I joined the Rebellion and all I got was this sick leather jacket (aka I finished Andor last night so here's Kanan Jarrus in some classic rebel fashion).
Sorry i saw one of your posts in a community but i couldnt comment because i wasnt a member. I just have to tell you that (per the “first viktor drawing”) you have an ability to follow shading and shape and distance in a reference that is incredible. I implore you to get into realism in some way simply as a show of your skill. Also once you go back to the cartoony style you have, you will notice improvement in your ability to express movement and emotion if you study the right things. Ignore grids, look at ballerinas, eat a gyro, pat yourself on the back.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
*slides onto Tumblr wearing sparkly sunglasses* HELLO THERE
Steve Miller Au is back! And...maybe not better than ever, but at least as fabulous. Hope you guys enjoy this take on the S3 premiere: I'm planning to keep a consistent posting schedule for a while, and hopefully you enjoy it!! First lines under the cut as always!
@seleneisrising @cassie-fanfics @ana-cantskywalker @lothalnyx (DM me or send an ask if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!)
“When did Kanan teach you how to do that?”
Sabine’s shocked voice cut into Ezra’s thoughts, slicing through the mask of anger and fear he’d been channeling to control the AT-ST pilot. Lowering his hand, he said, “He didn’t.”
The two words, simple as they were, sent a swirl of anger and bitterness and pain through his chest. Kanan hadn’t been teaching him much of anything lately. He hadn’t been for six months now.
After Malachor…a lot had changed. Hera had taken on more responsibility in the Rebellion, and Ezra, Zeb, and Sabine had started running missions together. And Kasmir and Okadiah had been responsible for Kanan’s network.
Because Kanan…Kanan was the biggest change. He’d stepped away from everything. From all of them.
Because he blames me. Because I’m the reason he can’t see any more. I trusted the wrong person and it’s my fault—
Shoving aside the burning feelings in his chest, Ezra took a deep breath, refocusing on the situation. Just in time—the door behind them blew open with a burst of sparks and shards of metal.
hey, a friend wanted me to tell you that he absolutely LOVES your cal and trilla art!! he loves trilla and loves your stuff about her and cal (i mean who wouldn't!)
I can't even put into words how much I love this show
Rebels is one of the best stories in the entire franchise
I know that the art style is different than the Clone Wars and that the lightsabers look like toothpicks but please get over yourselves you are missing out on the best family dynamic in all of Star Wars.
i've seen soooo many people be like "oh i haven't watched it, i don't think star wars is good animated" or something like that whenever i ask them but they haven't even TRIED it and yes it's all pretty much dislike based on the art style
MY OWN MOTHER is one of those people and i mean she isn't the biggest star wars fan but yes i will be eternally trying to get her to watch it but hey at least my dad and older sister and uncle (MOTHER'S BROTHER) watched and loved it so there's that
rating: gen | word count: 3.3k | (ao3 link coming soon)
[note: apologies for the belated posting, this got much longer than anticipated. again lol. but this was SO much fun to write! it is absolutely silly and ridiculous but i made myself laugh writing ghost crew shenanigans and that's really all that matters!]
~
Zeb thought it was cute, really, Kanan and Hera trying to hide their relationship from him, when he could smell their intermingled scents almost from the second he stepped aboard the Ghost.
And it wasn’t the smell of two people, separate, but sharing the same ship for an extended period of time. No, their scents were so intertwined that it was sometimes hard to tell who walked in a room if he wasn’t looking. It was worse with Kanan; Hera’s scent clung to Kanan’s hair like mynocks to the underbelly of a ship.
He willingly admitted to it being almost immediately that he noticed. But he would also argue that the only reason he didn’t notice even sooner was because of the chaos and adrenaline of Kanan rescuing him; and then recruiting him; followed by days of claustrophobic fear even considering staying in one place long enough to call it safe—much less a home—no matter how short the actual stay, because his last home was gone, and he hadn’t been able to protect it, and— Well. It had been a lot, okay?
So it had taken three or four days into joining their little crew for him to notice that they were, in fact, together.
He was helped along by the stench of sex in the air the morning he figured it out (which they’d both pretended way too hard that it hadn’t happened right under his nose. Or within range of his Lasat hearing.) But that was beside the point.
The point was—that he knew. And he was grappling with himself, trying to decide if he should put them out of their misery of sneaking around and just tell them that he knew. Or if he should wait and see how long they would try to keep up the charade until he caught them red-handed doing something they couldn’t deny.
He didn’t really think they were trying to keep it a secret, per se. More that they (mostly Hera) were trying to maintain a professional facade. Which Zeb respected.
He just wasn’t sure how long respect would win out against the desire to stop hearing them through the Ghost’s walls anymore. He wasn’t exactly known for being the most patient being in the galaxy. And the least they could do was make up some lie to get him off the ship once in a while if they wanted to be alone.
As it turned out, four months was his limit.
Admittedly, he’d thought about caving a month in. Then two. Once it hit the three-month mark, it started to get funnier, watching the two of them scramble to keep their relationship as covert as they could. Then the amusement wore off and Zeb was just ready for them to stop pretending around him.
The opportunity to talk to them came one early morning when he trudged into the mess. He’d been moving slow, still waking up. But not so slow he didn’t see the way Kanan and Hera yanked away from the light kiss they’d been sharing.
Hera did a better job at appearing casual, leaning against the counter and grabbing her mug of caf to sip at. Kanan, blushing furiously, was hopelessly trying to make himself look busy.
Pouring himself a cup of caf, Zeb sat down heavily in the little dining booth opposite them. Groggily, he mumbled, “You know I know you two’re together, right?”
They both blinked at him. To his sleep-hazy brain, it was only slightly creepy how attuned to each other they were.
Then, with a dramatic exhale, Kanan said, “Oh, thank the Force.”
Hera poked Kanan in the side, muttering, “I told you he knew.”
“Well, he didn’t say anything, how was I to know.” Then Kanan turned to him. “How long have you known, anyway?”
Zeb took another gulp of caf. “Pretty much since I stepped on board. Could smell it on ya both.”
Kanan frowned. “Smell it?”
Hera just gave Zeb an understanding look, then pinched Kanan’s cheek playfully. “Poor human senses.” Then, to Zeb, she added, “Here I was thinking that Chopper spilled the beans to you.”
Now it was Zeb’s turn to blink. “You think I know what that rust bucket’s sayin’?” He swallowed down the rest of his caf, getting up with a stretch. “Just…try ‘nd let me know in advance if y’two wanna have sex. The Ghost’s walls’re thick, but they ain’t that thick.”
They both flushed at that—Kanan a rosy pink and Hera a darker shade of green.
Kanan rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. We tried to keep quiet.”
“It’s alright,” Zeb replied. “For the record, you were quiet. But, y’know.” He pointed a clawed finger at his ears.
“Right.”
Zeb dismissed himself to finish getting ready for the day. On his way out, he caught Kanan looping an arm around Hera’s waist, pulling her close again. Their quiet laughter followed him into the hall.
He fondly shook his head. Yeah, they were cute or something.
::
When Sabine joined the crew a year later, Zeb was so used to Hera and Kanan by then that he didn’t even think about Sabine finding out, much less telling her.
Not that there was a lot of opportunity to have that kind of conversation with her anyway, when she first came on board, because—well. Sabine wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Especially not in those first few months. She communicated with them all when it was necessary for missions and the occasional small talk. Otherwise, she was more of a listener and a quiet observer. And that was when she was hanging around them at all; most of the time she was hidden away in her bunk.
But she was good in a firefight and a hard worker. And now that she had a safe bed to return to, she didn’t seem intent on leaving anytime soon. So, if she didn’t feel like talking much? That was just fine.
Zeb knew the girl had been through a lot. And something bad. He and Hera and Kanan could tell that just by looking at her. Not to mention the way Kanan and Hera had found her—alone and bleeding from a grievous injury in some back alley in the pouring rain.
And positively filled to the brim with anger and hurt.
They still didn’t really know any details about what had happened to her. Zeb could relate; he hadn’t wanted to talk about Lasan at all afterwards. But he knew time and patience helped. She would—hopefully—open up eventually.
Kanan had definitely managed to reach her the most. It had been Kanan who’d gotten through to her in that alley, convincing her that they were trustworthy enough to help her. And Kanan was persistent—trying to get her to crack a smile, complimenting her when she executed a particularly brilliant set of explosives, buying her a set of paints when he caught her doodling with a half dry marker one day.
She started warming up to Zeb, too. Being paired off on missions helped, and she enjoyed poking fun at him. He let her, and he didn’t mind. Seeing color return to her cheeks and a spark enter back into her eyes was worth it for a little laughter at his expense.
Only Hera was having a tough time getting through to her, and Zeb was pretty sure it had less to do with Hera herself, and rather some underlying issues on Sabine’s part.
So. All this to say—Zeb hadn’t gotten a lot of opportunities for casual conversation with her. Wondering if she knew about Kanan and Hera didn’t even cross his mind until it was right there in front of him.
He and Sabine were playing sabacc in the common area one afternoon, about six months after Sabine had joined the crew.
Hera and Kanan passed through, chattering quietly. Stopping at the ladder Kanan pressed a quick kiss to Hera’s lips.
With a soft smile, she uttered a low, be careful, and then they were separating—her down to the engine room, and Kanan up to the Phantom to head out on a quick supply run with Chopper.
Zeb observed the whole interaction out of the corner of his eye. Sabine barely looked up from her cards.
“So, um.” Zeb cleared his throat. He was pretty sure that if Kanan and Hera didn’t want Sabine to know about them, they wouldn’t have kissed so blatantly in public. But then again, they hadn’t ever mentioned to him that they’d told her. And he hadn’t said anything.
Sabine’s lack of reaction was throwing him more than anything.
Not that it was some huge forbidden secret. He didn’t think. But the way Hera and Kanan had snuck around when he first joined up with them flashed through his mind, and he was suddenly questioning—well. Everything.
“Did you, uh,” he tried again. “Kanan and Hera, I mean.”
Sabine picked a card up from the pile in the center. “That wasn’t a full sentence.”
“Well, what I meant was—”
“If you’re trying to ask me if I saw what just happened with Kanan and Hera, well the answer would be no because my back was turned. But I know what it sounds like when two people kiss. So, yes.”
Zeb blinked. “You don’t seem surprised by it.”
“Should I be?”
“S’pose not. I wasn’t.” He examined his cards. “How’d you find out anyway?”
She shrugged. “Kanan told me.”
“Now that’s just not fair,” Zeb grumbled. “They didn’t tell me a thing! I finally had to tell ‘em that I knew the whole time.”
She gave a short, little laugh. “I mean, I’d figured it out before he told me, because he is not subtle at all. He’s always staring at Hera with a dopey look on his face.” She rolled her eyes, but it was more affectionate than anything. “Remember when he brought me those paints?”
Zeb nodded. That had been about three months ago now, after Kanan had noticed her doodling. She hadn’t said much beyond an awed thank you; but Zeb had remembered the way she practically glowed with gratitude when Kanan had given her the paints and told her that Hera said it was okay for her to paint whatever she liked in her bunk.
Sabine smiled at the memory now. “We hung out and talked for a while that day. Well—he talked. I listened, mostly, while I started painting. I don’t think he meant to, but he let it slip about him and Hera, and once he started talking about her, he just kept rambling for a bit.” She shook her head like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but he could see it had meant a lot to her. “So, yeah. I knew.”
“Good.” Zeb blew out a breath. “That’s—good.”
Her nose scrunched up and she looked up at him. “They’re just so—”
“Disgustingly affectionate?”
She laughed louder this time, and it felt like a victory. “Exactly. It’s…cute, I guess.”
They were certainly that.
Zeb was just happy to be poking fun at them with Sabine, and even more glad they could all joke with each other. It was starting to feel an awful lot like family.
::
It was after Ezra joined the crew that things started to get really fun.
Ezra had been with them for maybe two weeks when they were all relaxing in the common area together between jobs. Hera and Kanan were seated, fairly close, in the booth around the dejarik table, not acting particularly outside the norm. Kanan had an arm thrown around the back of the booth, and occasionally his fingers would brush across Hera’s shoulder, or down the side of one lek. She usually tossed him a Careful, there, look when that happened, and Kanan’s mouth would quirk up in a trouble-making smirk, eyes alight.
Zeb nearly rolled his own eyes. They were so disgustingly affectionate sometimes, it made it hard to be around them and not be at least mildly annoyed. Or envious of what they had. Yeah, mostly that one, probably.
Ezra sat on the opposite end of the booth from Kanan and Hera. He was half playing dejarik with Kanan, half chatting with Hera about who she’d bet on in the podrace taking place on Malistare next month (if she was the sort of person who would actually put money to betting on races, that is), and completely oblivious to the couple flirting through touch alone across from him.
Zeb leaned back in his wooden armchair, watching the scene unfold with amusement.
He might have suspected the Ezra knew about Kanan and Hera. If it hadn’t been for Ezra’s exasperated, “Kanan. Pay attention! It’s your turn.”
“Sorry, kid.”
Zeb caught Hera nudging Kanan’s knee under the table with her own as he turned back to the game. Ezra stared at him intently, waiting for Kanan’s next move.
Yeah—the newest addition to their crew had no clue that his Jedi Master’s thoughts were more focused on the woman beside him than the holochess game in front of him.
Zeb leaned down towards Sabine, who was on the floor, repainting her shin armor. “Psst.”
Sabine’s eyes flicked up, but she didn’t stray from her hunched over position. She gave him a look like, What?
Zeb crooked a finger at her to come closer.
With a roll of her eyes, Sabine unfolded herself and stood next to his chair. He leaned close, keeping his voice low for only her to hear, “Hey, how long until ya think the kid figures it out?”
He tipped his head in the direction of Kanan and Hera. Sabine followed his gaze, assessing the scene surrounding the dejarik table. After a moment, she smiled conspiratorially.
“Oh, if he hasn’t figured it out yet, I give it at least three months,” she whispered.
“I was gonna say four.”
“You want to put a few credits to it?”
Zeb grinned sharply. “You know it.”
Instead of the much-to-obvious handshake in present company, Sabine bumped her fist against his. It was a deal.
::
It took six months (six!)for Ezra to figure it out.
Zeb won the bet by default, since he’d guessed the longer timeline. But he wasn’t sure that was really fair, since Ezra didn’t even figure it out on his own.
Ezra came barreling into the mess one morning while Zeb was still drinking his wake-up caf, out of breath, and asked, “Have you seen Kanan?”
His ears perked up a bit at that. “No. Why?”
“He’s late for Jedi training,” Ezra said in a tone of voice like it should’ve been obvious to Zeb. And normally it might’ve been. But he was still waking up—hence the wake-up caf. “I checked his bunk and he wasn’t there. Then I looked in the cockpit and the engine room and then all the store rooms and nothing! He didn’t go into town on his own, right?”
“No, nothin’ like that,” Zeb said. Hera and Kanan would’ve told them all if that was the case. “Come on, I’ll help you look.”
They found Kanan quick.
He was trailing behind Ezra as they turned the corridor towards all the bunks when Hera’s cabin door slid open and Kanan nearly stumbled into the hall. His undershirt was untucked, only one arm shoved through one sleeve of a dark blue sweater. His hair was down and mussed; from just last night, or also this morning, it was hard to tell.
What was blatantly obvious is that Kanan had not spent the night in his own bunk.
Eyes wide, Kanan caught sight of Ezra first, then Zeb, his expression one Zeb could only describe as a plea for help. Zeb nearly broke then and there.
Especially when the next comment out of Ezra’s mouth was, “Hey—wait, why are you coming out of Hera’s cabin?
“Well, I—”
“Never mind, it doesn’t matter. You’re late for Jedi training, come on!”
Then Ezra was off, shoving past Zeb and dashing back the way they’d come. Kanan looked at Zeb helplessly, blushing as he tucked his shirt in and finished pulling on his sweater.
Zeb chuckled, clapping Kanan on the shoulder as he trailed after his padawan. “Good luck, mate.”
::
Everything came to a head later, while they were en route to Garel for supplies. Zeb was in the cockpit with Sabine and Hera—who was piloting, of course. Kanan was finishing up their list of necessities in one of the storerooms with Chopper and Ezra was tucked back in the Phantom.
At one point, Kanan’s voice had called Ezra over the ship-wide comms, asking Ezra for a rundown of what needed to be restocked on the Phantom.
They were still on the ship-wide comms when Ezra asked, “So, what were you doing in Hera’s cabin this morning?”
Sabine jerked around in the copilot’s seat to look at him, her eyes comically wide. He knew he wore a similar expression.
Simultaneously, they both shifted their gaze to Hera. She continued to fly steadily, but from this angle, Zeb could see the slight way her lekku stiffened in embarrassment, a slight flush coloring high in her cheeks. Catching Sabine’s gaze, Hera just shrugged one shoulder. “What. It’s nothing you two aren’t already aware of.”
“Umm…” came Kanan’s voice over the comms.
Zeb could so easily picture him rubbing the back of his neck, trying to decide how to tell Ezra in a way that was more appropriate than, Yeah I was late to training this morning because Hera and I were having passionate sex deep into the hours of the night.
Zeb leaned forward in his seat. “Should we tell ‘em they’re on the whole ship’s comms?”
Sabine gave him a look.
But it was Hera who raised an eyebrow and scoffed, “Are you kidding?” A sly grin. “I want to see who caves first.”
So, they waited, listening.
Finally, from Kanan, “We’re partners.”
“Well, duh, you’re partners. What does that have to do with you being in her room?”
“No, I mean we were together.”
“Together?” A lengthy pause. Briefly Zeb wondered how Kanan was managing to keep Chopper from chiming in through all this. “Like…did you have a private briefing with Fulcrum this morning or something?”
“No, kid. I—” Kanan cut off, and Zeb knew he was grinding a fist against his forehead in frustration. “I mean, we are together. Like, together. Intimately, as a couple, you know.”
There was a full minute of silence. He was slightly worried either Kanan or Ezra had finally shut off the ship-wide comms, and they wouldn’t get to hear how Kanan’s misery ended.
Then, “WAIT. You’re together together? Since when?”
“The whole time you’ve known us, but thanks for noticing, kid.”
“Hold on—do Sabine and Zeb know?”
With that, Zeb couldn’t hold it in any longer. He guffawed—loudly. Sabine was bent over in her chair with laughter. Smiling broadly, Hera flipped the switch on the cockpit’s comm, so their laughter echoed through the ship for Kanan and Ezra to hear.
There were groans from Kanan’s end, exasperated yelling from Ezra, warbles from Chopper as he finally chipped in.
Moments later, Ezra was bursting into the cockpit, pointing between Zeb and Sabine. “I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me!”
Sabine exchanged a look with Zeb, and he replied, “Well, we were kinda waitin’ for you to figure it out on your own.”
Ezra continued to grumble as Chopper wheeled in, a blushing Kanan trailing behind to take the seat behind Hera. He squeezed her shoulder, and she reached back for his hand.
“Well done, love,” she teased.
“Love,” Ezra muttered, folding his arms as he leaned against Zeb’s chair. “Unbelievable.”
That sent them all into fresh peals of laughter.
Looking at Kanan and Hera’s linked hands, Zeb had never been more grateful to them for bringing their little family together.
[end]
(p.s. everyone pray for ezra's poor 15 year old braincells 🙏 he's not dumb, just a little unobservant sometimes. happens to the best of us <3)
i think the key difference between george lucas’s star wars and disney’s star wars is that lucas is a man with an ideology. someone with a point of view, and all that entails. which comes with ideas of revolution, anti-imperialism, challenging the status quo, cultural appropriation and racist stereotypes. complex and contradictory ideas because that’s how artists are: complex and complicated people. disney is not. disney is a corporation. a corporation can’t have ideology, because ideology defeats the purpose of profit. and when the only thing you do is to turn on the movie manufacturing machine before you sit down and plan what ideas are you trying to convey to the audience, then your results are going to be washed out corporate garbage. and because when you’re a giant corporation who only cares about selling to the widest audience possible, you can’t take sides. you can’t decide on an idea. because you want to sell your product to people who are on the entire political spectrum. which results in movies without ideology, without purpose, without soul.
I have been looking for this post for years after I came across it and it’s finally here and I need to reblog this because it is absolutely and entirely accurate.
kaledo-art
romaincrisis
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