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whitedemon-ladydeath · 8 months

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SJM + Eugenics + Ableism in her Writing

thinking about how insidious eugenics can come up in writing- specifically SJMs writing. Personally I take a lot with a grain of salt bec I don't think a lot of ppl realize how fucking deeply entrenched and rooted it is in everything and more often than not its not intentional

and to an extent I don't think it was intentional by SJM. she does have a degree of plausible deniability in her story telling

however that being said:

the Cauldron "pairing mates" has allusions to being a breeding program of some kind of supernatural predestined idiocy. Sam + Melissa on Tiktok have some pretty great videos on it

However, while they think that SJM is providing commentary on the matter, I do have a different view, not that I really disagree with what they're saying

SJM has a track record of using disabilities as an aesthetic for her characters. It's often a point of suffering and/or there ends up being a magical fix (yay fantasy eugenics providing miracle cures!!! /sarcasm)

Chaol, severely injured with a spinal cord injury that left him paralyzed goes to the super special healing place to have the world's bestest healers where the magical healing trope + black girl magic collide. He spends the whole book, a duration of only six months, regaining the ability to walk, with a cane most days. Chaol spends a large part of the book feeling sorry for himself and immasculting himself. Yerene, a professional trained healer who helps him with PT snaps at him in frustration to "just get up" when he's being difficult with her Note: some of these detailed may be incorrectly remembered + I never finished the book bec I can't stand him

Lucien: he gets his eye ripped out and is literally blinded but now he has a magical eye that is even better and can sense magic and spells and all that good shit

Rhys: chronic pain; never addressed

Azriel: scarred hands and wings, but so far we've seen no real struggle or accommodation of any kind or even a real discussion on how he had to learn how to fly at an older age due to his captivity and scarred wings

Cassian: his wings were beyond shredded but between books they got fixed up right as rain. it would have been fantastic rep for this decorated veteran and leader to be disabled, esp for a culture of warriors where flying is so crucial + where thr women are also forceably mutilated and can't fly either

speaking of the illyrian women

the Illyrian Women: not being able to fly and use their limbs is a disability. We have seen zero repercussions of Emeries father (and brother(?)) for disabling and mutilating his daughter

the mental health crisis of NESTA for ONE. in both the Fandom and in the series the grating toxic positivity and lack of patience and understanding and support and willingness to meet her halfway enraged me holy shit. The tone policing, the lack of autonomy, the unaddressed childhood trauma that has made Nesta the core of who she was. it was vile and disgusting

Aelin: quite frankly should have difficulty moving as fluidly as she does. she was whipped to ribbons and beaten bloody. Her back should be full of chronic pain and difficulty

Elide: as far as I'm aware Elide isn't too bad and she's incredibly intelligent and resourceful but it's been a hot minute since I've read the series. I do remember when they talked about it at the end about possibilities to heal her ankle (they couldn't)

I haven't read CC yet but I heard that LIMBS CAN GROW BACK???? sure let's just completely erase and magically fix imputations I guess?

I find it a lit harder to forgive "accidental eugenics" when her disabled characters disabilities are either made into Aesthetics, not properly addressed, or just healed all together

and when you pair magical eugenics + aesthetics:

You get Rhysand, the most powerful high lord of ever that you just have to keep being told is the most powerful high lord ever due to his parents being mates that his father whisked away from moments before she became mutilated like all the other Illyrian Women at 18 years old to a 900 year old man

you get his entire IC who is made of The Night Courts super special powerful clique who now happen to be the most powerful illyrian EVERRRR (Cassian + Azriel), Amren who was some trapped angel of death or something and Mor who is just so super powerful a mountain quaked or something when she was born

the entire IC is a concentrated powerhouse who also uses a specific mindset of "might is right"-

-and have forced others hands across the entire series or just outright lied and stole. also trespassing and routinely breaking laws but hey

Rowan, Aelin, Aedion, Dorian, Manon are all ToG Powerhouses. Rowan is described as the "most powerful full blooded fae male alive". there's an implication that human blood "weakens" fae traits and magical abilities [this is rather common in a lot of fantasy books]

every single character in this series is seen as some sort of extraordinary person with some sort of extraordinary power or ability aside from maybe a few. Hell Chaol, the only fully human character with no powers is the "Captian of the Guard" which he got bec he's a nepo baby from being Dorians friend. He gets disabled and they immediately go to get him fixed

tagging: @feynessupremacy @bookishfeylin @andramoreaux

I thought yall would appreciate

#prev. wolfgeneralashryver #sjm critical #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #throne of glass #tog #ableism #eugenics in acotar #eugenics in tog #eugenics #my posts get good traction yall cowards better interact with these posts. i see yall scrolling whenever i talk about this

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shadowspellchecker · 1 month

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1001 AUs

1. 1. Anyone would be a better teacher

Anyone would be a better teacher….

"That is not necessary, dear Cornelius. The founders themselves set contingencies in place for just this situation. Rest assured, Hogwarts herself will provide a willing candidate."

Albus, why haven't we done this before?

In truth, Albus had seen his predecessor use it. Hogwarts' last choice was the reason Minerva's cohort had been half so well-adjusted. Albus spared a thought to the gentleman who had introduced himself to the students with a fond "Hello, Hogwarts. I'm listening." That man had been a muggle of all things! Albus had spent the year desperately concealing that fact rather than paying attention to the fallout of the war in Europe, and utterly missed the beginning of Tom's rise!

Instead, he confided, "It is only for a year, I'm afraid. And then the school will return its choice back to where and when it was taken. Hardly a reliable system."

"And Gilderoy was reliable?"

"Unfortunately, it depends on that we have no other willing applicants. Poor Gilderoy was willing. Fortunately for us, young Delores, for all her willingness to serve Cornelius in whatever way suits his fancy—" Minerva choked. "—is far less willing in this matter than she might wish."

Minerva sighed. "Small mercies. Now why are we waiting here?"

"Here" was outside a blank stretch of wall across from a rather ugly tapestry on the second floor. The unspoken "when" was five minutes to midnight on the last new moon before the first term.

"For our new professor. They should be arriving right… about…"

Across the castle, the clock tower chimed midnight. With a shudder, the wall split open… and they did.

Choose your character. In what state do they arrive? What was happening when they were taken? What is their reaction? Feel free to have Hogwarts make them an offer they can't refuse.

What challenges do they face due to dislocation? Language, powers, cultural norms, world history? How do both sides work around this?

What do they teach in DADA? How do they teach it? Do they even touch on subjects on the OWLS?

From what perspective do we see them introduced to the students?

Is there anything they need to consider before leaving at the end of the year? For instance, if they were taken from a life-threatening situation, how do they prepare so they can survive it?

Example. Rogue one.

"Which one is the professor?"

Two humans and a bloody mess. It becomes obvious that the aoman was supporting the man's weight as when unsettled by the displacement they lose balance and he tumbles to the floor with a sickening crack. The other man stirs, alive but singed and on his last leg. The only one remotely healthy looking is the woman and she looks ready to homicide. And a torched robot. Turn around, and two ghosts.

None of them speak English.

Translator spell for ghosts.

Medical medical medical.

Oh God it's another Snape.

Wands away everyone, you will not need weapons for today's class.

Our corporeal friends will be helping us today. This is Mr. Rook and Ms. Erso, and in the back the good Captain Andor is revising your textbooks.

They have fake wands to conceal being muggle.

Evolution in a force filled galaxy means squiblike passive magic.

Harry acts out? Gets shut down hard.

Jyn is teaching running.

Each of them has different quirks and students rate their days teaching quite differently. Bodhi when he subs in is quickly pinged as the nice one. He and Cassian are very by-the-book and keeping in terms of their contract. Cassian basically develops a new personality mask for teaching. You wouldn't think he was anything other than a requisitioned desk jockey with weird friends and a spinal injury. About a month in he comes in with copies of a primer he wrote himself on avoiding confrontation and infiltration and tactical awareness of one's surroundings. But… it's a book. And it is written like an intelligence mission report, so it's as dry as the Sahara. So his classes are boring. Bodhi, on the other hand, teaches things like bluffing and how to haggle.

Chirrut and Baze usually have one of the others to act as corporeal assistants, but quickly are known as quirky but competent teachers and "SO MUCH BETTER THAN BINNS." That's despite mandatory meditation sessions and proselytizing about something called the Force. Actually, Baze is generally seen as the coolest teacher.

And then there is Jyn. Oy. Within a week she's known as the terror of the student body based simply on the homework she assigns. Running, evasion, push-ups. Starting with two laps around Hogwarts while she throws pinecones at them.

When asked why she isn't using her wand, they hear her outrage. "You are my students. I will never point a deadly weapon at you."

If you ask any of the rogue one crew, anything that can send out death rays and blasting curses is a deadly weapon. But by the point anyone feels comfortable enough to ask her, the students have already worked out that their defense teachers see wands more as a weapon than a tool. It's a strange thought for wizards.

Of course we all know the reason Jyn uses pinecones rather than magic. They're muggles, midichlorian infestation or not. But they aren't telling anyone that, no one is who is in the know since it would give the ministry grounds to replace them. This one excuse gives them a lot of ground to cover.

Luna suggested Cassian is an amateur chef. I'll bite because it makes for great antics. Let's face it, on the Outer Rim cooking probably isn't an uncommon hobby. It's a status symbol in that it means you have food to spare, most people cannot afford restaurants often, and it makes for an emergency fallback profession. So it would be strange if most of them didn't have some training in cooking, or weren't at least interested in the hobby. Jyn aside.

But how it interprets is different.

In Jedha I headcanon most dishes are vegetarian, with few exceptions of non-native red meat. They don't go past that because the local fauna runs from poisonous to outright toxic. On a planet with a high offworld turnover rate that means people don't have time to acclimatize. So… for the poor, no meat.

On the other end, you have Kassa of Kenari. Kenari, I might suggest, is also a poison-ridden planet, but one where the population living there have been stuck there long enough that they've developed tolerances to many of the local species. But they're bugs and arachnids. Throw in Fest and the Ferrix now who have their own ideas of what food is.

Then you have Jyn, who eats just about anything that won't kill her after it stops moving. And a firm believer in "Waste not want not" and "turnabout is fair play".

So for antics. Enter Cassian improvising Acromantula tacos after Jyn took out one of Aragog's kids in the forbidden forest. Chirrut is alarmed because it's sentient, Bodhi and Baze because it's untested meat. K2 is exasperated that Cassian has resumed the habit of sampling local vermin raw if he's repaired. And the students? Someone overhears and the student body end up thinking they're cannibals.

Things they don't do:

Interact much with the students.

Show any sort of discord among themselves or air grievances outside private.

Student impressions

Ron on Andor: Snape in stereo

Harry on ditto: he's scrupulously fair like McGonagall, seems tired all the time like Lupin, but his eyes look like Snapes.

Ginny, on Jyn: she's awesome. I hate her. (Total denial of closet crush on teacher)

Malloy on Baze: please bring the oaf back

Luna Lovegood takes tea with Chirrut all the time. Baze cracks down on bullying.

Minor students react unexpectedly to the six.

K2SO is a mystery to the trio because they see him on the map but he only appears in person around Christmas

Round 2.

One word: Yoda.

Four words: Mistaken for house elf.

Two words: Gimer Stick.

Four words: Draco Malfoy Goes Ow!

Gratuitous handstand meditation + wizard robes = traumatized students.

#your tax dollars at work #shadowspellchecker #rogue one #harry potter crossover #star wars #yoda

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emilia3546 · 3 years

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He Never Left Your Side - Nesta and Rhys

Nesta hasn't really spoken to Rhys since Nyx's birth, not for more than polite greetings anyway. But after attending a meeting about training the female Illyrians, they're stuck together with too much left unsaid.

*****

Nesta sighed as she stared out over the Illyrian mountains, enthralled by its rugged beauty, the raw untamed power in those jagged peaks, she almost forgot the male standing beside her, almost.

"You think it's beautiful," Rhys broke her concentration, and she held back the snappy response that would have allowed her to continue staring in silence,

"I've always been drawn the the wilder things in life," she said simply, let him take from that what he would, it was true in every sense, she'd never been the woman her mother had expected, not in her heart. But now, with the Valkyries, with Cassian, she was finally the person she was born to be, even if it was twenty five years too late.

"Thank you for coming today, I think we're getting there," Nesta wasn't so sure, the meeting had been a disaster, every Camp Lord had refused training to females, although, some had conceded permission for Nesta to run Valkyrie training, but no allowance would be made from camp chores and jobs. It was the first, very tiny, step, but a step nonetheless,

"Can't you just order them?"

"They'd disobey it, and I'd have to bring force in, I don't want a civil war, this is the only way, but with you showing that females can do it, we will get there, so thank you."

"I'll admit I never thought you'd say that to me of all people,"

"Will you hate me again if I say that I never expected to say it?"

"No. I'll mark you down as pragmatic though." Rhys laughed beside her, but Nesta couldn't tear her gaze from the view before her, "But you don't have to thank me, for anything, like it or not, you're my brother,"

"Still, I don't think I'll ever manage to thank you enough for saving Feyre's life,"

"She's my sister." Nesta did glance sideways at that, "And it was about time I returned the favor," she admitted, almost starting in surprise at the respect in Rhys' eyes, and the chuckle that left his lips,

"Don't tell her that. I'm glad that you found your own way to healing, and I'm sorry that it wasn't me who helped you, I was blinded by my anger over the past, it was wrong of me, and, well, you remind me of myself in some ways, I'm not altogether sure that's a good thing."

"That's a good thing."

"But, you are my sister, and I know we can't rebuild something that was never there, but I would like to really know you, I want you to be a part of the family. I owe you everything, and it shouldn't have taken me this long to give you a chance."

"You owe me nothing."

"Agree to disagree," Nesta offered him a small smile at that, the first time they'd truly agreed to anything, and stared back out at the mountains,

"I didn't believe Feyre when she said I'd like you, and I was right, but I hated you because you were what I could have been, with the right people, but I never truly hated you I don't think, I always respected you, somewhat grudgingly, but I did, mostly for your judgement of me, many males would have simply let me do what I was doing, left it to Feyre to try and reach me, you didn't go about it the best way, mind you, but the idea was what I needed. Maybe it was for her benefit at the time, but I doubt that's true now,"

"No, it's not, believe it or not, I like you, Nesta, I didn't like the Nesta who returned after the war, but I should have recognized that you were hurting and needed support, I'm glad you were able to find it." Nesta smiled,

"I do have a bone to pick with you, though,"

"Oh yeah?"

"You gave Cass baby fever."

"I do apologize," he laughed, "Are you sure you can't hold him off?"

"Oh I can hold him off, he won't insist, but still, it's all your fault," she teased, finally relaxing, her attention no longer zeroed in on Rhys, but their surroundings, as it usually was. The companionable silence surrounding them still surprised her, were it anyone else, she'd have expected incessant talking, but it seemed that he understood, they had said what they needed to right now, it was just about learning to trust one another, to find the family bonds that they had neglected.

It was this silence that alerted her to a slight sound, a sound she assumed was Rhys moving from where she couldn't see him, but the silence made her look round, not even the birds were singing any more, a flash of movement drew her attention. She moved on instinct, not knowing what the movement was, but a sense of danger overwhelmed her as she stepped into its path, shoving Rhys aside. As it crashed into her, she identified one of the Illyrians from the meeting, a Camp Lord's son, bringing up her hand to slam her fist into his face, his nose crumpling under her fist as he stumbled backwards.

"Oh gods, Nesta,"

"What?" It was only when she stepped away from the unconscious male that she noticed the crimson drops of blood on the stone, except the blood from his nose hadn't fallen. She glanced down, her hands automatically pressing into her side at the sight of the dagger buried to the hilt just below her ribs. It hardly occurred to her that she'd saved Rhys' life, again, with the blade's trajectory aiming to sever his spinal cord had she not intervened. Horror was written across his features as her vision fractured from the pain radiating from the wound, and he stepped back to support her as she stumbled, "Now you owe me," she laughed, and winced at the pain such a movement caused.

"Hang on, I'll fix this, I will, I've just got to get us home first, okay?"

"Mmhm," Nesta mumbled, her vision failing completely as blood rushed past her fingers, staining the cliffs red as they vanished, reappearing in one of the River House's guest bedrooms. Nesta didn't register Rhys setting her down in the bed, didn't register when the door flew open and Feyre rushed in, gasping in horror at the sight of her sister.

"Could you go and fetch Cass, it'd be better to tell him face to face,"

"Okay yeah, what happened?"

"She saved my life."

Nesta did register the dagger being withdrawn, and the paint that redoubled afterwards, but a quiet tap against her mental shields encouraged her to lower them, she sensed no danger from that presence, and the pain vanished, allowing her to slip into a blissful state of unconsciousness. She didn't wake when Cassian arrived moments later, all but begging Rhys to heal her. She didn't wake when the sides of the wound closed, blood vessels realigning, skin sealing back together at Rhys' command. She didn't wake when Rhys explained what she'd done, without even thinking about it. She didn't wake when Cassian kissed her brow, when he demanded to see the male who'd hurt her. She didn't wake when Rhys admitted to having left him behind, or when Cassian checked over her again, making sure that she was really okay before leaving to find Azriel to catch the male who'd attacked them.

She did wake when her stomach demanded the dinner she'd missed, finding Rhys still sitting beside her,

"Don't get up, it was quite deep, it might not be fully healed yet, when I heal with my magic it can take a bit of time if it's a serious injury, just take your time, do you need anything?"

"Honestly, food, and a glass of water," Rhys smiled at that,

"You're okay then, so long as anyone who's been injured is asking for food, that tends to mean they're okay really, hang on, I'll be right back." Nesta closed her eyes again, only opening them when Feyre's voice sounded through her sleep,

"Nesta? You said you were hungry?"

"Thank you," he stomach growled again at the scent of the simple broth, and she slowly sat up, the pain reduced to a dull ache as she moved, pausing at the sight of Rhys beside her, sprawled in a chair beside her bed, his head leaning back against a precariously balanced cushion.

"He hasn't left your side," Feyre said, handing Nesta the tray of food, "He insisted on healing you himself, it tires him, his magic is not really designed for healing, but he wanted to do it," Nesta smiled to herself, he was a better male than she'd ever given him credit for, and she was proud to call him her brother. From Feyre's smile, she must have said it out loud, and she nodded, she meant it, it was about time they found the love that they'd been missing all their lives.

tags: @teagoddess99 @brenda5601 @azrielsdarling13 @1helena @shisingh @valkygwyn @soffiiione @toolazymyguy @awesomelena555 @trashforazriel @dealingdifferentdevils @ximena-inlovewithazwyn @almosttenaciousmoon @aightimmaheadoutsblog @alexoik @selfdestructionfetish

#fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #rhysand #rhys #nesta and rhys #nesta and feyre #sibling bonding

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canislycaonwrites · 5 years

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look, it's not my fault that you sprinted in front of my car in the middle of the night

prompt: i hit you with my car/a cat stole my wallet | read on AO3 The first thing Cassian thought was how unbelievably uncomfortable he was. That and how much his head was killing him. Sore and stiff and aching all over, he felt like he’d spent the night sleeping on concrete after being knocked unconscious. Every movement was laborious and discomforting, like his joints weren’t used to moving. The pounding in his head wasn’t helping anything either. Cauldron, this was miserable.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I feel like I got hit by a car.”

“That’s because you did,” someone to his right said. The voice was cool and female but not one he recognized.

He tried to open his eyes to look at her but his eyes felt like they’d been glued shut. He groaned again.

“Do you need help opening your eyes?”

“Yes,” he said, wincing.

Then, her gentle fingers were carefully prying open his eyes, one by one. Not that it really mattered given that his vision was blurred and his eyes couldn’t stay on the same spot for too long.

“Who are you and why are my eyes wrong?”

“Your vision problems are a side effect of the probable concussion. And maybe a side effect of the morphine.”

“Can you lower the dosage, please?”

“Sure.” She leaned across his bed and fiddled with what he presumed was his IV drip. “I only backed it down a little, in case the full amount of pain is overwhelming.”

“Thanks, who are you, though?”

“I’m Nesta. I…” Her blurred facial features moved around a bit, perhaps in a grimace. “…hit you with my car.”

“You hit me with your car…” he repeated slowly. “Why would you do that?”

“It’s not my fault, it was an accident,” she snapped, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. “What sort of an idiot sprints out of an alley into the street in the middle of the night?”

“I sprinted from an alley into oncoming traffic?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it ‘traffic’—it was just me out there. And the cat that brought me your wallet.”

“Fuck!” Cassian yelled, startling Nesta. “That damn cat stole my wallet! That’s why I was running! I was chasing him to get it back!”

Nesta pressing down on his chest lightly with one hand and said, “it’s good that you remember but you need to stop yelling.”

“That cat almost got me killed!”

“You were nowhere near death, and the cat brought back your wallet eventually.”

He opened his mouth the yell some more but stopped when he realized he couldn’t turn his head to look at her better. “Why am I in a neck brace?”

“Just a precaution, there’s nothing wrong with your neck or spine other than some whiplash—“

There was a knock on the door and a nurse poked their head in.

“I see our patient’s awake,” she said cheerfully. “I thought I heard voices in here.”

“Yes, and he’s definitely concussed. Although he does remember why he sprinted into the street.”

“A cat stole my wallet!”

The nurse blinked at him.

“It’s true,” Nesta offered. “The cat returned the wallet.”

“Ohhhkay,” the nurse said. “I’m just going to shine this little light in your eyes and then ask you a few more questions, okay?”

Cassian nodded and the nurse set about shining a tiny light in his eyes and asking him some easy general questions that he answered correctly, if not quickly.

“And do you remember where you were before…the cat stole your wallet?” the nurse asked.

“Yeah, uh,” he took a deep breath, “yeah, I was out at a club with Az and Rhys and Mor and I went outside to get some air because this guy showed up that I hate because he’s a d—uh, jerk, and I had my wallet out to give some money to a homeless guy and this demon cat from hell came out of nowhere—“

“So you remember quite a bit. No amnesia is always good.” The nurse smiled. Probably. “You are concussed, though, so we still have to keep you under observation. Luckily, you haven’t suffered any traumatic injuries: no spinal injuries, internal bleeding, or brain trauma. Although,” she added quickly, glancing at Nesta, “we will, of course, run another CT scan before you’re discharged.”

“Okay,” Cassian said slowly because he had no idea what a CT scan was. “Thanks.”

The nurse nodded and looked at Nesta. “Just, uh, keep him awake, and I’ll be back with some ice.”

“What was that about?” he asked after the nurse had gone.

“Oh, they all hate me because I insisted on double checking all of your results myself.”

Cassian frowned. “Are you a doctor?”

“No, but I did graduate from medical school.”

“Fancy. What’s a CT scan?”

“It’s x-ray imaging of your body. You really only need another head CT scan but they’ll probably run a full body one just in case.”

“‘Just in case’ meaning ‘because they don’t want to put up with you if they don’t’?”

“Pretty much.”

“What’s the ice for?”

“Your shoulder and neck. You ready to hear about your injuries?”

Cassian nodded.

“Most of your injuries are from landing on the pavement. I very nearly didn’t hit you at all. The only injury from the car is a bruise on your right leg.” She pulled back the blanket to show him the yellowing purple bruise on his lower leg. “So that need will need a little rehab but is otherwise fine.” She flipped the blanket back over him. “Your right wrist is sprained from when you tried to catch yourself on the pavement and you’ll have to wear the brace for a couple of weeks.”

That wasn’t so bad, Cassian thought. At least it wasn’t broken. He could wait a few weeks to punch Eris in the face.

“You know about the whiplash, which will last for a week at the most. Your left side is a different story. That whole side is basically one big bruise. You landed hard on your left shoulder. So hard that I’m surprised it wasn’t broken or dislocated. That bruise is the worst one; it’s almost black. You’ll have to use the sling for at least a month, probably six weeks. And you’ll need a lot of rehab.”

Cassian winced. He could already tell that not being able to use his left arm was going to drive him crazy.

“Your ribs are bruised, too. Thankfully not broken or fractured. Your left tibia is, though. That’s your—“

“Lower leg bone.”

“Yes. The way you landed caused a hairline fracture. Not so bad, all things considering. And they gave you a walking cast so you won’t need crutches.”

“That’s good, because I can’t use them.”

“Exactly.”

They lapsed into awkward silence for a moment, until the nurse came back with a sack of ice, which was, frankly, much colder than he remembered ice being, for his shoulder.

“Hold still,” the nurse said, after Cassian flinched violently at the contact.

“Don’t you have any warmer ice?” he asked.

Nesta snorted and the nurse sighed good-naturedly. “You can take it off in ten minutes, but not until then. Your CT scan is scheduled for just before lunch, and then we’ll see about getting you discharged.”

Cassian managed to thank her before she left, leaving him alone with Nesta once more.

After another few minutes of silence, Cassian opened his mouth, but before he could form words, Nesta was speaking.

“They couldn’t reach your emergency contact but I called the emergency contact in your phone—“

“You hacked my phone.”

Nesta’s arms tightened over her chest. “I’d hardly call holding your thumb to the fingerprint reader on your phone hacking—“

“I would but go on.”

“If you would stop interrupting me—”

“I will, promise.”

Cassian couldn’t see her expression but he felt confident it was exasperated.

She flicked her hair over her shoulder before continuing. “Well, I left messages for your most important person so I’m sure someone will be here soon.”

“Okay,” Cassian said. “How are you?”

“I…excuse me?”

Mother above, did this woman never get asked after her health? “I asked how you’re doing, how you’re feeling.”

“I-I mean I didn’t just get hit by a car.”

“No but you hit someone with a car, that must be stressful.”

“I…yes, it is,” Nesta admitted, before sinking into what was most likely a chair.

It occurred to Cassian that she may have been standing the entire time they’d been at the hospital.

Nesta ran her hands through her hair a few times before tucking it behind her ears. “I’m…tired, I guess. I,” she sighed. “I flew in yesterday on a long-haul red eye, and then I went straight to a bunch of meetings and then a dinner, and then I hit this absolute moron,” Cassian suppressed a grin, “with my rental car, so I haven’t slept in a while.”

“Why the hell did you need a rental car in the city?”

“My sisters and I were supposed to have a long weekend together upstate but obviously that didn’t go to plan.”

Cassian winced, which moved his neck, which moved his shoulder, which made him wince more. “I’m sorry I ruined your weekend.”

“I’m sorry I hit you with my car.”

They both laughed a bit at that.

“You could probably,” Cassian started, “you could still go, it’s not that late—“

Nesta shook her head. “They left hours ago; they’re long gone.”

Cassian frowned. He felt very sure his brothers would not go on vacation if he had just hit someone with his car.

“It’s fine,” Nesta said quickly. “I told them to go. They could use the break.”

“I’m guessing you could, too.” Nesta shrugged, uncomfortable. “Do you…if you want to go home, I mean, I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

“Oh,” Nesta said, taken aback. “I don’t, um, I don’t have a place here, and I didn’t make a hotel reservation because of the…”

“Weekend upstate, yeah.”

“Yeah.” There was a stretch of silence before, “I can go, if you want, I know you need to rest and everything.”

Cassian’s heart clenched in his chest. “No! No, I don’t want you to go, I was just saying, you know, because you haven’t slept—“

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

Another stretch of silence.

“So.” Cassian looked around awkwardly, fingers fidgeting with the scratchy hospital sheets. “What are concussed people allowed to do?”

“Rest, mostly.”

“Rest is for squares. What else?”

“Listening to podcasts, I guess?” She shifted around in her seat. “Or talking to people.”

“Let’s talk,” Cassian said eagerly. “I like talking.”

Nesta laughed through her nose. “I never would have guessed.”

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #mine #my writing #acotar fic #modern au

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ao3feed-rebelcaptain2 · 4 years

Text

A Proud, Unpleasant Sort of Man [Podfic]

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WzYo4U

by blackglass

A podfic of "A Proud, Unpleasant Sort of Man" by angel_deux.

"It takes Cassian Andor and Han Solo an embarrassingly long time to realize that they aren't each other's rivals."

Words: 44, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, Han Solo, Leia Organa, Baze Malbus, Bodhi Rook, Chewbacca (Star Wars)

Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Cassian Andor & Leia Organa, Jyn Erso & Han Solo

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Misunderstanding, Comedy, only a tiny amount of angst, mentions of spinal injuries and prosthetics, also lots of swearing, because i wrote this at 2 am and was a lil buzzed and apparently salty, on my phone this was called 'Kill Bill Sirens' because of the first scene, and on my laptop it's 'Han Shoots First', but I'm a coward and went with a conventional title instead, Podfic, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2WzYo4U

#ao3feed #rebelcaptain #rebel captain #jyn x cassian #cassian x jyn #rebelcaptain fanfic #jynxcassian

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anghraine · 7 years

Text

“part of the past, but now you’re the future” - fic

AKA the fic I planned to write for Day 2 of Rebelcaptain Appreciation Week (“Comfort”), but lol what are plans. (Also the one I was whining about last night. And last week.)

fandom: Star Wars

verse: the one where the early script idea for Jyn and Cassian to narrowly escape the wreckage TOTALLY HAPPENED*cough* (tagged as #script au because I’m creative like that; follows directly from threshold of a dream, though is probably comprehensible without it)

characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, K-2SO; Jyn/Cassian

length: 4400

stuff that happens: grief, uncertain love, spinal injuries, involuntary drug use

It all made sense in his head. Yet, for one of the only times in his life, thoughts didn’t translate smoothly into words, the bonds between head and heart and speech worn near to snapping.

Just his head alone … his mind didn’t work quite right, he could tell. Everything jolted along uneven paths, simple sentences meandering off. Even without the sharp, hot anguish that swallowed up nearly all else, he couldn’t—he kept slipping in and out of the blue glow, exhaustion more threatening than a dozen cracked bones.

Jyn, he reminded himself. She jostled him again, pain slicing through him, but his eyes flew open. Jyn was here, and he had to get her home. He’d promised.

Cassian didn’t know if he would ever go back into the field.

Not because of his very real distaste for it, and not because of self-pity. It was just the doctors and droids, with their anxious-cheerful voices, assuring him that he would very probably walk again.

“Almost certainly,” stressed Dr Tanth.

Cassian was not often at a loss for words.

“Oh,” he said. “Good.”

Tanth kept talking, and the droids, but he tuned them out. For once, it didn’t seem important to catch every detail. He’d walk, or he wouldn’t. The chances appeared to be in his favour, though he couldn’t know more precisely without Kay to—

Without—

He’d never anticipated this. It was foolish, of course; a single droid, however powerful, could always be destroyed. Easily, even. Cassian knew that. But he didn’t think he would live long enough to see it. Anything that could take out Kay would have long since taken out him. Kay himself gloated … used to gloat that he would still be in peak condition after Cassian had gone through five or six iterations.

(Cassian had briefly considered explaining how organic reproduction worked, then decided he would rather do literally anything else.)

It seemed almost obscene that his vulnerable human body had outlasted Kay’s circuits. He’d been shot and smashed his spine and cracked his bones until he could no longer hold himself upright, but with Kay reduced to a smear of metal, somehow Cassian hung on. Through that excruciating climb—and then, there was Jyn. He didn’t know that she hadn’t sustained him through will alone.

“That’s Alderaanian,” she’d said when he swore under his breath. Cassian squinted through his unsteady vision as he swerved their shuttle around laserfire. His records said he was a competent pilot in his own right, but he felt half of one in the instant. “Is that where you’re from?”

“No,” he panted, forcing his attention away from burning pain in his side and back and legs, and onto the warmth and strength of her grip on his shoulder. “Fieste.”

Her hand tightened and his focus narrowed with it, as if her fortitude somehow bled into him, arced along her fingertips. He’d done this before, flying alone and injured, with smaller stakes than Jyn’s life. Dodge, calculate, time the jump.

He knew that they would die if he couldn’t do it this time. Joyless as his life was, Cassian dreaded death; but he dreaded it for Jyn still more. Most of all like this. Dying on Scarif, however horrific, would have made a certain terrible sense. Their lives for the mission. But this? No. Jyn couldn’t get killed by the Empire’s cannon fodder.

She wouldn’t.

Jyn had stayed quiet, as usual, while Cassian plotted the coordinates. But when he counted down under his breath, she unhesitatingly yanked down the hyperdrive clutch, and they slid smoothly into lightspeed.

For a long few seconds, they just watched the whirling lights of hyperspace. But his head spun, and agony splintered through almost every part of his body. Behind the pilot’s seat, Jyn was fumbling with something he couldn’t see.

Even his breath felt thin and difficult, something that might betray him at any moment. He’d only taken this kind of damage a few times, and never without Kay.

She’d said she couldn’t fly. He thought so, anyway. Cassian would collapse soon enough, but it couldn’t be now. He had to land the shuttle on Yavin, had to keep concentrating.

Teeth clenched, he said, “Can … you talk?”

“Of course I can,” replied Jyn, her voice clear and steady even as she wrangled with whatever she’d found. He hadn’t expected so immediate or easy an assent, even now. Sure enough, she stayed silent at first, a heavy pause that stretched on like the starlight around them. Then, voice shriller than he’d ever heard it, she said, “Fieste? I’ve never heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t.” Cassian had to close his eyes; he thought he might throw up, otherwise. “Not important. Outer Rim. And you don’t … Basic. Fest.”

It all made sense in his head. Yet, for one of the only times in his life, thoughts didn’t translate smoothly into words, the bonds between head and heart and speech worn near to snapping.

Jyn, he reminded himself. She jostled him again, pain slicing through him, but his eyes flew open. Jyn was here, and he had to get her home. He’d promised. Talk to me.

And Jyn, always so taciturn and brusque, had talked. She carried on that one-sided conversation until her voice went hoarse, cracked. At that, she dredged up water, gulped it all down, then talked on.

Cassian couldn’t follow most of it, but that didn’t matter. He latched onto her voice, and kept flying.

Now, some unknown number of days later, she was gone.

Not permanently, as far as he knew, and he didn’t anticipate that. He could think of above half a dozen things she might be doing: showering, sleeping, praying, fighting, a wide range of possible meetings. Also, every time before now—and Cassian gathered that he’d been in and out of surgery at least a week—he had woken to Jyn hovering nearby like some bad-tempered falcon, and she wasn’t the sort to run. Others would probably doubt that, but he didn’t really care. Cassian trusted his judgment and he trusted Jyn.

Perhaps unwisely in this case. But Jyn did not turn her back on anyone who had not first turned theirs on her. And it was Cassian’s nature to expect nothing and hope for everything; he had not followed it this far to turn back now.

“—to test the fusion of the implants with nervous tissue,” Tanth was droning on.

Cassian focused on him. “Cybernetic implants?”

Startled, Tanth said, “Yes, of course.”

Before he could reply, they both heard a shrill robotic voice from outside the room.

“You can stay here until Dr Tanth finishes the consultation.”

“I can also tear your circuits out,” said Jyn calmly.

Cassian was repressing a smile before she even walked in. When she did, he noticed two things right away: she looked livid, and she was wearing one of his jackets.

“There you are,” he said without thinking, then almost winced.

“Here I am,” agreed Jyn. Her voice betrayed nothing, but her scowl faded into what seemed very much like self-satisfaction as she strolled over and flung herself into the nearest chair. She studied him, with a clinical air that meant it signified little, but—

“You look better.” She glanced over at Tanth. “He’s had another surgery? How did it go?”

The doctor shifted, pretending to examine his datapad. The light it cast didn’t so much as flicker; there couldn’t actually be anything new. “Ah … I can’t—the patient—”

Cassian, not bothering to wait him out, waved this aside. “You can tell her anything.”

Though Jyn remained withdrawn, she gave one of her slight, ambiguous smiles.

“Well,” said Tanth, “as I was saying, captain, we’ll want to test the integration of the cybernetic implants into the organic material.”

Jyn narrowed her eyes. “The organic material of his spine?”

“Yes,” he said shortly, while Cassian fought off a wave of exhaustion. He felt like he’d slept more in the last … whatever, than in the five years before. It was unnatural, and felt it, his dreams strange, and his mind disoriented when he woke up or went to sleep. They must be drugging him—and if so, they must have a reason, since the Rebellion never wasted resources. In all probability, he couldn’t help it, but he felt like he should be able to power through. Cassian frowned, trying to concentrate on the doctor.

Something, something, antibodies. Tanth’s mouth kept moving, but it didn’t seem quite right. About the edges, he blurred into the background.

Cassian turned his gaze on Jyn, instead. She was nearer, and more real. Not fuzzy at all, just sitting there in his leather jacket, frowning.

“—what do you mean by ‘almost certainly?’” she was saying. Her fingers lay over his wrist, though he wasn’t sure she’d noticed herself placing them there. He hadn’t.

“Exactly what I said, Miss Erso,” replied Tanth. Jyn must have given her name at some point. “It depends on the success of the cybernetics, and the success rate is very high.”

“How high?”

The pause lingered, like so many of the pauses she left behind her.

“Pardon?”

Jyn’s hand curled around his wrist, her grip tight enough to hurt. Cassian said nothing, since he didn’t mind. It couldn’t begin to compare to everything else, and regardless, the brush of her skin more than made up for it.

In short, clipped syllables, she snapped, “Doctor, I want numbers.”

Kay would have them. Kay would already be haranguing Tanth and Jyn alike—and Cassian, too, but with the undertone of devotion he showed no one else.

He hadn’t programmed Kay to love him. You couldn’t, really. Even before the reprogramming, Kay loathed the Imperial captain who owned him. But not Cassian.

“Are you my master now?” he’d said doubtfully. “You do not appear to be a fully advanced version of your subclass.”

“No,” Cassian told him. “I just wanted to help. You’re free.”

“Free,” K-2SO repeated, as if he didn’t quite understand.

Cassian could believe it. In all probability, Imperial droids never had cause to understand freedom. So he said,

“It means you can do and say whatever you want.”

K-2SO peered around, eyes flickering. It took him a good minute.

“I find this room utterly unappealing.”

Cassian burst out laughing. He was still very young, and it didn’t trouble him that he had creatively interpreted his orders. With the bright certainty that always guided him, however opaque his path, he knew it had been the best thing to do. And he’d been less cautious in those days, less constrained.

Back then, only his skill at programming made him useful, since he’d grown too old to play at tragic orphan, too big to slip into tiny spaces, and too youthful for recruitment or combat. Instead, he got assigned to the laborious process of learning, writing, and adapting the codes for assorted devices. In this case, that meant 1) wiping the memory of a potentially valuable security droid, 2) identifying and stripping out the bonds of his Imperial programming, and 3) replacing them with Alliance ones for security. Cassian only managed the second of these things.

One of his rare but recurrent episodes of insubordination, he supposed. But he hadn’t thought of it that way. He only thought it impossible to do otherwise. Cassian had not joined the Rebellion to turn Imperial slaves into Alliance slaves; he was here for liberation.

“Let’s see if you’re working properly,” he said.

K-2SO’s eyes flashed, head tilted in what would be thought, were he human. Running scans? Basically the same thing.

“You have not altered any essential processes.”

“No,” said Cassian, appalled. “You wouldn’t be you.”

Before the droid could try to process that, Major Derlin showed up to check his progress. To Cassian’s alarm, he seemed angry as much as surprised.

“What were you thinking?” he demanded, while K-2SO amused himself with making clinking noises and slouching.

“I didn’t think the Rebellion kept slaves,” Cassian said sharply. “Sir.”

Derlin stared at him. Some part of his outrage seemed to have subsided, though not all. He took a step forward—probably to examine the droid more closely. He wasn’t a violent man.

K-2SO, however, did not know that. Without hesitation, he seized Cassian’s arm and shoved him behind his own towering frame, hard enough that Cassian staggered and fell, gracelessly.

“You are a small and decaying specimen of your kind,” he informed Derlin. “Your odds of overpowering me are less than one percent.” He turned his head to peer down at Cassian. “This one is mine.”

“Uh,” said Cassian. “You can’t own people. That’s the point.”

K-2SO’s eyes flickered. “You misunderstand. I am a security droid. Now, I shall secure you.” He was already glowering at Derlin again. “Forever.”

Cassian, speechless, gawked at the droid’s back. He would be covered with bruises in the morning, but that didn’t seem important. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had sheltered him, or anything like it.

Dimly, he realized: everything had changed.

“Thanks?”

Of course, in the middle of a Rebel base, even a droid of Kay’s stature and strength could be easily overpowered. If they wanted Kay bolted and coded into obedience, it would have happened. Instead, Draven interceded with the bemused Derlin. He kept Cassian on a leash, but a long one. While nobody could say Draven coddled anyone, Cassian later realized that he’d seen potential in him, quick and clever and convincing at fourteen. No point in burning through the ideals of a protégé who would do anything for his convictions, and therefore the Rebellion, as long as he saw them bound together.

And even among droids, Draven valued loyalty above obedience. He always said that free droids were far more effective, when reliable. He might be no Jedi, but no doubt Draven had foreseen—in his way—a time when a loyal, independent droid watching Cassian’s back would be more than worth the loss of a bolted one.

So Kay retained his new programming, and Cassian gained a protector. He was almost giddy; it seemed like the kind of story his sister might have read to him. A boy and his droid.

Not mine. He’s a free droid. Anyway, he didn’t feel like a boy.

A Rebel and his friend, maybe. That was better, better than anything. He hadn’t had anyone to care about for eight years, since his brother and sisters got shot.

But then there was Kay. For twelve years, Kay’s hulking body clumped at Cassian’s side or behind his back; for twelve years, he complained when Cassian replaced some defunct part or upgraded to a new one, though he gloated insufferably after; for twelve years, he delivered odds and mowed through stormtroopers and aggressively slouched around bases and ships alike. Twelve, twelve: it cycled through his head like Chirrut’s mantras. Twice the length of time Cassian had been alive when the clonetroopers came.

In his head, Cassian, nos enti—¡corre, corre! muddled in his head with Goodbye, clonetroopers joining with unseen stormtroopers, memories of peering up through rubble mingled with his horror as he gazed down at Jyn. He’d seen her swallow after he screamed, either in grief of her own or sympathy, and then there’d been … the plans, the Rebellion, they overrode everything.

Even Kay, for the moment. And Jyn was—he had to find Jyn. That man in white was somewhere up there, and the remaining deathtroopers. Maybe reinforcements. He had to get to her, for the plans and for—just, Jyn. Her name shrieked through his head, as it so often did: Jyn, Jyn, Jyn, Jyn!

Cassian couldn’t do much at that point. But he could climb and he could shoot. And he could block the way to her if needed, take another blaster bolt. Maybe several, like Kay.

“Captain?”

It took a strong exertion of effort to drag himself back into the infirmary. He squinted, trying to get the edges of the room to stop swimming.

“If you’re willing, then I’ll just have you sign here.” Tanth handed him a datapad.

Cassian blinked down at it. He had no idea what the man was talking about.

As he tried to make it out, something dug into his left hand. Jyn’s nails.

“Look at me, Cassian,” she ordered, in a tone that suggested she’d already said it a few times.

He turned to her, not really comprehending, but responding to her tone more than the words, and contented enough with the slide of her hand on his. Or, not contented, but … soothed? Perhaps.

Jyn stared into his eyes. Not like in the elevator, regrettably. She looked more irritated than anything.

“I thought so.” She shifted to look at Tanth, jaw tight and brows furrowed. Not angry, but definitely displeased. “Maybe you could time these conversations for when he’s not high as the stars?”

That seemed … oddly poetic. For Jyn.

“Thanks,” she said dryly. If the doctor replied—though Cassian wasn’t sure why she’d be thanking him—he didn’t catch it. But Jyn went on, “They want to run a test to make sure the surgeries have done what they’re supposed to. Understand that?”

“Yes,” he said. They’d been talking about that for … an hour? Or whatever it was.

Jyn’s mouth twitched for some reason. “And then they’re going to do one more, which should get you functioning without medicine. Are you fine with that?”

“Yes.” Why wouldn’t he be?

Her fingers tapped unconsciously over his palm. He presumed unconsciously. It was nice either way, though he took care not to say so. Even drugged half out of his mind, he knew he had to keep some things to himself.

Jyn cared, to be sure. At this very moment, she jabbed the doctor with as many questions as Kay would have asked, held his hand again. Back in the Citadel, she’d screamed as he fell. When she saw his injuries afterwards, she flashed from triumph to murder almost faster than he could grasp her.

And, in the elevator—Cassian could still feel her boxing him in, small as she was, her arm slipping around his neck and face lifting up to him. Even so, he had to bend his head down: not that it troubled him, even through the pain piercing every part of his body. Her mouth pressed against his, as soft and tentative as they’d been in the shuttle, and it wasn’t like the others at all—he wanted this—

Yet he didn’t think it was quite the same for her. Cassian had been completely charmed since he saw her trouncing stormtroopers on the streets of Jedha, except when he lost his temper, and mostly he didn’t. But his heart nearly stopped every time he realized her life was in danger, and often it was. Jyn stopped at nothing, suffered not a flicker of weakness in herself; she would be dead near a half-dozen times if he hadn’t been there. If he’d been just that bit slower, or weaker, or less accurate. He could have been. He certainly was now.

In any case, she didn’t panic as he did, or look half out of her mind, as he felt, or any of that. It didn’t bother him. This ... indistinct affection was more than he’d ever anticipated from another living person. She had called him her friend after a week, and felt furiously betrayed after another, and drawn close and smiling in the third. It was something. He just didn’t want her to feel any sort of—expectation.

As ever, he hoped, but did not expect.

“Cassian!” Jyn blew her hair out of her face, or tried. “Are you listening?”

“No,” Cassian said, honesty a rare luxury. He thought about it. “I keep getting lost.”

She studied him, her own eyes wide. They weren’t like jade, or emeralds, or anything like that; from a distance, they looked vaguely grey or even blue. This close, though, he could see the pale green of her irises, the dark grey rings circling the edges, spokes as brown as his own flaring out from the pupil like dark stars. A bright, uninterrupted green would be less interesting. This wasn’t something that could be approximated by a rock.

Thankfully—he thought later—Cassian clung to enough sanity to keep his mouth shut on that, too.

“Give me the datapad,” she said.

“Miss—”

“He can’t consent,” said Jyn. It made sense, though he couldn’t remember anyone ever bothering themselves over the finer details of that. “I’m next of kin, I’ll sign for it. He agreed as far as he could follow, anyway.”

Cassian handed it over, though not without complaining, “I am right here.”

She just pushed her fringe out of her eyes again. He sympathized. In fact, he tried to lift his free hand to his brow, but it felt impossibly heavy, as if it were as much a cybernetic as the implants in his back.

Abruptly, he said, “Am I a cyborg?”

Jyn had been grumbling under her breath, and he thought the doctor, too. Maybe at each other. But both broke off, now. He could tell they were staring at him, even though he couldn’t have sworn the former was human, at this far away.

“Uh,” Tanth said. “We don’t generally apply the term with respect to purely internal cybernetics. You won’t be considered one on your personnel records, certainly.”

That was answer enough. Right, he thought. Okay.

“If that’s all …”

Jyn handed over the datapad with a dismissive gesture, and Dr Tanth receded. Cassian thought he did. At least, the space that he’d occupied looked empty, and a pleasant quietness settled around them. It was one of the many things he liked about Jyn; so many people rushed to make clamour out of peace, like the Empire. Jyn dwelt in silences—sometimes venturing out, but always returning again. She could deliver monologues without a word.

He, not so much. For Cassian, words were less tools of clarification than extensions of himself: sometimes artificial, but always rooted in his own being. He held them close, most often; that did not make them absent.

“There’s no difference,” he announced.

Jyn eyed him. Since he liked her eyes, it didn’t matter.

“No difference between what?”

“The cybernetics,” said Cassian. “Outside or inside—why should that change anything?”

She shrugged. “Aesthetics. It’s not about science.”

The disdain in her voice caught him. Her father’s, perhaps, though it seemed she would have been too young to absorb much before his disappearance. She’d been older than Cassian, though—eight or nine, not six. She would remember more. He thought the mother had been a scientist, too.

“Do you mind it?” Jyn asked, voice awkward and brows knit.

Puzzled, he said, “Science?”

She made a strangled sound that he couldn’t quite identify. “The cyborg thing.”

“Oh.” His thoughts tried to wander again, but for the instant, Cassian held them fast. He shook his head, everything spinning. Even like this, the laugh in his ears sounded strange. “No. I was just thinking that Kay would be delighted.”

Jyn’s mouth curved, the smile tight but real. Like him, she had lines about her eyes, and they deepened now.

“One step closer to droid superiority?”

“Exactly.” He felt surprised that she saw it, and utterly unsurprised, all at once. But they’d understood each other in the end, Kay and Jyn. If he had escaped, they might have made a remarkable pair. The two of them really did have plenty in common, though Cassian valued his skin enough not to say so. “He liked you.”

Jyn snorted.

“Eventually.”

“Like captain, like droid?” She was blurry now, too, so he needed the words to hang onto.

“No,” he said. “I liked you from Jedha. When you clobbered all the stormtroopers.” Cassian almost let himself sink into that memory, so much pleasanter than thinking about Kay. But she was here as much as there, the fingers on his hand curling up in—surprise?—and relaxing again.

“It would be that,” said Jyn, amused. “But I didn’t notice.”

“I know.” He narrowed his eyes enough to make her out through the heaviness in his head, and through his hair. She looked—soft, almost, in a way he’d only seen once or twice.

In the hangar, he remembered, when she seemed to truly realize he wouldn’t abandon her. She’d drifted forward into their odd sort of binary orbit, tilting her face up and smiling like every burden in her life had just tumbled off her shoulders. Like she had no desire to be anywhere else, with anyone else. It’d been the same here, earlier, when she leaned down and echoed his welcome home.

Now, Jyn snapped her fingers in front of his face. “You need to go to sleep.”

Probably.

“You’re wearing my jacket,” he pointed out.

Colour rose to her cheeks. He didn’t think he’d seen her do that, ever.

“My vest is disgusting,” said Jyn, with an air of casual unconcern that he didn’t even slightly believe. “I had to wear something.”

First he thought of saying that she might have stolen from someone her size, or at least her gender; then he thought of saying that she could have just taken one of his shirts, since the leather jacket was warm for Massassi; and, finally, he thought of asking just how much time she had spent in his quarters.

“Right,” Cassian said.

Her voice quickening, she went on, “The other coats were much too big. I like how I look in this one, though.”

Valiantly, he tried to think of any reply other than so do I.

“Did you steal another blaster?”

“What do you think I am?” Even through his haze, he could see that Jyn looked offended. She lifted the edge of the coat to reveal her hip, where sure enough, one of his older blasters rested. “Of course I did.”

“You’ll get a better model,” Cassian said vaguely. A new alarm struck him. “If you stay with the Alliance.”

Somehow, between that moment and the next, Jyn went from seated at his side to bracing his shoulder with one hand, the other reclining the chair into a bed. Even a half-hearted effort to stay upright on his own lashed fire down his back.

“Lie down,” said Jyn, from wherever she was. Near.

Now he obeyed without hesitation, trying to catch his breath.

“The new surgery should fix that,” she told him. “And the final bacta treatment. That’s this afternoon.”

He barely caught that, mind stuck on his previous thought. Nothing about the ceiling eased it. Nor did the one lock of his fringe that always fell over his eyes. Irritably, he blew at it, as Jyn had her own, but with no more success.

“Where will you be?” Cassian asked, too sleepy and dazed to even speculate at how he sounded. He closed his eyes. “You’re free.”

There was a long pause, and then Jyn’s voice:

“I’m not going anywhere.” Someone touched his brow, so hesitant that he barely felt it. Then, more confidently, they stroked his hair out of his face. “Go to sleep, Cassian.”

#cassian andor #jyn erso #otp: welcome home #anghraine's fic #star wars #kaytoo #major derlin #haha everything is fine how are you #script au

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motleystitches · 7 years

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vrabia replied to your post “Spinal injuries in fandom”

that being said, i really wish the novelization gave us the climb from cassian's pov. instead it's all about how exhausting jyn finds it and i kept thinking yeah not only did cassian do exactly the same thing while seriously injured, but he did it pretty fast to show up just in time to shoot krennic. we should've gotten his pov on that.

I agree, I don’t think Cassian broke his spine at all. It’s just fandoms’ reaction to spinal injuries are so vastly different that’s amusing. Some fics do state that he broke his spine. Personally, I think he cracked his ribs and had some sort of his leg injury but it’s clearly not broken. I’m not sure if he would be able to climb so quickly with a wrenched ankle, but adrenaline through all things...

#vrabia #rebelcaptain #cassian andor #the only star wars character who fell and climbed up again #just in time

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mosylufanfic · 7 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Cassian Andor & Leia Organa, Jyn Erso & Han Solo Characters: Cassian Andor, Han Solo, Jyn Erso, Leia Organa, Baze Malbus, Bodhi Rook, Chewbacca Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Misunderstanding, Comedy, only a tiny amount of angst, mentions of spinal injuries and prosthetics, also lots of swearing, because i wrote this at 2 am and was a lil buzzed and apparently salty, on my phone this was called 'Kill Bill Sirens' because of the first scene, and on my laptop it's 'Han Shoots First', but I'm a coward and went with a conventional title instead Summary:

It takes Cassian Andor and Han Solo an embarrassingly long time to realize that they aren't each other's rivals.

#Cassian Andor #Jyn Erso #rebelcaptain #Han Solo #Leia Organa #han x leia #fanfiction #recs #angel_deux #eeee this is so good!#they both envy the other for what they don't have #and what they think Jyn and Leia value #which is not entirely accurate #star wars #search your feelings you know it to be queue

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imsfire2 · 7 years

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Paraesthesia

[written for the prompt “Nerve” for day 4 of rebelcaptain week]

Springtime on Naboo; famous for cherry blossom, new-season wine, and a tradition of long rural hikes in the open air. It’s the fresh air that’s doing for them all, Jyn thinks, looking at her fiancé fast asleep in one of the balcony chairs. That and the sense of letting-go of responsibility.

It’s good to see Cassian get some sleep, anyway. Even if he could have used the bed, instead of curling up like that, half on his side, in the most ridiculous position imaginable with one leg bunched up under him and his left arm squashing his nose so much it’s impeding his breathing. The bed is large and very comfortable, almost too comfortable, with its crisp sheets and feather-light quilts, and the perfect balance of softness and support in the mattress.

But then, if she finds it almost too comfortable, no doubt so does he. They’ve both had years of never knowing whether tonight’s quarters would still be their home tomorrow, or if a mission would go critical way past midnight and the dog watch become a fight to the death. Sleep had to be taken when, and where, it could, and they’ve both evolved the skill of sleeping anywhere at any time. Folding themselves up in a crumple of limbs, cramming themselves into unobserved corners, pillowing heads on arms, on one another, on an unused desk or unmanned gunnery seat.

Cassian looks so innocent when he’s asleep, she thinks, watching the breeze touch his hair, hearing the faint snuffle of his breath; loving him very much, wanting nothing but peace for him.

Behind her the door to their suite opens and K-2 comes in and sets down a large shopping bag on the floor. “I’ve got everything,” he announces smugly. “You said Mandalorian whiskey would be hard to find, Jyn, but I had no difficulty in persuading the storekeeper to sell me a bottle.”

Cassian wakes up with a jolt at the sound. He rubs a hand over his eyes and looks around; sees her, smiles, stands up. And falls over with a shocked oath.

She really, really wants not to find it funny. But his face; his dear, precious face, so completely stunned as he says “My leg is dead!” and grabs at the offending limb like someone in a cartoon, bumping it up and down, checking it’s still attached. “K! Scan me! – my spine!—“

K-2 stalks over to the balcony doors and looks him over. “There is no new spinal damage. None of your old injuries has been destabilised. There is a 91.6% chance you are experiencing paraesthesia.”

That does it. “I know I shouldn’t laugh,” Jyn says; but she is laughing and laughing, she can’t help it.

“What the hells is paraesthesia?” Cassian thumps his right leg miserably, glowering at it.

“A short-term neurological condition caused when a nerve is subject to pinching or pressure, for example through an incorrect posture or sleeping position. Common name, pins-and-needles.” K-2 reaches out and puts one massive articulated mitt under Cassian’s arm, hauls him yelping to his feet. “Jyn gets it a lot,” he adds blithely “and you don’t hear her complain.”

She resists the urge to offer the droid a high five, since he might let go of Cassian to respond and she’s not sure he can stand up unaided yet. “Thank you, K.”

“You’re welcome. It was a factual observation, not a compliment.”

“Any more fodder out of you and I’m powering you down for the rest of the day,” Cassian growls. Yeow, aieee, what the – ow, ow!” He’s trying to support himself and his face is a study, of irritation, frustration, a sweet confusion.

“I take it there’s some feeling coming back?” she asks.

“That’s one word for it.” He leans on K-2, twitching his leg in a gingerly fashion; swears softly in Festi. “Jyn, do you really get this? How come you’ve never said anything? It’s agony.”

“It passes pretty quickly, I promise. Just keep moving gently, the burning sensation will get easier.”

“I had no idea it was like this.” Cassian is sheepish now, which just makes him look even more adorable. “I thought when people said pins-and-needles it was some sort of a joke but that’s exactly what it feels like. My own leg is stabbing me!”

Jyn comes closer; cautiously holds out her hand. “I’m sorry I laughed at you. I know it isn’t really funny. But your face…” She wants to sound contrite but it’s hard to keep a tinge of mischief from her voice.

He gives her a rueful smile. “I was only thinking the other day that I wanted to hear you laugh more. If it has to be at me instead of with me, I’ll cope.” He grabs at her outstretched hand and pulls her close. “But if you want to apologise, you could give me a kiss.”

K-2 stands in the balcony door for a moment. Makes a grinding noise Jyn has come to know as his equivalent of a sigh. “I’ll just let myself out, then.”

“Unless you want a kiss as well?” she suggests.

“I’ll let myself out.”

#rebelcaptainweek #rebelcaptainprompts #therebelcaptainnetwork #prompt 4: nerve #my writing #fluff and feels #and pins and needles

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senatorrorgana · 7 years

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Home - One

Summary: Scarif left Cassian physically a mess, he shouldn't have even survived according to some doctors, but yet he did, and due to his injuries, he was taken off of field duty. Now, pushing papers on Echo Base with his wounds finally healing fully, Jyn tries to encourage him to try some physical therapy, to see if it'll help with his pain at least. However, fate seems to change those plans when Jyn comes back injured from a scouting trip, having her leg crushed by a Tauntaun. Now, the both of them physically restricted, they decide to handle their recoveries together, and spending so much time alone leads them to finally explore the feelings they've had for one another since they first met.

A/N: This came from a prompt I got from my birthday, I've been slowly going through the list and while most have been one shots, this one just struck me as something I could really elaborate on. So thank you to whoever the lovely anon was that sent me this prompt, there will be fluff eventually in it, but for now, enjoy this heaping piles of angst and hidden feelings from these two dorks!

Pairing: Rebelcaptain

Rating: M

Words: 2,767

AO3: (x)

MEDICAL REPORT ON CAPTAIN CASSIAN JERON ANDOR

After the incident on Scarif, Captain Andor was rushed to the medical bay by his fellow injured crewmates, his heartbeat barely able to be captured by the machines. A quick scan was taken of Captain Andor before proceeding with a bacta tank treatment, his injuries were as follows:

BLASTER BOLT TO THE LEFT SIDE OF THE RIBCAGE

TWO BROKEN RIBS (LEFT)

FOUR FRACTURED RIBS (THREE LEFT, ONE RIGHT)

PUNCTURED LUNG (LEFT)

POSSIBLE CONCUSSION

FRACTURE IN SPINAL CORD - CAN POSSIBLY RESULT IN HANDICAP

DISLOCATED SHOULDER (RIGHT)

MULTIPLE BRUISES AND CUTS

Post Captain Andor’s bacta treatment to heal the initial wounds, doctors were able to asses the severity of his injuries. Several surgeries were performed to rest Captain Andor’s bones into correct placement, and more bacta treatments were issued. After a week of observation in the medical bay, it was determined that Captain Andor is no longer fit for field duty, due to a handicap developed from his spinal injury, causing his left leg to no longer fully function, leaving Captain Andor unable to run and barely able to walk. It is recommended by Captain Andor’s supervising medical professionals that he is to be kept strictly to desk work/being kept on a rebel base. Field duty would result in Captain Andor’s death due to his inability to escape.

-Doctor Daemora Amon

Cassian never stayed still for very long; it started when he was just a child, always being on the move and fighting from such a young age, it only intensified as he grew older and joined the Rebellion, becoming one of the best spies for their cause. Being on the move was his entire life, and after Scarif, everyone told him it could no longer be part of his life, after only twenty-six years, now he couldn’t go out into the field. Now, he was trapped at the base, with all the other stuffy senators and bureaucrats that claimed to be “part of the cause” but really only sat behind desks day in and day out, sending the real soldiers out into the field to die for them. He hated every second of his new life, trapped on the new and freezing cold Echo Base on the ice planet of Hoth, left with nothing but files to go through and sign off on with his brand new title of Major. Everyone else was going out and making a difference, Cassian was sitting at the base, ordering operatives out into the field and signing off on shipments that arrived at the base.

The doctors stuffed him with every kind of sleeping pill and anti-depressants they could think of to keep him happy and help him sleep through his nightmares that never went away, they worked for a while, or at least they kept him in a haze long enough to just accept his fate. They still gave him the pills though Cassian refused to take them, instead he busied himself with trying to rebuild his ever faithful companion - Kaytoo - who was the only one from the Rogue One team who didn’t make it back in one piece. Jyn had found a droid that was Kay’s exact model not that long after she was cleared for field duty, after she decided to stay with the Rebellion and they gave her the title of Sergeant; Cassian had Kay’s memory backed up and kept hidden away, the droid always insisting on keeping it up to date, so the memory was last updated just before they landed on Scarif. It was just a matter of putting all the pieces together, making sure the parts that had burnt out the original droid could be replaced and repaired for Kay when he came back, he hoped he could finish him soon so he had someone to talk to again.

Today, he was out by the central control room, filtering through forms and papers on his data pad, a headache creeping up on him for staring at the damn thing for so long. There wasn’t much else for him to do around the base today, and from how unbearingly quiet it was, he was about ready to head back to his quarters and try to get some sleep, until the alarm for the bunker doors went off - indicating that someone was coming back from a mission and into the base. He didn’t have anything better to do, and he wasn’t quite sure anymore who was scheduled to come back when, so he hobbled his way out there, holding onto the rails when he could and trying to ignore the pitying glances from others that he always seemed to get. Cassian made it there as soon as the doors were closing up again, still more than enough snow making it’s way into the base in the short amount of time. While many things failed to make him smile anymore, the sight of his friends coming back from their mission was enough to make him crack a small grin.

Baze and Chirrut were the first off the ship, Chirrut still wearing his robes and seemingly unaffected by the cold weather of the base, more than likely still warm from their mission to Sullust while Baze still donned his heavy attire. Bodhi was next, already wrapped up in jackets to deal with the cold of the base, though seeming to be his usual cheerful self. Jyn was last, that familiar scowl on her face with her layers of clothing and jacket wrapped around her. She hated the cold almost as much as Cassian hated being stuck at the base, it was almost entertaining sometimes to see her deal with the new climate of the base, her having grown up on warmer planets almost all her life. It didn’t take long for her to notice him, her scowl softening and almost the hint of a smile on her lips now; Cassian wasn’t exactly sure what there was between them, but something changed after Scarif, and he was sure it was something for the better.

A few words to Bodhi later and she cut her way through the crowd, heading over to Cassian and stopping right in front of him, her green gaze up and locked onto his. Wordlessly, she reached for something from her back pocket and handed a data chip to him.

“Found it on a dead trooper, it seemed important, it lists some of their bases we don’t have on record.” Jyn explained, Cassian taking the chip and putting it into his pocket now.

“I’ll look over it later.” Cassian assured her. “Did everything else go smoothly?”

“Aside from the usual of being shot at, yeah, it was fine.” Jyn nodded. “How are you holding up?”

“Me?” Cassian asked confused. “I sit in this base all day, nothing really changes except for the medication they try to give me.” He grumbled.

“Alright, well, what about Kay? How far along is he?” Jyn asked trying to change the subject, sensing his hostility that he didn’t mean to unleash on her.

“He just needs a new processor and he’ll be running again.” Cassian said calmly, trying to keep himself together, Jyn wasn’t responsible for what happened to him or for him getting stuck on desk duty, she didn’t deserve his anger.

“Have you tried the physical therapy yet?” Jyn asked curiously.

It had been offered to him a few weeks ago now that all his wounds were technically healed completely. He turned it down when it was offered, not seeing much point in doing so when there was no chance of him returning to the field, but with the way his back and shoulder were hurting him now due to the extreme cold, he was considering trying it just for the sake of letting his muscles get some stretching.

“No, haven’t made it over there yet, I’ve been busy.” Cassian lied, he hadn’t, he just hadn’t actually made his way over to the med bay since it was on the opposite side of the base, and taking just a few steps was an achievement for him. The last thing he wanted was for those dreaded pitiful glances to turn into offers for help to walk with him over to the med bay.

“I’ll go with you out there tomorrow after my patrol.” Jyn assured him. “You hungry? I’m starving.”

“I guess something to eat would be nice.” Cassian shrugged.

“Come on, let’s go then.” Jyn grabbed his arm and started guiding him through the base.

Cassian used to try and resist her embraces like this when he first started walking around, thinking she was taking pity on him like everyone else in the base, until one day she outright said “If I let you walk by yourself, you’ll take too long”. He didn’t know if she just made that up as an excuse to actually help guide him, or if she was genuinely that impatient, either way, something about Jyn made the whole process of limping around the base slightly less embarrassing when she was at his side.

Jyn was used to dealing with someone injured that was too stubborn to ask for help, she grew up with Saw after all who, by the time she was sixteen, was more machine than man. Cassian was no different on the stubborn front, from the day he was discharged from the med bay, he insisted on walking by himself, snapping at the med droids and anyone who made a move to help him when he looked like he was about to fall. He tried the same with her when she offered help, he acted like a wounded animal - snapping and hissing at whoever came near it in attempts to protect himself - but Jyn saw through his bullshit; besides, her bark was bigger than his bite and eventually that finally sank into his thick skull. She wasn’t going to baby him or anything like that, she wasn’t even going to try and attempt that, she still treated him like Cassian, he was still her commanding officer, and he was still a part of the Rogue One team; you help people out on your team where you can.

When she came back to the table, Jyn placed the tray of food she got for Cassian in front of him, seeming to startle him out of whatever haze he’d drifted into while she was gone. Between the dark circles under his eyes and how dull his dark brown eyes seemed today, she knew he must have been having nightmares again, and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wasn’t taking his sleeping pills anymore.

“Nightmares again?” Jyn asked.

“Same one, there’s only the one.” Cassian sighed, grabbing a fork and pushing around the food on his plate, not seeming to be interested in eating any of it.

“Scarif?” Jyn asked again, she had nightmares about that place still too, no matter how hard she tried to forget it.

“Yeah.” He mumbled in reply.

Jyn wasn’t sure what his nightmare of the place was about, she imagined it was his near death on the planet, but there were so many nightmarish sights to see on Scarif during their escape that it could have been more than that. Her nightmare consisted of Krennic killing Cassian, of him seeing him coming and shooting him down once and for all before he could reach her. That evil man making her watch Cassian’s death over and over again, before finally taking mercy on her and killing her himself to collapse at Cassian’s side, their mission failed and the galaxy doomed. She never told him what her nightmare was, she figured it would have sounded like something else, that it would have been a gateway into them talking about the bond they developed or that tension they felt in the elevator to their escape where their lips almost touched - no, no, she had to stop thinking about that.

“So, uhm...how’s your back?” Jyn asked lamely, thinking up nothing else to discuss. “I know you said it’s been hurting you a lot more with the cold.”

“It’s fine.” Cassian nodded, glancing at her briefly before looking down at his food again.

“You think you can still spar?” Jyn asked curiously, if there was one thing that could get them out of the awkward lull of their conversation, it was fighting - or rather talking about fighting in this case.

Something in his eyes lit up when he looked at her now, and Jyn knew she finally hit a topic that Cassian actually wanted to talk about. “I haven’t tried yet, but I’m sure I can.” He smirked, he was presenting her with a challenge, and she was more than ready to accept it.

“Alright then, Major.” Jyn lingered on his new title for a moment, it didn’t have the same ring as Captain Andor, but something about saying it still gave Jyn a rush she couldn’t describe. “Tomorrow after I get back from my patrol, we’ll see about physical therapy for you, and then we’ll see if I can still kick your ass in the ring.”

“I seem to recall me being the better fighter.” Cassian challenged her.

“Oh that concussion must have really messed with your head if you think that’s the case.” Jyn laughed, a genuine laugh, she’d been trying to let herself experience more of those lately, and while Bodhi was pretty good at getting her to laugh at his horrible jokes, Cassian tended to bring them out of her as well. “I won’t take it easy on you.” She warned him.

“Good, I don’t expect you to. If you do, I could have you grounded here at the base for a few days.” Cassian said, he often complained about his title, but now Jyn had the strange feeling that he was enjoying it.

“You brought it on yourself, just remember that tomorrow.” Jyn smirked.

For the first time in a long time, Cassian started the day feeling good. His back didn’t hurt him as much, he was able to walk a bit smoother, he even said good morning to a few people around the base - it was almost as if her were a different man, just because someone was going to treat him like a normal human being today. Then again, it wasn’t just anyone, it was Jyn, and she always treated him as if nothing were really wrong with him to be honest, but something about knowing that for a while today he’d have her undivided attention - it made him just a bit happier. Jyn was due back from her patrol any minute now, Cassian finding any reason he could to linger by the hanger doors, and as soon as the alarm sounded for them opening up, his heart beat just a bit faster while he fought a smile back off his lips.

That swiftly vanished when he saw just Han Solo returning on a Tauntaun, him holding up Jyn’s unconscious body in front of him and her Tauntaun nowhere to be found.

“Get medics over here now, she’s hurt!” Solo called out through the hanger, one of the younger cadets taking off running while Cassian rushed over to the scene as quickly as he could, his whole world feeling like it was falling apart at the sight of Jyn unconscious, he skin as pale as the snow hanging onto her coat.

“What happened?” Cassian asked right away, grabbing Jyn as Han slowly handed her down to him, Cassian catching her in his arms and holding her close, hoping she’d get some of his warmth.

“Something out there in the snow attacked her Tauntaun, it bucked up and tossed her off before it crushed one of her legs, it might have hit her ribs too, I don’t know. She’s been knocked out since then.” Han quickly explained as he dismounted his Tauntaun and someone escorted the beast off.

Before Han could explain the situation any further, medics and a med droid made their way over to Cassian, the droid placing Jyn gently down on the gurney they brought with them before rushing her off; the medics already taking scans of her to figure out the problem.

“Might help if you’re there when she wakes up.” Han added. “She was mumbling something about you before she passed out entirely.”

Cassian gave him a brief nod before he mustered up as much strength as he could, running for the first time since his injury, all the way to the medical bay to make sure Jyn would be alright.

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

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