#back when cassian was cassian and not just nasty's side piece | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vipier · 1 month

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padawan to jedi to clone war general to inquisitor au timeline:

45 BBY: tristan patel is born.

42 BBY: the jedi order comes to his birth family’s door after discovering that he is force sensitive. tristan’s biological father is eager to let his troublesome child go with the help of a few credits.

41 - 33 BBY: as a jedi initiate, tristan is trained in cobra clan with a group of approximately 20 other students in the ways of the force. he struggles maintaining his emotions, which causes concern for several of the jedi masters. however, he possesses enough power and raw talent, and demonstrates enough progress, that he is permitted to continue.

33 BBY: tristan participates in the initiate trials and catches the eye of master seneca kappel, who takes him on as his padawan.

33 BBY - 23 BBY: tristan remains master seneca’s padawan. his master is a bit more “ hands-off ” in his training than most masters with their padawans — but, regardless, always seems to know what tristan has been up to, so there’s at least an understanding from tris that he’s being watched most of the time he isn’t directly at his master’s side. not that this improves his behavior ; if anything, he acts out in subtle ways, including eventually beginning an arguably reckless romantic entanglement with naval academy student and eventual senator’s aide cassian jeron andor, of which his master vocally disapproves but somehow still tolerates.

23 BBY: master seneca finally permits tristan to complete his jedi trials and takes him to the jedi temple on lothal to do so. despite struggling immensely with three of the nine steps — namely teamwork, anger, and forgiveness — tristan ultimately passes the trials and is knighted, just in time to see the galaxy descend into chaos the following year when the clone wars begin.

22 BBY: as a fully fledged jedi knight, tristan is made a general and placed in charge of his own troops, despite his misgivings. he struggles tremendously with leadership, and at times, his men doubt him. he seeks the counsel of his master, but finds far greater assistance in the advice of his secret lover, now a naval captain with a born knack for command and attracting loyalty. gradually, his leadership improves, and although he knows he will never be any truly great leader, his men begin to trust him more.

22 - 19 BBY: tristan and his men fight through the duration of the clone wars, often alongside captain andor’s troops, and all the while, he yearns for a swift end to the war, gradually disenchanted with battle and republic rhetoric and the orders issued by the jedi council. in his weaker moments, he asks his lover to run away with him, knowing they’d never make it without being executed as defectors — and knowing he would never agree.

19 BBY: tristan receives a visit from his old master while stationed with his troops on kashyyyk. master seneca confirms reports that general kenobi has gone to engage general grievous on utapau and that the war will soon come to a close. he also informs tris that captain andor has been revealed as a separatist and traitor, and that he expects tristan to arrest or, if necessary, kill him, because he's the one person who might be able to get close enough to do so. tristan first refuses to believe this information, then patently refuses to complete the task whether or not the information is true. the argument escalates until both men simultaneously sense a vast disturbance in the force. unbeknownst to both of them, order 66 has begun, and within moments, tristan's clone forces have turned on them. master seneca see his chance and abandons his former padawan without a glance back. it is only by a stroke of the most unlikely fate that tristan manages to escape with only the clothes on his back, his lightsaber, and a number of nasty blaster burns. although he is unable to piece together what actually happened until weeks later, he knows he is on the run. in reality, through all official channels, jedi general tristan patel is presumed dead.

19 - 17 BBY: he is a fugitive with no friends and no resources, merely surviving, flying under the radar and terrified to reveal even a fraction of his identity for fear of being discovered by vader and his inquisitors. he managed to flee kashyyyk to the outer rim and inhabits mostly desolate planets, foraging for most of his food, and trying to stifle his connection to the force as much as possible for fear of being discovered. he has surmised that the few allies he may have had, including captain andor, are dead.

17 - 16 BBY: tristan's greatest fear is realized and he is captured by lord vader's inquisitors on the outer rim planet of vaal in the gordian reach, where he had made a temporary home for himself in a remote area of the vast savannah there. after a fight, and despite expecting death, he was taken to the fortress inquisitorius, where he spent the next year incarcerated. throughout this time, the inquisitors, purge troopers, and some empire scientists interrogated, tortured, and performed experiments on him in a calculated effort to break his will. while tris finds himself tormented and hopeless during this time, the most prevalent emotion is rage. eventually, he realizes that he can use this rage to make it appear as though he's fallen completely to the dark side - which he does successfully.

16 BBY - 4 ABY: tristan becomes a full inquisitor, the eleventh brother, and for the next twenty years of his life, must hide in the lion's den, shielded from detection amongst his own ranks of force users by his unpredictable anger, which effectively eclipses his intentions of revenge and sabotage of the empire after having everything taken from him. unfortunately, this gamble of his opens a dangerous door that leads him down the path of actively fighting descent to the dark side as he balances the use of his rage for his own protection and the protection of the eventual rebel networks to which he feeds information, and attempts to pull himself away from the precipice of being consumed by darkness completely. throughout this time, he probably saves hundreds or thousands of lives - but is also forced to do countless things he never wanted to, all of which pull him further toward an edge from which he fears he can never return.

TIMELINE BETWEEN 16 BBY AND 4 ABY UNDER THE CUT:

15 BBY - 6 BBY: tristan successfully makes contact with two different rebel forces: saw gerrera's partisans and bail organa's resistance network. he uses the alias of viper to send the appropriate information to each faction, namely assisting gerrera's partisans in identifying the most effective times and places for empire sabotage and delivering the names of force sensitive and other vulnerable individuals, as well as potential spies, to organa's network for rescue or recruitment. for almost a decade, he manages to ferry information under the radar. nobody suspects on either side that the eleventh brother could possibly be this rebel informant, whose valuable information leads his moniker to be whispered with increasing frequency among those who would align themselves with rebel cells.

6 BBY - 2 BBY: saw gerrera becomes increasingly paranoid, including developing suspicion for the individual calling himself viper, especially after nine years of refusing to reveal himself. through saw, tristan is able to make contact with luthen rael, who agrees to assume any risk associated with the anonymous informant. tristan spends the next four years in contact with luthen and his associate kleya marki to deliver sensitive information.

2 BBY - 4 ABY: the rebel alliance in its final form finally comes to fruition. for convenience, tristan's viper reports siphon their way solely through rebel intelligence via general davits draven, rather than both through luthen and bail organa's contact, for approximately the first year after the alliance's official formation. in 1 BBY, however, when cassian andor commits to the rebellion after years of chaotic and dangerous solo work, apparently with a new resolve and commitment, viper transmits that he with only communicate with andor moving forward. while a bit baffling to rebel high command - and a bit of a hit to general draven's ego, to lose exclusive access to a vital informant - the rebellion allows this. the reality is that tristan discovered cassian's survival many years before, when he was captured by the eleventh brother's purge trooper squadron. without explanation, tristan let him go and has been monitoring him and protecting him as best he can since without revealing his own identity, for fear other inquisitors - or force forbid, lord vader - might sense the shift or andor might be discovered and killed. sometime in 2 BBY, a course of events forced his identity to be revealed to his former lover and they were reunited under dangerous circumstances. tristan urged cassian to commit to the rebellion, to help him, and for the next five years, cassian becomes his " handler, " with nobody else the wiser that viper is, in fact, the eleventh brother.

4 ABY: after the conclusion of the battle of endor, the rebels storm the fortress inquisitorius. tristan, already fighting what feels like a losing battle within himself with the dark side, attempts to flee - not out of cowardice but out of fear he will destroy the entire invading squadron if they attack. he finds himself cornered, unable to explain himself to a group of reactive and distrustful rebels who've just faced a number of his supposed brethren, all prepared to kill them all. with blasters trained on him, the air pressure crackling around them as tristan attempts to control his power made vast by his constant and purposeful fostering of hate, it all nearly comes to a head before captain andor intervenes and dispurses the troops as he pulls tristan back from the brink. tristan, overwhelmed and drained, collapses and is brought back to rebel headquarters, where he remains in a bacta tank for a week. he wakes in a panic, exploding the bacta tank and setting off a number of alarms, after which that particular medbay is evacuated, save for tristan himself, a number of medical droids, and captain andor, who refuses to leave. it takes a number of weeks for tristan to even partially recover, and by the time he is debriefed, pardoned, given his accolades for his service, and discharged, he still walks with a cane. with cassian, he leaves as soon as he's able for a remote forested planet on the outer rim, where cass has a house waiting for them to return to.

FOLLOWING 4 ABY: tristan sheds the title of both jedi and inquisitor. he suffers deeply from night terrors and struggles with remants of the dark side rising to the surface which remain persistant for years, but begin to dissipate, even though they never fully go away. to heal himself, he focuses hard on removing the rage, on building a home with his lover, cultivating hobbies, discovering a life after four and a half decades of war and use by others. eventually, after spending a significant amount of time isolated in nature, he begins to repair his relationship with the force on his own terms, without the tie of any particular label. to his delight, he's able to pull the corruption from the kyber crystal which powers his lightsaber, turning it back from red to its original yellow. he's little interest in the politics of the new republic, but very occasionally, he's sought after for advice relating to his knowledge of the empire as well as his knowledge of the force. he also becomes useful to the small community on his planet for the deep connection he develops with the forest, which proves a boon for the farmers, loggers, and ranchers in the area.

#EVERYONE APPLAUD THIS TOOK ME SOOOO LONG #this is a heavily featured moss post to nobody's surprise #but this is one of my better verses i've written if i do say so myself #life to life. soul to soul. you pull me from the dark with this single thread of gold. ( star wars arc ii )

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redheadspark · 2 years

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#44 “ have i ever told you how perfect you are? ” from the new reassuring your partner prompts with Azriel x Reader?! Maybe the reader is the one that is reassuring because Azriel got like self conscious about his hands or something! Tysm❤️

A/N: AAAHHHHH!! This is a CUTE one for our boy Azriel! Thanks for the request Anon!

Vessels

Summary: Azriel's hands hold so much pain and torment. But they also hold so much love and perfection too.

Warnings: Some good ol' fashioned angst but a good amount go fluffiness at the end!

His hands were the thing of legend.

He could wield so much power and so much precision within his two palms when he was the Spymaster of Velaris, a high ranking member of the Inner Circle in Night Court. He was known far and wide how to fight and how to fight well, his swiftness of his wings and the tight movements of his hands were enough to make him deadly and lethal. Ever since he started working alongside Rhysand when he became High Lord, even long before that when they were childhood friends, Azriel was devoted his craft of fighting and spying.

He was intimidating to all how saw him, no one dared to cross him or make the wrong move. Yet you saw the other side of him when he courted you and your tow became mates, the softer and gentler side of Azriel that was raided for warmth than anything. Sure he was the strong silent type, but he was almost kind and resourceful and had a great sense of humor too. No wonder you were under his spell from the moment he smiled at you when Feyre introduced the pair of you.

A genuine smile on his face, which was rare according to Cassian.

Your love for him grew, being able to tear down there barriers and walls he placed up over himself and his heart. You broke them down over time with your conversations and talks together. Getting to see the vulnerable side of Azriel felt like an honor and privilege, never taking any moment for granted. But there was one thing that Azriel as hesitant in bring out in the wide open space, and it was right on his hands.

His scarred hands.

It took him some time to tell you what happened and how he got the scars, you being patient enough to let him tell you on his time. Sure enough, one afternoon as you two strolled together along the riverbanks, Azriel mentioned all that happened with his part and those who scarred him. It pained you, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces as you both sat along the riverbanks with your feet in the water to cool off the heat along your skin. He left no detail out for you, and it spruced you in how willing he was going to indulge in such a harsh and brutal memory.

Once he finished, Azriel looked at you with worry and reluctance. Maybe he was worried you would run away from hearing what append to him, that he had a nasty past and was not the notorious SpyMaster people thought him to be. But you simply gazed lovingly at him, leaning in to kiss him soundly with your hands reaching down to hold his delicate yet deadly hands in his own. He was taken aback from the kiss, but he kissed you back smoothly as you rubbed your thumbs along his scarred skin.

When you pulled away, you pulled his hands up and kissed the backs of them, delicately and intimately as the scars touched your lips. He watched the entire thing, hazel eyes wide and in wonder as you looked back at him and crawled his hands against your chest.

"These marks do not defy you," You explained, his eyes searching yours as you kept your voice low and soothing like the river where your feet were perched in, "Your soul does, and I find it beautiful and perfect just the way it is. I love all of you, these hands and all."

So years and years later, when you both were settled into your mating life together in your new little cottage nestled just outside Velaris, you walked into him holding your infant son, Aiden, one night in your room. The night was warm from the summer seasons, fireflies were dancing outside the window that showed the garden you were growing herbs and veggies, and the cool wind of the night was coming down from the tall mountains not too far away. Azriel was watching Aiden as you were finishing your duties at the House of Wind with Mor and Armen. Your husband and mate wanted a break from being elbow deep in paperwork and maps, letting you take some time with your own delegation duties.

You tipped outside the bedroom in the hallway, going your head in and seeing the silhouette of Azriel holding your son, swaddled in his blanket and fast sleep while Azriel sang him one of his favorite lullabies. It used to be his lullaby sung to him by his mother, seething he wished to pass down to his son. One the morning Aiden was born, Azriel held him close and hummed it to him, making your heart swell as he was now the one song he would serenade his child to.

You tapped lightly on the door with your knuckles, Azriel looking up and stopping his singing. He grinned widely at you, his eyes twinkling as you glided into the room to sit next to him on the edge of the bed. Aiden was still in his arms, perfect in appearance and sleepy soundly as you touched his cheek and moved his raven black hair from his long lashes.

"How was he?" You whispered, Azriel grinning as you were watching your son, "Not too bad I hope,"

"He was perfectly fine," Azriel replied soundly as your leaned your head on his shoulder, "He got fussy at dinner, but apart from that he was okay,"

"Just like his father: a fussy batboy when he's hungry," You joked, Azriel sticking his tongue out at you as you were watching Aiden fast asleep in his arms. Your eyes moved from Aiden over to the hands that were cradling him, holding him gently and protectively. These scars were seen, even in the darkness of the bedroom, almost shining from the sliver of the skin as Azriel watched your eyes moved to his hands. You smiled widely from the sight, moving one of your hands to place one one of his against your son's blanket.

Azriel loved being a father, and he adored and cherished Aiden like he was the long lost treasure that he was searching for his whole life. Of course when you told him you were with child, he was nervous and scared in what kind of father he would be. But as soon as Aiden was born, screaming and wailing into the void but healthy, Azriel was in love. He would find a way to hold his son in his hands, the same hands that killed enemies and tortured for information. The same hands that could bring fear to even the bravest soldiers or toughest Illryian fighters.

But he held Aidan like a precious jewel.

"Have I ever told you how perfect you are?" You asked him, Azriel looking from his son over to you wit a cocky grin. You just smiled widely, kissing his cheek as your thumb was still rubbing his hand against the blanket that swaddled your baby. Azriel only kissed your cheek back.

"Only every day, my darling," he replied smoothly, "Though....you haven't today..."

"Sap," you joked, though you both were giggling silently to let your child sleep in his fathers arms. It was your mission to always remind Azriel he was perfect, scars and all. Even with a new home, a infant child with both of your features, and a blissful feature in front of you, you'll still remind Azriel of his perfection.

Inner and outer scars and all.

The End.

Reassurance Prompts Found Here

#azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar fanfiction #actoar #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar fandom

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julemmaes · 2 years

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Cook For Me

Nessian week 2022, day two: food

A/N: two in a day??? I know, I'm going fucking insane. But it's okay.

This is for @letstakethedawn, my sweet and fucking beautiful wifey. I promised fluff and fluff I delivered with a heavy sprinkle of angst, but you can't fully blame that on me. The prompt was already fucked up.

@nessianweek

Word count: 3,039

Nesta knew the time had come where she needed to detach herself from Cassian, actually get dressed and drive him to the airport. The problem was, she really didn’t fucking want to.

They had spent the last five days locked up in their place, only leaving late in the afternoons to go join their friends and family at the bar or at Azriel’s townhouse and come back here before midnight.

Feyre had scolded them when they’d jokingly said they planned on staying home, fucking all day, for the last remaining week Cassian had in Prythian. The very detailed description of what Nesta’s youngest sister would have done to them if they didn’t show up at least for a few hours every night had them both rolling out of bed, showering and at Rita’s twice in a row. The other four nights Cassian had promised Nesta really nasty things to convince her to go to Azriel’s and share him with the others.

They’d had a pretty emotional night the day before, when instead of riding his bike back home, Cassian had had to leave it in his brother’s garage, for him to use while he was away for a year. Nesta thought she’d never really cared for that piece of metal, but she’d found herself shedding a few tears walking all the way home. She had tried to convince everyone—herself included—that it hadn’t only been because of the bike, but her boyfriend had done a pretty good job at reminding her how Bartholomew was a huge chunk of their story.

And for the most part, that was true.

It had been there for their first meeting, just outside Nesta’s workplace were Cassian had to deliver a pizza on her very first day there. For their first date, in which Nesta had been so excited about riding it that Cassian had proposed on the spot, making her laugh and letting him know that he’d have to sweat it. All the weekends gateways they’d been on to escape their families and life when it got too hard, they’d always taken his bike, never a car. Not a single time. And Cassian argued about how they should have in the now-far October, during their fifth anniversary, when the skies had opened on them like they had done something personal to the gods. They’d gotten in a pretty bad accident, risking falling off a cliff because of a mindless driver on the other lane.

After that event, Nesta hadn’t been that adamant in riding his bike that much, but she’d never blamed his MewMew.

Lying in his bed now, her brain still mush after the four orgasms her very caring and relentless boyfriend had given her, she was trying to ignore the ache in her chest.

Her head was resting against his pec and she could hear his heart beating while he gently brushed her hair from her face with his arm circling her shoulders. One of her legs was perched on his hips and with his other hand, he was tracing lines back and forth on her thigh, sending shivers down her spine.

She was going to miss having this.

At first she’d proposed seeing each other less and less while he still was here, to make the departure less painful. Maybe getting used to not seeing him every day, just twice or once a week, would have eased them in the long distance thing more easily, but Cassian had made the most horrified face she’d ever seen him make and had called her a thousand ways of insane.

Nesta was not regretting having spent the last ten days holed up in his room, not one bit, but she did regret having had a taste of what domestic life felt like with Cassian. She regretted giving herself completely to the man who was currently about to leave for the other side of the world for twelve whole months.

“I can hear the little mouse in your brain run on his wheel like he’s on some kind of acids.”

Cassian’s voice came out gravelly, sounding a lot like the voice of someone who’d spent the last hours whispering in her ear all such of filthy things.

Nesta groaned and turned her head to his chest, pressing her face into his skin, hoping she could become a part of him and he’d be forced to take her with him. She tried to talk and the sound came out muffled.

His laugh shook her body, “Didn’t hear a single thing, sorry.”

It took immense energy to lift her head, the muscle in her neck straining to look up, but the sight of him smiling sheepishly down at her was everything she needed and more. She couldn’t keep the smile from breaking on her lips and then she huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes.

“I just said,” her voice was so raspy she had to cough to free her airways. Cassian smirked, as if knowing the reason for her sore throat was him. “I just said, I don’t want you to leave.”

His smile fell a bit, turning into a sad grimace and he moved his hand up to the swell of her ass, lifting her up on his torso so that she was pressed even more onto him. His eyes darted down to her tits for a moment, but they went back to her face right away as he said, “I know, baby. I fucking hate this too.”

They stared at each other for a moment and then Cassian slapped her ass, hard, making her yelp in surprise. “Get up, babe. Gotta give you something.”

Nesta whined as he moved her off of him.

He was already out of bed when his words sunk in. She tensed starring at the ceiling.

“Cassian.”

He hummed.

“Cassian,” she repeated, trying to keep her calm. She got up on her elbows, watching as he frantically opened and closed all the drawers. This douche. “Cass, fucking christ. We’d said no goodbye gifts.”

He didn’t even glance her way as he rummaged through the only box that he hadn’t already mailed to Lunathion. “Well, sweetie, you should have known better. Ah!” He raised a hand to sky and the tiny package shone under the low light. It was sparkly and Nesta’s attention was piqued, but she was still annoyed that he’d gotten her something when they’d decided against it together.

He was smiling like a toddler on Christmas day and he trotted back to the bed, handing the small packet to her. Nesta took it reluctantly and was eyeing him weirdly. He had been the one to propose the no-gifts rule and it made her wonder what was so important that he went all the way and broke a promise of his own. It wasn’t like Cassian to back no something like this.

He smiled encouragingly, nodding to the present. “C’mon, open it!”

Nesta shook the thing, hoping to get a hint at what was inside, but Cassian smirked.

“You’re not gonna find out unless you open the damn thing, so just go with it.” He sat down next to her, placing a hand on her leg and stroking her tigh lovingly. “It took me so fucking much.”

Nesta’s eyes went wide, “You made this?”

“Why are you so surprised?” He laughed, “You haven’t even seen what it is yet, might literally be a shit cake with some mud and leaves on it.”

She shook her head, “You’re disgusting.”

Cassian shrugged, “I’m trying to make you hate me, so maybe you won’t miss me as much.”

Nesta looked at him with a frown.

“That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said in eight years of relationship.”

“Yeah like not living with each other on my last week here.” He fired back, looking pointedly at her.

Nesta tilted her head, smacking her lips, still turning the sparkly gift in her hands.

“Fair.”

“Just open the fucking thing, Nes.”

“So bossy.”

“That’s how you like me.”

She smiled at that and tore open the paper, being careful not to get the silver glitter all over the sheets.

Something fell on her ankle and when she looked down in between them, the smallest book she’d ever seen sat there.

The cover was a very light blue, silver and golden intricate lines decorated the spine and on the front a sinuous theatre mask had been drawn with delicate brushes. Some white flowers adorned the outline and finally, at the very bottom of the cover, written in a fine line calligraphy, there were just three words.

Cook for me.

This was definitely handmade, but Cassian couldn’t have had anything to do with the drawings and decorations. She just knew he hadn’t meant this when he’d said he’d done it himself.

“This is beautiful, Cass.” She whispered, passing the tip of her finger over the complex binding.

Nesta glanced his way and he was looking straight at her, eyeing her reaction to the gift. He wore an embarassed smile and it was so not-Cassian that she felt the impulse to open the book, feeling like that wasn’t what he’d put so much of himself into.

She delicately turned the paper and, to her surprise, his writing covered the whole page.

She only skimmed the words, wanting to see if there were more, but when she went to flick the rest of the book, his huge hand covered the book completely.

Nesta looked up at him, wondering what he was doing.

“You can’t read it right now.”

Her mouth gaped.

He laughed.

“I knew you were gonna hate me for this, but I swear it’s romantic once you have all the info.”

Nesta tried to get a glimpse of whatever was written on it, her interested in it now a thousand times stronger, but his fingers shut and she couldn’t see anything.

She breathed in through her nostrils, “What is it, then, if not a book I can read?”

Cassian scooted closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and hoisting them both up, leaning on the headboard a few seconds later.

Nesta loved it when he manhandled her that way.

She rested her head against his shoulders and let him took the book from her hands as they got comfortable.

He closed it and showed her the cover once more. The book looked even smaller in his hand.

When he spoke, his lips brushed against her ear and she shivered, gripping his thigh, stopping the urge to grind her ass against his crotch.

“I wrote in it every single day for the past six months. Since I got the confirmation I’d be going.” He started, “I know we can make it, I know we’ll get over this year quicker than we think, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be easy for either of us.”

Nesta nodded and turned her head just enough that their lips brushed. He closed his eyes and brought a hand to her jaw, tilting her head up so he could deepen the kiss. His tongue licked just briefly her upper lip and then he left a peck on the tip of her nose.

“You’re gonna have to read one page per day. No cheating. I’ll find out if you did. And on the first page there’s a link.”

He cracked the book open so fast Nesta gasped, clutching his wrists, stopping him from breaking the delicate needlework.

“Don’t be such a brute.” She said.

Cassian didn’t give her an ounce of attention, “I put a link here,” he passed his thumb over the letters, “I can send it to you if you don’t want to copy it letter by letter. It will lead you to a folder.”

“A folder?”

“In it there are around a hundred videos of me.” He confessed.

Nesta perched up at that and turned completely towards him, a raised brow. “Did you film yourself jerking off a hundred times for me to see you every day?”

Cassian made a shook face and mouthed to her what the fuck before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. He huffed out a laugh and then with the cutest grin said, “No, babe, I did not.”

She shrugged like it was nothing, “So what are you doing in these videos?”

His cheeks turned the slightest red, “I’m cooking.”

Nesta gawked at him.

“And the notes…” he scratched the back of his head and she found it endearing that he still got this awkward around her, even after so many years. “I- They’re kinda important. Not random notes. They like tiny love letters.”

She was speechless.

He’d written her more than a hundred letters.

He’d taken the time and put the effort in something she would treasure for the rest of their lives.

Cassian took her silence as an invitation to keep talking.

“I know it’s gonna be hard for us to not be around each other all day long. And there will probably be days where we don’t hear from the other, so I wanted you to have this.”

He thrust the book towards her and Nesta glanced down at it, her sight going blur.

“I’m obviously going to try my hardest to avoid not texting you or calling you for a whole ass day, but I don’t want you not having anything from me for that long in case it happens and I couldn’t come up with something better, or I’d have-”

At this point, he was just blabbering random things, so Nesta raised her head and let him see the tears streaking down her face.

Cassian’s face scrunched up in a teary grimace too and he opened his arms wide for her to jump right into them. She sobbed into his chest, the weight of the day hitting her like a brick wall, and she let herself be lulled as he ran his hand through her hair and told her just how much he loved her.

It wasn’t until both their phones went off that they realised the time to leave for the airport had come.

Nesta got up, her head feeling like someone had poured lead into it, and wiped her cheeks, noticing only then that Cassian had been silently crying too. He smiled through the tears at her, no real happiness behind one of the things she loved the most about him, and he lifted a hand to her face, cradling her cheek kindly.

They looked each other in the eye for a beat and then they started getting ready.

She wasn’t sure how she was gonna sleep in this bedroom without him snoring softly next to her, holding her tight through the night, but she would have to manage on her own, one way or the other.

They drove to the Velaris Airport in complete silence, Cassian’s hand never leaving Nesta’s across the console and right before getting out of the car, they shared one last glance, breaking into tears once again, laughing right after for the other’s reaction.

They had promised themselves they would spend just a few minutes in front of the security controls, saying their goodbyes at home, in their bubble, but right then, holding onto each other like they were never to be met again, Nesta found it hard to let go.

Cassian was gripping her like he never had before and she jerked when he whispered in her ear. “Did you bring it with you?”

Knowing he was referring to the book, she just nodded. He didn’t need to know she’d take it everywhere she’d go from now on.

“Good, because the first letter is for when you’re alone after leaving me here. You can read it in the car.”

She didn’t care.

She didn’t wanna leave him.

Cassian’s breath trembled as he tightened his grip on her. “Babe, I…” he sniffed, “I really need to go now.”

Nesta shook her head. No.

“Yes,” he laughed humorlessly. He tried to take a step back and she followed, taking one forward. “Okay,” he murmured in her hair, “one more minute.”

So they stood there, surrounded by people running to their gates or their loved ones, waiting to get back home or start a whole new chapter of their life completely. Cassian was about to join them. Nesta would be going home by herself. And then the tragedy would begin.

They kissed under the flickering lights of the airport and finally, as they both kept on shedding tears, they parted and Nesta waited until she couldn’t see him anymore beyond the gates and only then did she walk away.

She felt as if she’d just lost a limb.

She knew that feeling wouldn’t last forever, but the wound was just being torn in her heart in the moment and she didn’t care who saw her violently sobbing, trying to contain her pain as she made her way to the parking lots.

The second she got in her car, she didn’t hesitate and took the book from her bag.

She wiped her eyes, hoping it would help with the blurring somehow, but it only got worse. So she waited for the crying to stop.

Once it became clear that she couldn’t, she cursed and opened it anyway, trying to read throw the tears.

Hey sweetheart. I know you’re crying right now, I'm sure I'll be doing the same, so don't worry. It's tearing my soul apart not being there with you right now, but remember that I love you and that I'm just a phone call away. It's only been a few minutes and I already miss you terribly. I love you. I love you. I'll call you as soon as I land.

I love you, again.

Today’s video was him cooking simple chocolate chips pancakes. Her favourite.

Nesta read it and reread it a million times, and watched the video just as much, feeling as if her lungs couldn’t get in enough air. But she realised something as she drove home.

Cassian had given her something to look forward to every day, till the day he came back to her.

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bookstantrash · 3 years

Text

A/N: Hey folks, are we all alive after ACOSF? Because I sure am not.

Sorry for delaying this chapter, my head was just so full of ACOSF that writing had been pushed back a little. But worry not, last chapter’s cliff hanger finally is over!! I think this is one of the biggest chapters I have written (it is 3K), so I hope you enjoy it!!

In which she makes a Friend, Part Ten

Nesta had fallen asleep on the chair near her bed, where Kaelin was currently sleeping soundly. The same scene from a couple of months back, when she had just discovered that Kaelin was actually a girl, made chills run down her spine.

She didn’t like this situation. Didn’t like it at all.

Cassian had barged into the cabin with a bleeding and passed out Kaelin on his arms, making Nesta jump from her position on the couch, where she had been nervously waiting for them. She had ushered Cassian to place Kaelin in her room, trying to keep her voice low and calm as she asked what the hell had happened.

The menacing aura emanating from Cassian took her back to the memory of when she was human. Of when she had allowed him to get way too close to her. Had allowed him to scent and see the fear in her eyes at the reminder of tearing skirts and cries of help.

Had reminded her of how he had gone utterly still, the need to kill and inflict unbearable pain on the one who had hurt her.

She was not seeing Cassian, the laidback male who cooked for her, and hummed in the kitchen, or who gifted her and Kaelin thoughtful things.

No, she was seeing Cassian, General Commander of the Illyrian armies.

The Lord of Bloodshed.

But that did not frighten her. No, as it had been when she was human, she was not frightened of Cassian.

Nesta was frightened for those who would suffer the wrath of the 500 year old Illyrian, who had been compared with the great warrior god Enalius.

Cassian had left Kaelin in Nesta’s care, giving her a tight smile before leaving again.

Nesta had tended to Kaelin’s wound the best that she could, cleaning the dried blood on her face, but not daring to undress the young Illyrian of her bloodied leathers in fear that Cassian came back suddenly.

However, when Nesta was boiling some tea in hopes of easing her nerves and heard someone knocking on the door, she opened it not to find Cassian but Esmée, the healer matron with a basket full of vials and linens, a serious look on her face.

“That headstrong kurumin all but barged into my barrack, demanding that I rush here and see to that bubbly pitanga” Esmée had pursed her lips as she took in Kaelin’s appearance “Although he did not say how bad the poor thing looked”

Nesta had watched Esmée like a hawk as the healer applied some ointment to Kaelin’s cuts and bruises. Her Illyrian blood would heal her faster, but even the warrior race could be exposed to infections. That was a risk they were not going to take, especially after Cassian had told Nesta where he had found Kaelin.

She had tried not to think of the young girl being beaten in a remote area in the woods. Tried not to think of what would have happened had Cassian not arrived.

Had Kaelin’s killing power not been activated.

Too many thoughts run around Nesta’s mind. Too many variables having been added to the already messy situation.

And Nesta had also tried not to think of how Cassian had eyed her before he left. How while he had told her of Kaelin’s breakdown his hazel eyes had been searching her face for a spark of recognition.

Searching her face for a shadow of a secret shared between her and Kaelin, hidden deeply into her mind, behind the fortress of iron that surrounded it.

Cassian suspected something.

And it was only a matter of time before others started to suspect too.

Nesta was sure of it, especially when she had tensed while Esmée opened Kaelin’s leathers to examine her other bruises.

She had only eased when she noticed that Kaelin wore a thin tunic underneath it, also remembering the band she used to bind her chest.

As long as Esmée did not remove Kaelin’s tunic there was no danger of her secret being exposed.

“He broke one rib and another is seriously bruised” Esmée had informed, running her hands over Kaelin’s torso “And he will have some nasty marks on his stomach, probably due to the punches that broke them. He’s to rest for at least a week. If that good for nothing camp Lord says anything about it just tell the General to pay him a visit and politely convince him of sticking his opinions where the sun does not shine.”

Nesta had fought back a smile at the healer’s words, walking her to the door and letting out a sigh of relief when she was gone.

Nesta rose from the chair with a loan groan, her whole body aching from sleeping in an awkward position. She turned her neck from side to side, hoping to ease the tension accumulated as she quietly closed her bedroom door and went to the kitchen. She had not eaten a single thing since Cassian had left to go search for Kaelin, the only thing in her stomach being the tea she had brewed before Esmée had arrived.

Looking at the clock on the wall, she furrowed her brows in confusion. Cassian should already have been up and about, being the early riser that he was. But now that she stopped to think about it, she had not heard him coming back yesterday night.

A cold dread settled in her stomach, and she fought the urge to tug at the thin thread hidden deep within herself, if only to be certain of his whereabouts.

“He’s fine Nesta'' she murmured to herself as she set the kettle on the stove “He can take care of himself. He’s not called the Lord of Bloodshed for nothing”

But that feeling of dread stayed with her, from the time it took for the water to boil to how long it took for Nesta to realize that she had been so far away in her thoughts that her eggs were burning.

“Oh fuck” she cursed out loud quickly turning the oven off and opening the kitchen’s window to disperse the smoke.

She was still cursing when a deep male voice came from behind her.

“Since when did Nesta Archeron know how to swear? Those are not appropriate words for a lady”

Nesta turned around to see Cassian leaning against the doorframe, an amused grin on his face.

“Should not a lady always aim to expand her vocabulary?” she inquired, arching an eyebrow.

That made Cassian laugh, a mischievous glint on his eyes that eased that feeling of dread in Nesta’ stomach.

“I didn’t see you arriving back yesterday” she nonchalantly said, placing the tea on the table and saving the less burnt pieces of eggs for her to eat.

The lack of an answer from Cassian told Nesta enough. He had not returned.

“Am I going to have to tie you to your damn bed?” she threatened “Esmée said you needed to rest”

“I would gladly let you tie me up sweetheart, although I would rather be the one tying you” Cassian’s voice dropped an octave, and Nesta had to fight back a blush.

“I am not joking you pervert” but her voice lacked the amount of spite she wanted it to have.

Cauldron, to picture Cassian touching her while she lay helpless, giving him full control over her…. Nesta was not one to let others take rein in any kind of situation, especially sex. But to have Cassian being the one in control…. making her go mad with his big and calloused hands, that deep voice saying sweet temptations and dirty promises in her ear… it was enough to make her toes curl.

His answering grin was enough to say he had noticed the change in her scent.

“Wound a bit tight these days Nessie?” he walked in her direction, and the need to taste him, to feel him against her skin….

How long had it been since she had last pleasured herself? She had not bedded a male since she had come to Windhaven, and even touching herself was a no go once Kaelin started living with them.

Cauldron, she had to stop thinking about that.

But the closer Cassian got, the stronger his scent was, that mix of eucalyptus and musk almost making Nesta groan in frustration.

“Get your head out of the gutter Cassian” she managed to say, not giving him the satisfaction of moving away from him, little to no distance between their bodies.

That infuriating smirk appeared again, as always making her blood boil, from either desire or anger at him she did not know.

However, upon close inspection, Nesta could notice how dark the shadows beneath his eyes were. How his hair was more messed up then usual and the lack of shaving more noticeable.

“As if I was going to take such an awful looking male to my bed” Nesta snorted.

“You need to rest Cassian, you cannot keep going like this” she added softly, and maybe the use of his name — something she rarely did — made him see that she was not joking. That she truly was worried about him.

“I am a warrior Ness, we are trained to go days into battle with barely enough sleep” he said, daring to grip her fingers tenderly.

“It does not mean you can punish yourself by not arriving to help Kaelin sooner” she pleaded with her eyes “ It was not your fault. And if you keep thinking like that you will have to blame me too.”

Cassian only squeezed her fingers once before letting go of her hand, a sad smile on his face.

“Eat something more than those burnt eggs or else you will faint. And remember that you have the week off to rest”

Nesta opened her mouth to retort that he should stop being such a headstrong brute and just fucking sleep but Cassian was gone before she could unleash her temper on him.

~•~

Kaelin was awake by the time Nesta had come back to her room.

And the young illyrian was smart enough to keep silent at Nesta’s murder glare.

“You, young lady, are grounded” Nesta declared as she sat on the chair, the picture of grace and calmness despite the blazing fire echoing in her veins.

She directed her powers towards the dying fireplace, silencing the flames with ease now. Nesta felt smug satisfaction at the fact that she was controlling her powers with more facility, although she still had troubles maintaining its constant flow during her training with Cassian.

“I am what” Kaelin croaked out, her throat probably sore after all she had cried and having not spoken for almost a day.

“Grounded. As in you messed up and so I am punishing you in an educational way” Nesta’s voice softened and she clasped Kaelin’s hand “It was very brave of you to shoulder everything alone in fear of putting me, Emerie and even Cassian in danger.”

Kaelin sat a little taller, no wonder feeling pride at Nesta’s words.

“However, it was also very stupid of you, even more given that your killing powers manifested and you thought it better to not tell a single soul about it” Nesta added seriously “And that’s why I think you are going to be one of the most fierce warriors in our history. The best of them tend to be the most reckless and self sacrificing.”

Cassian’s face came to her mind, remembering how he had lay his life for her more than once. How as much as he was intelligent he was also selfless. How he did not hesitate to put his family’s life first and before even his own.

And even though Nesta felt pride and awe at his attitude, she also felt fear for his life.

He walked too close to Death for her liking.

“Next time, do not feel afraid and trust me. Trust Cassian. I am sure he would have helped you, no questions asked” she gave Kaelin’s hand a reassuring squeeze “Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am” Kaelin answered, an embarrassing blush blooming on her cheeks.

When Nesta had made sure Kaelin had eaten all of the food piled on her plate — Nesta had only heated some pre-made food Cassian had already cooked, not wanting to repeat the burnt food event – she announced what the young illyrian grounding would be.

“No flying?!” Kaelin shouted.

“No flying”

“You can’t do that!” she argued, completely exasperated.

“Not only I can but I did exactly that. Esmée said you need one week of rest and that is what you are going to do” Kaelin opened her mouth to protest but Nesta beat her to it “You almost broke two ribs, no way you are going to either be flying or training so soon. If that stupid Devlon says something he will have to deal with me and Cassian about it.”

“But…”

“No buts. After your one week of rest is up and you can go back to training you will walk there. No flying.”

“You want me to walk back and forth?!” Kaelin looked as if Nesta had just told her that goats could fly.

“No flying. For a month”

“A month?!”

“Want me to make it two?” Nesta inquired, fighting back a grin at Kaelin’s hopeless face.

“No” she grumbled back, and Nesta had never seen Kaelin look so much as a thirteen year old as now.

Despite the fact that she was quite cheerful, the young girl usually portrayed a serious expression on training and their conversations, having matured earlier than most because of her need for survival. Nesta wanted Kaelin to be able to enjoy life to its fullest, without the constant fear of having her secret exposed.

She found herself wishing Kaelin could live normally as a girl and still be able to keep on training. But change took time, especially for a kind as old and traditional as the Illyrians and Fae.

“How about you show me your penmanship? You will have plenty of time to practice now” Nesta said, trying to distract her thoughts of the ‘what ifs’ of the future.

~•~

“What in the Cauldron are you doing?” Cassian asked, coming out of the kitchen.

“Preparing to sleep, as normal people usually do” Nesta answered, arranging the blankets on the couch. She could not possibly let Kaelin sleep anywhere but her bed given the kid’ state, although she had in vain tried to argue against Nesta’s decision.

“You are not sleeping on the damn couch” he argued, picking her pillow.

“Well, Kaelin is already passed out on the bed after I gave him the painkillers Esmée left, and no way I’m making him sleep here” she snapped, snatching back her pillow.

“My bed is perfectly available” he retorted “You sleep there and I will sleep here”

He tried to take the pillow from her but Nesta took a step back, snarling in his direction.

“Look at yourself Cassian! You haven’t had a proper night of sleep in weeks!! You sleep on your bed and I will sleep here!”

“Gods, you’re such a stubborn woman!! I may be just a lowly bastard but even I have some decency to not let a female sleep on the couch while I sleep on the bed!!”

“You are not sleeping on the couch” she repeated.

“Well, you are also not sleeping there so I guess the only option is for us to share a bed!” Cassian practically shouted back.

“Then I guess we will be sharing your bed then!” Nesta found herself agreeing, both to hers and Cassian’ surprise.

However, now there was no coming back. Nesta would not give Cassian the satisfaction of seeing her flustered over him.

So she grabbed her pillow and left the living room, walking towards his room and not looking back, hesitating only once she stopped in front of his bedroom’s door.

“You may open it” Cassian quietly said behind her, and Nesta tentatively turned the doorknob.

She had never entered Cassian’s room before. Not that it was that different in size from hers, but she supposed the decoration made all the difference.

Apart from a bed big enough to accomodate wings, what most surprised Nesta was Cassian’s shelf, which not only held weapons such as daggers and knives — she guessed there were even more weapons stashed somewhere in his drawer, armoire or under the bed — but a small private collection of books.

She had seen some books in the living room, and felt a tinge of shame to think those were the only ones Cassian had. Running her hand over the books’ spine, she could see they had been well read, and that Cassian took great care with them.

“Those are military books” he informed softly, his hazel eyes following her every move “You could say I am quite attached to them, that’s why they are here instead of on top of the living room’s fireplace.”

“This is not a military book” Nesta said in the same voice tone, taking one from its place and reading the title.

‘King Arthur and His Knights of the Round Table’

“I would not have pegged you for a romance reader” she teased, recalling his own words from when she had first arrived at the House of Wind.

“It is not a romance” he argued “It is a story full of blood and fights and dangerous quests for glory and—”

“And Guinevere is just a fish then?” Nesta inquired, returning the book to its rightful place.

Cassian’s only answer was a low grumble and Nesta could swear he was sulking because she was right.

“Just go to sleep and forget about this” Cassian said, awkwardly gesturing towards his bed.

Spine straight as a sword, Nesta pushed the covers back and fluffled her pillow before trying to get comfortable.

It was too much. Too much Cassian. Too much of that intoxicating scent that made her caged heart threaten to explode and pour out all that she felt for him into the open. She had no idea how she was going to be able to sleep, even more when she heard a rustling sound and saw Cassian drop his clothes in a chair, staying only in his undershorts.

“What do you think you are doing?” she exclaimed, a bit breathless as she eyed his tan and muscled torso, failing to hide how seeing him like that affected her.

“Would you rather have me sleeping naked sweetheart? Because that is my type of sleeping garments” he winked at her, and Nesta wondered if she could suffocate him with her pillow.

“But for the sake of your poor nerves I will put on proper clothes xe r-atá” he added, slipping on some cotton pants that hang so low on his hips that Nesta had to bite her tongue to not comment on the fact that it did nothing to calm her poor nerves.

Cassian turned off the light settling beside her on the bed and keeping a respectful distance from her side.

Nesta tightly closed her eyes and prayed to sleep come soon. Yet she kept tossing and turning around, not finding a comfortable position.

“I thought you wanted me to rest Ness” Cassian’s amused voice interrupted the silence.

“Well, it’s not my fault I cannot find a comfortable position and am feeling cold despite the lit fireplace” she turned in his direction, trying to find his face in the dark “Don’t you ever feel cold?”

“I am quite used to Illyria’s weather, and maybe living for so long in a piss poor tent outside made me immune to it” he said with a hint of sadness “You should have told me sooner that you were cold. Wait a minute.”

Nesta’s eyes slowly got used to the dark and she could faintly see Cassian moving towards his wardrobe and returning with a huge fur blanket.

“Warmer?” he asked, tucking it so tenderly around her that her heart skipped a beat.

“Yes, but….”

“Still not comfortable?”

She felt her cheeks getting hot in embarrassment and thanked the gods Cassian could not see it because of the dark.

“Can I—” Cassian cleared his throat and Nesta felt him move a little in her direction.

“Yes'' she laid utterly still, not daring even to breath as Cassian moved and embraced her, his arm acting as a pillow for her head.

“It’s just body heat” he murmured, his breath hitting her forehead.

“Just body heat” she agreed, eyelids suddenly heavy with sleep.

“Aundê aicô, xe nhia” Cassian whispered, Nesta’s soft breathing letting him know she was fast asleep.

•

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rhysismydaddy · 5 years

Text

CPR Training (Nessian)

Nesta groaned at her phone as she reread the email from Velaris University Administration. “Before graduation, every student must complete CPR training in the auditorium. Sign up here.”

Why admin felt the urge to wait until 26 days before graduation (not that she was counting or anything), Nesta had no idea. She clicked the link and was unsurprised when the only date available was this afternoon... for two hours? What the fuck were they going to teach her that would take two hours?

She had shit to do, finals to study for, and a comfy bed calling her name. All these reasons combined, and the fact that it was hot as hell outside, put Nesta firmly in a foul mood as she shoved open the auditorium doors three hours later. She flopped into a seat near the edge of the sea of chairs and propped her head in her hand, closing her eyes. No one was here; she was early enough she’d have to wait around for ten minutes for people to show up.

Or so she thought.

She frowned as she heard the door smack open, then frowned further as heavy, booted footsteps brought the intruder closer. Then entirely too close. The stranger had the audacity to thump into the seat next to Nesta.

Without opening her eyes, she hissed, “Out of all the fucking chairs in this place, you have to sit in the one next to me and intrude on my personal space?”

The stranger snorted but made no move to vacate her space. “I just figured you came early to ask your instructor some questions. No need to be grumpy.” His voice was deep and surprisingly young, especially for an instructor.

This peaked her interest. She opened her eyes to see if the image she’d constructed of him in her mind was at all accurate. Nesta was surprised to be looking into deep golden eyes a second later. Even more surprised that they were mere inches from her own.

Deep golden and lined with thick, dark eyelashes, they were hands-down the most beautiful eyes Nesta had ever seen. But she was too annoyed with life to let herself notice, let alone care. She knew he was waiting for her to back away and move, so she decided to not give him the satisfaction and got even closer. Not that you really want to move away. She ignored the thought and focused on what he’d said instead.

“You look too young to be teaching me anything.”

“Baby, I could teach you all kinds of things,” he whispered, invading her space further by pushing her hair behind her ear.

Why, why, was Nesta so tempted to let him? He was completely gorgeous, with his muscled shoulders and tan skin, and that full, distracting lip that she wanted to pull between her tee- Get it together you stupid idiot! she screamed at herself.

She shoved him away and muttered, “You’re repulsive.”

“Don’t lie to yourself. But to answer your question that wasn’t really a question, yes I am teaching the course today.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes.

“I graduated two years ago and started working as a EMT for the fire department, so I’m certified to train people in CPR,” he leaned back in his chair and threw his boots on the chair in front of him.

“You’re a fire fighter?” Why did that make him so much sexier??

“Mmhm,” he murmured, as if he knew what she was thinking.

Oh, fuck this.

“Wow,” she breathed, dropping her voice to a seductive tone and putting a hand on his toned forearm. “So you, like, save people for a living? Isn’t that dangerous?”

He grinned, flashing annoyingly white teeth at her, and threw an arm around the back of her chair. “Danger is my middle name.” Nesta repressed an eye roll. “Speaking of names, what’s yours?”

Oh, what a line. “Seriously?” she laughed, going back to her normal, non-slutty, voice. “You really believed that? Let me tell you something, Mr. Fire Fighter, your profession is really not that impressive. There are far more profitable ways of getting paid to slide down a pole all day.”

With that, she grabbed her bag and shoved past him into the hall. She’d spend the rest of the time before the class in the bathroom, far away from him.

When she came back, right before the class started, she was not surprised to see Ianthe, Velaris’s class bimbo, sitting next to the beautiful stranger, laughing loudly at something he’d said.

She slunk into a seat on the other side of the auditorium. She could feel his gaze on her, despite Ianthe desperately trying to get his attention, but ignored him and stared at her blank phone screen. More people were filing in, so the man politely excused himself and went up to the stage. Two more men were standing up there, looking at Ianthe with looks of disgust on their beautiful faces.

When the man she’d been talking to joined them, Nesta was struck by how similar they all looked. They were all tall with dark hair, exotic faces, and extremely tones bodies. They could be cousins, maybe even brothers.

When the campus clock started to chime noon, they got started.

“Hey guys, today we’ll be teaching you three different things: what to do if someone starts choking, adult CPR, and infant CPR. I’m Rhysand, this is Azriel,” he pointed to a classically beautiful man on his left, “and this is Cassian.”

Cassian.

The name rang through her. He locked eyes with her and winked not-so-subtly, making her blush slightly.

She could feel Ianthe shooting daggers her way, but she could care less about that piece of trash.

Rhysand split the auditorium up by section and instructed them where to go. Of course, of course, she was starting with choking. With Cassian.

She walked up to his corner of the room, already scowling. She didn’t want to be here in the first place, let alone deal with a stupid, arrogant man the entire time.

“So, like Rhys said, I’m Cassian, and I’ll be talking about what to do if someone around you starts choking. Has anyone ever experienced choking?” he asked, looking at her with a smirk.

Oh, for the love of the gods. Did he have to make everything sexual?

A few people raised their hands. Cassian started to go over the basics about how to know if someone is choking, to call 911 immediately, and Nesta found herself staring at him and zoning out completely. He had to be at least 6′3″, maybe taller-

“Don’t stick your fingers in their mouth,” he looked at her, “no matter how bad you want to.”

She rolled her eyes and he smiled.

“You might push whatever they’re choking on further down their throat. Now, for how to actually help save someone. Can I get a volunteer to help me out?”

“Fuck no,” Nesta muttered, trying to push her way toward the back of the group.

No one stepped forward, and Nesta was halfway successful in her plan to hide behind one of her classmates when Cassian exclaimed, “You want to volunteer? Great!”

He was pointing straight at her, that stupid smile lighting up his face.

“I didn’t volunteer,” she said hatefully, ignoring his outreached hand.

He grabbed her hand anyway and hauled her in front of everyone. “Funny, I heard you say something. Introduce yourself to the group, dear.”

Prick. Such a prick.

“My name is Nesta.”

Cassian gave her a “I won, you lost” smile before addressing the group.

“So, say I’m on a date my beautiful girlfriend, Nesta,” he raised her hand, “and she starts to choke, although I seriously doubt that would ever be the case.” I’m going to kill him. “The first thing I’m going to need to do is move behind her.”

She felt him stand behind her, much closer than he needed to. Then I’m going to place my hands here-” he tried to reach around her and she planted a firm elbow in his rib cage.

Cassian just laughed softly and slipped his arms around her, both hands resting on her stomach.

“-and make a fist at the top of her stomach. Then I’d want to pull in and up.”

He pulled her tight against him, and Nesta hated herself for slightly losing her breath as all of him pressed into her.

His fist pressed into her stomach and he damn near lifted her off the ground as he demonstrated the maneuver. “I’d do this about five times-” he pulled her into him again and again, “-and hopefully she’ll stop choking.”

Despite him trying to save her from “choking,” Nesta found herself completely out of breath when he stopped.

Cassian moved around her to her side and threw his thick arm around her shoulders. “Now, everyone grab a partner and try it. Don’t be shy,” he called out, “you could meet the love of your life today.” He squeezed her shoulder and wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Nesta threw his arm away from her and gave him a vulgar gesture before heading toward the bathroom, her new found safe haven.

He reached out and grabbed her hand before she could leave, though. “Where do you think you’re going, Nesta?”

“Bathroom.”

“Nesta, dear, do you have some condition I need to be made aware of? You were in there for fifteen minutes not too long ago.” She wanted to punch that smug look off of his face. “Besides, I won’t be able to graduate you from this course if you don’t demonstrate that you can save someone from choking.”

She sighed through her nose and tried not to slap him. “You’re such a prick.”

“Oh, don’t be so negative. Since everyone already has a partner, you get to be with me,” he was practically glowing with joy.

Nesta walked behind him, figuring she’d squeeze the living shit out of him and get this over with. “Cassian, how am I supposed to Heimlich you? You’re massive.”

Before she could even regret what she’d said, he turned around and slipped his arms around her shoulders with a cool grin. “You have no idea, Nesta.”

“Stop saying my name like that,” she muttered, trying to ignore the pleasant feeling of his heavy arms around her.

“Like what?” he whispered in her ear, leaning down to her level.

She was about to respond when a new sensation shot through her body and made her lose her train of thought. Cassian had taken her ear lobe between his teeth and she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, around the nasty thoughts of where else she wanted him to bite.

Nesta shoved him back, panting for entirely no reason. He read the look in her eyes and for the first time all day, he wasn’t giving her that insufferable, cocky grin.

He cleared his throat and didn’t say anything at all as he extended his hand.

Nesta! What are you doing?? The logical part of her brain was going crazy as the stupid part allowed her to slip her hand into his and nod at his unspoken offer. No one had ever affected her so much, let alone someone she’d known for an hour.

He pulled her down the hallway and into a dark classroom, not even hesitating before crashing into her. His lips pressed into hers and he kicked the door closed as he pressed her up against the wall.

His body was tight against hers as her arms wrapped around his neck, fingers slipping into his hair and pulling. She wanted him to be closer, so much closer.

Apparently, Cassian was having similar thoughts. His hands found her hips and he hoisted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

He slipped his tongue into her mouth at the same time he pressed his hips into hers, and Nesta groaned into his mouth. She ran her hands over his back, setting around his neck and shoulders. His were under her ass, supporting her, and he squeezed slightly as he moved his lips down to her neck.

His teeth scrapped across her collarbone and she released a slight whimper. Am I really going to fuck some stranger in a classroom? she thought to herself. Cassian chose that moment to pull her earlobe between his teeth again; Nesta saw stars as she thought Yes, yes I am.

Her fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt and she’d just started to life it over his head when someone outside the door banged a fist against the wood.

Nesta yelped in surprise and Cassian jumped so fast he almost dropped her.

“Cassian, you dumb fuck. Get your ass out here.” Azriel’s voice sounded through the door.

He made no move to put her down.

“Go out with me,” he whispered, using a hand to push her hair behind her ear.

For the first time in her adult life, Nesta didn’t even object. They had a connection, and she wouldn’t be stupid enough to lie to herself about it.

“Okay,” she whispered back, kissing him softly. “But only if you let me leave this stupid class early.”

He laughed soundly, letting her slide down his body to the floor. She moved toward the door and gasped as Cassian smacked her ass and said, “We’ll finish this later, baby. After dinner.”

“Prick,” she replied, hiding her smile and closing the door in his face.

She couldn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day, stupidly waiting for the next time she got to see her sexy firefighter.

#acomaf #acotar #acowar #acotar fanfiction #cassian #nesta #nessian fanfiction #nessian

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anamelesstraveler · 6 years

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Bodhi Rook’s Guide to Love

A SniperPilot fanfic. Rated G.

Complete | 2,521 words

Ten Mistakes that will Lead You to Winter Fun, Love, and Laughter (via Meddling Sisters and Nosy Coworkers)

By the end of the day, Bodhi will count ten mistakes leading up to kissing Detective Cassian Andor.

This story includes PINING (so much pining), modern AU, detective Cassian Andor, Mechanic Bodhi Rook, and the two of them being stuck on a ski lift.

By the end of the day, Bodhi will count ten mistakes leading up to kissing Detective Cassian Andor.

Mistake #1 had been agreeing to go with Jyn for a long weekend at this ski resort without question, which Bodhi can tell you is never a wise idea. His sister is far too clever for her own good, and innocent offers for a vacation are never actually innocent. Mistake #2 had been rising to her challenge when she’d, oh-so-casually, mentioned she’d invited her coworkers Cassian Andor and Kay Tuesso as well.

Bodhi isn’t sure where exactly mistake #3 had been made, perhaps somewhere between calling his sister on her underhanded, completely unsubtle schemes (only making it worse for himself) and not immediately protesting when his and Cassian’s separate rooms “mysteriously” turned into a double. Mistakes #4 through #7 have been each time Bodhi accepted Jyn shoving the two of them together for activities or at meals with only a mild reluctance.

(There had been the sledding the first day. And the ice sculpture exhibition in the village below the resort that evening. And Bodhi “suddenly” being the only one who was willing to accompany Cassian down to the lodge’s rec room. And, most painful of all, discovering that Cassian had also been told about the hot tub on the glassed in balcony at the back of the lodge - that one Bodhi almost hadn’t survived.)

So when the ski lift shudders to a creaking stop in the middle of its ascent on day three, Bodhi only closes his eyes, and mentally counts this as mistake #8, and turns to Cassian with a gentle wince. “That… doesn’t sound good,” he chuckles nervously.

He watches the way Cassian’s jaw clenches, that and the slight pinched look around his eyes the only indication of unease. He leans forward a few scant inches, peering over the safety rail. Several meters below them it’s only snow and other resort goers on the slope. “Maybe they just had a delay with someone getting on,” Cassian suggests.

Bodhi nods. “Could be.” They sit back in silence for several seconds, and then minutes. The lift doesn’t start back up again. The seat ahead of them on the line shifts, the passengers peering around each side of the bench. The passengers on the downward line opposite of them are starting to do the same - not that any of them can see anything from their position in the middle of the lift.

“I’m sure it will start up soon,” Bodhi reassures. Who he’s reassuring, he’s not sure. It might be both of them.

The ski lift doesn’t start up soon. Bodhi watches at least fifteen minutes tick by on his watch, his heart sinking with every passing one. It’s not the cold that’s the problem, even if Bodhi shrinks back against the seat to get out of the wind - they’re bundled up pretty well. It’s not even the height.

It’s his horrible, inescapable crush on Cassian Andor that’s the problem.

It’s truly the most unfortunate thing in Bodhi’s life at the moment, and he’s helpless to stop it. In fact, it only seems to be getting worse the longer he knows the man. But what’s Bodhi supposed to do, when even the smallest of Cassian’s smiles lights up his whole face like that - makes his eyes sparkle just so? What’s he supposed to do when that lock of hair slips from behind his ear when he’s concentrating on something? Or today, when that little girl had slipped on her skis and Cassian had rushed over to help her up, all kind eyes and gentle hands?

When they’d first been introduced, Bodhi had thought of Cassian as solemn and stern. And while Bodhi can still see that solemness about him, he’s also discovered the relaxed warmth of the other man and…

Look, Bodhi doesn’t stand a chance, alright? He’s hopelessly, disgustingly in love with Cassian Andor, who is light years out of his league and only barely knows Bodhi exists, and only then because he’s Jyn’s partner.

Bodhi lets out a quiet sigh, his breath billowing out in the chilly air, and slumps back against the seat. He lets his hand slide off the railing and down beside him, and jolts when his gloved fingers come into contact with Cassian’s hand, rather than the wood and plastic of their lift. The seat rocks with the force of his flinch. “Oh, I’m sorry--” he stops, the flash of fear in Cassian’s eyes and the way his other hand clutches at the rails bringing him up short. Instinctively, his hand finds Cassian’s again. He can’t bring himself to feel bad about it. Not when he’s never seen a look like that on Cassian’s face before. “You okay?”

Cassian’s eyes linger on Bodhi’s gloved hand on top of his, but he doesn’t comment on it. Which is… good, right? It’s a sign that Cassian at least appreciates the gesture; that the thought of sharing a completely innocent touch with Bodhi doesn’t disgust him.

(Bodhi tells himself not to think about the feel of Cassian’s hand under the thick glove. The tiniest trace of warmth he imagines he can feel. Don’t think about it, Bodhi. Don’t be that pathetic.)

“I’m… okay,” Cassian says finally. But there’s a tremor of uncertainty under it. “I’m just not good with heights.”

Bodhi’s heart clenches in his chest. “You’re afraid of heights? Cassian, you didn’t have to come up with me…”

“No, I’m not--” Cassian releases his tight grip on the safety bar, and reaches up to tuck a stray lock of his long hair back up into his hat. It’s a nervous gesture this time. “I wanted to come up. I’m usually okay. I was okay just sitting here during the ride up. But then… the lift stopping and the swaying…” He looks a little ill just saying it, and Bodhi gently squeezes his hand. “After I fell, you know…”

Bodhi does know. The first time he met Cassian Andor was because he went to visit Jyn at the hospital, and gave in to her demands to wheel her down the hall to see Cassian. Jyn had walked out of the warehouse that day with a dislocated shoulder, a busted knee, and Krennic in handcuffs. Cassian had taken a nasty fall off one of the catwalks and survived with three fractured vertebrae, a fractured hip, and a broken leg. The fact that Cassian had recovered from his injuries even half as well as he did is, frankly, a miracle.

“I get it,” Bodhi says. He twists in his seat, taking care not to rock the car too much. Cassian’s eyes still keep drifting to the space between the safety bar and the seat. “Hey. Look at me?”

After a moment, Cassian obeys.

This… this is definitely mistake #9. Because Bodhi isn’t used to being the sole focus of Cassian’s gaze. He’s accustomed to seeing the intensity of the man’s warm, dark eyes - looking on something that isn’t him. A case file. A piece of tech. A steely, disapproving glare at Kay. But… not like this. His breath lodges in his throat, and he feels overheated despite the winter chill.

‘Don’t,’ Bodhi tells himself. ‘Don’t. Don’t think about kissing him. This is not the time.’ If he wants to accomplish that, he should probably stop looking at Cassian’s mouth.

Bodhi clears his throat, wetting his chapped lips. “We could talk about something? That’s not, you know, being stuck up here.”

Cassian’s head tips endearingly. “That… that would help. About what, then? About my cases?”

Bodhi rolls his eyes. “No. No work talk. Work talk is officially banned by our agreement remember? Let’s… let’s talk about something else. Like what we like doing outside of work.”

“That means you can’t talk about anything car or plane related,” Cassian counters, arching a brow at him.

“I like things other than my cars and my plane, thanks.”

“Oh yeah?” The challenge can’t even be called subtle anymore.

“Yeah,” Bodhi laughs, squaring himself up. “I… I like a lot of things.” You. “Um. I do metalwork. I take spare parts--”

“No cars.”

“They’re car parts sometimes, yeah, smart ass. Let me finish.” Bodhi can’t bring himself to even be annoyed when Cassian laughs gently, that smile lighting up his face again. He still looks a little nervous, pointedly keeping his face turned away from the great void of air in front of them. He’s turned in his seat now too, the two of them leaning closer to center to be heard over the occasional breeze and the sound of the skiers below. “I turn them into windchimes and mobiles and fountains. Statues and stuff.”

“You do?” Cassian asks, softer now. “Do you sell them?”

“Yeah, some of them.”

“D’you have pictures?”

“Y-Yeah, on my phone. I can… show you when we get back to the lodge tonight?”

“I’d like that,” Cassian says, in that same tone. Bodhi’s face heats.

“So… and you, then? What secret hobby does Detective Cassian Andor have?”

Cassian’s nose wrinkles. “Don’t say it like that. I’m not anything special.”

“I think you are,” Bodhi insists, and immediately wants to kick himself. Especially when Cassian’s eyes go wide - like the compliment is something unthinkable. Bodhi doesn’t even know where to begin with that. “You are. Um. But anyway, what’s your… thing?”

“I… cook?”

Bodhi leans a little closer. “Really?”

The man nods. “I find it soothing. I have this book of recipes that was my mother’s. She was a brilliant cook. The recipes are all modified and marked up by her with these little notes. It, ah, lets me feel close to her.” At least now Cassian doesn’t seem to be focusing on the heights anymore. His smile is almost shy, maybe a little sad. Bodhi clenches his hands to keep them still, to keep from reaching out.

“That’s amazing, Cassian,” he says honestly.

“You think so?” Those lovely eyes glance back up at him through dark lashes. “I could make something for you, sometime.” And it turns out that Bodhi doesn’t have to restrain himself, because Cassian is the one who reaches out, hesitating for only a moment before laying a hand over Bodhi’s.

Bodhi stares at it, and then up at Cassian. Who is watching him expectantly. “Wait. What?”

Cassian averts his gaze, biting his lip almost nervously, before Bodhi can actually see him steeling himself. “I’d like to have dinner with you, Bodhi. If you’d like that?”

His mouth drops open, nothing coming out of it for a few seconds too long. And then he sputters. “Did-Did Jyn put you up to this?”

Cassian, who has been looking more guarded with every passing second, pauses. “Wait. What?”

“Jyn! She’s been-- she’s been doing this the whole time. Teasing me about my massive crush on her partner. Making sure we’re both on this trip. The thing with the rooms. Throwing us together everyday. Did she tell you to go for it? Because… because I don’t need a pity date, Cassian. I could just be your friend if--” A gloved hand covers his mouth.

“Bodhi…” Cassian says.

“Mmph?”

“...I thought Jyn was making fun of me for my ‘massive crush’ on her brother.” He draws his hand away, and Bodhi knows he must be gaping like a fish, because he smiles. “You’re not going to give me a pity date, right?”

“It wouldn’t be pity,” Bodhi whispers.

And this is mistake #10. Because this time, Cassian’s smile is nothing short of stunning and Bodhi is never going to be able to come back from this. This moment, here, stuck on this stupid ski lift in the middle of winter, is going to mark a turning point in Bodhi’s life. Before he fell in love with Cassian Andor, and after. They’re tucked close, sharing warmth high above a world that has all but fallen away. Cassian shivers as the wind brushes by them, or maybe it’s from something else - something to do with Bodhi’s gaze dipping to his lips. And… isn’t that just the most amazing thing?

The kiss takes Bodhi by surprise, but he’s not sure which of them actually closes the gap. Cassian’s beard scrapes against his own. His lips are chapped. Bodhi can feel the warm puff of his breath across his face. And it’s perfect. They break apart with a mingled sigh, but Bodhi can’t bear the thought of pulling away. Cassian, it seems, can’t either, because he brings a gloved hand up to Bodhi’s cheek. The slick material of his ski glove is… absolutely absurd, and Bodhi breathes out a laugh. “Did that just happen?” he asks.

Gloved fingers clumsily trace along his jawline. “It did,” Cassian remarks with a note of awe.

God. Bodhi lifts a hand to do the same, curling his fingers in the folds of Cassian’s scarf. “Can it happen again? Who knows how long we’ll be up here.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad anymore. Just as long as you we don’t rock the car.”

Bodhi can’t help himself, and arches a brow suggestively. He opens his mouth, searching for a suitable innuendo for that, and is promptly tugged forward again.

“Don’t say a word,” Cassian laughs against his mouth.

“Wouldn’t think of it,” Bodhi says, and tips his head for a better angle. And in fact, after that, he doesn’t think about much else. Nothing other than the fact that if he were allowed, he’d keeping kissing Cassian and never stop. Even around all of their winter gear and the fact that he actually can’t feel the chill of Cassian’s skin through his gloves.

“Oi, lovebirds!”

“Damnit, Jyn,” they both hiss in tandem. They reluctantly pull away, peering back over the rail. (Cassian keeps his grip on Bodhi’s coat as he does. It’s such a little thing, but Bodhi give his wrist a reassuring squeeze anyway.) Below them on the slope, standing along the course partition, are Jyn and Kay. The pair waves up at them, and even from up here Bodhi can see the downright wicked smiles on their faces.

“You’re looking cozy!” Jyn shouts.

Bodhi lets out a miserable groan. “Why me?” Beside him, Cassian hums in equally miserable agreement. “You’re not funny!” Bodhi calls back at her. “What are you doing down there?”

“Waiting for you two! Though I’m not sure why. Might as well leave you two up there to finally work out that sexual tension.”

Kay steps up beside her. “We heard the lift will be fixed shortly.”

A horrible thought occurs to him. “JYN, you didn’t do this, right?”

“Me?!” comes Jyn’s indignant yelp. Too indignant. His eyes narrow. “I am a police consultant, in the presence of a decorated police detective.” She gestures to Kay, who nods resolutely.

“She did it,” Bodhi sighs.

Cassian bites back a smile. “She definitely did.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll yell at her later.”

“Don’t.” Cassian shifts closer, slipping an arm around Bodhi’s waist. “We’ll get even.”

“I like the way you think.”

-----------------------------------------

END.

#sniperpilot winter #SniperPilot #Bassian #CassianBodhi #Star Wars #fanfic #Let me weave you a Dream #fic: Bodhi Rook's Guide to Love

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pingou7 · 7 years

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A car, two cops and a stardust — a RebelCaptain road trip fic

by @pingou7 pingou for @thestarbirdfromtheashes Starbird

(aka the Road trip fic Diego Luna’s filmography made me write)

Notes : I blame the RebelCaptain fandom (especially you, @runakvaed) as well as Diego Luna's movies and his brotherhood with Gael Garcia Bernal, let that be said. This is based on a prompt given by @thestarbirdfromtheashes, so I dedicate this story to her.

Read and enjoy, and please consider leaving me a few words.

Summary:

As the dusty roads criss under Kes Dameron's old car, Cassian Andor lets the wind mess with his hair through the open window. Dust, sunshine, laughter, its easy to recapture the taste of days long gone.

(...)

At a gas station near Corpus Chirsti, when they climb back after taking a piss, both jump out of their skins as a random brunette, eyes thunderous, hisses dangerously from the backseat :

"Just pretend I'm not here."

More on AO3 (or under the cut)

Part 1

Kes is singing slightly out of tune "Quiero qué me quieras", his fingers tapping the stirring wheel rhythmically and it's easy to forget the decade and half that has passed since their first road trip, freshly eighteen in the mountains of Mexico. Only there's less cigarettes and better booze — if quite the same amount of junk food.

Shara didn't want to go with them, so they were told to have their Buddy time, since she couldn't handle them getting all cranky and shit, her son being enough already. So Cassian handed his life's keys to Kay, and both kissed her goodbye before they hit the road.

At a gas station near Corpus Chirsti, when they climb back after taking a piss, both jump out of their skins as a random brunette, eyes thunderous, hisses dangerously from the backseat :

"Just pretend I'm not here."

She is dirty, has a split lip that is still oozing blood, but her green eyes are burning with the wilderness of desperation. Kes frowns, but before the guys can say anything, people pass in front of them — three men who have a few nasty bruises on their faces, one with a baseball bat, a female cashier and a cop — and inside she has crouched down between the seats.

The group looks like they're going out for blood — hers perhaps — so when Cassian signals silently to Kes to start the car and get out of here, he does.

Several minutes pass in silence, until Cassian tells the intruder that the coast is clear. Kes tells her to put on the seatbelt or get out (fatherhood made him a bit stricter on security rules) and they hear the telling click in return. Outside the world is still moving but you could cut the air with a knife, until Cassian feels more than she hears her exhaling her thanks. Eventually curiosity gets the best of Dameron, and he addresses the stranger as the car goes on the highway up to San Diego as if she didn't disrupt their plan:

"Even if you're not highjacking our car and just want to hide from law, you might have chosen a better one."

No acknowledgement from the backseat at all, but he sees her looking at them from the review mirror, so Cassian elaborates, much to his brother's amusement:

"For starters, the thing is a shit, Dameron here is only keeping it running for sentimental value. Also, his wife kept the proper car."

"You're the one to talk, you left your decrepit convertible under Kay's custody," Kes grumbles.

"I didn't have much choice," the woman snaps guardedly, their usual banter doing nothing to put her at ease.

"I suppose not, but then you didn't know we're both cops, did you?"

"Shit, stop the car, I gotta go," the woman panics, the hand already on the handle.

Cassian doesn't know why he turns to her, reaching out across the seat to touch her wrist. From the corner of his eye, he sees Kes rising an eyebrow, but there's a tingling feeling that makes the skin of his arm dance.

"Listen here, we're cops, but we're also going on vacation. If you're on the run, we won't report you. We'll leave you in San Diego if you wish, no question asked."

"You will?" she asks dubiously, freeing her arm from his grasp.

"We will?" Kes echoes in Spanish.

"Yes," Cassian replies sharply, glaring at his so called best friend until he nods. "C'mon, she needs help. How many girls have you known to pop up in your backseat?"

"Usually, they're relatively undressed. And far more eager to please than this one."

"Don't let Shara hear of that, Cabrón, or Poe's gonna be an only child for sure."

"Who says she's not aware already? I may be married, but you're the one living like a monk. At one time you knew how to use the restricted space of a backseat."

"Not with each other I hope," the girl chimes in dryly, while Cassian feels the tips of his ears go hot with rising blood.

"Sorry to disappoint," Kes replies with a smirk, "but we're brothers in all but blood, no that you have any business knowing that, Miss Pretend-I-don't-exist."

She purses her lips, and tries to get comfortable. Not the talkative type then. Cassian lets the radio fill the silence and tries to shut his brain off. Surely they ought to hear more about her, gather information? They are bloody detectives, for Fuck's sake.

He offers her a tissue from the glovebox and a bottle of lukewarm water for her to clean herself. She takes them, and their fingers touch slightly. The sensation is still far too potent considering the briefness of the contact, and reflexively he stares at her face, looking for an hint in her green eyes freckled with gold, but finding none. There's blood on her puffing knuckles too.

"So, did you get in a brawl with the guys there?"

"Would you believe me if I said I have nothing to do with them?"

Neither cops dignify that with an answer and she sighs. A few seconds pass once more as Kes takes a turn, then her voice graces their ears again:

"Look. D'you have a phone I can borrow before you drop me off? Sorry to bother you, but I'd like to call somebody. It's important."

A boyfriend? The possibility struck Cassian like a thunderbolt, and he feels numb from the force of it. Not because he'd care about her romantic status, but because usually he's not one to jump to conclusions. Her bruised fingers may sport no rings, it doesn't mean she's unattached though.

He hands his phone, reasoning he should have her contact in the phone memory just in case. She dials a number and Cassian doesn't even pretend he's not eavesdropping as he turns down the volume of the latest bachata tune. Kes really has a shitty taste, but it's a rule that the driver picks the music, and besides, it's not the point.

"Bodhi, it's me."

"Jyn! Jyn, where are you, are you okay? Jyn, talk to me please, tell me you're fine."

The hysteria of the man carries up to them and even sunny Kes frowns back at the woman in the rearview mirror. Cassian feels in his guts like something is really wrong, this is no hitchhiking business, or someone who stole some stuff at the gas station and didn't wish to be caught.

"Bodhi, for Heaven's sake, calm down, it'll do me no good to have you panicking over nothing. I'm fine, I got out okay, you hear me?"

"You're safe?" the man — apparently named Bodhi — asks in a tiny voice, almost childish, which puzzles Cassian a bit.

"For now I am, they're not going after me. I got a drive to San Diego, I'll search for help there, and I'm going to get you next."

"No! No it's too soon, you gotta stay under the radar, they'll be looking for you, just, just keep on moving. Just for a bit, please, don't, don't stop to San Diego or anywhere yet, just drive around, drive so they won't find you —"

Even without the speaker on, the panicked rant and the hyperventilation that seems to go with it is plainly audible in the car. The nagging feeling is back full force and Captain Andor and Sergeant Dameron look at each other over the console, knowing they've already heard too many things to retain any semblance of frivolity.

"Wait, what do you mean, drive around? I can't just stay on the move for the sake of it, I have to go and see you at some point!"

She's clearly aggravated now but a different voice, gruffier, older, calmer, feels the line suddenly, and the sound of it seems to relax the fugitive.

"Little sister, Bodhi will be okay, Chirrut and I are looking after him. It's you that needs to be careful. They are looking for your father."

That piece of information gave her an unexplainable sense of dread, clearly echoed on her features, and Cassian gets the urge to hold her hand again, to show support or something. Kes has stopped the car completely, pulled it over for now, and all his attention is focused on her distressed face too.

"It's ridiculous, I don't even know what he's up to, let alone where he is!"

"We know that, and Bodhi told them as much, but still. Stay hidden until we can pick you up, not the other way around."

Then the woman — Jyn, his mind supplies automatically — get hung upon, having received all the instruction she needed, or so the man on the other side of the line thought. Jyn is deeply troubled as she hands him the phone back and her scowl doesn't mask her shining eyes.

"I can tell the phone call hasn't gone as well as you expected then... Jyn."

"Obviously, good cop, or whatever your name is. There's not much privacy in that old piece of junk, is it?"

"Hey, I resent that!" Kes exclaims.

"Beg your pardon, it's true that beggars can't be choosers... Does fine specimen of vintage car sounds more respectful?"

Kes snorts as he turns the contact again, resuming their trip, but even as her blatant sarcasm brought a fleeting smile to Cassian's mouth, his best friend clarifies:

"You mistake my meaning, my car is a piece of junk but I'm offended because you thought Cassian was the good cop. Usually that's me! Not to mention I've driven you around so far, I think this is pretty nice of me."

"True," Jyn concedes with a nod, "and it you seems like good enough blokes, as far as cops go, but soon I'll be out of your hair. I must get going, find other ways to move further than San Diego for a few days. I guess you already knew that from my conversation, right?"

"Ignore him," Cassian says pointedly, searching for her conflicted gaze. "Whatever threat you're under, I’d be happy to help, if you think it's necessary. You're also welcome to join us, if you're put in a higher danger when traveling alone."

"Don't you mind him, he's got a hero complex. And he's paranoid," Kes interrupts at her surprised expression.

"I can tell," she mumbles, swiftly putting it back against her full lips — to hide a smile?

Cassian feels offended but doesn't say so, knowing it would just give Kes a topic to rant about, likely revealing a few intimate details to their ungrateful guest in the process. He had just wanted to do the right thing and somehow he's the one being criticized, yet again.

Dameron sees him brooding and after a heartbeat or two of uncomfortable silence, it's him who asks:

"So do you agree? Whoever is chasing you would never catch you as long as you're with us. We're rooting in a tiny village near Mexico City for a week, if you're on the run until someone reaches out, it's a sound plan."

"What would you get from it? For all you know, I might be a criminal, a thief or a murderer."

"We already know you're not above borrowing cars and getting into fistfights. And that someone likely dangerous is looking for your father. We know the name you use, your physical description, the phone number of someone named Bodhi and if needed, there's blood on the tissue. I'd say we're all better off sticking together then, keeping an eye on you, don't you think?"

Kay would have been horrified by Cassian's bluntness, disclosing the assets at their disposal like this, but he trusts Jyn and Kes isn't overly concerned either. Finally Jyn must have thought the offer worthwhile, because she nods, leaning back on her seat and reaching out to a bag of crisps next to her.

"So, where are we headed?"

"Bernal, a pueblo magico three hours away from Mexico City."

#rebelcaptain #fanfiction #cassian andor #jyn erso #kes dameron #modern au #roadtrip #pingou writes #aesthetic

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vanderlinde-moved · 7 years

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i’ve got guns in my head (and they won’t go)

summary: After surviving Scarif, Jyn struggles with life in the Rebellion.

10k, mostly hurt/comfort

read it on ao3!

A faint buzzing sound brings her out of the darkness.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Cassian says -- and god damn it, she has tears in her eyes and her hands are shaking so she clenches them into fists on her thighs in an attempt to control herself. Cassian’s breathing heavily beside her, his leg at an impossible angle and an arm holding his side and every time he takes a shallow breath she thinks that it’s going to be his last, that he’s going to leave her alone on this beach to die.

She comes back to consciousness in bits and pieces. She hears the buzzing before she can move her fingers, moves her fingers before she can crack open her eyes. Still, she keeps them closed, trying to figure out where she is before alerting anyone that she’s awake.

It's a trick she learned from Saw. If she's caught in a bad situation, it's always better to seem as complacent as possible.

She can hear beeping on her left side. Her body feels heavy and her mind’s still a bit fuzzy. Jyn can only imagine the amount of medication running through her veins. Even with it, it feels as if her body's been torn apart and stitched back together.

If this is what it feels like to be alive, then she'd much rather be dead.

When she hears footsteps against the tiles, her heart clenches. For a moment, she thinks she’s in prison again, drugged and left to fend for herself after a particularly nasty fight . For a moment, she thinks that her roommate finally got the jump on her, finally decided to try and kill her.

But it’s only for a moment. After the small wave of panic passes, she forces herself to open her eyes.

There’s a bright light, momentarily blinding her, but she adjusts quickly . Her eyes are still crusty from sleep and out of pure reflex, she raises her arm to wipe them away. Well, tries to, anyway. Her right arm lays on the bed beside her, aching and heavy with bandages.

“What -- ?” she croaks, trying to sit up in her cot. Stars dance before her eyes, and she swallows a wave of nausea. Her body protests for a second but Jyn pushes through the pain and props herself up.

The medbay she’s in is pristine and blindingly white. There’s curtains surrounding her bed, cutting her off from the rest of the room. While she can hear the sounds of the other patients, she feels horribly and terribly alone.

Just like on Wobani.

She glances down. There’s bandages running up and down her right side, which feels as if it's been on fire. Her left side, though still throbbing, feels better. She assumes that she has more wounds underneath the thin blanket; she can feel the weight of the bandages on her skin. Despite probably using half the bandages in the medbay, this is hardly the worst injury she’s ever had.

But it’s definitely up there. Top three, maybe.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t die, not before her, doesn’t leave her alone, and instead gathers her in his arms with what seems like the last of his strength. She holds him just as tightly, hooking her arms around his back, mindful of his injuries. Cassian tucks his head into her shoulder, nose in her hair, and if she thinks she feels wetness on her bare neck, she ignores it.

"We did it,” she says softly, both to soothe and to convince. The plans are off to the Alliance and there’s hope. There’s hope because of them, because of what they all did here on Scarif. So she doesn’t bury her head in Cassian’s arms, even though she desperately wants to, to find comfort in him.

If she's going to die, then she's going to look Death in the eye on her way out.

“Miss Erso,” a robotic and formal voice breaks her out of her thoughts. She closes her eyes and opens them again, trying to calm her breathing. There’s a medical droid looking at the computers next to her bed. “You are awake approximately twelve hours ahead of schedule.”

“The others,” she rasps, ignoring the droid. She needs to make sure they’re alright. Throwing the covers away from her bed, she struggles to rise before the droid intercepts her. “Where. . .where are the others?”

“You are not fit to leave your bed, Miss Erso,” the droid responds, tucking her back in and checking her vitals.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

She pushes back against the droid just as hard. “Where are they?” she asks a bit more forcefully, struggling to get out of bed. Black spots dance briefly in front of her eyes and her head is spinning, but she doesn’t care, forces past it, blindly lashes out against the droid. The curtains around her cot seem to be closing in and she can barely breathe, but it doesn’t matter, all that matters is that her friends are okay and alive, she doesn’t care about herself --

“Please do not struggle. You need to rest in order to recover.”

“Just kriffing tell me! Are they. . .are. . .they. . .alive. . .?”

Something cool rushes through her veins. She feels sluggish, even more tired than she was when she woke up. She thinks she’s being drugged again, but she slips into unconsciousness before she can question it further.

She doesn’t want to die.

The thought hits her so abruptly that she doesn’t know where it comes from. All her life she’s been living on a day to day basis, waiting for the inevitable. But now? There’s a pang in her chest when she realizes that she wants to live.

She wants to see this war through to the end, wants to avenge her family and her friends. She has to be able to help somehow --

At the last second, she buries her face in Cassian’s neck, trying to breathe. To hold onto life.

The wave of fire hits them full on, swiftly and mercilessly. She shifts, trying to shield Cassian from the worst of it, tries to cover his body with her own, tries to save him like he saved her on top of the tower -- but then she’s

burning

and can’t focus on anything except the white hot agony that’s currently coursing through her body. She’s been burned before, of course, but this is different. This is as if her flesh is melting off of her bones, as if she’s going to turn to ash right on this beach.

But then it stops just as suddenly as it started.

Her ears are ringing and her right side is on fire. She’s been knocked back by the force of the fire and Cassian is no longer in her arms. Faintly, she thinks she can hear screaming. It might be coming from her. But the sea breeze feels cool on her skin and she can feel sand underneath her hands and she’s alive.

Somehow, she’s alive.

Blindly, she reaches out next to her. It takes her a few tries but she finds him, gripping the front of his shirt as tightly as she can with her good hand. She doesn’t know if he’s alive, (hell, she doesn’t think she’ll be alive much longer) but she wants to make sure she’s not alone.

The kyber crystal around her neck burns her chest almost as hot as the explosion did, but she finds reassurance in it as she drifts off into blackness.

The second time she wakes up is a lot like the first, slowly coming back into consciousness. But it’s a lot easier this time around -- her mind’s not as foggy and the panic from earlier isn’t there anymore. Her right side aches, but it doesn't concern her.

“Jyn! You’re -- you’re awake!”

She cracks a grin before she manages to open her eyes, pushing herself up in bed when she sees him. “Bodhi!” she exclaims, reaching out to grab his arm. “You made it. You’re alive.”

He grips her left hand as tightly as she’s holding him. “Yeah, I, uh, woke up yesterday. You feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” she lies, throwing back the covers. This time, there’s no droid to stop her. Bandages still cover a lot of her body, but there’s less of them. She runs her fingers over them, pushing gently against her wounds to judge their severity.

Bodhi notices. “You got burned pretty bad,” he says, wiping his free palm on his pant leg. He’s no longer wearing his Imperial flightsuit. “You got out of bacta this morning. Your last round, I think .”

Ah. That would explain the smell. She wrinkles her nose, wishing desperately for a shower.

“Uh, I think you might have dislocated your hip too. But I -- I can’t remember.”

“That would make sense,” she grunts, rubbing the palm of her hand against her leg. “It feels a little stiff.” She looks over at him, noticing the scarring running up his arms. “What about you? Are you all right?”

“Grenade,” he responds, not looking at her. He fidgets, picking at the scars. “They tossed it in the shuttle. I tossed it out but it still. . .”

She reaches up to grab his arm, careful around his burns. “Bodhi. Hey,” she waits until their eyes meet hers to continue. “Hey. We’re alive, okay? We made it. We’re alive.”

“Yeah,” he manages a small smile at that, which she returns. He freezes for a second, then lets out a breath. “I almost forgot but -- the others, they’re here too.”

Her heart clenches and Jyn shoots straight up in her bed. Even though her body’s protesting every move, she rips out the IV in her hand and the monitors off of her chest. Pulling back the covers, she nearly jumps out of her cot. “I need to see them.”

Of course, that’s the moment the medic decides to walk in. What a sight the two of them must look -- Jyn, haggard and pale, barely standing on her own and Bodhi, who stands up at the sight of the doctor with a small squeak of alarm.

To her credit, the doctor just raises her brows. “Looks like you’re awake, Miss Erso,” she nods to Bodhi. “Mr. Rook. I’m Mena Dane. Want to explain why you’re out of bed?”

Jyn juts out her chin stubbornly. Her legs wobble underneath her. “I’m going to see my friends.” She leaves no room for argument.

Mena glances at Bodhi. He raises his arms in surrender, and she sighs. “Miss Erso, you were severely injured during the battle at Scarif. You suffered burns that cover the majority of your right side and back, a dislocated hip, and two fractured ribs.”

Jyn grips Bodhi’s shoulder tighter with each injury that’s listed. “I’ve been hurt worse,” she retorts, then wavers.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, the doctor responds, “Please, just sit down. Let me look you over.”

Jyn complies. It’s a relief to get off her leg for a couple of seconds, even though she’d never admit that to Mena. “If I let you do this, will you let me leave?”

"If you’re healed enough to move around,” the doctor replies firmly , unwrapping the bandages around her arm. Her skin’s pink and covered in burn scars, though they’re healed more than she imagined. When Mena presses on a particularly sensitive spot, Jyn swears colorfully, trying to get her arm out of the other woman’s grasp.

The rest of her examination takes longer than Jyn would have liked (especially when the doctor tries to put the IV back in her arm), but soon enough, the medic is rewrapping her burns with significantly less bandages.

“Can I leave now?” This has taken far too much time. She’s itching to make sure everyone else is all right. Especially Cassian. But she shoves that thought away as soon as it enters her mind.

“The burns on your side are healing remarkably quickly. Your hip might give you trouble for a couple of days, but should be fine in about a week. The burning on your face is more severe than we originally thought, even with the treatments,” the doctor shrugs, “But I don’t believe we’ll need to do another submersion.”

“Great,” Jyn replies easily, standing up from her bed. She doesn't really care what state she's in. Bodhi reaches out to steady her. “I’m going to go.”

Bodhi glances at her, then at the doctor. Jyn’s already heading toward the door. “I don’t think she’s going to take no for an answer, ma’am.”

“Damn right I’m not,” Jyn says, tugging Bodhi behind her. “Take me to them.”

The doctor stops them before the two of them can push back the curtains. “You have five minutes, Miss Erso. Then I want you back in here for another night.”

Jyn doesn’t respond, tearing open the curtains and leading Bodhi into the rest of the medbay, ignoring his apologies to the doctor. She scans the beds around her, pulse racing when she doesn’t recognize anyone lying there.

“C’mon,” Bodhi says gently. “Chirrut’s still in bacta and Baze is still with him. The Captain’s this way. He’s in another room.”

“What do you mean, another room?” There’s panic in her voice that she can’t reign in, her mask cracking from its usual state of carefree indifference into something more frightened. “Is he okay? Is he alive?”

Bodhi stops, gripping her shoulders and meeting her eyes. “Hey, breathe with me, okay? He’s okay. He’s alive. He's hurt worse than you, so they put him in intensive care. But he’s okay.”

“Right -- “ she replies, pulling herself out of Bodhi’s arms and ignoring the flash of hurt that passes through his eyes. She clenches her eyes shut and pressed her hand to her chest. Breathe. He’s alive. You’re alive. You all made it.

Once she can breathe normally again, she nods. “Sorry -- I just -- “

“It’s okay,” he says with a small smile. “Don’t worry about it. He’s, uh, down this way.”

For a moment, she wonders what she did to deserve such good friends. With everything she’s done, with every crime she’s committed or every person she’s killed, she shouldn’t be treated this kindly. A selfish part of her wants her to stick around and enjoy this kind of friendship while it lasts.

But then she remembers that she’s only known them for a little over a week, and despite everything they've done for her, she isn’t sure that staying with the Rebellion would be better than being out on her own.

(even though they had all had chances to leave her behind, but none of them ever took it. jedha, eadu, scarif. hell, even wobani -- especially after she attacked them with a shovel. and yet here she is.)

Jyn puts her walls back up. It’s easier this way. It’s all she knows.

Cassian’s room is quiet except for the beeping of a heart rate monitor in the corner of the room. If it wasn’t for that, she would have assumed that he’s dead. He’s so pale that his skin has taken on a greyish tint. His leg is propped up and wrapped from the hip in bandages and there’s dark shadows underneath his eyes. Captain Cassian Andor, who has at least seven inches on her, has never seemed so small.

beep. beep. beep. beep.

There’s a plastic chair next to his bed and Jyn collapses in it. One of Cassian’s hands is outside of his blankets. She leans forward, as if to grab it, but hesitates at the last second.

“What happened?” she rasps, turning to Bodhi. He’s standing in the doorway looking as alarmed as feels. “How did they find us?”

“It was Chirrut, actually,” he says quietly , coming closer to stand by her. His eyes never left Cassian’s prone form, watching the other man’s chest rise and fall. “After -- after the grenade, I found him and Baze. By that point, it was a mess and. . .and the comm tower. . .the blast was coming. . .”

She nods, more to herself than anyone else. “You left.”

He wrings his hands, eyes darting around the room, now looking anywhere except at her and Cassian. “I’m sorry, Jyn. I shouldn’t have left you two down there -- if only I had been faster, better -- “

“Bodhi,” she says gently, swallowing a wave of nausea. She touches his arm lightly, though removes her hand when he flinches away. “It’s all right. You couldn’t have stayed or else you would have died in the explosion. I would have done the same thing.”

"Right -- I just -- “ he shakes his head and tries to regain focus. “Once we were in atmo, I set the course for Yavin 4, but Chirrut -- he stopped me. He was bleeding out, barely conscious in Baze’s arms, but he said he had a feeling. That I should go back once it was safe and look for you two. So I turned around.”

“And then you found us on the beach.”

“Yeah. I don’t know how you survived. . .both of you were covered in burns and. . .Stars,” Bodhi drags his hand over his face, “I thought you were dead. We all did. But then you weren’t and. . .it’s a kriffing miracle, is what it is.”

Her kyber crystal sears bright against her chest, hotter than she’s ever felt it before. Even though her whole body is on fire, she can still feel it’s steady heat against her heart.

“It was luck,” Jyn says softly , reaching for her necklace. It’s not there -- it must be with the rest of her belongings. She drops her hand to her lap, looking down at it. “Pure, dumb luck.”

Thank you, mama.

“Chirrut would say it was the Force that saved you two,” Bodhi offers. “I’m sure he would have when we found you, but he was unconscious too.”

“It was luck,” she repeats. “Luck, and your piloting. Thank you. I mean it.”

Bodhi flushes, scratching the back of his neck with his good arm. “I, uh -- you’re welcome.” Jyn turns her gaze back to Cassian. Bodhi notices the intensity in her gaze, stepping away from the bed. “I’m going to -- speaking of Chirrut, I’m going to go check on him and Baze. I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

She doesn’t say anything, only nods. Once the door closes behind him, she exhales softly and reaches out a hand, her fingers hovering over his.

beep. beep. beep. beep.

She takes his hand in her own. It’s colder than it should be.

“We’re alive, Cassian,” she whispers. “We made it. Against everything, we made it.”

She leans forward in her chair, ignoring the way her body protests the movement. Tears gather in her eyes but she doesn’t move to wipe them away. “Bodhi, Chirrut, Baze. We all made it out alive. We should have died back on that beach. . .I thought we were going to.”

With a small, wet laugh, she grips his hand tighter. “I didn’t want to. I’ve been ready to die my whole life, but on that beach, I just wanted to live.”

Because of you. Because of everything you've done for me in the short time we've known each other.

She wonders if he’s going to remember the kiss they shared in the elevator when he wakes up. He had kissed her -- or maybe she had kissed him. But she thought they were going to die and so did he.

She steels herself. It meant nothing. She knows that.

She bows her head silently, squeezing her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. The door creaks open and someone walks in. For a moment, neither of them say anything.

Then -- “He’s going to be fine, Miss Erso.”

Jyn lifts her head up to meet the eyes of Mena Dane. There’s sympathy in the other woman’s dark eyes. Jyn clenches her jaw. She doesn't want her pity.

With one last look at Cassian, Jyn stands but doesn’t wipe away the tear streaks on her face. “I know,” she says simply, as the doctor moves to help her. “I know.”

“Come on,” Mena says, voice gentler than before. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

Jyn doesn't resist, too tired out from the whole ordeal, but manages to say, “I’m coming back tomorrow.”

The doctor sighs. “If you stay in bed for the rest of the night and let me examine you again tomorrow morning, you can have ten minutes.”

Jyn makes a face as they hobble toward the main room. Bodhi’s waiting outside the door and shoots her a thumbs up in response to her questioning look. They're okay. She nods back, relief clear on her face.

“Give me fifteen minutes and I'll cooperate,” Jyn shoots back once she’s settled in bed, working up the strength to argue. The doctor crosses her arms across her chest.

“You can have ten minutes, Miss Erso.”

“Fine. Deal. As long as you don’t sedate me this time.”

“All right,” Mena laughs at Jyn's scowl, then pauses, concern written across her face. “Try to get some rest, all right?”

It isn't difficult. Minutes after the doctor leaves and Bodhi wanders back in to sit at her side, she drifts back into sleep.

She finds out later that her necklace had shattered on Scarif.

Jyn’s never been particularly vain. Her scars have always been something she’s had pride in. They’re good icebreakers too -- nothing gets a conversation going like lifting up the hem of her shirt and showing a vibroblade scar across her ribs that she got when she was fourteen.

Somehow this is different.

Mena Dane had given her ointment for her scars, to ease the pain and make them fade. Jyn had been using it ever since she had been discharged from the medbay a couple days ago. Even though they've healed tremendously since Scarif, they still hurt when poked and prodded.

Which is exactly what she’s doing now, standing in the dim lighting of the communal bathroom on her floor, examining her face in the mirror.

The side of her face took the worst of it, she thinks, touching what used to be smooth skin. Her ear is a mess -- it’s a wonder she can still hear anything out of it. The burns stop just before her eye and snakes down the rest of her cheek and neck. It’s still red and angry looking, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.

Her back is destroyed as well. Almost all it is covered by scarring, which is hard for her to reach with the ointment. But Jyn’s always been stubborn. There’s no way in hell she’s going to go crawling back to medical to get someone to rub cream on her back.

So she deals with the discomfort. She's alive, after all, and has carried worse burdens than this.

With Saw, scars were something to be proud of, to show how tough of a fighter you were. In prison, everyone had scars. It had been more unusual to have unblemished skin than to be covered in them.

Now, with the Rebellion after Scarif? Her scars are a reminder. Every morning when she gets up to use the refresher, she has to look in the mirror and see them. See everyone who followed her because of a half-assed speech she gave to the Council and see everyone who didn’t make it off Scarif because of it.

It’s enough to make her want to break every mirror in this goddamn base.

Instead, she pulls her jacket tighter around her shoulders and turns around, leaning up against the sink. Jyn lets out a heavy breath and runs her fingers through her messy hair.

Someone walks in -- another sergeant. Jyn doesn’t make eye contact when she leaves.

Mon Mothma had approached her after she had been discharged from the medbay and offered her a rank in the Alliace, if she'd like. While Jyn still has her reservations about being a rebel, at the time, there was no where else to go. After everything she's been through, she didn't want to go back to living without looking up.

So she had decided to join. And here she is. A sergeant.

She doesn’t deserve it, not when better soldiers than her died on that beach when she had survived.

She stifles a yawn as she walks through the quiet hallway, heading toward the hangar bay. She’s not the only one still awake, but she doesn't recognize anyone who passes her. Despite how tired she is, she doesn’t go back to her room, instead finding a quiet place to sit.

Mothma had put her with another sergeant who seemed kind enough, certainly nicer than the other roommates she’s had. But Jyn doesn’t spend much time in her room, especially not after the first night, where she had almost attacked the other woman during a nightmare.

After Scarif, they've gotten worse. She sees Baze and Chirrut getting shot down by Stormtroopers, Bodhi not throwing the grenade out in time, K2 sacrificing his life for theirs. And Cassian -- Cassian’s always falling and he never climbs back up, instead leaving her alone on top of the tower.

To stop the nightmares, Jyn doesn’t sleep. And if anyone finds her in the morning, dozing against a crate or a wall, they don’t say anything.

Really, the Rebellion is too good to her.

When the Death Star destroys Alderaan, Jyn grieves alone.

She lashes out, fists flying, the pain consuming her until she can’t think of anything else. Then she slides down the nearest wall, broken and bloody knuckles cradled against her chest, and she cries.

A voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Cassian tells her that she doesn’t have to bear this burden alone. That the entire base is in mourning, and that it would hurt less to share the weight with others feeling the same thing.

She almost does, but doesn’t.

“You look like hell,” Cassian remarks one morning at breakfast, sliding into the seat next to her.

Jyn scowls into her plate, knowing exactly how bad she looks. With bloodshot eyes, dark circles, and a frown etched in her face, she hadn’t been surprised at the amount of recruits that had jumped out of her way on her way to the mess. “I’m fine,” she deflects, jabbing in his direction with her fork. “Shouldn’t you still be on crutches?”

He lifts one shoulder in a shrug, waving her off. “My leg barely hurts.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

Under her scrutiny, he sighs and mutters, “Don’t tell the medics.”

Jyn snorts, turning back to her food. “No promises, captain.”

“Really though, Jyn,” Cassian says after a pause, apparently not letting her off the hook that easy. “You look as if you’re not sleeping.”

Chirrut butts in, “Even I can see it.”

“You can’t see anything, you old fool,” Baze retorts fondly, stabbing something that looks like eggs off of Chirrut’s plate with his fork.

“Maybe not,” Chirrut amends, turning to Baze. “But the Force is telling me that you’re trying to deprive an old man of his breakfast.”

“The Force,“ Baze scoffs. “The Force wouldn’t tell you something like that -- “

“Does your roommate snore, Jyn?” Bodhi cuts in, letting Chirrut and Baze banter between each other. “Mine does. Well, one of them does. It’s not so bad if you put your head underneath your pillow though.”

Jyn groans, putting her head in her hands. “I’m fine!” she cries out. “Honestly, I am!”

Someone places a hand on her shoulder; when she looks up, Cassian eye’s are concerned. “You’re not,” he says evenly, holding up a hand when she tries to protest. “You’re not sleeping. If your roommates a problem, well. . .” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, a flush rising up his cheeks. “My room is bigger than yours because I’m a captain. So -- if you wanted to crash there for a night or something -- “

Her chest tightens and she’s sure her eyes are comically wide. Her mouth opens then closes, and for a second, she almost agrees.

But he’s still healing and it would be unfair to deprive him of a good night's sleep just because she can’t deal with her demons. So she smirks instead, raising her brows. Makes a joke out of it when all she wants to do accept. “Why, captain, are you trying to invite me to bed?”

Now it’s Cassian’s turn to groan, turning away from her in his embarrassment. She feels bad -- he’s only trying to help, after all, but doesn't change her answer. “Force, Jyn, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“You can never be too sure,” she says lightly, faking confidence that she doesn't feel, standing up from the table and grabbing her tray. “I’ve got to report to training. Apparently, training under Saw for most of my life isn’t good enough for the Rebellion.” She pauses, bites her lip. “I’ll see you all later.”

Jyn turns away with strained smile. She ignores the concerned glances shot her way when she leaves. She’s been tired before and it hasn’t affected how she’s worked. Saw’s people certainly didn’t care. So why is it such a big deal now?

That night she doesn’t go to her room. Between her and her roommate, at least one of them should get some rest. And if she walks through Cassian's hallway on her way to hangar and stops at his door, she doesn’t linger. He needs his rest to heal -- she’ll be fine.

And maybe if she keeps repeating it, it’ll become true.

After offering help to a couple of pilots still up, she finds herself in Bodhi’s ship. Her bad leg’s propped up against the dashboard and she leans back in the pilot’s chair, eyes drifting closed. It’s not very comfortable, but it’ll do for tonight.

She’s almost asleep when someone boards the ship. As soon as the metal creaks with footsteps she’s instantly awake, her body tense and ready for a fight. But nothing happens -- at least, not until someone sinks into the copilot's chair next to her. She braces herself for a fight, muscles tensing.

“I waited up,” Cassian says softly. Jyn’s eyes fly open in surprise, her leg almost falling in shock. “You know, just in case you decided to come by. But when you didn’t. . .I thought I would come to you.”

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out. “For keeping you up. And making you find me. You should be resting, I know you’re not healed yet.”

He shrugs, fingers drumming against his good leg. “This is the first place I checked. Some of the pilots said you come down here every once in awhile and help with repairs.”

“Yeah,” she replies, uncomfortable with the idea of people talking behind her back. “I'm not much help, though. Saw only bothered to teach me basic repairs.”

“I can teach you, if you’d like. Show you a couple of things,” he offers.

She doesn’t see the harm in that. Since neither of them have much to do until they’re cleared for active duty, she can think of worse activities to pass the time. “All right.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, gazing out the window. Cassian’s the one who breaks the silence. “Why are you here, Jyn?”

She doesn’t turn to face him, instead letting out a heavy sigh before she replies. “In Bodhi’s ship or with the Alliance?”

“Both.”

“I’m in this ship because I can’t sleep,” she responds honestly . “And I’m with the Alliance because I have nowhere else to go.”

“Nightmares?” he asks.

“Something like that,” she mutters, squeezing her eyes shut as images flash in her brain. Her parents dying, Saw dying, Bodhi dying, Baze dying, Chirrut dying, Cassian falling, Cassian dying --

“It might help to talk about it,” Cassian says slowly. “I’m here if you need to.”

She doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “Thanks.”

But they both know she's not going take him up on it.

“Mothma offered you your freedom. The Council would have cleared your name,” he leans toward her, scrutinizing her in the dim lighting. “Why’d you stay? You could have gone anywhere in the galaxy as a free woman.” There’s no judgement in his voice; she can tell he’s merely curious.

There’s a lot of things she could say in response to his question. That she decided to pick a side, that she wants to fight for what’s right. Or that she’s sick of running.

But Jyn doesn’t say any of that. “Maybe I just found someone worth sticking around for.”

When Luke Skywalker destroys the Death Star, Cassian finds her.

He pulls her to his chest even when she fights him, and when the anxiety has left her a shaking mess, he holds her as tightly as he did on Scarif.

“It’s over,” he whispers into her hair. “We did it. It’s over, Jyn.”

She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she fists her hands on the front of his shirt and struggles to breathe.

Cheers go up around them, but neither move away from each other’s embrace.

Jyn’s cleared for active duty almost as soon as they land on Hoth. She goes on a couple of missions with the Pathfinders, and finds that she works quite well with Han Solo (especially since he lets her do a lot of damage). Despite that, most of her time is spent back on base, making it habitable for the Rebellion.

Which is kriffing boring. The last thing she wants to do is work on fixing light fixtures when she could be fighting the Empire. And it’s cold -- freezing, actually. She’s almost positive that one of these days, all her fingers and toes are going to fall off from it.

That’ll show the Council for choosing this planet of all places.

So when Cassian is approved to start going out on missions again, she tells him very firmly that he needs to take her on his next mission .

He decides to take pity on her. She’s not sure how he does it, but he manages to convince Draven that she’d be the ideal partner for a mission in Coruscant since she grew up there.

“You know,” she’d said, after he had informed her. “I don’t actually remember much of the city. We were only there for a couple of months.”

“I know,” he’d replied, handing her the datapad with the mission brief. “But you wanted to get off world, didn’t you?”

Somehow, he’d even managed to get Bodhi assigned as their pilot. For the first half of the mission, everything went smoothly. The two of them had dodged the stormtroopers patrolling the city without any trouble and Cassian made contact with his informant.

Of course, Jyn’s never been on a mission that hasn’t gone wrong. This is no exception.

“I left you for two minutes!” Cassian exclaims, firing blindly. A blaster bolt hits the wall of the building closest to them, sending brick and plaster raining down. "Two minutes, Jyn!"

Jyn shoots behind her, taking out one of the stormtroopers in pursuit. Her hip jostles uncomfortably as she runs; she can only imagine what kind of pain Cassian is in right now. “He tried to grab my ass! What the hell was I supposed to do, let him?”

“Of course not!” He retorts indignantly. “But did you -- this way, come on -- did you have to start a bar fight?”

“I threw one punch, Cassian!” she holds up one finger, waving it in his face. He bats it away with a growl. “I restrained myself! If I was really trying to start a bar fight, I’d do a lot more damage than that. Give me some credit, here.”

“Well if you hadn’t, we wouldn’t have drawn any attention!”

A shot comes dangerously close to her shoulder, singeing through the fabric of her coat. Jyn swears colorfully. “Are we almost to the kriffing ship? One of them just ruined my jacket!”

“If we get out of this alive, you can have mine!” he grunts, grabbing her wrist. “We’re almost -- “ he cuts off with a curse in Festian. “The checkpoint. At the docks.”

“We’re going to have to fight our way through it,” she says grimly, ignoring the burning in her lungs as they sprint toward it. “No other way.”

“Get to the ship as quickly as possible,” he orders. “Don’t wait for me. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Cassian -- “

“Just do it, Jyn!”

That leaves a sour taste in her mouth, but she nods anyway, biting her lip. Cassian’s orders be damned -- she’s not leaving him behind.

The stormtroopers at the checkpoint already have their rifles raised and ready. There’s only a few -- just the four that who had checked them in before -- and Jyn can see their ship in the distance. As she runs toward them, she holsters her blaster and grabs her truncheons. “Cover me!” she yells as Cassian, dodging a stray bullet.

When she slams into the first stormtrooper, she laughs, hitting them in the ribs with the tail end of a truncheon. At the same time, the one coming up behind her goes down from a blaster bolt in the chest.

“Was a bar fight worth all this trouble?” he calls as she takes down the remaining two ‘troopers, smacking one in the head hard enough to take their helmet off.

Once they're on the ground, she retorts, “I didn’t even get to fight at the bar. You dragged me away!”

They make the sprint to the ship together, Cassian grabbing her arm once he gets close enough. They're hollering for Bodhi to start the engines and trying to shoot the remaining stormtroopers behind them at the same time.

Bodhi appears in the doorway of the ship, providing cover fire as they make their way toward him. “Can’t you two run any faster?”

“You threw a punch!” he shouts back at her, ignoring Bodhi to get the last word. “You definitely -- “

"Cassian! Behind you!”

At Bodhi’s yell, Jyn whips her head toward Cassian to see a stormtrooper pause fire a round directly at him. She doesn’t even think before jumping to knock him on ground, cutting off his sentence and taking the bolt meant for his chest in her side. White hot agony laces through the injury and she can feel hot blood starting to seep through her clothes, but her only concern is Cassian, who’s currently groaning underneath her.

“My leg -- “ he says as she hoists him back up, ignoring how her side protests the movement. “Think I -- “ he falters and she catches him, propping him back up. Clenching his teeth, he grits out, “Same one from. . .Scarif -- ”

Jyn bites her lip hard, steering him in the direction of the ship. “Come on, just a little bit farther,” she murmurs, dragging him along beside her. If only she had been a bit more careful -- Force, she shouldn't have barrelled into him like that, not with his leg “Bodhi!” she yells, her voice cracking. “Help me!”

“Get to the ship, Jyn. I can make it on my own.”

She ignores him, tightening her grip around his middle. There’s no way he could outrun the stormtroopers with a twice injured leg and she's not letting him sacrifice himself for her.

Bodhi runs off the ship to help her support Cassian’s weight. They hobble together slowly, dodging shots and swearing viciously . Once they’re inside, he leaves her for the cockpit and she sets Cassian down against the wall, making sure she doesn’t move his leg. The doors close behind them, but that doesn’t deter the stormtroopers, who seem determined to keep them on Coruscant. “Get us out of here, Bodhi!”

“On it!” he says, flipping switches and pressing buttons to prepare for takeoff. With a hand pressed to her side to stop the blood flow, she works her way up to the cockpit. With each blaster bolt that hits the ship, they come closer and closer to getting shot out of the sky. “Almost there. . .”

“Come on, come on,” Jyn mutters, leaning heavily against the copilot seat. Just a few more feet -- “Come on, Bodhi.”

"Give it a few more seconds -- “ Another shot. Something rattles in the ship and Cassian swears in Festian. “Got it! We’re good. We’re out of range.”

Jyn lets out a heavy breath, dizzy with relief. Her body feels shaky as the adrenaline rush fades. She claps Bodhi on the shoulder. “Nice work. You know where the medkit is in this thing?”

“Should be somewhere in the back,” he says, calculating the jump into hyperspace. “Probably in the cargo bay. Hey, Jyn?”

“Yeah?” she asks, not looking behind her as she works her way below deck.

“You think next time we can, you know, not have stormtroopers shooting at us on the way out?”

Cassian snorts. “With Jyn’s luck, it’s doubtful.”

“Oh stuff it, both of you,” she grumbles, opening up cabinets at random until she finds the medkit. When she reaches to get it, she stumbles back, suddenly dizzy. When she presses her hand against her side, it comes away sticky with blood.

Not good, she thinks as she swallows a wave of nausea. Just wait until you deal with Cassian. Then you can pass out.

She makes her way back up the ladder, her side throbbing with every movement. At the top, she has to stop and steady herself against the wall, breathing out through her nose.

Cassian notices -- of course he does, he’s a damn spy. It’s his job to notice these things, but that doesn’t mean Jyn has to like it. “What’s wrong?” he asks, struggling to get up. “Are you hurt? Your hands are covered in blood.”

“I’m fine,” she snaps, grateful that she’s wearing dark clothing to hide it. “It’s just a graze. Sit down and let me take care of you first.”

He slumps back to the ground with a wince and she kneels down next to him, head spinning. She’s grateful to be off her feet, but what she really wants to do right now is lay down and take a quick nap. Her vision goes blurry -- suddenly, she's exhausted.

It’s the blood loss. Focus, Jyn.

“My knee,” Cassian says as she rummages through the medkit for a bacta patch. “I twisted it when you knocked me over. And my ankle -- feels broken.”

She focuses on his ankle, prodding it gently. He flinches away from her, trying to pull it out of her grip. It doesn’t feel broken, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t. Using her rudimentary medical skills she learned from Saw, she splints it to the best of her ability. It looks terrible, but it’ll hold until they get back to Hoth.

Next she moves upward to look at his knee, pulling up his pant leg as gently as she can. His knee is already purple and swollen. She winces in sympathy as she puts the bacta patch on it, smoothing down the edges. “Sorry. I acted on instinct.”

He laughs weakly. “Sorry? Jyn, you saved my life. If it wasn’t for you, I’d have a hole in my chest right now. I should be thanking you.”

Her fingers linger for a second too long against his leg and when she realizes it, she lurches back away and hits the wall next to him. The abrupt movement causes her side to tear and she can’t help but cry out, crumbling in on herself.

“Jyn?” Cassian says, but she can barely hear him with the blood pounding in her ears. “Jyn!”

“‘m fine,” she says, or least tries to. Stars dance before her eyes. She clenches her fists so tight that her fingernails dig half-moon crescents into her palms. It takes two deep breaths before she can pull herself back up. “I’m fine.”

Cassian’s hand is hovering over her when she tries to sit back up. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He accuses, reaching for the hem of her shirt. She tries to bat him away weakly but at his sharp intake of breath, she knows he’s seen it.

“That bad, huh?” she jokes weakly .

Cassian doesn’t find it as funny as she does. “How far away are we from Hoth, Bodhi?” He shouts, leaning forward to grab the medkit she abandoned at his side.

“We’re still a couple hours out,” he says, popping his head out from the cockpit. “What’s -- oh shit, Jyn!”

“I know,” Cassian says grimly, trying to wipe away the extra blood from her side. When he pulls her shirt up higher, he swears again. His fingers ghost over the burn scars littered there. She can only imagine how bad they look. “Stars -- your back -- Jyn -- “

“‘S not that bad,” she mumbles, her head lolling against the wall. “I'm fine.”

As soon as her eyes close, Cassian’s hands are cupping her face. “You need to stay awake,” he orders, rubbing her cheekbones with his thumbs. When her eyes flutter back open, she notices how much closer he is to her -- their legs are practically touching. This brings a smile to her face and she leans forward, fully intending to sleep on his shoulder. “Jyn! Goddamn it, you need to keep your eyes open! That is an order!”

“You know I’ve never been good. . .at following orders, Cass,” she slurs. She feels something sting as it presses to her side. She cries out blindly, but the pain is slowly fading. Her breathing begins to slow and her head droops out of its own accord.

It’s not long until she slips into unconscious.

Like Scarif, she wakes up in the medbay. Unlike Scarif, she wakes up in the middle of a nightmare, shooting up in bed, her lungs constricting.

The heart rate monitor at her side is beeping faster and faster but all Jyn can do is grasp at her throat and try to catch her breath. The image of Cassian being shot in the chest at Coruscant plays over and over in her head. She jumps too late, when they’re on the ground she feels the blood leaking out of his chest and sees the light leaving his eyes, she’s too late to save him, has to leave him behind --

Hands grab her arms to keep her from flailing out. “Jyn! It’s me, it’s Cassian. It’s okay, you’re safe. We’re back on Hoth. You’re going to be okay. But you need to breathe, okay? Just focus on breathing.”

It takes a couple of seconds for her to calm down. When her breathing is normal and her vision cleared, she sees Cassian standing above her, looking exhausted. Once he sees that she’s okay, he collapses into the chair next to her.

Jyn falls back against her pillows, rubbing her eyes. Her side twinges unpleasantly. “How’s your leg?”

“How’s my -- “ He runs his fingers through his hair, clearly exasperated. There’s dark circles under his eyes and she wonders how long he's been up. He looks exhausted. “Jyn, you almost bled out in my lap and you’re asking me how my leg is?”

Jyn pauses, fiddling with the IV in her arm. “Yes?”

He sighs. “It’s fine. You did a good job patching me up. Don’t -- “ he pulls her hand away from the needle. “That needs to stay in until you’re feeling better. Stars, you are the worst patient.”

She doesn’t know what to say to that. “Cassian, I -- “

“No, don’t even get started,” he interrupts. He pauses for a second to collect his thoughts. “You can’t pull something like that ever again, Jyn. You have to tell someone when you’re hurt! I don’t care what the rules were with Gerrera or when you were on your own, but the Alliance does it differently, okay?”

She opens her mouth to correct him. Even though she had lied about its severity, she had said something. Cassian holds up a hand. “You almost died. Can you imagine what that’s like, watching you fall unconscious and then being able to do nothing about it? What were you thinking?”

“I saved your life!” she snaps, her voice growing louder with each word. “If you’re looking for an apology for that, you’re not getting one!”

“You almost died taking a shot meant for me!” He shouts, standing up to pace the floor next to her bed. “You don't get to sacrifice yourself to keep me safe! I have so much blood on my hands already -- I won't have your's there too!”

“It doesn’t work like that, Cassian! You don’t get decide what I do. I would take a thousand kriffing blaster bolts if it meant that I was saving your life!”

There’s a heavy silence that hangs in the air after she shouts at him. Jyn’s panting, all her energy used up in her argument. Once she’s breathing normally , she adds in a quieter voice, “You saved me on Jedha, and on Eadu, and on Scarif. Let me save you for once.”

A pained look flashes across his face and then it goes blank. She can see him shutting himself off from her, and she desperately wishes she could take her words back. “You don’t owe me anything, Jyn. If this is what has been keeping you here with the Alliance, then leave. You paid your debt back on Coruscant.”

“Cassian, no, that’s not what I -- wait!”

But he’s already turned on his heel and left, leaving her alone in the medbay.

She finds his jacket tucked beneath her chin when she wakes up the next morning, covering the parts of her skin that her blanket doesn’t reach. It smells like him and she burrows deeper underneath it.

“Are we almost to the kriffing ship? One of them just ruined my jacket!”

“If we get out of this alive, you can have mine!”

She takes it as a peace offering.

The day after Jyn’s released from the medical and three days after the incident in Coruscant, she goes looking for Cassian.

It takes her awhile to find him. She’s moving slowly, the wound on her side just barely healed. He’s not in his room, or the mess, or the hangar bay. She even checks with Draven -- he hasn’t see Cassian all day either.

She tugs his jacket tighter around her body, inhaling deeply. She’s worn it ever since she found it on her in the medbay. If he won’t let her explain herself, she can at the very least return his coat

It’s midday when she finally barges in on him. It’s purely on accident -- she hadn’t really thought he’d be hiding out in repairs. When she sees what he’s doing, however, it registers.

He drops his screwdriver when she walks in, head whipping toward the door. He looks defensive, ready to explain his actions until he realizes that it’s Jyn standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” she says. Her voice echoes in the empty room. “Want some company?”

“I would,” he admits after a beat, standing up to hustle her to his seat. “Here -- you should sit. I don’t think that you should be standing.”

“Don’t tell the medics,” she quips, sitting down. That gets a smile out of him. As he drags over another chair, she looks at his progress. There’s broken droid parts all over -- joints and fingers and a single arm. A head sits propped up against the wall. She wonders where he managed to find that.

“Kay made a backup before Scarif,” Cassian says in response to her unspoken question. “I thought I could try to fix him a new body. If it doesn’t work. . .” he shrugs. “I guess I could always put him in an astromech.”

“I could always hijack a medical droid for you,” she offers with a smile. “There’s one in particular who has something against me, I swear.”

“Or maybe it’s because you’re terrible when you’re hurt.”

“I am not,” she huffs, though there's a grin on his face. They sit in silence after that. Jyn watches him work. There’s a certain grace to mechanics that she’s never quite figured out. Saw had deemed her too impatient for detail-orientated work like repairs, and had sent her off to go shoot something. She hadn’t objected.

She wishes that she had. Still, she offers up her meager services. “I could help. Not much though. Never been good with, you know, repairing things.” She bites her lip. “I’ve always been better at destroying than building.”

They both know she’s not just talking about mechanics anymore.

“You’re wearing my jacket,” he says slowly, as if that’s the first thing that pops in his mind and he’s still trying to figure out what he exactly wants to tell her

“I came to return it,” she says, unzipping the front and starting to shrug it off.

“No -- no. Keep it. It -- “ The tips of his ears turn bright red. “It suits you.”

“Oh,” she replies awkwardly, pulling it back on and zipping it up. The conversation pauses, both of them shifting uncomfortably, before she dives back in. “I didn’t just come to give you back your coat.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to talk,” she finishes lamely. “About what happened in Coruscant. And after.”

“You want to talk? About Coruscant?”

“That’s what I just said,” she fires back hotly , then apologizes. “Sorry. Yeah. I just wanted to say that I shouldn’t have hidden the blaster wound. I should have told you that it was bad. But I was so worried about you, with your leg and almost dying and all. . .” she shrugs. “It won’t happen again.”

“No, Jyn,” he reaches out to her, as if going to grab her hand, but pulls away at the last second. Jyn finds herself strangely disappointed. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Not after you saved me. I mean, yes, don’t hide your wounds but. . .Force, Jyn. I thought I had lost you.”

This time, she doesn’t hesitate. She grabs his hand and holds it tightly. “You didn't, though. I’m here. I’m alive.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, squeezing her fingers. “Yeah, me too. We made it.”

They both know he’s not just talking about Coruscant anymore.

“I meant what I said on Bodhi’s ship back oh Yavin,” she says quietly. “I joined because you’re here. I mean, all of you -- Chirrut, Baze, Bodhi -- them too. But mostly because I wanted to stay with you. Not because I feel like I owe you for coming back for me, but because I want to.”

“I was afraid you’d run,” Cassian admits quietly , not looking at her. “You were like a ghost after Scarif. And when you got injured, I panicked, thinking that was the last straw. That'd you leave as soon as you got discharged. So I snapped. Cut myself off from you. I thought it would be easier when you left.”

He turns to look at her, genuine relief shining in his eyes. "I'm glad you decided to stay."

“Me too,” she agrees. He dips his head in response. “Cassian?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” For everything.

He squeezes her hand tighter, smiling.

That night, Jyn goes to his room for the first time since they’ve landed on Hoth. It’s bitterly cold in the hallway, even with his jacket and two of her blankets piled up on her shoulders. She hesitates a second before knocking, telling herself to stop being so ridiculous. She needs help, he offered it, that’s all this is. Nothing more.

When Cassian opens the door, he looks surprised to see her. There’s a datapad in his hand and he’s still in his parka, the one with the fluffy hood. For a moment, she’s lost for words. “Back on Yavin, you said if I needed to -- it’s kriffing cold out here. Can I come in?”

When he doesn’t reply, she thinks that he’s going to turn her away. She braces herself, ready to walk back to her room when Cassian steps aside. “Stars, Jyn -- of course.”

His room is a lot bigger than hers. While she doesn’t have to share with another sergeant here on Hoth, her room is about the size of a closet. There’s a bed pushed up against the wall, with a desk in the corner. On the other side of the room, a door leads to --

“You have your own private ‘fresher?”

“Uh, yeah,” Cassian says, peering over her shoulder as she goes to investigate it. It’s small, but it’s a lot nicer than the communal one she has to use. “Most of the higher ranking officials have one.”

“Remind me to ask Mothma for a promotion,” she grumbles, leaving the tiny refresher with a jealous sigh. She stands awkwardly in the center of the room before speaking. A flush creeps up her cheeks and she finds it hard to look at him. “Can I stay here? For the night?”

He softens. “I meant what I said on Yavin, Jyn.”

“Okay,” she nods, sitting down on the corner of his bed. Her fingers curl around the container of ointment she brought with her. Taking a deep breath, she says in a small voice, “And do you think you could help me with my back? I. . .can’t reach it on my own.”

She hates how her voice sounds, how weak she feels while she waits for his reply. She can’t remember a time where she hasn’t been so closed-off. With Saw, the tougher you were, the longer you’d stay alive.

And now Jyn can’t believe how incredibly hard it is for her to ask for help.

Cassian doesn’t even hesitate, moving to sit behind her on his small cot. It’s almost as if he can sense how nervous she is to be this vulnerable around somebody. He takes the container out of her shaking hands as she sheds the blankets and his jacket. He touches the hem of her shirt. “May I?”

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

She doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath when he lifts her shirt. Even in the dim lighting of his room, it must look like a mess. She starts to get up when he doesn’t move to touch her, red spots forming on her cheeks. Asking him for help had been a bad idea. “I shouldn’t have -- you don’t have to, I’ll -- “

“No, Jyn, that’s not -- “ he reaches out to grab her wrist and tugs her gently back on the bed. “I want to help you. If you’ll let me.”

Not trusting her voice, Jyn nods, squeezing her eyes shut. She flinches when his fingers first touch her back, but soon melts into his touch. The burn lotion gives her immediate relief, soothing away all the discomfort that she’s been forced to bear since Scarif. She should have asked him to do this a long time ago.

He finishes quickly, though leaves her shirt up by her shoulders so the ointment can dry. She turns to him, throat dry. “Do you. . .” she motions to the jar in his hands. “I can help you too. If you want.”

“I wasn’t burned as badly as you,” he says, standing up to place the jar on his desk. The bed feels colder without him sitting next to her. “Why did you do that?” At her look of confusion, he elaborates. “On Scarif. You moved to cover me from the blast.”

Oh. She hadn't thought he noticed.

“I thought we were going to die,” she admits. “We should have. But even then. . .I wanted to protect you. I wouldn't have been able to bear it if. . .”

It sounds crazy, she knows, trailing off. She can't exactly explain why she did it, only that she had to. In that moment, she had felt as if there were no other choice.

And months later, she still feels the same.

But Cassian’s nodding as if he understands exactly what she’s saying. They don’t say anything after that. Jyn tugs her shirt back down, pulling his jacket and the blankets back around her shoulders. She opens her mouth to speak, but he beats her to it. “You can have the bed. I’ll take the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says immediately, making a spot for herself up against the wall. With her extra blankets combined with his, it’s a lot warmer than her cot is. “It’s your room. There’s enough space for both of us.”

For a second, he looks like he’s going to object, but decides against it. With a sigh, he slides in next to her, careful not to touch her.

It’s too cold not to share body heat. That’s why as soon as Cassian gets settle next to her, she immediately moves to his side, wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Jyn -- “

“Shush,” she murmurs, burrowing her head into the crook of his shoulder. When he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, she lets out a sigh of pleasure.

“ -- You’re still wearing my jacket.”

“Mhmm,” she agrees. “It’s warm. And it smells like you.”

He chuckles at that, resting his cheek on top of her head. As she drifts off to sleep, she swears that she can feel his lips against her forehead.

It’s the best night of sleep she’s gotten ever since she’s joined the Alliance. And when they’re both a little late to a debriefing the next morning, bleary-eyed and still disheveled from sleep, it doesn't matter.

For the first time in as long as she can remember, she's happy.

(In the back of the room, Chirrut hits Baze with his walking stick, a knowing smile playing across his lips.)

Jyn comes back to his room the next night. And the night after that and the one after that too. Soon enough, she's spending more time in his rooms than she is in her own.

Nobody’s surprised when she decides to move in with him shortly after.

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fanfic #rebelcaptain fic #ro fanfic #rogue one fanfic #rogue one #ANYWAY this is the 10k monster hope y'all like it #my writing

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azrielsiphons · 7 years

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Prequel; Azriel-Centric Stories Set Before ACOTAR (ch. 6)

This is a collection of interconnected short stories about Azriel’s life before any of the events of ACOTAR through ACOWAR.

CHAPTER 6: BREEN

Make sure to read Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 4.5, Ch. 5, Ch. 7, Ch. 8, Ch. 9, Ch. 10

Read the follow up fic, Shadows and Darkness: One and the Same

Time Frame: 380 years after Rhys is made High Lord

Summary: An offshoot group of high fae have been rumored to be trafficking humans into the Middle as a form of entertainment. Azriel goes to check out the situation and gets into a fight with disastrous consequences. Help comes in the strangest of forms.

Azriel touched down silently, his boots not making even the slightest of sounds on the forest floor as he tucked his wings in tight. A glance to the left and a glance to the right had him releasing a soft breath, rolling out his shoulders. He hadn’t flown that far in a long time and he was feeling it now — he would be in the morning too.

Technically he was in Dawn Court lands, but he was so close to the border, practically on top of it, that no one would sense him. Not that anyone would have to begin with. His siphons flared as he double checked both his shields and shadows.

The flight had taken hours, but he couldn’t risk depleting his magic to even winnow in close to his destination — not when he didn’t know what he would be walking in to.

The rumors were… awful. There was no other word to describe them. According to his spies in both the Dawn and Winter Courts as well as in the mortal lands, there was a group of high fae that belonged to no court bringing humans into the outskirts of the Middle. Apparently these high fae were using the humans as a form of entertainment or sport.

The stories were all bits and pieces, but from what Azriel could piece together, the fae were using the humans as bait for some of the worst, nastiest creatures of the Middle. And then the fae would sit back and watch the slaughter.

Azriel snarled as he checked his various blades. If he came upon those fae he would be the one doing the slaughtering.

His steps were careful, quiet as the night as he began making his way closer to the border of the Middle. Cassian had wanted to join him, as had Mor, but Azriel wouldn’t risk all three of them when he didn’t know what they would be faced with. The plan was that he would assess the situation and then return to Velaris without making contact.

But if he saw those fae, he knew what he would do.

A few minutes later and Azriel knew he had officially crossed into the Middle. It was… quieter. Heavier. Ancient magic weighed down on his shoulders. His pace slowed as he became extra cautious. He had only been to the Middle a handful of times. The creatures there were… awful. Fortunately the sun was still out, though going down quickly.

When night came to fruition, that was when it would be the most dangerous.

A scarred hand whipped out a blade in the time it took for one’s heart to beat. Azriel froze, listening intently and sending out his shadows to investigate as he heard voices and laughter.

Seconds later the shadows came back and showed him what they saw. Azriel grimaced, trudging forward.

Minutes later he was crouched atop a small cliff, looking down at a haphazardly thrown together camp. He encased himself in shadow in case anyone decided to start sightseeing.

There were five fae. Four of them were standing around a group of about ten humans, dirty and bleeding and trembling, taunting them. Azriel gripped his blade tighter.

The fifth one, who looked to be the leader, was perched atop a nearby rock — their heavy hooded cloak completely hiding them from view. Azriel had the faintest feeling that he had seen that cloak before, but he shoved it away. It wasn’t the time.

Whoever the fae was, they were sitting and watching carefully. Azriel sniffed, but caught nothing. They must be shielding themselves. A paranoid leader, then. With good reason. He was going to rip out their throat.

“You’re going to be dinner tonight!” One of the fae shouted at the humans, spitting on them. “Dinner for a big nasty beastie!”

Azriel started, sitting up straighter. That accent - it wasn’t of Prythian.

These fae were from Hybern.

The King must be testing the waters again, Azriel thought to himself. Hungry for another war perhaps. Or perhaps this is just a group of extremists fascinated by the Middle.

It really didn’t matter. He was going to slaughter them anyway.

“As soon as the sun goes down,” another of the fae hissed, toying with a teenage girl’s matted hair as she cried, “We’re going to cut you loose and see how fast you can run.”

Azriel had had enough. A second later he was winnowing, noting in the back of his mind that the cloaked fae had tilted their head in his direction the exact moment he touched his magic.

The moment he was down in the camp, he had two blades out — one in each hand. A heartbeat later each of those knives was embedded deep in the eyesockets of two of the fae.

The other two taunting the humans roared, whipping out their own blades. The humans screamed, falling over themselves as they tried to scramble away amidst their chains.

The closest fae whipped out a Hybern-made sword and swung with a cry. It met Azriel’s Illyrian blade above their heads with an awful clang. Locked in that position, Azriel kicked at the fae’s chest, sending him flying backwards. Before he hit the ground, Azriel flung another blade right at his chest.

Two left, the shadows whispered

He should have seen it coming. The shadows should have warned him. But the moment he turned, blade raised as he heard the fourth fae come charging, the powder was flying into his face.

The coughing came immediately and Azriel fell to his knees. He raised his blade up just in time to block the fourth fae’s swing. He pushed back with all his might, but something was… wrong.

His strength started to fade immediately, and a wave of nausea overcame him as his shadows disappeared.

Faebane, he realized with horror.

As the last of his enhanced hearing faded from him, Azriel heard the fourth fae laughing, stalking towards him. With blind rage and blurry sight, he flung his sword straight forward.

It missed.

The fae laughed, still walking towards him but Azriel couldn’t see. His head felt heavy and his senses were dulling too quickly for him to keep up with. There was a ringing in his ears and then—

The fae screamed. Did he throw another blade? He couldn’t remember. Everything was so heavy, the air was too tight in his lungs and the trees were blurring and moving and where were his shadows? He looked down to his hand only to see the blue of his siphons flickering in a blur.

Holding onto his blade as tightly as possible, he swung blindly, but a kick to his hands had it knocked away from him. He tried to call up a shield, but it was too heavy — everything was just too heavy.

He tried to look up once more, but it was futile. The Middle was spinning, moving too quickly for him as he fell onto his side once more. Through the spinning there was a flash of violet.

Had Rhys come to save him? He knew that violet. Did Rhys kill the other fae, was that why he was still breathing?

He tried to speak out, to call out to Rhys, but then there were hands on the front of his leathers and it was certainly not Rhys’s hands.

The grip was familiar — familiar and he hated it. The faebane was messing with his mind, the sudden loss of his magic too strong for his brain to handle so it resorted to memories to help him cope, to help him survive. And who better to help him survive than the thought of her?

He tried yet again to touch his magic, to shield, to winnow, to something. It was useless. He was useless.

He could hear screaming, saying his name with desperation. Why — why would the Cauldron do this to him?

He could smell her — even without his better senses he knew that scent. The faebane had truly made him crazy.

“Azriel! You have to winnow! You have to get out of here!”

Why? Why did it have to be her the faebane drew to mind? She hadn’t haunted his dreams in so long…

“There are more coming! Dammit Az, winnow! Please!”

The last time he had heard her voice crack like that she was leaving him after begging him to fight for her. Why hadn’t he fought for her?

Her ghost was shaking him, begging him. He must surely be dead if she were with him. He hoped Rhys and Cassian and Mor didn’t mourn him for too long. Amren would be fine.

“Shit, shit.”

Azriel tried to laugh. It had always made him laugh when she cursed.

Suddenly a warm darkness wrapped around him and he was being flung. The darkness was warm and familiar and deep within his soul he felt a light he hadn’t felt in centuries and she was holding his hand — lacing their fingers together like so long ago and damn the Cauldron for haunting him with this and then —

The ground was hard and cold and he cried out as his shoulder popped out of place. He tried to open his eyes once more, his eyelids heavy and a pressure on his chest — a terrible pressure.

The faebane hallucination was blissful and terrible and he reached out to those violet eyes he had almost forgotten, trying to push back that dark hair that always fell in front of her face, her beautiful face.

For so long he had thought her eyes were the same as Rhys’s but only now as he stared at her ghost did he remember that they were a completely different shade.

His eyelids drooped shut before he could touch her ghost, the ringing in his ears returning with full force. He felt himself being pulled under. He didn’t mind. The Cauldron was kind for letting him see her once again before death.

“Help him, please.”

“Lena…”

Everything went black. He welcomed the darkness.

~~~~~

His head was throbbing.

He reached out to his shadows only to be met with… nothing. He couldn’t hear. He couldn’t feel.

It all came rushing back to him. The humans. The fight. The faebane. The terrible, wonderful hallucination.

He tried to move, but his limbs felt like they were underwater.

Get up, get up, he told himself.

With a grunt of pain, he was able to open his eyes.

Only to be met with a small orange creature sitting on his chest. Two giant brown eyes blinked at him.

He yelped, his instincts taking over as his heavy limbs reached for his knives slower than he had ever moved before. The creature screamed as well — a high pitched noise as it jumped away, disappearing faster than he could track with his dulled senses.

He sat up, stumbling to his feet only to fall back down once again. He bit down hard on his lip as a pained cry tried to escape from him. His shoulder was dislocated.

Blinking through both the horrendous pain and the blurry film over his eyes, he was able to at least note that he was still in the Middle.

In the Middle, alone, with no magic and only one knife left on his person.

He was well and truly fucked.

But at least he was still alive. Impossibly so.

Still in a half-heap on the ground, the orange creature from before came waddling back up. It was small, perhaps the size of Azriel’s head. It had a single black stripe going down its back and giant brown eyes.

Azriel tried and failed to point his knife threateningly.

“Get back,” he said weakly, his voice hoarse. He was dehydrated. How long had he been on this forest floor? How was he not dead?

The creature only stared, blinking its big eyes. Its little hands moved from behind its back, revealing a leaf shaped like a bowl with water in it. Azriel cocked his head to the side.

“Going to help, going to help,” the creature murmured, waddling forward. Azriel tried to scoot back, only to stumble over a rock, his blade clattering away from him.

Is this what it feels like to be mortal? He thought to himself.

Azriel reached out from where he lay on his back and gripped Truth Teller as tightly as he could — which wasn’t much. The creature continued moving towards him, unafraid now as he approached the weakened shadowsinger.

“Going to help,” the creature repeated, holding out the leaf.

Azriel stared it down, thinking of the best way to kill this thing and get away as fast as possible. He had to get in contact with Rhys, perhaps get back into the Dawn Court, but that would be a death sentence too since he wasn’t even supposed to be there…

He looked down at the water the creature was offering. Slowly, carefully, it waddled closer and raised the leaf up to Azriel’s lips.

After sniffing the liquid — which was essentially useless considering the faebane’s lingering effects — Azriel let the creature tilt the liquid into his mouth. He swallowed heartily, hoping and praying to the Cauldron that it was just water.

After he finished, his throat already feeling better, the creature jumped backwards and held the leaf to its chest. A giant smile broke out on its face, two rows of sharp teeth on display.

“Breen helped, Breen helped!” It cheered happily.

What the hell?

Painfully, slowly, Azriel was able to sit up. With a few grunts he scooted back to lean against a tree. The creature — Breen — came and sat about three feet in front of him with a smile.

“Breen?” Azriel asked hoarsely. “Your name is Breen?” The creature nodded excitedly.

“Breen helping!” It said. “Breen helping, the lady asked Breen to help so Breen helped.”

Azriel perked up at that, his eyes widening.

“What lady?”

“Pretty lady, strong lady,” Breen answered quickly. Before Azriel could say another word, Breen waddled over a few meters to his left to another tree and pulled up a root. He blew the dirt off of it as he returned to Azriel. “Eat, eat.”

Azriel hesitated. “What is it?”

“Eat, eat!”

Azriel sighed, deciding he had literally no other options except to trust this tiny orange creature that could very well be trying to kill him. Taking the root in his shaking hands, he chewed it slowly. Almost immediately his headache subsided and he groaned, leaning his head back against the tree and loosing a breath of pure relief.

Breen cheered, hopping around on its webbed feet. Azriel lifted his head back up.

“What lady told you to help me?” He asked harshly, his mind flashing back to the hallucinations he had had of… her.

“Pretty lady, strong lady,” Breen repeated his words from earlier.

“What did she look like?”

Breen cocked his head to the side, blinking his giant eyes.

“Scary eyed lady,” was all he said.

Azriel sighed, taking another bite of the root and breathing deeply. He would worry about whoever saved his ass later. Whoever it was, the faebane poisioning his mind and magic and body had turned them into Lena and thinking on that too much at that moment was… painful.

“Lady told me to help, Breen wants to help,” Breen said happily, gathering more of the root.

“Will this help me get my magic back?” Azriel asked as he held out the root.

Breen shook his head. “No, no magic. Not until next sun.”

Azriel cursed and Breen tilted his head, clearly not understanding.

“Where are we?”

“Breen’s home!”

“Which is…?”

“Away from the monsters.”

Azriel could have cried in relief. “There’s no other creatures around here? We’re safe?”

Breen tilted his head in confusion once again. “Lots of creatures here,” he said as if that were obvious. “But no pointy ears. Breen far from pointy ears.”

The fae. Breen thought the fae were the monsters — the ones playing with the humans for sport.

“The lady who brought me,” Azriel said slowly, “Was she a pointy eared monster?”

Breen nodded. Azriel pinched his nose with his thumb and forefinger. What fae woman saved him back there and dumped him somewhere else in the Middle? Damn that faebane for getting him caught up in useless memories instead of seeing what was really there.

No, not useless. Just painful.

It didn’t matter. He would find out who the female was later.

He needed a plan right then — a plan to get home to the Night Court. He couldn’t wander further into the Middle with no magic, that would be a death sentence. Breen said his magic would be back by the following day, so he could leave then. At least wherever he and Breen were at that moment seemed to be free of some of the more awful creatures of the Middle.

But the sun was still up. When it went down…

“Well Breen,” Azriel said with a weak smile down at the harmless creature. “It looks like we’re going to be friends for the night.”

~~~~~

The sun fell over the next several hours as Breen chattered on with nonsense that Azriel couldn’t really understand. Regardless, Azriel was annoyed that he was becoming especially fond of the creature. It was innocent, and kind. Far different than anything he understood about the Middle.

At one point while Breen was jumping around excitedly muttering something about frogs, Azriel thought to himself that Lena would have loved the creature.

He was going to be stuck in his memories for the next decade. Damn that faebane.

It was only when the sun began making its final descent that Breen went silent. Azriel’s guard went up as he heard distant roaring.

The real monsters had come out to play.

Suddenly, Breen gestured Azriel to follow him up a tree. With a grunt, tucking his wings in tight with his pained muscles and weak shoulder that he had haphazardly popped back into place, he climbed after Breen.

He did so painfully, his equilibrium still severely off from the faebane, but getting better. It must have been a small, diluted amount that he inhaled for him to be feeling small bits of his magic bubbling to the surface. Not nearly enough to get himself out of the Middle before the morning, but something all the same.

After finally making it up the tree — not without almost falling a few times — he and Breen settled onto a branch, quiet as death. The hours of the night passed slowly, horrible sounds coming from seemingly all around them. At one point something particularly awful wandered close to their tree and Breen jumped into Azriel’s arms, hiding his face in the Illyrian’s leathers.

Azriel held him tight. If they died, Breen was as good as anyone to die with.

Somehow, they miraculously made it through the night. As the moon finally fell and the sun rose, the sounds of the creatures disappeared, the monsters retreating to whatever holes they hid in during the day.

When they finally felt completely safe, it was fully morning. Azriel’s shadows had emerged once more, but only at half their usual forced. He flexed his hands as he climbed down the tree, Breen perched on his back. His siphons flickered. Still weak, but… there.

Breen hopped off of Azriel’s back once they were back on the ground, and looked up at the shadowsinger with awe, his shadows reflecting in the creature’s big eyes. He couldn’t help but smile.

He liked Breen, he was fond of him. And the creature saved his life. He was so at odds with everything Azriel believed about the Middle.

“Breen, do you like living here?”

Breen’s toothy smile disappeared and he shook his head. “No, Breen don’t like. Monsters and creatures try to hurt Breen.”

“Would you want to come with me?”

“Do you have pointy eared monsters?”

Azriel nodded. “But they’re safe. I promise.” He knelt down, extending a calloused, scarred hand for Breen to jump in to. He lifted Breen so they were eye level. “You helped me, Breen. I can help you now too.”

Breen’s sharp teeth flashed once again.

“Breen helped!” He shouted excitedly.

He hopped down from Azriel’s hand, bounding all about and cheering. Azriel couldn’t help but smile, taking Breen’s reaction as a yes to coming back to Velaris with him. Mor was going to adore him.

“Breen helped, Breen h—”

Bree went silent as an arrow went straight through his eye.

Azriel roared, turning and raising a horribly weak blue shield just in time to avoid two ash arrows hitting his own body. The shield gave out almost instantly and Azriel just barely managed to pick up Breen’s limp body in one hand and dive behind a tree, avoiding three more arrows.

Clutching Breen to his chest, he glanced around the tree for a split second. His vision was still weak, but there were at least three fae shooting at him — one of them the cloaked figure from the day prior. Whoever had saved him hadn’t killed the fae leader.

But that didn’t make any sense. How had he gotten out of there?

Not now, the shadows said weakly.

He couldn’t fight them. The arrows stopped suddenly and he heard laughter. The fae were stalking towards him.

Flexing his hand, Azriel looked down at his siphons. He said a quick prayer to the Cauldron and tapped into every ounce of magic and willpower he could muster, and winnowed.

It hurt.

He cried out in pain, holding Breen as tightly as he could as he winnowed, the blue of his siphons cutting at his skin. Seconds later, after fearing he would be ripped in half, he landed on his back — crying out as he fell upon the damp, cold ground.

With a groan, he sat up. He had made it just outside Velaris, on the cliffs by the sea. If he squinted, he could see the city a few miles off.

He looked down at his hands. At Breen’s tiny, limp body.

The small creature with a toothy smile that just wanted to help. A dreamer stuck in the Middle.

He buried him on the cliffs overlooking the sea. He hoped Breen would have liked it. He had a feeling the creature would have liked anything that wasn’t the Middle.

When Azriel got back to Velaris, he didn’t tell his family about his hallucinations. They didn’t need to have those memories bubbling to the surface, he didn’t want them to have to share that burden.

He did tell them about the fae from Hybern though. And about the faebane. And about Breen.

Mor cried when she heard what happened to him.

Three days later when Azriel was fully recovered, he, Rhys, Cassian, and Mor all went back to the Middle. Amren stayed to watch Velaris, much to her discontent.

They slaughtered twelve fae that were toying with the humans and returned the tortured humans back to their lands after Rhys wiped their memory.

The cloaked leader was nowhere in sight.

He would find them though. One day.

#acomaf fanfiction #acowar fanficiton #azriel #azriel fanfiction #acowar #my writing #prequel project by moe #LEMME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK #heh heh heh #cue evil laughter #I GOT PLANS #YALL FIGURED THEM OUT YET?#seriously though please reblog and talk to me

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bronson · 7 years

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Wake Up. Nessian fic

pt.2

pt 1, pt. 3

alright still not super juicy yet, but we’re getting there. i’m not gonna reveal what the fic is based on yet, there are only bits and pieces in it but it’s slowly forming.

also i had to include some Fifty Shades action in there, what with Nesta’s love of romance novels, so that’s what the book excerpt is. (that part is slightly NSFW, but only barely.)

It had been a few hours since Cassian had left and he still had not returned. Nesta remained unbothered and continued to lounge in large bed, reading the book she had brought, some random thing about a local fae falling for a mysterious visitor. It definitely wasn’t the best she had ever read, but it was enjoyable enough. Suddenly, she was interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. She assumed it was Cassian, and molded her features into a cold resolve. But when she opened the door, she was surprised to find Viviane behind it.

“Just wanted to let you know we’re setting up for dinner,” she reported. “Come to the dining room if you wish.” Before Nesta could deliver a snide reply, Viviane started back down the hall.

Nesta walked back towards the case she had brought with her. She had only brought one dress worthy of a dinner, a deep blue number with gold detailing. She decided it would work and changed. She styled her hair into a more formal updo and slipped on a pair of gold earrings. She sighed. Well, I can’t go to this dinner alone. Where is Cassian? She looked out the window of the room, onto the icy streets of the court. He must be down there, where else would he be?

Donning a cloak, she marched out of her room and out of the manor onto the streets. She walked past different merchants and storefronts, children playing with the snow, couples enjoying an evening stroll. Glaring at anyone who dared look at her, she searched the side streets for her Illyrian friend. She had made it into the middle of the town, when she heard some sort of fight happening in an alley. She turned towards the snowy walkway and started to approach the group of males shoving each other.

She was about to walk away when she noticed a pair of wings poking above the fray.

Nesta’s eyes narrowed and she stalked toward the group. She realized there were at least five males surrounding Cassian, and though he could certainly handle himself, five seemed like too large a number for Nesta to ignore. She was still a foot away when the first punch was thrown. And she was still a few steps away when she spotted the glint of a knife within one of the males’ hands. By the time she got to the brawl, Cassian had knocked out two of the fae. He was about to land a massive blow on one of the rest as the knife Nesta had spotted was thrust out towards Cassian’s neck. Nesta exploded.

The force of her power, raw and uncontrolled, threw the remaining three men to the end of the alleyway, knocked out cold. But it also threw Nesta back into the opposite wall, hitting her head and dropping to the ground. All she heard before her consciousness faded completely was Cassian’s broken voice cry out, “Nesta!”

“‘For him, right now, I’d do anything. ‘Stop,’ he says. I’m facing the bed, away from him. His arm encircles my waist, pulling me against him, and he nuzzles my neck. Gently he cups my breasts, toying with them, while his thumbs circle over my nipples so that they strain against the fabric of my corset. ‘Mine,’ he whispers. ‘Yours,’ I breathe.’”

Nesta opened her eyes to find Cassian sitting on a chair in front of her with her book open in his hands. Her eyes widened and she snatched it away.

“I gotta be honest, not the best writing,” he said.

“I didn’t know you were the best judge of things like that,” Nesta replied, sitting up. But as soon as she moved her head ached as if someone had drilled a hole into it. She let out a bark of pain. Immediately Cassian stood up to soothe her.

“Hey, hey, be careful.” He held up a damp cloth and pressed it to her forehead. She hissed out a sigh of slight relief as the cold calmed the ache. “You took a really hard fall out there.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t been out there picking fights I wouldn’t have had to,” Nesta snipped, though less forcefully than she would have liked.

“If you hadn’t kicked me out, I wouldn’t have been out there.”

“You shouldn’t have pissed me off!”

“You should learn how to control yourself!”

Nesta growled and Cassian’s eyes flashed with anger. But he kept the cloth to her forehead. They stared at each other in a quiet rage for a while before Cassian sighed. Nesta smirked, he was always the first to concede.

“I think we may have missed dinner,” Nesta grumbled. Cassian chuckled.

“We may have.” He wiped the cold cloth down down her cheek. A water droplet raced down from her temple to her chin, but she could barely feel it. Their eyes, still boring into each other, heated with something other than rage.

Barely audible, Cassian whispered, “Thank you, by the way.” She looked at him, her eyes inquiring. “For saving me from a nasty knife wound.” A whisper of a smile formed on Nesta lips.

“Thank you for not leaving me out in the cold,” she replied just as quietly. He smiled.

“Since we missed dinner, we may have to find some,” Cassian said, gesturing to the window. Nesta sighed, they probably would.

“Fine.” She looked down at herself, seeing that she was still wearing the blue gown. “Do you have anything appropriate to wear for a night on the town?”

Cassian looked to his pack and sighed. “All I have is a gold vest and what I’m wearing now, besides my leathers.” Nesta rolled her eyes.

“Why did you bring your leathers? We’re not going into battle.”

“The hug my muscles well.” He grinned.

“Oh, get over yourself, Beauty.” Nest shifted up, minding her head, and slowly slipped off the bed. She stood and steadied herself, only a whisper of the ache remained in her head. She looked to find Cassian watching her.

“You’re good?” She nodded and walked over to inspect this gold vest he had mentioned. It would do, she supposed. Over the loose white shirt he was wearing and his black pants. Sure, it’d be fine.

She walked to the mirror that hung on the wall and inspected her looks. Her fae blood had eased any outward appearance of injury, and there was no bump or anything when she felt the back of her head. A tad relieved, she turned back to Cassian to find him in the bathroom, fixing his hair. She waited for him for a few minutes and picked her book up, flipping through mindlessly. She somehow found her eyes drifting over Cassian’s muscular legs, up to his backside, to his bulging arms as they tied his hair into that bun she secretly loved. When she involuntarily sighed, she shook herself and focused back on the book. After seven more minutes of his preening, Nesta cleared her throat.

“Anytime now,” she said, impatiently. Cassian winked at himself in the mirror and sauntered over to her.

“Shall we?” He offered up his arm to her. The quiet smile appeared on her face again as she took his arm and they exited the room into the hall

As they walked through the hall and out of the manor, Nesta could swear she heard Viviane whisper, “I’m telling you, there’s something there,” and Kallias’s responding chuckle.

#angst #nesta #cassian #nessian #acowar #acotar #acomaf #archeron #illyrian #fic

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goforcechokeyourself · 7 years

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Battlefront 2 Master Post

Alright so this is my master post I was wanting to make where I talk about battlefront 2, I attended the swco2017 battlefront 2 panel and was shown the “exclusive” content video after the main stream was cut to all the online audiences so I’m going to talk about that and basically everything else we current know about battlefront

So first off the game is set to release nov. 17th 2017, the game can be played earlier by 1. purchasing the Elite trooper edition (79.99) which will allow you a 3 day early access to the game (nov. 14th) and or 2. by being apart of of ea access which is exclusive to x box one and origin on pc which will let you start playing on (nov. 9th).

NO SEASON PASS (what could this mean?)

Battlefront 2 (ea) will feature a single player campaign as well as up to 40 player multiplayer. It will spread across all eras including prequel, original, and sequel trilogies. Space battles have been confirmed as well as offline co-op for console editions. Classes are making a debut in this as one of the changes from their earlier installment in their battlefront games (2015) as well as a weapon modification system and abilities customization options.

Prequel content

So lets get right into the mix shall we? like most of you here I assume your biggest worry was the prequel content right? Clone wars was a huge part of my enjoyment for the other battlefront games from the 2000′s and my childhood in general; so the announcement of prequels being included in this immediately spiked my interest!

(picture below is a scene from the trailer where it shows maul and yoda about to face off)

Even after seeing this though (which is the only prequel content shown in the trailer :’/ ) I was skeptical about the appearance of the clones, ideas worked around in my head about nasty ol’ EA making a hero only mode which feature prequel characters and while that would still be a step up from not having them in the game at all it really pissed me off because I want the clones dammit and those stupid little battle droids too. So after the stream cut off at swco2017 EA’s panel for battlefront 2 they told us to turn off our phones and that they would be showing us something exclusive to us. Basically a video of the dev team and their journey making the game riddled with secrets and bits of concept art and more information about the game. They also showed a slide show before this with bits and pieces of art for the games and both of those mixed with information I’ve gathered on my own will be presented now in this post.

So back to the clones, are they making it into the game? YES THEY WILL!

(picture above is a piece of concept art featuring clones some sporting jetbacks fighting a battle on the water planet of Kamino)

Yes the clones will be apart of this game thank the maker! I was a little upset that no actually footage of them is shown or any actually close up art or models for them was shown but considering the games launch is still pretty far off I understand and will be patient.

(picture below features a battle droid from the separatists side)

However we did get a look at a game model for a battle droid! Which I am pleased to say looks very nice indeed.

Okay so what about planets? Well Kamino is the only one we have a visual for sadly, however in the description for the “elite” version of the game available for pre order on amazon.com it is revealed that Theed will be playable as well (will we see the gungans???).

Phase 1 clones are the only ones shown via art so no information about if we will see phase 2 clones is available right now that I know of unfortunately. But I for one am very excited at the prospect of clones in my battlefront game once again after 12 years.

Original and Sequel trilogy content

Lets take a look at some of the other eras, both the original and the sequel trilogy will have maps and troopers and verticals available for play in both multiplayer and single player (it was not discussed if any prequel content would make it into the single player but we will get into that later)

(picture above shows kylo ren leading a group of first order troopers into battle on star killer base)

TFA & TLJ content will be available in the game little is talked about what TLJ content will be shown in game beside the pre order bonus of bonus outfits for rey and kylo and some unique abilities and skins for the falcon and a TFO fighter?

Maybe we will see Maz’s castle as a playable map? who knows.

As far as the original trilogy content goes for multiplayer. We have Hoth confirmed, Yavin 4, Endor, Tatooine, and the main character (iden) of the single players home world Vardos

(pictured about the new planet Vardos)

Also something to be excited about even tho we are in fact seeing some reappearing planets from the earlier installment (2015) is that there are new details about the planets yet unexplored by DICE. Such as being able to ride the taun tauns! this might not sound like much but I loved riding them in the old 2005 installment of battlefront so this pleases me very much.

(pictured rebel soldier riding tauntaun into a snow trooper)

The scout trooper and tie pilot will be available as skins (or classes?) I assume as both of them are shown in the trailer.

(pictured above Iden and the inferno sqaud on endor in tie fighter like apparel)

Okay so we got the OT, PT, & ST all taken care of as far as content so what else can we expect from this game that is new?

Whats new?

Well new ground vehicles have been confirmed yet again via amazon description

So we have tanks, what can be expected from this some of those glorious tanks from Battlefront 2 (2005) maybe? Only the future can tell.

We have an assortment of new weapons like the A280-CFE blaster rifle (used by mr cassian andor in rogue one)

We have the return of the class system tho not as large as the 2005′s roster. Battlefront 2 (ea) will have 4 different classes with different play styles featured in their game specialist, heavy, officer, and assault. From my assumption assault will be the regular trooper type (battle droids, clone trooper, storm trooper etc.) and specialist will be things like scout troopers, bothans, assassin droids. Heavy troopers will consist of wookiees, droidekas, tfa heavy trooper and last but not least the officer class seems pretty self explanatory.

(pictured from left to right specialist, heavy, officer, assault)

Abilities and Customization

One of the other new things that will be in this new installment is abilities. This will be the answer to the power up icons found as pick ups in the last game.

The only ability that I have heard about is reys mind trick and kylo’s “force freeze” so we will have to wait and hear more about them.

Heroes

As far as heroes go we will definitely be seeing Rey, Kylo, Darth Maul, Yoda, and Han Solo as been confirmed as well.

(pictured below is rey running through a jungle or forest planet shown in the trailer)

Single Player Campaign

There will be a single player campaign featured in battlefront 2 (ea). The focus of this campaign will be about a woman named Iden who is the leader of Inferno sqaud (yes that same one). The campaign will span 30 years connecting ROTJ to TFA and will center around Idens resolve to get revenge on the rebel alliance and it’s heroes for killing her emperor an for the most part destroying her empire “this is where the real war begins”. In the trailer shows of starkiller base are shown and her and the inferno squad dispatching rebels and numerous space battles both with rebels of the OT and ST. Also a very interesting scene of her holding luke skywalker hostage? with a DH-17. So pretty exciting right? it has been announced that this story will be CANON. There is also going to be a tie in novel for the game named Battlefront 2 Inferno squad and that comes out in July. The novel will take place 4 years before the game and give some insight into Iden’s background and life pre the events of ROTJ.

Now lets get into the content that was shown after the cameras went off.

A lot of concept art was shown for various locations via computer screens people were working on as well as actual pieces shown to us one that I would like to talk about was a scene of the rebel troopers from ROTJ in which the infamous bearded trooper is seen. I thought this was interesting because the picture seems largely focus around the bearded trooper and as it’s been made aware Dave Filoni is currently working to try to make the fan theory that, that trooper is in fact captain rex from star wars rebels. So this brings up the question will rex be playable in this game?

another piece of interesting concept art was a sea cave map? it’s hard to tell what planet this was on if I had to guess I would say naboo? but it could very well be a new planet. this piece of art was very beautiful though so hopefully it gets turned into a good map.

There was lots of shots of places and models very obscured because you were looking at them not directly so it’s hard to say exactly what most of them are there very well could be a video of this someone snuck so you’re welcome to look for it to try and pick through it but as for me the only 2 real things that stuck out for me I just mentioned above. I would want to bore you all with my speculations on what obscure images in concept art could mean that I barely remember so I shall not.

To round it all up

I am pretty excited for this game, I was not so much pleased with the last installment in 2015. I was a stalwart defender of it during the announcement stage and even during beta stage but now that it’s all said and done and all the content has been released and it’s been left to rot on the servers I find myself forever bothered by why it was even made. If you want my personal opinion I believe DICE used the game as somewhat of a tech demo not only for this game but for Battlefield 1 which irritates me because I had so much passion for it when it was coming out and the return of battlefront even in the face of adversity. At the swco2017 panel tho I saw the passion of the devs when they talked about this game and I admit even in my doubt I still hold for this game to save myself from being dissapointed I believe this game will at least right most of the wrongs that were committed in the first game.

I hope everyone who is excited for battlefront 2 or just wanted information enjoys my post about it, May the force be with you all.

#star wars #battlefront 2 #EA #swco2017 #video games

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ssimpleandclean · 7 years

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Faith (Rebelcaptain week, day 3)

rebelcaptain week, day 3: undercover

Read it on AO3! Full text after the cut.

Why is it, Cassian wonders wryly, that when things go wrong, they always do so spectacularly?

It’s not enough that his cover got blown. It’s not enough that it happened too quickly for the rest of Rogue One to come to his aid. It’s not even enough that he got taken down too fast to do anything more than send a single, brief signal out into the void.

No, he just had to get caught in a base under the command of one of the few Imperial officers who’ve seen his face before.

“Well, well, well,” Commander Vantai tuts, circling slowly around Cassian and the two Stormtroopers currently jabbing him in the ribs with their blasters. “Lieutenant Willix. Or have you been promoted since you mysteriously disappeared from my command?”

Cassian takes a deep breath, flexing his wrists against the cuffs currently pinning them at the small of his back, and says nothing.

“I thought not,” Vantai says. He’s awfully proud of himself considering he didn’t recognize Cassian when he first entered the base, but then Vantai was always one to give himself more credit than he was due.

The commander loses interest when Cassian doesn’t rise to the bait. He glances toward the entrance to the hangar bay, squinting past the hazy blue screen protecting them all from the hard vacuum beyond. “Where is that prisoner transport?” he demands of a nearby flunky.

“They’re close, sir,” the man answers hastily. “Their codes cleared; they should be landing any minute.”

“Good,” Vantai says. He turns to regard Cassian again, a slow, nasty smirk curling the corner of his mouth. “It’s your lucky day, Willix. As much as I’d like to interrogate you myself, I have more important matters to attend to.”

Cassian can’t quite keep his eyebrow from quirking upward, but he keeps his mouth shut.

A flash of anger crosses Vantai’s face. Before he can act on it, the forcefield across the mouth of the bay crackles. The shuttle eases in, settling to the ground with a creak of the landing gear. Cassian resists the urge to peer into the viewport for a look at the pilot, even as hope pounds painfully in his chest. Come on, come on…

The ramp takes an eternity to open, the Empire’s signature white haze drifting out of the opening.

A diminutive form emerges from the smoke, flanked by an unusually bulky Stormtrooper. Cassian bites down hard on the inside of his cheek to ward off a grin.

“Took your sweet time getting here,” Commander Vantai says as the two figures approach. “I do have better things to do than wait around, you know.”

Jyn comes to a regulation-perfect stop in front of them, her back ramrod straight. If he didn’t know every inch of her body better than he knew his own, he’d almost have a hard time recognizing her. It startled the hell out of him the first time she did it; Jyn, as it turns out, is a chameleon. Whether it’s natural talent or the result of a life spent on the run, when she takes on a different role, it changes everything about her, down to the way she breathes.

“I’m very sorry, sir,” she says, her tone a spot-on mixture of deference and boredom. “We had a little engine trouble—“

“Never mind, I don’t care,” Vantai says impatiently. “Let’s just get on with it.”

Jyn’s eyes flicker to Cassian. She jerks her head once at the Stormtrooper behind her. He steps past her, heading for Cassian. Vantai’s eyes flicker from the new trooper to the two holding Cassian’s arms, and narrow slightly. There are small differences between Stormtroopers, even the cloned ones, but Baze (and of course, that’s who it is) is considerably bulkier.

Jyn picks that moment to produce a holopad from under one arm. “I’ll just need you to sign off to authorize the transfer, sir.”

Vantai eyes Cassian a moment more, then turns to take the holo. Cassian’s guards surrender him to Baze without a fuss; the Guardian’s grip on his arm is much gentler than the others, his blaster hovering a couple inches away instead of digging into Cassian’s ribs.

“There,” Vantai says, giving the holo back. “Now get out of my sight.”

“Of course, sir,” Jyn says. She executes a perfect parade turn and marches off across the bay. Baze and Cassian trail behind; Cassian puts up a small token resistance, but a glance behind him shows Vantai has already lost interest.

By unspoken agreement, none of them break character until they’ve reached the safety of hyperspace. Then, Jyn groans and stretches, letting her breath out on a sigh. “That act is killer on my back.”

Baze pries the helmet off his head, shaking sweaty hair out of his face. “At least you can breathe.”

“Everything okay down there?” Bodhi calls from the cockpit above.

“All aboard in one piece,” Jyn confirms.

Cassian clears his throat. “A little help?”

Jyn comes to sit beside him on the bench seat. Cassian turns so she can get at the cuffs; her fingers brush against his skin, and he suddenly feels like he could snap them in half if it means he could touch her again. But he can’t, so he forces himself to hold still.

“What happened?” she asks as she works.

He shrugs. “It’s a long story. I got unlucky.”

“Sounds pretty short to me,” Baze comments, pieces of armor clattering to the floor as he carelessly shucks them off.

“Vantai got a little suspicious,” Cassian says, glancing at Jyn.

“I noticed,” she says dryly. “We’ll ditch the shuttle at Corellia; Avan’s meeting us there to give us a ride back to our actual ship. There’s enough activity around there that they shouldn’t be able to follow us.”

“That’s a pretty good plan,” Cassian admits.

Jyn smacks his shoulder gently. “Don’t sound so surprised.” With a jerk, the cuffs finally give way. Cassian groans a little in relief, bringing his wrists around to massage them reflexively.

Baze glances at them, and wordlessly heads up the ladder.

Before Cassian can turn around, Jyn leans into his back, her head resting on one of his shoulders. Her hands drift down his sides; he reaches back to catch one of them, and only then feels the faint tremble in her fingers.

He casts about for a moment for what to say, and settles on, “I knew you would come.”

She butts her head against his shoulder once, lightly. “Don’t do that to me again. I thought…”

“I know,” he says quietly. He turns around then, and she meets him with a kiss, soft and insistent. He slips his arms around her waist, and feels hers do the same to his. She’s shaking, just slightly. Cassian thinks he might be, too.

What he hadn’t said was: he knew they would come, but. If they hadn’t gotten his all-too-brief message. If they hadn’t been able to find a cover in time. If he’d been carted off to some Imperial hellhole somewhere with no way to tell them where he’d been taken…

This could have been a lot worse.

It’s a ten-hour cruise to Corellia. They spend it together.

#rebelcaptainweek #rebelcaptainprompts #therebelcaptainnetwork #rogue one #rebelcaptain #ire writes shit

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ohmytheon · 7 years

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sometimes we forget how to want (rebelcaptain)

Notes: This accidentally got a little more serious than I intended since it was supposed to just be a fun excuse for smut, but this is a painful ship. Still, this is really just...kind of silly and here for a good time. I'm surprised I haven't seen a fic like this already, although I probably just missed it. This particular undercover trope is a necessity for all spy couples after all.

Summary: Cassian has been on a lot of missions before and done a lot of shady things. The second Jyn steps out onto the stage, however, he knows that nothing has prepared him for this, but he's not completely powerless.

Rating: M for smut, adult themes, and gross Imperial dudes

sometimes we forget how to want

It wasn’t the first time that Cassian had been in an establishment like this. Some missions called for him to enter places he would’ve never otherwise stepped foot in, even going so far as having him pretend to enjoy it. He’d done his fair share of morally grey things for the Rebellion. As far as terrible things went, going to a strip club most certainly wasn’t one of the worst. He just had never personally enjoyed them himself. Dark, loud, liquor-filled, and seedy, they did, however, make for great meeting places between informants and also drop offs.

When everyone was considered tainted, it made it much easier to blend in.

Still, Cassian hadn’t been exactly thrilled when they’d been given this mission, Jyn even more so. After all, she was the one that would be doing most of the work. Cassian was there mainly as back up - to keep an eye on her and also make sure things went smoothly - while she would be in the thick of it. And it wasn’t like she was comfortable with the role she was playing. He could still remember her growling furiously from behind the door when K-2 mentioned something about her wardrobe.

Not long after landing in the city, Cassian made himself a semi-regular at the club. He didn’t have to wear an Imperial outfit this time, just the hint of one. An officer on leave, trying to enjoy a bit of nightlife before he was forced back to work. This particular city was known for that. Lower Imperial officers would come here, mingle with some of the very miscreants Stormtroopers harassed, and get into a little good ole fashioned debauchery. Practically everything was a go here. Behaving and following the rules made a person stand out here.

Jyn came after. At first, they made sure not to be at the club at the same time. Cassian was loathed to send her in without him there, but Bodhi would trickle in on those nights, probably nurse two drinks at the bar for as long as he could without attracting the attention of one of the employees. Bodhi always came back red-faced and twitchy, muttering that everything was fine before holing himself up in his ship. At least he talked. Jyn was completely silent about it, stone-faced with a buzz under her skin that vibrated danger if Cassian were to ask questions.

So he didn’t. Things seemed to be going well without him. Their target, a high-ranked Imperial officer with quite a few nasty habits that he couldn’t let go of, was a regular at the club. He went almost every other night. Cassian had crossed paths with him a few times, usually keeping his distance but sometimes only a few feet away. The man was grimy with loose, grabbing hands, a terrible grin, and a weakness for petite dark-haired women. At least it made him predictable.

Now that they were comfortably settled in their roles, it was time to make a move. Jyn was getting progressively angrier while Bodhi looked more miserable with every passing night. He sighed with relief when Cassian stepped out in his night clothes.

Jyn glanced at him once, her mouth as thin as possible, and darted her eyes away from him before he could connect with her. “I have to go. I should be there before you.”

“Wait.” Cassian didn’t reach out to grab her arm, not like he wanted to, but she turned her body towards his almost on instinct anyways.. She was bundled up in a long jacket that she kept protectively wrapped around her body like it was armor. “It’s almost over.” He wished she would look up at him instead of staring determinedly at his chest so that she could see the faint smile on his face. “Just one more night.”

Her lips twitched and she tightened her grip on her jacket, but said nothing else. Cassian watched her walk out the door, hating the way she held herself. It was for the Rebellion. All they did was for the Rebellion. But there were times when it felt like they gave too much of themselves away. He hadn’t meant to drag her into his world; he hadn’t asked her to sacrifice parts of herself like he did for the cause. When she had agreed to stay, half of him had filled with relief while the other half screamed at her to run.

You will lose yourself, piece by piece, if you do this.

He couldn’t imagine what she had lost to this, but he would be with her at the end, as always.

“It doesn’t upset her, not really,” Bodhi piped up. “She just… She feels awkward. This, uh, isn’t her.”

“That’s the point of going undercover,” Cassian pointed out before leaving the room.

He slowly made his way through the city, careful of pickpockets but still casual enough to blend in with the crowd. Just another night on the town, the last one before being shipped off to another station. The club was a twenty minute walk from their rendezvous point, a few blocks from the center of the city. It was hazy with smoke, smelled of too much perfume and alcohol, dark with bright, colored lights that lit up the stage like the runway of a shuttle landing strip. Bad music, in his opinion, was played by a band that had clearly been drinking. But it made for the perfect place to do business in a way. This wasn’t one of the worse joints at least.

Their target, Koren Byner, was sitting in the front row, up and close to the stage, a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. His Imperial uniform was undone at the top, his hat sitting carelessly on the table. He must’ve come here straight from duty. Cassian made his way forward, this time placing himself only three empty seats away. He usually stayed away from the stage, but he needed to be close by tonight. Of course Byner would make things difficult and uncomfortable.

Girls danced on the stage, all of them humanoid in some fashion. Men here liked things that spoke of the unknown and something different, but not too much. Cassian handed money away, each time thinking that Rebellion cash could be spent on something more important, but he couldn’t sit right up front and act like a penny pincher. He didn’t give as much money as Byner did. The man was as loose with his cash as he was with his hands. The girls, for their part, paid him attention, but Cassian could tell that they didn’t enjoy it much. Money was money though, no matter who it was from. Byner did make them work for it though.

A new name was announced - Kaia - and Cassian’s eyes snapped forward. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Byner sitting up eagerly in his seat, leaning forward so that his arms actually rested on the stage, but the moment the curtains drew back and another figure stepped out into the flashing red lights, Cassian stopped paying attention to Byner altogether.

Cassian had been on a lot of missions before, but nothing could have prepared him for Jyn sauntering on stage.

Even though she was still mostly clothed, his mouth went dry. He’d never seen her move like that before and he’d thought, foolishly so, that he’d memorized every way her hips could move and sway. Bodhi was right. It wasn’t her. She had done well, becoming Kaia, a stranded girl trying to make quick money so that she could get a ride back to her home planet.

The makeup around her eyes was dark and smoky, making her green irises pop and her skin stand out strikingly. With every bit of clothing lost and tossed to the side, more of that pale skin was bared for everyone to see, but he was so zeroed in on her that it felt like he was the only one in the room. He’d touched that skin before, ran his hands down it, pressed his lips to it, slid his tongue across it - and yet somehow it looked brand new and he wanted more.

Cassian blinked when she tossed her shirt at him and tried to snap himself out of it. He was beginning to sound like another one of the lecherous customers here. But then she swayed to the music and slid down a wall halfway, her eyes finding his, and she smiled. If he hadn’t been turned on before, he was now. Jyn had way of smiling that made a person feel like it was meant only for them, if only because she so rarely gave them away. She wasn’t by any means the greatest dancer, her movements fluid in a way that spoke more of fighting and danger than dancing and alluring, but it was captivating in its own way.

It made a guy feel like he might get cut if he tried to get too close to her and still desperate the find out. He remembered feeling that way not too long ago without even seeing her dance in such a manner.

Carefully, Jyn slinked her way towards him as another girl took the stage. The dancers shared the floor on a constant rotation, but they didn’t stop dancing once another appeared. Cassian was forced to lean back in his seat as she neared him, sliding off the stage and close to him. He opened his mouth, as if to question her, when she placed her hands on the back of his chair, and straddled him. Something between a grunt and a groan escaped him before he could stop himself as she ground down against him.

No, no, no, he could not do this. Cassian could do a lot of things - had done a lot of things - but he could not do this. How could she expect him to handle himself appropriately in this position? She was only wearing a matching black set of bra and panties now, barely anything separating her from him. There was no way that she would not able to tell how much she had affected him. In fact, judging from the little grin on her face as she moved against him, she definitely had an idea.

Without meaning to, Cassian’s hands found their way to her sides, resting on the bare skin on her hips just above her underwear. Customers were allowed to touch back as long as the dancers didn’t mind. And Jyn didn’t seem to mind, not with the way she was pressed up against him. And then, with a wicked gleam in her eyes, she stepped back and spread his legs open.

Cassian started and licked his lips. “Ah, what are you-- what are you doing?”

“Relax,” Jyn purred in a strange accent as she slid down. Her hands moved down as well, gliding down his chest, over his thighs, and down his legs. All the blood drained from his head. As she slid back up, her little hands came dangerously close to touching his hardened length and then her chest followed, until she was back in his lap. This time, he didn’t hesitate to grab her again and pulled her closer, so that her face rested against his shoulder. “Men always want something another man has. It’ll make him hungrier.”

Hell, it was making Cassian hungrier for more. He had to fight the urge to jerk his hip upwards, but he was not about to rut against her in public, no matter how seedy of a place this was. She would’ve laughed about it later. But make no mistake, she would be paying for this later. This had not been a part of the plan.

One of her bra straps had fallen off her shoulder down her arm. A voice in the back of his mind urged him to pull it down further, but he didn’t dare make a move. It was taking all of his willpower as it was to not kiss her.

But then Jyn caught his line of sight and smiled at him and bit her lip, making him feel dizzy. She knew exactly what kind of effect that look had on him. He wanted to replace her teeth with his, worrying at the bottom of her lip, slipping his tongue into her mouth, kissing her without abandon. Damn her, damn her. She lowered her shoulders and the other bra strap slid down.

“Go ahead,” she told him in a husky, tempting voice. Did she really want him to or was this just a part of the role? Normally, he was excellent at spotting the difference, especially with Jyn, but he was a little distracted at the moment. “You can touch me, if you like.”

Pulling one shaky hand away from her, he hesitated briefly before pulling her bra straps back onto her shoulders. “I like a girl with a little mystery.”

Jyn giggled, climbing nimbly off of his lap and making him miss her almost instantly. As quickly as she had come to him, she left, drifting away from him like smoke, her finger lingering under his chin for a moment before she sauntered away from him, towards Byner. The man was positively frothing at the sight of her. His face was an open page of desire, driven to a brink after seeing her with Cassian, and he was all too eager in reaching out to grab her as she began to dance with him.

Cassian swallowed the lump in his throat and told himself that he was not jealous. This was just a mission. This was just another role that would be discarded. It was for the Rebellion.

But Force be damned, he wanted to pull out a vibroblade and stab Byner right in the gut for the way that he was pawing at Jyn.

The easiest way to make someone want something was to give it to someone else. Cassian could curse himself. Was he that easy to manipulate or was it just her?

The asshole kept pulling at the rest of her clothing, trying to slide it off of her body so that he could see and feel more. He was greedy and none too gentle. Jyn would laugh, twisting out of his grip, before finally she leaned over to whisper something in his ear. Cassian’s blood boiled just beneath the surface. His hands twitched at his side, so he reached for his drink to busy himself. Whatever Jyn had said, it must’ve pleased Byner greatly, as he leaned back and groaned in a way that almost made Cassian crush the glass in his hand.

With that done, Jyn moved on, her dark hair bouncing around her like a halo, and traipsed further into the room. Cassian did his best to keep a furtive eye on her without being conspicuous while Byner watched her like a hawk, his stare on her like a claim. Mine, his eyes said, she’s mine.

Cassian wanted to pluck the man’s eyes out. Jyn didn’t belong to anyone.

It wasn’t long before Jyn came back, an almost shy smile on her face. When she held out a hand, Byner took it quickly, pulling her close to him. She giggled uncharacteristically and tugged him to his feet. As she led him to one of the back rooms, she cast a look over her shoulder and winked at Cassian, as if to tell him that he was missing out on something, and then disappeared behind a door hidden in the dark shadows of a hallway.

After waiting a few minutes and watching another dancer, he stood up and made his way towards the bathroom. At the last minute, he ducked into the hallway instead and found the room that Jyn had gone in with Byner. He knocked on the door in a specific manner and then waited a beat before the door opened and he slipped inside unnoticed.

There was Jyn, still standing there in nothing but her underwear, looking slightly irritated. Back to normal then - or as normal as could be with what she was wearing. Byner was passed out on the bed, looking completely out of it, an empty tumbler glass on the floor below his hand that hung off the edge. When Cassian glanced back at Jyn, he noticed that her hair was disheveled and her makeup was slightly smeared, especially her lipstick.

Jyn caught him looking and huffed, folding her arms across her chest. “It took a minute before the sedative kicked in. This imbecile has a high tolerance.”

No, Cassian was not going to stab an unconscious target. That would make things look very suspicious. But it was a tempting thought.

Instead, he said nothing and brought out the tools that they would need in order to finish the job. While she took his handprints and then fingerprints, he plucked Byner’s eyelids open and took a quick retinal scan. They gathered some samples of his DNA and made a copy of this access card that he’d kept on him after coming here directly from work. Too eager to see that new dancer Kaia before she left.

Once their work was complete, Cassian slid the objects back into his jacket and stood up straight. He glanced back at Jyn, who was eyeing Byner like she wanted to strangle him. He knew that if he tried to apologize, she would be furious with him for it. No one had ever apologized to him for what he’d had to do for the Rebellion. What made her any different? He also knew that he could not admit to still being affected by her dancing earlier. It was the worst moment possible, but just thinking about it made him squirm.

“Jyn,” was all he said instead, reaching out to touch her wrist, his voice too low, too strained.

She turned to face him. A thousand contradicting thoughts flooded into his mind. Desire. Sorrow. Anger. Longing. Concern. Want. Fear. They all blended into one terrible mess until he didn’t know how he was supposed to feel or what to say, so he did what he’d always done before. He shut it down. He put all of those emotions in a box, locked it up, and hid it away. It was easier that way, especially with the way she was looking at him.

And yet he still wanted to pull her flush against him, crash his mouth against hers, and run his hands all over her until she was gasping under his touch.

Despicable, predictable idiot.

“I’ll be okay,” Jyn told him. And then she snorted and held up a wad of cash. “At least he prepaid. First time I’ve made more money on a mission than what was spent on it.”

Cassian nodded his head stiffly and then exited the room. He went to the bar to order another drink while Jyn slipped out and spoke with her manager. The woman in charge of the girls actually laughed as she took her part of the cash and then sent Jyn along to the back. Jyn left first, out the back like all the other employees, while Cassian hung around for another thirty minutes. He was still there when Byner stumbled out of the room, his face red with embarrassment and looking a complete mess. Passed out on the girl of his dreams before he could do anything. How humiliating. It would be awhile before he showed his face here again.

After a while, Cassian left the club as well, winding his way through the city towards the rendezvous point. He always went a different route, some much longer than others, to make sure that he wasn’t followed. It was hard to not make a straight beeline for the motel room tonight, but he forced himself to go slow, taking in the flashing lights and dank smells of the city. By the time he reached the room, Jyn had already been there for almost two hours. She was probably crawling up the walls by now wondering where he was and what was taking him so long.

Just as he suspected, the moment he walked inside, Jyn was on him. “What took you so long?” she demanded as she stormed towards him. There was fire in her eyes and a hard expression on her face. Ah, there was the Jyn Erso that he knew so well. “Where were you?”

“Don’t worry,” Cassian told her, an amused grin on his face. “I didn’t stay to watch the other girls.”

Jyn sneered and folded her arms across her chest, but kept her mouth shut. Likely she was still brimming with adrenaline from the night’s events. She was a quick learner and even faster on her feet, but she wasn’t the seasoned spy that Cassian was; she was still figuring out how to direct her energy after missions. She watched silently as he put everything that they had gathered in a bag that he stored in the closet. Honestly, he was surprised that she didn’t demand more answers from him, but his quip had done the trick in quieting her.

When he finally turned to face her, they just looked at one another. Jyn’s cheeks were still pink, though not from the makeup. Then he noticed that she was wearing a bathrobe and it clicked. She’d been so anxious about him taking so long that she hadn’t even finished changing out of her wardrobe for the mission. Underneath that bathrobe was the same underwear set that she had been wearing when she’d teased him at the club. He took three steps towards her without even thinking, until she was right before him and had to tilt her chin up to continue looking him in the face.

There was questioning, hesitant look in her eyes when he held her face and kissed her as hard as he could.

For a brief second, Jyn stiffened, probably out of shock at his sudden action, but then she unfolded her arms and wrapped them around his neck instead, pulling him down to her. She opened her mouth to his, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and hummed pleasantly as his mouth worked against hers. He slid his hands from her face, down her neck, shoulder, and arms, until he could rest them on her waist again.

A part of him, the part that always thought to take things slow with her, draw it out, touch and taste her thoroughly, wanted to push her towards the bed. But then he pictured her on the dance floor again, the way she’d been moving, coordinated like she was in a fight, her hips, her hands, that smile that was a mixture between sneaky and shy - and that part of him faded into the background. All of his desire from earlier came roaring back to him, demanding to be heard, and this time, he didn’t have to ignore it.

Instead he pushed her back against the wall and pinned her there with his body, hard enough to startle her into gasping but not hard enough to hurt her. She was a slippery thing and he knew how much she enjoyed wiggling away to tease him, but not this time. With a knee, he nudged her legs apart and moved to kiss her jaw and down her neck, sucking on the skin over her pulse point. It seemed to jitter underneath his lips. Another gasp escaped her, this one breathier, when he found a sensitive spot and she pulled at the back of his collar and the hair hanging down the nape of his neck.

The bathrobe came undone easily. All he had to do was tug on the belt and then slid his hands inside over the skin of her belly. She jumped under the cold touch of his hands, but then whimpered and pressed her center against his thigh when he moved to rove his fingers over her breasts. Even hidden by the bra, they were sensitive. He knew just how to coax her into wanting more by now.

Take your time, a distant voice told him. You have that ability now.

But no, that wasn’t what he wanted. Jyn was usually the one that preferred things fast and rough. There were nights when she would pull him to bed like an animal in heat, leaving marks on his back that she tended to carefully in the morning. She would drag every moan and inch of desire out of him, like it was the only thing keeping her alive, like it was air, until she could finally breathe and rest easy lying next to him. She hadn’t known what to make of his tenderness, his need to satisfy her, his desire to take care to map her out. He thought it had scared her at first. He hadn’t even known that he’d wanted it like that until her.

Tonight though there was no gentleness. No gentle caresses, no delicate coaxing, no luxurious slow pace. Tonight he wanted all of her and he wanted her now. All his patience and self control had been spent at the club.

When he pulled away slightly, Jyn let out a protesting whine. He moved his way down quickly, kissing down her stomach and over her hip bone. She jerked in surprise when he roughly pulled down her underwear to her ankles, exposing her to him, and made a little yipping sound that he’d never heard before when he nipped the inside of one of her thighs. He gave her no warning before he licked up her slit and a jerky breath stuttered from her lips.

He couldn’t stop himself from groaning at the smell of her, the taste of her, already so wet and wanting. It couldn’t be from just their brief moments of kissing and him touching her. Had she gotten aroused back at the club just like him? All those breaths, the way she’d ground against him, her eyelids fluttering shut, the huskiness of her voice when she’d told him that he could touch her. He’d wanted to touch her. Force, it had been all he could do to not allow his hands to roam over her body, possessively, greedily.

The few things in life that he’d wanted before had been for the greater good, not of his own benefit, partly because it had been stamped out of him early on in his childhood and mostly because the Rebellion had been all that mattered after that. This though, Jyn, he felt so selfish with his want for her. He wanted her all to himself. He was forced to share a part of her with the Rebellion, but moments like these belonged to him. She only made herself vulnerable to him, only allowed herself to need him, only opened up to him -- and he wanted it so bad.

She moaned above him, pushing her body flat against the wall. With her hands, she both tugged at his hair for more and tried to push him away, like it was too much and not enough at the same time. But he dug his fingers into the back of her thighs and her ass and would not relent. Even as he felt her muscles clenching, even as she cried out when he pulled one hand away from her thigh to pump two fingers up her center, even as words began to tumble out of her mouth, “Please, Cassian, oh, oh, shit, please,” like she couldn’t take it

He did not stop until she was shaking and crying out, pulling painfully at his hair and clawing at him. He licked at her, demanded more from her, until he was almost certain that she was close to sobbing and he’d never heard her like this before. It made him even hungrier. He’d had her before and she was his, in her own way, but still he wanted her like he’d been starved of her for years.

As he pulled away from her, she was shaking, her legs wobbling underneath her. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood up. Her pupils were so blown wide that he could barely see the mossy green of her irises and she was breathing so heavily that her chest brushed against his. Her skin was flushed from her cheeks all the way down her neck. Normally, he would’ve given her time to recuperate, even if it didn’t always seem to be on her mind when it was him. Perhaps a taste of her own medicine was what was needed after tonight’s show.

While pressing his lips to hers again, the action instinctively pulling her towards him again, he quickly made work of his belt and pants. He could remember one of the first times they’d had sex and he’d been so clumsy, suddenly incapable of figuring out how to undo his pants, and she’d grinned against his lips. Endearing, she’d called it later. It had not felt that way at the time.

This time, he barely bothered shoving his pants or boxers down all the way. It wasn’t like he was going to be moving around the room any time soon, not with her just where he wanted her. He slid his hands under her ass again and lifted her up, pinning her back against the wall, and then guided himself into her. She clung to him tightly, burying her face in the crook of his neck, and made a little noise when he pushed himself in all the way. She was so wet and inviting that there was hardly any resistance.

Holding her in place, he pumped in and out of her, not for a second going slow. She hit the wall every now and then, but didn’t seem to mind as her moans mixed with his. “Jyn,” he breathed, his mouth hovering over hers. Her eyes were closed and she gripped him tightly as he tirelessly pushed in and out of her. He kissed her, sloppy, her hair tangling in her face and mouth, but he didn’t care. The feel of her around him, her muscles twitching, was enough to make him feel dizzy.

He didn’t care about the strain on his arms. She was exactly in the right place at the right angle where he could bury himself deeply in her. He loved the noises she made every time he pushed himself harder into her, slamming her against the wall. Her nails dug into his shoulders, demanding even more from him, and he was all too willing to give it to her. Both of them were sweating and smelled of smoke from the club, but underneath that was the perfume she’d been wearing tonight, as intoxicating now as it was then.

“Touch yourself,” he growled into her neck, biting her skin enough to leave a mark. “Now.” She whimpered again, so unused to him being so commanding, needing it more than she’d expected probably. After all, she was used to him giving orders when they were on a mission or at the Rebel base, but not in the bedroom, certainly not like this. “I want to feel you.”

He also knew that she would take it as a challenge. Him being the boss in a situation where she normally took control would drive her something fierce. One of her thin hands slipped in between them. The second she began to touch herself, she arched into him even more and moaned loudly enough for whoever was in the next room to hear. He didn’t care. He could feel every time her walls clenched around him, seizing him for a moment before releasing him again. It took her out of rhythm, but again, he didn’t care.

Both of them had learned early on how to get themselves off quickly and quietly, a necessity when the urge came after a while, and so it wasn’t long before she’d brought herself to the peak. It drove him absolutely wild and somehow he managed to go even harder and faster. His own breaths had turned into ragged gasps as she bucked her hips against him and helpless pleas were whispered in his ear, her second orgasm rolling over her and him, He almost came right then and there, but held himself back at the last second.

He waited until she had come down from the orgasm, her muscles only spasming here and there, when he finally pulled out of her and set her down on the ground. This time, her legs were definitely weak and her knees buckled together. He didn’t force her to stand for too long, pulling her away from the wall and pushing her towards the bed. As she tumbled backwards into it, bouncing on the mattress and laughing breathlessly, he shucked his shoes and stepped out of his pants and boxers. Definitely didn’t need those anymore.

Crawling over her in the bed, Cassian leaned down to kiss her again, slowly, deliberately, like he usually did when they were in bed like this. She eased into the kiss, reaching out to touch him, but he snatched one of her wrists before she could do so. Sitting up slightly, he grabbed her other hand and held them above her head, making her look so very vulnerable to him. She blinked up at him, half surprise and half arousal. Her wrists were so thin; it was a wonder they’d found binders to fit them all that time ago. He held them with one hand while he pushed himself inside of her again. She immediately canted her hips up to meet him.

It wouldn’t be long now. Not with the way she was looking up at him, so trusting. She was breathless, her skin flushed with adrenaline and arousal. His eyes never left hers and it was almost too much for him. He’d looked into plenty of people’s eyes while lying straight to their faces, but something like this, something so honest, had always been difficult for him to imagine. She pulled it out of him though, piece by piece, until he remembered. He pumped in and out of her fast and hard until he could barely breathe himself.

And then her muscles clenched around him again and she pleaded with a single word, “Cassian,” and his entire world went white for just a moment. He fell forward, catching himself on his forearm, and buried his face into the crook of her neck, just as she had done with him, as he came, his movements staggering and out of pace. He tilted his head to kiss her desperately, on the neck, jaw, cheek, and then her lips, swallowing up everything left unsaid between them.

When he finally came down, his lips were still on hers, but neither of them were moving, just breathing, as if their lungs trying to catch up with their bodies. Both of their eyes were closed. He leaned his forehead against hers, relishing the feel of her chest haphazardly brushing up against his. He jerked when her muscles spasmed around him and then kissed her almost chastely as he pulled himself out of her. Letting go of her wrists, he rolled off of her and flopped down next to her in bed. He took in a gulp of air and then sighed.

“Where in the hell did that come from?” Jyn asked, still sounding desperate for air though not angry. He could hear how content she was underlining her words. She was fierce with everything in her life, including happiness. He loved that about her.

Chuckling, Cassian turned onto his side so that he could nuzzle into her, his stubble rubbing against the smooth skin of her neck. “You were very rude during the mission.”

“You didn’t enjoy it?”

Cassian pulled his head back so that he could look at her and found her already looking at him. “I’m fairly certain I just proved that I did.” He shrugged. “Maybe a little too much. You were...distracting.”

Jyn bit her lip. “It wasn’t… It wasn’t me.”

“I know,” Cassian told her, “but this was. And you’re always maddening so that was definitely you.”

“Maybe you’re just easy to rile up,” Jyn pointed out, a faint grin on her face.

“No,” Cassian said as he threw an arm around her and pulled her close to him, “it’s just you. Always you.”

She had been frustrating and difficult from day one, even before he’d met her, back when he’d read her file and learned that they would have to break her out of a Wobani labor prison camp. It only made sense that she would be just as frustrating now, just in a different, much more pleasurable way. He wouldn’t have her any other way, if he was being honest.

#cassian andor #jyn erso #rebelcaptain #rogue one #star wars #bodhi rook #cassian x jyn #jyn x cassian #sw fanfiction #undercover #smut #omg it got so fucking LONG

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