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mostthingskenobi · 10 months

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CASSIAN'S RECKONING - Chapter 6: The Detritus

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Tarkin pushes Cassian too far…and all the rebel can do is think about Jyn.

Here's a nice long chapter for you. I hope you enjoy reading it :)

READ THE FIC ON AO3

THIS IS A WHUMPY FIC W/GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. PLEASE HEED THE TAGS ON AO3.

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CHAPTER 6: THE DETRITUS

Cassian was freezing, his teeth audibly chattering in his head.

Why is it so damn cold in here? he thought, his brain feeling slow and frozen like the rest of his body. Aren’t they cold too? he wondered of his captors. Tarkin paced back and forth, seemingly impervious to the iciness. The death troopers shifted their weight. He could hear their gear creaking.

The temperature had dropped so low that blood was beginning to freeze in Cassian’s hair and along the edge of his right eye. His skin was burned under the electrobinders. His lungs ached. He could barely see. Whatever the IT-O droid injected had practically blinded him, retracting his vision until he could only make out blurry images directly in front.

But the pain.

The pain was beyond anything he could have imagined.

And it was constant, a never-ending barrage that flooded every nerve, every cogent thought. He lost consciousness several times, but the droid instantly revived him, showing no mercy. At first, he had been cataloguing each scratch, trying to rationalize his way through the agony. It’s only a chemical reaction. They hadn’t needed severe tactics; the injections multiplied the smallest cut into fire that bloomed across his nervous system. He tried to reason away the pain, trick his brain into believing it was an illusion.

But that didn’t work.

Eventually he had vomited on one of the death troopers. Cassian wanted to laugh every time he remembered it. The trooper had practically yelped before punching him; it was a small price to pay for something so deeply satisfying. Cassian allowed himself to laugh out loud when Tarkin ordered the soldier from the room. “Sorry to spoil everyone’s fun,” he snorted.

The Grand Moff hadn’t found the incident nearly as amusing as Cassian. His response was to increase the interrogation’s intensity. The droid used a razor-thin blade to pepper the rebel’s body with small half-inch cuts. Nothing significant in an of themselves, but together, and combined with the droid’s relentless injections, they became excruciating. His neck, his chest, his face, his hands, his fingers, his feet; there was nowhere to retreat from the pain.

Tarkin kept asking him to identify everyone who had been with him on Scarif, showing him one hologram after another. When Jyn’s face appeared, Cassian had made a strange sound, somewhere between a gasp and a croak, that he managed to cover up with a coughing fit. Jyn’s smokey eyes, her mocking smirk, almost undid him right then and there. He knew he should stuff that part of himself somewhere deep and dark, cover her up and convince himself that she was nothing.

If he didn’t, he would break.

If he broke and gave the Empire what they wanted, Jyn would be next on Tarkin’s list.

The thought of her enduring the Grand Moff’s sadistic interrogation techniques made him sick to his stomach. He would endure this pain so she and the other members of Rogue One wouldn’t have to.

By now, Cassian was in a stupor. His head fell back as he struggled for air. Every breath burned.

For the first time, the IT-O droid spoke. “A suspension of interrogation is recommended.” Its voice was monotone and deep.

“Whatever for?” Tarkin replied, annoyed.

“Subject’s core temperature is dangerously low and continued hyperventilation of cold, dry air has put the prisoner at risk. If we carry on, his lungs will fill with blood and he will be useless to you.”

“What do you suggest?”

“Allow the room’s temperature to rise above freezing.”

The Grand Moff did not hide his irritation. “Do it,” he said, moving toward the door. “We can’t have him dying on us. We have far too much to discuss.”

——————–

He didn’t know how long they left him alone. He could feel warm air blowing into the room and he forced himself to focus on how it felt against his skin. Eventually, he stopped shaking as his blood and lungs returned to normal temperatures.

He wanted to sleep or cry. He wasn’t sure which urge was stronger. But he was afraid to do either.

For now, he focused on tangibles. He knew the warmth wouldn’t last, so he drowned himself in it, letting it permeate every sense.

It reminded him of something.

A warm breeze on a curved shoreline.

And orangish-pink sky.

Sand under his knees.

Scarif.

That hellish mission haunted him like no other.

All of this, everything Tarkin was doing to him now, was because of Scarif. Cassian’s heart tightened in his chest. He hoped the sacrifice was worth it. He hoped the Death Star plans were with the right people, people who were smart enough and brave enough to blow these imperial bastards to hell. He had already lost so much; anyone he ever cared about had disappeared like smoke.

Except Jyn.

The thought hovered in his mind, frozen on the threshold as he tried to decide whether to welcome or banish it.

Cassian clenched his teeth and swallowed thickly.

He let her in.

He didn’t care about the risk, didn’t care if it made him defenseless. He needed her strength.

So, he permitted himself to think about her.

She was unexpected. Wary, damaged, and bitter when they first met.

Just like him.

But, over time, as they proceeded through Operation Fracture’s labyrinthine twists, something came alive in her, something truthful, vulnerable, and determined. As Cassian watched her transform, something inside him began to change as well. She turned the mirror back on him, forced him to see how far afield he’d strayed. He had become so committed to the Rebellion that he’d forgotten how to listen to his conscience. He believed in the greater good, the cause as they called it, but he had allowed the ends to justify the means for too long. Jyn had not so gently nudged him back on course.

And he had begun to love her for that.

He hated that word.

Love painted a target, put everyone involved in jeopardy.

Plus, how could he love someone he hardly knew?

But ever since they met, Jyn was right alongside him, matching him step for step. Or perhaps he was trying to keep pace with her. He liked that about their friendship. She blazed her own trails; she didn’t need him, but she wanted him, sought his camaraderie, his advice, his laughter, and he did the same with her.

He couldn’t put a finger on how it happened. All he knew was that they trusted each other, had complete faith in each other, and treated each other with equal respect. He knew he could put his life in her hands and vice versa. Is that love? He wondered if there was a better word to describe his feelings for Jyn.

When had the shift from strangers to companions first started?

Perhaps on Jedha. He could have left her to die in Saw Gerrera’s hideout; he found Bodhi, who could have brought him to Galen Erso, negating the need for Jyn. But Cassian couldn’t leave her behind. In fact, he hadn’t been able to stop worrying about her the entire time he was trapped in that small, dark cell. After seeing Bodhi’s condition, Cassian worried Jyn might suffer a similar fate at Saw’s unpredictable hands.

Why had he cared?

Just days prior to meeting her he had shot his own contact in the back on the Ring of Kafrene. Why did he suddenly want to protect a resource with which he had no established history?

Cassian finally admitted it wasn’t all that sudden. He’d had his doubts about his own morality for a long time. The Rebellion had made a habit of asking him to kill, like it was an automatic given despite the toll it took on Cassian’s soul. The more lives he took, the more he thought of Clem and Maarva. Not that they would have opposed his joining the Rebellion; they both suffered cruelly at the Empire’s hand. But Cassian found himself thinking about what he wished life had been; something quiet and safe where Maarva and Clem laughed and were happy and grew old together. And every time he pulled the trigger on his blaster or sniper riffle, that dream slipped a little further away. By the time he’d met Jyn, he no longer had the refuge of daydreams. All he had was a waking nightmare that he desperately wanted to escape.

In Jedha’s holy quarter he watched a broken, angry young woman put her life at risk for a child she didn’t know. She took out an entire squad of stormtroopers with nothing but a truncheon—Cassian smiled at the memory. She fought desperately to save her father on Eadu. Then she faced death on Scarif, willing to give her life for something bigger than herself.

If that wasn’t worth loving, he finally decided, he didn’t know what was.

After Eadu. That’s where it changed.

They had been standing in the stolen ship as K-2 and Bodhi navigated them to safety. Jyn was frozen with shock, her clothes dripping with the acrid Eadu rain, staring at him from across the compartment. Cassian could feel her eyes on him even though his back was to her. Jyn’s rage was palpable; he understood it, but he was dealing with his own demons. She lit into him right there in front of the others, called him a murderer and a stormtrooper. He flared with anger, almost shouting in her face. They both had their righteous fury, their personal pain, their justifications. Even though he had been livid, he respected Jyn for giving him hell, and, more so, for not backing down when he gave it right back to her.

After that argument, he didn’t think she would ever forgive him, especially since his mission had been to kill her father. But somehow, she’d seen past her grief and judged him by his actions rather than his orders. Now that he knew her better, it didn’t surprise him that she’d forgiven him. Jyn was raised in battle and had an uncanny ability to sift through emotional detritus and get to the root of things. Ultimately, it made them closer, gave them an instant loyalty that could only be made through scorched egos.

When they arrived back on Yavin 4 Jyn still despised him. But when he’d backed her plan for Scarif and recruited a team of thirty soldiers willing to die by her side for the greater good, the anger fell away allowing them to finally understand each other. Up to that point Jyn and Cassian had been surviving their lives, moving from one moment to the next, never really landing anywhere stable. When Cassian leaned in and whispered, “Welcome home,” he wasn’t welcoming her to the Alliance, he was telling her that he was sticking with her all the way to the end. Jyn’s gentle smile proved she understood.

They set off for Scarif, ready to die together. The entire ordeal had been like a horrible dream, bluffing their way into the citadel tower, deeper and deeper into the belly of the beast until they crossed a point of no return. When K-2SO died, Cassian knew their fate had been sealed. His droid, his friend, was the latest in a long line of losses. It was the catalyst that forced him to let go of any hope for survival and allowed him to fully commit to their mission, no longer worrying about protecting himself. He would protect Jyn for as long as he could, giving her a running head start to transmit the plans.

Then he fell.

Hard.

Well, first Krennic shot him and then he fell, hitting two durasteel beams before smashing into a grated platform. He broke four ribs and fractured parts of his hip and left leg. He lay inside the databank for what felt like ages; the pain was delayed but when it came it overwhelmed him. As he fought to breathe, he was startled by a banging sound and realized her could hear Jyn climbing the tower. He also knew Krennic wouldn’t give up until he killed her. So, Cassian forced himself to move, dragged himself off the metal grate and into an access vault where he found the lift to the spire’s top. Adrenaline dulled his physical suffering just enough for him to reach the data dish platform in time to see Krennic, his blaster fixed on Jyn, standing between her and the transmitter. Cassian didn’t hesitate; he shot the bastard that had ruined his friend’s family, who had taken her childhood, her safety, her parents. He wasn’t about to give Krennic the chance to take Jyn too.

Cassian would never forget the look on Jyn’s face after she initiated the transmission, sending the Death Star plans into the chaotic battle above before stepping to his side and grasping his arm, relieved that he was still alive.

He remembered the anger that entered her eyes and roughly pulling her away as she lunged for Krennic, their foreheads touching as he said, “Leave it. Let’s go.” She had leaned into Cassian and allowed him to guide her away.

They got into the lift and headed down to the beach. The long ride was a momentary respite, an unexpected quiet fraught with emotion as Jyn and Cassian held on to each other. She had looked up at him with large, open eyes, an expression on her face he had never seen, as though no one had ever come back for her, as though she didn’t know what it was like to matter to another person. He tightened his grip as Jyn held him up; in that moment, nothing existed but her. All the pieces of his life fell into place; every heartbreak, every mistake, every victory culminated here in Jyn Erso’s arms. The understanding gave him calm. He wanted her to know that she mattered, that he cared, that he was with her.

When they made it to the beach, they saw the radioactive plume rising out of the ocean, recognizing the work of a planet killer. Their steps slowed as realization set in. Poetic, he had thought, to be killed by the very weapon we’re trying to destroy. They fell to their knees on the shoreline, watching certain death rushing head on. As Jyn had said, their chances were spent. They were both afraid. What would this death feel like? Would they even feel it at all? They wrapped their bodies around each other, together all the way to the end. Jyn tried not to sob. Cassian shook with fear, whispering, “I’ve got you,” in her ear over and over. Then, out of nowhere a ship dropped in over the water, the side hatch open with Baze and Chirrut visible inside. Jyn hauled Cassian up and they sprinted, dumping into the shuttle before the hatch slammed shut. The sudden relief made Jyn burst into tears while Cassian’s wounds finally got the better of him. The last thing he remembered was Jyn cupping his face in her hands, begging him to stay with her. He woke a week later in a hospital cot, in a long room lined up and down with injured men and women. Jyn was there, right by his side. And she stayed every day until he was able to walk again.

After Scarif’s intensity, Jyn and Cassian were closer than ever. But they had not yet been able to cross the barrier where that closeness dissolved a life’s-worth of fear.

As Cassian sat now, covered in his own blood in an imperial cell, he wondered, if he had the chance to do it all again, would he tell her? Would he have the courage to tell Jyn that she mattered to him, that he cared about her, that he was hers, if she wanted him, all the way to the end?

He looked down at himself, wrists raw from pulling at his binds, skin burned by shock cuffs, blood running down and dripping from his fingertips onto the floor. His reality, as Tarkin put it, was setting in. This cell and pain and blood was all he would know until he took his last breath. Jyn was out of reach forever. He had to accept that. Cassian closed his eyes against the tears that rose to the surface, forbidding them from spilling over and running down his face.

He knew what he should do, but after Jedha and Eadu and Scarif, Cassian Andor could never let go of Jyn Erso.

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END NOTES

NEXT CHAPTER IS CALLED “THE SALT" - Jyn is ready to launch her rescue mission but all she can do is think about Cassian. Tarkin has no more mercy for Cassian and uses a brutal tactic for personal gratification.

Thank you for reading!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very welcome!

Much love!

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READ IT ON AO3 - Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1 “The Razor”

READ CHAPTER 2 “The Scythe”

READ CHAPTER 3 “The Cold”

READ CHAPTER 4 “The Expendable”

READ CHAPTER 5 “The Truth”

READ CHAPTER 6 "The Detritus"

READ CHAPTER 7 “The Salt”

READ CHAPTER 8 “The Power”

READ CHAPTER 9 “The Betrayal”

READ CHAPTER 10 “The Ruse”

READ CHAPTER 11 "The Reprieve"

READ CHAPTER 12 “The Ghosts”

READ CHAPTER 13 “The Redemption”

READ CHAPTER 14 “The Spoils”

READ CHAPTER 15 “The Interrogation”

READ CHAPTER 16 "The Rogues"

READ CHAPTER 17 “The Absolution”

READ CHAPTER 18 “The Reach”

READ CHAPTER 19 “The Hologram”

READ CHAPTER 20 “The Divide”

READ CHAPTER 21 “The Cost”

READ CHAPTER 22 “The Fallout”

READ CHAPTER 23 “The Wounds”

READ CHAPTER 24 “The Hand”

#cassian #cassian andor #andor #jyn #jyn erso #jyn and cassian #cassian and jyn #rebelcaptain fic #rebelcaptain #cassian andor fic #cassian andor fanfiction #rogue one #rogue one fic #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one a star wars story #star wars whump #cassian whump #whump

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anxiouspineapple99 · 11 months

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WIP Wednesday

Guys I am so stoked for this WIP Wednesday because I’m working past that writers block finally!

From my Fives x f!reader x Echo one shot:

Echo’s eyes never left his datapad when he acknowledged you, “I can see you, cyar’ika. Your stealth needs some work.” Your only answer was a devious giggle. Once you were close enough, you dashed toward his bunk. You leapt at him with a shrill kerradak-like screech and landed behind him.You managed to clasp your right hand over his eyes as you crossed your left across his chest before he could grab you. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath while you pressed yourself against his back. Echo tried to suppress the gasp that left his lips before he laughed. You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear. Your warm breath tickled him as you whispered the oh so familiar line, “Hey. It’s me. Don’t be scared.” A dark laugh rumbled in Echo’s chest, “Oh is it? How can I be sure of that? I need some proof that it’s really you, princess.” Just as you’d done with Fives in the ‘fresher you slid yourself slowly over his shoulder, your chest pressed against his temple as you moved.

This is from the one shot I am working on about Avery, my Jedi OC

A fresh faced young padawan, only 20 years of age when the war began; one year in and she felt older than Master Yoda some days. Her ruminations were interrupted by the beeping of a lifesigns alert. Her heart lurched. A survivor. I have to get to him. She ran, her GAR standard issue medic bag swaying, the weight of it threatening to steal her balance in every hurried step. She ignored the gut wrenching splash of the bloody water being kicked up her legs and the sound of Krell’s voice demanding she come back. Then the screaming began. He was scared, in pain, alone, and screaming for his brothers. She slid to a stop and fell to her knees next to the clone, “Trooper! Trooper I’m here!” She gently removed his helmet. Her heart broke at the terror in his eyes. “It hurts! It hurts! Please help me! Help me! Oh by the Force it kriffing hurts!” He was just a shiny. She shushed him with the gentleness of a mother he never had, “Eyes on me, eyes on me. I’m here now.” She touched him with the Force and wanted to throw up. He wasn’t going to make it. She couldn’t save him.

NPT: @deejadabbles @wings-and-beskar @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @littlemissmanga @letsquestjess @isthereanechoinhere96 @commander-sunshine @dystopicjumpsuit @fives-girlfriend @wreckers-wife @blueink-bluesoul @the-bad-batch-baroness @commander-sunshine

#wip wednesday #wip update #wip fanfiction #writing wip #star wars #the bad batch #jedi oc #arc echo #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #star wars whump #anxiouspineapple99 writes

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spacemagicandlaserswords · 1 year

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Clone Whump Fic Recs

I have a migraine. It's a bad one. One of those ones that lasts for days and comes and goes in intensity from "I am actively being stabbed repeatedly" to "oh god I'm actually dying". It feels like there's an ice pick being driven through my skull while it's also simultaneously splitting apart. The medicine has done nothing. And so I must suffer.

If anyone has any good clone whump fic recs, I could really use them right now. Bonus points if the clone is comforting and caring for the reader. Extra bonus points if it's injury or pain related, rather than sick fic.

I'm already familiar with, and have read, the amazing work of @staycalmandhugaclone but if anyone has any other clone whump fic recs, I would really appreciate it.

Sorry if this is a tad inarticulate. My capacity to string words together right not is not exactly optimal I just typed optional instead of optimal dear god

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wild-lavender-rose · 2 years

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Call Me Hux

Pairing: Hux x reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You are Hux’s personal assistant. When you collapse one day from exhaustion, you expect to be put to death immediately. However, you are surprised to find that is Hux himself who takes care of you, revealing that his feelings towards you are not as cold as you once believed.

Warning: Description of severe exhaustion

You startled as the black office doors swished open and Hux stormed inside. “Where is that report I asked for, he’ll be here any moment.”

“On your desk sir.” You ran a hand through your hair, panicking when you realized that you hadn’t pulled it back into the regulatory style when you last got dressed. When was that exactly? Yesterday? The day before? It was all a blur.

Kylo had asked for a report that Hux had neglected to put together. He had pounced on you, demanding that you assist him. Not that you would have done anything else. You had been assigned to Hux as his personal assistant. Being pounced on, yelled at and threatened was part of the job.

For three straight days you had sat at your desk, combing through files, arranging the information, wording it to sound as if Hux had written it. You had drank little and eaten less, focused on meeting his deadline. An ache had settled in your muscles and your eyes constantly burned, but you had to keep working.

Hux crossed to his desk and began tapping the tablet that contained the report in question, the one you had finished just a few moments before his entrance. “Good, good.” He muttered, so soft you almost didn’t hear. “Very good.”

Your heart thrummed in your chest at the praise, followed soon after by a mental kick. He was referring to the contents of the report. He would never praise you. You were no better than a trooper to him, a programmed slave that obeyed his every command.

Your aching fingers carded through your hair as you fumbled to tie it into a succinct knot. “Shall I leave the room for your meeting, sir?”

“Yes, yes,” Hux made a motion as if to shoo you away. “And bring me a coffee when you return, I’ve been up all night worrying about this.”

“Yes sir.” You pushed your chair back and stood, only to grab the desk with a soft gasp.

Hux looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You lied, setting your jaw as you forced your cramped, trembling legs to hold your weight. It hurt terribly. When was the last time you had stood up?

You didn’t look at Hux as you slowly walked out of the office, cringing at the sense of his dark blue eyes stabbing through you from behind. If Hux were to see the effects his commands had on you he would order you killed on the spot. You were certain of it. He had done terrible things to past assistants. You were just one in a long line. You had to keep going, even though your stomach churned at the thought. Keep going or die on the spot.

# # # # #

Every step was painful. Your head pounded with an ache that was only growing worse. Your eyes watered from the white hot burning sensation you couldn’t get rid of, no matter how many times you rubbed them. Your muscles hurt and your stomach was a wreck. You stood by Hux’s desk, tablet in hand, fingers dancing across the screen as he rattled off tasks for the rest of the day. When was your shift going to end? You had lost track of time, of thought, of anything. It was taking all your strength just to keep your eyes open.

“And I want to confirm with the helmsman that we will be inputting the necessary course adjustments to avoid the Garnok system, as well as maintaining our ETA to the station. Also you need to draft a letter of recommendation for the head of weapons, he did quite well during our disagreement with-.”

The tablet slipped from your fingers and fell to the floor. Hux stopped. You jerked and stumbled backwards. “Sorry sir, excuse me,” You got to your knees to retrieve the tablet.

“Clumsy fool.” Hux growled. “You’ve been dropping things all morning.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t,” You got to your feet quickly and regretted it. The movement caused your vision to swim and your head to pound. You took another step back and bumped into your desk, breathing faster as you fought for control. The tablet fell once more.

“I didn’t, sir it’s just, I’m fine,” you tried your best to nod. “I’m fine.”

With a final desperate surge of energy you pushed off the desk and stood up. Only to collapse to the floor and have all your thoughts go black.

# # # # #

The first sound you heard was water trickling next to you. Your body felt heavy, and the ache in your head and burn in your eyes hadn’t gone away. Your fingers curled around soft silk sheets, a stark difference to the rough, starched regulation sheets you were used to. You were definitely not in your own quarters, nor where you in the infirmary. You shifted your head and winced, groaning at the pain.

“Keep your eyes closed.” The voice was familiar, however you had never heard it sound so gentle. “The medication should take affect soon, but your eyes will still be weak.”

“Wha-…What?” You opened your eyes despite his warnings and cringed, the low light of the foreign quarters you were in enough to cause intense pain.

The trickling water stopped. “Close your eyes.” A hand pressed over your eyes to close them.

Your heart stuttered as the warmth of his hand soothed the raging ache. “General,” you wanted so desperately to resist, to fight. But the effects of your exhaustion had reduced you down to a helpless mess, allowing the warmth of a hand that would most certainly kill you lull your pain.

“Easy, easy now. Rest.” Hux increased the pressure against your eyes, the warmth and enforced darkness enough to send you right back into the blank darkness of sleep.

# # # # #

You woke to a hand slipping under your aching neck and angling your head up. “Wake up. Wake up, you need to drink.”

You gave a soft moan. “No,” your brow furrowed, keeping your eyes closed. “Just a dream.”

Hux’s voice had a touch of indignation. “This is not a dream.” He shifted your head up further. “Here, drink.”

The cool rim of a glass pressed against your lips. You opened your mouth and drank eagerly, whimpering when Hux responded by pulling back. “Slowly, darling.” He whispered. “Slowly.”

This was most certainly a dream. Never had you been called darling, or anything other than your name for that matter. Hux would never call you darling, it was just a dream.

You finished drinking and Hux lowered your head back to the pillow. “It’s…I must be dying.” You murmured, throat growing hot and tight at the thought. “The general would never…Hates me cause I can’t…can’t do anything right.” A tear slipped down your cheek. “Gonna kill me.”

“Hush,” Hux brushed his fingers through your hair and wiped away your tear. “There is no need to fear...Perhaps the general is hard on you…because he does not wish for the others to know that he cares for you.”

The concept washed over you, strange and new. “He…He can’t. I’m no one.”

“You’re everything.” He whispered. “I…I shouldn’t have ordered you to put that report together alone. I apologize.”

“The report!” You opened your eyes and tried to sit up. “Gotta, gotta get that report done, he’ll be in trouble if I don’t, I can’t let him get in trouble,”

“Easy, easy. The report is finished, lie still,” Hux’s hands were on you, easing you back onto the bed and holding you there as you squirmed. “It’s finished, darling, now you must rest. Please.”

“But I can’t lose him.” Another tear ran down your cheek. “Please, I can’t lose Hux. Don’t know…don’t know who I’d go to next. What if they’re worse? What if they…they,”

“No one else is going to have you, I promise. You’re mine and mine alone.” Hux’s breath fanned over your face as your eyes closed and his grip relaxed. “I should have…perhaps if I had been kinder,”

You whimpered and reached up, gripping his uniform sleeve. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Never. I will never leave you.” His hand found yours, fingers interlocking. “I promise.”

# # # # #

You woke feeling more clear headed than you had felt since before the report. Your vision was normal and your head had nothing more than a dull ache. You blinked a couple times and looked around, gaze falling on a sight that made your heart stutter.

Hux was asleep in the chair by the bed, red hair ruffled and falling in his eyes, his hand still holding yours. You thought it had all been a dream, a hallucination. But it was real.

You squeezed his hand gently, uncertainly. Hux stirred, blue eyes blinking sleepily before meeting your gaze.

“Good morning,” he whispered, releasing your hand so that he could straighten and stretch his arms over his head. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s...It’s real.”

“Yes,” a faint smile crossed his pale face. “Very real.”

“You care for me?”

“With every part of my being.” Hux reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your eyes. “I should never have treated you the way I did, I’m so sorry darling,”

“I can’t...I can’t believe.” You sat up in bed. “Can I...can I touch you?”

Hux’s eyes sparkled in a way you had never seen before but made your heart give an unexpected flutter. “Yes.” He breathed.

You reached out slowly, carding your fingers through his hair. Hux closed his eyes and tilted back into your hand, sighing as if he had been holding his breath for hours. You repeated the motion, marveling at the way his shoulders relaxed under your touch. “I...I’ve never cared for someone before.”

“Neither have I.” Hux’s eyes opened, reaching up to pull your hand away and press kisses along your knuckles. “Will you...Would you like to learn how together?”

You nodded with a slow smile. “Yes sir, I think I would.”

“Call me Hux, darling.”

“Yes I would...Hux.”

Fanfic Masterlist

#Hux #star wars hux #hux x reader #hux x you #general hux x reader #hux x y/n #star wars general hux #general hux #general hux x y/n #general hux x you #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars hurt comfort #star wars whump #star wars fandom

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whumpofalltime · 10 months

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What stands out as the Whump Of All Time? Only you can decide!

While you're welcome to vote for your favorite, your mutual's favorite, or on vibes alone, we encourage you to check out the propaganda and links below the cut - it's a great way to discover new content.

Our inbox is open for propaganda until the poll closes!

ESB:

(attack video, rescue)

"Luke gets attacked by a yeti-like creature, strung up by his boots, is barely conscious when rescued, and in one of the grossest but most inspired wilderness medical choices ever caught on film, poor Han Solo puts him inside of a recently-expired tauntaun to keep him warm."

ROTK:

(spider attack, rescue)

"The Lord of The Rings, when Frodo gets bitten by a giant spider and left for dead by Sam at the end of The Two Towers, and then when Sam finds him in The Return of the King being held prisoner and whipped by an orc"

#I seeded these it's pure coincidence that these two ended up against each other #star wars #star wars whump #return of the king #frodo #lord of the rings #luke skywalker

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madpencil · 1 year

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Febuwhump 2023

Day 10: Difficultly Breathing

Title: Save Them

Words: 673

Characters: Tech, Omega, Hunter, Echo, Wrecker (Star Wars: The Bad Batch)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was getting harder to breathe on the Havoc Marauder. They had escaped the empire again but not without damages. The life support system was the most dangerous one. It wasn't inoperational, but it was getting there. The air was thin and it was growing colder by the minute.

Tech worked on the system with caution while Wrecker worked on a few other things. Omega and Echo did their best to assist where they could. Hunter was keeping the systems they needed on and diverting power where he could to help their case.

"How's it going Tech." Hunter questioned.

"I should be finished within the hour."

They both spoke with a breathlessness in their voice. They were all starting to feel lightheaded. Sure the adults had fought on planets where the air was thinner than they were used too but this was far more severe. The lights were dim and they used flashlights to see.

Omega found it hard to stay awake as she passed tech a wrench. The girl was dizzy. She tried to keep her breaths short so she didn't use too much oxygen. Her vision started to blur and she fell back a little. All eyes turned to her in concern.

"I'm alright." Omega smiled weakly. Her body language told them all a different story. After she sat up again she was slouched and slightly swaying. Wordlessly Hunter stood and walked to her. He picked her up and started to carry her to her room. His little sister tried to protest but gave in as Hunter lay her down. The mercenary turned to look back at the batch with slightly furrowed brows. Then he stepped to Tech and started to be his assistant.

Little time pasted before the others started to sway. One called to Omega with no reply. Echo stood and moved to check on her with heavy steps. She had passed out because of the lack of oxygen.

"We need... to hurry." Their question was answered for them. All they could do was hope they'd make it in time. Their little sister was breathing for now so they had a little time.

They ran out of time very quickly. An alarm started blaring throughout the ship. None of them could breathe as they realized what happened. The system had finally failed. They were lucky a different system kept the void of space from getting in and immediately killing them.

Tech wouldn't let it end this way. He was almost finished. All he had to do now was finish hooking up wires and reset the system. After a moment he heard a thud and found Wrecker on the floor. A moment later Hunter fell. After that was Echo. He knew he'd be next. Two more wires Tech. He could do it. He connected the blue wire to its other half. One more. The red wire just needed to be plugged back into the board. The man grabbed it haphazardly and brought it to the board. It slid in with ease. Reset it. For them.

The switch was above him. The brother summoned all his strength and pushed himself up to the button. He felt his finger hit something before crashing to the floor. Had he done it? Please let him have done it.

The last one to fall was the first to wake. He groaned and shifted on the floor. There was no alarm so that was a good sign. Slowly the man sat up criss cross on the floor. Then he crawled over to the others and checked on them. They'd be okay. Tech breathed a sigh of relief. They were okay. With caution he stood and went to check on Omega. She was okay too. He strode towards his chair, proud of his accomplishment.

The rest of the batch awoke within a few minutes and he checked them over to make sure they weren't hurt. They thanked him and Tech shook it off. It was no big deal. They were okay, so that was all he needed.

#febuwhump #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch whump #fanfic #fanfiction #febuwhump 2023 #star wars whump #star wars x febuwhump #star wars: the bad batch #tbb #febuwhumpday10 #difficulty breathing #tbb tech #omega the bad batch #bad batch whump #the bad batch echo #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #febuwhump2023

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jedi-lothwolf · 1 month

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Familiar chapter one

Fandom: The Bad Batch

Summary: Pabu was eerily familiar to CX-2. Clone Force 99 felt like someone to him. Why they mattered, he couldn't remember.

Notes: Spoilers for the episode Point of No Return

Chapter two: Research of the Past (coming soon)

Why was Pabu so, familiar? That was the only question going through CX-2's head. It felt like he should care about it and its people; like somewhere deep down, he didn't want to be there to hurt someone.

Still, he was there to find the target. A girl named Omega was an m-count target, so he had to take her to Tantus. It shouldn't feel so wrong. Just like fighting Ct-9904 shouldn't have felt like a betrayal to himself.

Seeing the pirate was already so eerily familiar. Being in her presence made him smile and he felt warm. Her sweet but sassy voice, her beautiful hair, they seemed like they meant something to him. Maybe they had.

CX-2' stood on the wall that separated lower and upper Pabu. There, near the water, was the Havoc Marauder. It was the ship that the group of rogue clones flew and from the information that the man had, lived out of. It was a modified Omicron-class attack shuttle. Ct-9902 had made the changes to the ship.

Maybe there was a reason CX-2 hesitated to shoot the ship. By the ramp, Ct-9903 stood. The man had been named Wrecker, which fit him well. There was something unsettling about the thought of him blowing up, like he had personal feelings about. Maybe that was why he shot the ship's wing where he did.

It was easy to see and it wasn't in his blind spot. Seeing him notice the explosive and grab the power droid and jump away from his home, made blowing the ship up slightly easier. It shouldn't have.

Why was he so reluctant to hurt them? Clone Force 99 were traitors. The Bad Batch had killed imperial soldiers and officers, they had destroyed the empires properly. Killing them, would be good for the galaxy, yet CX-2 hesitated to do so.

So he walked away. Finding Omega was his mission. Destroying the Marauder was to ensure they stayed on the planet. Making the call to be ready to burn the island and its people to the ground, was not one he had wanted to make.

There was a place near the top of the mountain. Maybe, CX-2 thought, I should go up there. Maybe the girl would be there.

The leaves of the tree that stood on the platform swayed. It was a beautiful and proud Weeping Maya Tree. Near the top of the mountain was a communal space. Walking inside, the man looked around for the target. The room was filled with artifacts.

A jade tree sat on a shelf that almost made him smile. Shaking it off, his eyes scanned the shelves and landed on a stuffed Tooka doll and a pair of shattered goggles.

CX-2 took a step back. Then he walked towards the shelf. With much kinder hands than he had been treated with, he picked up the goggles and stared at them. The weight of the glasses in his hands was uncomfortably familiar.

Startled, he laid them back down. Looking at the doll, CX-2's breath started to catch and tears welled in his eyes. The name of the Tooka was on the top of his tongue and he knew it shouldn't be.

When he woke up, Hemlock had told him who he was didn't matter. He had said that he had been an imperial soldier who had amnesia from his last mission. When he asked what his name was, he was told it was CX-2. Something always felt wrong about that.

Removing his helmet, CX-2 placed it beside the googles. Picking up the stuffed toy, he pulled it closer to him. "L-" her name was the only thing he could think about. With his mission long forgotten, he tried to piece the rest of the tooka's name together.

"Lula?"

The room was silent. The lighting was warmer than he had remembered and all the noise of the outside had disappeared. Without the helmet, everything was blurry. However it felt like CX-2 could see clearer than he had remembered.

The reason he hated the thought of hurting Clone Force 99, the reason he knew Lula's name, the reason the pira- liberator of ancient wonders was important to him; he had known them. The people had been something to him at some point in his life. But who were they?

CX-2 needed to know. Still holding Lula, he stood there overwhelmed by his discovery. As his breathing continued to speed up, he sat on the floor. Clutching the doll he tried to think. Where did he go from here?

The man could go back to the empire and complete him mission or he could lie and say that he had made a mistake, leave, and escape come his next assignment. Staying and fighting for the empire meant he would likely never get his answers. However, staying with them also meant he would survive.

Standing, the man set Lula down next to the googles. Clearing the tears from his face, he placed him helmet back on his head and reached from his comm. Then he let his hand fall back to his side. If someone had already found her and he told them she wasn't on the island, he'd be killed for treason.

Finding Omega became his next objective. While that may have already been his mission, now he only intended to keep her safe. Leaving the building, CX-2 sighed. In truth he was scared. He knew what Hemlock could and would do to him if he was caught.

But he needed to know who he was. Learning who these people were to him meant betraying what he knew. Committing an act of treason didn't hurt as much as he thought it would.

Walking though the streets of Pabu, he ordered the flame throwers to be put down. There was no need just yet to burn down the island.

Almost twenty minutes later, CX-2 found the girl. She stood in the middle of the street, ready to give herself up for the safety of the people. Before she got a chance to give herself away, the clone grabbed her and pulled her away from the street. "Shhhh."

Confused Omega was silent.

"You are an adolescent. I am going to inform the others that I was mistaken in identifying you. Stay hidden."

"What?" Was all Omega could think of saying.

"You are a child, I will not subject you to the experiments of Tantiss. You will be safe here once I'm through with my tasks."

Taking the alley, Omega asked "where is it?"

"What?"

"Tantiss. I need to know."

"Where Tantiss is, is of no concern to you. I need you to stay hidden."

Ignoring him, Omega asked again. "I'll walk into the street and give myself up right now. If you really want to keep me safe, you'll tell me."

"One day you will know. Currently, it is safer this way. Accept the opportunity that it being given to you. It is not the time."

"Then when is?"

"When you have a plan."

"I have a plan! I-"

"Is it a good one?"

Omega was silent. "Fine."

"Find a place to hide."

The girl nodded. While she was sceptical of the sleeper agent's intentions, at least Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair wouldn't be so worried.

Walking away, CX-2 reached for his comm. "I had mistaken a similar looking civilian for the girl. The target is not here." He sighed. "Gather your men and be ready to leave."

"Yes sir."

Hoping this risk would pay off, the man pondered what answers The Bad Batch could have for him. Soon, he would have his answer. Maybe while he waited for his next mission, he should do most digging into who these people really are.

#star wars #star wars whump #whump #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #tech the bad batch #tech x phee #tech whump #tech bad batch #CX-2 #cx 2 #the bad batch tech #post point of no return #tech is CX-2 #at least in this fic #tbb #tbb Pabu #Pabu #pabu tbb

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whump-is-love-whump-is-life · 6 months

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i was actually going for specific (whoops) but general is good too :)

Ahhh I wondered!

Honestly I don’t read or write much comfort (my current fic welllll— let’s just say the closest thing to comfort was a quick death)

But this fic is SO GOOD

Fandom is Star Wars Rebels and it is the second of a series (Mirrorverse) so it would be good to read the first part first but it is genuinely some of the most well written whump/whump aftermath I’ve ever read!

Mind the tags as there could be something triggering but I will always recommend this fic/series

#the author is on here too #tarisilmarwen I believe #asks #thanks for the ask!!#whump #whump recs #fanfiction recs #fic recs #star wars fanfiction #star wars rebels #star wars whump #my posts

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tantive404 · 1 year

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In the Hands of the Enemy: Tarkin/Leia darkfic

CW: noncon elements; creepy, obsessive Tarkin

Summary: At last, Tarkin has Princess Leia right where he wants her...

Caught and imprisoned in the Death Star, it seems the proud rebel is his at last, to tease and to torture...

But Vader finds himself disagreeing with the Governor's methods. Why does the young Organa seem so familiar? And why is he suddenly so protective of this... traitor?

Relying only on her wits and strength, Leia is unsure what to make of the ordeal, but she knows one thing...

For a rebel spy to have drawn the pointed attentions of two of the Empire's most powerful men, it can never mean anything good. ✨ ✨ ✨

" She glared at him– her gaze ice cold– refusing to be intimidated.

'Tyranny,' Tarkin repeated, softly touching the Princess’s cheek, 'what a charming little epitaph… But tell me, my dear— what is it that you would prefer? How are the masses to be kept in line, without the firm hand of a so-called tyrant?'

Oh, how she seethed– how she must burn – to see her foolish ideals called into question. (And when they at last crumbled, he would rebuild her in the image he saw fit.)

'Fear,' she declared, 'will never deter those who are fighting to stop you, Governor. We are not animals who can simply be beaten into submission.'

Tarkin merely smiled at her– a chilling gesture. How he longed to touch and tease the young, foolish girl– the way her cheeks flushed with passion and rage–

A stray lock of dark, brunette hair fell loose from those neatly coiled braids. Tarkin reached out and tucked it behind her ear.

(The urge to tug, to pull, on those long, thick tresses suddenly appeared in the Governor’s mind. Such a forbidden fruit. A warm little body, pressed so tightly to his…

Alone. In his offices. He could have her right now, if he so wished.

Hmm. Perhaps… )

'You are terribly naive, Your Highness,' Tarkin remarked. 'Consider– throughout the galaxy; through all forms of life. Who are the ones that hold the power? The prey, or the predators?' "

#tarkin x leia #villain x heroine #fanfic #wilhuff tarkin #leia organa #darth vader #willeia #leia and vader #star wars whump #star wars fanfiction #self promotion #cw noncon #darkfic #rarepair #problematic ships

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leuchtstabrebell · 8 months

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Whumptober Day 10/ Altprompt: Shaking

The door closed behind them. Silence descended upon them, broken only by the sound of the damaged respirator. Bail still did not know what was going on. Without warning, Vader started walking down the hallway, his steps as big and sure as usual. Luke und Leia quickly matched his pace, leaving Mon and Bail to try and keep up with them.

“Did Leia say something to you?” he asked Mon quietly.

“Only that I really needed to come with her, and that it was important, and that I should not, under any circumstance, leave without her. I assume Luke did not provide an explanation either?”

Bail shook his head. “I thought that it might have something to do with Vader, and I guess I was right. But I still don’t understand.” Why are they so protective of him, when he always throws them to Palpatine to be gutted? And why was he hurt anyway? And why did Palpatine not do anything sooner? What did Vader do to them to make them like this?

“If you still want that medical care, Lord Vader, my office is in the opposite direction,” Mon told Vader and the children.

“We are not going to your office, Senator Mothma” he rumbled. His voice still sounded strange and raw.

“Father,” Leia said.

“We will go to my office. It is closer anyway.”

“Father, let me–“ Luke said, and tried to touch Vader. In the bright hallways, the blood on his suit shimmered. It was not even completely dry yet, Bail realized. Vader flinched away violently.

The action was so out of place for the man that Bail for a moment could not comprehend it.

Neither Leia nor Luke said anything, but they did share several meaningful looks, as Vader marched on before them.

Vader’s office had always occupied a strange place in the senate. Its function was vague, probably meant to intimidate the senators but even at that it was not successful. It was a rare occurrence for Vader to actually be in his office, and even rarer for him to do any sort of diplomatic work. Bail believed that, at this point, Luke and Leia, though still young, were already doing more diplomatic work than Vader himself. He was not sure if he was even capable of the subtlety or conversational skills necessary. Still, even the presence of the Palpatine’s guard dog was enough to tighten the political control of the Emperor. Bail could see it in the way everyone they encountered hurried past them or took a different route, how they fell silent, how their eyes followed them. They probably thought that Mon and Bail were being led to their execution. They were wrong, of course. Or at least Bail hoped so.

The door to Vader’s office was closed when they arrived. Bail waited for Vader to open the door – it was the usual lock of most doors of the Senate building, they all had universal keys to it – but nothing happened. Well, Vader swayed slightly from side to side but made no effort to actually open the door. It was a strange sight.

Leia paused, looked at her father, the door, and then back at Vader. “Really?” she asked, then shook her head und said something under her breath. She grabbed her own keychain and opened the door.

She walked in first, then followed Vader and Luke. Finally, Bail and Mon entered as well, and she closed the door behind them. Bail wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen this space from the inside before. Everything was white and sterile, with black and grey accents. It was the standard unit for all Senate offices but devoid of any memorabilia or any other indication of personality. The whole space struck Bail as somehow sad.

Vader made a strange gesture with his hand, a sort of twisting motion, and then sat down in the nearest chair. “Why did you bring them?” he said with open hostility, inclining his head in their direction.

“I��ll make some tea,” Luke said, as if he hadn’t heard Vader speak. Leia ignored him as well. “Make yourselves comfortable, Senators” she said and pointed to the standard chairs and benches.

“And I assume he isn’t listening, is he?” she asked her father, mimicking his strange gesture.

“No,” he answered. With his answer, the atmosphere seemed to change. Luke huffed and then went to the small nearby kitchen space. Vader, on the other hand, started shaking. At first, Bail did not really see it, still standing in the entrance of the room but once he and Mom followed Leia’s invitation, he could see the tiny tremors running through Vader.

“What were you thinking? Do you know what he’s going to do?” Vader asked. Bail noted that there was a slight hint of an outer rim accent in his voice now. Interesting.

“Don’t you dare say we were in the wrong. It was bad this time. Really bad,” Leia said.

Vader hesitated. “It’s been much worse before. Why did you think dragging high ranking Senators into this whole mess would help?”

“Take off that damn thing,” Leia hissed. “I want to talk to my Father, not to Lord Vader.”

Bail held his breath in anticipation. In the background, Luke was rummaging through the kitchen.

And then, Vader took of his mask. His face was pale and scarred, but there were also fresh wounds, like from a sharp knife, around his mouth and eyes. For a moment, they all just stared. Bail could see the outline of the man Vader had once been underneath.

“I’m waiting,” Vader rasped.

“You don’t understand. It’s been three days and he wouldn’t let us see you. You’d completely closed us out. We tried to help you, but he wouldn’t let us come,” Leia swallowed heavily. “And I kept thinking, this time he’ll kill him. I know it, this time he’ll do it. So we had to show someone Palpatine actually did not want to know. Whatever you did, it must have really displeased him.” While she spoke, Leia had become more and more agitated. She was now pacing the room. Shocked, Bail realized that she was holding back tears.

Meanwhile, Luke had arrived with the cups of tea he had prepared. He was much more composed, but his hands were shaking as well as he set down his tray.

“What I did?” Vader laughed, a horrible, ugly-sick sound. “I killed someone. Go figure, usually he likes it when I do that. Apparently not if it targets the right people for once. I’d found out one of the Moffs had been profiting from human trafficking. I caught him sampling the goods.”

“What,” Bail says, no longer able to hold himself back. Three pairs of eyes turn to them, as if they had forgotten that they were still there.

“Slavery, Senator Organa,” Leia says, as if that had been the most shocking part of the whole thing. For some reason, Leia’s comment made both Luke and Vader huff out a wry laugh.

“I don’t know how he found out. It was supposed to be an unlucky accident,” Vader says.

“But I wouldn’t have died. He can’t lose me yet. Still too valuable. This was just plain stupid, and you both know it. Do you think I’ll be able to protect you tomorrow? Wasn’t last month enough? You’re adults now, you think he’ll care about your pain? Huh?” Vader had gotten louder, and it sounded strange with his raw and wheezing voice.

The siblings looked down to the ground. Vader sighed. “Still, I appreciate your efforts to protect me, however misguided they were.” Then he turned towards Bail and Mon.

“Well. I suppose you’ll have some questions.”

#Whumptober2023 #No.10 #shaking #altprompt #Star Wars #fic #slavery #blood #Vader raises the kids AU #this does not make much sense even with context i guess #oh well #Star wars whump

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mostthingskenobi · 7 months

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CASSIAN'S RECKONING - Chapter 12: The Ghosts

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Rogue One may have rescued Cassian but he's not out of the woods.

The piece of art above is a preview. I commissioned 5 illustrations for this fic from @amikoroyaiart and you can see the first 3 on my Patreon.

READ THE FIC ON AO3

THIS IS A WHUMPY FIC W/GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE. PLEASE HEED THE TAGS ON AO3.

——————–

CHAPTER 12: THE GHOSTS

As the Lambda shuttle dropped out of hyperspace, Rogue One was greeted by a familiar ship floating in a vast nothingness. Their rendezvous with the Ghost took place in a remote part of the cosmos near neither planet nor space station. They transferred to the starship through an umbilical, leaving the imperial vessel—along with its tracking beacon—powered down and floating aimlessly.

Jyn and Melshi struggled to support Cassian as they entered the Ghost’s cargo bay. Hera greeted them, taking in Andor’s dire state. She retracted the umbilical and shouted into her commlink, “Chop, get us out of here.” She pointed at Baze, Chirrut, and Bodhi. “You three head up to our crew quarters. You can grab blankets and water for Cassian.” She turned to Jyn next. “I would offer to put him in one of our bunks but I don’t think he can make it up the ladder.”

Erso nodded her agreement.

“I need to speak with you,” Hera said, lowering her voice.

Jyn and Melshi eased Cassian to the ship’s deck before she stepped to the corner with the general. “We can’t go back to Yavin,” Hera began.

“Why? What’s happened?”

“I just got word from base of an immanent threat. The Death Star has arrived in orbit over the moon. Our fighters will be engaging shortly, but even if they succeed in defeating the weapon, the base location has been compromised.”

“What about Cassian?” Jyn fought to tamp down the panic rising in her throat. “You can see he clearly needs help now.”

“They’re scrambling the fleet. I’ve secured us a rendezvous with the Nebulon-B frigate Redemption. We have to hurry because they’ll only wait for a short window of time. The fleet is going to have to constantly keep moving until we find a new base location.” Hera looked over her shoulder at Cassian who sat slumped against Melshi. “He looks bad.”

“They were ruthless,” Jyn replied grimly.

Hera placed a hand on her arm. “Don’t worry. The Redemption has a full medical set up. They’ll be able to help him.”

“If he survives the flight back.”

“We have to keep hope.”

Rebellions are built on hope. It felt like years since Cassian first said that to her. She’d almost scoffed in his face at the time. But now, it was the mantra that kept her going.

“I’ll be in the cockpit,” Hera said. “If you need anything, there’s a comm on the wall or you can just come up.”

“Thank you. For everything. None of this could have happened without you.”

Hera couldn’t hold back a smile. “I’m sure you still would have found a way.” She turned and climbed up the ladder out of the cargo bay.

Jyn went and knelt next to Melshi.

“I don’t feel so good,” Cassian murmured.

“We’ll be home soon.” Jyn could have sworn his bruises looked darker. “They’ll get you fixed up. You can have a nice, long rest. You’ll be safe there.”

Cassian nodded weakly, his chest lifting heavily as he tried to stay lucid.

“Do you want to lay down?”

“Maybe.”

“You need to try to stay awake, though,” Melshi cautioned.

Cassian’s head fell back against the bulkhead, no longer able to hold it up. “I’m awake.” His body visibly shuddered as he struggled for another rasping breath. “It’s so cold in here.”

Jyn and Melshi shared a concerned look. “I’ll go find a med kit,” the sergeant said, pushing up and hurrying out of the cargo bay.

Cassian’s teeth began to chatter. “I’m freezing.”

Fear gripped Jyn; she’d seen enough men die to know this was the beginning of the end. “Cassian,” she said firmly. Her tone startled him and his eyes slowly pulled open. “Don’t let go,” she commanded.

His gaze became dull and he began to slide down the wall. She caught him by the shoulder and eased him to the floor before ripping off her vest and stuffing it under his head. “Help is coming.” She tried to stay calm but all of this was too familiar. They’d been here once before, Cassian dying on a ship’s floor while Jyn frantically tried to save him. “We’re not doing this again.” Her voice broke. She cradled his face in her hands and leaned over him. “Cassian!” He was declining quickly, his breath weak and his eyes rolling, but he reached up and took hold of her wrist. She put her cheek against his. “Stay with me,” she whispered as tears stung her eyes and slipped from her lashes onto his skin.

His other hand weakly grasped the back of her shirt at the base of her neck as he nuzzled against her. “I’m with you, Jyn,” he breathed before going completely limp.

——————–

The phantom trail of Jyn’s tears still tickled across his cheek; the feeling of her fingers against his skin was still alive; but he found himself alone. Cassian opened his eyes and once again saw swaying, beautiful, verdant branches of an ancient, silent forest. Slowly, he sat up, still stiff from Tarkin’s abuse. He noticed his hands were cut and bleeding, his wrists raw, but the pain was gone.

Carefully, he got to his feet and looked around, taking in every detail. He could tell the tree line ended somewhere far off in the distance, and beyond lingered a tease of sunlight and warmth. Where he stood, the grass was lush and the tree canopy high, vaulting like a natural temple. The breeze gently tousled the hair around his eyes and smelled of something green and fresh.

“I was worried you’d be back.”

Cassian spun around, and what he saw cause his breath to hitch. His mother and father stood between two arched trees, their expressions more relaxed and gentler than he’d ever seen. His mouth fell open, unable to find words to express his heartache and joy as he stared dumbly at the two people he grieved most.

“You’ve had a hard time of it,” Maarva finally spoke, gesturing at his still bleeding face. “Harder than I think we’ll ever fully know.”

“Perhaps that’s why he’s here,” Clem said, leading Maarva forward a few steps.

Cassian wanted to go to them, to hug them, but he was afraid any movement could break the spell. He stood frozen in place as emotions pushed to the surface. “Dad?”

“My boy.” Clem’s voice was soft and kind, fully aware that he and his son last looked on each other during a moment so horrific neither dared speak of it.

Tears slipped down Cassian’s face. His gaze shifted to his mother. “Are you both safe here?”

She looked pained by her son’s worry. “There’s nothing to harm any of us.”

“But you can’t stay,” Clem said very gently.

Cassian knew in his heart it was the truth but he didn’t want to accept it; he could sense that he didn’t belong in this place—a feeling he lived with for as long as he could remember. “I want to stay with you.”

Maarva’s chest heaved as though she were holding back a sob. “You’ve been through a lot of strife but you have a good heart, Cass. We want to let you rest, but this isn’t your time.”

“And,” Clem said with a loving smile, “unless I’m mistaken, you still have some unfinished business.”

Cassian thought of almond-shaped eyes and dirty combat boots and a woman with so much fire in her heart she could burn everyone around her.

“Look at him!” Maarva startled Cassian from his reverie. “He’s healing!”

He looked down and saw his fingers were no longer crooked and bruised. He touched his face and realized the cuts had turned into thin scars.

“Not long now,” Clem nodded.

Cassian stared at his parents, trying to imprint their faces on his memory. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said, tears still burning his eyes. “I miss you. I think about you all the time.”

They came as close as they could without touching. “You’re a good boy,” Maarva said, fighting her emotions.

“He’s a good man now, love,” Clem teased his wife. Cassian had forgotten how comforting his father was, how his eyes twinkled and his smile calmed those around him. “We’re not going anywhere, Cass.”

Clem wrapped an arm around Maarva, who gave one stiff nod before saying, “We’ll be here when the time is right. Do your best.”

“Remember,” his father said, “eyes open. Possibilities everywhere.”

His heart ached but Cassian smiled. Losing his parents was a pain he could not put down. Though Clem and Maarva were not his biological family, they had loved him as no one else in the galaxy had loved him. And he loved them, loved their quirks, their flaws, their passions. He knew he hadn’t always been a good son, but they loved him anyway; they loved him because, unlike so many of his other relationships, his connection with his mother and father was unconditional. He never doubted them.

“I love you.”

“I know, my boy,” Maarva finally smiled.

Clem gave him one final nod then said, “It’s time to wake up.”

——————–

Jyn had watched as tears slowly formed on Cassian’s eyelashes and slipped down his temples while he slept. She chewed her lip with anxiety, unable to help him while he silently suffered.

Hours passed before his eyes unexpectedly opened; she moved to his side, taking his hand in hers.

“Where am I?” he asked, his vision unfocused and disoriented, not seeing her or the room beyond.

“You’re on the Redemption. It’s an Alliance frigate.”

He blinked hard, unable to see past his tears, so Jyn gently wiped his lashes with her thumbs. Cassian finally looked at her. “Jyn,” he breathed with relief.

She sat next to him on the bed and placed a hand on his chest, trying to calm him. “Everything’s OK. You’re safe. You’re healing.”

He was shuddering with emotion as he closed his eyes against more tears.

“What is it, Cassian?” Jyn’s voice betrayed her worry. “Are you in pain? Do you want me to get the doctor?”

He reached up and set his hand over hers in the middle of his chest and just breathed for a long time.

“I saw my parents,” he finally said.

Worry flashed through Jyn. Many rotations ago, Cassian and she had once spent a long night drinking strong still alcohol, telling each other about their parents, eventually both crying so hard they ended up laughing—a testament to grief’s strangeness. She knew losing his mother and father had caused a deep fracture in Cassian’s heart.

“That’s good,” she said, gently squeezing his shoulder with her other hand, concealing her fear. “That’s really good.”

He stared blankly at the ceiling as more tears welled in his eyes. “They’re together now.”

Jyn swallowed her own emotions, biting down hard on her lip. She wasn’t sure what any of this meant; part of it scared her; the surgeons had said Cassian was not yet out of the woods. She feared a visitation from deceased parents did not bode well for her friend, but she dared not voice her concern. Instead, she asked, “What did they tell you?”

His eyes began to roll back in his head as his eyelids drooped. He was desperately exhausted and still heavily drugged. “They said,” he mumbled, “that I have unfinished business.” He barely got the last word out before he lost consciousness again.

Jyn looked down at him, taking in every detail; his beard was growing back, his arched brow was now split by a gash, his sharp cheekbone was marred by a dark bruise. She thought he was beautiful, and all she wanted was the chance to make him laugh again, to see him smile at her from across the room, to talk late into the night about everything and nothing.

She slid back to her chair and pulled her knees up to her chin, suddenly overwhelmed with the turmoil she’d been fighting since Cassian first disappeared. Jyn clamped a hand over her mouth to silence her sorrow while tears poured down her own cheeks. She took out the kyber crystal that hung around her neck and squeezed it. If the Force would give her this one little thing, if it would save Cassian, Jyn Erso promised the mystical power that she would truly believe in hope.

——————–

END NOTES

NEXT CHAPTER IS CALLED “THE REDEMPTION" - Tarkin may be gone but he still has a hold on Cassian.

Thank you for reading!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very welcome!

Much love!

——————–

READ IT ON AO3- Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1 “The Razor”

READ CHAPTER 2 “The Scythe”

READ CHAPTER 3 “The Cold”

READ CHAPTER 4 “The Expendable”

READ CHAPTER 5 “The Truth”

READ CHAPTER 6 “The Detritus”

READ CHAPTER 7 “The Salt”

READ CHAPTER 8 “The Power”

READ CHAPTER 9 “The Betrayal”

REACH CHAPTER 10 “The Ruse”

READ CHAPTER 11 “The Reprieve”

READ CHAPTER 12 "The Ghosts"

READ CHAPTER 13 “The Redemption”

READ CHAPTER 14 “The Spoils”

READ CHAPTER 15 “The Interrogation”

READ CHAPTER 16 "The Rogues"

READ CHAPTER 17 “The Absolution”

READ CHAPTER 18 “The Reach”

READ CHAPTER 19 “The Hologram”

READ CHAPTER 20 “The Divide”

READ CHAPTER 21 “The Cost”

READ CHAPTER 22 “The Fallout”

READ CHAPTER 23 “The Wounds”

READ CHAPTER 24 “The Hand”

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anxiouspineapple99 · 1 year

Text

Jango’s Sons

Summary: This is what I think of when I hear the song ‘I See Fire’ and I decided to write about it.

Pairing: None

Word Count: 875

Warnings: angst, whump, death, war, alcohol use

Song: I See Fire - Ed Sheeran

A/N: Kind of hurt my own feelings with this one. I apologize. Kind of. Once again not proofread. And yes I am still procrastinating on my other works. My creativity has ADHD too, apparently. Reblogs are super appreciated!

—————

Oh, misty eye of the mountain below; Keep careful watch of my brothers' souls

And should the sky be filled with fire and smoke; Keep watching over Durin's [Jango’s]sons

The night before deployment the barracks are buzzing with activity. Shinies group together jittery with anticipation, nerves, some even excitement. The seasoned vets are more stoic. They’re thoughtful, remembering the brothers that didn’t get to come home last time. Hoping more make it back this time. The officers are running diagnostics, completing inspections, revisiting and revising battle plans. It isn’t long before the legions, battalions, squads, and regiments have grouped together and rank, experience, and title don’t matter. Tonight, they are only brothers, Jango’s sons.

And if we should die tonight; Then we should all die together

Raise a glass of wine for the last time

Someone always sneaks in a few bottles of alcohol. It’s part of the unspoken tradition in which brothers of all ranks commune together before forging forth into battle. Sometimes it’s a few shinies who sneak in some cheap hooch, sometimes the vets, and sometimes the officers supply the nicer booze. Some Jedi Generals participate as well. Plo Koon never partakes but always provides. He meditates with the Wolf Pack as his men bond over Corellian wine or Port in the Storm. He makes sure his boys have the best because he loves them each as sons and has immense respect for their pre-battle traditions. Anakin joins the 501st every time. He brings a bottle of the finest liquor Padme has on hand. The 501st is always raucous filled with playful banter, teasing, and pranks. When Aayala Secura brings the libations, it’s always Bly’s favorite. And Bly always brings Aayala’s favorite when it’s his turn. No one complains though. They understand. Master Yoda and Master Windu send bottles to the barracks, but do not leave their personal quarters. There is always an encouraging or uplifting sentiment for their men written on some flimsi attached to the gift. Obi-Wan and Cody share a brandy toast while the 212th play a few rounds of sabbac.

Oh, should my people fall; Then surely I'll do the same

Confined in mountain halls; We got too close to the flame

Eventually the levity dies down. Captains, commanders, vets, and even generals address their men. They acknowledge the danger they are walking into. They remind them that they are brothers always. Remember and honor those who fall. Save those you can. Cover each other’s backs. Generals promise to protect as best they can, commanders and captains promise to lead with integrity. Vets give reassurance to shinies. They raise a final glass to their brothers past, their brothers present, and to the Republic of the future. Live to fight another day, boys.

And if the night is burning I will cover my eyes For if the dark returns

Then my brothers will die

The transport ships approach and the men are silent. Resolute jaws clenched, remembering the night before. Follow orders. Orders keep you alive. Making a silent pledge to have their brothers’ backs. To cover each other no matter what. They stand together or they fall together. That is clone brotherhood. The same hearts, the same blood.

And as the sky is falling down; It crashed into this lonely town

Boots hit the ground and they’re already engulfed in the cacophonous roar of blaster fire, the clanking of droids marching, the grinding of the joints of the AT-RT, the rotary cannons, rocket launchers, and orders being yelled by generals and commanders. Comm chatter drifts among helmets. HUD sensors alert in a frenzy. Destruction is everywhere already.

And with that shadow upon the ground I hear my people screaming out

One by one, shiny, vet, captains, commanders, they see their brothers falling around them. They hear the screams of the injured. Push forward. Cover your brothers’ backs. They’ll cover yours. Come back for the injured when you can.

Now I see fire Inside the mountains; I see fire Burning the trees

They close in on the those karkin clankers. Fire. Explosions. It would be deafening if their helmets couldn’t be soundproofed. Push on. Cover your brothers, they’ll cover you. Follow orders, stay alive.

I see fire Hollowing souls; I see fire— Blood in the breeze

It’s still now. The Seps pushed out. Another victory, another tally for the armor. Survivors now must collect themselves. Collect their brothers. Shinies, no longer shiny, stare vacantly as brothers offer a comforting hand on the shoulder or back. Medics search for survivors by the lifesigns transmissions coming from their brothers’ armor. Many are found and are placed on gurneys. Some lifesign transmissions stop short of being found, sometimes mere meters away from their rescuers. The dead are quietly mourned by brothers left standing. No one wins in war, least of all clones. Clankers may not be able to think or improvise, but they also don’t bleed.

Oh you know I saw a city burning out (fire)

And I see fire

Feel the heat upon my skin, yeah (fire)

And I see fire (fire)

Transports bring the survivors back to the attack cruisers awaiting in the planet’s orbit. Live to fight another day, that’s what they keep saying. But tonight, Jango’s sons see fire in their dreams.

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