearning for her. She was there when I closed my eyes, reaching out to me, she was as beautiful as a morning sunshine, her eyes held so much love for me. And I abandoned her." He paused, hiding his face in one hand, seemingly pushing the tears back with his thumb and forefinger. "Tala was three when I left, and I hadn't seen them since."

Silence fell over the trio. Rex didn't want to continue, and Hera was at a complete loss for words. Even Chopper, the usually chippy chirpy robot, had nothing to beep out at this.

Simply put, nobody knew that side to Rex.

"R-Rex I- I don't know what to say.."

"It's fine. I've made my peace with it." He waved her off, the tears having evaporated from his eyes in mere seconds.

"Are they.. alive?"

He felt his breath get caught in his throat, encircling and squeezing at his wind pipe like a tight fist.

"I.. I don't know."

#captain rex x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #sw #sw tcw #captain rex #ct 7567 #commander rex #501st x reader #captain rex fanfiction #captain rex x you #angst #fluff #jedi #order 66 #star wars rebels #hera syndulla

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jessicas-pi · 4 months ago

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For the AU Ask Game

What about any members of the Ghost crew in a Jurassic Park situation?

this. uh. might not be what you had in mind? But it is situation straight out of Jurassic Park and it is the Ghost crew members and it's what I was inspired to do so I'm gonna say it kinda counts!

Hera had never regretted anything more than she regretted accepting this invitation.

She should have known better. She should never have agreed. But---but Sabine had been so happy.

Sabine hadn't been happy in a long time.

(It had seemed like she might be, when she'd had hope for finding Ezra, but... well. That hadn't gone very well. There had been an argument, and Sabine and Ezra hadn't talked in months.)

"There's this scientist," Sabine had said, when she was trying to convince her to go along with her. "He's been collecting bio-samples from parts of Mandalore since before the Empire glassed it. He's cloned animals and plants, and begun to repopulate one of Mandalore's moons with them. The whole thing is a park. There are species that were wiped out in wars almost a century ago. He's healing my home, Hera."

The problem was, cloning was not allowed by the New Republic, and they were trying to shut down the project. This scientist sought Sabine out, asking her to come see what was being done, hoping that having a war hero vouch for his project would help convince the New Republic to make an exception.

And Sabine had begged Hera to come along, too. The scientist had added that she could bring her son, that there was a petting zoo filled with cute little critters, that he would have a wonderful time.

At the time, Hera had thought it was perfect---they could bring Ezra, and Zeb, too, and Ahsoka, and it would be an opportunity to try and mend burned bridges and bring their family together again.

She was so, so wrong.

The animals---the big ones, the mean ones, the ones that the scientist hadn't mentioned---were loose. The fences were all down. The power was out. Zeb was stranded. Ahsoka was missing. And worst of all, her kids---Sabine, and Ezra, and her own precious little boy---were out there. In the dark. In a storm. Alone.

And Hera was stuck in this control building, with all the lights out, at the end of a long table, unable to do anything but eat half-melted ice cream and wish that they were all home.

(She would not be endorsing this park.)

#P.S. don't worry! as soon as the storm lightens and the people in charge look away hera grabs a blaster and goes out to rescue her kids!#meanwhile Sabine and Ezra are hiding with Jacen in a tree and having an emotional heart-to-heart about all the stuff that happened #because it wouldn't be Jurassic Park if it didn't have some kind of family drama that got resolved during a brief respite from dinosaurs #oh yeah btw instead of a t-rex its a mythosaur #idk that just seemed relevant.#anyway yeah! that's. that's the fic! I hope it was ok?#ficlet #AU ask game

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martianbugsbunny · 8 months ago

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Hour One (A Kalluzeb Fic)

*falling down the stairs* I did it! I finished my post-Zero Hour fic, it's so tasty to me <3 I'm not even gonna ramble about it I'm just gonna get right to the fic bc I love it!!! read on and enjoy!!!

When the ship was safely in hyperspace, Kanan quietly let Kallus into a room on the Ghost that was currently deserted. Judging by the half-made bunk beds against the wall, Kallus assumed it was living quarters, but he was too distracted by the growing pain in his shoulders and ribs to try and piece together whose room it was.

“I’ll give you a minute,” Kanan said. And then Kallus was alone again, with the forgiving, kind voice of the Jedi echoing in his brain. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be spoken to softly. He was lucky these people whom he’d hunted across the galaxy for years had even bothered to pick up his escape pod, rather than speeding away from the Imperial fleet and applying the rule of “serves him right.”

Something in him cracked. He began to sob, silently, terrified of what he had done in betraying the Empire, overwhelmed by a thousand different strident feelings he couldn’t even name. The heavy breaths hurt (every movement seemed to hurt, now that his adrenaline rush was wearing thin) and his head was pounding. Was the world really spinning, or was that just him?

At the first hiss of the door sliding open, Kallus dragged his sleeve hastily across his face to remove any tears or snot that might give away that he’d been crying—a bad decision, really, given his black eye, which stung at the rough contact.

It wasn’t Kanan who stepped into the room, slightly awkwardly and with bright green eyes that reflected back at Kallus those unnamable emotions.

It was Zeb.

Kallus took a step back, hands clenched at his sides. He knew his eyes were red and he could feel spots on his face where he had missed tears, and he hoped Zeb wouldn’t notice. He had no right to cry in front of this man, of all people.

Zeb stared at him for a moment, and Kallus could feel him mentally checking off all the things that were currently wrong on Kallus’s person. Hunched posture from his injured ribs; blotchy face; bloodstains on his uniform and dried blood on his lip.

“I brought you some clothes,” Zeb said. In the other hand he held a medkit, and Kallus realized with a sinking feeling that those supplies were for him. What a waste of resources that seemed. “They’re probably not your size, but they’re better than the Imperial things you’re wearing.”

Kallus took a breath before answering, surprised at how steady he was able to force his voice to be. “Thank you,” he said.

Then there was a horrible pause as Kallus realized he wouldn’t be able to remove his chest armor, much less his shirt, without help, and he could see the exact same knowledge dawning on Zeb’s face. “Karabast,” he said. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you.”

Kallus shook his head after only a brief moment of thought. He didn’t have the strength to punish himself any further. Whether or not he was worthy of Zeb’s help would have to wait until he was healed. “If you don’t mind,” he said, taking another shaky breath as he once again met Zeb’s gaze.

He didn’t look angry. He almost seemed…proud? That wasn’t right. Kallus was seeing things; his brain had been shaken up by his escape and he was imagining things that weren’t there. “I don’t,” Zeb said. He crossed the room and set the clothes down on the lower bunk. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the empty space next to them.

Kallus did as he was told, relieved to be off his feet. The leg he’d injured on Bahryn had been hurting horribly since his fight with Thrawn, particularly his knee. He might need to consider getting a brace, he realized, if he wanted to keep fighting—which he did.

Zeb unclasped the sides of Kallus’s ISB-issued armor, dumping it on the floor. “Sabine’ll get a kick out of painting that,” Zeb said. “You can wear our colors instead of Imperial ones.” “Give it to somebody else,” Kallus said. “I don’t want it.” Zeb gave him another strange look that he couldn’t parse. “Whatever you say.” He began to work at the clasps of Kallus’s uniform shirt. They definitely wasn't built for his large, clawed fingers. “So…you’re a Rebel now,” he said. “Still think you made the right decision?”

There weren’t words to describe how firmly Kallus was convinced of it. He was terrified, staring into the face of the unknown, but he knew he’d done the right thing—he just wasn’t sure how to live with the consequences. How to build a new life for himself out of the ruins of his old one…which had been built on the ruins of so many other people’s lives.

So Kallus simply nodded, trying to keep himself from spilling any more tears. The thing that made that impossible was the gentle way Zeb worked the unclasped shirt from his torso, pulling off one sleeve and then the other, grumbling angrily in that deep, rumbling voice when he saw the bruises on Kallus’s side.

“I apologize,” Kallus said immediately, his voice stiff and cracked like old, uncared-for leather. “This isn’t fair.” Zeb helped him get his arms into the new shirt he’d brought, leaving the clasps undone; the medics would only have to undo them again later to treat his injuries properly. Then he draped a quilted jacket across Kallus’s shoulders.

“You just uprooted your entire life, Kallus,” Zeb said, sighing and adjusting a non-existent crease in the jacket. “I would think it was weird if you didn’t cry.”

“Not in front of you. You shouldn’t comfort me.” Kallus moved backwards, further into the bunk, away from Zeb’s touch. He didn’t deserve empathy and he didn’t want pity. “This shouldn’t be your problem.”

Zeb got up from the floor where he’d been kneeling and sat on the edge of the bunk, staring at the opposite wall instead of at Kallus. “Maybe not,” he agreed. “Maybe I should say it’s none of my business. Maybe I should leave you to deal with it alone. But when you worked with me on that ice moon, and saved my friends from the Empire, and fed us all that intel as Fulcrum, I think you kind of made yourself my business.” He turned back towards Kallus, his face serious, his eyes soft. “Now let me check your other injuries.”

Kallus complied, shifting closer to Zeb. Even if it didn’t sit right with him, he didn’t think he could refuse Zeb anything. He would do whatever he was asked, whatever he was told—even allow Zeb to take on some of his burden—if it would make a fraction of a difference. If it would help him so much as an inch towards making amends.

With his broad hands carefully gentle, Zeb put a few stitches in Kallus’s broken lower lip. Kallus wondered where Zeb had learned those skills; if it was gained during his time in the Honor Guard of Lasan or in the Rebellion. For a moment, he was lost in wondering, searching Zeb’s face while he was intent on his task as though he could find an answer there. He only realized Zeb had paused and asked him a question when Zeb tilted his head to the side, staring at Kallus for an answer of his own.

“Could you repeat that?”

Zeb rolled his eyes. “I said, can you see alright? That black eye doesn’t look too good.”

His eyes were dry now, but there was still a blur in the left side of his vision. “Actually, I can’t,” he said, swallowing hard. “Everything to the left is hazy.”

“It'll probably need a while to heal,” Zeb said. “If it doesn’t, we’ll get you fitted with some visual aids.” He dabbed something cold and clear on the bruised skin. “There’s nothing more I can do until we land, but you should be fine.”

The pain in his side begged to argue, and he was pretty sure that something in there was broken, but Kallus nodded. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “For everything."

How could he put that everything into words? Thank you for not killing me on Bahryn, thank you for telling me to look for the answers, thank you for believing me when I was Fulcrum, thank you for picking me up just now, thank you for tending my wounds.

He didn’t need to. The way Zeb was looking at him, he already knew.

“We have enough people on board to handle things,” Zeb said, his voice equally low. “I can stick around here for a while if you want the company.”

Kallus felt a smile tugging at the stitches on his lip. More everything to be grateful for. “Alright.”

They sat there together on the bunk for a while in silence. It was a comfortable silence, somehow, and Kallus finally began to relax, not breathing easily past the injuries to his ribs but certainly breathing more easily than before.

“You were limping,” Zeb said, breaking the quiet. “When you came on board you were limping.”

“Once you’re wounded, that body part becomes a target. It’s not so bad, now that my weight’s been off it.” Zeb leaned back against the wall. “That’s good.” He extended one arm to Kallus. “Come on, Kal. We’ve got time before we land anywhere, you can rest.”

There was a moment of hesitation, of doubt, and then Kallus allowed himself to settle next to Zeb, with a strong purple arm around his shoulders. As he started drifting off, safe for the first time in months and knowing his injuries would be cared for, Kallus thought he felt Zeb’s fingers gently rubbing across his arm, and there was a little pit of warmth in his chest that kept the cold of pain and guilt out.

#come get ur juice kalluzebbies #alexsandr kallus #garazeb orrelios #kalluzeb #star wars #Star Wars rebels #rebels #post zero hour #post zero hour fic #hurt/comfort #fic #I've been talking about this thing for at least a month now I think #it's finally done so nobody needs to set my house on fire lol #martianbugsbunny writes fic

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kanerallels · 8 months ago

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Okay I need every shred of serotonin I can get right now, so! Have a fic I wrote for @sarah3210 in honor on May the Fourth! Hope you guys enjoy it!

(Taglist for fun and profit: @day-to-day-thots @laughingphoenixleader @aosladies @heckin-music-dork @opalknight @cassie-fanfics)

It had been a long time since Ezra Bridger had flown a shuttle. But somehow, that’s not why his hands were shaking as he approached the hangar bay of the ship in front of him.

He shouldn’t have been nervous. But for the first time in almost ten years, he wasn’t on Peridea. He was home.

Or close enough, at least. The ship wasn’t Lothal. But when Ezra thought of home, Lothal wasn’t always the first thing that came to mind. It wasn’t a place at all. It was people.

They’re here. He was sure of it. Sabine had told him where to find Hera— or rather, Hera’s flagship, since she was a general now. He couldn’t really say he was surprised. Just proud, if you could be proud of the woman who’d basically been your mother for so many years of your life.

The two A-wings escorting him peeled off as he slipped through the energy shield and set the shuttle down. Not too rough of a landing— Hera or Sabine could have done better, but Ezra was a little rusty.

Through the viewport, he could see a handful of figures moving towards the shuttle. Okay. Here we go.

He realized, as the shuttle ramp was lowering, that he hadn’t taken off the armor he’d stolen on Thrawn’s ship. Huh. Well, this should be fun. Holding back a sudden burst of laughter, Ezra headed down the ramp slowly, his hands in the air.

There was a cluster of people coming to meet him— most of them wearing white and blue or black uniforms, all looking exceptionally wary. And in their lead was a green skinned Twi’lek woman wearing a flight jacket and carrying a small blaster that she leveled directly at Ezra.

It’s Hera. She looked a little different. Older and tired, but still determined, with the same calm that she wore when she was trying to mediate a fight between him and Zeb. Holy kark, it’s Hera, and is that— in a flash, he realized that Kallus and Zeb were a few steps behind her, bo-rifles at the ready as they eyed the potential threat warily.

The reality of it hit him like a brick in the chest because it meant he was back. It worked. Ten years and he was face to face with his family again, finally.

He was still reeling when he recognized the figure rolling towards him. Chopper looked exactly the same as the last time Ezra had seen him, when the droid had helped him save Lothal. He was bwomping something about who did Ezra think he was fooling as he approached, and Ezra almost automatically let a hand drop to the top of Chopper’s dome. “Hey, Chop,” he whispered, far too low for anyone else to hear it. The droid let out a satisfied noise— clearly, he’d realized who Ezra was immediately.

Hera still looked unsure, though. Which was fair. Ezra was, after all, still wearing trooper armor. Reaching up, he slowly pulled off his helmet.

The expression on Hera’s face changed in a snap, shock and confusion bright in her eyes. Ezra knew the feeling. He still couldn’t believe what he was looking at, either.

“Ezra?” she said, her voice shaking, holding a thread of hope that Ezra understood deeply.

“Hi, Hera,” he said, and found himself grinning like an idiot because it had been so long but he was back. Things were a mess but he was with his family again. He could fix it. “I’m home.”

He started towards her, but Hera was already moving. Her blaster clattering to the ground, she darted towards him and threw her arms around him in a fierce embrace that knocked the wind out of Ezra. “Ow,” he grunted, but hugged her back, feeling tears prickle his eyes.

“Hi?” she said, her voice shaking. “You’ve been gone for ten years and that’s how you start?”

“Uh—”

Another set of arms enveloped them, effectively crushing the last of the air out of Ezra’s lungs. “When I’m done hugging you,” Zeb growled, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Missed you too,” Ezra gasped, wheezing for breath. “Kallus, you next? Is it gonna be a hug or a death threat?”

The man laughed, sounding more at ease than Ezra ever remembered him sounding. “Oh, I think Zeb and General Syndulla have the death threats more than covered.”

“That’s good,” Ezra said as both Zeb and Hera let go. Hera only stepped back a little, though, studying his face.

“You’ve grown up so much,” she whispered, gently touching his cheek. “And you’re— we thought you were—”

“You really thought Thrawn and a couple purrgil could take me out?” Ezra said, raising his eyebrows and grinning. “I’m pretty offended.

Zeb grinned even wider. “Oh, not everyone did.”

“Thanks, Zeb.”

Zeb’s grin, somehow, widened. And got a lot more smug. “Oh, I wasn’t talking about me.”

“Ouch. Wait, then who—”

A door hissed open, and a voice cut him off. A familiar voice. “Hera! You’re not going to believe this, but I sensed—”

Ezra’s heart stopped around the same time the voice did. Staring over Hera’s shoulder at him was… a ghost?

Because Kanan Jarrus had died on Lothal, saving him and Sabine and Hera.

He couldn’t be here, his hair and beard grown back with streaks of gray. And he DEFINITELY couldn’t have two kids with him— one who looked like a small version of Hera but with freckles, and patches of orange in her skin. She eyed him warily as she clung to Kanan’s hand. The other was a human boy with green hair, and was gaping at Ezra with delight. “I told you,” he whispered.

“—Ezra,” the man finished, meeting Ezra’s gaze with clear, seeing eyes. The scar was still there, but… His eyesight came back. Right before he… he died. Didn’t he?

He could barely speak as Hera silently stepped out of the way, a smile on her face. Clearing his throat, Ezra managed a breath. “K-Kanan?”

A smile spread across his face. “Hey, kid. I bet you have some—”

Ezra cut him off by sprinting across the space between them and tackling him in a hug that nearly sent them both flying backwards. He was definitely going to cry, but all he could do right now was cling to his master and pray that he didn’t somehow disappear. “You’re here,” he choked out, holding back a sob.

Strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close. For a moment, he felt just like a padawan again. “I’m here,” Kanan murmured. “And so are you. Force, Ezra, we missed you so much.”

Ezra let out a shaky laugh. “Uh, you missed me? I thought you were dead.”

“I almost was.”

“Thank you for not being dead.”

He felt Kanan laugh. “Any time, kid. Thank you for coming home safely.” He paused, and Ezra could sense his confusion through their bond. Their bond, which had come flowing back so naturally that it felt like it had never left.

“Shouldn’t Sabine be with you?”

Whoops. “Uh, yeah, about that,” Ezra said sheepishly. “Um… she and Ahsoka are kinda left behind? And Thrawn is also here? And he has a team of witches and a creepy friend named Enoch?”

“Maul isn’t resurrected from the dead, too, is he?” Kanan said wryly, and Ezra laughed.

“Nope. He’s still dead.”

“Okay, then. We’ll handle it.”

We. Somehow, Ezra thought, the prospect of facing this with his family at his side made the whole situation a lot easier. It always did.

#ezra bridger #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #jacen syndulla #depa syndulla #star wars rebels #swr #ahsoka show #ahsoka series #ahsoka series spoilers #writing stories is a kind of magic too #this was a lot of fun to write!! and it got me out of my burnout/writing slump which was nice

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