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ruby-red-inky-blue · 6 months

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A rundown of my TWTaS writing playlist because I cannot be stopped

this will no doubt be the longest post I've ever made about this fic so strap in:

general atmosphere/plot songs:

El Tango De Los Assassinos (yes, from Mr&Mrs Smith)

This was my mood setting for Jyn and Cassian in the early chapters, especially the rooftop scene in chapter 9.

Runaway by The National

This is a sad and gentle backdrop that I pictured being played in Baze's diner in the first half of the fic a lot.

The Boys of Summer (live) by The Hooters

This is here largely because I have been trash for this song since I was thirteen and it has a lot of Yearning in it. Let's say it could also be playing in the diner, that would make sense to me.

Starlight by Muse

this was maybe the first song I ever saw on a rebelcaptain edit (it was this one by @proinsiascassidy) and it has sparked my ongoing obsession with them and starlight - the word, the concept, stargazing, everything. Therefore, it had to be on here, even though I feel like it's an outlier musically.

St Jude by Florence + The Machine

This has EXACTLY the peaceful, suspenseful, sorrowful, hopeful vibes this ship needs especially in this setting, and it is addressed to "St Jude, the patron saint of the lost causes" so. yeah.

Never Let Me Go by Florence + The Machine

This is a big Depression song, and this fic is Depressed, so it works for both of them equally. The water/ocean theme and the chorus of "never let me go" feels much more Jyn than Cassian to me, but the Overt Christian Overtones make a lot of sense for Cassian and "the crushes of heaven for a sinner like me" is. come on.

Lithium Sunset by Sting

Listen this song is literally about antidepressants what do you want me to tell you.

Between Two Lungs

This is as triumphant and cheesy as the playlist gets, folks. They're in love! And they want to live, goddamnit!

Sunday Bloody Sunday by U2

Somehow several songs about the Irish Troubles ended up in this fic that is 100 percent not about that (although I picture Lyra's father as someone who was Involved in the Troubles, but this doesn't factor into the story enough to explain it and I think I came up with it because of the playlist).

Character and relationship themes:

Shallow by Lady Gaga & Bradley Cooper

Look I wish I could roll my eyes at this song but unfortunately the lyrics are perfect for this fic in every way and I gotta respect that. The singers should be reversed for this fic but. Yeah sorry the lyrics are really good.

Bridge Over Troubled Water by Johnny Cash

To counteract the unhealthy vibes of most of the other songs on here, here's a sweet, peaceful song about selfless devotion and helping and comforting each other, because that is also a part of how I see this ship. It's also another song I definitely think was playing at the diner. Actually I think I actively hinted at it once. (Edit: I sure did! Chapter 26)

The Only Hope For Me Is You by My Chemical Romance

Listen. Desert vibes. Starts with echoes of "remember me". It's comparatively aggressive and very heavy on the war metaphors (that may not be metaphors). It's kind of perfect.

Summertime by My Chemical Romance

from the same album, same vibes. Very apocalyptic but in a hopeful way? They're throwing bricks and promising to run away together. This is a no-brainer.

Song for Someone by U2

This may be THE rebelcaptain song. It's devastating and so full of baggage but it's so tender and so hopeful and I will champion this song as their anthem until I die.

Work Song by Hozier

Is this a song about deep, deeply unhealthy, heartfelt devotion? Does it contain the Classically Rebelcaptain lines "When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth/ no grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"? I rest my case.

I'm Not the One by 3OH!3

This works so so well for both Jyn and Cassian, it's like a conversation between their younger selves, and also I really drew on this for all those moments where they see themselves and their screwed-up childhoods in each other.

Man in Black by Johnny Cash

This is Draven. Straight up in my head Draven is always wearing black and this song is why.

Firefly Theme by Sonny Rhodes

This is clearly Bodhi, and it's perfect.

Brothers In Arms by Dire Straights

This plays in Bodhi's backstory for me. Because it's a War Trauma song I guess, but also because it has this heavy, heavy sense of loss of friends, of innocence, of self. It's so heartbreaking, and it's so gentle and quiet and deceptively peaceful.

Solsbury Hill (live) by Peter Gabriel

Culturally this makes NO sense but this is my go-to-Chirrut song. It's spiritual and uplifting and it is just so deeply comforting to me.

Fields of Gold by Sting

So this makes even less sense both culturally and lyrics-wise, but it feels like Baze to me. I cannot explain this.

River Lea by Adele

I could quote this entire thing this is TWTaS Jyn in a nutshell

Raised By Wolves by U2

This is a very Jyn song to me. It is bleak but it's defiant and I think it makes a lot of sense as her starting point.

21 Guns by Green Day

God I love this song. It's perfect for them in every way my god. This fandom should be full of Green Day songs. This song works so well for Cassian especially early on in the fic, and I think it really gets the vibe so right.

Golden by Fall Out Boy

This is so so Cassian and his horrible self-esteem and his self-imposed isolation for the sake of others.

You Found Me by The Fray

Since this is, once again, Overtly Complicatedly Religious, it feels very Cassian. This song is so so bitter and I feel like that makes a lot of sense for Cassian re: faith and life and everything.

The Unforgiven by Metallica

This is the Very Bleak Backdrop for young Cassian's disillusionment arc/downward spiral, so like mid-teens to his undercover op. It also works for Draven, which is neat and very sad.

All Eyes On Me by Bo Burnham (yes)

This song is so bleak and so trance-like in the absolute worst most viscerally depression-like way. This is a song for someone who is SO close to just giving up, with the faintest of cries for help left ("hands down, pray for me"). This is for Cassian at nineteen or twenty, alone and spiralling and vaguely dissociating. It's bad and this song is so good and so upsetting to me.

Zombie by The Cranberries

More Troubles music. A very good song, deeply heartbreaking.

Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day

This song straight up is why everything bad that ever happened to Cassian happened in September. There is no way to convince me this song is not perfect for this character in every way.

Any Other World by MIKA

Welcome to more bitterness and self-effacing nonsense, because again, I can't be stopped.

Der Weg by Herbert Grönemeyer

The last third of this song makes SOB. It's a song all about the horrible grief that comes with losing someone way too soon, and about learning to live with it. It's so fucking sad on its own merit, and it does work scarily well for Cassian and the memories of his family. Hell, you can split those lines up for each of them perfectly, and it ends with one of the saddest loveliest lines in the world, this song is A Lot: "Habe dich sicher in meiner Seele/ Ich trag' dich bei mir bis der Vorhang fällt" (I keep you safely within my soul/ I'll carry you with me until the courtain falls)

What A Catch, Donnie by Fall Out Boy

This is for Cassian ("I got troubled thoughts and the self esteem to match", "they say the captain goes down with the ship/so when the world ends, will god go down with it?" and all that), but mostly for Cassian and his father, for these lines: "I will never end up like him/ behind my back I already am"

Leningrad by Billy Joel

This makes absolutely zero sense for this fic and emphatically should not be on here but the first stanza is giving me inexplicable Cassian-and-his-dad vibes.

24 Frames by Jason Isbell

Due to the lyrics, this is obv very much Cassian and his mother and brother, but really his whole family. Also a whole lot of bitterness against God, see above. (It's also a holdover from the glorious Cassian playlist that Disney has since retconned so there's that)

It's Time by Imagine Dragons

I don't know how I landed on this but it actually works So Well for baby Cassian who is already disillusioned but also still very very naive about how much change and revenge he can affect. And it illustrates the rift between him and Gael so nicely. It catches the whole unhealthy song and dance of "you might change and you should get out of here but I never will and so I have to stay and let this place kill me". I feel insane for reading this sentiment into this song but I truly think it's there?

Stay by Hurts

This song is super fucking cheesy and very on the nose but it's here for a single line that fucking breaks me re: Cassian and Gael every time: "And I wonder if you know/ how it feels to let you go"

Hurt by Johnny Cash

I'm making this whole list partially so I get to scream about how much real estate this undefined relationship has taken up in my head, and yes, that includes Hurt playing on a loop whenever I think about them. This is fully Cassian anywhere between becoming a cop and meeting Jyn (and starting therapy lol) to Gael, I mean, it has it all. It's A Lot, but it's so on brand.

How to Save a Life by The Fray

Yes, it's The Song From Every TV Drama! Once again, is it overplayed and cheesy by proxy? Kinda! Is it perfect for this fic? Yes! This is Gael for most of his adult life re: Cassian, probably. Like, the man did what he could and he got out when he had to but knowing the person that once meant most to you in the world is killing themselves by a thousand cuts somewhere and does not want you to save them is just about the worst feeling I can imagine and this song is as close as I got to that.

Objects In The Rearview Mirror May Appear Closer Than They Are by Meat Loaf

Again, very very specific and pretty on the nose, but the first stanzas of this song are so very accurate to what I had in my head that I feel I couldn't write Gael grieving for Cassian much better. With the flashback to little boys getting into hijinks and running around and such hope for the future and then "I can still recall the sting of all, the tears when he was gone/ they said he crashed and burned/ I know I'll never learn/ why any boy should die so young"?? and also "There are times I think I see him peeling out of the dark/ I think he's right behind me now and he's gaining ground" GOD.

Whatsername by Green Day

I needed to know what Gael's headspace was so I could write him in not-a-flashback-time and it's. It's Whatsername. It's all stages of grief and it's a bit of a breakup song and also the first lines feel so real to me, anything that mentions thinking you saw someone you know but then it wasn't them is giving me OC feels now, as seen above. And Whatsername has the absolute perfect balance between "this killed me but I've put it behind me" and "this person will haunt me until the day I die". I love this song.

Not on the playlist but there in spirit:

Slipping Through My Fingers by ABBA

Because this OC lives rent-free in my head, I have a song for him and his oldest daughter that makes me cry. I'm assuming this is normal.

Not in Nottingham by Mumford & Sons

This would 100 000 % be on here if it were on Spotify. To my continued horror, it isn't. It would round out this collection of sad, hopeless songs nicely and it is also near and dear to my heart due to being from maybe The most formative movie of my childhood.

The Scientist by Coldplay

This is the be-all-end-all Galen and Jyn song and I will never budge from this. It doesn't really factor into this fic but again, it's here in spirit.

#i don't know who i'm making this post for but maybe it will interest someone?#the world through a scope #music

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shadowglens · 1 year

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Where was Portia during the battle on Scarif? 👀

Send me an episode/chapter/scene/ect. and I’ll tell you what my OC was doing during it

being a coward. cassian had offered for her to come with them, had known it was a suicide mission but had still found her in the shadows of yavin and asked if she'd help fight the empire one last time, and portia had refused. she hadn't been brave enough to die with him, and had instead watched him and jyn fly off to their certain dooms without having even said goodbye.

her fear and anger and hatred about the whole situation had eventually boiled over though, and she'd stolen a fighter on yavin and flown out on the fringes of the fleet to scarif just as the battle had reached it's head. she saw the death star appear in her periphery, saw the beam, saw vader's ship arrive, saw the shock wave devastate the base. it wasn't until the rebel frequencies were overcome with panic as the fleet tried to escape vader that she punched the hyperdrive and ran away, leaving the rebels to their fates.

she ended up cutting the hyperdrive halfway to whatever coordinates she'd entered, and sat drifting in her stolen fighter with the weight of cassian's death hanging over her (and jyn's, and saw's) for what felt like hours, before getting herself together and continuing on to her destination.

#oc tag #ch: portia zhaori #tysm!!!!#she definitely goes awol for a while in the direct aftermath of scarif #before eventually crawling back to the rebellion because she's sick of being haunted by cassian's ghost telling her to stop being a coward #and also benthic reaches out and manages to convince her to help him rebuild the partisans into something better

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dinathalawriter · 1 year

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This is fucking incredible, and well, close to what I wrote...

In order to punish Galen for not choosing him over Lyra, Krennic seduces and marry Jyn. Use the characters from catalyst.

Galen Erso had always known that Director Krennic was a dangerous man, but he never could have imagined the lengths to which he would go to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was Galen, no matter the cost.

It had all started years before, when Krennic and Galen had first met. Krennic had been drawn to Galen's brilliance, his mind a treasure trove of knowledge that Krennic coveted for the Empire's grand plans.

But when Galen chose to marry Lyra instead of throwing his lot in with Krennic, something inside Krennic snapped. He saw it as a personal betrayal, a rejection that he could not forgive.

So he bided his time, waiting for the moment when he could strike back at Galen in the most devastating way possible. And that moment came when Galen's daughter Jyn came of age.

Jyn was a strong and independent young woman, with a fire in her eyes that reminded Krennic of Lyra. He saw in her the opportunity to punish Galen for not choosing him over her mother.

He courted Jyn with all the charm and sophistication he could muster, promising her a life of luxury and power as his wife. And to Galen's horror, Jyn fell for it.

Before he knew it, Krennic and Jyn were married, and Galen was powerless to stop it. He watched in horror as Krennic took his daughter away, using her as a pawn in his own twisted game.

As he worked on the Death Star project, Galen could feel the weight of Krennic's betrayal heavy on his shoulders. He had failed to protect his daughter, failed to see the danger that lay ahead.

But even as he grieved, Galen knew that he had to find a way to stop Krennic and the Empire. He would do whatever it took to protect Jyn, to make sure that she didn't suffer the same fate as her mother.

And as he looked up at the Death Star plans spread out before him, Galen knew that he had a chance to do just that. He would sabotage the project from the inside, using his brilliance to destroy the Empire's greatest weapon.

It was a dangerous game, but Galen was willing to play it. For Jyn, for Lyra, and for the entire galaxy.

#jynnic #galennic #seduction #married krennic #krennic is gay #chatgpt #dark

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mari-beau · 3 years

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GIVE ME A REASON: PART FOUR - A Rogue One Fanfic

So this part/scene got a little out of control. Ironically, since I only had the base idea of when it would take place until I started writing it. You can also find/read this story on AO3 now.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part Four

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: Some sappiness?

Words: 2,978

Story Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

Also can be found on AO3.

...

“Ms. Erso, it is time for you to vacate the infirmary.”

Jyn jerked, jarred from sleep and reaching for the knife she no longer had on her person. Her situation settled back around her surfacing consciousness, calming her immediate fight-or-flight response but keeping her on edge.

“No,” she told the medical orderly droid. “I already told the doctors, medical staff and you lot that I’m not leaving Captain Andor. I don’t want him to wake up alone.”

“Yes. You were most clear regarding your intransigence, Ms. Erso.”

Droids had the worst attitudes. Shouldn’t med ones be programmed with a better bedside manner?

“But the bed is needed,” the droid went on when she just wanted it to go away so she could wallow in the overwhelming mix of emotions drowning her; loss, guilt, relief. “There are numerous incoming casualties from a skirmish in the Za’dan sector.”

Jyn scowled, but didn’t budge.

“What difference does it make if I leave? It’s not like I’m taking up an extra bed.” As if to prove her point, she shifted closer to Cassian in the infirmary cot, making her already petite body take up even less room.

“Captain Andor is to be processed for discharge. So you will keep your superfluous vow that he won’t wake up alone. Even though he wouldn’t be alone anyway. There are medical staff and med-droids present.”

Jyn was too alarmed by the droid’s revelation to mind the griping typical to its type.

“You’re discharging him?!” Jyn shifted, pushing herself up to study the unconscious man.

How well she knew every bruise and injury visible and many hidden by the white medical tunic and pants. She’d passed out herself from exhaustion as they began treating her injuries, but as soon as she’d woken up, she’d bullied, threatened and pleaded until they brought her to Cassian, making her wait outside the operating room, only able to watch as they finished the surgeries and treatments. They’d let her curl up in a chair next to the Bacta tank they’d stuck him in afterward, and no one even questioned by the time he was relocated to an infirmary bed when she climbed in beside him.

She’d seen the bandages, bruises, burns and scars. And she knew how they’d changed as the hours, the days had passed. Barely days, just three days since Scarif. Were they insane? They were just going to turn him out, in his condition?

Apparently, they were.

The med-droid was already injecting him with something, and Cassian was rousing. Jyn’s heart beat faster and she practically held her breath, on her knees on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with anticipatory anxiety, clutching at her kyber crystal with one hand. His past few hours of sleep had been strained. He’d been unconscious but also tense, in pain. She’d felt it in the rigidity of his muscles, the periodic hitches in his breathing.

“Did you give him more meds for the pain, too?” she asked the droid. How could they ask him to get back on his feet when he was in so much pain just lying still?

“Yes. And the stimulant should keep him awake until he gets settled back into his quarters.”

Jyn sagged in relief slightly until Cassian came crashing back into reality with a gasp and a jerk, and bewildered, began to thrash. She threw herself on top of him, placing her hands on his shoulders to hold him down, hoping he wouldn’t hurt himself worse, but understanding how confused and frightened he must feel.

“Cassian, It’s Jyn.” As if that would make a difference to him, if he even remembered her upon waking from a days-long practically-a-coma, someone he’d only met far less than a week ago and since had suffered devastating traumas. “You’re safe. You’re on the rebel base on Yavin 4. In the infirmary.”

Almost instantly, he went still, calmed, like a switch had been thrown. But she supposed the man did have quick reflexes, was highly adaptable to various situations. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have made it so long as a rebel spy.

“Jyn?” His eyes found her face. They were a little glassy and unfocused but were still, well, captivating, dark, intelligent and expressive. “What happened?”

“We did it.” She shifted back to kneeling beside him, gave him a smile, a genuine one albeit bittersweet. They had succeeded in their mission, but at a tremendous cost. “The plans to the Death Star were received by the fleet.”

“Are they planning an attack?” Cassian pushed himself up to a sitting position, wincing and inhaling sharply, making Jyn picture the freshly healed surgical incisions that were doubtless strained by the movement.

“I…” Jyn had never thought to ask. The moment she realized they weren’t going to die on that beach, making sure Cassian survived had become her only concern. “I don’t know.”

“I should report to Command.” Cassian moved to get out of the infirmary bed, but Jyn stopped him, grabbing his arm to hold him back. She shimmied across the bed and hopped off it to stand in front of him.

“If they needed any more information or intel, they would’ve asked me.” It sounded plausible, even though if they’d tried it, she couldn’t rightly say she would’ve cooperated (they hadn’t listened to her the last time she tried to convince them of the truth), but especially if it meant leaving Cassian’s side. Even for a moment. How had someone else become her primary, her only concern, that she now cared only for his welfare? “And you’re not in any shape to help. Give yourself a little more time to heal.”

She reached for him as he was already trying to stand, stiffening and wobbling for a moment when he was fully upright. But Jyn would support him without him needing to ask, slid her arms around his waist and tucked her shoulder under one of his arms. He leaned into her, likely without even realizing it. From what Jyn could tell, Cassian was an independent sort of person, like herself, but unlike herself, was not too proud to accept help, being more of a team player than she ever had been.

His fingers went to pinch the bridge of his nose and his eyes squeezed shut. He took a long, deep breath, swaying a little.

“How far are your quarters from the infirmary?” she asked.

He sighed. That close, was it?

“Can you make it? If I help you?” Jyn looked around, but the droid had already stripped the bed and skittered off. She would go find whatever he needed for assistance because maybe he was a little proud, too, and had sacrificed a good portion of his independence by leaning on her. She waited, letting him decide, despite her wanting to wrap him up in soft warm blankets in a fluffy bed of pillows and keep him safe.

“Let’s try it. I should probably find out how bad the damage is sooner than later.” His expression had gone tight and unreadable, and her heart broke to think of the justified fear he must be feeling, that he may have suffered permanent damage that could affect the rest of his life, that might take away his purpose of serving the rebellion.

“They healed the blaster wound easily, but you’ve got an impressive scar,” she said as he took a tentative step, using her like a crutch, not questioning why or how she knew his wounds and medical diagnosis and treatments. “The fractures in your vertebrae and ribs probably haven’t completely knitted yet but the prognosis is good.”

Well, this wasn’t so bad. His weight was a burden making her own steps difficult, but Jyn didn’t begrudge it, not when it meant he was alive, and on his feet even. And they were already at the infirmary door. The medical staff hadn’t given them even a second look, but Jyn steeled herself for the possibility of stares as they entered the rest of the base. She couldn’t care less but these were Cassian’s fellow soldiers and he deserved their respect and not pity.

“They replaced your hip and part of your femur,” she said when they entered the hallway.

“Is that why it feels like I’ve been sliced open from my ribs down to my knee?”

“They sealed you back up.”

A light chuckle escaped him. “Things could be worse, then.”

They could, they really could. If Jyn were to make comparisons, it wasn’t just the fact that they hadn’t died on Scarif like it seemed they should’ve, but this situation she found herself in, saddled with a wounded spy (by her own choosing), on a rebel base, a Death Star out there somewhere in the galaxy… It was still the best place she’d been in since… Since she was abandoned by Saw at 16? Since her mother had died and her father had been taken?

Part of her that enjoyed the warmth of Cassian’s body beside hers, the feel of his wiry flank beneath her hand, the smell of his skin, even the weight of him he placed on her shoulders, that part proposed that this was the best situation, the best time in her entire life.

How pathetic did that make her?

She enjoyed dragging a severely wounded man around some giant old ruins half-reclaimed by the jungle converted to a military base… sort of base… The Alliance was so loosely confederated, everything seemed slapped together and piecemeal.

But hopefully the medical facilities had been up to par… They had seemed nicer than anything Jyn had ever experienced. But that wasn’t saying much at all.

“You need a minute?” she asked, finally realizing Cassian’s steps and breathing had become labored. She maneuvered him towards a wall and leaned up against it with him, nodding to a passing rebel soldier of indeterminable rank and unnotable appearance.

“Maybe it would’ve been better if you’d left me on Scarif,” he said, his voice low, quiet and pained as he almost-panted, sagging against the ancient stone wall.

“No,” she said. “You don’t mean that.”

“I was ready to die.”

She didn’t want to hear this. The meds and the strain were making him say things. She told him as much.

He shook his head.

“Listen to me, Jyn.”

What could she do? What could she say? That she didn’t want to hear how he valued his life so little, that he’d throw it away just for the slim chance of providing an opportunity for the rebellion to destroy some Imperial weapon, a terrifying one, but one weapon of many. She-

“I felt peace. For the first time in my life, probably.” His voice had gotten even lower and quieter, almost a whisper, wistful even. Jyn didn’t dare look at him, had to concentrate on breathing normally when she felt his fingers slip into her hand. It was easier to consider her unsolicited affection for the man when he was giving no indication of whether or not he returned it. “And I think it was because you were there. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I didn’t feel alone.”

Oh, Force. He was getting delirious, saying things that, from what she knew of him, he would never share even if he did feel them.

“Come on, let’s get you back to your own bed.”

He didn’t say anything else as they traversed several more halls, and Jyn wondered if she’d hurt his feelings by not responding to his raw, quiet confession. But he continued to lean on her without any hesitation and the silence between them felt comfortable. It was strange. He’d made her so tense in the beginning, the way he watched her, how secretive he was, so guarded. But somehow, somewhere along the way, she grew to not only feel comfortable with Cassian Andor, but to trust him as she’d never trusted anyone else before.

And she thought, maybe he trusted her in return. He followed her on a suicide mission, let her support his injured, vulnerable self on Scarif, let her drag him off that cursed planet, and now lead him across the rebel base, passing by people who really amounted to the only family he’d ever had.

There weren’t many, however. And none stopped. Or stared, too much. The med droid must have been right about the incoming survivors of the skirmish, everyone seemed a little rushed and mission-oriented. Or maybe there was more going on…

“Stop. Stop.”

Jyn immediately froze.

“Are you okay?” she asked, shifting beneath Cassian’s weight to try to get a good look at his face. “Do you need a break?”

“We’re home,” Cassian said, his eyelids sliding nearly shut before they shot open again.

“Oh,” Jyn said, ignoring the way something fluttered inside of her over his choice of words. “Which one?”

“Left side of the hall.” He indicated the door directly to their left with a nod of his head. The stimulant must be failing to combat the pain meds, and his body’s need to rest, to heal. Because he was getting heavier and more slack in her arms.

They staggered over to the door to his quarters and he was at least coherent enough to punch his code into the lock. His room was by no means large, barely larger than Jyn’s cell on Wobani. But at least he didn’t have a cellmate, er, bunkmate… Well, not officially…

She basically dumped him on the narrow bed, which he didn’t seem to mind at all, making a groaning sound of relief and taking several deep breaths, his legs hanging awkwardly off the side. Not knowing what else to do, she bent to lift his legs and slide them onto the bed, forcing him to lay down in a less uncomfortable position. She pulled the white slip-on infirmary shoes off his feet and tossed them in a corner, feeling only a flash of contrition over sullying the pristine room. It was so austere, even with two of the walls comprised of the old stone of the ancient temple. It could’ve been anyone’s quarters. No. That was wrong. It’s nondescriptness, everything hidden away in the meager storage units, only Cassian would keep his personal space in such a spartan manner.

“Cassian…?”

He mumbled something she took to imply he was listening and not passed out yet.

“Do you have extra bedding? A blanket or something?” She could do without. She had, many times. But it would be a little bit better than sleeping on the bare hard stone floor.

“No… Jungle moon… Already too hot… Why?”

“I was going to sleep here, if you don’t mind,” Jyn said. Why was this an awkward conversation to have? Why was she so afraid he’d say no, send her away? “On the floor.”

His eyes opened and that furrow formed between his brows as he studied her with a gaze that seemed to be having trouble focusing. But then he was scooching over until he was almost touching the wall.

“I think this is a nanometer larger than the infirmary cot,” he said. “What do you think?”

Jyn tried not to smile as she kicked off her own flimsy infirmary shoes and climbed onto Cassian’s bed to stretch out beside him. Something inside her sighed, content. She didn’t let it out.

“I don’t know…” she said. “But I guess if they made the infirmary beds nicer than the barracks, they’d have sick rebels all the time.”

A chuckle escaped through his nose.

“I don’t think they usually offer an ángel as a companion, either.”

“What?” Jyn shifted onto her side to study his face. His eyes were closed and he seemed content. The pain meds must be working.

“My mother was a believer in an Ancient Festian religion that worshipped a creator god. I don’t remember very many specifics...” Jyn didn’t dare breathe out, afraid of interrupting the story, softly spoken with hints of nostalgia, sharing a childhood memory, an intimacy she knew Cassian permitted, well, probably no one. “Except, there were these creatures that did the creator’s bidding, guiding people, aiding them, saving them… Angeles… I don’t know the word in Basic…”

He looked at her, and her apprehension about breaking the spell ebbed. Cassian knew full well who he was talking to, even if the pain meds had loosened his tongue, broken down the rigid walls he kept around his private self.

“I don’t know the word, either,” Jyn said. “I’’ve never heard of such creatures, mythical or otherwise.”

Cassian laughed, a soft little rumble that was accompanied by that rare smile of his that was brighter than a yellow dwarf sun and warmed her just as well. But, “What’s funny about that?”

“You…” His hand found hers, fingers sliding against her palm to curl around hers, engulfing her smaller hand. He shifted to face her, wincing a little, but his expression was soft if serious and . “Jyn, you saved me, guided me, are still coming to my aid… You’re my angelita…”

Oh, shit, he was so tired and drugged up he was becoming incoherent. Hopefully, he wouldn’t remember saying such emotional things- oh.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her knuckles, making her swallow a gasp of surprise, and fight the sigh when he held her hand to his chest as he lay back, his eyelids finally losing the battle and sliding shut.

Oh, Cassian…

“Don’t worship me,” she whispered to his sleeping form. “I’m nothing worth venerating.”

Of course, was she behaving any different when it came to him?

They were quite the mess, the two of them.

She wriggled her fingers in his hold until she was able to interlace them with his and feel the warmth of his palm against hers. Jyn closed her eyes, immersing herself in the quiet, safe moment.

#fic: give me a reason #Rogue One #fanfiction #rebelcaptain #cassian x jyn #Cassian Andor #Jyn Erso

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jngles · 3 years

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Thoughts You Definitely All Asked For on ‘The Mandalorian’ Season 2 Finale!!

These are in chronological order for the show.

One of my biggest fears about them reintroducing Boba Fett was that by removing some of his mystery, they would make him less cool. Thank god that has not been the case. He’s still an aloof and nasty piece of work but with dimensions added.

We all know the Empire is most often a metaphor for America right? At least when it’s not being Nazi Germany? The Imperial pilot talking about destroying an entire planet (of peaceful weaponless civilians no less) to stop terrorism hits a little too close to home of the nuclear bombs the US has dropped and the endless destruction of the Middle East in the “war against terror.” And of course we frame all our wars in similar language like “our troops died to keep our country safe,” which hasn’t really been true since WWII.

I do think it’s worth noting that this is the first time SW has had someone acknowledge the human losses of the Death Star blasts. Usually it’s framed as a loss in construction time, strategical advantage, and power. The Empire proved time and time again that the lives of its soldiers were utterly expendable, which always made me question why people remained loyal outside of fear. Through this pilot’s phrasing, you can see the propaganda Imperial superiors used to twist the truth to their followers, always blaming those deaths on Rebel aggression instead of prideful Imperial neglect (I.e. not abandoning ship when there was still time) or even direct Imperial aggression like Operation Cinder where they fired on thousands of their own (discussed in S2E7.)

You can’t tell me Din wasn’t into it when Cara shot that asshole pilot. That cold faced revenge shot? 100% Mandalorian style, and also very very hot.

I appreciate that it was a pretty equal match between Boba and Koska Reeves. So much of Boba’s advantage comes from his suit, but since she also has one, it’s a battle of wits on how to use it, and they even out. This both maintains his legendary badassery and also that of highly trained Mandalorian warriors, and hopefully avoids asshole chauvinist SW fans on the internet complaining abujt “pandering to feminism” (fuck off @ all of them, especially since Mercedes Vernado who plays Reeves is a WWE champ and could kick all of your asses.)

Din point blank asked how many Death Troopers there are and Dr. Pershing never answered, and that annoys me.

Why is no one suspicious why Dr. Pershing is being so helpful and revealing so much information? He totally did not have to tell them about the Dark Troopers or any of the specifics of locations on the ship. He’s still with the empire post-fall, implying he’s a loyalist, so... wtf on his part (since no tricks come of it), and “be smarter” on the part of everyone else. Unless he’s been captive as a clone engineer all this time. But couldn’t he have made his escape back in Season 1 when Din killed everyone at that lab to get the kid back?

Bo Katan really could’ve just told them how the retrieval of the dark saber needs to work in the flight before the mission instead of being vague about “he belongs to me.”

Boba Fett’s usage of “Princess” and “don’t worry about me” are a good throwback to Han Solo and the culture they both grew up in. You can never quite tell if it’s based in misogyny or resentment for upper classes, but both of them seem to use it as a shield for begrudging respect they hold for a woman they think is brave but following a fool’s errand (the Rebellion and retaking Mandalore).

The Comms Officer (Katy O’Brian) assisting Moff Gideon will forever and always look like Ilana Glazer to me, and then I get swept up imagining what would happen if the Broad City cast accidentally got transported to Star Wars.

The launch tube sequence has some amazing cinematography.

The second I saw Boba was cut off from the pack, I really thought they were going to kill him again and make his return bittersweet. Glad they didn’t.

God this team of Bo Katan, Koska Reeves, Fennec Shand, and Cara Dune is SO BADASS. I’m just obsessed with all these characters and their various motivations to get shit done. I honestly didn’t even think about the fact it’s all women until my re-watch, showing that the writers made it feel natural, the way women deserve to have their representation done. You can bet I am SO EXCITED for my future daughter and the wealth of possibilities she’s going to have of characters to play pretend as, action figures she can relate to, Halloween costumes to wear, etc. It’s so validating that we’ve gone from only Princess Leia as a female main character to all these women + Rey, Jyn Erso, Ahsoka, etc. etc.

Can’t wait for the trap remix of the Dark Trooper activation noises. (And the transition from that to the minimalist flute theme is perfect.)

The spy movie version of the main theme music is sick.

The Dark Trooper droid faces have a lot of similarity to Darth Vader’s mask. That callback is especially apparent when the one is literally lit from the inside with fire. He was already a martyr/legend to the Imperial remnants, Kylo Ren didn’t start the trend of ignoring his redemption.

Cara’s “excuse me” right before shooting up Stormtroopers is hilarious. Literally “can’t talk rn, doing hot girl shit and murdering space Nazis.”

Finally an Imperial ship got some frickin security cameras. Truly- the amount of times people just wander down hallways they’re not supposed to be in with no one being able to find them throughout the course of Star Wars is ridiculous when you think about the degree of surveillance our real life society carries out. I also love that this means The Mandalorian characters have also seen The Mandalorian.

The storytelling does such a service to Pedro Pascal and his already heroic efforts to portray emotion through a helmet. For example: Din easily could’ve killed the one stormtrooper outside Grogu’s cell much more efficiently, but instead, to show his absolute rage, they wrote in Din choking him out with a spear.

Moff Gideon would have been the BIGGEST pain in the ass in philosophy class. “Assume I know everything” my ass. I want to hear about his backstory (he would’ve been “coming of age” at the time of the Clone Wars) mostly just to hear about him getting bullied at school.

Smart move honestly, to try to tempt Din with the Mandalorian throne, given the Mandalorian power struggles of the past. Proud of our boy for keeping his priorities straight.

So has the blood from Grogu been transferred out of the ship and back to the remnant empire already, or do they have to find a new “donor” to help with building Snoke and Palpatine’s clones? Will they continue to go after him with Luke?

Lmao Din being so annoyed by Bo Katan being stringent about the tradition of winning the Dark Saber through combat is HILARIOUS, coming from a man who up until like a day ago hadn’t shown his face to a living being in decades.

The dark troopers can punch in blast doors but NOT Din’s helmet?? That’s a wild testament to beskar. Somehow that’s the comparison that sticks out to me, more even than its resistance to lightsabers.

This show works because of the cynicism of so many characters adding contrast to the moments of heart. Cara Dune is not a “fan” the way Rey was (for the record I love Rey, don’t come at her, it’s just different). Cara doesn’t see an X-Wing and go OMG THE REBELLION I LOVE THEM. She’s been through too much to believe in the magic saviourism of the “good guys,” and is instead thinking strategically when she, the one Rebel present, brushes off the usefulness of “one X-Wing.” The only positive things she seems to feel in battle situations are moments of relief and brief satisfaction in hurting the empire, with a dark knowledge that it will never make up for the hurt they did to her.

How do you keep a cloak hood on while fighting? Both from a technical standpoint (my hats fall off without me even having to move- is he expending force energy just to keep it on and look cool lol?) and also because idk, maybe it’s just me, but peripheral vision is helpful when surrounded by killer robots on a thin bridge above oblivion. I know his first lesson was to “see” through the force, but every resource helps, right?

Now that she has the ship, I wonder if Bo Katan can reprogram any salvageable Dark Troopers to help with retaking Mandalore?

There is nothing like seeing Luke’s fighting style, with its efficient choppiness and twinge of darkness. I always wonder how much is natural and how much is influenced by his first fights with Vader (that Skywalker diva flair). I love how they’ve advanced his technique but also kept him extremely “grey” here- like to straight up COMBUST a Dark Trooper takes some violent energy lol.

How tf is Moff Gideon alive after threatening Grogu’s life twice directly? That’s a wild testament to Din’s regard for Cara.

I love how seeing Luke slice through a bunch of murder droids like butter probably was a huge point in his favor for Din actually letting Grogu go with him. Like he will only send his child to boarding preschool if he knows the teacher will be a certified killing machine.

Oh my god they finally brought in some OG Star Wars theme music for Luke to take his hood off to 😭 It felt weird seeing him fight to different music, so the emotional payoff is huge when his themes come back for the face reveal.

Whoever added the digital young Mark Hamill face NAILED those classic shining Luke eyes and the earnest eyebrow lift.

Whoever shines the glass of Baby Yoda’s lil puppet eyeballs each day deserves a raise. The light caught in those babies is devastating.

Din is shaking as he takes off his helmet. This is the most enormous show of love he could give him, and possibly the last he’ll be able to for a long time. He only just got Grogu back and is desperate for a moment of real connection before letting him go once again.

This is the first time anyone has touched Din’s face since... likely his parents as a child.

Whoever wrote this scene clearly actually has kids. Anyone who’s ever had to leave a young child even just to go out for a bit or to drop them off somewhere knows that heartbreak of seeing them look in your eyes and hold on to your leg, trying to keep you with them. Especially when they can sense your mutual separation anxiety. The one thing that starts to make them feel better is something fun like a new toy or friend who can be their guide in the new environment, and R2’s friendly introduction is exactly that (since digital Luke isn’t being particularly emotive or child friendly... I hope that’s just because he’s reaching into Grogu’s mind while also keeping an eye on the multiple people with guns trained on him, not because he’s going to be totally unfeeling raising this kid.)

I love that Grogu and R2 are immediately buddies in contrast to Episode 5 when R2 was like “fuck this guy” @ Yoda stealing food and hitting him with a walking stick lol. I would imagine Luke must be reminded of that first introduction too and entertained by this display of playfulness in a *positive* light between R2 and mini-Yoda.

I need to know if Luke and Ahsoka have met- it is KILLING ME.

Does this mean Grogu will get killed by Kylo Ren when he fucks up Luke’s academy??? I will reincarnate Ben just to kill him again if that’s the case.

How does Luke not even fully SMILE at Grogu?? An adorable little baby version of his beloved master Yoda, and you’re telling me he doesn’t have the same heart stopping gasp we all did when we first saw him?? Maybe he did when they first connected through the force. He has a bit of bemusement on his face, and also wonder in his eyes, but I want a grin of recognition and welcome, dammit.

I really wish Luke had somehow acknowledged Cara Dune. Everyone else seems to see the tear drop Rebel sign and know it means Alderaan. He could’ve been like yo I have a badass warrior sister from your planet that you should meet. Or just “thank you for your service.” (I know this actually wouldn’t have been cinematically good but my heart wants it.)

Luke didn’t tell Din his name?? Or ask for any details about the kid and his care?? I could literally never let my kid go with someone, regardless of how worthy, and not be like, “Excuse me sir who are you and where tf are you taking my tiny beloved green goblin in case I need to find him? Here is my contact info. He likes to eat frogs and eggs, and he can have macarons as a treat. He’s 50 years old and his favorite toy is still a ball. Bedtime is 8pm and he’s allergic to dairy.”

Another reason I wish Luke had identified himself would be to see the mishmash of reactions that would ensue. Cara would be like DAMN IT’S THAT GUY WHO BLEW UP THE DEATH STAR AND KILLED THE EMPEROR, ACT COOL (and she would indeed act cool). Fennec would be like ugh it’s that guy who helped kill my best paying client Jabba the Hutt and then fucked over my boss Boba, I helped save the kid for THIS? And I would LOVE to know how Bo Katan feels about him, assuming she’s heard of him, and especially if she knows he’s Anakin Skywalker’s son. That confusion is probably the reason WHY the writers didn’t have him reveal himself- they didn’t want to break the emotion of the scene.

Let‘s all be real I’m just being needy about wanting things from Luke because of what he meant to me as a kid and my resulting innate need to have more canon of him, whatever it is, whenever I can get it. Especially in this form that’s so similar to ROTJ, a movie I watched on endless repeat. Even getting this was incredible though. Who else could we trust this lil heart-stealing green bean with so fully? Yet who would be so arrogant as to try to train a baby yodling (see: Ahsoka’s wise refusal)?

R2 is reckless as hell lmao. Not that we don’t already know that, but for him to just head on in, effectively abandoning Luke’s ship (how can they know if there are more troopers or not who might blow it up?) and also putting himself in the path of the ridiculously deadly Dark Troopers is NUTS. I’m usually on his side but he absolutely deserves a scolding by C3PO for this one.

I wonder if Grogu has any memories of R2 or vice versa since they did occupy the Jedi Temple at the same time. Can Grogu understand droids? They could swap stories about mutual acquaintances.

Does Din pretty much have to go with Bo Katan now since a) he’s shown his face and may not be able to go back to the Watch, and b) because he has the darksaber and has to figure out how to get it back to her without dying?

How in the hell did Bib Fortuna (whose chins age was not kind to) go from being butler to being boss? Were all the henchmen just like, “Fuck yeah, no Hutt parents no rules, let’s do what we want!!” And then they’ve spent the last ten years living off of whatever money they could salvage from Jabba’s non-banked wealth? Why has no one challenged them for that prime real estate and loot? I would love to hear that story.

Fennec Shand says “respect sex workers” so you better fuckin’ do it.

Idk dude Bib Fortuna really was a good butler, and he seemed pretty willing to comply with whoever’s in power. Did he screw Boba over in his attempt to return from the dead and earn that killing shot somehow? Or was this to make sure there was no one left who would have a claim to loyalty? Or maybe Boba just really wanted to sit in that chair.

Does “The Book of Boba Fett” mean we’re not on Din Djarin’s story anymore? Or is it a new show? I would much prefer the latter. I want to see Din help retake Mandalore or at least get a hug.

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felagund-fiollaigean · 3 years

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Peace like a river (always going, never getting)

A Jedi: Fallen Order fanfic.

5k words of child soldier angst, fluff, hugs, an 8-year-old Jyn Erso discovering her penchant for inflicting blunt force trauma, a jam session around a campfire with Space Booze, and Merrin and Cal finding a moment of respite to feel young and carefree, taking comfort in each other after a traumatizing lifetime of raw survival.

Read it here or under the cut!

Saw and his rebel band could be uptight and overzealous sometimes, but they sure knew how to throw a party.

They were in the middle of one of the most isolated forests of Corvus, where they had earlier cleaned out an Imperial munitions plant. There had already been so much devastation wrought to the moon’s forests, but it was a big win nevertheless, and Saw had insisted in a rare magnanimous display that the crew of the Mantis join him and his partisans for some revelries. A massive bonfire had been lit with the flammable remnants of the factory they had scrapped. Saw’s motley crew was in high spirits tonight, exchanging drinks and jokes and puffs from a t’bac bowl.

Cere had brought her hallikset down with her, and was joined by a Weequay on a Sriluurian fiddle. The two had gathered a small audience of rebels enthusiastically shouting requests for this song or another, singing along raucously if obliged. Greez had gotten roped into a game of dice with a trio of drop troopers, and Cal was keeping a careful eye on the game to make sure the pile of credits in the center wasn’t getting too big. BD-1 had strayed from his perch on Cal’s shoulder to explore, making his rounds around the fire to meet everyone and scan everything in sight. He catches a glimpse of Merrin across the fire, nodding along to what one of the rebels was telling her about and tapping her foot along with the music.

Cal's managed to get himself pleasantly tipsy. The alcohol he's consumed so far has him feeling warm and loose and lighter than he's felt in a long time. There's no shortage of friendly conversation to be found either, and his status as the resident Jedi is making him fairly popular among Saw’s band. Cal doesn’t mind the attention, personally. So far no one has asked invasive questions like “So what was the clones' betrayal like for you, Cal?” or “You were only a padawan during the purge, right Cal?” or “How does it feel to be the last survivor of your order, Cal?”

The mood is celebratory and relaxed, and Cal is happy to forget about all the atrocities in the galaxy for a while with the rest of them.

He's distracted momentarily when he discovers that BD-1 had made a new friend. A human girl around eight years old, cheeks still round from baby fat and an oversized flak helmet on her head, fawning over the small droid. Cal studies her closer. He didn’t see her during the fighting (and thank the Force for that, at least this child didn’t have to grow up a soldier like he and his friends did), but she's the only child he's seen so far among Saw’s party. Struck by curiosity, he makes his way around the circle of flames and sits down on the damp grass next to her.

“Hey.”

She doesn't look up from where she's fiddling with the antenna on top of BD-1’s head. “Hi.”

“What’s your name?”

This time, she does look at him.

“You’re one of the ones from the Mantis, right?”

Her evasion of the question he asked doesn’t escape him, but he doesn’t press the issue. He wasn’t exactly an open book in his youth either.

“Yup. I’m Cal, and this here is BD-1.”

She frowns at him. “I know. I can speak binary,” she says, as if offended by the insinuation that she couldn’t.

Cal doesn’t let it faze him. “That’s good, not many people can.”

“I’m Jyn.”

Cal smiles to himself. He holds out his hand to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Jyn.”

She accepts the handshake, squeezing his hand in a fierce grip with her little fingers.

“Ouch, you got a strong grip there,” he says, exaggeratedly shaking the pain out of his right hand.

Jyn nods. “Saw says that a firm handshake establishes dominance quickly.”

“Well, it's working,” he says with a smile. “Is Saw your dad?”

Jyn frowns bitterly, and Cal instantly regrets asking. “Not really, she says, shaking her head. “He’s just raising me.”

Now there was a loaded response. Cal wonders what happened to her parents. Were they dead? Or was there another reason why she was in the middle of the woods with a band of militants and Saw Gerrera. Was it possible that she-

Cal shivers, and reaches out into the Force, only to withdraw with dismay a moment later. The Force flowed around her like it did every other being, but she lacked that spark of connection, that synchronization to the energy of life that other Force-sensitives had. He tries not to let his disappointment show on his face and steers the conversation away from either of their pasts, waving his hand to indicate the group gathered in the forest clearing. “Are all of these people your friends?”

She shrugs. “Sort of. I know most of them, but they don’t hang around much because they’re usually off on missions and stuff for Saw.”

“Does it ever get lonely?”

“No, I don’t mind being by myself. It does get boring though. Hey, can I have some of that?”

“What, this?” He holds up his cup, still half-full of Sunberry wine.

“Yeah.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “Um, I’m not sure that’s a great idea, it wouldn’t be very responsible of me. Besides, you’ll have plenty of time to drink when you’re older.” Internally, he cringes at his own words. Since when did he begin to sound like his master?

“That’s what all the others say. I thought you would be cool,” she says with a huff of disappointment.

Cal is momentarily tempted to give in, if only to salvage his status of “cool” in the eyes of this girl. But he really doesn’t want to get in trouble with their newfound allies by getting their surrogate daughter drunk on their very first meeting.

“Hey, I’m definitely cool. How old are you anyway?”

“I’m 8, and I think if I’m old enough to start training for field missions, I’m old enough to have something to drink that’s interesting. But so far, I'm the only one who thinks that.”

Training for field missions. Training for- Saw was training her for the field already?

Eight. She’s eight years old. He tries to picture this girl - with her tiny button nose and flyaway hairs escaping from braided pigtails - wearing her flak helmet and clutching a blaster, taking shelter in a foxhole as Imperial fire rains down. They at least had let him wait until he was 12 before he shipped out with Master Tapal and the clones in the 13th, this girl was practically still a baby.

Instinctively, he looks to Merrin, the only other person he knows who would understand. But Merrin isn’t where he saw her last. His eyes scan the clearing, and catch sight of her at the edge of the forest, at the start of the path that leads to the cliff edge nearby that overlooks the valley.

He wonders why she’s leaving, and if she wanted him to follow.

“Hey, did you hear what I said?”

Jyn is looking at him expectantly. Kriff.

“Uh, sorry, Jyn. Zoned out for a minute there. What was that?”

“I asked you if you know how to shoot a blaster, or if you only use your lightsaber and stuff.”

“Oh. Uh, I prefer the lightsaber I guess."

"Can I hold it?”

Cal blinks. Hold his lightsaber? He glances around the fire. He doesn’t have a problem with it, personally, but for the second time that evening, he is taken aback by his newfound position as an adult responsible for the wellbeing of a child. He unclips it from his belt.

“Yes. But,” he says, and doesn’t continue speaking until she’s torn her excited gaze away from his saber hilt to meet his eyes. “Let’s not ignite it here, okay? So be careful with the button. Got it?”

She nods, and he passes it to her.

She takes it reverently, holding it carefully in both hands and turning it over, examining it from all angles. Her little fingers barely wrap all the way around the circumference of the hilt. Cal is pleased to see she gingerly arranges her fingers so as not to accidentally trigger the ignition. BD-1 stands on her thigh, examining it with her even though he’s seen it hundreds of times already.

“It’s heavier than I thought,” she remarks. “Is it fun?”

“Is what fun?”

She shrugs. “You know. Using it, and fighting with it.”

Cal thinks for a moment. He doesn’t think of fighting as something fun. Usually, when he has to use it’s saber, it’s because somebody is trying to kill him and he will have to kill them in return. But his mind is drawn back to building his first saber as a youngling, and the thrill of feeling each component of the hilt assembling into something uniquely his. Of practicing kata or sparring in the temple, saber moving with power and fluidity as an extension of his own self. Of igniting his second saber for the first time on Illum, feeling the heat of the blade on his face and the crystal within calling out to him as if reuniting with an old friend.

And he finds himself saying, “Yeah. It’s pretty fun.”

She seems to consider something for a moment, and hands it back. “I know that I’m not a Jedi or anything, but do you think I would be good at fighting with one if I was?”

He busies himself with affixing his lightsaber back to his belt and taking a swallow from his rapidly-cooling wine as he considers how best to answer her bid for validation.

“How about the next time we come to work for Saw, you and I find out together?”

She looks at him accusingly. “But I don’t have a lightsaber, how would I do that?”

He shoots a look at BD-1, who seems to nod encouragingly.

“Before any Jedi builds their own lightsaber, we train with sticks and staves. We practice with ordinary weapons before we ever take up a lightsaber. I could teach you, if you wanted. You don’t need to be a Jedi to hit somebody with a stick."

She laughs at this, evidently not expecting so elegant a weapon to be compared to a common stick. “What if I wandered around with a stick tied to one side of my belt, and bonked people on the head like it was a tube of flimsi towels?” she says, shaking her fist as she raps Cal’s own skull with an imaginary cardboard tube.

Cal smiles. “Stormtrooper helmets aren’t very good quality, but they’re a bit tougher than your average flimsi-towel tube. We’ll have to find you something sturdier to practice with.”

Jyn stares at him, looking a bit shocked. “Were you serious about teaching me?”

BD-1 trills with affirmation, hopping from one little foot to the other in excitement.

“Of course. Not tonight, but we’ll see each other again. Someday, I’ll show you how to fight with one of these.

Her eyes are shining with excitement, and she holds out a tiny pinky. “Promise?”

He locks his little finger with hers, and says “I promise. You should be able to defend yourself as much as possible, when you’re out there.”

What he means is, I’m not going to let you die like the others, not if I can help it.

But he doesn’t say that, because Jyn is still young and dreams of glory, and the cruelty of the galaxy will find her soon enough without any of his help. She’s like him and Merrin now. A survivor.

Speaking of Merrin…

She’s still not back, and Cal eyes the entrance to the first path with apprehension. She’s more than capable of taking care of herself, he knows that. And if she had run into trouble, she would be able to make enough of a fuss to be noticeable from here.

Still.

He takes a final swig from his cup and leaves it behind him on the grass as he stands, and tries not to groan at the stiffness in his knees.

“I’m gonna go for a walk, make sure Merrin’s okay,” He says. “You two…” he points from Jyn to BD-1 in turn “Stay out of trouble, alright?”

“Okay,” Jyn says casually, resuming her fiddling with BD-1’s antennae as BD-1 chirps contentedly. “Don’t get lost.”

Cal isn’t worried about getting lost. He’d traveled the footpath from the clearing to the cliff ledge multiple times in the daylight. But this time, as the shadows of the trees close around him, cutting him off from the warmth of the fire and his gathered friends, his mind began to wander back to his conversation with Jyn.

Was Saw really going to send this child out to fight? At least with him, they hadn’t had a choice, they hadn’t just...

No, they had. The Jedi order made a choice to send him out onto the front lines as a soldier at the age of 12. They did the same to Caleb and Zett and Skywalker’s padawan, Ahsoka, who at the age of 14 had seemed so mature to Cal when he first met her. They had all grown up under blasterfire and canonfire and the shrill scream of bombers, and now Jyn was going to have to do the same.

He makes the decision then to ask the rest of the crew to take on as many jobs for Saw as they can. He knows he isn’t invincible. He can’t save the entire galaxy by himself, but if he can be here for Jyn, maybe….

Maybe he could be for her what Prauf was for him. A guide, an anchor, someone who would have her back when the going gets tough, as it inevitably does.

It takes 7 standard minutes and two stumbles over protruding roots before the trees thin out and Cal finds himself at the clearing on top of the cliff. It’s a stunning view. Corvus’ twin moons cast a wan glow over the valley, and the dark sea of trees below them stretches out all the way to the horizon, leaving the star-studded sky open and clear and resplendent. He isn’t alone, and nearly starts out of his poncho before he remembers why he came out this way and recognizes Merrin sitting on the edge, kicking her dangling feet back and forth. She seems to notice him at the same time he notices her.

“Did nobody ever warn you about sneaking up on a Nightsister?”

Cal smiles in the way he can’t help but smile whenever she’s near. “They probably did, and I just wasn’t paying attention.”

“Foolish of you,” she says, patting the spot on the grass next to her. “What are you doing out here?”

Cal accepts the invitation, and eases himself down beside her, dangling his legs over the edge as she did. “I wanted to make sure you were okay, and to keep you company if you didn’t want to be alone.”

She smiles a little, making the dimples in her cheeks stand out. “Thoughtful of you. Were you enjoying yourself?”

“I was. Saw knows how to throw a pretty good shindig.”

“I will have to take your word for it. I haven’t been to many shindigs, as you call them.”

“Yeah, I guess Dathomir wasn’t really known for it’s party scene.”

“As a matter of fact,” she says dryly, “It wasn’t.

“Did you meet Jyn?”

“Was she the little one you were talking to?”

Cal sighs deeply. “Yeah, she was.”

Merrin draws the silence out, leaving room in the air between them for Cal to say what he was thinking. He wasn’t even sure how to express it, but felt compelled to try. Besides, if anyone knew how he was feeling, Merrin would.

“She’s only eight. Saw’s training her for the field.”

Merrin makes a neutral humming noise in the back of her throat. “It will be good for her to learn early. Better start now, so she will be stronger when she’s grown.”

“Maybe, but I don’t know. She’s really young, and I…. I never really thought about the kind of childhood we had, and how it really wasn’t a childhood at all, until now. And it’s hard to wrap my head around.”

“It is difficult to see it happen to someone else with your own eyes, now that you’re grown.” Merrin’s voice is unusually gentle, but she wastes no time getting to the heart of the issue as usual.

“Yeah, exactly. I wish she could grow up in a more peaceful galaxy, and not have to fight.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair, suddenly overwhelmed by a bitter surge of emotion. “And she’s not just out there for her own life. These rebels are fighting because so many can’t fight for themselves. She’s going to be responsible for a galaxy full of people older than her, adults who should be protecting her, not the other way around! And it’s not… it’s not fair.”

The sentiment sounds childish to his own ears - he’s long stopped believing that the universe was fair - but his chest aches with the truth of it. What he wouldn’t give to live in a world where he and Merrin could have had their childhoods free of fighting and and death and raw survival, where they could simply be two teenagers: Drinking and talking and watching the stars. Where Jyn could simply be a child. With her parents. Going to school, making friends her own age, catching bugs and playing with dolls and collecting model starfighters.

As if she could sense his thoughts, Merrin says “There’s no use dwelling on what could have been, Cal. This is the world we’ve been given. We’re here, so we’ll keep her as safe as we can for as long as we can, and when we can’t anymore, well. You and I survived, didn’t we?”

He glances at her to find she’s already holding his gaze.

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

“Then why can’t Jyn?”

Trust only in the Force.

He takes a deep breath in and exhales, and with it releases his fear and anxiety and regret into the Force, like snow melting off a mountainside.

Sometimes, he thinks Merrin would have made a better Jedi than he ever did.

“You’re right, as always,” he says, and a comfortable silence ensues between them for the next few moments as they watch the stars together.

“Hey,” Cal says, tilting his head towards the southwest. “That constellation kind of looks like Greez.”

She follows his gaze, searching the horizon with bright eyes. “Where?”

He extends his arm and points up at the vaguely Latero-shaped cluster of stars. “There. See?”

“Huh. I think it sort of looks like a dick.”

“Do you mean it actually looks like a penis, or that Greez is just a dick?”

Merrin considers for a moment. “Yes to both.”

Cal snorts.

They carry on that way, and make a game of trying to find the shapes of their friends in the stars. Until something occurs to Cal.

“Hey, why did you leave anyway?” He asks.

“Well, it was… you know.” Merrin sighs, and Cal copies her earlier silence, the open air of the night waiting for her words.

“On Dathomir, and even with you and the crew of the Mantis, I always knew that I belonged, and it’s easy to know what to do. I’ve… I’ve never been around so many people before who didn’t know me.”

Cal thinks he knows what she means, but he lets her go on.

“Cere has her music, and Greez loses our money at games, most beings find you handsome and pleasant and easy to talk to, and of course everyone loves your little droid. But I don’t know what the rules are, yet. To being with so many people who aren’t like me.”

Cal feels his face flush hot at her words. Merrin thought he was handsome? But he didn’t let himself dwell on the compliment.

“You know you’re one of us though, right?”

Merrin had an impressive sabacc face by anyone’s standards, but Cal had known her long enough by now to learn her tells. Right now, for instance, the slightest tension in her brown told him that she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Hey, I mean it. Socializing takes practice, it definitely did for me when I first ended up on Bracca. The first year was awkward and confusing, but we really care about you. I know it won’t be the same as your sisters on Dathomir, but you have a place here, for as long as you want it.”

Merrin nods, slow and contemplative. “I do, and I care about you too, but it doesn’t feel the same as I thought it would all the time. So many things are unfamiliar, it gets overwhelming. Cere’s music was nice but I don’t know any of the songs that the others do. The music on Dathomir wasn’t quite so… exuberant, but at least I knew all the words.”

Cal leans back on his arms to better look her in the eye.

“Well, that problem shouldn’t be a hard one to fix.”

Merrin mirrors his movements to regard him in return. “What do you mean?

“I’ll send you some music before the next shindig, whenever it is.”

Merrin raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You want me to listen to that caterwauling you call music?”

“First of all,” he says, holding up a reproachful finger. “It’s not caterwauling. And I’ll make you a playlist, even. Cal Kestis’ Guide to Exploring the Galaxy Through Music. And next time Saw has a party you’re going to sing and get drunk and be ridiculous with the rest of us. We can pretend we’re regular, irresponsible teenagers having fun for once.”

She turns away again to study the terrain below them. “I would do no such thing. I am the epitome of grace and beauty, and will not bring disgrace upon the Nightsisters of Dathomir by fraternizing with the likes of you in such a way.” Her tone is imperious and unyielding, but he notices the faintest upturn in the corners of her mouth and knows she's only teasing.

“That’s a lie! You’re just as weird as the rest of us, admit it.”

“I should sue you on grounds of defamation of character.”

“How? You don’t know any lawyers and we’re both enemies of the state.”

“Semantics.” She lies down onto her back, face tilted to the night sky. The light of Corvus’ moon casts a glow on her face that makes her grey complexion look like a moon itself, ethereal and resplendent. “Very well. I will let you educate me about ‘music,’” she says, making quotes in the air with her fingers, “on one condition.”

“And what would that be?”

“Next time we’re at one of these, what did you call them? Shindigs? You are going to dance with me.”

Cal hesitates. “Well… I’m really not a very good dancer, Merrin.”

“I know that. But I have hopes of improving you. You will find I am a marvelous teacher. My sisters and I would dance when we had… nights like this.”

She doesn’t elaborate, but Cal is no stranger to longing for a past that was cruelly ripped away. As shy as he felt about dancing in public, he wasn’t going to let her miss a chance to give her back something she loved about her home.

“Okay then. You can teach me to dance.”

Merrin grins, looking delighted.

Yeah. He would waltz arm-in-arm with the Ninth Sister if only to see Merrin smile like that again. He copies her in lying down on his back, breathing deeply of the forest air.

Moments where it’s just the two of them together, without the rest of the crew or even BD-1 around are few and far between and tragically short at that, so Cal decides to relish every minute of it as it is. The stillness, the beauty of the night sky on Corvus, lying next to her so close their shoulders are a hair’s breadth from touching, and nowhere they need to be for the next standard rotation.

Yeah, Cal could get used to this. He sneaks another glance at Merrin.

Judging by the way her eyes are closed and her breathing has deepened, Merrin is even more relaxed than he is.

He smiles, glad that she’s finally resting properly. Sleep is hard to come by in their line of work, and Merrin works harder than the rest of them, since her magick is so vital to sneaking the Mantis past Imperial blockades.

The thought of work and blockades and their myriad responsibilities must be what jinxes him, because just at that moment, his comm chirps and Merrin jerks awake.

“Sorry, Merrin,” he says sheepishly. He wishes whoever was trying to get in touch with them could have at least given her a few more minutes to sleep.

“It’s fine,” she replies. “See who it is, it might be important.”

Regretfully, he answers the comm. “Cal here.”

“You kids better have been kidnapped or something,” blares Greez’s voice from Cal’s wrist. “Because if I find out you two have been canoodling in those woods, I swear I’ll-”

“Kriff, Greez! No one’s canoodling!” He silently damns his own face for blushing, and hopes Merrin doesn’t notice. “We were just on a walk.”

“Oh, that’s what they’re calling it these days? And where did you hear that language?”

“The last time? From you,” Cal deadpans.

"Yeah okay, smartass. Merrin’s with you?”

“She is,” Merrin says.

“Swell. Look, fire’s getting low, Saw’s getting impatient, Cere broke a string, and that little droid of yours is about to bust a servo with how much he’s worrying about you. So you might want to get back here. We’ll pack up the Mantis, make the jump to Taanab and sleep on the way. Got it?”

Cal sighs, and shares a knowing look with Merrin. So much for peace and quiet.

But such was the life of survivors like them.

“We hear you, Greez. We’ll be back shortly.”

“And no detours! Don’t need you two giving each other any diseases or-”

“Yup, we got it, thanks,” he says quickly, before Greez can add any more input on what they should or shouldn’t do on their way back. “Cal out.”

He shuts off his comlink, closes his eyes, and sighs for what feels like the millionth time that evening. When he opens his eyes, Merrin is pointing towards the southwest.

“Like I said. Dick.”

He laughs, embarrassment forgotten in a moment.

“You were right about that,” he says, then stands up and offers her a hand for assistance.

The scathing look she gives him would have cowed a lesser man, but Cal stands his ground, silently daring her to accept his chivalry. She does give in, as he knew she would, using him as leverage to pull herself to her feet.

But what he didn’t know that she would do was draw herself closer still and wrap her arms around his shoulders.

It takes him by surprise, but he gathers himself quickly. The gaping hole in his chest that made their last (and so far, only) hug a rather painful ordeal is now nothing but a blot of pinkish scar tissue, so he returns her embrace wholeheartedly, settling his arms against her back and waist. Merrin takes a deep, tremulous breath, and he rubs her back tenderly to soothe her.

She doesn’t show any interest in letting go yet, so he lets himself linger as long as she’s willing to, dreading the moment of pulling away. He can’t remember the last time he had ever felt like this. Physical affection on Bracca and the Mantis was limited to back slaps and shoulder pats and handshakes sealed with the spit of a promise. He remembers falling asleep cuddled next to his fellow crechemates as a very small youngling at the temple, but they had abandoned such childish actions when they left the creche. Now that he considers it, he can’t remember the last time he had been held.

And suddenly he feels untethered and desperate and weak at the knees and he squeezes her as close to him as he can without hurting her. He lets out a harsh breath that turns into a whimper, and muffles the sound in the crook of her neck. Her arms around his shoulders tighten in response. He imagines himself physically soaking in the hug, letting her warmth and her weight in his arms seep through his skin and shore up his defenses that have been stretched too thin for far too long.

A hundred years could have gone by, and Cal would have been content for both of them to stay right where they were for the entirety of it. But Merrin loosens her grip on him so he reluctantly does the same. It’s only then he realizes that he had managed to lift her completely off her feet, and she drops the few inches back to the ground awkwardly, landing on his toes.

“Ow, kriff, I’m sorry,” He fumbles. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t apologize,” she chuckles, tugging the hem of her tunic back into place. “It was nice. You’re a good friend, Cal. You give good hugs.”

Affection wells in his chest and swells his heart so full he’s afraid it will burst. His feelings for her lately have been… complex. And confusing. And he doesn’t really know what to do with them, except to stay by her side for as long as he can, wherever they go.

“I’m- I’m so glad I met you,” is all he knows to say. And as an addendum, “You give good hugs too.”

The words sounded lame as soon as he said them, but Merrin beamed as if he had recited the sonnets of Adranax.

Until her face nearly splits down the middle in a massive yawn she belatedly tries to cover with the back of her hand. He puts an arm around her shoulders then steers them both towards the path that will take them back to the others.

“Come on,” he says. “Long day tomorrow.”

“It always is, isn’t it.”

“That’s true.” He takes one last look behind them at the moon-soaked landscape, committing it to memory as best as he can.

This is a night he never wants to forget.

#jedi: fallen order #cal kestis #nightsister merrin #jedi: fallen order fanfic #star wars fanfiction

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rebellconquerer · 4 years

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Another random rogue one ficlet in my head. One day I'll write connecting scenes. Blah!

By the time they come to a stop on Yavin IV ( she is hard pressed to call what happened a ‘landing’) Cassian is all but unconscious. He stops responding to her directly sometime around their third hour in space, and he spends the rest of the trip breathing shallowly while whispering in a language she thinks might be Alderaani, or staring rather blankly around the ship.

For her part, she doesn't move the entire trip. Cassian seems comfortable enough laying mostly in her lap and she makes the decision that nothing short of her death will make her leave him, not when he didn’t leave her. She wraps her fingers around his wrist, allowing his constant, though thready, pulse to calm her. That is exactly how the medics find them when they are finally, mercifully on the ground. Him laying on her. Her wrapped around him.

The process of disentangling herself, and getting him onto the stretcher isn’t hard per se, but when she pulls away and they move him, he lets out a short, sharp sound, too quiet to really be called a scream, that breaks her nonetheless. She bats away the helping hands that come to her next, telling them that she is fine.

It’s true in any case. She has strained a muscle in her right hip that makes it easier to limp than to walk. Apart from that, however, she is tired and sore and feels like one big bruise, but there is nothing deadly about her injuries. Not like Bodhi. Not like Cassian.

She watches as her crew (her team?) gets carried off the ship and trails close behind them. She’s not sure what to expect when she leaves the ship. The battle overhead on the beach told her that the Alliance did come for them, that they decided to fight, but she isn’t sure how they will react to having their hands forced.

That Draven is the one to meet her isn’t a surprise. She thinks there will be shouting and recriminations and maybe even a new prison in her future. She tilts her chin up, squaring her shoulders and lets her hardest glare paint her features. She won’t take a lashing for this man’s follies. She won’t go quietly to whatever corner they have prepared for her. She won’t leave Bodhi and Cassian to wake alone.

What she doesn’t expect however, is the quiet devastation that clouds Draven’s face when he sees Cassian being carried on the stretcher. She doesn’t expect him to touch Cassian’s cheek gently. She doesn’t expect his voice to break with what may very well be his last words to his spy.

When the medics brush them off and carry on towards the medward, Draven turns to her, and there it is. The cold fury behind his eyes that she had been expecting.

“That was a hell of a risk you took. A suicide mission is the term being used.” He says flatly.

“We did what needed to be done.” She grits out at him. She wants to know, wants to be told what happened after but refuses to ask this man for anything. Even for information.

They hold each other's eyes a moment too long to be collegiate. “The plans made it off planet. Vader himself took down a command class vessel under general reedus to get those plans back.* An entire battalion was lost.” He pauses, seemingly wants to say something else, before he thinks better of it.

“The plans are now with a trusted ally who is being hunted by the Empire. We are attempting to get them somewhere safe. Until we know more, you are dismissed.” He ends curtly, turning sharply on his heel and marching back towards command.

Jyn stands stock still and allows the quiet of the hallway to leach into her. She glances around. The bright white of the overhead lights wash the colour out of the vaguely orange walls, which seem to run into perpetuity on either side of her. It is hard to miss how empty the place is and how wrong that emptiness feels. All at once it hits her. She has nothing to do. Nowhere to be. For the first time in… she thinks back for a minute, really the first time in longer than she can remember, her life is not governed by a prison schedule or a mission, or the need to find food and shelter.

She doesn’t know what to do, so she does the only thing she can. She follows her crew into the med bay.

They see her as a patient as much as a visitor when she enters. She doesn’t object as they fuss around her, stripping her of her filthy clothes. They push her into the sonic, slather her in bacta, from head to toe, and give her very basic, vaguely humanoid new clothes to wear.

After that, she waits. She waits for them to tell her that Bodhi will need a few Bacta immersions for his burns and a new left hand, but will live. She waits for them to tell her Cassian ruptured his spleen, lacerated his kidney and fractured 3 of his vertebrae so completely, they don’t believe he walked after the fall, much less climbed, and aren’t sure he’ll ever walk again. She waits for them to tell her Cassian died.

For 12 minutes, alone on a table.

She waits for them to tell her he’s alive, and will need bacta immersions and implants and…

Well she doesn’t hear too much after that, because Cassian died, but he came back. Again.

She wanders out of the medward much later, cold and numb and stands just outside of the doors for a full 5 minutes trying to decide where to go. What to do next? She was assigned a bunk in the common dorm on her initial trip here, but the thought of open space and other people make her hackles rise. She should be hungry but the thought of food unsettles her stomach. She starts walking eventually, as much for something to do, as to try and get away from the jagged pieces of her psyche that her mind keeps timidly circling.

When she looks up again, she realises she recognises where she is. A quieter section of the base that has the officers quarters, or that’s what she had assumed anyway, because it was where Cassian’s quarters were. She had followed him there to grab supplies before they stole the ship.

She glances around the hallway, somehow expecting someone, maybe even Draven, to appear and yell that she is in defiance of some Alliance ordinance and shouldn’t be there. No one materializes, so she walks slowly towards the door and tilts her head. She shouldn’t invade his space. She knows this on some level, thinks that if it was her, she’d go batshit on anyone who made themselves at home in her quarters. But suddenly she can feel every hit and scrape that she has taken over the past 2 weeks, hell over the past 2 years. And she is so very tired.

It takes her longer than she would have expected to slice through his locks, but eventually it gives and the door slides open with a sigh.

She walks quietly around the small space, not questioning how or why she feels safe for the first time in days. There isn't much here. A datapad tossed casually on a small desk, a well worn jacket hung over the edge of the bed, seemingly forgotten in a hurry, three small plants along the sill of a dusty window that seem to be well taken care of.

She runs her fingertips along the cool leaves, wondering if Cassian did this. If he is capable of nurturing life as well as taking it. She wonders what that is like.

Soon enough she crawls into his bed, expecting sleep to claim her quickly. She's never had trouble falling asleep. On the floor in some dirt bunker, outside under the trash of derelict buildings and broken dreams. Even in Wobani. Habits built from a lifetime of catching kip wherever she can. It doesn't happen like that tonight though. She spends an eternity staring at the bland ceiling above, trying to will her mind clear. Then the tears come.

She hasn't cried since she was a child sitting on the floor by Saw's feet, mourning deaths she didn't fully understand. She can still hear his voice.

“This is it” He had said, as kindly as he could manage. “The last time you will lose precious water over something you cannot change. The future is ahead of us. the past is dead.”

She wipes angrily at her eyes. This is stupid. The plans are out and she's survived. It's what she always does. She barely knows the lives that were lost. She never truly knew the guardians. Doesn't even really know Bodhi or Cassian. And she stopped caring about both the men that called themselves her father when they abandoned her.

She's alive and that's all that matters. That's all that ever mattered.

But the tears don't stop. Her face flushes and her nose runs. A fine tremor starts in her hands. She begins to wring the sheet on the bed, over and over, becoming tighter each time, trying to calm her shaking.

Nothing works. Soon her whole body is shaking with mighty sobs. She sees Saw in his cave, old and frail and broken like she never realised when she was with him. She sees her father staring at her with joy and peace as the light goes out of his eyes. She buries her face into the pillow, allowing the soft, cool fabric to sooth her and hide the broken, hideous sounds she is making.

She gives up and let's herself cry. Let's herself mourn for all that she has lost, let's out the fear and anger that she can no longer carry. She is safe for tonight. The future can wait.

#Jyn #Cassian #rebelcaptain #jyn x cassian #rogue one #fanfiction #fanfic #Bodhi #jyn erso #myfic #my fic #rebelcaptain fic #rebellwrites

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catfur-and-greenscales · 4 years

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Kids in Star Wars universe I

It is kind of devastating to think and actually understand how horribly young Kanan (or Caleb) have been at time of execution of Order 66. Look at him! Such a cutie! And looking so important in important meeting of adults. And Kal Kestis had been even younger. Or he appears younger to me than Caleb/Kanan at footage. Hundreds of kids had been fighting at the Clone Wars. At both sidses. It was quite interesting to understand that Cassian Andor had been a child soldier of Separatists side. If thinking of clones the number of children is even greater. But clones were not seeing themselves as a children, so maybe calling them as a child soldiers would be excatoration. We can still say that the war took their childhood away, even they were created for the war. Makes me wonder had any senator questioned sending Force sensitive kids to war? Or was it fine because they were trained to be the future Jedi? Or was anyone asking question of what happened to the Force senstive kids at Jedi Temple? I find it kind of disturbing that the clones were murdering babies in their creches since the order got children as young as few months in their midsts. But I also find it really disturbing that those children had been trained by Sidious with same way he trained Maul. Really hope not, but would not be too optimistic about it. But my opinion is that there is going to be quite a many ‘sisters’ and ‘brothers’. And they who were going to became either sisters of brothers since according to the Canon for example former Jedi Master Eeth Koth had a daughter who was taken by project Harvester 14 years before battle of Yavin. And Zare Leoni’s sister was also taken by the Inquisitors. What happened to those kids when the Empire fell? And what happened to kids who were fighting in this war of adults? Steela and Saw Garrera were barely adults too. Lux Bonteri were so awfully young too. How badly were they scarred? Saw is a good example for this scarring. He never recovered and became dangerously exreme in his opinions. No wonder he had some major dificulties to rise Jyn Erso.

((Mathieu Chevalier - https://www.artstation.com/artwork/w88JZX )) There is a term of trauma of generations. It sounds something suitable for world of Star Wars as well... Thinking about how scarred generation of Luke and Leia were, how many lives were shattered by that war and how it affected everyone. War is ugly. And still it playes with our imagination.

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venusmelody · 3 years

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for the signature story inquiry, i have two! 'if you wish deeply enough, if you fight hard enough' and 'fingerprints still mapped on her skin' - both of which are true delights! i hope you've been faring well, friend!

Life has been... pretty stable, actually! With deeply rooted, unshakeable, routine.

if you wish deeply enough, if you fight hard enough

Haha, apart from the fact that I actually cut an entire section out, after it was already posted? Hm, I was listening to some WW1 podcasts around the time I wrote this, and there was a mention that when men (boys) signed up for armies, they'd group together those from the same streets and towns. So if a battalion were devastated, then half of those kids would be just gone, leaving the entire street empty. That's why the town Steve was in was so empty.

The other secret, I suppose, is that Diana's dream and her image of death are Morpheus and Death from Neil Gaiman's The Sandman, because I love stealth crossovers.

fingerprints still mapped on her skin

Thank you for choosing this fic. My dude, I wish I were still in the headspace to write like this again. I need to get back to reading more books. ANYWAY. This section, here:

"Saw Gerrera raised you," he says abruptly. Her words back on Yavin IV. [...]

"Yes," she says.

"And then you parted ways?" he asks. He is probing for more.

"Yes," she says again.

Cassian isn't interrogating her. He's giving her the leeway to say more, if she wishes, without manipulating any answers out of her. Unfortunately, he's also kind of shellshocked himself by Jedha's destruction and trying to deal with it by helping Jyn, so he doesn't do it too well--he's usually much better at it!

#earnmysong #fanfic memes #:answers #i hope you're doing well too!

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cohborikardok · 3 years

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I’m watching Rogue One for the first time since I saw it in theaters (it was so emotionally devastating the first time I’ve given myself a few years to recover) and I forgot how INCREDIBLE of an actress Felicity Jones is as Jyn Erso. The scene where she watches the hologram of her father? Amazing. I’m sobbing and we’re not even at the sad part of the movie yet.

#rogue one #Star Wars #felicity jones #jyn erso #acting

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miroana · 3 years

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Hidden gems in Star Wars music

Okay, so we already know that the music in Star Wars is incredible and John Williams is a genius — think the Force theme, Across the Stars, Imperial March, etc. However, there are some criminally underrated parts of the soundtrack that simply need. more. appreciation, and I’m here to provide that. *uses force mind trick* you will listen to these themes immediately. Enjoy, and may the force be with you!

Satine’s theme — Hauntingly beautiful and melancholy, it encapsulates her character perfectly, from her dreams of peace for a war-torn society to her ill-fated love with Obi-Wan. Also, the broken version that plays at her death will shatter your heart in 10 million pieces.

Jyn Erso Hope Suite — A spin-off of the classic Star Wars theme that echos the spirit of Rogue One brilliantly and nails the theme of despair grappling with hope. Be prepared to get in your feels about the Rogue One crew. It’s by Michael Giacchino; you know, the guy who already punched you in the gut by writing the devastating music in Up.

Lira San — As soon as I saw this scene Rebels, I fell in love. Say what you want about the series animation style (*thinks of Rebels Yoda and shudders*) but this scene is visually gorgeous and the swelling strings absolutely transcend it. I don’t even know what the episode was about I was too busy being 🤩 at the music.

Rise of the Resistance — a rare sequel mention (sorry, not my favorite movies ever, but John Williams always pulls through). For lack of a better word, this theme slaps. It certainly gets you hyped to, as Poe so eloquently put it, “jump in an x-wing and blow some stuff up.” That scene of the resistance ships rising from the forest in TROS with this blaring? *chef’s kiss*

TCW S7 trailer music — Literally nails the vibes of this amazing show, absolutely epic through and through. I can’t get enough. A mix of multiple themes and motifs from the entirety of the show, it’s completely epic and heartbreaking at the same time. The force theme layered into it just makes me sadder about the fall of the Jedi Order, and the way it ends with Ahsoka Leaves parallels the end of the series perfectly. I. Love. This. Music.

Victory celebration — (aka the Ewok song). How could I not add this? This song symbolizes so much to me. It’s played over a perfect happy ending, the celebration of the triumph of good over evil and the fall of the evil empire after so many years of fighting, but the music is bittersweet, since our heroes lost so much along the way. It’s a little controversial but only nostalgia goggles could convince someone that Yub Nub is better than this masterpiece of an ending (and adding Hayden in was 100% the right decision, come on now). I actually only listen to this on special occasions — only big turning points, where I’m leaving something behind and moving forward to a (hopefully) better future.

#cinematic soundtracks are something that can just be so... personal #the official music term is actually ‘‘bops’’ I can confirm #as a classical violinist I can certify this to be true. these can also be classified as ‘‘bangers’’ which is another official term #if nothing else listen to satines theme it’s incredible #and it dies with her which just makes it more impactful #Ahsoka’s theme almost made the list bc I love it but it’s more widely known and appreciated so I didn’t include it but listen to it anyway #star wars #star wars music

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safaiagem · 4 years

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Fic Snippet - Rogue One - That Which Is Lost By Not Trying Chapter 2

That first chapter preview got a truly crazy amount of reblogs and likes compared to other previews I’ve written. Thank you so much for the kind response I’ve already gotten for That Which Is Lost By Not Trying. So here is the preview for the second chapter and we can hopefully expect it to be up in full in about three days. Forewarning; I am very tired. So if this doesn’t make sense you should tell me so I can edit it XD

Jyn sat in her room and thought about the many things she would need to change to make this work. They had to make sure the plans go through but also wanted to save as many lives as possible. That included her own and Cassian's at the end. She thought about telling Cassian what she knew and that she was repeating the day but decided against it. He didn't seem that put off by her the previous try but if she was actively trying to change things that could make the mission fail Cassian might not be okay with that. So this was something she was going to have to do on her own which was fine. That was something she could absolutely handle. Maybe.

So Jyn decided that the best idea would be to start small and that meant preventing Cassian from falling in the tower. The idea of watching him hit those poles over and over again was enough to turn her stomach. If she could prevent him from falling then he would be stronger for when she figured out how to get them a ship. If she let him fall Cassian might not make it back to Yavin even if she got ahold of a ship and got them off of the planet. So first things first; she needed to make sure that Cassian didn't fall.

The comm came and Jyn got dressed and walked out of her room like she didn't know how all of this was going to end. She gave the same speeches and put on the same clothes. She made sure that she was doing everything the same, for now, until she could figure out how to save everyone. This was going to be a process and one that was going to require perfecting. She could handle that. Jyn was sure she could handle that.

Or at least she was pretty sure she could handle it as she watched Cassian's devastated face when Kay stayed behind for them. He loved that droid and she needed to make sure that she found a way to save him too. Now it was time to make a significant change for the better. Now it was time to keep Cassian from falling and breaking half of the bones in his body. Jyn got the plans and began to make her way up.

"Watch out," she called as they began to return fire to Krennic and the Death Troopers. Jyn knew that now was the time and she needed to help him. "Cassian, move!" He did move but not in the right place. He was in a different position and this time Jyn had to watch as the blaster bolt went directly into his stomach instead of merely grazing him. She had to watch in horror as Cassian fell again only this time he wasn't going to get up. It was a miracle he was able to get there the first time but with a blaster bolt to the gut, he wouldn't stand a chance. Jyn tried to make it better and she somehow made it worse. She was alone now as he lay bleeding out on the maintenance platform below her.

Jyn pushed herself to climb faster as she made her way to the dish and she was so mad she was nearly seeing red. It wasn't good to let her anger get the better of her but this time there wasn't going to be anyone pulling her back when Krennic arrived. Jyn raced across the platform but instead of trying to transmit the plans she went and realigned the dish right away. This time no one fired on her and the platform didn't fall. She had her blaster in one hand and the plans in the other as she began the transmission. Jyn had just hit the button when the elevator doors open and Krennic walked out.

"Drop it," Jyn snapped. He looked surprised to see her but did what she said. "Do you know who I am?"

"Should I?" Krennic asked and he had the nerve to sound bored. There wasn't anyone to stop her from giving in to her worst instincts so she shot him in the knee. Krennic screamed as he fell down and Jyn looked down at him.

"That was for my mother, Lyra Erso," Jyn said and realization dawned on him. He had his hands up like he had the right to surrender, and Jyn did not care. She shot him in the other knee. "That was for my father, Galen Erso." There was blood on Krennic's white outfit but not nearly as much red as Jyn was still seeing. All she could think about was her parent's bodies, the way that Cassian fell, and she hated this man with everything she had. She shot him in the shoulder. "That was for Saw Gerrera and my friends," she said and then Jyn shot him in the other shoulder. "That was for Cassian Andor." Krennic was covered in red and he was screaming and crying in pain as he looked up at her. She pointed the blaster at his head and she couldn't understand the words that he was saying but they didn't matter. He didn't matter. "My name is Jyn Erso and this is for me," and she shot him between the eyes.

#jyn erso #cassian andor #rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fanfiction #rogue one #rogue one: a star wars story #rogue one fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #my writing #safaia's fics

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mosylufanfic · 4 years

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Chapters: 26/26 Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Old Kingdom - Garth Nix Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Jyn Erso & Lyra Erso, Galen Erso & Jyn Erso, Jyn Erso & Saw Gerrera, Saw Gerrera/Lyra Erso/Galen Erso, Cassian Andor & K-2SO, Jyn Erso & Bodhi Rook, Galen Erso/Bodhi Rook, Jyn Erso & Baze Malbus & Chirrut Îmwe, Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus, Cassian Andor & the Organas, Cassian Andor & Davits Draven, Galen Erso & Orson Krennic, Jyn Erso & Mogget Characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, Galen Erso, Lyra Erso, Saw Gerrera, K-2SO (Star Wars), Mon Mothma, Davits Draven, Orson Krennic, Baze Malbus, Raddus (Star Wars), Francis Tindall, Mrs Umbrade, Original Female Character(s), Leia Organa, Bail Organa, Breha Organa, Yrael | Mogget, Padmé Amidala Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Families of Choice, Unconventional Families, Bad Parenting, Charter Magic, Fate & Destiny, Good Intentions: Bad Outcomes, Angst and Romance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Wyverley College, Ancelstierre (Old Kingdom), the wall - Freeform, The Great Charters, Free Magic, Necromancy, Homecoming, Culture Shock, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Worldbuilding Series: Part 3 of does the walker choose the path Summary:

Does the walker choose the path, or the path the walker?

After the death of Queen Padmé, the Old Kingdom is sinking into ruin. The Regent Mon Mothma can't control the guilds, her predecessors have been murdered by a weapon made of Free Magic within the walls of the Palace itself, and the Abhorsen - a reclusive widower since the death of his wife - has disappeared. All that stands between the Old Kingdom and total devastation is the Abhorsen-in-Waiting.

Her name is Jyn.

from @rain-sleet-snow

#Jyn Erso #Cassian Andor #rebelcaptain #fanfiction #recs #rain_sleet_snow #Old Kingdom AU #Abhorsen AU #OH MY GOSH I LOVED THIS #I loved how it took the best of both #and Jyn's prickly feelings about her father just worked so well #eeee #(also if you haven't read the original go read the original I'll wait here #star wars #search your feelings you know it to be queue

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self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 5 years

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As You Wish | Farm Boy!Bodhi Rook x Reader (1/2)

Trope Prompt: Time Travel

Words: 2064

Fandom: Rogue One (Star Wars)/Doctor Who Fusion

Summary: What was supposed to be an early summer weekend trip with the Doctor turned out to be an adventure that landed you in the middle of a field during the Indus Valley civilization where you meet a charming farm boy.

You bounded up the familiar blue police box and let yourself in. The Doctor looked up from her fiddling on the console and grinned at you.

“Morning. It is morning, right?” She greeted.

“Well, it’s close to evening, Doctor,” you said, checking your watch.

Her eyes widened. “Ah, I see. Well, how was school, (Y/n)? Dealt with any rowdy children? Had to put someone on time out?”

“I work at Cambridge,” you reminded her, “and no. But there is a new Astrophysics professor coming next week, which is exciting. I know everyone will miss Professor Draven, he was a pretty chill dude, but apparently the new professor had been one of Draven’s best students.”

“Those teachers can brandish their prestigious PhDs about, but experience and how they use their knowledge is what counts,” she said, waving her sonic screwdriver around.

“Is that a euphemism, Doctor?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. She waved you off. Maybe it was just you. Maybe it was from hanging out with Jyn, one of the assistant professors, too much. You skipped over to the console and leaned against it. “So where are we going today?”

The Doctor gave you a wide grin, swinging the console monitor towards you. “It’s getting a bit chilly here in London, so I thought somewhere warm would suffice. So how about India? We can go and meet the Buddha and check out the sights. Or maybe we can go to Petra?”

“Either one sounds great.”

The Doctor spun around the console, flipping switches and pulling levers. The TARDIS began to wheeze and rumble as it took off. You held onto the console tightly, watching the lights flash as the TARDIS shook.

You stumbled back as the TARDIS landed to your destination. You bounced on the balls of your feet as the Doctor parked her beloved machine then gestured for you to follow her out.

The summer sun hit your faces as the Doctor creaked the door open. She scrunched her face up and hummed looking around with squinting eyes. She raised a hand to shield them and stepped out. You stepped out and landed in a field of grass.

“Doctor, are we in someone’s farm?” you asked, spotting the wheatfields and livestock.

“Huh, I suppose we are,” she said, surveying the landscape. “But I believe I’ve got the right region. Just about.”

You frowned. “How can you tell? The distance between the Sun and the Earth? The distant dry areas beyond this fertile farmland that’s likely near a river? The sheep and chickens?”

“No, well, yes that, and look!” The Doctor pointed over at the farmers who had just now noticed them. “Long cotton woven garments and clothes wrapped around their head to shield from the sun using sturdy copper and stone tools.” She swung her finger towards a nearby settlement. “Mud bricks and straw roofs, the patterns on the pottery. I’d say Mid-East?”

“Ah. I see.”

One of the older men walked up to the two of you cautiously, his hoing stick held tightly in his hands. “Who are you? Why are you here?” he asked gruffly.

The Doctor smiled bowed her head slightly “I’m the Doctor and this is my friend, (Y/n).” You follow her lead and lowered your head as well. “We appeared to have taken a wrong turn in our travels,” she said, “Say, where exactly are we?”

He looked back at his fellow farmers who watched with curiosity then at you. “This is the village of Jedha, several miles away from the city.”

“The city of…?”

“Mohenjo-daro, of course.”

Your jaw dropped. The city of Mohenjo-daro? A major city of the Indus Valley civilization? The time could be between the twenty-sixth to the nineteenth century BCE. You’ve been volunteering at archaeological digs every summer but never had a chance to even see Mohenjo-daro. And here you were, in a farming village miles from the city.

“Forgive us for being so cautious, but you have arrived in such ill timing since strange things have been happening to our fields. If you are traveling to Mohenjo-daro, you may speak to our village elder and they can see to aid you for your journey. I,” He holds a hand to his chest, “am Sahim Rook. If you would follow me, please.”

You fell into step with the Doctor as Sahim walked you towards the village. You looked back and saw the others returning to their menial tasks, occasionally shooting curious glances at you and the Doctor. You did just land in the middle of their field.

“You said strange things have been happening here? Like what?” You asked him.

He hummed, scratching his graying beard in thought. “There seems to be creatures disturbing our animals and a sickness that would fall onto anyone who strays too far from the village. They become a different person, they get violent like they were possessed, then they become ill, near death.” He paused and turned to the two of you. “You say you are a doctor.”

“Right I am!” The Doctor said proudly.

“If you don’t mind, could you take a look at our patients?”

“Of course, it’s the least we could do.”

“Thank you.”

The village elder, Sahim’s mother, welcomed you and was delighted that the two travelers were willing to help in the mysterious illness. She led the two of you into a hut nearby filled with rows of straw beds covered in cotton sheets with the patients resting on each one.

“Sahim says that they were uncharacteristically violent when they returned to the village,” The Doctor said to the elder.

You scan the room, patients with droopy eyes, or coughing into bloody rags, or are still yet to wake. They shiver and scrunch their faces in pain, sweat soaking their body. It was horrible. What could do such a thing? Some sort of foreign disease recently introduced or a parasite? The thought it could have contributed to the decline of the Indus Valley civilization had crossed your mind, but it couldn’t be the main reason. Many theories suggest that settlements along the Indus river were affected by floods.

“Yes,” she said with a solemn nod. She swept her hand over the room and sighed. “They came back, vandalizing houses, disturbing the animals - some went as far as killed some, and wrecked some of the crops. When the sun began to rise, they would collapse with a high fever, sick to the point of bedridden. The others are understandably scared and worried. Other farms had been affected before us as well. It is devastating.”

“Leave it to us, Elder.”

The elder gestured towards a woman tending to a patient. She adjusted her delicate headwrap and stood. “This is Sassui, my daughter-in-law,” the elder said, “She has been working the hardest to nurse them back to health. Sassui, these are travelers that are making their way to Mohenjo-daro. They offered to help in any way they can before heading to the city.”

“I’m the Doctor and this is my friend, (Y/n),” the Doctor introduced us.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Sassui said softly. She had a small smile on her face, but it seemed forced. Dark circles under her eyes and her movements seemed to be sluggish. She had been working nonstop with barely any rest.

As if reading your thoughts, the elder said, “You need some rest, Sassui.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just that my son hasn’t come back from trading in the market. I’m not sure what’s worse, that he had fallen victim to the sickness or he had fallen victim to gambling and spending money feverishly.”

The elder huffed. “That boy is going to get himself into trouble if he doesn’t sort himself out.” She then turned back to the Doctor. “Well, I’ll leave you in Sassui’s care.” With that, she left.

Sassui’s lips tightened into a thin line. “Shall we start with the first one?”

Luckily, some only needed herbal remedies and some rest to get their health back up. The rest needed something stronger.

You carried a bucket filled with dirty rags and plopped it down near their well. Sassui had asked you to soak them in water and get a separate bucket for the patients. You had just filled the first bucket when you heard galloping heading towards the village. You looked up and saw a young man, his face similar to Sahim with a dark beard outlining his jaw and black hair flowing down to his shoulders, riding on top of a camel with a satchel hanging at the back.

“Bodhi!” Sahim called out. The older man marched towards him and placed his fists at his hips. “It does not take this long to travel back to Jedha from the nearby city. Where are your cousins?”

The man, Bodhi, turned around and frowned. “Huh, could have sworn they were behind me,” he muttered. He hopped off his camel and tied them to the nearest post. “But, we did manage to sell a lot this week! Ah, there they are!”

His three cousins arrived much later, carrying the goods that they were able to buy at the market. They all headed over and tied up their mounts before unloading their satchels. “Hello, uncle,” they all greeted with a bow with their head before carrying their load over to the huts.

“See! And we used the money that we earned to buy the food and supplies that we need,” Bodhi said.

Sahim shook his head. “That much supplies are worth more than our goods could give us. What did you do?” Bodhi struggled to talk his way out of it under his father’s scrutinizing gaze.

“We sold all the goods and we got what we needed! What more do you want from me?” Bodhi snapped before carrying his satchel and storming away.

Sahim gave you an apologetic look before following after his son. You waited until they were both out of sight to continue your task for the second bucket. You busy trying to pull it back up from the well when a voice startled.

“Hey.” You let out an embarrassing squeak, dropping the pail down in the well again. You spun around and was met by two large brown eyes staring back at you in amusement. “Sorry about that. I’m Bodhi, by the way. My father says you arrived this morning.” He flashed you a bright contagious smile.

“I’m (Y/n),” you said, automatically sticking out your hand. He looked down at it and grabbed it tightly. You shook it and tried to let go, but he wouldn’t budge. “Um…”

Bodhi tilted his head to the side. “You’re very beautiful,” he said.

“Um.”

His eyes flickered to the well behind you. “I’ll help you with that. So you’re helping my mother with the sick, are you?”

“Yes. Me and my friend. Do you have an idea of how this could have happened?” you asked, watching him pull the pail back up.

“Well, many folks on my travels say that it’s demons. Spirits who’ve sinned before they died, coming back to spread sickness and anger. We call those the Pishacha.” He poured the water into the second bucket and lifted it up with ease. He gestured for you to lead the way.

“So, do you believe in those ghost stories?” you wondered, making your way back to the hut.

Bodhi shrugged. “Whatever it is, it’s costing the farm a lot of money. With less wheat and livestock to sell, means less money and not enough supplies to do repairs and care for the sick, let alone feed ourselves.”

“So, you try other ways to get more money,” you said.

Bodhi shot you a look. “Yes, exactly. You think differently of me now?”

“I never knew much about you to have an opinion in the first place,” you said truthfully, “But it sounds to me you still care about your family a lot. Enough to do risky things.”

You reached the hut when you noticed Bodhi wasn’t there. You turned around and saw Bodhi frozen in place with a curious look in his eyes, his arms hugging the bucket close to his chest. “Thank you,” he said softly, “You’ve been kind to me so far. Anything else you want me to do?”

“Well, help me finish up with these buckets and we’ll take it from there.”

“As you wish.”

#writersmonth2019 #Bodhi Rook x Reader #Bodhi Rook #Rogue One Imagine #Star wars imagine #Farmer boy!bodhi rook #Doctor Who imagine #Reader is the Doctor's companion #There were many wip ideas that I were able to get out and finish thanks to writer's month #This idea of reader meeting Bodhi in the past and... well spoilers #Anyways I've had this idea for a while and wondered I would be able to pull this off #Doctor Who #Riz Ahmed

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speroearchive · 4 years

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cassian andor is a slytherin & here is comprehensive evidence : a quote dump

slytherins tend to be ambitious, shrewd, cunning, strong leaders, and achievement-oriented. they also have highly developed senses of self-preservation. this means that slytherins tend to hesitate before acting, so as to weigh all possible outcomes before deciding exactly what should be done.

idk there’s like ~80 quotes & some are p self-explanatory but some i’ve included the reasons i think they show slytherin traits thanks bye

now the ring of kafrene was a deep-space trading post and stopover for the sector’s most desperate travelers. cassian andor counted himself among that number.

cassian tried to moderate his pace, to ride the crowd’s momentum rather than apply force.

he failed and imagined his mentor’s disappointment : the rebel alliance taught you better than that. -- ACHIEVEMENT-ORIENTED

but he had been traveling too long, from coruscant to corulag and onward, tugging at the loose threads of an elaborate tapestry that was outside the scope of his vision. he had paid dearly in time and credits and blood for precious little intelligence, for the reiteration of facts he’d already confirmed. he’d spent too much to return to base one empty-handed. his frustration was starting to show.

“ i came as fast as i could, ” cassian said. he stashed his paranoia in the back of his brain — out of the way but within easy reach. -- SHREWD

cassian shifted his weight and broadened his stance, blocking tivik’s path ; he wasn’t a large man, but he knew how to feign presence.

cassian sorted through the barrage of information, cross-referenced against what he already knew, and reprioritized his concerns.

he tried to bring to mind old reports, speculative intelligence documents, tech readouts, anything to put the lie to tivik’s words.

[ . . . ] cassian asked, trying to tamp down his own intensity. -- PLAY IT COOL

cassian sorted through them and found it was too much to deal with, a hand built of too many playing cards. tivik was on the verge of bolting, and cassian didn’t have time to figure out the right questions.

cassian cursed silently and made himself smile.

cassian kept his eyes off tivik. there was nothing he could do to coax the man into playing along, to urge him to make no move. he kept smiling his small, reassuring smile at the stormtroopers, even as his blood pumped fiercely with the promise of a weapon, a planet killer. -- CUNNING

“ we’ll be all right, ” cassian said. and for the third time that day, he squeezed the trigger on his blaster. -- SELF-PRESERVATION

he closed his eyes and sorted the cards in his hand

cassian moved toward jyn but feigned a respectful distance — one that would also give him space to maneuver if she lunged. -- SELF-PRESERVATION

while the general had tried to intimidate, cassian’s tone was casual and his eyes were keen. as if these were questions he’d ask over dinner to show he was interested in you as a person.

cassian’s warmth was all spent. his keenness was the keenness of an interrogator.

cassian resumed, apparently untroubled by the interruption and jyn’s mockery.

“ that is a bad idea. i think so, and so does cassian. ” -- ACHIEVEMENT-ORIENTED / CAN PUT ASIDE CONCERNS FOR MISSION GOAL

cassian — the intelligence operative, the spy, the casual liar — could be trouble. -- EPITOME OF SLYTHERIN TBH

left alone in the cabin, she took the opportunity to examine cassian’s duffel and its contents: nothing but gear. weapons and portable medpacs and signal boosters. no holoimage of a dutiful wife or tattered childhood security blanket. he packed impersonal and he packed light. -- SELF-PRESERVATION / NO ATTACHMENTS

jyn watched the humor, the warmth, evaporate in a flash. the expression of the calculating spy emerged.

the look of calculation, too, vanished, and jyn could no longer read him at all.

he kept his eyes averted and his tone matter-of-fact. he doubted she would respond well to pity.

he flicked through a deck of possibilities.

cassian channeled his irritation into a growl of anger—a sound he prayed resembled something a defiant captive might make.

cassian shook his head. wait for a chance, he mouthed. -- THINKS BEFORE ACTING

[ jyn ]’d already served that purpose, which meant she was now expendable. -- SELF-PRESERVATION

you’re a fool, cassian told himself. they won’t talk to you. but they’ll try to spot your weakness. -- SELF-PRESERVATION

he could definitely reach [ the lock ], suspected he could pick it, but not without triggering an alarm. -- SHREWD

cassian ran the name through his mental database and came up empty. -- INTELLIGENCE COMPILATIONS MAY COME IN HANDY

he’d feigned fatigue, leaning against the door’s bars so he could inspect the lock visually and find its make and model. he’d mentally cataloged the picks hidden in his boot and selected the tools he intended to use. he guessed he could escape the cell in under three minutes. -- CUNNING

he meant to sound gentle, but he heard urgency slip into his voice.

he dimly recalled the name from some alliance intelligence file — a planet somewhere in the outer rim. it was a thread cassian could follow.

an absurd, obsessive instinct in cassian urged him to ignore the quake, to keep the pilot talking, but he tamped down the compulsion enough to recognize the opportunity he’d been provided. -- SHREWD / ACHIEVEMENT-ORIENTED

realizing that he was imperiled by a menace unheard of in galactic history, and that he would survive or not according to his own skill.

leave her behind, as he’d left behind tivik on the ring of kafrene. as he’d left behind men on eiloroseint and chemvau …

he looked at her with a hint of surprise, swiftly hidden.

cassian was silent long enough that jyn thought she had a chance. “ i can’t risk sending that, ” he answered at last. -- THINKS BEFORE ACTING

cassian andor had made an error. like a hairline fracture in a blaster barrel, it was nearly invisible on cursory inspection. when its repercussions manifested, however, they would do so with devastating effect — cassian would very likely die, though that wasn’t what bothered him most.

they’d had opinions on the mission until it had gone south ; now they expected a solution from him. the only one he even trusted was the imperial droid. -- SELF-PRESERVATION

cassian debated whether to push harder or coddle the man.

he forced himself to moderate his voice, to sound reasonable.

he could have questioned the pilot, but his mood was still sour and he didn’t see the use.

it sounded too much like a lie for cassian to really believe it.

he made his voice hard, tried to erase any warmth that had sparked between him and the pilot. he couldn’t afford an argument now.

lie to him. tell him you need to keep galen alive and on eadu, and you don’t know what that shuttle could mean.

cassian would need a story for jyn. he knew that. she wouldn’t believe him no matter what he told her, but if he offered her something plausible and bodhi backed the portions of his tale that were true, she might not act rashly. she’d suspect cassian in the back of her mind, and he’d need to watch himself so long as they were together ; but the uncertainty might suffice to drag her down. -- SHREWD / CUNNING / SELF-PRESERVATION

destroying jyn — that’s what it would be, you can admit that much — was his best option. -- SELF-PRESERVATION

he’d assassinated better men than galen — an imperial collaborator, the man who’d built a planet killer, remorse be damned.

he was tired of crimes he never answered for.

by setting aside his rifle, he had forfeited his mission, betrayed his oaths — spoken and implicit — to draven and alliance intelligence. under other circumstances, such a betrayal might have felt freeing. as it was, he could do nothing while the man he’d spared was readied for execution.

he didn’t have time to consider how he could act on the information before his comlink hissed with static and k-2’s urgent voice came through. “ cassian, can you hear me ? ”

a thought sparked in his brain : if he found jyn, where would they go ? they were still trapped on eadu. but it didn’t matter ; didn’t change the immediacy of his needs. -- THINK BEFORE ACTING

cassian, who had betrayed [ jyn ]. -- SELF-PRESERVATION / CUNNING

he flinched like a man struck by a blow he’d known was coming. “ you’re in shock, ” he said. he met her stare, held it as he turned to face her fully. trying to bring her to heel.

his answer came instantly. “ you don’t know what you’re talking about. ”

“ you can’t talk your way around this, ” she said. “ i don’t have to, ” cassian snarled.

cassian came next, every bit the professional, reporting the story of ‘ operation fracture. ’ it was a story whose broad strokes — an attempt to contact saw gerrera regarding an imperial defector, an attack on the holy city by the death star itself — resembled the truth jyn knew.

then cassian was lying about eadu, calling it an aborted attempt to extract galen.

“ we’re spies. saboteurs. assassins. ” -- ADEPT AT LYING & DECEIT

“ it’s been a busy day,” he said, too dry to be devoid of humor. “ i didn’t need to see the whole briefing to know where it was going. ”

the emotion was gone from his voice, the confession done.

the man who’d admitted his guilt and decided to fight for her. He saw her staring and looked back at her quizzically.

and cassian, who had betrayed himself as easily as he had jyn. -- BRUH

cassian would do what was required of him.

cassian was tempted to ask bodhi to do a second flyby, but it wasn’t worth the risk of drawing suspicion.

cassian pictured the soldiers in the cabin below, scanned their faces and dossiers.

he made a note to ask [ bodhi ] about it before leaving the shuttle. -- ALWAYS COLLECTING POSSIBLY-USEFUL INFO

cassian stepped forward before anyone’s attention could drift.

cassian was being careful, showing nothing of his thoughts.

“ you know what you have to do, ” cassian answered.

cassian held his ground, staring down at her until his lips finally twitched into something like a smile. his eyes remained hard and troubled. jyn wasn’t sure if he’d gotten worse at hiding things or if she was simply getting to know him too well.

jyn saw something new flash across cassian’s expression. he was afraid — not intellectually afraid, not afraid of failing the mission, but afraid for k-2.

cassian had denied [ k-2 ] that exquisite sense of purpose and replaced it with individuality. -- BE URSELF

[ . . . ] despite having watched cassian lie masterfully time and again.

cassian’s hands were trembling, but his eyes were steady as he lowered his comlink.

when he thought about the people he cared about, the people who would have to carry on the fight against the empire and the death star ( the ones who hadn’t volunteered to come to scarif ), he could picture no one ; and that couldn’t be right. could it ? -- SELF-PRESERVATION / NO ATTACHMENTS

he’d told jyn : we’ve done terrible things on behalf of the rebellion. Some he remembered now —tivik, who’d made all this possible and been rewarded with death—but most, to cassian’s shame, he couldn’t bring to mind. he’d bartered his ideals and the lives of others away, one by one, to find a victory that would make it all worthwhile. yet as he watched the pulsing lights of the turbolift he felt keenly that neither victory nor defeat would change the terrible things in his past. jyn couldn’t give him what he’d come for. -- BAD THINGS FOR AMBITION

#tl;dr : he thinks before he acts / is constantly stockpiling info that could come in handy later / & k2 is his only emotional attachment #also he's a fantastic liar #ɪɪɪ. — ♤ ৲ ﹙ cassian cursed silently and made himself smile › chara study ﹚

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