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acourtofladydeath · 4 months

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TTBW Chapter 2

Cassian's healing journey beings, and Emerie tells her story.

New tags include discussions of cycle/period discrimination.

Start reading under the cut or on AO3!

Tensions were high outside Cassian and Nesta’s room at the House of Wind. Emerie, Azriel, and Rhysand had been sitting in the hall over a day as Madja and a team of her best healers worked on their friend’s mangled wings. Nesta refused to leave his side. Madja allowed her to stay in the room only as long as Nesta agreed to follow all instructions and stay out of the way, which she had. There was no time to fill anyone in on his status. While the camp lords had not intended to kill Cassian, the combination of the paralytic, faebane, and the shock to his system from trauma and blood loss had caused his body to shut down quickly.

Rhysand had never seen Madja call for so many extra healers. Typically she brought along an apprentice or two to train. On particularly bad occasions, like after the King of Hybern had shredded Cassian’s wings and Azriel had been stabbed by Jurian, he and Morrigan had lent a hand. Madja called for six additional highly trained hands, and specifically refused the help of any apprentices or the Inner Circle. Such a thing was unheard of.

As they waited, Emerie leaned against the wall, arms folded and one leg kicked back. Rhysand had slid down the wall several hours ago. Now his legs were bent up to his chest, elbows rested on his knees, and his head hung heavy in his hands. Azriel stood rigid by the window, unable to break his stare from Cassian’s door. Emerie watched him flex his hands and knew what ran through his mind. She knew what he must be reliving after what Cassian had endured because she was reliving it too. Their scars ran deep.

Loss, damage, physical, mental, and emotional pain that no amount of training could prepare anyone to live through. This was trauma in its purest form, and Cassian was not the only one injured. Emerie shut her eyes tight as she tried to push away the memories that had threatened to consume her from the moment Nesta had recognized the agony in Cassian’s wings through their bond the night before. The images and phantom pains that Emerie still fought back daily had only gotten stronger after what she’d witnessed in that tent.

Hours later the door to Cassian’s room opened and Madja, exhausted and flecked in more blood than anyone was comfortable acknowledging, entered the hallway. Rhysand was instantly on his feet. Azriel remained still, but Emerie took a step off the wall, arms still crossed and wings held in tightly to stave off the pains. Rhysand quickly approached the healer, expectation written across the wrought lines of his face.

Madja stared down at the floor. This healer, a female whose skills went beyond all others, one of the only people in all of Prythian who could order the High Lord around, could not meet his eyes. Rhysand’s eyes bore down on her. Emerie tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, tried to remember that he was in pain, but she did not like the way he looked upon his master healer.

With a deep breath, Madja raised her head and squared her shoulders to address Rhysand. Her face was schooled in a practiced calm as she began to speak with a steady voice. “We have stopped the blood loss, and managed to prevent amputation. His organs were shutting down and we almost lost him, but I am now sure that physically he will survive this.”

“His wings,” Rhysand cut in, voice hoarse from lack of use and water. As he continued to speak his tone was harsh as he asked the question Emerie already knew the answer to. “Will he fly again?”

“No,” Madja said, voice firm and sure though it sounded like she did not want to be. “His wings were too damaged and there was noth-”

“You have to do something. He can’t not fly,” Rhysand said, voice rushed and angry as he took one step toward the healer. “He has to fly, Madja. You have to do something. His wings have been bad before, and you’ve always fixed him.”

Emerie watched as some small part of the healer permanently broke, and she stepped forward to try and prevent the crack from growing further. “Thank you, Madja, for saving his life. We are so thankful. Is there anything that you need us to do?”

Madja looked gratefully at Emerie for a brief moment before she responded. “No, thank you dear. Nesta has all the instructions and we will visit again soon. He needs rest before we work again.”

Emerie smiled warmly at the female as she kindly nodded her response. Madja ushered the healers, all in various states of dishevelment, out of Nesta and Cassian’s room before they left the House of Wind together as one with Morrigan as their guide. Em watched them leave as she used her body to create a barrier between the healers and the High Lord. Azriel still had not moved from where he stood, eyes locked on the door that was once again shut. When they had gone and she was certain they were out of ear shot, Emerie turned angrily upon the males behind her.

“Are you proud of yourself,” Emerie spat at the High Lord, who was still fuming mad about the now undeniable fact that his friend would no longer be able to fly.

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” Rhysand retorted as anger rolled off of him in dark waves.

Emerie cocked an eyebrow at the High Lord, her hands on her hips. “Oh yeah? Nothing wrong? You do know that your words have an effect on people, correct? You had no right to guilt her like that.”

“I did no such thing. I simply asked-”

“No,” Emerie said back. She wanted to shout, but she knew that Cassian and Nesta did not need to hear this right now. To try and preserve their peace, Emerie worked to keep her voice low, yet strong. “By bringing up the past times she was successful, you just confirmed to Madja that you believe this was likely her biggest failure to date. And it’s not. There’s no way to recover from the wounds he received. He’s lucky to be alive right now.”

Continue reading on AO3.

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blackcatsnstrawberries · 10 months

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Azriel One-Shot

A Kiss in the Dark

This is an extended scene from ACOWAR after Azriel brings Elain back from Hybern’s camp. I am hoping this to be the first in a series of one shots from the SJM universe. I can even do requests if people have something they want to see from any of the series.

Elain goes to visit an injured Azriel after he and Feyre saved her from Hybern’s camp. The two share and short but intimate moment when they allow the other to see how they feel about each other.

Word Count: 1175

We landed on the outskirts of camp, the siphons on Azriel’s hands were dull and the patches of blue that were holding in his blood vanished. His powers were spent, but still he held onto me.

Briar, the human girl he saved from the cliff, wandered off into the camp. I hope she found safety among the Fae, a healer to address her injuries and clothes to cover herself in.

Before Azriel could put me down there was a sob, a sob I would know from anywhere. Nesta’s form was a blur as she ran past the bodies around us and threw her arms around Feyre’s neck. I could hear her saying thank you over and over as she sobbed.

Azriel swayed, and strong hands were around me, lifting my bound arms over his neck. “We need Helion to get these chains off of her.” He said to Rhys, as the High Lord helped me stand steady. Azriel’s voice was so strained, he was in so much pain.

Rhys gently placed my feet on the ground, his hands then going to steady his brother. I immediately got on my tip toes and gently placed a kiss on Azriel’s cheek. I could see through his pained expression, his cheeks grow red, but he managed a quick smile before I walked away.

I heard Rhys mutter something to Azriel about Thesan as I slowly walked away form them towards my sisters.

Nesta released Feyre and grabbed my shoulders, as though examining me for any injuries. When she was satisfied I wasn’t in any danger, she pulled me into a strong hug with her and Feyre.

As we embraced and cried, I opened my eyes to see Rhys with Azriel’s arm slung over his shoulder, almost dragging the Shadowsinger to his tent for a Thesan to heal him. I didn’t know much about Illyrian wings, but I could tell those injuries weren’t going to be easy to heal.

A healer came to check Feyre and myself over, my sister having been hit with an arrow in her shoulder. She was healed quickly, Helion came in to remove the faebane chains around my hands and feet, muttering about how awful Hybern was the whole time.

Feyre and I lay down together on a bearskin rug, her arms wrapped around me once more as we tried to sleep off the horrible night we had. Eventually Nesta joined us, and for the first time in a while, I slept comfortably in the safe embrace of my sisters.

---

When my eyes opened the tent was silent and empty, except for Nesta who was sleeping soundly with her arms still wrapped around me. It was evening again, I slept through most of the day.

I carefully removed myself from Nesta’s grasp and climbed off of the rug, tiptoeing out of our tent and across to Azriel’s. The inside looked a lot like mine, beige walls flapping in the wind, a worn rug on the ground, though his had weapons throughout.

I first saw Cassian sitting on a chair, eyes watching the corner of the tent. My eyes followed his gaze to a sleeping form on a cot.

Azriel lay on his stomach, his chest rising and falling with quiet rasps as he slept. His lower half was covered with a blanket, his bare torso was wrapped with white bandages. His wings were still torn with red patches of Cassian’s powers on them. His complexion was pale, lost was the beautiful olive hue.

“He hasn’t woken up since Thesan healed his back.” Cassian said quietly.

I nodded my head and took a few steps closer. Azriel’s face was pinched in pain as he slept, “What will happen to his wings?” I asked softly.

Cassian breathed out deeply, “Thesan wasn’t sure about healing Illyrian wings, Rhys sent for Madja, she will be here by tomorrow.” Cassian looked at me and smiled, slowly he stood up and gestured towards his chair, “Sit, keep him company, I’m sure he’d like to know you came to see him.” The hulking warrior gently squeezed my shoulder before leaving the tent.

Leaving me alone with a sleeping and injured Azriel.

I pulled the chair close enough to the bed that I could reach out and take Azriel’s hand, which was hanging off the cot almost lifeless. I gently took his rough and scarred hands in mine as he slept.

“I know you can’t hear me,” I said softly to his sleeping form, “But I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for coming for me, thank you for risking your life to bring me back.” I looked at his ravaged wings and winced, “I am sorry about your wings. I know if Madja was about to heal Cassian’s wings after the last run in with Hybern, she will be able to heal yours.”

I ran my fingers up and down his hands, feeling every beautiful scar as I gently caressed them.

His eyebrows pinched together, and a low moan escaped from him before his hazel eyes cracked open just enough to tell he was awake, “...Elain…” He rasped, eyes struggling to focus.

I smiled and slid off my chair so my face was level with his, “You’re awake.” I said softly, still holding his hands, “You should sleep.”

He groaned, “I heard you…talking…to me…”

I winced, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up. I’ll go-”

“No.” His voice was forceful, though he used what little strength he must have to speak that single word, “No, stay. I like it when you’re close…” His eyes were more open now, he turned his head on the pillow so he was looking at me more clearly.

I smiled at him, at his beautiful face, “You saved me. Thank you.”

“I’d do it again, I would risk my life for you again, and again.”

“I hope you don’t have to.”

He smiled and a soft chuckle escaped his lips, making his chest bob up and down. Azriel winced before letting out a long, winded breath. “Feyre? The other girl?”

“Feyre is fine, and Briar has been healed and brought back home. They are both safe thanks to you.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes again. I could see that his strength and consciousness were waning and I would lose him to sleep again soon. I gently placed my hand on his shoulder and brought my face down closer to him, “Sleep, heal more before you start dealing with this war again.”

He nodded his his and gently moan in agreement. I leaned in and placed another gentle kiss on his cheek, his eyes opened and he turned to me. I stared at his beautiful face, his lips that were gently parted.

Using whatever strength he had, he pushed himself up slightly on his forearm and kissed me on my lips, the feeling sending bolts of electricity through my body. I returned the kiss as his rough hand gently cupped the back of my neck, pulling me in closer.

When his lips left mine, he slowly lowered himself back down on the cot and sighed deeply. His eyes closed as he smiled gently, “You’re worth everything, Elain.” He muttered as sleep finally took him again.

#acotar oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x elain #azriel and elain #elriel #acotar #rhysand #cassian #feyre #nesta #archeron sisters #acowar #whump writing #writers of ao3 #acotar fanfiction #pro elriel #pro elain #azriel #azriel chapter

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where-is-my-whump · 2 years

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Andor | 1x06 1x07

Follower request

#andor series #1x06 #andor 1x07 #diego luna #cassian andor #karis nemik #alex lawther #character death #unconscious #chocked #pushed #whump #star wars #gif #whumptober2022

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incognitajones · 7 months

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#whumptober 2023 #rcwhumptober #jyn x cassian #(kind of)#my fic #i feel very much like the person who shows up at the potluck with store bought guac #my whumping skills are rusty #i'll be meaner next time!

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quarantineddreamer · 1 year

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As a Shadow | Chapter 2 - (Not) alone

Here goes nothing ahhhh -Chapter 2! (Click title for AO3, or read below)

Chirrut is in a wheelchair that Baze pushes and leans on in equal terms. Both have cuts and bruises littered across their bodies and Jyn can tell they are in no small amount of pain, but they still give gentle smiles when they arrive at Cassian’s bedside.

Even though she doesn’t need to, Jyn gets up from her chair so that Baze can use it. As he collapses into his seat their arms brush, but it is clear he does not register her touch–and just another thing she cannot feel.

Cassian’s injured back will not allow him to roll onto his side, but Jyn can tell he’s desperate to turn away from their friends from the moment they arrive. He does everything he can to avoid their eyes, his mask back in place, an extra sullen quality added to it.

“She saved your life, you know,” Baze says quietly.

Cassian’s lips press into a fine line. He’s glaring daggers at the ceiling and it’s clear he doesn’t want to hear any of this.

“You think you’re unhappy to be here? Try being invisible to everyone,” Jyn grumbles.

Baze gives a heavy sigh. “Melshi said you might be like this.”

“She shouldn’t have done it,” Cassian replies by way of explanation.

Jyn wants to shake him. “Stop that. What I did was not a mistake. I was the reason you were there in the first place– you really thought I’d let you die because of me? Is that the kind of person you think I am?”

Chirrut makes a disappointed, humming sound. “I don’t think she would agree with that.”

“Thank you!”

Cassian gives a bitter laugh. “Of course not, she never agreed with anything I said.”

“You liked that about her,” Baze comments.

“I did,” Cassian admits quietly and for a moment there is silence between them. “She had a way of getting under your skin, didn’t she?”

“She did,” Baze agrees.

“She should be here,” Cassian says, soft and fierce, with eyes that Jyn fears are close to shedding tears.

“She is one with the Force, and the Force is with all of us, so she is here,” Chirrut says matter of factly.

“Sure. Something like that,” Jyn mutters. And it’s not that he’s wrong, but she does wonder what Chirrut would think of her current situation, if he would be so keen to trust in the mysteries of the Force if he knew the kind of anguish it was putting her through.

She tries to read Cassian’s face, to determine if he is finding any comfort in the monk’s word, and though his expression remains impassive, she senses that he is about as satisfied with the notion as she is.

Chirrut tries a new approach, “Baze tells me they emptied your pockets before bringing you into surgery and that they found something of hers?”

Cassian tenses and Jyn gets the feeling he’d by flying out of bed right now if his body would only let him. “Scarif… she shoved something into my pocket on the beach. Where is it? Where’d they put it?” he asks, uncharacteristically frantic.

“Don’t worry,” Baze grunts as he reaches for the drawer of the table at Cassian’s bedside. His hand emerges holding a worn cord, a familiar translucent stone dangling from the end of it. “I made sure they put it in a safe place.”

Baze places the kyber in Cassian’s outstretched palm and something in Jyn seems to anchor there alongside it. My necklace…

He stares at it for a moment, runs gentle fingers over its edges with a tenderness that seems to echo on Jyn’s cheek. When he ties the cord around his neck, the kyber falls into place against his chest.

And Jyn’s body begins to pulse with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, as though it were her own.

For the next several days, Cassian mostly sleeps, still heavily medicated and his body still very much in need of the extra rest.

Jyn, on the other hand, quickly learns that the phrase ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead’ is a fallacy. The first few times the lights of the infirmary dim, she goes through the motions of settling in a comfortable position, shutting her eyes, but she can’t even bring herself to pretend she’s tired. Her supply of energy is seemingly endless.

She spends the quiet, lonely hours trying to figure out why she is here; even–for one brief, self-conscious moment–tries talking to the Force, ‘So, uh, my mother said you called?’ But it’s useless. If there’s a message to be found it’s an incredibly cryptic one, either that, or the Force is answering much too quietly.

Occasionally she gets up and wanders, never straying farther than the corners of the room, always gravitating back to Cassian’s side. Normally, she would grow bored of this inside of an hour, but death seems to have granted her more patience, and there are plenty of things to occupy her thoughts, to distract her.

The Captain has a steady stream of visitors that she is eager to see. Bodhi, Melshi, Baze and Chirrut cycle through regularly to check on him. Even Mon Mothma and Draven come to speak with him and provide him with updates on the rebellion’s activities since Scarif.

Jyn is thrilled to hear the Death Star plans made it off Scarif, distraught to learn that they go missing when a Princess Leia is captured. Her heart breaks anew when the news of Alderaan reaches the medical wing–she and Cassian spend the day in still and quiet, and she can’t help but ponder the futility of their mission on Scarif. Had their sacrifice been for nothing after all?

But there is overwhelming relief when the plans find their way back to the Rebellion courtesy of the Alliance’s newest recruits, Luke Skywalker and Han Solo. The day they hear about the attack planned on the Death Star, Cassian fights with the medical staff and all of his friends, cursing in frustration and insisting that he is well enough to fly a ship. ‘It’s not like I need to walk –just wheel me onto Rogue One!’ (Nevermind that he’s still recovering the strength to sit upright unsupported for more than a few minutes at a time.)

It’s a bittersweet sight to witness. Bitter, because he is upset about being bedridden and unable to finish what they started on Scarif. Sweet, because Jyn takes his fierce arguing as an encouraging sign.

It’s the liveliest he’s been in weeks.

He’s not eating much. Whether from all the meds they have him on or because he’s depressed Jyn isn’t sure. There’s a good chance it’s both. He picks at his food with little interest, consuming just enough for the infirmary staff to leave him alone. When Bodhi comes by, it’s mostly Bodhi who does the talking, and it’s the same with the others–though maybe he offers Melshi a few more words than the rest.

Sometimes they try to talk about her. Cassian always shuts it down, finds an excuse, steers the conversation towards anything else–even the loss of Kay is a more tolerable topic . Maybe it would lead anyone else to think he doesn’t care that she’s gone. But she knows better. He avoids any mention of her because he cares too much, and he blames himself.

Alone, he spends time staring at the kyber crystal. There’s a desperation to his gaze that she grows to resent. She wants to tell him to let go; she’s not worth all this pain–he shouldn’t feel responsible, it was her choice what she did, and she’d do it again…

And sometimes she does tell him .

But he never hears.

No matter how badly she wants to, she can’t help him now.

Members of the med-core team begin introducing physical therapy exercises to him as soon as possible, hoping for him to regain more of his mobility with time and practice. This, Cassian seems to pour every ounce of his energy into.

She sees the fire in his eyes as he pushes himself to his limits–and then some.

She doesn’t like this either. It worries her. He’s not doing it out of some eagerness to get better, he is punishing himself–she knows it. And if he is cleared to go back in the field, it won’t be the end of it, only the beginning.

Cassian will turn his guilt into a life-long sentence of pain.

What he doesn’t realize, can’t realize, is that she will suffer the same, serving right beside him in misery.

During the evacuation of Yavin 4, Cassian is amongst the first rebels to leave–along with the others under medical care.

He is wheeled out of the infirmary and onto a waiting ship, and Jyn follows, her body alight with the new energy she finds herself a part of.

Compared to the sleepy calm of the room Cassian has been residing in, it feels like she has made the jump into hyperspace. So many people, and the open space all around them, and the breeze drifting into the hangar from across the jungle. So much life. She tracks Cassian’s movements more automatically than anything else, because she can barely focus, her attention pulled in a thousand different directions at once.

The feeling diminishes once they board the ship and are contained within its walls, only to transform again when they break atmo and enter the cold expanse of the galaxy.

There, she feels like she is living up to the affectionate name her father once bestowed upon her.

She is stardust, swirling, brilliant, multitudes.

On Hoth, Cassian finally gets permission to leave the full-time care of the med-core team and retire to his own room. He’s still tied to base, performing desk duties until he is cleared for action, but Jyn can tell it is a relief for him to know he will be able to have some solitude–there are days she has caught him pretending to be asleep so that no one will approach him.

Melshi has been holding onto his friend’s few belongings and brings them to Cassian. An entire room’s worth of personal effects are packed neatly into a small duffle. It’s a sight Jyn understands well. Her life had always been one easily moved from place to place. The bag is probably full of clothes, maybe a blaster or two. But she wonders if—hidden amongst the folds of the bag–there might also be a token of the past that he keeps with him, as she once did her mother’s necklace.

She never did get to see Cassian’s room on Yavin 4–if he even had one of his own–and so she finds herself curious to see the type of quarters the man keeps. She pictures something spotless with neatly folded clothes, but her imagination doesn’t stretch much further than that, perhaps because she can’t see Cassian settling in one place for too long any more than she could imagine herself doing so.

They enter the room and he throws his bag onto the floor of the small, poorly lit space as the door hisses shut behind them. Against one wall is a narrow bed, against another there is a simple desk. Cassian stands in the middle, expression as inscrutable as ever.

“It’s not so bad,” Jyn says, leaning her hip against the desk. At least, she’s certainly seen worse. “But you have to promise you won’t spend all your time in the dark moping or I’m going to tell med-core they let you go too soon.” An empty threat, of course, but it feels good to say anyways.

Cassian gingerly sits on the bed–she’s noticed his back still has trouble with movements like that–and sighs heavily, his breath fogging the air in front of him in a way that fascinates her, a startling symbol of just how alive he is .

Fingers tangle in hair that has grown longer during his time in med-core care, as he places his head in his hands, hiding his face from view.

“Is this you moping?” Jyn asks teasingly, the same way she would if he could hear her. “Isn’t that exactly what I just said not to do?”

When a moment later he still hasn’t moved, she lets out a sigh of her own–a habit she cannot seem to let go of despite it being entirely unproductive in her current state. “Cass, why don’t you go for a walk or something? Throw a snowball at Melshi or Bodhi for me.”

In the silence of the empty room his jagged breaths echo against the frigid walls. His shoulders start to tremble.

She realizes it is the first time since the news of her death that he hasn’t been under the concerned stare of a friend or medical staff. And because it’s Cassian, it means he’s waited all this time to grant himself permission to feel.

Even now she can sense he does it reluctantly, fights it, like somehow he doesn’t deserve a moment to be vulnerable, to be human.

He looks so lost…so alone, and Jyn thinks she’s never wanted anything more in the world than to be able to tell him he’s not.

She takes a tentative step closer to him. But it’s not enough to simply be close, and she knows it’s never going to be. Not when what she truly wants is to be with him.

Aware of the impossibility of this desire, she settles for lowering herself to the bed to sit beside him. “I’m sorry, Cassian… I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.” She didn’t think she could hurt anyone like this.

She tries to imagine herself in his position. The guilt she would feel would choke her. And she would miss him. Force, she would miss him–it’s a shock to realize just how much.

There was no logical explanation for it, but from the moment Cassian Andor had walked into her life she’d felt pulled to him, felt seen by him. (The bitter irony of that notion is not lost on her now). He’d understood her like no one else ever had, and she him. Sometimes that knowing was a pain, like when they’d clashed on Eadu. But there had also been a sense it could become something wonderful if there had been the time. There had been the briefest of glimpses of it, in the elevator on Scarif, a question in his eyes that she’d never gotten the chance to answer before…

It had all been stolen from them. All the endless possibilities that might have been, snuffed out before they could even truly begin to unfold. She supposes she should just be grateful for the time they did have; for the incredible fortune they had in getting to know each other at all, no matter how briefly.

Jyn tentatively moves to rest her head on Cassian’s shoulder, gradually settling her weight against him. His hair tickles her cheek. He smells good, like he has been sitting somewhere green and sunlit, and he is warm, and…

Realization dawns, sharp and sudden–a spark catching on kindling.

He is warm.

Her body thrums with the dizzy rhythm of a racing heart as she slowly reaches up to lightly run one of her fingers along the side of his face, a heady sensation rushing through her–the heart stuttering.

His beard is scratchy. She knows it is.

I can feel him!

Cassian springs to his feet–moving with a speed she has not seen from him since before his injuries on Scarif–and turns to look back at the bed.

“Cassian?” Jyn asks hopefully, fighting to temper her foolish desire to pull him back–though admittedly she’s not even sure she could if she tried.

He’s staring at the bed intently, not fearfully, and she wants to take that as a good sign, but he won’t meet her eyes.

“Still can’t see me, can you?”

He shakes his head roughly and lets loose a long, somewhat unsteady breath. This time the mist that curls from his mouth is not something to wonder at. It is a slap to the face, a stark reminder of the divide between her world and his.

She watches as he begins to unpack his few belongings.

She’s fed up with watching.

For one brief, incredible moment she had done more, been more, and now all she feels is the bitter ache of disappointment threatening to overwhelm her.

She tries her best to fight it, to hold onto the memory of his touch against her skin, to hold onto the way he had looked at her on Scarif even as the world crumbled around them…

#As a Shadow #rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fanfic #jyn x cassian #angst #whump #jyn erso #cassian andor #jyn erso x cassian andor #rebelcaptain fanfiction #major character (un)dead #b writes

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paininseries · 2 years

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Andor | e3/4 (1/2)

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willowtree-888 · 5 months

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Hello! A new whumpy Rebelcaptain fic for ya. Mind ye tags.

Cassian, Jyn, Melshi, Bodhi, and Tonc all survived Scarif and continued to fight for the Rebellion. But, in 3 ABY, one of Cassian's missions goes severely awry. His friends must rescue him. How much of him will be left by the time they do?

#rebelcaptain #cassian andor #jyn erso #rogue one #whump #hurt/comfort #fanfic #star wars

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promptsforyourwhumpfic · 1 year

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(My) Top Three Whump Fics

It was so hard to choose - I have an entire google docs file with 200+ fics that I love. So here are just three of my favourite whumpy fics that were written/posted this year!

Number One

Title: ‘We’re In This Together’ by Padria95 (Rogue One)

AO3 Summary: The Empire still looms over their heads, but Jyn can't help thinking that she can't really remember a time when she felt happier. Friends surround her, mission after mission with the Rebellion is successful, and she and Cassian are both lowering their walls to let each other in.But then, a series of unfortunate events strikes. First, a rescue mission that Jyn and Cassian do not return from unscathed. And then, when they’ve barely had time to recover from it, an entire Alliance base faces destruction. Cassian races to save their allies, forced to confront an entire fleet of Star Destroyers in only a single ship. Sure, it might be the Millennium Falcon, but it’s still just one ship. Cassian has always made it back to Jyn, has always come back for her. Will he be able to one more time?

Notes: An awesome fic depicting the blooming relationship between Cassian and Jyn. So tense and brilliantly written medical scenes. Both Cassian and Jyn whump!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9913952/chapters/22216826

Number Two

Title: ‘Handle With Care’ by quill_le_hedgehog (The Boys)

AO3 Summary: After Hughie's injury in 'The Bloody Doors Off', Butcher, Starlight, and the rest of the team must work together to get him back to their bunker and help him recover

Notes: Sweet and angsty with a side of great characterisation and writing. I find that some people go ‘overboard’ with Butchers dialogue/mannerisms (e.g, c*nt being in every line of dialogue) but Quill here writes him brilliantly!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41981595/chapters/105394308

Number Three

Title: ‘The Weight of the Dead’ by Taste_is_Sweet (Rogue One)

Ao3 Summary: Cassian knows exactly what he wants to have happen after he dies. Jyn has some feelings about that.

Notes: This is another fantastic one - it’s a Rogue One fix-it of sorts that explores Jyn and Cassian’s budding relationship, as well as Melshi’s friendship with Cassian. Plenty of hurt and comfort as well as an exploration into death rituals of Star-Wars cultures.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43660129

#whump #fics #fic recs #star wars: andor #star wars: rogue one #cassian andor #jyn erso #hurt/comfort #ruescott melshi #the boys #hughie campbell #billy butcher #fix its

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mostthingskenobi · 8 months

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Cassian's having a hard time in the latest chapter of my fic 👀 👀 👀

There was a general lack of Cassian whump in the world so I'm fixing that.

#cassian #cassian whump #cassian andor #andor #whump #diego luna

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acourtofladydeath · 4 months

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"TTBW" Reveal

Cassian and Nesta have moved to Illyria to begin the process of rebuilding themselves and the homeland Cassian holds dear after the events of A Court of Silver Flames. The establishment of the Valkyries and push for equality was met with expected resistance.

What they didn’t account for was the violence that would change their lives forever. Cassian must try and learn to live without what he values most, and they all must discover what it truly means to be Illyrian.

This fic draws inspiration from the "Blackbird" by The Beatles, which was written by Paul McCartney, with some influence from John Lennon. The lyrics are inspired by the call of a blackbird and racial tensions. My fic will explore themes of racism, sexism, homophobia, violence, and other canon typical themes within Illyria. This is an emotionally intense fic that uses charged language. Graphic depictions of violence are included. Please read the tags carefully and consider your own health and wellbeing as you read through.

Here are the links to the posted Chapter 1 Snippets so far #1, #2, & #3.

Stay tuned for Chapter 1, coming soon to AO3.

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ex0rin · 2 years

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Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week. Prison episode next week.

#andor #andor spoilers #I'M FINE #EVERYTHING IS FINE #cassian whump incoming #gonna plan to just be awake forever next week

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firealder2005 · 1 year

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Whumpcember 2022 Day. 30 THE END IS NIGH

Part 4 of my ANH AU!

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43752286

Enjoy!

```

Leia wondered if Tarkin had forgotten about her.

She didn’t know if that would be a good or bad thing.

Good, since she wouldn’t have to see the smug-faced bastard, but bad since whatever had taken his attention could not have been good.

It must be doubly bad since it seemed to have occupied Darth Vader’s time too - he wouldn’t have let her execution go off schedule.

He certainly had no problem with senseless slaughter…

Alderaan’s beautiful green and blue coloring from space drifted into her mind’s eyes, and she squeezed her eyes shut and pushed the feeling of despair away.

She couldn’t mourn her planet, people, and parents now.

Leia had to stay strong, to show she was undaunted, untamed still by the Empire’s mercilessness.

Darth Vader himself had tortured her.

Grand Moff Tarkin had obliterated her home.

But she would not break, she would not give in.

Because that was not who she was.

As long as she had hope, the Rebellion would live on. They would live to bring justice to her people, and all the other planets suffering under the Empire’s regime.

She had often heard Cassian Andor (may he rest in peace) say that Rebellions were built on hope, and she agreed whole-heartedly.

She jolted and fixed a stern glare on her face as the door to her cell opened, revealing a rather short stormtrooper.

“Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” she snarked.

“Huh?” the trooper said. “Oh, right, the helmet…” surprisingly, the trooper took the helmet off and revealed the face of a boy around her age, with shaggy, sun-bleached blonde hair and startling blue eyes.

“Princess Leia?” he asked.

Leia raised a brow, and nodded.

“I’m Luke Skywalker, I’m here to rescue you,” the boy quickly said, glancing behind him. “I came with Ben Kenobi-”

“General Kenobi’s here?” Leia asked, startled and pleased as she shot up onto her feet. Ben had gotten her message! R2 did it!

“Yes,” Luke replied. “We have to move fast, because the pilots who were taking us to Alderaan have been imprisoned too.”

“Then let’s get moving,” Leia ordered, smartly adjusting the folds of her dress and marched out of the cell. Luke followed her out, and nearly crashed into her back as she froze - in joy and horror.

The former emotion came from the sight of the still tired-looking Obi-Wan Kenobi (did he ever take that nap she told him to do?), and the latter from the arms-crossed form of Darth Vader, who looked rather sulky(?) at the moment.

“Hello Leia,” Ben sighed as he turned his back on Darth Vader . “It’s good to see you again.”

Leia’s mouth had opened from the shock of this sight, and Luke rocked back and forth on his heels.

“Um,” he said. “You know Ben too, huh?”

Leia nodded faintly, the phantom pains of fire running through her veins as she stared warily at Vader.

What. Was. Going. On.

“Leia, I hate to drop this on you like this,” Ben winced. “But may I introduce you to your twin brother?” he vaguely waved a hand at Luke, and Leia swiveled her head around to meet the blonde’s sheepish and nervous expression.

She had…a brother?

She hadn’t lost all her family after all?

She suddenly gasped, whipping around on Ben, and exclaimed; “Was he who you’ve been with for all these years?”

Ben had a soft smile on his face. “Yes, I have been protecting Luke all his life - minus the days I spent saving your life.” the smile turned genuine. “I seem to be doomed to prevent Skywalkers from killing themselves.”

Leia’s brain froze.

Skywalker.

That’s right - that’s Luke’s last name.

Which meant her birth father was…Anakin Skywalker.

Wow.

She would always call Bail and Breha Organa her parents, and she loved them fiercely, and she had never really been all that interested in her biological parents, but there was a sense of connection to hear her birth father’s name.

“If we’re all done ,” Vader’s impatient voice made Leia tense, and she blinked as Luke’s hand rubbed her arm. She glanced at him, curious, and he seemed to be avoiding looking at Vader as much as she was. “I thought Luke had some “friends” he wanted to rescue.”

Leia glanced inquiring at Ben. Why was Vader helping them?

“I’ll explain later,” Ben promised quietly as Vader turned on his heels and quickly walked off. Leia warily followed, sticking close to Luke’s side, as Vader savagely punched in a code into two other cells and stepped aside before the doors opened.

Luke ran into the closest one to them, and Leia heard his light laugh and a happy, warm growl from inside. Her brother (brother!) came back out with the lumbering form of a Wookie.

She blinked. Her brother sure had a variety of friends.

In the second cell, a human male basically threw himself out, fist aloft as he gave a challenging yell - before pausing at Luke being hugged by the Wookie, Ben’s amused, tired expression, and her unimpressed one.

The man opened his mouth, looking briefly confused, before blurting out; “What the kriff’s going on?”

“You are being rescued,” Vader said from behind him, and the man yelped and spun around, stumbling backwards and nearly toppling into Ben in the process. “Why I am aiding your escape is none of your concern, and I advise you to take it .”

“Hi Han!” Luke called as the Wookie gently set him down. “You okay?”

The man, Han, slowly tore his gaze from Vader and looked disbelievingly at Luke. “Okay, if this is some big plot to get me to believe in the Force, you may have convinced me because how in the nine Corellian hells did you get him to help you?” he gestured wildly to Vader’s immovable form that seemed just as unimpressed as Leia did.

She shuddered at that comparison.

Luke exchanged a look with Ben, and shrugged. “It’s a long story.”

Han seemed to be struck speechless, but at the Wookie’s growl, he shook himself out of it. “Okay, okay, right,” he muttered. “I’m not gonna look a gift bantha in the mouth. We gotta find our weapons and get to my ship.”

“Down the corridor, and in the safe.” Vader emotionlessly answered, sticking his thumb over his shoulder. “Luke’s lightsaber, the Wookie’s bowcaster, and your assortment of blasters and vibroblades are in it. Don’t procrastinate.”

Han slowly raised his hands up. “Alright, alright, come on Chewie, Luke. Time to get our stuff back!”

Luke gave Leia a smile before handing his stormtrooper helmet to Ben and rushing off after Han. Leia furrowed her brows when she saw there were no Imperial officers or stormtroopers present.

Huh.

She crossed her arms and stalked past Vader, training herself to not respond to his presence. She was still suspicious about his help, and would treat what he said like she would a loaded blaster, but she wasn’t stupid to use what help she could.

Luke had discarded the stormtrooper armor and was fiddling with an object she recognized as a lightsaber. He turned it on, and a blade as vividly blue as Ben’s fizzled into existence. Luke had a small smile on his face, but it seemed to be tinged with sadness.

“Nice lightsaber,” she told her brother, bumping her shoulder into his.

“Thanks,” he replied. “It was my - our - dad’s.” his eyes darted nervously over to Vader.

“Really?” she asked. “Anakin Skywalker’s?” Luke hummed, and disengaged the blade before clipping it to his belt.

“Ben gave it to me before we left Tatooine,” he explained as everyone crowded into the turbolift.

“That’s nice,” Leia wistfully said. She wished she had a memento of her parents, like her mother’s amethyst earrings, or her father’s long, blue Senatorial cloak.

Anything to remember them by.

But it was all destroyed on Alderaan.

Luke once more glanced at Vader, and that’s when Leia noticed the rising tension in the turbolift. But Ben and the Sith were stiff, facing forward, while Han and poor Chewie were stuck in between them.

“Did you even have a plan?” Ben tersely asked.

“Yes.” Vader bit back sharply - almost defensively, Leia noticed with a raised brow. She exchanged a look with Luke as Vader continued; “I will go on ahead and demand another meeting with Tarkin for Luke’s custody - he will deny it, and you will all use that time to get to the smuggler’s garbage bin of a ship.”

Han’s offended “Hey!” was drowned out by Ben’s annoyed sigh.

“It’s always by halves with you, isn’t it?” he muttered. “You don’t think Tarkin or the Emperor will be suspicious of Luke, Leia, Captain Solo, and Chewbacca’s miraculous escape?”

“I will blame it on you.” Vader shot back with zero hesitation.

“Even in my prime I wouldn’t have been able to do such a thing.”

“You sell yourself short - you have been escaping my grasp for nearly two decades. It’s not much of a stretch to believe you could do it again along with many others.”

“You think too highly of me, Darth.”

Leia shot a disbelieving look with her companions. What was going on ?

“Okay!” Han then shouted with a wave of his hand. “Let’s just do his Sithyness’s plan since it’s the only one we got!”

“ Sithyness ?” Vader scowled as Leia snickered. Luke had a smile while Chewie gaffled with laughter. “You won’t call me that again, Solo , unless you want your windpipe crushed.”

Han stared at Vader. “I’ll remember to write that down.”

Chewie rumbled something, and Han scoffed. “I do not! ”

“If he asked if you have a death wish,” Leia deadpanned. “I think he’s right.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion , Your Worshipfulness!” the smuggler shot back.

“Announcing it to the entire turbolift is an invitation, nerf-herder .”

Han scowled before turning to Luke, who seemed to be trying to hide in Chewie’s shaggy, brown fur. “I really hope that reward’s gonna be worth it, kid.”

“If money’s all you care about,” Leia tartly butted in. “Then money is what you’ll get. I doubt you even care about anything but yourself.”

Han opened his mouth to argue back, but Ben slapped his hand over it as the turbolift doors opened and Vader stepped out, towering in the doorway as he scanned to hallways.

“It’s clear,” he rumbled. “Make your way back to the hangar. Leave Tarkin to me.”

Han wasted no time to leave the turbolift, with Chewie bending over to accommodate his gargantuan height. Ben exited next, and Vader snapped his mask to him and lowly hissed; “You better keep them safe, Kenobi. If not…” he clenched his hand. “There is nowhere you can hide that’ll keep you safe from me.”

Ben gazed sadly at Vader. “Believe me,” he murmured. “I would punish myself if I ever let anything happen to them.”

Leia and Luke exited last, and Leia curiously glanced at Vader and Ben.

They seemed to have struck an agreement that resulted in Vader helping them.

Luke seemed to hesitate, looking back over his shoulder at Vader, who was staring intently at both him and Leia.

Leia grabbed Luke’s hand and gently pulled him along, and saw Vader slowly turn away to go confront Tarkin.

Whatever the reason on why Vader had helped them, she wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.

They had the plans for the abomination they were on, and they were going to destroy it.

For Alderaan.

For the Rebellion.

The destruction of the Empire was near.

She could feel it.

#whumpcember 2022 #whumpcember day30 #alderwrites #whump #leia organa #luke skywalker #darth vader #obi wan kenobi #han solo #chewbacca #star wars #star wars fanfiction #cassian andor #wilhuff tarkin #grand moff tarkin #governor tarkin #alderaan #a new hope

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swift-creates · 7 months

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@ailesswhumptober Day 2: Overworked / Insomnia / Exhaustion

Day 15: Experimentation / Muzzle / Transformation

category: Gen

fandom: Star Wars

characters and relationships: Cassian Andor and Strike (OC) - platonic, Nala Se and Lama Su in the background

warnings: experimentation, animalistic transformation, non-consensual body modification, Kaminoans being shitty, blood and gore, self-harm but it’s not really intentional (more of a distraction; think digging your hands into your palms to divert your attention from pain but. a little more extreme), Cassian and Strike being the softest most traumatised kids ever

notes: WHUMP. this is part of my Unnatural AU, so it likely won't be on AO3 until i finish the rest of this chapter and the previous one. the Unnatural AU is very much inspired by the Unnaturals book series by Devon Hughes but also a little bit of the Maze Runner: the Fever Code by James Dashner so yeah it's kids in Situations with shitty scientist adults

(Context is Strike has been having chest pains and difficulty breathing for the past 3 days)

more things about Strike on AO3

Something was off about today. After Strike’s daily scans, the guards had marched her into a laboratory smelling of sterile instruments and something she couldn’t place, rather than returning her to her room. Her chest tightened with dread when she saw Nala Se standing by a control panel beside Lama Su; she’d long learned that both of them being present at any given time could not mean anything good.

The guards led her into the center of the room, where a huge glass cylinder bordered with metal struts sat ominously, a door ajar on the near side of it. Panic started to slick her palms with sweat, and her compliant steps faltered. “W-What are you doing?” The question had just slipped out, and she hadn’t exactly said it softly, but everyone in the room acted like they were pretending not to hear. Stopping in front of the open door, the guards started to push her inside, so she dug her heels in and struggled against their steel grips. “No, what- What’s going on? Let go-” Her efforts ultimately proved fruitless, and they shoved her into the chamber before stepping back and pushing the door closed. It shut with a hiss, her scrabbling hands finding no purchase on the smooth glass.

Lama Su and the scientists watched silently as she threw herself against the walls, punching and kicking everywhere she could. “Let me out!” Nala Se turned to look at Lama Su, who nodded slowly, and the former stepped towards the console. Strike could only hear the muffled clicking sounds of the switches and buttons being put into use before a hissing sound started, and white gas began to pour from holes in the metal she hadn’t noticed were there. What the kriff… Strike stared at the Kaminoans as Lama Su smiled a thin, oily smile.

“Proceed, Nala Se.”

The scientist dipped her head acquiescently, then paused, hand hovering over a large blue button. Strike tried her best not to breathe in the gas, desperately probing at the glass panels to see if one would magically come loose. Then Nala Se pushed the button, and the world erupted into agony.

The tight feeling in her chest spiked, making her fall to the cold floor of the tank and curl her hands into her shirt in pain. A scream tore from her throat as it turned into a sharp ache jabbing out from inside her back. She clawed at her shoulders — a useless effort, though whether to relieve it or to possibly just distract from it, she didn’t know — and thrashed against metal and glass alike, gasping for breath as the building pressure threatened to suffocate her. Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it STOP-

The squeezing feeling abruptly stopped, replaced by an excruciating tearing that pulled another ragged cry from her sore throat, and she went limp. The glass walls that had been clear and pristine earlier were now smeared with blood and fragments of gore, she saw through slitted eyes.

She wanted to sob in relief when the door clicked open again and the guards gathered her up and onto a rolling gurney, carting her back to her room. Her limbs were weighted down with exhaustion, and she didn’t think she could have even moved an arm, much less broken free and run down the hall, if she’d wanted to. They set her down onto her bed with their usual cold detachment, not reacting with so much as a frown as she let out a choked whimper.

She didn’t move after they left, even as something foreign and heavy flopped over her side, only squeezing her eyes shut in pain. She didn’t know how long she stayed there. It could have been hours before she heard the metallic tapping of Cassian’s signal in the vent; it was all the strength she could use to raise her hand and tap back.

He came crawling through the duct probably a few minutes later, removing the grate over the entrance before his eyes widened at the state she was in, and he scrambled out of the vent to hover over her concernedly. He didn’t ask what had happened, just lay down to gently curl up alongside her. Wincing as his hand carefully moved the foreign object from on top of her to spread out over the rest of the bed, she realised it was a wing, feathered like a bird’s, but attached to her, downy (colour) plumage streaked red with blood. They both stared at it for a moment, before tears she didn’t even know had been there started to roll down her cheeks, and she found words pouring out in a chaotic cascade of an explanation until she just sobbed into his shoulder at the wrongness, the unfairness, the violation of it all. He held her all through it, gently offering soft words and touches of comfort.

“It hurts, Cass. I can’t move. I can’t breathe,” she whispered. His expression crumpled, and his eyes shone with unshed tears, like her pain was his own.

“I’ll stay right here. I promise.” Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled the white blanket over her and tucked her in carefully, avoiding her sore new wings, and was true to his word, staying put until she fell asleep.

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quarantineddreamer · 1 year

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As a Shadow | Chapter 1 - Don’t go

Oh my god I cannot believe I am actually posting this. I’ve been working on it for months and I am nervous (but excited!) to finally have it out in the world. (Click title for AO3, read below the cut).

There is the soothing music of waves lapping at the shore, in and out, a gentle sigh repeating…

Sand tickles her palms, and sunlight her face. Across her skin runs a cool breeze that she pulls into her lungs gratefully…

Jyn opens her eyes to scattered clouds chasing each other across a sapphire sky.

It’s not that she was expecting anything, but as she sits up to look around, her surroundings seem wrong. The clump of sand she takes into her hands and lets run through her fingers isn’t silky and white, it is coarse and black. Behind her are dramatic cliffs, jagged and covered in lichen. There is not a trace of warfare to be found, even the acrid smell of smoke is absent. The horizon she gazes upon is empty, peaceful, and sitting beside her is…

No one.

She is alone.

Somehow, this seems the most egregious error of all. Where are you? she wonders, but she doesn’t quite know who she is wondering about, only knows that a deep and aching loneliness has made itself at home in her chest.

She thinks she knows this place. There is a part of her that recognizes this beach and longs to rush into the waves like a child, savor the thrill of the frigid water as it swirls across her feet. Still, another part of her is overwhelmed by the feeling that she doesn’t belong here. That she is meant to be someplace else.

“Jyn,” a gentle voice calls, and this, too, is familiar. Painfully, impossibly so.

She doesn’t dare turn to the sound, doesn’t know what she will do if it proves to be only her mind playing tricks on her.

But the voice calls again, “Jyn.”

“Mama?”

And suddenly there she is, just like before, kissing the top of her head and squeezing her tight…

He’s holding her so close and still closer, clutching her with a fierceness that hurts, because they both know it is the first and last time they will embrace one another. They both knew it might end like this, but knowing is not the same as accepting, and now that they are here every part of her is raging against the injustice of their fate.

She wants more time, they should have had more time.

The world is growing bright, and…

“Jyn, what are you doing here?”

Her head is spinning. “Here?” She pulls away to stare at her mother’s face. Stars, how she missed her kind smile. The sight of it now brings tears to her eyes. “Mama, it’s so good to see you,” she breathes.

Lyra hugs her again. “I’ve missed you, Stardust,” she murmurs before releasing her, “but you shouldn’t be here.”

Jyn’s eyes scan the beach again. Lah’mu . Of course she should be here. “I’m home, Mama.”

But Lyra is shaking her head. “No, my love. Not yet.”

“Not today! Come on, move it, move it!” someone is screaming at them.

The temperature around them is climbing, her skin feels like it will burst into flames, but he is still with her, his hand in her own as the completely unexpected appears on the horizon. A ship. A chance. A miracle.

She helps him to his feet. Every muscle in her body complains as his weight falls against her, but she won’t leave him. She can’t leave him.

"Hurry!”

On Lah’mu nothing hurts except for this aching loneliness in her chest but she wonders if even that could fade in time, if the comfort of home might smother the memory of him enough for her to move on. Especially with her mother here, holding her hands and staring at her with… “Why do you look so sad, Mama? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“More than you could ever know,” she replies. Her cheeks glitter in the sunlight and it takes Jyn a moment to see that Lyra is crying. “I wish you could stay, but you are needed elsewhere, my love. The Force is calling for you.”

“What do you mean?” Jyn clutches at her mother’s hands. They are warm and alive and real. She doesn’t understand, she doesn’t understand any of it. How can something so wonderful feel so wrong? She wants to want this. She just needs a minute to catch her breath, to settle in.

“I know, my love, I know.” Lyra is wiping tears from her cheeks that Jyn did not realize were there. “We will all see each other again one day –me, you, and your Papa.”

“Papa?” He’s here too? “I want to see him. “Please, let me stay.”

There is a shattered expression on her mother’s face. Jyn remembers this look. It is the look Lyra gave her as she thrust her kyber-crystal into her too-small hands and kissed her forehead goodbye. Trust the force.

“I won’t leave.” Not again. Not this time. “I’m staying with you.”

“The decision was made before you arrived. Jyn, I’m so sorry, but you have to remember.”

“Jyn!”

No. No. She shakes her head against the current that threatens to pull her under. No one has ever needed her before, why now? This is the best she has ever felt, except for…

“Help me!” she shouts, voice hoarse and throat burning.

He’s growing heavier as his strength gives out.

“Stay with me, we’re almost there,” she urges him as they stagger forward. “Don’t you dare give up now.”

Maybe he laughs, maybe it’s just his lungs rattling as he fights for air.

She grasps the kyber-crystal that hangs from her neck and gives a hard tug. Once it is free, she shoves it into his hands. “Hold on,” she insists, and even though she’s never been much of a believer, she finds herself hoping that the Force might come to help him.

Someone is rushing out from the ship towards her, screaming over the roar of the rushing inferno. They wear goggles atop their head and panic all over their face as they take his weight from off her shoulders. “I’ve got him! Come on, come on!”

They begin to run as fast as they can with the injured man on their back

And Jyn starts to follow, but something red and violent bites the ground just beside her.

The enemy doesn’t want them to make it. The enemy wants to drag them down to hell to rot with them…

She can’t let that happen. They can’t have her friends. They can’t have him.

It’s already questionable if he will make it to the ship as slow as he is moving, even with the aid of a friend. Any further delay could mean death.

The blood in her veins is the same blood that had given life to the monstrosity looming in the sky above them; she won’t allow her friends to pay for that which is her burden.

She has run from this truth all her life, she won’t run anymore.

Jyn stops and turns to shoot at the Troopers. Her heart is hammering, it feels vulnerable without the kyber to absorb its vibrations and reply with warm reassurance. For most of her life the kyber had been a constant companion, at times, her only one. Now, there is a loneliness to her mind, nothing and no one to convey her thoughts to as she wills her friends to make it –make it to the ship, make it off the planet, make it out alive…

A bolt strikes her side, sends her crashing to her knees.

The taste of blood is in her mouth and every breath she takes is a slow agony.

The last thing she hears is his voice. Cassian’s voice. “JYN! NO!” it fades, lost to the rush of the engine and the crash of the planet disintegrating all around her.

Jyn sees the ship disappear above her, winking out like a star as it jumps into the open arms of the galaxy. The sight chases away all her pain; they made it.

He made it…

Jyn smiles…

“I love you…” Lyra’s voice recedes, lost to the rushing tide that has come to steal her away from the dark, ethereal shores.

There is the jarring scream of a machine, holding one long screeching note.

Her body tingles all over, humming with energy. She tries to inhale; her chest rises, but she cannot seem to capture any air…

Jyn opens her eyes to a nightmare.

She is standing beside a bed in an unfamiliar room with harsh fluorescent lighting and an unpleasant chemical smell. There is a tension to the atmosphere of the space that winds her stomach into anxious knots.

People and droids surround the bed, but her gaze passes over all of them to find his face, too-pale and too-still.

Cassian.

“Jyn?” His lips don’t move, but it’s his voice she hears, clear as can be.

She moves closer, slipping past the medical team to crouch beside him. “Cassian, what are you doing?”

“You’re gone…” his voice breaks on the words.

No… “I’m right here.”

A droid shoves a needle into Cassian’s arm, a med-core tears open his shirt to expose his bare chest to stick shock pads to it. Jyn ignores them, and they, much to her relief, ignore her.

The bed rattles. Cassian’s entire body jolts. The machine continues to scream that awful, piercing sound.

“Going again,” the med-core says, and again Cassian is shaken.

“Come on, Cass. Wake up…” Her hands curl into tight fists.

“Cass?” he chuckles. “You’ve never called me that before…”

“Do you want me to call you an idiot instead? Come on!” she says more urgently.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jyn…”

“Go one more time!”

“It’s good to see you, too… ”

The machine resumes a rhythmic beep.

Jyn sighs in relief as Cassian begins to stir.

His eyes open and instantly lock onto her face. “Jyn,” he rasps.

The med-core do not seem to find his speaking as encouraging a sign as she does, because they exchange meaningful glances, their faces tight with worry and something else she cannot place –something that unsettles her.

There is an awkward beat where the team appear to each be hoping the other will talk. When one of them shuts her eyes and turns away, shaking her head, Jyn is confused. What’s wrong?

The machine is still steadily beeping, the patient breathing. Cassian breathing, and staring at her so contentedly that she quickly forgets her worry.

One of the droids finally breaks the silence, prescribing logic to the moment, “You need to rest, Captain Andor.”

Jyn gives Cassian a lopsided smile. “They’re right, you know.”

“Don’t go anywhere, okay?” he murmurs, eyes already fluttering shut again.

I won’t…

The medical team attending to Cassian depart without comment once he is asleep. To Jyn’s surprise, no one looks twice at her or tells her to leave, so she settles in a chair by his bedside and waits –for what, she’s not sure.

After everything that happened on Scarif, she expects to be exhausted, ready to rest like Cassian is doing. Instead, she’s more awake than she thinks she’s ever been before, aware of every molecule in the room, and pulsing with an energy that lacks her usual restlessness.

Though she can’t remember visiting them, somehow, she knows her friends are alright –that Bodhi, Melshi, Baze, and Chirrut are all recuperating nearby. She chalks the gap in her memory up to a concussion, but the pain she has come to associate with such an injury is remarkably absent.

She figures she owes the med-core team a thank you for that. At some point, they must have given her some medicine, and it must have been strong, because it’s the only explanation she can think of to explain the humming in her body. To explain why she can’t feel the chair beneath her body or the texture of her clothes where they rest against her skin. She pulls at the sleeve of her jacket, and she can see her fingers clutching the material, but it is like her hands have gone completely numb and weightless, making it impossible for her to tell where her surroundings end and she begins. It’s disorienting at first, but she can’t seem to bring herself to panic despite how strange the sensation is.

Her mind is elsewhere, occupied by a thought that repeats over and over again, everyone’s okay, we’re all okay. It is all that matters. It is enough –it is everything.

To be watching over Cassian’s sleeping form, measuring each breath he takes, is a gift. So, Jyn curls up in the chair and appreciates the simple rise and fall of his chest while the world around her passes by in a distant blur to which she pays no mind, just as it seems to pay no mind to her.

When Melshi appears she’s somewhat perturbed to realize she has no idea how much time has passed. Another strange side effect of the meds? she wonders, as she slowly stretches her arms above her head and turns to give a soft smile in greeting.

But the man only seems to have eyes for Cassian, and she tries to take no offense when he walks past her without a word. Instead, she gives them space, playing the observer as he comes to a stop by the bed and reaches to give his friend’s arm a gentle squeeze.

The touch wakes Cassian, who blinks heavily before offering a small smile. He has to cough to clear his throat, before he says, “Melsh…you look like shit.”

“I should get you a mirror, Keef.”

Cassian grimaces heavily, his breath catching as he tries to sit up.

“Be careful, your back…”

“Hey, take it easy.” Melshi stops him with a hand to his shoulder, which Cassian grudgingly obeys.

He rolls his head in Jyn’s direction, but his stare is strangely unfocused, empty, as though he’s seeing past her. “Where’d Jyn go? Is she okay?”

“Very funny, asshole.” Now he decides to become a jokester?

“Cass…” Melshi’s face has gone white, his shoulders drop.

“She said she wouldn’t go anywhere. What happened? Did she say when she’d be back?”

He’s not joking. Why is he not joking? She feels sick, there’s something surging at the back of her mind, something ugly and horrible that tries desperately to keep it at bay. “I’m right here!”

“Cass, I-. I’m so sorry.”

Cassian doesn’t respond, just studies Melshi’s face with an intensity Jyn recognizes. It’s his truth-finding stare– the keen, knowing gaze that always made her feel like he was reading her mind. “No,” he breathes, shaking his head.

“You might not remember, but she…”

“Don’t.” He attempts to cut him off, utters the word with all the force of a command, as though stopping Melshi from uttering his next words will be enough to keep them from being true.

“Cass...she didn’t make it off Scarif.”

It hits her like lightning, cuts through her and strikes her core with a ferocity that makes a blaster shot feel like child’s play. Lah’mu. Her mother had been there. And then…

“Melshi, don’t fuck with me. She was here. I saw her.”

He had seen her. He had talked to her. She was sure of it. “Cassian!” she shouts, rising from her chair to seize the railing of his hospital bed and give it a hard shake. The bed remains perfectly still. Her eyes wander to where her hands lie, wrapped around the metal, her palms feeling none of its chill, feeling nothing at all. “Please look at me…”

“You’ve been out of it since we got back, Cass. They had to operate on your back, they’ve got you on a lot of pain meds…”

“She said she wouldn’t go, she said…” Cassian’s voice breaks, Jyn feels a part of herself shatter with it.

“I’m still here. I didn’t leave you, I promise.” But there’s a small part of her that wishes she had, because whatever twisted game the Force is playing she wants no part in it. This afterlife is pure torture, a fate worse than death, and she knows she hadn’t always been the best person, but she cannot imagine what she did to deserve this.

She has to watch as Cassian begins to accept the truth. She has to watch as the carefully controlled expression he always wears to mask his true feelings slips away, and she sees every bit of the pain and sadness that washes over him. She has to watch, and she can do nothing about it.

If she weren’t dead already, she thinks it might just kill her.

#As a Shadow #b writes #rebelcaptain fanfic #rebelcaptain #jyn x cassian #jyn erso #cassian andor #angst #rebelcaptain fanfiction #be mindful of the tags this one hurts #whump #major character death #major character undeath

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