#rebelcaptainficrecs

[jynappreciationsquad]

liminal (chapter two)

Summary: Between death and dying, Jyn learns about herself and her family.

Author’s Note: A massive thanks to my wonderful beta, @rapidashpatronus, who was her usual mix of supportive and providing awesome suggestions for improvement. In case anyone is looking for the first chapter, it can be found here on tumblr or here on AO3! Yavemiel

This chapter can also be read here on AO3.

Jyn both loved and dreaded the times Cassian came to visit.

She missed him like a physical ache that never went away, dulled while he was sat in the room, but so sharp when he left that she was always surprised her heart didn’t skip a beat.

He looked, to her eyes, wearier than ever. There was never a hint of it in his voice as he sat and gently told her about his day, but particularly when he was alone in the room, he let his guard down, shoulders slumped and his eyes fixed on her face telling her exactly how guilty he felt that it was her and not him in the pod.

She oscillated between the desire to comfort him and the desire to rail at him, tell him he had no right to feel guilty when he would (has) done the same for her.

Despite the mixed emotions, she looked forward to his visits most: when he was there, he barely left the room, not even to eat or shower, and Jyn felt the comfort of company for days at a time.

The downside was that as Rebel Intelligence’s most sought after asset, he couldn’t just...not go on missions because one of his team was out of action. The war went on after all.

In his absences (often overlapping with Kay’s), the members of the team left behind would tell Jyn every time he made contact, a courtesy she was profoundly grateful for.

He always came back from his missions slightly gaunt, eyes a little haunted and Jyn cursed the invisible barrier between them. The first few hours after he came back were always the hardest. His voice rough, he seemed incapable of keeping up the gentle chatter which usually accompanied his visits.

Instead, he read to her.

Jyn had never been much for reading. When she was younger, she had always wanted to be out playing and doing and then Saw had little patience for frivolities such as education (that was unrelated to war) or downtime, so she had never picked up the habit.

Cassian, it turned out, was an avid reader, who had thousands of stories tucked away on his datapad and Jyn was enchanted by this previously unseen facet of him.

He read her what he called ‘The Classics’, stories about a man stranded on a planet far from home after a war and his trials travelling to his homeworld. He read her lighter stories, fairytales about true love and ridiculous murder mysteries in which she became ridiculously engaged.

Once, he read her poetry in his native language. She could only pick out a few words here and there, beginner that she was, but she loved the way his voice lilted and curled around the words that were clearly so dear to him. She vowed that when she woke up, she would put more effort into learning Festian, just to see Cassian’s eyes light up.

So it went for months. Jyn watched her lifesigns grow almost imperceptibly stronger, watched medics come in and take readings and tell her team ‘Not yet...soon’, watched Cassian come and go and come and go.

And then he didn’t come back.

He had told her about the mission before he left, a ‘standard job, in and out, I’ll only be a week...ten days at most.’

But a week came and went, and then another and her team’s faces were more pinched as they came to her and said ‘No word from Cassian yet...soon, I’m sure he’ll get in contact soon’, and Jyn raged at her weak body, lying there and preventing her from doing something. Anything.

And then finally, finally it came. Bodhi came dashing in to her room, limbs flailing and speech even more stilted and stutter-filled than usual, but Jyn got the jist: Cassian was back, not unhurt, but alive. She was so caught up in her relief she missed the slight blip on her heart monitor.

**

It was almost two days before Cassian came to see her, much longer than he usually delayed after a mission, but she knew from the frequent updates from the rest of her team that it wasn’t for lack of trying, the medics utterly forbade it and he was too weak for a jailbreak.

On the evening of the second day, the door to Jyn’s room opened and her heart soared to see Cassian there, even as it ached for the pain she could see etched on his face as Kay helped him into the chair beside Jyn’s medpod.

There was silence broken only by Cassian’s laboured breathing before Kay straightened abruptly and said “I shall leave the two of you alone”, and clanked out of the room.

Then there was silence for so long that Jyn might have thought Cassian was asleep if she hadn’t been able to see his eyes, fixed on her face inside the pod. Eventually he stretched out a hand and put it on the pod near her hand. He took a deep, hitching breath and blew it out in a sigh before speaking.

“This was a bad one, Jyn.”

She knew instinctively that he wasn’t talking about his physical injuries. He was quiet for another while, visibly gathering his thoughts before he opened his mouth and began to tell her a tale of a mission gone wrong: vanishing contacts who turned out to be colluding with tempire, imaginary supplies used a lure to bait a trap for a spy.

He told her about the troopers waiting for him at the end of an alley, his gut instinct the only thing that saved him as he dived under a blaster bolt meant for his head. He told her about the firefight that followed, how he felt a gaping absence at his back (and she could almost feel her truncheons slide into her hands), and his voice hitched again as he told her about the collateral damage in his escape: civilians hurt (killed) by a grenade he threw at the troopers, a freighter blasted out of the sky by TIE fighters as he frantically piloted to his freedom.

She could see the torment the innocent lives lost caused him and she longed as never before to wrap him in her arms, press kisses to his hairline and murmur words of love and scant comfort.

He moved closer to her and rested his forehead against her medpod, eyes closed, and if she hadn’t been in the air around him she wouldn’t have heard his soft murmur. “Ay, cómo te extraño, mi luz.”

He opened his eyes and she could see the sheen of tears, though she wasn’t sure he’d ever let them fall.

“My world is so dark without you, Jyn. You’re so bright, you light up everything, but without you, everything is grey, almost back to the way it was before we met, but I’ve seen the light now, and I can’t go back. The team, they help, but we’re missing the thing that keeps us held together, and…”

He trailed off and blew out his breath, tapping his forehead gently against the glass. “Jyn, if you can hear me, please, please come back. You have to come back.”

‘I’m trying’, she thought desperately.

**

The next week was excruciatingly long.

In some ways, it was positive. Not long after Cassian’s plea, the medteam in charge of her treatment announced that she was stable enough to be taken off life support and be brought out of the induced coma.

She watched in fascination as the upper cover of the pod was removed and various wires and tubes which had been discreetly connected to her body were gradually taken away too.

And then...she waited.

The trembling hope she’d seen on Cassian’s face as he took her hand for the first time in months gave way to worried frustration for both of them as her breathing remained even and her eyes remained stubbornly closed day after day. The medteam assured him (them) that it was all normal, that Jyn had moved from the induced coma to natural sleep and would wake up when she was ready, and all the while Jyn chafed impatiently at the invisible bonds keeping her away from her body.

She was never left alone, her team afraid that she would wake disoriented with no-one close by. Cassian was a near-constant presence, alone or accompanied, unless his own medteam came and commandeered him for tests and treatments of his own.

Almost ten days after she had officially been taken off life support, Cassian briefly absent, it was just her and Chirrut, the latter sitting in uncharacteristic silence by her bedside, head bowed and his hands clenched tight on his staff.

He looked up suddenly and Jyn recoiled in shock: it seemed as though he was looking directly at her.

“Don’t give up hope, little sister.”

She stared at him in disbelief. He had never given any previous indication that he could sense her presence.

‘Chirrut...can you hear me?’

He didn’t respond, and her heart sank, only to rise as he started speaking again.

“I know you must be frustrated, with a wait as long as this, eager to get back to your friends and family.” He gave a wry smile. “Patience never was your strong suit.”

Jyn barely heard the playful insult, so focused was she on his first words. Friends and family?

Chirrut grew serious again. “Hope though...I have never before met someone with your hope, Jyn. It is a shining light for anyone who cares to see, a beacon,” he gestured almost mockingly at his own eyes, “even for the blind.”

Jyn was overwhelmed. Months she had been stuck in that pod, plenty of time for her team - no, her family, they had earned that - to abandon her, to drift from her side as life carried them onwards, or to take her passive state as a chance to unburden their frustrations and anger on her, but instead, instead they had remained the one constant in her half-life, a constant source of company and support and love, even when they didn’t know she was there to appreciate it.

Chirrut smiled gently as he leaned back in his chair.

“You’re so close now, little sister. I can feel your presence so strongly, where before it was faint, almost like an aftertaste. It won’t be long now until you’re back with us. You’ll see.”

He fell silent again, and Jyn felt tired suddenly, the room seeming faded and far away for the first time in months, and finally, finally...she fell asleep, content.

**

Jyn opened her eyes and smiled. Her family smiled back.

                                                            fin

#rogue one #jyn erso #dailyrebelcaptain #rebelcaptainficrecs #therebelcaptainnetwork #ours #by: yavemiel #fanfiction #other: cassian andor #other: chirrut imwe #other: baze malbus #other: bodhi rook #other: k2so #text

[vanderlinde-moved]

a bitter truth, part two

Cassian wakes and begins the healing process. Jyn faces even more horrors that the Empire has to offer. 

warning for torture throughout the chapter.

read it on ao3!

The second time Cassian wakes, he notices that he’s on a ship before he even opens his eyes. He can feel the hum of the engine through the floor and realizes that this must be the transport off of Yavin 4 that Leia had mentioned the last time he was awake.

He wonders, briefly, where they’re going. He doesn’t think anyone will tell him, not after he went rogue, but he hopes it’s somewhere drastically different than Yavin. Cold, maybe. He’ll be happy with a frozen wasteland. Anything would be better than a planet with a similar climate with Yavin -- he knows better than anyone how even the smallest things can trigger buried memories.

There are too many things that happened on Yavin 4 that he doesn’t want to remember.

And then his thoughts drift as to what his punishment could be. After all, he did follow the lead of a criminal and take about thirty of the Alliance’s best men on a suicide mission that ended up with almost all of them being dead.

(not that he’ll say that, of course. he’ll assume full responsibility for the mission. jyn’s dead. the least he can do is try to take the blame off of her name, whatever good that’ll do.)

He figures they’ll demote him. If the Rebellion had wanted to kick him out, they wouldn’t have given him medical treatment and taken him with them to wherever they’re going. It doesn’t bother him. All he wants to do is help the Alliance -- he’s dedicated his life to it. It doesn’t matter how he helps so long that he is.

He takes stock of his injuries. The aches and pains that had been persistent the first time he had woken up are no longer there and he feels almost like he’s floating. Most of his body is numb.

The second thing he notices is that he can’t feel his legs.

He can’t move them. For a spy, this realization comes later than it should and panics him considerably more than the first one does. What good a soldier than can’t walk?

As soon as his heart rate monitor spikes, a nurse is at his side. “Breathe, Captain,” the woman urges, leaning over him. She purposefully becomes the only thing in his line of sight and he tries to focus on her face but his eyes are moving too wildly for that. “You need to take deep breaths, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“My legs -- “ he gasps out. His head is spinning and there are black spots dancing in front of his vision. A very small voice in the back of his mind tells him that he needs to calm down or else he’s going to pass out. “I can’t -- I can’t feel my legs -- “

“Your legs are fine, Captain Andor,” the nurse soothes, cupping his face in her hands. He tries to meet her gaze, but his eyes can’t seem to stay in one place for very long. “You’re under heavy medication and they’re bandaged pretty tightly, but as far as we can tell, they’re going to be fine. I’m going to give you something to help you calm down, okay?”

“I -- “ His breath is still coming in sharp gaps, but knowing that he’s not paralyzed lifts a weight off of his shoulders. He doesn’t know what he would do if he couldn’t go out in the field -- he’s spent his whole life in Intelligence and doesn’t think that he knows how to do anything else. “I can’t -- “

“It’ll be okay,” she says softly, switching out one of the bags attached to an IV. Vaguely, he realizes she’s drugging him, but doesn’t care enough to say anything. Calm washes over him almost immediately, and he closes his eyes in contentment. “You’ll be okay.”

As Cassian drifts off into sleep, he hopes that she’s right.

(but the rational part of him knows that she isn’t.)

 Lying on the dirty, dark floor of her cell with one hand wrapped around her stomach as if to keep her guts inside of her, all Jyn wants is a hot shower.

She can endure the torture. The eight years she spent with Saw and the seven she spent on her own left her with both abandonment issues and an extremely high pain tolerance. But all she really wants is to get clean -- her hair is lanky and full of grease, and the blood staining her skin won’t go away no matter how hard she scrubs and claws and scratches.

No matter what she does, it doesn’t go away.

(all of those people died on scarif because of her.)

While her intestines are no longer in danger of falling out of her, the wound on her stomach is hot to the touch. She knows that it’s most likely infected but there’s nothing she can do about that. Her leg aches. She realized days ago that it’s probably more than a sprain, since she can barely put her weight on it. The only good thing about her situation (if there is a good thing) is that her head has stopped pounding. Now, it’s only a dull throb. She’s not so stupid to believe the concussion has gone away, however.

If she wants bacta patches and the torture to stop, she needs to give Krennic the information he wants about the Rebellion. Jyn knows it’s in her best interest to just tell him what she knows. But for some reason, she can’t make herself talk.

She doesn’t know why, exactly. She owes the Alliance nothing, not after they killed her father and refused to go to Scarif. She can only imagine how much better the mission would have been with the Council’s support. Cassian, Baze, Bodhi, Chirrut -- they could all be alive.

The thought of that makes her hands clench into fists. Everyone she’s ever cared about -- or potentially could have cared about -- has abandoned her. By choice or not, it doesn’t matter; they’re still gone. Her mother is dead. Her father is dead. Saw is dead. Rogue One is dead.

Why the fuck should she care about their secrets when they hadn’t given a fuck about her?

She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know why her mouth stays shut whenever the IT-O droid injects her with yet another painful concoction or when Krennic orders his guards to take turns beating her. It’s certainly not doing her any favors.

She’s never cared before. Never had the luxury for political opinions.

Why does it matter so much to her that she stays silent?

(deep down, she thinks that maybe she’s tired of not looking up. she’s tired of running. cassian had welcomed her home on yavin 4. at the very least, she’s protecting the rebellion in his memory.

he had believed in her. it’s time she does something for him.)

 There are no survivors from the original group that went to Scarif. No survivors of the original Rogue One.

(it doesn’t surprise him. it shouldn’t.)

Most of the pilots and calvary that came after them lived, but he doesn’t know specifics. But out of everyone there, nobody comes to visit him.

The ones who are in medical beds like he is don’t make eye contact. The ones who lost a family member or friend on the suicide mission shoot him dirty looks.

Cassian doesn’t meet any of their gazes and pretends to be asleep.

 Out of all of the people on the Star Destroyer, Jyn only knows one name: Krennic.

The other guards are faceless, unknown beings. She knows which ones like to hurt her and which ones hold back on their punches. She can tell which ones agree wholeheartedly with the Empire’s propaganda and which ones are uncertain, unsure.

But what she doesn’t know is their names or their life stories or where they came from. For all she knows, there could be dozens of potential defectors on this Star Destroyer. There could be people like Bodhi, just trying to earn a couple extra credits to feed their family or people who had no choice but to conscript or die trying to rebel.

It shouldn’t bother her. It doesn’t. After all, it’ll be much easier to kill all of these guards when she finally gets out of here if she doesn’t know anything about them.

They’ll just be another stain on her already crimson hands. It’s not like she’ll even notice the extra blood, not with all of the lives she’s already taken.

 “Andor. Good to see you up and about.”

Draven is formal with him, as always, hands clasped behind his back as he watches Cassian struggle through physical therapy. Cassian notes the lack of rank and wonders if he’s been demoted already without his knowledge.

“General,” he says respectfully, with a slight nod in acknowledgement. He tries to keep his voice calm and collected, but he can’t quite keep the strain out of his tone as he hobbles around in a pair of crutches.

They look at each other in silence for a moment. Draven’s careful gaze calculates the shape that he’s currently in while Cassian stops and does his best to catch his breath silently. After a pause, Draven’s eyes meet his again. “You’ve recovered well from your injuries, I see.”

“I have, sir,” he responds, trying (and failing) to figure out Draven’s motives for visiting him. “The nurses tell me that I’ll be fit for duty in about a month, give or take.”

Draven waves his hand as if to shoot down that suggestion. This surprises Cassian. “Focus on getting better first, Andor. I can’t have my best agent compromised because he didn’t follow the doctor’s orders.”

“Sir?” Cassian questions, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. Is saying that simply a way to soften the blow that he knows Draven will follow-up with? “I thought -- well, after Scarif -- “

Draven cuts him off before he can finish his thought. “That’s one of the reasons I came to talk to you. Even though you went rogue, you still managed to get the Death Star plans. You played a big role in its destruction. Many of the Rebellion’s people are praising the Rogue One team as heroes, right up there with Skywalker and Solo.”

“I wasn’t the only one,” Cassian is quick to add when Draven takes a breath. It doesn’t seem as if Rogue One will be condemned for their actions, but it’s not right for him to take all of the credit. “There were others too. Good men and women died on that beach.”

“And they will be remembered as heroes,” Draven placates. “It is because of this that the Council has decided to pretend that the mission to Scarif was sanctioned. The retrieval of the Death Star plans was a win for the Rebellion.”

Cassian pauses. “And that means what exactly, sir?”

“Well, for one thing, we can’t exactly punish a hero, now can we?” Draven replies with a wry smile. Cassian can’t tell if he’s happy or not with this decision; Draven always did have the best damn spy face in the business. “Once you’re done with medical leave, you’ll resume active duty in Intelligence. However, if you go rogue again, there will be severe consequences.”

“Understood, sir.” Cassian says evenly. Despite the relief that he should be feeling, his stomach churns. So many people were killed on Scarif, and here he is, alive and unpunished. It leaves a sour taste in the back of his mouth. “Thank you, sir.”

Draven holds up a hand. “There is another matter that I wish to discuss with you, Captain. The medical team, out of consideration of your poor health, restricted information from you during your recovery. They believed that it might interfere with your recovery.”

Cassian waits for him to continue. He remembers how haunted Leia had looked a couple days ago when she had visited him; that same look is in Draven’s eyes now. His stomach clenches.

“Destroying the Death Star was not without casualties,” Draven says finally, with a heavy sigh. “It fired on Alderaan before we could. The planet is. . .” he seems lost for words for a second, shifting his gaze. “The planet is gone. I’m sorry, Cassian.”

For a moment, Draven’s words don’t register. And then it clicks.

Cassian can’t breathe. His crutches clatter to the ground and he sags against the wall, barely standing upright. The blood is pounding so loudly in his ears that he doesn’t know if he heard Draven right. “The whole planet? ”

“Yes.”

He swears in Festian, tearing his gaze away from Draven. He had known people on Alderaan and now they’re gone. They’re dead. They’re all dead.

Cassian tries to keep his mask up, he really does. There’s no place for showing emotions like this in Intelligence and he’s sure that Draven won’t stand for it.

But to Cassian's surprise, even seeing through Cassian's mask like he always does, the General places a comforting hand on Cassian’s shoulder. At this small, insignificant touch, he breaks down almost immediately.

Cassian can’t remember the last time he cried. But standing here in the medical bay with the closest person he’s had to a father for the past twenty years, he can't keep the tears at bay.

 When Krennic returns, his two guards hoist her up by her armpits, just high enough so her feet skim the ground. She lets them, and steels her jaw, ready for the beating she knows she’s about to receive. Instead, they lead her out the doorway.

“Where are we going?” Jyn demands, as if she’s in any position to be making demands right now.

Krennic hums. She doesn’t like the look on his face. “You’ll see.”

Instead of dwelling on his ominous statement, she takes the time observe her surroundings. The prison block that she’s in is fairly small, with only about twenty other cells in the area. There’s two doors at the end of the hall, but the device on the wall next to them tells her that she’s going to need to steal a keycard if she wants to get out of here.

Currently, her plan of action is to ambush the guards when they come to bring her meals. She has to lure them into her cell somehow, and then neutralize and take their armor. But with each passing day, especially considering her current physical state, her plan seems more and more unlikely.

But she’s not going to rot in this kriffing prison for Force only knows how many years. She’s going to escape or die trying.

They stop in front of another unmarked cell, although it’s much bigger than hers. She’s about to complain about her lack of space (her mother always told her that her mouth would get her in trouble) until she sees what’s inside.

There’s a boy, not much younger than her strapped to a chair in the middle of the room. She doesn’t recognize him, but she doesn’t expect to. He’s barely conscious, eyelids fluttering with the effort in staying awake. A guard stands behind the chair, clearly in the middle of an interrogation. But what makes her mouth go dry is the amount of blood pooled on the floor and splattered on the walls.

“Miss Erso,” Krennic says cordially, as if he’s introducing her to a friend and not someone who’s almost dead, “meet Private Cado Dravvad. Rebel Intelligence.”

“What’s going on?” Jyn hisses through her teeth, straining at the guard’s hold on her. “Why have you brought me here?”

Instead of answering her questions, Krennic walks over to the boy and pulls his head up roughly from where it’s lying on his chest. Cado groans in pain, and the sound makes Jyn flinch.

“I need answers,” Krennic says finally. “And you’re not giving them to me. It doesn’t look like you will either.”

“Like hell I’m not.”

Krennic inclines his head in agreement. “We picked up Private Dravvad here two days ago. So far, he hasn’t given us any information either. So,” Krennic motions to the guard hiding in the shadows of the cell to come forward, “if you don’t talk, then the private here is going to pay for that.”

Jyn clenches her jaw and tries to look away, but one of the guards jerks her face forward so she has to watch. She’s seen this kind of thing dozens of times under Saw’s care, but has never experienced it herself.

(the kid looks so small sitting on that chair. there’s still baby fat on his face, he can’t be older than twenty. and now he’s going to feel the weight of all of her crimes against the empire.)

“Miss Erso, can you tell me where the Rebellion’s headquarters are located?”

“Don’t -- “ Cado croaks, but the guard backhands him across the face. Cado’s head snaps to the side and blood trickles out of his nose.

“How old are you?” she asks instead, directing the question at Cado. She meets his gaze and tries to soften her eyes. It’s okay, she tries to convey. It’s going to be okay.

“I’m uh -- “ he pauses to spit blood out of his mouth. “I’m eighteen, miss.”

“You’re just a kid,” Jyn whispers, even though she had been much younger when she started. He must have been recently conscripted. “Krennic, he’s just a kid.”

She knows that Cassian conscripted at a young age. Now, she sees him in that chair instead of Cado, young and broken and bloody. Her stomach rolls and bile rises up in her throat. This isn’t right, this isn't right.

“He’s a rebel,” he replies, and then guard slices off one of Cado’s fingers.

“Private Cado Dravvad. Seven-four-five-six-six-four. Private Cado Dravvad. Fuck -- seven-f-four. . .seven-four-five. . .six-six-four. . .”

“Are you going to answer my first question or is the private here going to lose another finger?”

“Don’t do this,” she pleads, her mask of indifference shattering in the face of a young kid who’s being tortured in her place. “This isn’t his fight and you know it. Please.”

“Answer the question.”

"I don't know!" she cries out, trying to break free. "They didn't tell me anything about where they were going. I don't know where they are!"

Krennic taps his chin, as if he's considering her answer for the hundredth time she's told him. "Not good enough."

This time, the guard cuts off two of the boy’s fingers and the resulting scream is something she knows is going to be repeating in her head for days after.

“Seven-four-five. . .six-six-four.”

“Do try and cooperate, Miss Erso. Private Dravvad only has so many fingers.”

Jyn bites down on her tongue and coppery taste of blood fills her mouth. “Where are you from, Cado?”

“Coruscant,” he rasps back with a small smile, even in the face of torture. “Used t’ live in the. . .the slums though. . .”

“I lived there too, when I was very young,” she replies softly, trying to blink away tears. It’s useless -- they fall anyway. “I don’t remember much of it.”

“I’ll show. . .you around if -- Fuck!” The guard cuts off his remaining fingers on his left hand and Cado swears violently, tears streaming down his face too. Blood squirts out of the wounds, a steady drip adding to the pools below him.

“My patience is wearing thin, Jyn,” Krennic says evenly. The guard wipes the blood off of the vibroblade on the material of his pants and holds it to the boy’s throat. Jyn’s heart constricts. “Will you cooperate or not?”

Jyn knows what's coming next.

"I don't think it hurts much," she murmurs, trying to soothe. Cado's scared eyes dart to hers and she forces a smile. All of the fight leaving her body in a heavy breath. Her gazes takes in his appearance, trying to remember his face. "It'll be okay. I promise." 

“I know what -- what I signed up. . .for, miss,” he says softly.

“Enough!” Krennic yells, then snatches the blade out of the guard’s grip and cuts Cado’s throat himself.

Jyn collapses. If it weren’t for the guard’s strong grip, she would have fallen to the floor. She watches Cado’s life leave his eyes and watches the blood flow out of his neck. It’s getting his uniform dirty. Bloodstains are difficult to get out of clothing.

Krennic motions for the guards to take her out of the room. She notices the lack of blood staining his white uniform. It’s pristine and clean as always. “Reflect on this. His death is on your conscience now. I hope that you’ll be more cooperative in a couple of hours.”

“I hate you,” she snaps suddenly, all of her fire returning. Her jaw hardens and her eyes flash. “You’ll pay for this. I’ll make you pay.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Miss Erso,” he chides as his guards drag her back to her cell. They unceremoniously throw her in and she lands in a heap, but doesn’t bother to get on her feet.

When she hears the guards leave her, she curls up even tighter and sobs.

#rogue one #rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fic #dailyrebelcaptain #rebelcaptainficrecs #my writing

[dasakuryo]

Endless list of favourite Rogue One fics → Gray Areas by theputterer

Gray, in all its varieties, serves as a perfect understanding of who Cassian Andor is. Gray gives Cassian Andor’s life meaning. It colors it, entirely. The life of Cassian Andor, from the ice-covered mountains of Fest, to the white sand beaches of Scarif, and all the gray areas in between.

[Read on AO3]

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptainficrecs #therebelcaptainnetwork #dailyrebelcaptain #I am still screaming about this fic months later #but can't wrap my mind to write a coherent well thought review on ao3 #so I managed to churn this out instead

[rxbxlcaptain]

Begin Again

I originally came up with this prompt for Jyn Erso Appreciation Week prompt “Need” but, well, it takes me forever to write so here we are, a million years later. But in the wise words of @thenewleeland​, Jyn Erso Appreciation Week never really ends ;) A million thanks to @wearesuchstuff1 for her amazing beta work.

Warning: There’s nothing graphic, but there is mention of blood and injuries.

Summary: The one where Jyn clearly knows Han Solo, and Cassian wants to learn how. 

Words: 5311

AO3 /  Below the Cut!

“Well, well, well, Kestrel Dawn. Didn’t expect to find you hanging around the Rebellion.”

The hairs on the back of Jyn’s neck stood on end at the sound of the voice. She should have suspected, really, when she saw the Millennium Falcon in the hanger and heard the roars of a Wookiee. There’s only one smuggler in the entire universe bold enough to travel with two such conspicuous companions.

Jyn glanced over her shoulder, nonchalant, to see the cocky grin come into view.

“Han Solo,” she nodded. “I could say the same to you.”

Cassian, who had been standing next to her, examining the evacuation plan the Rebellion had issued, looked up at the exchange. His face was too blank for the average rebel walking past to read him – but after the Battle of Scarif, Jyn was much more than an average rebel. His eyes tightened and his lips were pressed thin; Han Solo’s presence – or that the smuggler who returned the Alderaanian princess to the Alliance was addressing Jyn by an old alias, like they were friends from days gone by – confused him.

Jyn refused to look towards Cassian, choosing instead to focus on the smuggler. An arrogant smile stretched across his face and even standing still Jyn sensed his signature swagger hadn’t changed. If she had to wager a guess, the amount of money and supplies currently being transferred into the Falcon was the cause of the smug satisfaction flowing off him right now.

“Don’t be so cold, kid,” he said. Jyn’s hands clenched into fists at the nickname. “After all we’ve been through together?”

He walked off with a clap on her shoulder, laughing as he went. Jyn willed her heartbeat to slow and her muscles to unclench. She didn’t owe Han Solo anything, she reminded herself, not even admitting that they had a past together.

Don’t go down that path, she told herself. Don’t go down that path.

Cassian’s gaze shifted to her as Solo sauntered away. “You know him?”

Jyn shrugged, turning her attention back to the escape plan. “Knew him, I suppose.”

Cassian didn’t turn back to the plans as she hoped he would. Instead, his eyes stayed on her, drilling small holes into her focus with his intense gaze.

“He called you Kestrel.”

Jyn didn’t answer.

“You didn’t correct him.”

“He doesn’t need to know my real name.”

Cassian turned his head, watching the smuggler once again, and Jyn risked a glance at his face to gauge his expression. His eyes flickered to hers again, before she looked away.

“That could be helpful, you know,” he said and Jyn raised an eyebrow at him.

“My knowing Han Solo could be useful? How?”

Cassian shrugged. “High Command tends to be cautious about who comes and goes from base. Vouching for his character could get him off base quicker.”

Jyn’s ears perked at that. The less time she needed to spend around Han Solo and the less time she needed to confront her past the better. “What would I need to do?”

“Explain to High Command how you know him. Tell them that he’s trustworthy,” Cassian explained. “Just so they have something to go on.”

Explain how you know him.

Jyn shook her head before Cassian finished his sentence. The High Command of the Rebel Alliance knew enough about her background as it was; the last thing they needed was another access point to her turbulent past.

“Never mind then,” Jyn said, her voice clipped. “He can find his own way to make the Alliance trust him.”

Cassian shot her a confused glance, but didn’t ask about their history, for which Jyn was grateful.

The thought nagged at the back of her mind as Han Solo returned to Base One for a glorious reception, as the princess he saved awarded him a medal for his assistance in blowing up the Death Star, and as Jyn assisted the Rogue One crew in evacuating off Yavin. She avoided him – avoided his boisterous laugh and his ship and his seven-foot shadow – wherever possible. If their paths did cross, phantom pains shot through her ribs and hunger clawed at her insides: the memories of her history with Han Solo, creeping through the cracks in her mind’s cave.

“Jyn Erso, huh?”

Jyn, half hidden by the belly of a damaged X-Wing, flinched at the words, slamming her forehead into one of the ship’s exhaust ports. She released a string of curses under her breath - both at the ship and at the man speaking.

Sliding out from underneath the ship still clutching her forehead (that was going to bruise), Jyn asked, “What do you want, Solo?”

“Nothing,” the man shrugged, making himself comfortable leaning against a nearby crate, his arms crossed over his chest. “Did you get in much trouble?”

“Trouble for what?” Jyn asked absentmindedly while touching her hand to the new bump on her forehead. No blood came away so she dropped her worries.

“For me blowing whatever identity you’ve got going here.”

“You didn’t blow any identity,” Jyn replied, nonchalant, turning away from Han to grab a rag, wiping grease off her hands.

“So the great military institution that is the Rebel Alliance,” Han’s voice colored the phrase with sarcasm, “doesn’t care that you haven’t given them your real name?”

Jyn sighed. “Did it ever occur to you that I gave you a false name?”

Han snorted in response. “You can call me a lot of things, sister, but stupid ain’t one of them. Kestrel Dawn isn’t your real name. No one going by their real name winds up in the hell I found you.”

Jyn’s teeth ground together in frustration, turning back to the ship. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d get bored and go bother the Princess instead...

“Really, what is it with women in this rebellion hating you for saving their lives?”

But of course he wouldn’t leave - why waste the effort to finding someone new to bother when she was perfectly available?

“Maybe,” Jyn muttered, rummaging through her tool bag and refusing to look at Han, “the women of this rebellion don’t owe you anything and don’t appreciate you sticking around.”

Han snorted, shifting to lean against the X-Wing, right in Jyn’s line of vision. “That’s cold, kid.”

“Don’t call me ‘kid,’” Jyn warned. She stood, wishing her full height was more intimidating, praying she didn’t remind him of the scarred and broken child she’d been the last time they met. “Stay out of my way, Solo.”

“Whatever you say.” Han raised his hands in surrender and stepped back slightly. Just as Jyn thought he was leaving, however, he spoke once more: “Just answer me this. Jyn Erso… Is that your real name?”

Jyn glanced back over her shoulder at him. The name Erso didn’t seem to mean anything to him - most smugglers don’t keep up with high ranking Imperial science officers, it seems - but the name still felt like a precious secret, something she needed to keep close to her chest, hidden deep inside the clandestine cave inside her mind. The idea that the Alliance knew the name still rubbed her the wrong direction.

But…

With her father gone, her mother long reduced to a memory, no one else remained to bear the Erso name. If she wouldn’t claim it, no one else ever would.

“Yeah,” she told Han and gave a small, sarcastic salute. “Sergeant Jyn Erso of Rebel Alliance, at your service.”

“Jyn Erso,” Han repeated back with a nod and a half-formed smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“I wish that smuggler wasn’t so damn useful,” Draven muttered so that only Cassian heard him. “And that I wouldn’t get a fight from the princess if I kicked him off base.”

Cassian eyed the smuggler in question from across the half-constructed War Room of Echo Base. Settling into the base proved to be more difficult than originally expected – and the original expectations were far from pleasant – but the extra assistance from Han Solo, his Wookiee, and the Millennium Falcon eased more burdens than many wanted to admit. Like General Draven, many members of the high command didn’t trust Solo, Cassian among that number. Cassian had relied on too many men like Solo as double-crossing informants over the years to ever be at ease around him.

But, like it or not, the captain seemed to have made the Rebel Alliance – or was it Princess Leia? – his new home.

“Sergeant Erso knew him,” Cassian commented. He hesitated at the general’s urgent glance. “Years ago. I’m not sure the full story.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen them interact,” Draven said, a clear question in his voice.

Cassian had. Not often, and never intentionally, but he’d seen Solo and Jyn interact. Despite all the other details Cassian had learned of Jyn’s past, she never explained how she knew Solo. Since the smuggler knew her as “Kestrel,” Cassian knew their history fell somewhere in the blurry zone right after Saw abandoned her, a section of her life Jyn never wished to speak about.

They weren’t old lovers; of that much Cassian was certain. The envious thought had crossed his mind in those first hesitant days where he and Jyn tip-toed around their feelings for each other before falling headfirst into each other’s hearts and beds, but Jyn never minded discussing flings from days gone by, tended to think the brief connections she made were amusing rather than embarrassing.

Cassian worried that Solo had hurt her somehow, that a desperate sixteen-year old Jyn had depended on the smuggler for something essential – food, shelter, passage off whatever rock she was stuck on – and he’d failed her. The way her shoulders tensed and her hands curled into fists around him, defensive rather than combative, suggested as much.

“If you don’t trust him,then you should tell command.” Cassian had told her when the sight of Solo and the Wookiee entering the hanger made Jyn’s shoulders slouch forward, making her already small frame tinier than normal. If the smuggler scared Jyn then Cassian had a duty to keep him far away from the Rebellion – and from Princess Leia who’s shouting matches with the Corellian were already legendary, only a few standard weeks after the Battle of Yavin.

“That’s not it,” Jyn had sighed, refusing to meet his eyes. “I think he’s trustworthy. I just don’t like him.”

Cassian had grunted in response. Jyn didn’t like many people, and those people traditionally ended up with her fist in their face. Whatever it was with Solo, it was personal.

“If the Sergeant has information on Han Solo’s past, it would be imperative that she shares it with the Rebellion,” Draven reminded Cassian before snorting lightly. “Though if you didn’t get the full story out of her, I imagine it’s unlikely we would.”

Cassian kept his face neutral, as was often necessary when General Draven made less than subtle comments on his relationship with Jyn. “She’d inform High Command if she thought she had pertinent information, sir. I think their interactions were much more trivial. Some form of smuggling activities years ago.”

“Sounds likely.” Draven nodded. He turned to Cassian after a moment, a serious expression on his face. “Do keep me informed if the matters turn out to be less trivial, Captain.”

“Sir.”

At dinner that evening, Cassian found Jyn and Bodhi sitting at a table with Kes Dameron, Wedge Antilles, and Luke Skywalker, all of whom were ignoring their quickly cooling dinners while talking animatedly. Jyn smiled at him as he slid into the seat next to her.

“What did I miss?” Cassian asked, glancing down the table at their smiling faces. “Last I heard, you were assigned to spend the day clearing ice away from the hallways.”

“Oh, we were,” Jyn said.

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “Nothing about that activity is enjoyable.”

“Nothing about any activity on this planet is enjoyable, in case you haven’t noticed,” Kes pointed out. He grinned at Cassian. “But we rebels are resourceful.”

“Imaginative!” Bodhi threw in.

“Truly ingenious,” Luke added.

Before the group spent the next hour naming other adjectives, Cassian broke in. “And you’re certain none of you have been drinking?”

The group laughed.

“Nope,” Jyn assured him, holding out her warm mug of caf – or whatever passed for caf in the rebellion – as proof. “We had a little too much fun clearing that ice away. Made it into a bit of a competition. See who could clear the ice away the fastest.”

“You’ll be shocked to learn that was Jyn’s idea,” Kes laughed. He pointed his fork in her direction.

“I still can’t get over how much power you pack behind your tiny punch.”

Cassian laughed into his own mug of caf. “Just you wait until you see her with truncheons, Dameron. Then you’ll really be amazed.”

Jyn’s grin vanished from her face as another person sat down at the table.

“She’s got a strong set of fists on her, that one,” Han Solo smirked. “You don’t want to get on the wrong end of those, Dameron.”

Kes snorted in response. “I take it you have, then?”

“Nah, not me,” Solo said. “But I’ve seen the unlucky once.”

Jyn scowled. Cassian glanced between the pair, noting Solo’s smirk locked on Jyn. He wasn’t sure what to make of her reaction. In most situations, Jyn’s scowls would be right in line with her confrontational nature, but her reactions around Han had been far from normal. Whatever Solo was hinting at must be deeply personal.

Jyn had reassured him her history with Solo was nothing to worry about, but Cassian was becoming less and less sure with each interaction. Solo had such an effect on Jyn’s personality, a kind of change Cassian hadn’t seen since Jyn had confronted Saw Gerrera on their first mission to Jedha, that he couldn’t help but tense alongside Jyn every time the smuggler came near.

For now, he ran his hand over Jyn’s back and switched the topic of conversation, asking Bodhi about their progress during the day, in hopes of defusing the sudden tension that had come over the table. Later, he’d press Jyn for more answers.

“Are you ever going to tell me the story of you and Solo?” Cassian asked once they were back in their quarters for the evening. His voice was casual, but the memories his question evoked caused Jyn’s spine to straighten.

The torrential rainfall soaking her to the bone. The dust of the street slowly turning to mud beneath her. She needed to move, but forcing her aching joints forward required effort she didn’t have. She couldn’t think past her roaring stomach and broken arm.

She wanted the protection of the Partisans, wanted the warm fire in Saw’s tent and the comforting boom of his voice filling the room. She wanted her mother’s cooking and her father’s reassuring arms.

“Hey, kid,” someone called from above her. Jyn urged her heavy eyelids to open, to assess whether the unfamiliar male voice would be a threat. A human in his young twenties knelt next to her, most of his face blocked by a hood. Rain water ran off it in rivets, splashing onto Jyn. “Need a place to stay tonight?”

Jyn forced herself away from the memories to deflect Cassian’s question.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jyn said, shrugging on her sleep shirt and resisting the urge to wipe water from her arms when she did so. The memories are all in the past, she reminded herself. Nothing about them can hurt her now. “There’s not much to tell.”

“I stopped believing that a while ago, Jyn,” Cassian told her, arms crossed and leaning against the wardrobe Jyn shoved her parka into. “Every time Solo’s in the room…” His hands waved in the air, searching for the right word. “You’re just so different.”

Jyn glanced sideways at him. “I didn’t sleep with him, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Cassian shifted closer to her, reach out to touch her arm. Jyn forced herself not to flinch away from it and to meet his eyes. “Jyn, I wouldn’t care about that, but I care about you.” His eyes were intent on her face. “I know you say you trust him, but you don’t act like you do.”

“Solo’s fine,” Jyn insisted, her voice short.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem.”

“With the way you act around him?” Cassian raised his eyebrows. “It doesn’t seem like that at all.”

“It is,” Jyn hissed through her teeth. Her eyes flashed and she ripped her arm away from his hand. “Cassian, can’t you drop it?”

“No,” he shook his head, stepping closer to her as she backed away. “Because I need a reason to trust him and you cowering every time he walks into a room is not going to do it.”

“I do not cower,” Jyn scowled. The walls around her mind – the ones that kept her safe in the past, the ones Cassian had so painstakingly torn down since Scarif – growing, forcing distance between her and Cassian, though neither moved. She wanted to lash out at him, she wanted to yell and scream, she wanted to run.

“Exactly,” Cassian said, reaching out to place his hands on her shoulders, keeping her from moving away. “Jyn, you don’t cower. But you do around him, and I don’t want to picture what makes that your reaction.”

She understood, logically, why Cassian wanted the story. Han Solo was becoming an integral part of the Rebellion. If he had a history of assault or rape – thievery was practically guaranteed for anyone carrying the title of “smuggler,” but that was a lesser crime – then Han needed to be removed before he wormed his way to the center of the operation. But nothing of the story painted Han as a character the Rebellion wouldn’t want around. If anything, the story may make the smuggler even more attractive to the rebellion he’d adopted, would likely even make Princess Leia’s heart flutter, to hear of the selfless good deeds Han had undertaken for Jyn.

And since the story didn’t affect anyone else, didn’t hold the key to unlocking the mysterious Corellian, Jyn kept the story to herself.

Jyn had even wanted to tell Cassian the story behind her meeting the smuggler, on nights they were curled up together, but the words would die on her tongue every time she opened her mouth. Cassian had learned so much of her past and had told her so much of his. He never judged, never condemned, just listened and, in ways that most people never would be able to, understood.

But this story sounded too much like failure for Jyn. Murder, sabotage, robberies – those Jyn could forgive, because they were, at the time, necessary for survival. The story of how she met Han Solo was the exact opposite.

Jyn shook her head in response to Cassian. He sighed and dropped his hands from her shoulders, holding them up as he backed away. “Alright. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.”

“Cassian, I…” But Jyn didn’t know how to finish that statement. Watching him walk away – it was only to their bed, but it was still away – brought back the chill of Ord Mantell, made the sound of rain grow louder in her memory, obstructing reality and beginning to drown her.

“Jyn, it’s fine,” Cassian said, his voice calm as he pulled back the blankets on their bed, no doubt trying to give her space. “I trust your judgement. If you say Solo’s fine, then he’s fine.”

She nodded. She was relieved in the same way she always felt when Cassian said I trust you, but the story lodged in her throat. Protective instincts warred with the desire to share this with Cassian. Her brain screamed while her throat shut down the words trying to escape.

Cassian had climbed into bed by the time the words broke through her mouth. “We met on Ord Mantell.”

Cassian’s eyes shot to her face and, though he was clearly interested, his face neutral when he nodded for her to continue.

“I was sixteen. I’d only been on my own for a few weeks.” She shook her head slightly and laughed without humor. “Saw hadn’t thought to leave me with food or credits to buy any, and any I’d gotten from pawning my weapons was gone. I needed work, but most people didn’t seem to ready to take a scrawny sixteen-year-old without scan docs for any respectable job or on any smuggling missions. But I stumbled across an underground fighting ring. And, well, that I knew how to do.”

Cassian sat up at that but stayed quiet.

Bright lights and the boisterous cheers of the crowd flashed through Jyn’s memories. Fights were pure adrenalin – swift and brutal and bloody. All sorts of species, both sentient and non-sentient found their way into the arena. Learning to fight with the Partisans, whose numbers included more species from more planets than most met in a lifetime, gave Jyn a distinct advantage over others in the ring. But that didn’t give her a perfect record.

“I was good,” Jyn said, picking at her fingernails to ignore Cassian’s presence in the room, “and I quickly became a crowd favorite. Tiny girl against terrifying beasts meant horrible odds, so a lot of smugglers made some good money off my fights. Apparently Han Solo was one of them.”

She took a deep breath. “Management wanted to shake things up and put one of their prize fighters up against one of the natives.”

“You fought a Savrip?” Cassian interjected, his eyebrows shooting up at her words. Jyn wasn’t sure where he’d run into one of the brutes, but anyone who met one of the four-meter-tall reptiles rarely forgot its long arms and lethal claws.

“They’re not nearly as friendly as they are on a dejarik board, either.” Once again, Jyn laughed without humor. “They do a lot more damage when they’re not a hologram.”

Cassian stayed silent, eyes serious, waiting for her to continue. Surely he guessed where the story was going, but he needed Jyn to finish it. She walked over to the bed to sit next to him, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes. She heard Cassian shift, presumably to face her, but he didn’t reach out to touch her, as he had earlier. Jyn wasn’t sure if she was thankful or not.

“I was bleeding pretty badly after the fight. I don’t think my face was recognizable at all,” Jyn explained, skipping over the details of the fight itself, both because Cassian wouldn’t want to hear them and because the memories were fuzzy at best for her. “Had a broken arm, too.”

Jyn reached down to trace one of the scars cluttering her forearm, this one four thin red strips left from the Savrips’ claws. Only the winners were privy to medical treatment and a place to stay after the night of fights ended – with so many organics looking for a way to make some credits, no one questioned or cared if one staggered off into the night, bleeding and infected, to never return – so Jyn was thrown out of the building, onto a dark alleyway during one of the few rainstorms Ord Mantell saw during a year. She’d staggered away from the arena, gripping her wounds trying to stem the flow of blood, but she only made it a few blocks before she collapsed. Her food rations had been minimal in the days before the fight – Jyn had been ignoring how she could count her ribs – and now with her wounds begging to become infected, Jyn felt the world overwhelm her.

No one had been coming for her. No Partisan would apply primitive medical supplies and a shot of something strong to numb the pain around a meager fire. Her mother was not waiting with a comforting hand and a prayer to the Force to keep her safe. Not even a temporary partner waited for her in an agreed upon meeting point.

Jyn Erso was on her own.

“I didn’t make it too far from the arena,” Jyn told Cassian. “And I just … couldn’t make myself keep going.”

I curled into a ball and waited to die, she wanted to say. I’d shrunken from a warrior personally trained by Saw Gerrera to a useless coward who couldn’t fight for myself.

“That’s where Han found me.”

“Hey, kid. Need some place to stay tonight?”

Jyn didn’t trust him, didn’t want to follow him, but her stomach roared with hunger, her muscles were limp with fatigue and her vision swam from a concussion; when Han eased his hand under her shoulder to help her up and covered her with his jacket, she couldn’t do more than feebly push him away and the smuggler easily ignored that. She didn’t remember most of the journey, only small patches of images, but when she’d awoken, she’d been safely tucked under a blanket on a stationary ship, a ration bar and a canteen of water sitting next to the bench she was laying on while the Corellian and his Wookiee partner bantered in the cockpit.

“He took me back to the Falcon, pulled out some bacta patches and other supplies. He and Chewie let me stay for a few days. Put me in contact with a good splicer they knew and charted me off planet.” Jyn opened her eyes to glance at Cassian, who still watched her with a neutral expression. “Gave me what I needed to keep going. I never thought I’d see them again.”

Something about her journey with the odd pair of smugglers relit her fire. Not the fire that Saw had instilled in her – a hatred of the Empire so strong it fought Stormtroopers and attacked military bases – but a different, more necessary fire she had lost while she still fought alongside the Partisans: the ability to fight for herself, her need to live. Seeing the smuggler and his Wookiee, reckless vagabonds who fought for no cause other than themselves and their next paycheck but had still stopped to heal a bleeding nobody on a backwater planet, reminded her prioritizing her survival – a lesson Saw never taught her – wasn’t an unforgivable offense. It might even be something to be embraced.

She paused for a moment, pulling herself out of the story and back into the dark room on Echo Base. “Command doesn’t need to know this story,” Jyn reminded Cassian, her voice full of steel.

Cassian nodded and his face turned apologetic. “Just—the way you reacted to him, Jyn. I expected that story to be very different.”

“Yeah,” Jyn said, easing her eyes closed and leaning back against the wall again. “It’s just not a time I’m proud of. I was caught off guard when he showed up here.”

“I understand. I won’t bring it up again,” Cassian promised her.

“Thank you.”

They were silent for a moment. Jyn shifted over, closer to Cassian, resting her head against his chest. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling tight.

“One last question,” Cassian said, his chest vibrating under her ear.

“Yeah?” Jyn asked, hesitant.

“Why did Solo decide to help you? Why not leave you there and forget about you?”

When Jyn laughed this time, it was with honest humor over the memory of Han’s explanation when she had asked the same question. “He said he owed me. The winnings he got from betting on one of my fights paid off the money he owed for the Falcon."

“I don’t like being in debt, kid, so consider yourself thankful you beat that Mandalorian that day.”

The ceiling of the hastily constructed hallways of Echo Base trembled under the weight of the Imperial Walkers crossing the plain overhead and rebels pushed past Cassian – going the correct way, Kay would tell him, towards the hanger, towards the transports that would carry them to safety or else to fight on the front lines as their orders commanded them, but Cassian needed to find Jyn. If this battled turned deadly, if he didn’t get another chance to see her –

He let that thought end there. They’d faced impossible odds before and come out breathing. He won’t consider the other other option, not while he needed to focus.

“Jyn!” Cassian cried as he entered the command center and spotted Jyn standing at Princess Leia’s shoulder, watching one of the transports blast into hyperspace on a monitor. She turned, the hood of her parka swishing behind her with the hurried movement, when he called his name.

But where Cassian’s heart filled with relief at the sight of her – she’s in the control room, not on the front lines. She’s with the Princess, she’ll be safe – Jyn’s eyes tightened at the sight of him and her lips pursed into a thin line, a sure sign of her lethal anger.

“Your transport is scheduled to depart in a few minutes, Captain, and the Alliance needs you on it,” Jyn informed him, the message short and clipped.

He shook his head as she spoke, moving closer to her. “I needed to see you,” he said and reached out to grab the sleeve of her jacket, keeping her close to him. “I needed to say good-bye.”

Princess Leia glanced at their pair, a slight smirk on her lips, her eyes turning back to the screen as quickly as they had turned to Cassian and Jyn. Cassian knew he had moments – several generals remained in the room, generals who knew Draven’s orders for him and would command him off base as soon as they realized he was here – but seeing Jyn’s face made it worth it.

“Kay won’t leave without me,” he assured her, lowering his voice so only they could hear (not that too many of the panicked rebels in the room were overly concerned with them). “Where’s your transport?”

Jyn inclined her head in Leia’s direction. “I’m at the Princess’s discretion. Where she goes, I follow.”

Cassian didn’t find that overly reassuring (the woman who went rogue to steal the plans to the Death Star and the woman who dared to sass Darth Vader to his face, working together?) until Han Solo stepped into the room and up to the Princess. Inevitably, despite the imminent death and destruction of everything the rebels had worked so hard to build, the pair began bickering – this time about how long they could stay on base. For a moment, Jyn’s attention pulled away from Cassian as she rolled her eyes at the couple.

“I’ll get away,” she assured him, meeting his eyes again. “Even if the princess misses her transport, Han will get us off planet.” She turned towards the smuggler, a challenge in her voice. “If that old ship of yours is up to the task, Solo?”

Han crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. “Are you honestly questioning the Falcon, Erso? Maybe I won’t let you aboard after all.”

Jyn rolled her eyes and turned back to Cassian. Her expression melted in a moment of rare openness. “I trust him.”

Cassian thought back to all the interactions he’d seen between Jyn and Han over the years – how her demeanor had changed from terrified into trusting – and of the story she’d told him – how Han had saved her life before.

Han looked up at him, a serious expression on his face. “She’ll be safe on board the Falcon.”

Cassian gave him a nod. “Thank you.”

“Now go,” Jyn said, giving him a small shove towards the door. “Get away from the Imperials. We’ll meet you at the rendezvous spot.”

“You better.”

Without glancing around the room to take note of any superior officers who might disapprove and ignoring Han’s suggestive whistle, Cassian leaned into kiss Jyn, hard. Just in case.

#therebelcaptainnetwork #rebelcaptainficrecs #rogue one fanfiction #jyn erso #han solo #cassian andor #rebelcaptain #kat writes #im missing k2 here #he'll show up later #i promise

[senatorrorgana]

hot blooded

rating: t

a/n: this is for @rebelcaptainprompts with their prompts of “warmth”! hopefully you guys will like this short little thing, i felt like writing something cute and fluffly! 

Naboo was an odd place, Jyn had decided; everything was too peaceful most of the time, save for the few encounters she had while on her mission with Cassian. The oddest thing about the planet was its temperatures - during the day it was beautiful, it was warm but not too warm, especially out by the rivers and waterfalls where there were no buildings to break the wind; but at night it was a different story. At night it was cold, the temperatures dropped and the buildings let go of their heat under the pale, cold starlight; needless to say it was too cold for Jyn to sleep by herself, causing her more often than not to sleep with Cassian, though it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary at this point.

On Hoth he was the perfect bed warmer, he said it was because he was hot blooded or something like that with a smirk whenever she asked, Jyn didn’t care what it was - he was warm and she loved being able to hold him so close. She’d always get the best night's sleep when Cassian was there with her on Hoth, or whenever they had to travel to other cold planets together for missions. Naboo was not one of those planets; while it was cold at night and far too cold for Jyn to warm up a bed by herself, Cassian was too warm. She’d spend half the night tossing and turning, kicking blankets off and pulling them on, even shedding a few layers of clothes which Cassian didn’t mind at all when he’d wrap his arm around her at night and be greeted with the soft skin of her abdomen. Tomorrow they were supposed to be on guard duty to protect the Queen, there were rumors of Imperial TIE Fighters close by and they couldn’t take the risk of leaving the Queen unguarded; but Jyn would be far from alert if she didn’t get some sleep tonight.

“You’re too warm.” Jyn pushed Cassian’s arm off of her.

She could feel the mattress rumble a bit beneath her, indicating Cassian’s silent laughter before he spoke. “I told you, I’m hot blooded.”

“Keep your hot blood to yourself,” she grumbled, “I need some sleep.”

“Sounds like you’re wound up.” he yawned, resting his hand on Jyn’s waist again while rubbing a pattern of small circles into her skin.

Jyn rolled over in his embrace while Cassian resumed the pattern on her other hip now. “Oh no, I know you.”

“I’m not doing anything.” Cassian laughed.

“Mhmm.” Jyn replied with a knowing smirk.

“I swear, I’m just trying to help you relax, what would you like me to do?” he asked her gently.

Jyn wasn’t used to being asked such a sincere and delicate question, despite having been with Cassian for a few months now and having him do this on multiple occasions, she still wasn’t used to having someone genuinely care.

With a heavy sigh, Jyn let all her muscles relax and just melt under Cassian’s touch. “Just keep doing this I guess, it’s relaxing.”

“Whatever you want.” Cassian mumbled his reply, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.

It should have been relaxing, or at least Jyn had hoped it would be; Cassian was humming some sweet tune that came from his homeworld that she heard on multiple occasions from him, his touch was just right, and the pattern was hypnotizing enough to fall asleep too - but she wasn’t.

“Kriff.” Jyn hissed under her breath.

“Still not sleeping?” Cassian asked, opening his eyes again to study the frustrated expression on her face.

“No.” she huffed.

Cassian’s smile lit up the darkened room as he leaned in and started peppering her face with kisses. “Want me to try something else?” he mumbled against her jawline.

Jyn couldn’t help but smile in return and attempt to stifle some laughter, “You’re terrible.”

“I’m just taking advantage of our time away from the base,” he replied, “with all their gossip, and without Kay hovering over us all the time.”

“I get your point.” Jyn replied, her hands tangling themselves in his hair.

“And?” Cassian questioned with a mischievous grin.

Jyn pulled him down to meet her lips, kissing him slowly to savor every second of their time together until she pulled away with a smile on her lips. “Alright.”

“Alright what?” Cassian asked, confused about the situation just a bit though he’d never admit it.

Jyn grabbed ahold of one of his hands, guiding it to skim down her waist until he reached the waistband of her sleep shorts. “I think you’ll figure it out from here.”

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptainprompts #therebelcaptainnetwork #rebelcaptainficrecs #rogue one #my writing #jyn erso #cassian andor

[therebelcaptainnetwork]

Hello RebelCaptain Fans!

We are continuing with monthly prompts, to serve as extra inspiration for making RebelCaptain fanworks! July’s prompt is:

                                           “Hidden”

How it Works:

Prompts will release on the 2nd of each month.

You can do any type of fanwork for it—so long as it fits the prompt!

Completed prompts will be compiled into a monthly masterpost

Please be sure to tag #therebelcaptainnetwork in one of the first five tags when fulfilling a prompt, and please include #may prompt somewhere in your tag list so that we can tag your works appropriately.

As always, please message us with any comments, questions or concerns

#rebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #dailyrebelcaptain #rebelcaptainficrec #admin: monthly prompts #prompts: july

[halflunar]

the softening blows / complete

AU. cassian and jyn meet at a halloween party. read on ao3

There are things Cassian will always remember--the click and flash of a disposable camera, silver balloons, and string lights. He’ll always remember moving in slow motion, the heaviness and blurriness of being alive that night, the way her hand gripped his as they ran through the intersection. Green lights, green lights, blue smoke and the damp pavement. All of it--a dream.

#rebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #rebelcaptainficrec #idk what to tag this! #i can't believe i finished!!! #if you could reblog this it would mean so much to me!!!

[ninelabeledkeys]

Too Close -rosaxx50 on AO3

http://archiveofourown.org/works/10231292

this one positively sparkles

#RebelCaptain #rebelcaptainficrec #jyn erso #cassian andor

[rebelcaptainficrecs]

LOOKING FOR MEMBERS!

Apply here to join our blog! We’re looking for people who read a lot of rebelcaptain fanfiction and can reblog content from the #rebelcaptain fanfiction and #rebelcaptainficrecs tag to keep the blog up to date!

#therebelcaptainnetwork #rebelcaptainedit #rebelcaptain #itsphotoshop #rebelcaptain fanfiction #admins post

[jynappreciationsquad]

The River

When I was a child, I grew up by the river Lea there was something in the water and now that something’s in me

- River Lea by Adele

On Lah’mu, some distance from their homestead, there was a river running through a gorge between the hills. The air over it was misty despite the clear day and strange trees grew on the river banks, with twisted trunks and craggy, black bark, swallowing the sunlight and casting the space by the water into semi-darkness. The water looked odd, too; there were dark swirls like liquid smoke that drew intricate patterns onto the muddy river bed. But the thing she remembered most vividly afterwards was the smell that hung in the air, sweet like dying flowers.

Jyn found it when she was six, chasing after a small animal she had seen in the fields. It disappeared just as she caught a glimpse of the river, but she forgot about it immediately, drawn in by the hypnotic swirls of mist above the water. In the luscious landscape of Lah’mu that was so rich with colour, it was unnerving to see a place so devoid of it. She felt drawn to it despite that, or maybe because of it, even though the smell and the strange and sudden quiet lay heavy on her chest. It felt like a forbidden place, where something bad had happened, but that just made it more curious to her.

She had climbed down the flank of the hill to touch the surface of the water, when papa called after her, branches snapping noisily underneath his feet as he scrambled down to the water.

“What did we say about touching things we do not know?”

His voice was soft as ever, but as he drew closer and took in the view, there was a glint of something in his eyes, as though he recognised this place.

“What are you doing here, Jyn?”

“I saw an animal,” she answered absent-mindedly, stepping closer towards the river. “Why is the water looking so weird, papa?”

He drew closer and placed a hand on her shoulder, eyes still fixed on the swirling dark water.

“I don’t know, stardust,” he said very quietly. “Probably a mineral in the ground. Maybe your mother will know.”

“Do you think it’s dangerous?” Jyn inquired, filled with more morbid fascination than fear.

“Perhaps. I think we should leave, Jyn,” papa said quietly, his hand tightening on her shoulder. “Come on now.”

Papa forbade her to go back, even though mama said the water was probably not dangerous unless you drank it. But sometimes, when she hugged him goodnight after a long day, she found the smell of the river clinging to his clothes, and he had that same strange look in his eyes that he had when they’d been by the water, as though the steams rising from the surface had seeped into his head and taken a hold there.

 Sometimes, she would dream of the river – no dramatic nightmares, no monsters, though. Just the deep, morbid melancholy and the sickly sweet smell, and the deafening silence.

And she was always, always alone.

But mostly, she remembered it when the feeling came on its own – she grew gloomy and apathetic when she was left to her thoughts for too long. It wasn’t much of a problem while she was with Saw; he and his men kept her busy, and busy was good, even if it meant throwing grenades. It got worse when she was on her own, when she hid away in dark corners for days on end, sadness creeping through her veins like the mist above the water, spreading further and further.

It was only then that she realised it wasn’t the view her father had recognised, back on the riverbank, but the feeling. That he’d felt like this, too, and that was why he’d gone back so many times. Felt the itch to just walk into the water, just float away –

It was in her blood, then. Maybe that was why the stream had called to her as it did. Then again, she had always wondered if the water they had drunk came from the same spring as the river, and if it did, what drinking it might have done to them. Eventually, she found it was easier to see it that way, that there’d been something in the water that made her this way, because then it might go away again, someday.

She hoped it would, but the memory haunted her, and after Scarif when she sat curled up on her bed in the middle of the night, listening to the others’ faint breathing, the sweet smell hung in her nose, and she almost mistook the bubbling of the bacta tank for the whispering of the river.

What if the others didn’t make it, and she’d never see them again? Or worse, what if they did, and they didn’t care to?

What if they saw her for what she was, now that it was over; what if they realised that she wasn’t what the rebels said she was, that she wasn’t strong, that she wasn’t… a hero?

When would someone tell her that she had served her purpose, outstayed her welcome –

She should leave, before that happened.

Gently, she swung her feet off the bed and felt for her gloves on the nightstand in the dark, the smell growing stronger in her nose. She tried to ignore it. Her left hand found the crystal around her neck (still there), then her fingers closed around the gloves and she slowly got to her feet, a small hiss of pain escaping her despite her best effort.

“Jyn?”

She pressed her eyes shut. Kriff. She hadn’t even noticed that he’d woken up.

The sheets ruffled as he tried awkwardly to push himself up onto his elbows, teeth gritted in pain.

“Don’t –“ she whispered, making a few involuntary steps towards him. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

His dark eyes locked with hers. “You’re leaving.”

She wanted to say it was none of his business, wanted to lie and tell him to go back to sleep, wanted –

She didn’t find an answer, so she said nothing.

His eyes flickered over her face, searching. “We need people like you, Jyn.”

She scoffed. “I’m not the kind of person you need. There’s something wrong with me.” He opened his mouth to argue, but she shook her head, cut him off. “You’ll find out. I’m not… whatever you’re seeing, when you look at me like that, I’m not that person, and I’ll disappoint you, and I’m... I’m sorry.”

“I think I see you just fine,” he said quietly, after a moment.

“We hardly know each other,” she bit back, which was true, but felt like a cold, awful thing to say, and she could see hurt flicker across his features as soon as it was out, and something in her faltered.

“I didn’t –“

He shook his head, just slightly, and she fell silent.

“You heard them earlier,” he said after a while. “About your father.”

“They were right.”

“Jyn, that’s not –“

“There was something wrong with my father, and I have it too, and he was strong enough to fight it and he didn’t give up but what if I do?” The words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them. She took a deep breath and resumed, a little calmer: “I’m a liability. You don’t need me.”

“There’s something wrong with all of us, Jyn,” he said softly.

“I –“

“Stay,” he said abruptly. “Please.”

“I –“

“Just – just for a while.”

She tried to make out his face in the darkness, but couldn’t see it clearly. “Why?”

“Because you’re wrong. You’re stronger than your father. And I –“ His voice caught, in pain perhaps. “I don’t know if I’d give up,” he added, very quietly. “If you left.”

She hesitated, and he saw it.

“Just… Don’t go now,” he said gently. “At least wait until you’re better. Get a little rest.”

She sighed, then nodded, and he smiled a little.

“Fine. Until we’re better,” she repeated softly and tapped back to her bed. She could wait a few more days, maybe even a few more weeks. It wasn’t like she had anywhere to go.

(She didn’t dream of the river again. Not for a few nights, anyway.)

#rogue one #jyn erso #rebelcaptainficrecs #therebelcaptainnetwork #other: galen erso #other: cassian andor #by: ruby red inky blue #fanfiction #ours

[rebelcaptainprompts]

I really love modern au rebelcaptain stories! But I feel as if I've read most of them. Do you have any you'd recommend? A small list perhaps?

We love them too!  

That said, we aren’t in the habit of making rec lists (aside from the fics people write specifically for our prompts).  Perhaps try asking this question of @operaticspacetrash, @rebelcaptainficrecs, and/or @mosylufanfic?  They’re pretty on on top of the best of what’s out there.  I know there are other blogs that do a lot of fic recc’ing but they’re escaping me at the moment -- so if anyone has other suggestions please leave them in the comments to this post. :D

#rebelcaptain #ask rebelcaptainprompts #Anonymous

[jynandcassianlive]

Desperation--- Jyn x Cassian

I thought I'd attempt some rebelcaptain fan fiction. It's probably really bad but I tried. I hope you like it. :) ----------------------------------------------- Jyn had known that they were on a suicide mission but she hadn’t wanted to believe it. Even as she fought side by side with Cassian and surged forward through the battle, she had felt as if they had a chance to survive. Her survival instincts had kicked in as she and Cassian climbed through the vault of files, looking for the Death Star master plan. And when she stood, facing her enemy she had still clung to the hope that she would win. That they would survive. Now she could not hope any longer. She knelt on the shore, watching as the Death Star rose over the horizon. Disbelief washed over her. There must be something she could do to survive, to make it out alive. But she knew it was hopeless. She was too tired to cry, but her body shook with dry sobs. Two hands slid around her. She looked up into the face of Cassian Andor. 
“It’s going to be ok,” he whispered. 
Jyn shook her head. 
“It’s over. There is nothing left.”
Cassian smiled down at her, his dark eyes washing her with emotion. 
“It’s not over yet,” he murmured and leaned down towards her. 
Jyn wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face towards hers. At first, she only brushed her lips against his, but as the horizon disappeared into rubble, she pulled him closer in desperation. She tried to show him everything that she’d wanted to say through her desperate kiss. She tried to make him understand that she loved him and would never let him go. Cassian pulled her closer to him as they were engulfed in the rubble and the horizon washed over them. 
————————— Jyn awoke in a cold sweat. Her body was shaking. Her hands were clutched together in desperation. She shook her head and looked around her. She was lying on a bed in a cold prison cell, looking across at the inmate in the other bed. She was still in the imperial prison, working for nothing, living without hope. She tried to remember her golden fantasy from the night before. She sighed. It had only been a dream.

#jyn x cassian #jyn erso #cassian andor #rebelcaptainfanfiction #rebelcaptainficrec #rebelcaptain

[rxbxlcaptain]

rebelcaptain, in the dark kiss, please?

I’m so sorry I’m behind in answering the last few of these! If I haven’t gotten to yours, I will, pinky promise!

This somehow also turned into a first kiss fic… It picks up rightafter Bodhi saved Jyn and Cassian from the beach on Scarif, with Baze, Chirrut and K-2SO conveniently already on board (that’s whathappened in my version of the movie, I don’t know about yours)

In The Dark Kiss:

“Everyone, strap in!” Bodhi yelled from the cockpit of theImperial cargo shuttle, his voice distraught, reminding Jyn of Cassian’sfrantic tone while escaping Jedha. Once again, the destructive power of theDeath Star rose behind them, engulfing the white sand beaches of Scarif andreducing the data tower to mere scrap behind them. As they cleared atmo, a StarDestroyer had risen behind them, pulling the escaping Rogue One squadron out oftheir attempted jump from realspace and caught them in their tractor beam.

Bodhi and K-2SO were fighting the pull, attempting evasivemaneuvers, but if ships much larger and better equipped than their smalltransport fell prey to these destroyers, there was little chance for theirescape. 

From her seat in the cargo deck, Jyn heard Bodhi, who had escapedthe battle with only minor burns, slam his hand against the controls infrustration. K-2 echoed her pessimistic thoughts, citing high probabilities ofthe Imperials gaining control of their ship; Chirrut muttered his prayers,quick and succinct with Baze, a large gash on his arm still oozing blood,silent beside him; and Cassian, whose unfocused eyes and limp hands suggestedhe was on the verge of unconsciousness, slumped into her side.  

Jyn thought of the plans she’d transmitted minutes before and theessential data they carried. She wanted to believe some Alliance ship had foundthem, as she’d assured Cassian in the tower, but until she was certain theywere in safe hands, until she was certain she had completed her father’smission, her fight was not finished. 

With gentle hands – something she’d forgotten she possessed overthe years on her own – she eased Cassian away from her shoulder,whispering, “Stay awake,” before climbing into the cockpit, her injuredshoulder screaming in protest. 

“Bodhi,” she said quietly as she reached the two members oftheir team still donning Imperial colors. “Is there any chance you can getaway?”

“I calculate the odds being less than one percent,” Kay, ratherthan Bodhi, responded, not even attempting to keep his voice down. 

Looking out the viewport, Kay’s ominous prediction seemed evenmore accurate. The stark white of the Star Destroyer steadily covered theirview, masking the dark expanse of sky and draining their opportunities toescape.

Bodhi’s wide eyes met hers, though his hands still fiddled withthe controls. “We c-can’t give up, Jyn. Not after everything.”

His scars, his stutter, his uniform: “everything” for Bodhimeant something very different than it did for Jyn, and that made it all themore worth fighting for. 

“This is one of their ships,”Jyn reminded Bodhi, “And no one’s been shooting at us, so they don’t know we’rerebels.” She nodded at the flight suit Bodhi still wore. “Hide us, followprotocol and you could pass as Imperials.”

“The charges for desertion –which they just caught us doing – are as bad as the charges for rebellion, Jyn.”Bodhi shook his head. “That’s asking to get shot.”

“The chances of getting shotif they knew we stole the plans to that battle station are pretty assured,” Jynsnapped. “And we only have a few minutes before we have a boarding partyscouring this ship.”

Bodhi hesitated for a moment,his mouth opening and closing a few times like he wanted to speak, but couldn’tfind the words. Above them, the sound of durasteel hitting durasteel shook theship. Icy fingers of panic ran down Jyn’s spine: They were in the clutches ofthe Empire now.

Bodhi, his eyes alight withnew determination, nodded and took a deep breath, centering himself.

“There should be at least twocovered storage zones on the ship in the cargo bay,” he told her. “But that’llbe the first place they’ll look for stowaways.”

Jyn pulled the blaster – Cassian’sblaster – out from her holster. “We’ll deal with that problem if –“ she ignoredKay correcting her to when “— they findus.”

Bodhi nodded, his face stillapprehensive about the idea. Jyn gave him half a smile, the best she could doat the moment, before dropping back down the ladder to explain the plan toCassian and the Guardians. Baze and Chirrut stood to hide, but Cassian, hisfeatures contorted in pain, stayed in his seat.

“Cassian,” Jyn prodded him, “Weneed to move.”

“Jyn…” His voice came outstrained, his accent heavier than normal. “I—“

“Don’t you dare,” Jyn growled,hauling his arm around her shoulders, ignoring the sting of pain that caused,and pulled him to his feet. Cassian stumbled forward, leaning heavily on her.The lights flickered above their head and the shuttle was secured underneaththe Star Destroyer and Jyn was back in the turbolift – she’d never left Scarif;the beach with its glowing horizon still awaited her; Bodhi’s ship was nowhereto be found –

“Jyn.” Her name almostsounded like a cough coming from Cassian.

And as the lights shut offaround them, Jyn knew how to make this scenario feel different from the turbolift.With careful fingers, she reached up to cusp Cassian’s cheeks and stood on hertiptoes to bring her face level with his. Before he could speak, Jyn pressedher lips to his, just for a second.

“Are you with me?” Shewhispered into the darkness, Cassian’s face still between her hands.

“All the way,” he assured herand, together, they moved into hiding, ready to take the next chance.

#kat writes #therebelcaptainnetwork #dailyrebelcaptain #rebelcaptainficrec #rogue one #rebelcaptain #the crew #And I'm leaving this ending open and ambiguous #though they totally beat their way out of Imperial hold (again) (because I said so) #lalala i cant hear your canon #kiss fics

[senatorrorgana]

Undisclosed Desires - One

a/n: i've been training for this my whole life, if years of watching true blood and underworld have taught me anything about vampires, it better pay off now. buffy too of course, who could forget throwing in some buffy references since, well, jyn is a slayer in this au, just a different kind from what buffy was. hopefully all my supernatural knowledge will pay off here and you guys will like this fic.

p.s. a little too much of true blood might have leaked into this cause, uh, yeah, this is smutty.

rating: m

ao3: (x)

           Cassian fucked up, he’d spent years trying to keep this from happening again, and in a matter of minutes, he fucked up.

             He shouldn’t have gone as long as he had without drinking, if he hadn’t let his emotions get the better of him and he ate when he was supposed to, he probably wouldn’t be in this mess. If Cassian had done what he knew he should have, he wouldn’t be left with the dead body of some random girl he’d met in her apartment, her blood staining hips lips and the golden sheets of her bed. Every slayer within a hundred-mile radius would be swarming to this, itching to drive a stake through his heart for breaking the treaty and another bloodsuckers mess to clean up.

           Cassian knew it was the frenzy setting in, but he had to run, he had to get out of here and place himself somewhere else where he could be seen, preferably on the other side of town away from this mess. He knew there was one place he could hide, an underground club downtown that made as a safe haven for slayer law abiding vampires, where as long as they didn’t kill, they were allowed to have willing humans enter and offer up a drink. That was where he should have gone instead of some human bar where this beautiful, now dead, girl was all over him and three sheets to the wind; she didn’t even taste that good really – her blood tasted more like the shots of tequila she’d taken that night instead of actual blood.

             Knowing he couldn’t linger any longer, someone bound to find this girl eventually, Cassian left as quickly as he could, praying that he wouldn’t get caught.

                Jyn was doing something incredibly stupid, she knew from the moment she slipped this black dress on and walked into this bar that she wasn’t thinking about the repercussions that could come from there. She’d been a slayer all her life, she knew the rules like the back of her hand, but it was the fact that she didn’t know any other life but the life of a slayer that drove her to this curiosity she had bubbling up inside of her. Slayers were technically allowed to enter these vampire hot spots of feeding clubs, though when they were there it was on the clock, ensuring that none of the humans present died and if they did, they were there to end that vampire without question; vampires avoided the slayers like the plague when they were there, but tonight…Jyn wasn’t technically here on the job.

             She hadn’t been assigned to this feeding ground ever before, none of them would likely know her face, especially dressed the way she was in her black halter top dress that hugged every small curve she had, showing off more skin than she was ever allowed to – especially around her neck and the short hem of the dress showing off her bare thighs. Everything about her screamed ‘come bite me!’, even tying her hair up for good measure to really draw someone in. Jyn convinced herself that she was doing this as an experiment; she’d found enough dazed blood bags in her lifetime to piece together a picture of what it was like to be bitten, and she couldn’t deny it made her curious.

             Most of them described it as something euphoric, a real turn on in some cases; others described it as taking a hit of a drug, of everything going hazy and their muscles relaxing, keeping them calm for days afterwards until they needed another bite to function. Either way, after so many bites, especially if they got bitten from multiple different vampires, they had to be detoxed – the toxins from the vampires would build up in the humans’ blood, causing their blood not only to taste terrible, but partially turn them into vampires themselves, though it wasn’t anything a few days of lockup, sunshine, and fresh air couldn’t fix to get the bad blood out of their system. Despite the consequences, Jyn wanted to know what it was like for herself, all she needed was one vampire who didn’t know who she was to walk up to her and take her in the back for a bite.

             She hadn’t been sitting there long, maybe a half hour tops, working on her second glass of red wine when some guy took a seat beside her. He was one of them without a doubt, his cold hand brushing up against hers on the bar, and his hands trying to hold back a bit of a shake, something that told Jyn he was hungry and was pushing the limits of how far he could go until realizing he couldn’t. It would be for the best if it was her that he picked, most humans didn’t know how to handle a vampire on the edge of a frenzy, Jyn could handle herself if something went wrong; she convinced herself that was what made her turn to face him, leaning into his personal space just a bit, not that she found him attractive – certainly not that.

             “Rough night?” Jyn asked, breaking the ice between them while one of her legs brushed up against his, seduction had been one of the techniques of hunting she had been taught, especially when trying to approach a rouge vampire, seduction was always the best bet to get in close before striking.

             She caught his attention right away, his deep brown eyes resting on her, tracing over every curve of her and taking her in. Jyn kept her heart rate in check, not letting herself get too excited at him actually noticing her and seeming to take an interest; she thought she’d have to try a few times before finding one, but hungry vampires were almost always a safe bet.

             “You have no idea.” He smirked when his eyes returned to hers, clearly deciding that he liked what he saw as he turned to face her, sending out that familiar silent message to everyone else around them that she was going to be his meal tonight. “What’s your name?”

             “Jyn.” She bravely announced, she should have given an alias if she was thinking, but some part of her wanted to hear how her name fell from his lips with that accent of his. “Yours?”

             His hands grazed up her arm, the cold sending a chill down Jyn’s spine yet causing warmth to pool up inside of her. “Cassian.”

             “Is this the part where you ask me if I come here often?” Jyn asked with a grin.

             A soft laugh escaped his lips, leaning in closer to her personal space and practically setting Jyn’s skin on fire knowing how dangerously close he was to her. “Now why would I do that? A smart girl like you doesn’t need her time wasted, especially when she seems to know what she wants.”

             Jyn bit down on her lower lip to hold back a smile, he was damn good at getting what he wanted with charm like that. Clearly seeing that Cassian seemed to like women who took some charge, she let one of her hands rest on his thigh and slowly inch up, feeling his muscles tense as if he were ready to pounce. “If you know what I want then why are we still sitting up here when we could be in the back?”

             She swore she heard a low growl come from him then, he was completely and utterly entranced with her then, the though giving Jyn a rush of satisfaction. Without a word, Cassian got to his feet, holding out his hand for Jyn to take before leading her to the back of the place. Jyn was more than grateful that only vampires had to sign in whenever they were taking someone to the back for a drink, she wouldn’t want her name anywhere on those registries to be so easily traced.

             The rooms in the back were completely private, closed off sections where they could feed in peace since it’d been proven more than once that vampires feeding in an overstimulated environment were far more prone to killing their donors than when they were isolated. Jyn had seen the inside of these rooms more than once; they were like isolated and lavish hotel rooms that were kept maintained by the staff of the club, cleaned out every time someone left. The beds were made to look utterly inviting, everything plush and covered in the finest of everything under the dim lighting of the room that had been decorated in reds and golds. Jyn should have felt something like doubt when Cassian shut the door behind them, something to reconsider what she was doing – but she didn’t.

             Sex wasn’t necessary to feeding, it was something Jyn heard happened sometimes, especially if there was an attraction on the vampires’ end. She could have laid down the rules then and there that she didn’t want sex to be part of the equation, but god she couldn’t help herself with the way he was looking at her, his hands grazing over her hips and down to her thighs before scooping her up and setting her down in the middle of the bed, crawling on top of her in an instant.

             His lips were on her neck in an instant, kissing up the pulse point until he reached her lips, his hands skirting under her dress and taking in her soft, bare skin. Vampires were takers by nature, they didn’t ask when they wanted something, and agreeing to go to the back with him was more than an open invitation that she knew the risks of. His lips traveled back to her neck and the only warning she had was of his teeth grazing against her skin before fangs sunk in with a jolt of pain. It was uncomfortable for the first few moments, Jyn wondering if the delusions of ecstasy were just that, but then everything felt warm, her muscles relaxed, and a moan slipped from her lips as her back arched up off the bed to get closer to him, needing him more than anything else in the world in that moment.

             He pulled away too soon, leaving Jyn to wonder if she did something wrong while he kissed away the blood on her neck. Cassian’s eyes locked with hers, a smile on his lips along with a spot of what was surely her blood.

             “Did I – “

             Before Jyn could finish what she wanted to ask, Cassian’s lips crashed down on hers, the iron from her blood lingering on her lips now and only causing Cassian to deepen the kiss. His hands hiked her legs up around his waist, giving her plenty of reason to start causing friction, though from what she could tell he didn’t need it and it was certainly more for her pleasure at this point.

             Cassian finally parted from her lips, breathless and smiling though he’d clearly mastered the art of hiding his fangs when in the midst of entanglements like these, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t the least bit curious. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong, you just taste so good, I have to control myself.”

             It shouldn’t have turned her on as much as it should, but goddamn did it. “I can handle it.” She dared him, something dark flashing across his eyes, a look of hunger mixed with lust.

             The time for talking had clearly passed, his hands shooting up around her neck to untie the top part of her dress before skimming down her bare back to reach the zipper for the rest of the dress. That was undone in a second, and Jyn could tell he was just itching to get her out of it, she knew she could have a little bit of fun with it.

             “You’re wearing far too many clothes.” Jyn’s voice was breathy as she tugged at his dress shirt, undoing some of the buttons as quickly as she could. “You first, then me.” She bargained.

             “Anything you want.” He replied.

             In seconds, he complied to her request and got out of his shirt, his pants following suit until he was down to just his boxers, Jyn letting her hands wander and enjoy the contact of his skin against hers. Without hesitation, Cassian pulled Jyn’s dress down off of her, casting it to the side the be forgotten while his lips explored all the new bare skin before him. Most things were caught up in a haze after that, his kisses setting her skin on fire, his hand somehow weaving its way into her lacey underwear and taking his time with her, fingers sliding in and out until she came undone before him, more of Cassian’s kisses pressed against her skin as he traveled down her body until he reached the waistband of her now soaked underwear. Jyn wanted to try and take some sort of control over the situation, but before she could even muster up the strength to form words, Cassian had her underwear off and cast aside with her dress, his mouth taking over where his fingers had left off and leaving Jyn utterly breathless.

             She clawed at whatever she could reach, that just so happened to be Cassian’s hair, holding on to him and digging her nails into his scalp, if he hadn’t been moaning into her she would have thought she might have been hurting him. Needless to say, by the time Cassian had her falling apart with pleasure again, Jyn was more than glad that these rooms were sound proofed, at least to the other rooms around them. Jyn couldn’t help but moan in protest as he gave his last few long licks to her core, he made her feel far too good and he was clearly enjoying it.

             He gave her more warning than the last time, his eyes flickering up to meet hers as he pressed kisses to the delicate skin on the inside of her thigh, the one leg he was working on hiked over his shoulder to better get at her. She nodded, she didn’t need too, he could have easily just taken what he wanted either way, but he took it as an okay and bit into her, this time the pain not as awful as it had been the first time and far more pleasurable. Jyn let out small breathy moans every time he let his hand wander somewhere on her body while the other was kept firmly under her thigh.

             “Cassian,” she spoke up, “I don’t feel good.”

             The lightheaded feeling was washing over her and she knew that was a sign of him needing to stop. For a moment, she was worried he wouldn’t, but he pulled away, kissing her wound until the toxins kicked in and healed it up quickly.

             “Are you okay?” his hands went up to cup her face as he crawled back over her. ‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

             She nodded, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand. “I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me.”

             Jyn hooked her fingers under the waistband of his boxers, inching them down slowly until he got the message of what she wanted next. Cassian took his time to slowly line himself up and sink inside of her, her arms wrapping around his neck and pressing kisses to him wherever she could reach while he took his time making her moan. She wasn’t sure exactly how long they were in there, hours easily with how long he was able to stretch her pleasure out until she got on top of him and returned the favor. She should have felt horrible for what she’d done, she should have felt like she was betraying someone somewhere along the line with every act she conducted with Cassian – but she didn’t. In fact she felt free for the first time in her life, and while he might only play around with her for a few more days until he gets a taste of something different, Jyn thought that she wouldn’t mind having him in her bed every night for a few days, especially if he kept making her feel like this.

#rebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #rebelcaptainficrecs #my writing #rogue one #jyn erso #cassian andor

[therebelcaptainnetwork]

Hello RebelCaptain Fans!

We are continuing with monthly prompts, to serve as extra inspiration for making RebelCaptain fanworks! June’s prompt is:

                                            “Risk”

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#rebelcaptain #therebelcaptainnetwork #dailyrebelcaptain #rebelcaptainficrec #admin: monthly prompts #prompts: june

[halflunar]

the softening blows ch. 8

AU. cassian and jyn meet at a halloween party.

read on ao3

“Come here,” he says, leaning back against the couch and tugging on her arm. She comes closer, crowding him in, and they’re body to body. It’s as soft as the snow meeting the ground, the same silence filling the space around them. It feels alive and real, energized like when the power comes back on after hours without it: nothing, and then everything at once.

Isn’t that how it is with her? Everything all at once...

#therebelcaptainnetwork #rebelcaptainficrec #rebelcaptain #the softening blows #tsb #i literally can't believe i finished this chapter