#rogue one fic

[callioope]

EN GARDE

A rising star in youth fencing, Jyn Erso once hoped to compete at the Olympic level, until a change of circumstances compelled her to quit unexpectedly. Three years later, she still refuses to discuss the subject, even with family and former teammates. But it’s fine. She’s found other purpose. She’s even met a guy — he’s kind, smart, talented. There’s just one problem: he’s also an Olympic-level fencer. When she breaks off their burgeoning relationship, she’s forced to confront the truth about what she’s really running from and what she really wants.

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[colleybri]

One of the greatest hugs in any film

Interview question: “Do you think Cassian and Jyn would have managed to connect even more due to their shared life experiences if they had even more time?”

Diego Luna: “Obviously! What a good question. I think that hug represents everything that could have been but was not and everything that was too, because that hug meant they were part of something together and I believe that union lasts forever”.

One of the single best story decisions that was made in Rogue One was this incredible hug between Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor, as they await death from the blast of the Death Star.

It’s sad enough just in the context of the film. After Season 1 of Andor, it’s even more moving. I think some of us will be emotional wrecks after Season 2. 

One thing I’m starting to realise only now is how Jyn’s story, as revealed in the film (and the novelisation), reflects Cassian’s so much. She was also a child of war, displaced and effectively orphaned, adopted before being forced to embark on a new life. She had it even worse than him, in many ways. But just like him she had an early zeal to fight, which she similarly went on to lose because of the bitter pain that commitment caused. She becomes disillusioned and cynical about the Rebellion. It takes a combination of hard knocks and a resulting realisation of the desperate NEED to fight the Empire - in order to preserve all that they hold dear - to radicalise both of them to the extent that they are willing to sacrifice their lives for the cause.

Cassian is already in that place - he reached it five years before. But in Season 2 I expect we will see further challenges, see the desperately awful things he might have to do and what else he will need to sacrifice ahead of his actual life. Sacrifices that weasr down his soul, bit by bit. Luthen’s monologue hangs over everything. “ I burn my life for a sunrise I know I’ll never see.” It’s a bitter irony that Cassian is frequently placed in sun-rising imagery, culminating in the ‘sun’ of the explosion.

Jyn, in Rogue One, seems to be the spiritual shot in the arm that Cassian needs. In the same way that being inspired by his love for Clem, Maarva and Bix helps to spur him on in the Season 1 finale (when the chances of successfully rescuing Bix must seem non-existent)  Jyn seems to me to be the crucial reminder for Cassian of why he is doing all this in the first place. Her love for her father stops him from obeying the order to kill him. He just can’t do it. He can’t put someone he is growing to care about through the same agony he went through himself.

In the end, neither can live with themselves if they don’t fight. But both of them are fighting for the right reason: love.

The hug is platonic and therefore perfect because it’s universal, in a way: we can imagine - in their final seconds - that they can both see and feel the warmth and the arms of every single person in their lives who they ever loved in any form: parents, siblings, lovers, friends. And of course they also die feeling the arms of each other - bound together by their fight and sacrifice but also an embrace with someone they might have gone on to know, and to love, if the universe had been a kinder place. 

It’s one of the most perfect and beautiful death scenes in any film I’ve seen. 

But it’s also heart-crushingly sad. 

‘What could have been’. 

…..

Edit:

I think the earlier elevator scene is where they acknowledge the loss of what they could have had together. Cassian stares at Jyn with unblinking focus but he looks like he’s dying already from his injuries, and Jyn - not yet knowing for sure that she’s about to die too - looks completely devastated. By the time they reach the beach and see the blast approaching both of them look accepting of their fate… and I imagine that they can use their final moments to internally say their spiritual goodbyes to everyone they ever loved in their lives - and to each other. They are content to die together. They are at peace as they “become one with the Force”.

….

The sand is coarse on his fingers as he tightens the embrace and closes his eyes. Her face had been that of the last being he will see, and he is at peace with that. After all, she had already started to mend his broken soul and remind him of why he was doing all this in the first place. 

Love.

She is warm against him, her grip intensifying his physical pain, and intensifying whatever is going on now in his soul. They hug as if in the hope of keeping each other whole, the hope of somehow stopping the inevitable coming-apart. Almost as if to stop time and be forever in this state of in-between.

But there is no time at all. 

So he thinks he will imagine that the light is coming from her, her bright spirit - her hot molten core - soldering and melting them into one being. 

‘I don’t know where you end or where it is that I begin.’

Extract above from  ‘Dawn Chorus’ chapter 5:

Diego Luna interview:

’ I don’t know where you end or where it is that I begin’ - from the song ‘Vision’ by Peter Hammill.

[mostthingskenobi]

CASSIAN'S RECKONING - Chapter 25: The Heart

CHAPTER SUMMARY: As readers, you've earned this chapter. I hope you enjoy 💜 Jyn and Cassian know it's time to see where the cards fall and make a decision.

__________

READ IT ON AO3- Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1 “The Razor”

READ CHAPTER 2 “The Scythe”

READ CHAPTER 3 “The Cold”

READ CHAPTER 4 “The Expendable”

READ CHAPTER 5 “The Truth”

READ CHAPTER 6 “The Detritus”

READ CHAPTER 7 “The Salt”

READ CHAPTER 8 “The Power”

READ CHAPTER 9 “The Betrayal”

REACH CHAPTER 10 “The Ruse”

READ CHAPTER 11 “The Reprieve”

READ CHAPTER 12 “The Ghosts”

READ CHAPTER 13 “The Redemption”

READ CHAPTER 14 “The Spoils”

READ CHAPTER 15 “The Interrogation”

READ CHAPTER 16 “The Rogues”

READ CHAPTER 17 “The Absolution”

READ CHAPTER 18 “The Reach”

READ CHAPTER 19 “The Hologram”

READ CHAPTER 20 “The Divide”

READ CHAPTER 21 “The Cost”

READ CHAPTER 22 “The Fallout”

READ CHAPTER 23 “The Wounds”

READ CHAPTER 24 “The Hand”

READ CHAPTER 25 "The Heart"

READ CHAPTER 26 “The Beginning”

[pedropascallme]

Silence the Night

Pairing: sick!Cassian x gn!Reader

Summary: “Maneuvering yourself out of bed and to a standing position, you didn’t even bother shouting at him to stop pounding at the door, fully aware of his stubborn disposition and the way it coupled so perfectly with his incessant need to bug you. You opened the door and Cassian quickly lowered his fist to his side, smiling widely.”

Warnings: None :) Comfort and fluff with sick Cass.

AN: Post-Andor S1, pre-Rogue One. Yeah this plot makes little to no sense but give a girl a break. Sometimes I need to write silly little things about my silly little babygirl. 

“Let me in.”

You flipped yourself over, staring at the ceiling from the comfort of your bunk having been pulled from your admittedly light sleep by the familiar voice on the other side of the door. There was no time for idling in the rebel barracks; meals were eaten quickly, conversations were cut short, sleep was not a given, and neither was coming home at the end of the day. Suffice to say, despite the stifled urgency in Cassian’s voice, you hesitated to let him in after the rude awakening he had caused you after a day of running in every direction. 

You heard a near whine of your name as Cassian continued his plea for you to open up. “I know you’re here. Come on!” He knocked on the metal that divided the two of you, then let out what you assumed was a sneeze. Maneuvering yourself out of bed and to a standing position, you didn’t even bother shouting at him to stop pounding at the door, fully aware of his stubborn disposition and the way it coupled so perfectly with his incessant need to bug you. You opened the door and Cassian quickly lowered his fist to his side, smiling widely. His sunken eyes were red around the edges and glassy. You frowned.

“See, there you go!” He pushed past you and into your room, “Not so hard to just open up.” He stripped off the tan jacket he loved so dearly and threw it onto the chair pushed into the small desk that took up the far-left corner of the room before falling backwards onto your bunk, arms spread above his head. He had gotten as comfortable in your room as you had in his; most intervals between flight patrol were spent together, most meals were eaten together, most secrets shared. He was the first person that had made you feel like you were meant to be rebelling, he had put effort into showing you that you had a place in these barracks and in this fight—and it didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes, though he could be a pain in the ass.

 “Cassian,” you closed the door, flicking on the overhead light as you turned to face him, watching him blink to get used to the brightness, “why are you here?”

“Ouch.” He moved a hand to cover his chest, shielding his heart from your words.

“Why are you here right now?”

“To hang out with you.” He rolled over on the mattress and shifted his body upwards to grab your pillow and cradle it to his chest.

“I can’t—” You hardly managed to get the words out before he was tsking you.

“You’re not on the schedule for the next 8 hours.” He chided.

“I want to use those to sleep!”

“So, sleep. I’ll stay here.” He sat up and patted the place beside him to coax you toward him. You crossed your arms. 

“Cassian.” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes?” He sneezed again, trying to muffle it in his shoulder.

“Are you sick?” 

“No. Allergies.” He was trying to sound confident, but the quick counter gave away his defensive attitude. 

“You’re an awful liar. Get off my bed.” You walked over to him, attempting to pull him off the bunk to no avail. 

He protested by going limp and falling onto his back. “Let me stay.” He looked up at you, brown eyes pleading and hair falling over his forehead. “I can be quiet.”

“No, you can’t. And I’m more worried about you getting me sick.” 

“I won’t!” He sneezed, then smiled at you sheepishly.

You sighed, looking over at the clock on the desk and taking in the fact that arguing with Cassian had, per usual, taken up far more time than it was worth. You sat next to him, defeated. He hummed in content.

“I’m going to sleep.” You waved him off as he sat up to meet your gaze. “Are you just going to sit and watch me? Like some beady-eyed porg?”

“I’ll sleep, too.” He resigned to the fact that, although he had won a battle, you would not forgo the rest you so desperately wanted. You made a noise of approval, reaching for the pillow he had moved to the foot of the bed so that you could put it back in its necessary position. You crawled under the sheet and watched as Cassian took off his boots before turning off the light and coming to lie next to you. He positioned himself above the sheet, letting out a string of coughs and resting his head at a distance from yours on the other pillow.

“Don’t cough on me.” You mumbled, closing your eyes.

“I didn’t cough on you.” 

“You coughed near me.”

“That’s not at all the same thing.” He turned his head to look at you, waiting to see if he could goad you into another argument. You swatted at his chest. 

It wasn’t unusual to share a bed with another person on the base; between away missions and overcrowding and all the drills, you couldn’t count on all your fingers and toes the times you had huddled into a cot with another rebel. It was always more welcome when that rebel was Cassian, not only because of the familiarity you felt around him, not only because of the attraction to him that you tried to keep at bay, but mostly because of the blanket of protection he seemed to offer you. He was by no means a watchdog—he slept far too deeply to offer any sort of intruder alert—but his frame felt like a sort of safe haven from the galaxy at large. You had never found the courage to admit that to him, and expected that if you ever did, the confession would be met with his usual ribbing. 

Cassian made a low rumbling sound, turning his head away from you to face the wall. You groaned, turning on your side toward him. “Cough.” He did. “Don’t torture yourself on my account, Cass.” You settled back into the mattress in your new position, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t want to disturb you.” He whispered, ignoring the fact that you had addressed him at a normal volume, keeping up the front of really not wanting to get in the way of the sleep you craved. You kicked him lightly from under the sheet and he sneezed in your direction. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you kicked at him again, “and get under the blanket.”

“Why?”

“You’ll sweat out whatever it is you have.” Ultimately, your true intention was to be closer to him, to have him surround you more, but the concept of him recovering from whatever it is he had caught was an appealing one if this is how he was going to act while ill. He relented, pushing himself off the bed with his shoulders and feet to shimmy the sheet down and back over his legs and torso. You remained on your side with him on his back, trying to ignore the way his profile looked and the sounds of chatter and machinery outside your room. It was hard to imagine a life beyond all the pandemonium; at this point in your life, you had gotten used to the all-encompassing cacophony of the galaxy. Having been so young when the Senate came crashing down and the Empire formed from its ashes, there were times where it felt like noise was the only constant, and there was worry that accompanied the thoughts that maybe you would only ever know the tumult of the Empire—the screams and jeers and hushed conversations over fears that, at a certain and much earlier time, would have felt so outlandish, were now just a backing score. You rubbed your eyes and went back to tracing the shape of Cassian’s nose with your eyes. He turned himself on his side to face you, opening his eyes and staring back at you.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered, for some reason now genuinely feeling the need to stay hushed.

“We should see if there’s any soup tomorrow…” You murmured, trying to bury yourself into your pillow. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed to have been caught staring after putting up such a fight to allow you to fall asleep, it was more so the thought of having been using him as a distraction from the doubt you were plagued with.

“You’re also a terrible liar.” He traced back of his hand over your cheek in an effort to get you to emerge from your pillow. You turned back to him, grateful for the contact he was giving you. You took his hand from your cheek and clasped it in your own.

“What if it’s all for nothing.” You managed to whisper. You didn’t need to clarify what it was you meant, he of all people knew that any effort against the Empire was a long shot.

“It isn’t.” He was blunt, and you didn’t have to look at him to know his face was painted with the same thousand-yard stare you had grown accustomed to seeing him wear. Sometimes you felt guilty when it came to burdening Cassian with your cynicism and all the dread you harbored. He had told you about his childhood, about his foray into the rebellion, detailed how he had overcome all odds—and all you had given in return was your hesitation. 

“And if it is?” He examined you, his smile faded slightly, and even in the darkness of your room you could see how his eyes darted over your face.

“At least we’re doing it together.” He squeezed your hand. It wasn’t a complete answer, not that you had expected one. Nobody on the base would ever bring themselves to really contemplate the repercussions of the whole operation, of any greater failures. Still, the confidence in Cassian’s voice was enough to bring you peace of mind for now, at least. The two of you stayed like that, looking at each other, fingers intertwined and breathing in sync. 

“I feel safer with you, Cassian.” You broke the silence, feeling that now was as good a time as any to disclose the information to him. He said nothing, continuing to look at you and ruminating in the quiet. For a brief moment you felt the sting of rejection, but before you could come to terms with the idea that your confession had gone unheeded, you felt Cassian wrap an arm around you. He pulled you closer to him, pushing his other arm underneath your side to fully sweep you into his embrace. You felt his legs tangle with your own and the room felt soundless; something about how you felt his breath fan the top of your head or how his hands felt spread over your back made you feel a stillness you hadn’t thought possible. 

“You are safe with me.” He mumbled into your hair, and you leaned into him in an attempt to get as close as you possibly could. You felt his heart beating into you from the position you held, and you made a small sound of what was meant to be appreciation. You basked in the quiet, the calm seeping into your aching body and taking hold of your mind, settling your thoughts and insecurities. All you knew in this instant was Cassian, and his warmth, and his voice, and the way he smelled like smoke and x-wing grease and Alliance issued soap. You breathed deeply against him. He made another guttural sound.

“Cough, Cassian.” You whispered against his chest, and he did, trying not to interfere with the comfort you both felt in the newfound arrangement you had found yourselves in. “I was serious about the soup.”

“Mm,” he grunted, “like you were serious about sweating it out?” You smiled, moving your face slightly upwards so you could feel the soft skin of his neck against your nose. He kissed your forehead, his lips making gentle contact and staying pressed to you for a stretch. “Terrible liar.” He chuckled, letting his head drop comfortably on the pillow you now shared. You wriggled an arm out from between your bodies to swat at him again. He sneezed.

[nooowestayandgetcaught]

.. / .-.. --- …- . / -.-- --- ..- .-.-.-

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~1k, Jyn Erso/Cassian Andor, G-rating, Canon AU Summary: Jyn receives a (almost) indecipherable message from Cassian while he's finding them a way off Yavin.

[onthesandsofdreams]

Anything Can Happen

Fandom: Rogue One Pairing: Cassian Andor x Jyn Erso (pre relationship) Summary: When Jyn had been young, she had asked her mother about finding love. And Lyra, in her infinite wisdom had told her: Anything can happen, sweetheart. Tagging: @flashfictionfridayofficial Gifted to: @mousedetective

On AO3

When Jyn had been young, she had asked her mother about finding love. And Lyra, in her infinite wisdom had told her: Anything can happen, sweetheart.

And now, as she stared at the coffee covered man standing wide eye in front of her, she got it. Rush hour at Rook's Café could be a nightmare, and this was now the result, a man had all but thrown her backwards in his rush to get to his order, her hand wobbling and a sudden, 'Chingado!' from behind told her everything she needed to know.

And when she turned to apologize, she found herself face to face to a very handsome man, with sad brown eyes that made her want to take him home and cook him a meal. But her heart had skipped at beat, and she finally understood what her mother meant. Anything can happen indeed.

She braced herself, "I am sorry, it was an accident."

The man gave her a rueful smile, "I know, I saw it. That pendejo nearly threw you backwards."

"Yeah, he did." She looked at his stained sweater. "Sorry about the sweater, if you'd like I'd pay for the cleaning." Oh how she wanted him to accept, if only for her to know more of him.

The man shakes his head, "Nah, it was an accident. Besides, this one is machine wash, thankfully." Then, he gives her a smile that has butterflies fluttering in her stomach. "Cassian Andor, nice to meet you."

Her mind screeches to a halt. Cassian fucking Andor. Best selling novelist of fantasy and sci-fi stories. The man whom she had been gushing to Bodhi a few days ago. Notoriously private and reclusive author Cassian fucking Andor. Keep it together, Jyn, she reminds herself. "Jyn Erso, lovely to meet you. Can I at least buy you something? I feel bad about the sweater."

Cassian gives her a smile, "How about a tea, and your company for a while if you're not busy?"

Fuck going home and painting, her plans have changed. "Not busy, and yes, I can get you a tea. Any specific one?"

"Surprise me," Cassian says. "I'll get us a table."

"Sure, I'll be right there." She turns to find Bodhi smirking at her, and when she glares, he gives subtle thumbs up. She walks towards him. "You knew," she hisses.

"Surprise!"

"I am going to kill you."

"Nope, you won't. Now, give me your order, I'll make it myself, perks of ownership. I'll take it to your table, go and fangirl."

"He wants a tea, a latte for me now that mine is mostly on his sweater." She narrows her eyes. "Don't say anything."

"My lips are sealed."

She turns and walks towards the table where Cassian waits. Anything can happen indeed, mother.

[incognitajones]

fixed and erring and far and steadfast!

(Answered here as well) This is the "Baze returns to Jedha" story that you graciously listened to me ramble on about a while ago! I made a canon error which was discouraging, but I believe I've figured out a way to use it as a plot point so I'm counting that as a win 🎆

A solar lantern flickered to life, its light wan and pale against the gloom of a high-ceilinged chamber filled with nothing but echoes. The light caught on carved faces of ancient Guardians and Disciples, avatars, animals, saints, and demons gazing down upon old burial niches, and the last remaining members of the Whills. They stood in a loose circle surrounding the lantern, propped on a broken altar stained black where long ago worshippers had burned sacred fires.

[starsofkyber]

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor & Jyn Erso Characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso Additional Tags: Rebelcaptain - Freeform, Post-Battle of Scarif (Star Wars), Everybody Lives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Another post-Scarif moment for you my lord, Mild discussion of medical injuries Summary:

This has happened before--he’s floated in and out of darkness, coming so close to grasping onto consciousness before descending once again into a dreamless stasis. But now there is something new. There’s a clarity to his thoughts, a sharpness behind his eyes that demands he wake up and assess the situation, target any dangers that might be lurking, get back on his feet and get ready to fight.

Cassian can’t imagine how useful he’ll be in a fight, though, considering he’s dead.

[therebelcaptain]

it feels a little awkward to self-promote, but fuck it: i wrote a short rebelcaptain fic in which i self-indulgently dream up a scenario where jyn and cassian kinda sorta cross paths before rogue one when cassian is undercover on ord mantell and then jyn recognizes him when she's brought in to work with the rebellion. (is it because i keep trying to dream up ways that we could possibly see jyn in season 2 of andor? 100%! a girl can dream, can't she?)

anyway it's my first time sharing any kind of writing, so i'm pretty nervous to share as i'm not suuuuper confident in my creative writing skills, but i really enjoyed writing it, so i thought i'd share! there's a lil excerpt below if you wanna check it out :)

Cassian had just pulled on his parka when Jyn spoke for the first time since takeoff.

“We’ve met before, haven’t we? In a manner of speaking.” 

She paused for a moment. Cassian could feel her eyes on him as he began fastening his zipper, carefully measuring his response before continuing. “Only you weren’t exactly… you.”

Cassian zipped up his parka and turned to meet her gaze; his curiosity was piqued. 

“I’ve had many different names and faces, so I wouldn’t be surprised if we had,” Cassian hedged in response. He wanted to see if she could place him for sure.

Jyn Erso was not the first person who ended up working with the Rebel Alliance after an encounter with him in his capacity as an undercover Rebel Intelligence agent. As it were, their encounter was so incredibly brief that it could barely even be classified as one. Regardless, Cassian should have known that Jyn would be the only one to pinpoint him exactly—she was Saw Gerrera’s surrogate daughter, after all.

“Ord Mantell,” she said matter-of-a-factly. A quietly confident smile spread across her features when Cassian visibly stiffened in response. “I knew you were too good-looking to be an Imp.”

“I don't pose as an Imp there,” Cassian countered, pointedly ignoring the backhanded compliment. “I’m a contractor.”

[jynrso]

bring the fire

this isn't technically for rebelcaptain smut month, since it doesn't really follow any of the prompts, but when i saw that it was happening, i was like "oh! i've got an unwritten piece of rc smut i should finish!" and here we are!

title from "heat stroke" by black math -- which is a song i have in my jyn playlist and the instrumental part is absolutely something i can see playing in the background of one of her fight scenes

read it on ao3!

Hoth is cold. Too damn cold. So much so that Jyn would rather be on Tatooine right now, her skin melting off from the heat, bounty on her head be damned. 

She’s never done well in the cold. Maybe it’s because she’d been born in prison on an ice planet, the chill having snuck into her bones when she’d come into the world and hasn’t left her since. Old wounds ache underneath her skin, her hands stiff and sore, and she sinks further into the cocoon of blankets, only her eyes exposed above them. 

Without having to say anything, she knows that Cassian can feel the weight of her stare against his back as he gets ready for bed. She huffs out an annoyed breath when he has the audacity to wink at her as he shrugs off his parka painstakingly slow; she’d accuse him of doing it on purpose if she hadn’t seen for herself how cold affects him, too. 

With a stifled groan, he finally slips beneath the covers and Jyn moves to him immediately, curling up against his side and getting as close as she possibly can before he’s even settled. After taking a few seconds to shift until he’s in a comfortable position, he wraps his arms around her so she’s properly slotted in front of him. 

And since she’s a kind fucking person, she waits before sticking her feet (ice cold even with socks on) on his shins, leeching off of his warmth. 

Cassian curses and she grins to herself. But to his credit, he doesn’t pull away from her; eventually, her shivering subsides and she hums in contentment, her body feeling lighter than it has all day now that she’s properly warm. 

“You really don’t like the cold, do you,” he observes quietly, breaking the silence between them. It’s not a question. 

“Nice use of your spy skills,” she replies sourly. Pain pulses between her temples. It shouldn’t surprise her that he’s able to read her so easily, especially not when she’s made no attempt to hide her dislike of Hoth, but it’s still unsettling for someone to see her so transparently. (She is still learning what it means to be loved.)   “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how often you wince when you think no one’s looking.” 

He sighs but doesn’t rise to meet her bait. Instead, he says neutrally, “I’ll have to steal some more blankets from the quartermaster, then.” 

And just like that, the annoyance inside of her deflates. Her eyes close briefly, hating how her first reaction had been to bristle rather than agree to a fact that they both know to be true. 

In a silent apology, she twists her upper body to face him properly, propping herself up on an elbow. It exposes her to the chill of the room but she’s willing to bear it for a few seconds. He frowns, mouth parting as if to ask her something, but she merely leans down and catches his lips with hers. 

It begins innocently enough but quickly grows more heated. When she breaks away to take a breath, he gently nudges her back down to the bed with her back facing his front. Then, he pulls the covers back up over her and begins to kiss her way down her jawline to her neck. 

Goosebumps break out across her skin but it’s not from the cold. When his teeth scrape against the skin underneath her ear, she shivers. 

“None of us like the cold,” he murmurs quietly. “It’s not just you.” 

She sighs, shoulders hunching inward. “I’ve never lived anywhere this cold. I hate it – it reminds me of. . .” 

Days spent in the cave on Lah’mu, cold and dark, waiting for her parents to come for her and seeing Saw instead. Nights spent curled up on the street, shivering instead of sleeping. The relentless chill of Wobani, biting into her bones no matter how much sweat she worked up each day.  

“. . .Things I’d rather forget,” she settles on finally. “Of. . .Lahmu. And the days after Saw left me. And. . .” she swallows. “Wobani.” 

Cassian hums against her skin, pulling her closer and tightening his arms around her. She tenses at first but it doesn’t feel like a cage. His grip is loose enough that she could pull away if she wants to but she doesn’t, slowly settling back against him. It feels. . .safe. 

(When’s the last time––)

“Fest was ––  is an ice planet,” he tells her, voice quiet, almost reverent. A bit of his past in exchange for what she’s given him. “I don’t remember much of it –– but it wasn’t like this. Even on the coldest days. . .” 

He trails off. She doesn’t let the silence sit for long. 

“You didn’t worry about freezing your dick off?” she cuts in smoothly. 

Her antics are rewarded with a barely-there laugh –– as good as a guffaw from someone as schooled as Cassian. She smiles to herself, hidden by where her cheek presses into the pillow, but that smile quickly turns into a sigh of pleasure when he resumes mapping out her neck with his lips. 

“It’s a good thing you’re here to keep me warm.” 

One of her eyebrows ticks upward. “You asking me to make sure your dick doesn’t freeze off, Captain?” 

“Merely observing,” he replies calmly, as if her hand isn’t already snaking between them and slipping beneath his sweater and his sleep shirt. He lets out a strained exhale when her cold fingers touch his bare abdomen, skirting over an old blaster wound. “Stars, Jyn––” 

“I could always stop,” she replies, toying with the waistband of his pants. As if in revenge, one of his hands begins to drift lower, brushing against her breast and slipping down the planes of her stomach. His featherlight touch is the last thing she wants; she arches up to try and increase the pressure but Cassian only tuts in her ear and moves away despite her groan of frustration. 

So he wants to tease? Fine. Two can play that game. 

“You know,” she says idly, barely managing to hide the breathlessness in her voice. “I was planning on jerking you off. But now I’m not going to.” 

Cassian huffs out a laugh, his breath puffing against her neck. But the way his hips grind into her backside tells her just how much her words have affected him. “You are a piece of work, Jyn Erso.” 

“Nice try, but compliments aren’t going to get you a handjob,” she replies primly. 

“Let me convince you otherwise,” he murmurs into her ear. Finally –– finally –– he slips a hand beneath her pants, his fingers just barely brushing against her clit. A shaky sigh escapes her lips, growing wetter and wetter despite his touch only ghosting against her skin. 

“Cassian,” she says threateningly, though her voice loses some of its steel when his other hand thumbs at her breast through the material of her shirt. She grinds back against him; when his hips jerk up unconsciously at her touch, letting him rut up on her. He grunts into her ear and she can only imagine how he looks right now: eyes closed, breath coming in short pants, forehead pressed–– oh. 

His index finger slips past her folds and rocks inside of her, hand twisting so his calloused thumb can rub circles around her clit. All thoughts leave her head as her hips move against him, head thrown back against the pillow and eyes closed, slowly fucking herself on his finger.

“So wet for me,” he breathes, voice gravelly. A small moan slips past her lips when his other hand slips under her shirt, squirming against him. He gets to work sucking a bruise on her neck, teeth scraping against her skin in time with the motion of his hand. 

The only sounds in the room are her quiet pants, his fingers pistoning in and out of her cunt, and his groans when she brushes against his straining cock. She grabs his arm tightly, nails digging into his skin, but the small bites of pain only seem to spur him on further. 

It doesn’t take long for him to add another finger, stretching her out around him. With her free hand, she shoves her pants and underwear further down her thighs. Then, she shifts, widening her legs so he can have better access, hooking her foot back up against his leg, and opening herself up further. 

Her underwear is soaked –– she’s dripping down his hand and onto the sheets beneath them. But at this moment, she can’t find it within herself to care about the mess. All her mind can focus on is the feeling of Cassian inside of her, how quickly he can find that one spot that quickly sends her hurtling to the edge. 

“Once we get off this planet, I’m going to take my time with you,” he tells her, voice ragged and thick with his desire. “I’ll eat you out until you’re shaking around me, until you can’t remember anything except for my name.” 

She bites her lip, eyes closed so tightly she sees stars. A curse slips off her tongue at the imagery combined with the way his fingers speed up inside of her. 

But she’s not one to let him say those kinds of things without retaliation.

 “Next time we ship out, I’m –– ah –– going to fuck you into the mattress,” she pants, tongue darting out to taste the salt on her lip. “You’ll let me do whatever I want to you, won’t you, Cassian? You’ll be so good for me ––  just like you are now .” 

The resulting moan her words receive makes the difficulty of getting them out while he’s knuckle-deep inside of her all the more worth it. The sound of it only serves to make her wetter –– and it only serves to make him speed up and increase his efforts. 

“Come on, Jyn,” he urges her, pulling her closer. His thumb passes directly over her clit and she gasps. “I know you’re close. I can feel how tight you are. Come on.” 

That’s all it takes for her to slip over the edge, her body lit up from within as his talented fingers push her over the brink. She twists, needing his lips against hers, and he meets her eagerly, swallowing down her moans as she comes. 

His hand remains on her cunt and he guides her through the aftershocks, leaving her a shivering mess in his arms. When he finally pulls free from her pants, he slowly sucks his fingers clean in his mouth, eyes darkening as he does so. 

“I’d say you’ve earned your reward,” she says breathlessly, shifting onto her back. Her body buzzes, pleasantly warm. She’s wrung out and completely sated. 

He props himself up on his elbow and bows his head to meet her lips once again, though the kiss is sweeter and less heated than before. There’s something in his eyes that she doesn’t quite recognize. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

“I want to,” she replies. “Someone’s got to keep your dick from freezing off – might as well be me, yeah?” 

He looks at her for a moment, then breaks, eyes crinkling with amusement, shaking his head. 

She shifts and gently pushes him onto his back, eager to take him apart the same way that he’d done for her. She draws the blankets over both of them and settles next to him, spitting in her hand before sliding her hand beneath his pants and moving straight for his cock. 

Cassian’s sharp intake of breath tells her that he’d expected her to tease him like he had her. Instead, she grins, sharp and feral, twisting her wrist over his hard shaft, brushing her thumb over the tip as she does so. 

“All this from just getting me off?” she asks idly, pressing herself up against his side. She nudges his chin up with her nose, giving her better access to his jaw and neck. Unlike him, she doesn’t pick a spot that he can cover up easily; she wants the whole base to know that Cassian Andor belongs to her. 

(Just as she does to him.) 

He shudders beneath her touch, his back arching up against the bed. But just as she senses he’s getting close to his release, she slows her hand, grip loosening. Just as she’d planned, he groans in disappointment, a curse leaving his lips. “Jyn.” 

She shushes him, moving to kiss him again. He surges up against her, one of his hands tangling in her hair, nails scraping against her scalp. 

“Easy, Captain,” she murmurs against his lips, knowing exactly what the use of his title does to him when he whines softly. “I’ve got you. You’re being so good for me .” 

He shakes, more so when she once again wraps her slick palm against his cock, deciding to put him out of his mercy. She increases her speed and she knows he’s close once he starts fucking up against her hand, hips moving unconsciously as he desperately chases his release. 

One of his hands grips the sheets beneath him, nails digging into the fabric. The other one reaches up, touching any part of her he can: her cheek, her neck, her breasts. “Jyn, please. . .” 

Then, in an echo of his earlier words to her, she leans forward and breathes into his ear, “Come on, Cassian. Come on.” 

That’s all it takes for him to spill over her hand, his body tense as he comes so beautifully beneath her. She strokes him lightly, coaxing more of his release out of him until he’s completely spent. But she waits until he’s watching to remove her hand from him, licking off the mess he made as she meets his heady gaze. He bites back a curse at the sight of her, eyes darkening. 

But as much as she wants to stay and wreck him further, they have an earlier meeting tomorrow morning. Reluctantly, she pulls away from him after one last kiss and slips from the bed, swearing a blue streak when her feet touch the frigid floor. 

“If I hear you laughing over there,” she threatens, nearly running to the ‘fresher to clean herself up, “I’m never jerking you off ever again.” 

To his credit, she doesn’t hear him laughing –– but that doesn’t mean he isn’t. Damned spy.

It only takes her a few seconds to wipe off her skin before she leaps back into bed. Since she’s in a charitable mood, she even brings back a cloth for Cassian –– though he’s on his own once she dives back beneath the covers. 

He, too, makes quick work with the clean-up process. Once he’s finished, he pulls her back to him, face-to-face, their limbs tangling together. With a tenderness that causes her chest to ache, he tucks the corners of the blankets around her so none of the cold air can sneak its way into her cocoon. 

Before settling back down, he kisses her forehead gently. Neither of them says anything but it passes in the air between them; she responds when she pulls him closer, arms snaking around his back and pressing her face against his heart. 

She still doesn’t like Hoth. But at least she has someone to keep her warm.

[theputterer]

Chapters: 27/27 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Fringe (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus Characters: Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, Galen Erso, Baze Malbus, Chirrut Îmwe, Bodhi Rook, Mon Mothma, K-2SO (Star Wars) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Science Fiction, Dubious Science, Slow Burn, Jyn vs the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known, Cassian vs Love as a Force of Fearlessness, Background Relationships Summary:

In a warehouse in Boston, mysterious crystals seemingly blossom overnight. A crime syndicate in Harlem uses super cells to develop a form of telekinesis. A subliminal messaging system on the dark web causes brain tumors. An energy clip fires lasers without needing to be reloaded.

Something is happening. And it's up to a small, unique FBI task force to investigate it.

As the pieces start to connect, it becomes increasingly clear: There is more than one of everything.

[A FRINGE AU]

---

a full year later, and this Long (LOOOONNNGGG) National Nightmare is done. thanks to everyone who came along for the ride. it truly has been a weird one.

xoxo, theputterer

[r0gerr0ger]

White Light

(1469 words)

Eventually, perhaps, they might have told her. Might have recovered from that day and all that came after. Time and distance making it easier to confess. But as it is, they don’t get the time. Or the distance. Because they are not supposed to be alive. And that catches up with them, in the end. Like she knew it would. It catches up with all of them. (Like a wave of white light. Consuming, consuming, consuming.)

[colleybri]

Together, on this beach

(Rebelcaptain appreciation week day 1 prompt: Significant Moments)

I would have loved to cook for you, on a beach like this.

Freshly caught fish, perhaps, cooked simply on a fire in a pit in the sand. No salt required as the sea lingers on their skins. Maybe a little pepper if we had some. The scent of the cooking brings you near and you watch as I turn the fish on their skewers, the skin blackening and popping a little with the moisture. I see the need in your eyes as you ask: “Is it ready yet?”. That same hunger in your eyes that first held me in their tight grip made literal here - and I catch a child-like gleam in them now as you bend nearer to look and to allow the sound and smells of my cooking to entice you. “You’re a man of hidden talents, Captain Andor,” you flirt, unashamedly, and I have to shoo you away as the need to just keep looking at you is too strong and I don’t want this meal to be anything other than perfectly cooked. But you keep coming back to where I kneel before the fire, distracting me by embracing me from behind and watching on, your chin resting on my shoulder, until the meal is finally ready. Then I watch you try to guzzle like a child, and you yelp when a bone pricks your mouth. And you also burn your tongue and your fingers too because you are so impatient and impetuous and run headlong into eating as you do into many things. And afterwards you start to lick the juices from your fingers and at the sight of that my own hunger becomes too much. We clean each other’s fingers, then each other’s lips.

We have strong appetites.

I would have loved to dance with you, on a beach like this.

To music of our own imagining, or drifting in from the distance because we are alone, together, as we dance on the shoreline. The water laps around our bare feet. The sun sets and the first stars emerge. The air stays warm, and we dance on. You like to lead, sometimes. I let you guide me, feeling your gentle but insistent support. I am strong and whole again, and your fingers feel good against the muscles of my arms as we dip and sway, and you trust me absolutely now. It ‘goes both ways’ - and so do we. Our movements are graceful, balanced, organic and united. We are like one being, perhaps some strange yet beautiful creature from the sea, come to shore this quiet night to flirt a little with the land. Who needs a ballroom on Coruscant or Chandrila and who needs fine clothes; your combat gear is as beautiful to me as any flowing gown, and far more real. And when we finally tire of dancing I will enjoy unwrapping you like a present I thought I could not possibly ever deserve again.

I would have loved to lie with you, on a beach like this.

Our only blanket, the warm night sky. Our bed, the sand: soft courseness, tactile, getting everywhere. You grumble “This will be shedding every time I shower for weeks,” and we laugh, easily, as if we have known each other for years. Enough phosphorence in the gently lapping waters to allow us to see each other, clearly. The softness of your skin, soothing on my scars. The softness of your eyes, soothing on my soul. Like the tide, we rise and fall - the rhythm of the waves in each movement. Sometimes a gentle sea. Sometimes a storm. Always in motion as one.

And we cry as we make love. Happy or heartbroken or both. I kiss the salt warmth of your tears as your body stiffens with another sweet climax, and your cries on each crashing wave of pleasure pull at my heart all over again and I weep too because all sex like this is built on the knowledge that this time, this most clear and beautiful ‘now’, might be the last. I had always had trouble, before, saying ‘goodbye’. As if never saying goodbye would keep goodbyes at bay, somehow. But now I know our final goodbye gives life meaning, and true beauty has sadness too amidst the pleasure. So we relish the before, and the after too, and each moment in between of the long warm night. The next moment and the next until the moments run out. And soon enough I don’t think, for each of those nows, of everything I’ve lost - but concentrate on what I’ve gained instead: the knowledge that I tried my best. Hope.

You.

I would have loved to sit with you, on a beach like this, and watch a sunrise.

And that, I have. We have.

Your arms are strong and supportive, and you have supported my soul as well as my broken body. In the elevator, you realised you were losing me and I wanted to comfort you, but I could hardly breathe for the agony and it was only the sight of you that kept me from fainting. But I wanted to see you without your own pain on your beautiful face and I could hardly stand it and almost wanted to look away, but I couldn’t and I didn’t. Feeling the life draining away I wanted the light of your face shining on me through the coming darkness. But I didn’t want to give you the pain of seeing my pain and I’m sorry that you did.

So in a way, seeing the blast and our clean, painless and mutual death coming… gives me strength again. I can comfort you, and myself, knowing this. I can rally myself one last time and give you what I know I would have wanted. The same message I needed, and didn’t get, on the beach at Niamos.

I give you the love of your father. My final gift of words.

You take it so gratefully, and gift me in turn with your hand, taking mine, and then the warmth of your embrace. And you hold me and support me again as you have held and supported me throughout this last vital mission, when I realised I could recommit to everything I believe and learn to love again through you and with you - side by side and heart in heart.

The Rebellion came first. We took what was left.

In this life, we couldn’t have more than this. But we have had this. We will always have had it.

So in my mind and in my heart, and in this universe and in much kinder ones… we will eat, dance, make love… and die in each other’s arms. It is what’s left. It’s ours, forever.

Together, on this beach, we have what might have been.

[mostthingskenobi]

CASSIAN’S RECKONING - Chapter 26: The Beginning

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Here's a little present to say thank you for reading. Prepare for incoming fluff!!

It breaks my heart to post this chapter because it means it's over. However!!! I have something exciting to go with it...at least it will be available soon. I'm in the process of created a downloadable PDF of this fic, laid out like a real novel, complete with beautiful illustrations!!! It will be totally free and available to everyone. I'll announce it on my social media when it's ready. But for now, here's a sample so you can get a little taste (I'm so sorry there are ads on the sample...I can't afford to pay to have them removed, but you can skip them like you can a YouTube ad).

__________

READ IT ON AO3- Kudos and Comments Welcome :-)

READ CHAPTER 1 “The Razor”

READ CHAPTER 2 “The Scythe”

READ CHAPTER 3 “The Cold”

READ CHAPTER 4 “The Expendable”

READ CHAPTER 5 “The Truth”

READ CHAPTER 6 “The Detritus”

READ CHAPTER 7 “The Salt”

READ CHAPTER 8 “The Power”

READ CHAPTER 9 “The Betrayal”

REACH CHAPTER 10 “The Ruse”

READ CHAPTER 11 “The Reprieve”

READ CHAPTER 12 “The Ghosts”

READ CHAPTER 13 “The Redemption”

READ CHAPTER 14 “The Spoils”

READ CHAPTER 15 “The Interrogation”

READ CHAPTER 16 “The Rogues”

READ CHAPTER 17 “The Absolution”

READ CHAPTER 18 “The Reach”

READ CHAPTER 19 “The Hologram”

READ CHAPTER 20 “The Divide”

READ CHAPTER 21 “The Cost”

READ CHAPTER 22 “The Fallout”

READ CHAPTER 23 “The Wounds”

READ CHAPTER 24 “The Hand”

READ CHAPTER 25 “The Heart”

READ CHAPTER 26 "The Beginning"

[softnasty]

is #wipwednesday a thing on tumblr…? used to do it semi-regularly on twitter when i was in mdzs fandom but it's been soooo long now. anyway. bit of rebelcaptain that i already shared in the discord 👀 politics au fun vibes lessssgo

When Jyn defects and goes to be Gerrera's campaign manager, the second thing Cassian does — after asking Kay how the fuck that's even happening, with the ironclad NDAs and non-compete clauses that they all have, right, no special treatment? — is realizing how this means that Jyn unilaterally put an end to their thrice honored tradition of hooking up at the yearly Alliance Intergalactic Conference. The third thing he does is asking Kay to review the fine print again — it doesn't fly well: Kay asks him if he's doubting his legal skills and flings his law school diploma at him, frame and all, when Cassian dares to say that he took two law classes back in college so like, maybe he could have a look as well to make sure?

[more under the cut!]

He doesn't even mention that he only took Intro to Business Law and Intro to Media Law like, almost ten years ago at this point. Figures that probably wouldn't help his case after the diploma flinging and Kay shutting the door to his office right in his face. Cassian doesn't do anything else after that. Sits on his hands and waits for the shitstorm to inevitably hit.

It's 7:30am in Coruscant. He's had five hours of sleep (generous, his running average for the month is around four point five), two coffees (one iced, one hot — decadent and self-indulgent, for no reason at all) and a diploma thrown at his face (painful and honestly irresponsible as the unofficial poster boy of Mothma's campaign — Kay should know better). He's had worse mornings. Better ones, too, when Jyn was still by his side, sitting at the desk across from his instead of parsecs away after throwing away a job she'd held for nearly five years and whatever fraught relationship she'd had with Cassian.

It's fine. Cassian needs to make it to 8am to pull the first opinion polls number on this shitshow and prep Mothma for the press. Then he needs to make it to 8:35am when she'll go on live television and announce whoever the fuck as new campaign manager. Then—

Kay opens the door to his office again.

"Did Jyn mention any of this to you?"

Cassian gives him a look. Searches for something he could throw at him. The heaviest thing on his desk is his laptop and he really needs that.

"What the fuck do you think? What kind of relationship do you think we have, Kay?"

He flings a balled-up sheet of paper at Kay and misses. Kay closes the door to his office again.

7:32am. Yeah. Cassian's had better mornings for sure.

[thatannoyingbitch]

Everyone needs to go read this fic right now!! I love it so much. It's such a well-done slow burn.

Rated Teen and Up, Jyn Erso/Cassian Andor, Original Child Character. Andor Compliant. 25 chapters, 104,039 words as of posting.