#kanera week 2023

[strige-art]

Dai 1: Pre-Relationship | Sneaking Around | We Need To Talk

Okay, I stretched the pre relationship prompt a bit because I had this scene in mind for a while.

One of the many missions after Kanan joined Hera, after the events of A New Dawn.

Of course, during the TV series we saw him do this stunt without any problem, holding the blaster with two hands and jumping like a cricket without losing control.

But here he was definitely out of practice, not connected with the force and probably in hang over so, well…he had to hold on somewhere!

Hera probably explained to him the importance of respecting personal space later. XD

Fortunately, she is the best pilot in the galaxy and certainly doesn't go crashing over something like this!

[kanerallels]

For day two of @kaneraweek, behold my latest fic! Canon compliant, set after A New Dawn and before SWR

Read on AO3

It used to be, Hera didn’t have to fix nearly as many appliances on the Ghost. Sure, the caf maker had broken down once or twice, and obviously the ship itself needed upkeep all the time.

But before Kanan had joined her crew, she’d kept the kitchen appliances to just the caf maker, the stove it had come with, and a cooling supply unit. Basic and easy, nothing too fancy.

When Kanan had arrived, he’d almost immediately started pestering her about buying all manner of “completely essential” appliances. First the therma-slice for toasting bread, then a blender. By the time he started on his waffle maker vendetta, Hera had instituted the “buy it with your own money and you’d better have a really compelling argument when you bring it home” rule.

This had slowed Kanan a little, and had seen him heading back to the store to return a few items. But he remained stubborn on others of the appliances— and Hera had to admit, his arguments could be very compelling. Mainly the ones that resulted in some of his more delicious dishes. 

Luckily for him, the meals were making the repairs worth it. At the moment, Hera was working on repairing the sonic dishwasher— although she was pretty sure it was a lost cause. Kanan had found it second hand a few months ago, and it had seen better days, to say the least. The filtration system was barely clinging to life, and as a result the dishes were receiving more of a gentle dousing than a proper scrub.

We’re probably going to have to go back to handwashing dishes, she thought, sliding out from under the counter where it was installed. Setting the spanner she was holding back into the tool box, she rose to examine the parts scattered across the countertop.

“Here’s hoping some of this is salvageable,” she muttered— to whom, she wasn’t sure. She’d sent the other two crewmembers on a supply run. Kanan had been planning to pick something up for dinner, and Chopper had been sent with him to monitor exactly how much he spent. The man had a bad habit of spending far too much on seasoning.

As she started picking over the parts, a new song hummed out of the tiny speaker she had set up a little ways away, playing one of the music chips she and Kanan had found at the black market on Lothal. To her surprise, Hera recognized the song.

It was a song she’d heard a hundred times growing up, one her mother had loved. A swell of emotion pushed through Hera’s chest as she remembered Eleni Syndulla dancing and singing along to the song.

Swaying a little in time to the music, she closed her eyes, trying to remember the way she’d moved. It had been years since Hera had actually danced, and she’d never been the best dancer. But hearing this song, remembering her childhood, she found herself wanting to.

The sounds of the violin hummed through the air, and Hera hummed with it as she moved, her steps graceful as she followed the patterns her mother had traced on their kitchen floor when she was so much younger.

Growing more confident, she lost herself in the music, finding her rhythm much more quickly than she would have expected. Spinning, her steps were quick and light as she twirled again— and then came face to Kanan, who was standing in the doorway.

Hera froze, shock cutting through her. Judging by Kanan’s expression, he was just as surprised. “Sorry,” he said quickly. “I just came to tell you that we’re back— I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t,” Hera said, her voice a little harsher than she’d meant it to be. She felt a flash burning across her face and turned, intending to move towards the radio and turn it off, but Kanan’s voice stopped her.

“I didn’t know you could dance.”

“I can’t.” Hera paused, realizing how silly her words sounded. “Well. I don’t. Usually.”

“Ah.” Kanan’s voice was quiet, thoughtful. Perhaps he was thinking, as Hera was, of the weight behind those words. Behind the culture she’d come from, where dancing wasn’t just dancing, but the job, far too often, as a slave.

He was the first one to break the silence. “I’ve never seen anyone dance like that. Would you… could you show me how?”

Hera, who’d been in the middle of turning off the speaker, stopped with her hand on the knob. Glancing over her shoulder, she frowned at Kanan. “What?”

“I’m wondering if you’ll teach me,” he said, a flash of self consciousness crossing his face.  His tone stayed easy and matter of fact as he said, “If you don’t mind.”

Hera stared at him for a minute. “If this is some half-hearted attempt to flirt with me—”

“It’s not!” Kanan protested. “Listen, I like dancing. And I like learning new things. This is the perfect combo.” Pausing, he frowned at her. “And I’ll have you know my flirting is never half-hearted.”

Hera snorted with amusement despite herself. “How could I make that mistake?” She paused, thinking over the moves she knew. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. This dishwasher isn’t going anywhere anyways.”

“Does that mean the repairs aren’t going well?” Kanan asked as Hera turned up the song, filling the room with the vibrant sounds of the violin.

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t pin all your hopes on that thing,” Hera said wryly, turning to face him. “Okay. Let’s give this a shot— I haven’t done this since I was a little girl, and my mother taught me by being my partner. So here goes nothing.”

“I have utter faith in you, Captain Hera,” Kanan assured her, taking the hand she offered him. His fingers laced between hers, and Hera felt a fleeting shiver go down her spine as he gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Ready when you are.”

Pushing the feeling away, Hera said, “Okay. Move with me.”

She started to take the first step— and nearly tripped over Kanan’s feet as he moved in the opposite direction. Cursing, he said, “Sorry, sorry. Wrong way.”

Clamping down on the urge to laugh, Hera said, “Let’s start again— this time a little slower.”

Step by step, she slowly walked him through the dance until he was confident and the song had long since finished. Then, she went back over to the speaker, and started it up again. “Let’s see how you do a little faster,” she told him.

His grin was confident and his grip was sure as Kanan took her hand. And then they were moving, feet tapping the ground in sync with the tempo of the drums.

Their start was a little off center, Kanan stumbling a little. But then he found his balance, catching up with her easily. He’d paid good attention to her instructions, and it paid off. Before long, any former missteps were long forgotten as they fell into the rhythm of the dance together.

They were moving in perfect tandem as they spun around the room, the drums and violin echoing through the kitchen. For what felt like forever, Hera could only feel Kanan’s hand in hers, the song humming through her veins, and a warm certainty that came from having the right partner. One who could keep up with her, no matter what.

And then, with a final burst of music, the song was done, and Hera was standing still, hand in hand with Kanan in the middle of the kitchen. Her heart was pounding against her collarbone, and as Kanan grinned at her, she found she couldn’t quite catch her breath.

“Not bad, dear,” she said as another song came onto the speaker, this one slower and smoother. 

“Thanks,” Kanan said. “I’m a little better at dances that I’ve actually had some time to practice, though.”

There was a question in his voice, a hint of a challenge, and Hera couldn’t resist meeting it. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, her voice dry but teasing.

The smile that crossed his face sent a warm flutter through her, and he caught her other hand, bringing it up to his shoulder. “Then by all means, judge,” he said, and with a smooth step they were dancing again, this time a slow waltz like they danced in the Core Worlds.

He hadn’t been wrong— Kanan was good at this, keeping time easily and guiding her gently. As they circled the kitchen, he quietly asked, “I’m assuming that song means something… personal to you?”

“It does,” Hera said, her gaze dropping to her feet. She counted her steps for a minute before she said, “It’s… my mother used to dance to that song. It makes me think of her.”

For the first time, there was the tiniest hitch in Kanan’s stride. “I didn’t mean to pry,” he said. “You don’t have to—”

“No— I want to,” Hera said, finding that it was true. That here, her fingers laced with Kanan’s, she wanted to tell him about her mother.

She couldn’t remember a time when that had happened before.

“It was when I was little,” she told him. “During the Clone War, when we were in the bomb shelters. She would show me the steps to this dance to distract me from the explosions. And to keep me from going to look at the ships.”

Kanan chuckled. “Sounds like you.”

“Hmm. Even when we weren’t in danger, I always seemed to hear that song around her.” Hera smiled at the memory. “I even found her and my father dancing to it once— and he’s not exactly one for dancing. But he— he did it for her, because he loved her. And she loved that song.”

Biting her lip, she paused, then said, “She died when I was thirteen.”

There was no response, and Hera dared a glance at Kanan’s face, wondering what she’d find. His eyes were gentle as he said, “The Empire?”

Hera gave a quick nod, feeling her throat tighten. “After that, it was just me and my father. And he was so focused on leading the Rebellion on Ryloth… it was only a few years before I took off on my own.”

Letting out a shaky exhale, she said, “But I still think of her when I hear that song.  And that dance is… it’s hers, to me.”

“When I asked,” Kanan said slowly, “I didn’t mean to pry into something personal—”

Hera shook her head, cutting him off. “No, no— you weren’t. It was… it was nice to tell someone else about it. She would have liked that.” She hesitated and then added before she could think better of it, “She would have liked you.”

Kanan’s eyes widened, and then a pleased look flashed across his face. “I’m sure I would have liked her,” he told her, his voice deep and sincere. The warmth in his voice made her suddenly hyper aware of his hand resting on her waist, his eyes on her. And… it wasn’t in a bad way.

Kriff. Hera held back her wince. This was the sort of thing she was trying to ignore, but had been finding harder and harder to miss lately. Namely, Kanan. His kindness, and his warmth, and how he treated her. Like she mattered, like his captain. Like a friend and… sometimes something more.

And she shouldn’t admit how much she enjoyed those times. Because she didn’t have time, she had to focus on the cause. Nothing mattered more than that. Nothing could.

But when he joked with her, or made a point of making one of her favorite meals, or called her “Captain Hera” in that voice, it could be very hard to remember that nothing was supposed to matter more. 

Even now, dancing with him in the kitchen, his hands gentle but firm, her mind whispered, What if I could have this, and still fight?

You know you can’t, she told herself. You’ll put it all first, and he deserves better than that. He wouldn’t stick around anyways, not for long. Not with that. No one could wait for that long.

“Hera?”

Kanan’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she glanced back up to see him studying her with concern. “You okay?” he asked. “You looked like you were a thousand miles away.”

“Fine,” Hera said, pushing the thoughts aside. “Just— just thinking. We should probably go get the rest of the supplies inside, and—”

“Hera.”

This time, it wasn’t a question, and Force, why did he have to look at her like that? Like she was the only thing in the galaxy, like the stars themselves were shining in her eyes. Hera tried to force herself to step back, to move away.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. For once, she wanted something for herself, one thing that wasn’t a part of her cause. And so she stepped closer to Kanan and cautiously pressed her lips against his.

He went very still, and then he was kissing her back, hand at her waist pulling her closer and his free hand moving up to cup the side of her face. And his response was far from cautious. It was warm and gentle and so completely Kanan that Hera felt almost weak at the knees.

She hadn’t thought that it would be like this. So… right. Like she’d found a part of herself she was missing. And now that she found it, how was she ever supposed to be without it?

A clatter of metal on metal, and loud binary bwomping jerked her back to reality, and Hera pulled back, breaking the kiss. She stared at Kanan, who was just as wide-eyed as she was, and then turned to where Chopper was sitting in the doorway. “What the kark is going on in here?” the droid demanded. “We were supposed to bring in the supplies.”

“You’re right,” Hera said, shocked that her voice could stay so steady when she felt like she was shaking to pieces. “Both of you get started on that— I need to finish up here. And no arguments, Chopper,” she added as the droid started to beep a protest. “This isn’t a discussion.”

Chopper grumbled something sulky, and rolled back down the hall. Leaving Hera alone. With Kanan. Who she had just kissed.

Forcibly shoving the memory out of her mind, she told him, “You should go, too.”

“So… we’re not going to talk about—”

“No,” Hera said, keeping her voice firm and steady. “I am going to apologize, and then we’re not going to talk about it ever again.”

Because that was all she could do. She couldn’t have Kanan and the cause. There was no way. So she met his gaze and said, her voice soft, “I’m sorry. Now, please… go help Chopper.”

His gaze was unreadable as he studied her for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Hera echoed, and turned back to the pieces of the dishwasher scattered across the counter, trying to pretend like he wasn’t still standing behind her, watching her. Trying to pretend like she couldn’t still feel the ghost of his lips on hers.

She heard him step closer to her, then pause. “Hera? Thank you.”

Hera wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or burst into tears. “For what?”

“For the lesson. And… for telling me. Trusting me. It means a lot.”

With that, he turned and left, footsteps echoing inside the hallway, leaving Hera in a swirl of emotions she didn’t know how to put back together. That was so, so stupid. Why did I have to do that?

It wouldn’t be easy to go back after this, but she’d find a way. A way to pretend they were just friends, that he didn’t mean more to her. She’d remind herself that the cause came first, that there were people who needed help, and go back to being his boss and his friend.

But. In the latest parts of the night, when she couldn’t hold it back, the memory of the kiss would resurface. And she would know that it was worth it. And that if she had the choice, she wouldn’t have changed it. She only would have stopped him from walking away.

[75-spectrekestis]

I wrote two fics for Kanera Week 2023!!

Rating: teen

Summary: Kanan decides one night that the bar scene is no longer for him, feelings of guilt he can't explain eating at him. Cue Hera Syndulla, a pile of blankets, and a cheesy romcom to show him that maybe it's time to leave the past in the past.

Written for the prompt:

Day 1- Keep it to yourself (pre-relationship, sneaking around, we need to talk)

Rating : Mature

Summary:

Routines changed and they grew older, but a few things remained the same. More often than not Kanan found a way to fold himself into her embrace over the years, this night was no different.

Day 5- For the prompt: Never find anything better / Early mornings + late nights

I Hope to have one more fic posted within the next two days that combine days 3 and 4 since I sorta, kinda ran out of time lol.

[leiasleftbun]

Ok so I only completed one thing for this week but A for effort. This was made from polymer clay so I could say that I made Clay-nan Jarrus.

[amalthiaph]

Walks in on the trend late (as late as Qui-Gon's Force Ghost arriving at the last few minutes of the Kenobi Series, years after the fall of the Jedi Order courtesy of the boy he won from a bet in Tatooine), coffee on one hand, slams on the table a concept that has been done before.

Anyway, here's my take on the "She's everything. He's just Kanan."

I also know it was Kanera Week 2023 but I don't understand how prompts work. So have this rushed fanart instead.

My Asks are now open btw.

Bye.

[kaneraweek]

We’re very happy and excited to announce the prompts for Kanera Week 2023!

Another year, another Kanera Week! Unlike the last two years, there will only be five prompts and five days. In the past it's been seven, but this makes it easier for both mods and creators! The prompts this year are a little different from past years. There's a broad theme for each day and more specific ones for those who like those types of prompts! Kanera Week is something we look forward to each year and we're very grateful you all keep coming back and participating and we're also happy to have some new faces as well! Let's have some fun!

Tuesday (August 1st)

Broad: Keep It To Yourself

Specific: Pre-Relationship | Sneaking Around | We Need To Talk

Wednesday (August 2nd)

Broad: The You Before We Met

Specific: Family | Memories | Culture

Thursday (August 3rd)

Broad: Everybody Talks

Specific: Rumors | Outside POV | Shutting People Up

Friday (August 4th)

Broad: Follow You Into The Dark

Specific: Death | Regrets | The End

Saturday (August 5th)

Broad: Never Find Anything Better

Specific: Happily Ever After | Jealousy | Early Mornings + Late Nights

We're super excited to see what you creative people come up with this year! It's sure to be a great week!

Remember to tag your post(s) with #kaneraweek2023!

[ladyanidala]

Masterlist

Hello hello!

Welcome to my fledgling masterlist, the place where you'll find just about everything I have written over on AO3. Below, you'll find my works, request guidelines, and anything I think of after I publish this. Enjoy!

LadyAnidala

Ships

Reader Insert

Masterlist

Anidala

Masterlist

Obitine

Masterlist

Rexsoka

Masterlist

Sabezra

Masterlist

Kanera

Masterlist

Rebelcaptain

Masterlist

Merrical

Masterlist

Alternate Universes

(Eventually this section will be updated with individual chapters and more masterlists, but as of 5/7/2024, I can't be bothered)

We're Not Needed Here

General Obi-Wan Kenobi of the Grand Army of the Republic, Jedi General of the 212th Battalion, has had enough.

Series link is here.

Her Step Forward

In the galaxy far, far away that we know and love, Anakin Skywalker fell to the Dark Side, leaving destruction and death in his wake.

In another galaxy slightly closer, yet still far, far away, the wife of Anakin Skywalker took a step forward on Mustafar, not backward.

Series link is here.

Letting Go

Master Qui-Gon Jinn and Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi have kept Duchess Satine Kryze alive. The mission is complete, and they're heading back to Coruscant for a well deserved rest.

They never make it back.

Series link is here.

And With A Cry, My Chains Are Gone

It is the eve of the Fall of the Republic, and Anakin Skywalker is terrified of losing his wife.

The Force isn't having it.

Story link is here.

Oya'la

This story centers on Olyssia, a young woman with amnesia who finds herself aboard one of the Venators belonging to the 501st. The only thing she can remember is the order to kill Palpatine.

What Once Was Lost, I Have Found Again

Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala were dead. His corpse stayed behind on Mustafar, while hers was on a backwater planet, trying to survive for the sake of her children.

Commander Thorn had defected. There was nowhere in the galaxy he could go, and he wanted out. He was tired of fighting.

Story link is here.

Event Participations

Obitine Week 2023

The series can be found here.

Miscellaneous

Fox

Left on Read - based on a prompt found in the wild on Tumblr. Fox goes home to surprise his brothers, and none of them see him. Modern AU.

My Time Has Come (Brother, Let Me Weep) - Fox finds out about Ponds' death from the shiny grapevine. Soldiers can't mourn, and so he doesn't.

Ahsoka

Seeping Through My Memory - Ahsoka can't stop seeing death when she closes her eyes. She ends up at Anakin's quarters, desperate for comfort and life to go back to normal.

The Bad Batch

You Weren't There (Brother, I'd Hold You To The End) - Crosshair can't handle living after everything he's done. He sends a final message to the Batch. Written before s3 aired.

Jedi Survivor

Ghost Star, Are You Very Far? - Two times Kata gets to hear a story about her parents.

Request Guidelines

So you found your way down to the bottom of the abyss- ah, the masterlist. Welcome! I can only assume you're either curious about what I'll write, or you want to request something yourself. Either way, happy to have you here!

A couple rules...

I will not write smut or suggestive content. I don't feel comfortable writing literary porn whatsoever. Any requests asking me to write smut will be deleted. (If you're ever interested as to why I won't write it, feel free to send a message/ask! I don't mind talking about it!)

I will not write clonecest or same sex romantic pairings. Again, these are things that I'm simply not comfortable with. Any asks for these will be deleted.

Beyond those two things above, go wild! I love a challenge, and am down to write platonic and romantic pieces.

[anoray]

Hello Exceedingly Patient Readers of Spectre One Rises,

I hope you will enjoy this latest section of the story (AO3 account needed to access) and feel it was worth the wait! This is not officially part of Kanera Week 2023, but I'm posting now in honor of this special time and all the fabulous writers and artists contributing to the celebration!

Many thanks go out to @spectre83, @opalknight, @aaftergloweeye, @pretchatta, @iknowwhattosaynow, and @veritascara for all their time, encouragement and support during the beta process!

And a huge shout out to @jun-c for the absolutely amazing artwork commission below :))))

[lena-hills]

I'm finally working through my WIP Kanera Week fics! 2/5 done!

Rated T, 3k words, fluff & humor.

When Kanan wakes up hungover with a new tattoo he doesn't even remember getting, it's a battle to keep the secret written on his skin from his incredible Captain. Especially when she has any number of ways to try to get the truth out of him.

Kanera Week 2023 - Day 1, Broad: Keep It To Yourself, Specific: Pre-Relationship | Sneaking Around | We Need To Talk

[bikananjarrus]

remember that first laugh? (all it changed once i had that)

kanera week 2023: Day 1 — Pre-relationship

word count: ~1550

rating: T

note: this fic is a little silly, but i wanted to try for a more playful, fun tone, and had a lot of fun in doing so. it’s been a while since I’ve written kanera and I’ve missed them 🥹 enjoy!

(title taken from dermot kennedy’s song “Rome”)

——— Kanan wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t.

Surely if he repeated it enough times to himself, it would be true. It had to be true. Because if he really was jealous, that would mean he had feelings for Hera that he wasn’t supposed to. Which he definitely didn’t—

He sighed. He definitely did have feelings for her.

Elbows pressed firmly into the scuffed bar top, he twirled the straw from his alcohol-free drink between his fingers. He was at the far end of the curved bar counter, with a perfect view of the booth where Hera was chattering with the contact Fulcrum had put them in touch with.

The contact—Gill, a relatively handsome human man with dark blonde hair, clean shaven jaw, and dimpled chin—was smiling broadly. And Hera—dressed for the part in snug black pants, knee-high matching black boots, and a sequined long-sleeved purple top with matching scarf instead of her flight goggles—she was laughing. It certainly didn’t look like they were talking about coordinates for a massive drop of Imperial weapons, like they were supposed to be.

She’s just acting, Kanan told himself, just playing the part. That’s not her real laugh.

And he would know. Right?

In the last year they’d been working together, Hera had only graced him with her laughter a handful of times. He’d gotten plenty of smiles out of her, but getting her to laugh when she was all business most of the time was a harder feat.

And the first full laugh she ever gave him had knocked the breath right out of his lungs. He was positive he’d fallen in love right then and there.

So. He was sure that he’d seen her real laugh enough times to know this wasn’t it.

Gill touched her arm lightly, once, before pulling away. And Hera—damn good at her job—smiled a little more demurely and even batted her lashes a bit.

Kanan took a sip of his drink to hide his ever-growing frown.

It’s not like he and Hera were actually together. If she wanted to flirt with a contact, she absolutely should. She’d made it clear to Kanan from the beginning that she wasn’t looking for a relationship with him—they were partners. And he loved being her co-pilot; it was the most stable he’d felt in years and fighting back against the Empire felt damn good.

But as much as he tried to brush away any growing feelings, they just kept coming back twofold. He couldn’t help it. He was inexplicably drawn to her.

But he wouldn’t let his jealousy and general grumpiness at the situation ruin a perfectly good op. So he sat and sipped on his drink and tried to focus on the mission at hand.

::

His jealousy totally almost ruined a perfectly good op.

It wasn’t his fault—really. Gill was the one to blame for trying to shirk them out of the intel he owed them, and getting too handsy on top of it.

And Kanan, well, he’d just reacted.

After finishing a second drink—a much too sweet soda—they’d been getting close to their time limit on the deal, and there had still been no hand-off from Gill. The time limit was one that Hera and Kanan had set themselves, based off past experiences. With a contact like Gill, ninety minutes was usually a good average. Anything more and things tended to go wrong.

Lo and behold, over an hour into the meet, Kanan had noticed Hera starting to get agitated, anxious. Her shoulders had stiffened, and she’d leaned slightly out of Gill’s space. Her smile had all but disappeared.

And that’s when Gill had said he wasn’t going to give them the information.

Well, Kanan wasn’t exactly sure what he’d said. He couldn’t read lips. But that was the gist of it. He was sure that Gill probably asked for double, if not triple, the amount of credits promised to him in payment for the information.

And then he’d slid closer to Hera, closing that distance she’d put between them, and reaching an arm around her back. Hera, plenty able to take care of herself, slithered out of his grasp and told him off. Though her gaze was steely, Kanan couldn’t hear her across the crowded bar, which meant she wasn’t yelling. Still being as polite as possible to salvage the mission.

Kanan, on the other hand, was already standing and making his way through the throng of patrons towards their table.

Hera and Gill were standing too, by the time he got there.

He got close enough to hear Gill’s voice, as syrupy sweet as the soda Kanan had drunk, trying to placate Hera.

“I don’t think so,” Hera said in response. “I have the credits we agreed upon—they’re all yours for the intel you promised.”

Gill barely finished muttering Twi’lek insults under his breath and reaching, more aggressively, towards Hera, before Kanan’s fist was connecting with his jaw.

Things devolved from there. And by devolved he meant turned into a bar-brawl.

Over the years, he’d gotten awfully good at starting those. Probably not something to be too proud of, but he was grinning wildly anyway as he and Hera escaped the mess of fighting bodies.

Now, he and Hera had tucked themselves away into a tight alley between two apartment buildings. The Ghost was docked on the other side of town. They were making their way as quickly, but carefully, as possible back to the ship. They didn’t want Gill, or Stormtroopers, local security, or a belligerent bar patron to catch up to them.

Panting slightly from their mad dash away from the cantina, Hera leaned her head back against the alley wall. She tugged on the sleeves of the jacket he’d given her to cover up her more conspicuous sparkly top. “Well, that was a total bust. I’ll have to let Fulcrum know to be careful with Gill in the future.” Then, under her breath, she muttered, “Two-timing piece of Bantha shit.”

Kanan, leaning against the opposite wall, still no more than three feet from her, chuckled. “You’ve got that right.”

Hera’s eyes darted up to him, like she was surprised he heard her. Her cheeks flushed, as if embarrassed to be heard cursing. As if she hadn’t done it a million times before while working on the Ghost or while trying to plan an escape from situations like this one.

“Though,” Kanan continued, fighting back a triumphant smile, “you’re wrong about the other thing.”

“What?”

Rifling around in the pocket of his pants, he pulled out a small black box. “It wasn’t a total loss.” Hera’s mouth dropped at the sight of the datacube, and she grabbed it from his outstretched hand. He explained with a shrug, “Grabbed it off Gill in the scuffle.”

“Kanan,” was all she said, still holding the datacube like it was a precious jewel. Her face broke out into a wide smile, and his heart leaped at the sight of it. Then, earnestly, “Thank you.”

“‘Course.”

“And you’re all right?” Green eyes gave him a once over.

His jaw would probably have a bruise from the one lucky hit Gill got in. And his knuckles were a little sore from the punch he threw. But other than that he was fine.

“Not a scratch on me,” he declared.

Turning to take a look out the mouth of the alley, he was about to tell Hera the coast was clear when she made a sound behind him.

“Uh, Kanan?”

He twisted back towards her, and she had a hand covering her mouth, eyes bright with amusement. She swallowed, fighting back hard against the smile dancing on her lips. “Seems there was, uh, one casualty in that fight.”

He blinked at her, brows furrowing.

“Turn around,” Hera said, gaze dropping towards—his ass?

Confused, he pivoted, craning his neck and looking down.

There, almost glaringly bright in the dim light of the alley, was the fabric of his boxer briefs, visible through the tear in his pants. He remembered people tugging on his clothes, trying to haul him into the fight, as he’d shielded Hera on their way out of the cantina before. Someone had clearly gotten a good hold on his back pocket and—combined with clearly shoddy stitching—ripped the pocket half off his right cheek.

So that’s what that tearing sound had been earlier.

Now it was his turn to blush, cheeks heating instantaneously as he looked back at Hera. He pointed in the direction of his torn pants, voice as serious as he could muster. “You know my underwear are only pink because of those red towels you threw into the wash, right?”

Hera opened her mouth to say something—but then she just started laughing, doubling over with the force of it.

Kanan could only lean back against the wall and watch as she tried to cover it up with a hand, but she gave up after a moment as her laughter continued.

“I’m sorry, I—” she broke off into another peal of laughter. Her eyes were crinkled in delight, and he was pretty sure he saw moisture pricking at the corners of them, she was laughing so hard.

It was the most joyous thing he’d ever seen, the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

His laughter joined hers; and in that moment, Kanan didn’t care if they were found.

Because this laugh—even if she was laughing at him—was real. And it was all for him.

[strige-art]

Kanera Week 2023, day 2: Family

The Consular AU!

Despite Palpatine's death, the war continues for an additional two years.

Rulers, Guilds, and warlords are not resigned to the loss of power that the Sith had granted them, forcing the Jedi to remain on the battlefield to rid the galaxy of their influence.

Eventually most of those who had supported the former chancellor's rise are found and arrested, including many members of the senate.

This calls for new elections and Cham Syndulla then becomes senator of Ryloth.

Waiting for him and his family when they arrive on Coruscant are his old friend Mace Windu along with his lineage, Depa Billaba and his Padawan Caleb Dume.

Young Hera is not at all impressed by the quiet, brooding 15-year-old boy.

[kanerallels]

The final day of @kaneraweek is here, and with it, insane amounts of fluff!! I really liked today's prompt, and had a lot of fun with it (plus I got some AMAZING art to accompany it, check it out here!)

Read on AO3!!

Taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @heckin-music-dork @auroramagpie @accidental-spice @day-to-day-thots @firefoxtessa @cassie-fanfics @opalknight (DM me if you want to be removed or added from the list!)

It was always a toss up on whether Kanan woke before Hera did each morning. There were plenty of mornings when he woke up alone because she had an early morning mission, or because she’d never come to bed in the first place because she was too busy working on something for Sato or Ahsoka or one of the thousands of other people she was determined to help.

It wasn’t that Kanan disliked her helping people. She wouldn’t be the woman he loved if she didn’t do that. But that didn’t mean she should neglect herself, like when he found her awake at all hours of the night and early morning, studying a datapad or trying to find a new place to locate supplies for the Rebellion.

This happened far too often for Kanan’s liking, but he was already working on becoming an expert at convincing her to get some sleep.

Other mornings, he woke up first, finding Hera still asleep next to him. Some of the time, he slipped out of bed and did his morning meditations, readying himself for the day ahead of him. Other times, he let himself watch Hera sleep for a little while, just enjoying the fact that he was by her side.

But his favorite mornings were the ones where they got up at the same time, before everyone else— Sabine and Ezra generally slept in unless instructed otherwise, and Zeb had mastered the ability of getting up at exactly the right moment so they had at least an hour before he appeared. It was a routine they’d perfected over the past eight years, and Kanan loved it.

They made their way to the kitchen together— Kanan’s hair bundled out of the way messily, still yawning as he shuffled towards the cupboards. Hera looked a little more awake, other than the dark circles under her eyes that Kanan never mentioned but always worried about. 

She was the one that went to the caf maker and started it, filling it with the aromatic beans. No one made caf like Hera. Kanan had sworn up and down from the first time he’d tasted it that it was the best he’d ever drunk, and she would always laugh at him. But she kept making the caf, and he’d still take it over the fanciest brews from the moons of Rion and beyond.

While she worked on that, Kanan started on breakfast. What he made varied from day to day— most mornings it was something quick and easy, like oatmeal or frozen sausages or something they could make quickly. But there were times when he liked to go with something fancier, too. French toast, bacon and eggs when they could get them, waffles (Zeb and Ezra’s favorite), or the spicy sausage from Karlini that didn’t come pre-formed (Sabine’s favorite). 

This was one of those days, and he started digging through the cooling unit to see what he could come up with.

“What’s on the menu today?” Hera asked from her position by the caf maker, her voice still a little raspy with the sleep. Kanan felt the corner of his mouth turn up into a small smile at the sound. Even now her voice was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

“Good question.” Frowning at the contents of the cooling supply unit, Kanan said, “Well, we’ve got a couple eggs left— not enough for breakfast burritos or anything like that. But I’m pretty sure we have enough flour left, and we’ve got butter— is there baking powder in the cupboard above you?”

Pulling open the cupboard, Hera pulled out an orange tin. “There is.”

“Good,” Kanan said with a grin. “Waffles it is.”

Hera snorted with amusement as she passed him the tin and started to open the cupboards next to her. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Because you know how much everyone, including you, loves my waffles?” Kanan suggested, pulling the waffle iron out of its specially assigned alcove in front of him and plugging it in. As he began to assemble the ingredients, he heard Hera laugh, and couldn’t resist a smile in response.

It had been a little over seven years since he’d met Hera and joined her crew, six since that relationship became something far stronger than just crew mates, or even friends, and closer to five since a series of near death experiences including being jumped by a bounty hunter, the Ghost getting stolen (along with Zeb and Chopper), and getting stranded on a tropical planet had led to their relationship becoming something permanent.

While Hera’s culture didn’t do wedding rings, the moon orbiting Rion where they’d made things official did, and Kanan hadn’t hesitated at the price. He’d been ready, ready to commit everything he had to this woman. And, by some miracle, she had been, too.

Neither of them still wore the rings— giving the Empire more leverage against either of them was the last thing they wanted to do, and that would make it too obvious— but Kanan still carried his with him everywhere. He knew Hera did the same. 

As he started mixing up the batter for the waffles, he sensed rather than heard her behind him, and glanced over his shoulder to see her approaching with two mugs of caf. “Thanks,” he said, turning and accepting the mug gratefully.

“Any time, love.” Settling against the counter next to him, Hera watched as he took the first sip, closing his eyes to savor the taste.

Opening his eyes, he grinned at her. “Incredible as always, Captain Hera. If this Rebellion thing doesn’t work out, you could set up shop.”

Though she rolled her eyes, Kanan could see she was pleased. “You’d better hope this Rebellion thing works out.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Kanan said, turning back to his work. Setting his caf mug to the side, he selected one of the few remaining eggs as he said, “I think it would be a pretty good job for us. You make the caf, I make the food.”

“And where does the Empire fit into this daydream of yours?” Hera quipped, and Kanan frowned.

Cracking the first egg, he said, “Forgot about them. Fine, we’ll do it after this whole Rebellion thing works out.” He cracked two more eggs, then started measuring out the milk as he continued. “Now, obviously, the kids can come with us. Zeb’s the busboy, Chopper and Ezra can be waiters, and Sabine’s my sous chef. Rex can even come if he wants— what?”

He caught Hera watching him, an odd expression on her face. “Nothing,” she said, glancing back down at her caf. “Just— it sounds nice, actually.”

“Of course it does,” Kanan told her. Pausing, he set aside the measuring cup and moved to stand in front of her. “Hey.”

She glanced up, and Kanan felt his heart flutter just a little when he met those green eyes of hers. It had been years, but words still failed him half the time. He thought they probably always would.

“Hey,” she said quietly, smiling at him. “What?”

“Once this is over, I’ll go anywhere you do,” he told her. “You know that, right? We’ll figure out what our future is together once we win this.”

“If we win this.” The words were quiet, and Kanan knew why. Hera was always the strong one, the one who had utter faith in the Rebellion. At least that was how she acted.

But everyone had doubts, even her. “When,” he told her firmly. “We’re gonna win this.” Leaning in, he kissed her gently, feeling her move away from the counter and towards him.

When he pulled away, he added, “And that’s a Kanan guarantee.”

As he moved back to work, he heard Hera laugh. “That’s not a thing.”

“It should be.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that, dear.”

As Kanan poured the first dollop of batter into the waffle iron, he shot her a grin. “Then you’re just gonna have to trust me.”

The smile she sent back warmed him to the core. “You know I do.”

Kanan briefly contemplated stealing another kiss, but he could hear the sounds of doors opening and voices from deeper in the Ghost. The kids were up, which meant their limited private time was over for now.

But that was alright. He had the rest of his life to spend with Hera, and his family, and he intended to enjoy every minute of it.

[75-spectrekestis]

I wrote one last fic for Kanera Week 2023! Little late but here it is;

Rating : Mature (mainly for inability to stop making sex jokes and innuendos sorry y’all but there is canon character death)

Summary: Instead, she focused on the way Kanan and Hera looked each other over after every mission, searching for injuries with featherlight touches.

Or

Ahsoka watches over the years as Kanan and Hera's relationship grows from semi-tolerant crewmates to something more.

For the prompts:

Day 3:Everybody talks, Outside POV

Day 4: Follow You into the Dark, Death, Regrets, the End.

[random-letters-i-just-thought-of]

Sadly, I missed day 4 of @kaneraweek, but I have something for today! I mostly went with the prompt "Late Nights" and "Jealousy". I also thought "outside PoV" was for today, because I came up with this at 2am in bed when I, of course, couldn't check the prompts😂. But when I realized my mistake, I already had the whole thing planned out and didn't want to change everything, so... here you go with a story from Kallus PoV🙃.

It's also here on ao3:

My works for Kanera Week 2023 (7470 words) by RandomLettersIJustThoughtOf Day 5: Never Find Anything Better (Late Nights | Happily Ever After | Jealousy) Hera is about to pull an all nighter with her paperwork again, but Kanan is not having it.

Sometimes, Kallus wondered how he ended up like this. How he ended up sitting across from his former arch enemy, Hera Syndulla, at a table of an improvised office at the rebel base of Javin IV, going over plans and strategies, sorting reports from units all over the sector, and making task lists and organizations till late at night.  The life as a rebel knew no structure. It meant you stayed up until dawn on days when it was necessary, and then on another day, you could do nothing but sit around and wait and hope. It was strange, being used to the all-consuming structure of the empire, but it also felt strangely right. This was work he really wanted to do, not one he was obliged or expected to do.

So he did stay up, even though the caff had run out hours ago and the occasional chatter had died down as officer after officer left the room until only he and Hera were left, buried in the remaining paperwork and too worried to leave the plans for the next day unchecked.

Sometimes, Kallus was still baffled that they were letting him do this. That they trusted him, a former imperial, to oversee their military operations. Yes, from a strategic point of view, it made sense; he knew the enemy, and he was trained as a strategist.

Still, sometimes, in moments like this, he looked at the reports and exact plans of the next rebel attacks and remembered how much he would have given for a fraction of this information two years ago. And then he thought of all the other things he had done and was shocked by how much these people were willing to trust him and how easily they had forgiven him when he didn't even forgive himself.

Hera, who he had hunted down multiple times and whose family he had threatened and hurt, leaned over and asked him for his opinion on some starship formation tactics she was working on.

He just nodded and rubbed a hand over his face to fight the exhaustion creeping in. "Makes sense to me. You'll just have to watch out for these damn Tie Defenders. They're a nasty invention."

"Right, but there are only like four of them, aren't there? We can't possibly run into them every maneuver."

"Still, they're a risk we have to consider now. As far as I know Thrawn and the empire, there are probably more than we know of."

"So, maybe we should add a flexible fighter on both sides?"

Kallus shrugged. "Better safe than sorry."

Hera nodded and went back to scribbling. For a moment, he just watched her.  He had always known she was a skilled and determined pilot, but he had not known how much she CARED. She was not just a cocky young woman rebelling for the sake of troublemaking. No, she had a vision. She had hope for a brighter and better future. And she was ready to fight for it. She was a leader. She had a fire burning in her, and she inspired the same in the people who worked with her. Kallus could see why Zeb would follow her anywhere.  Silently, they went back to working.

The next time he looked up, it was to the quiet swoosh of the door opening. Kanan stood behind it, peeking inside.

Immediately, Kallus tensed up. Then, a moment later, he cursed himself for it and forced himself to relax. Even after all this time, his reflexes still made him go into fight mode whenever he saw the taller man, no matter how many times he told himself it was unnecessary now.  But, while his hatred for Zeb had always come from guilt and anger over the guilt he was feeling, his hatred for Kanan had always been rooted in fear. The fear not only of an extremely skilled warrior but also of a Jedi. The ones he had been thought to fear since his childhood. The dangerous maniacs who brought violence upon the whole galaxy. The traitors. The monsters he was made to believe the Jedi to be. And, even though he now knew neither Kanan nor the Jedi were anything like this, the fear was still there, just like the guilt.

So he still flinched whenever Kanan walked into him like this. And maybe rightly so. Kallus knew from experience that Kanan could beat the shit out of him if he wanted to. Not even the fact that he lost his sight could change anything about that. In fact, Kanan seemed as if he had grown even more powerful after that.

Now, Kanan was not wearing his mask, and Kallus could clearly see the scars surrounding his, now unseeing, eyes. He shuddered. He had never asked what had happened, but he knew lightsaber wounds and he knew the inquisitors. He could put two and two together. The fact that Kanan was still alive was enough to tell Kallus that maybe everybody should have the same amount of respect for this guy as him.

But now, Kanan just gave an appreciative nod to Kallus and then turned all his attention to Hera.

"There you are!", he greeted her, walking up to the desk to put his arms on every side of her paper and lean down to her.

Hera looked up as if she only noticed him now, even though she must have heard the door opening as well.

"Kanan, what do you need?", she asked in the clear tone of someone trying to play clueless, even though they knew exactly what was going on.

"What I need," Kanan answered, accusingly lifting one finger and poking her in the chest, "is you going to bed, right now. Do you have any idea how late it is?"

"Kanan...", Hera grumbled and tried to dodge him.

"Uh-uh." Kanan shook his head and interrupted her by placing his finger on her lip. "I won't hear that. You need sleep!"

Hera blushed deeply at his gesture and mumbled something incomprehensible since Kanan had decided to cover her whole mouth with his hand. A bit of wrangling ensued as Hera tried to free herself. But Kanan was much bigger than her and remained unfazed.

"I can't hear you, what was that? You're tired?", he teased her, but his tone was so gentle and filled with love that Kallus nearly blushed himself for intruding in their little moment.

He tried his best to concentrate heavily on his paper on weather conditions on Hoth rather than the gentle tussle and occasional giggling from his two teammates. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but smile a bit. These two! Sickeningly sweet.

As he shot them a few looks over the table, he realized that maybe this was the real reason he had left the empire. Yes, the obvious greed and cruelty were what convinced him in the end, but he wouldn't even have started to look or care for them if the people hadn't been so... emotionally cold compared to the rebels.  The empire was an all-consuming machine of oppression. It nipped every kind of humanity and affection in the bud, despised it, and punished it.  These people here were allowed to be human. They were allowed to feel, to care, to love. They could have little moments like this, little sparks of happiness. Of hope, even in such dark times. As he looked at Kanan and Hera, he knew: If one day he found something like this, it would be more than he ever deserved. And yet it was all he could ever hope for. All he wished for so desperately. Peace. Love. Family. He felt bad for wishing for things like that after he had taken the very same from so many people all around the galaxy during his time with the empire. He did not deserve something like that. He could never have what Kanan and Hera had. But sometimes, when he watched the ghost crew like this, when he thought about how easily all the specters, all the rebels had forgiven him, he felt a little spark of hope rise.

He looked at Kanan and Hera and saw everything good in the galaxy. And then he felt bad for having fought it for so long. None of them deserved any of the pain they had to go through. The galaxy did not deserve the destruction the empire had brought upon it. The least he could do, was to give everything he could to this rebellion, to these people. To maybe at least start to make up for everything.

"Alright, alright, that's enough!", he heard Kanan end their little tussle. "Don't make me carry you!"

"Kanan!", Hera gasped, finally free to speak now that Kanan used both hands to pick her up from her chair. "I'm not finished yet!"

"Yes, you are! Kallus, tell her she's finished!"

Kallus smiled. "It's alright, General. I'm sure I can sort the rest out by myself."

Kanan frowned at him. "You know it's late for you, too, right?"

He laughed. "I will be finished in no time, don't worry."

With an arm full of Hera, Kanan gave him a skeptical look.

"I'll send Zeb to look for you."

"No, you really don't need..." he tried to argue, but Kanan was already out of the door.

"I'm sure he'll be happy to carry you out as well!" he called back over his shoulder, and then he was gone, and Kallus was left shaking his head and wondering what the hell that was supposed to mean.

[spectre83]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: A New Dawn - John Jackson Miller Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla Characters: Kanan Jarrus, Hera Syndulla Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Casual Sex, Friends With Benefits, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Kanera Week 2023, Blow Jobs, Vaginal Sex, no beta we die like stormtroopers Summary:

Kanan ponders the nature of their relationship while Hera would rather stick to the physicality of their relationship.

It’s @kaneraweek!!!!!!

[kaneraweek]

is there gonna be a kanera week 2023?

the mods convened and yes, we’ll be having kaneraweek 2023! we’re shooting for the summer instead of september I believe, and will announce the dates soon. ❤️