#then right afterwards i saw a shooting star and idk it just felt like the words were more than my overactive imagination

[cheerfullycatholic]

Urgent prayer request:

Hi I really don’t know why I suddenly feel this way but I’ve just had this dreadful pessimistic feeling come over me today where usually I have fight and optimism in the Lord especially but today I am having these awful feelings of if things don’t get better or I don’t even know? Just like in the next 10 years or something I don’t see the point of carrying in like I could just k word myself and that will probably be the best thing to do and I don’t wanna feel like that I don’t at all!!!! :(

Of course 🖤

[baby-impalas]

make a wish

pairing: bill denbrough x reader

warnings: fluff, unedited, swearing

word count: 1688

might make a part two ! idk yet :)

another night.

another stupid night not a single one of your so called ‘friends’ had contacted you. you had five close friends, and lately you’d felt as though they didn’t really care much for you. so, you ran a little experiment: wait for them to get ahold of you instead of vice versa, which was how it usually happened. and for three weeks none of them called or stopped by. you’d have to face them all next week when school started, and you still weren’t sure how you would handle things. if you’d act like nothing ever happened or give them a piece of your mind. until you saw them you couldn’t know for sure.

the sting of betrayal was making you stir restlessly in your bed one particular friday night. the clock beside your bed read 2:17. was it too late to go out?

not if your mom didn’t catch you.

so, you grabbed your skateboard and hopped out your bedroom window, walked to the edge of the roof, and jumped off. it wasn’t far - maybe one story since the roof was slanted. this was a common activity for you. not that you snuck out a lot to go party or whatever - skateboarding at night was the biggest stress reliever you had up your sleeve. it seemed odd and was probably dangerous considering you were a teenage girl out on the streets in the middle of the night, but you did carry a pocket knife.

it wasn’t cold, but it definitely wasn’t warm either. you didn’t mind - you’d been out in single digit weather before. eventually, the cold just sorta faded into numbness.

you placed your board in the middle of the road, balanced a foot in its designated spot, and took off. finding a comfortable place for both your feet to rest took a little while at first, but the more you practiced the quicker you found that perfect spot, and the quicker you could surge down the street.

pushing off again and again, you flew down the road just as all your previous concerns about unloyal friends soared from your mind. skating required focus and balance. it was the perfect distraction.

especially when your wheel caught on a rock halfway down the street and you hit the ground with a thud before rolling into the grass. your knee throbbed as you glanced up to the parking lot and soccer field that stretched out ahead. this street was home to said soccer field along with a park close nearby. neither were really your thing.

the pressure of the ground on your knee sat you up, and you leaned your back against a street sign pole. pulling up your sweatpants revealed a bloody cut the size of your middle finger. it wasn’t really a big deal - nothing you hadn’t handled before. plus the scars always looked cool.

“excuse me,” the voice was gentle, but you jumped nevertheless.

a boy about your age was standing timid with a kind face in the middle of the street. he was holding your board.

“i was on my p-porch and saw you f-f-fall,” he carefully reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin piece of paper. “b-brought you a b-bandaid.”

he held out both the board and bandage to you.

“thanks,” you said, accepting the items from his hands. the board you set down - the bandage you placed over the cut. you could clean and disinfect later.

“yeah.” a brief, slightly uncomfortable silence. “c-can i sit?” “sure.”

the boy did just that, leaning up against the pole with you. he crossed his legs and his hands sat in his lap, his thumb casually stroking his palm.

“i’m y/n,” you said, deciding to break the silence because, hey, the kid did bring you a bandaid.

“i’m bill,” he said, turning to look at you.

“why are you up so late?”

“i w-was looking at the stars,” he said.

“they are pretty,” you said. “sometimes i’ll just stare at them out my window. i read somewhere that when people die they turn into a star. kinda morbid to think that you’re looking at a bunch of dead souls, but i think i’d be okay with dying if it meant getting to be that beautiful and tranquil.”

okay so maybe you rambled just a little when you were nervous. why were you even nervous? this was just some random kid who gave you a bandaid at 2 a.m…

a random kid who was kinda cute. “i haven’t heard that before. that’s a n-nice theory.” now, you weren’t psychic or anything, but you’d always been really good at reading people. it was like your sixth sense. and right then, reading bill, you knew he’d lost someone close to him.

probably best to not ask about it - if he wants to talk about it he will.

“do you g-go to sc-school in derry?” he said.

“yeah. i’m in nineth grade. what about you?”

“eighth.”

“to tell you the truth, most of my friends are kinda being jerks right now. i don’t really wanna go back,” you said.

bill turned his body to face you.

“i’m f-fighting with mine t-too,” he gave a supportive smile at the end, but you knew the situation with his friends was really eating him up inside. his face gave away his sadness, despite him trying to hide it.

you gathered up all the courage you had, and placed a hand on top of his, which was resting on his knee. bill looked at your overlapped hands, then back up at you. he gave you a shy smile.

“whatever it is, i’m sure you guys can work it out. and if not, then… they’re not worth it anyway. what happened, if i can ask?” you said.

bill seemed to hesitate. maybe whatever happened was his fault - maybe that’s why it was eating him up so much.

“we just… h-had d-different ideas of what to d-do this summer.” he said.

bill was staring at your overlapped hands, seemingly deep in thought. he placed his free hand over top of yours and began rubbing slow circles on your dorsal with his thumb.

“that doesn’t sound terrible,” bill looked up at you as you paused. “i think you guys can get through it.”

he smiled at you. it was a little lopsided, but it was beautiful. you found yourself smiling back without meaning to.

“thanks,” he said. “wh-what about you and y-your f-f-friends?”

suddenly you felt bad troubling him with your stupid friendship problems. you just wanted to talk to bill, learn about him. learn what he liked and disliked, learn what he thought about life. you were in so deep already and you’d just met the kid. probably partly because of that stupidly adorable, shy smile of his.

and the fact that him rubbing circles on your hand was giving you intense “butterflies” in your stomach. who knew those were a real thing?

“it’s nothing, really. they just haven’t really been talking to me.”

wow okay. you sound like a total loser. nice.

“they d-don’t deserve you,” bill said without hesitating. he was looking in your eyes again. “you s-seem like a great f-friend.”

“me?” you laughed. “you brought some random girl a bandaid in the middle of the night because you saw her fall off her skateboard,” bill laughed. of course, that, too, was stupidly adorable. “i’m sure you’re an amazing friend.”

you smiled at him, and he was smiling back. the night was quiet around you, nothing but crickets disturbing your comfortable silence. you looked down and began picking at the grass around your legs with your free hand.

“th-there’s a meteor shower tonight,” bill said. “h-have you ever seen a shooting star?”

you nodded.

“a couple times, yeah. i always wish on them.”

“m-me t-t-too.”

upon glancing up, you noticed that bill had been staring at you. not in a creepy way. more so observant than stalkerish.

you opted for looking at the stars, then intertwined your hand with his. butterflies (yes, mother fucking butterflies) were fluttering like crazy in your gut and throat. you could feel bill’s eyes on you, but couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. instead, you spotted a moving spark of light amongst the clouds.

“make a wish, bill,” you said, gazing at the shooting star as it made its way across the sky.

the star disappeared, and you turned to look at bill, who you knew was already watching you.

“i w-wish for—“

“no shh!” you pressed a finger to your lips, halting bill’s words. “you can’t tell me. otherwise it won’t come true.”

bill glanced at the ground (or at your intertwined hands, you couldn’t really tell).

“then i w-wish you wouldn’t kiss me,” he said.

after a pause, he met your eyes, his face holding a tentative look that just about melted your heart. he was obviously nervous as hell, his one hand was rubbing an anxious thumb over your own, and his eyes held the fear of rejection.

slowly, you moved toward him, inching your bodies closer until your legs were touching and your faces were inches apart. up close, he smelt of rain water and freshly cut grass — a breath of fresh air.

“i wished for this, too,” you mumbled, your eyes tracing the surface of his face.

bill closed the space between your lips before you could. the hand that was holding yours came up to cradle your face instead. it wasn’t fervent or rushed, just a gentle mesh of your lips.

you and bill breathed the same air for a little while afterwards, neither of you saying anything but not moving away from each other. you weren’t even looking at each other — just existing temporarily in your shared space.

this moment belonged to you, bill, and the stars.

“do you w-wanna come over tomorrow?” he said, finally breaking the silence.

“yeah,” you said. “i’d like that.”

“i’d like that too.” his voice is quiet, almost a whisper, but it’s enough to make you smile.

maybe you didn’t need your shitty friends after all.

[a19yearoldtryinherbest]

The Maze. [Bill Hader]

     Masterlist

Prompt: OFC and Bill meet on the set of IT, they have a connection but Bill may not be ready to start dating so soon after his divorce. 

Warning: Swearing, a clown, many mirrors.

A/N: The GIF should say “Well, mark me down as scared and horny soft!” but it still kind of works. idk. Also, this is longer than I expected  but tell me if you gals like it like this, prefer shorter or think it would have been better I should’ve split it in two.

Word count: 2637 [I went a bit overboard, maybe?]

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He was sweet, caring and really, really funny, maybe a little awkward but that just made him cuter. At least that was that Amy thought.

The first weeks of shooting she felt a constant a stomach ache from laughing. Bill kept cracking joke after joke and endless impersonations, from Andy to some TV narrator from a true crime show she didn't even know about. Even if she didn't got the references she still found then funny, and quite impressive. He was very talented, she noted.

Sadly all the many distractions he offered made her slightly forget about a few things that were part of her job, like confirm the catering for the fourteenth day of shooting, luckily she could get them to go anyway with a bit more money on top of what was agreed previously. So she made herself put more effort and concentration into her work, and be a little less on set when he was shooting and try to pay him less attention. Luckily the jokes had stopped being so frequent by the second month, he still was a goofball nonetheless.

Andy, the director, and Barbara, his sister and one of the producers, saw that their friend Amy had a think for one of their leads and they decided to play matchmakers by the last weeks of shooting. They knew Bill was fresh out of a divorce so they made sure he was in the dating game, so they sent Jessica and James on a easy mission and they took it, seeing a good match they would make.

— She's cute. — said James, pointing at a skinny blonde girl at the end of the bar. They had been doing that for the past half hour since the rest of the cast had left them alone, Bill would've been gone but since he was the subject of conversation he found it very difficult to find a out. Si Bill did what he'd been doing the last thirty minutes, he looked at the girl and shrugged his shoulders. She was cute but she didn't really catch his eye.

— But she's cutter. — Jessica interrupted before Bill could give a verdict about the other girl. The girl Jessica pointed at was a bit more of Bill's liking, dark headed, wide smile on her face as she celebrated her victory over darts — Oh, she likes her. — he looked at his co-star, a bit confused to what gave that impression and she clarified — You're smiling a bit much sweety. — he rolled his eyes and looked back to the girl and then he realized why she was so much of his liking.

— Oh, shit! — he said, quickly fixing his eye on his drink.

— What? — James asked, looking at Bill confused and a bit worried.

— That's Amy, the production manager. — he took a big chug of his drink, which he didn't do often, or ever.

— No way! — chanted Jessica, accidentally caring the plan nearer to it's fulfillment. They now not only they knew Bill was willing to date but also liked the girl they wanted to set him up with.

— You totally planed this. — he was starting to blush and couldn't help but to hide his face behind his hands and look down.

— I did not! — McAvoy looked at Jessica, asking for a confession — I swear!

— Wait, why would you think it was planned? — James asked.

— Isn't it obvious? — they both looked at him, not understanding what he was talking about — Or at least I thought it was. — he mumbled, baffled they didn't realized — I really like her.

They looked at him a bit surprised, falling into a small silence that Jessica broke by turning around and calling for their work colleagues — Andy, Barbara, Amy! — the three of them turned their attention to the redhead screaming across the bar, stopping their game of darts — Come over! — they did, Andy and Amy throwing the last two darts before grabbing their drinks and starting walking towards the three actors.

— You definitely planned this. — mumbled Bill, finishing his glass of beer.

— I didn't.

Amy, was nervous so she also finished her glass on the way to the bar, however her glass was half full with scotch, so the effect was a bit different — Easy there. — told her Barbara as she softly hissed by the burning on her throat and ordered another one.

She would be a mumbling, blushing, incoherent mess anyway, better blame it on the alcohol, right? — So who won on that game of darts? — Jessica laughed, looking at Amy for an answer.

Amy pointed at Andy, smiling — But only because he cheats.

— Oh! Look who's talking, with the clapping in front of my face when I'm about to throw.

Conversation flowed smoothly but the four matchmakers couldn't make the two talk to each other for other than a side commentary. So they decided to take themselves out of the picture so they would have no option but to talk. The Muschetti siblings decided to go with — Tomorrow we have to start prepping to shoot early. — McAvoy went to take a phone call and never returned, a the same time Chastain revealed she was extremely tired and excused herself. What neither of the cupids realized was the Amy was fairly drunk, except for McAvoy, he realized that and decided that would probably speed up the processes a little.

They both stayed in silence a bit, where Amy sobered up a bit, enough to make a coherent and appropriate comment, maybe even a bit intelligent — I probably shouldn't drive like this.

Bill looked at her, quite surprised to hear her speak, it took him a moment to process what she had just said and when he understood he leaned closer to her, making a "this is very important for us to remember so litsen up" face combined with "I'm a bit drunk and I don't want to fall asleep", which meant eyebrows high up and eyes fighting to stay open — Neither of us should drive like this. We should get an uber. — she nodded and took her phone out — No, I got it. — he said, his phone already on the app — A genta- gentleman should pay for the uber.

She laughed — What a gento- gentel- What a- a you. — she laughed a bit more and laid her head on her arm, suddenly realizing how dizzy she felt — God. — she softly grunted.

— Should be here in a few minutes. — he looked at her, laughing at her scrunched up face — Wanna get some fresh air?

Fresh air helped the dizziness go away and, against all odds, she started to sober up. As they waited for the car she couldn't help but to be almost constantly next him, hugging his arm, looking at his face. It didn't make Bill uncomfortable but it did made really him nervous also a bit guilty, she was drunk, he wouldn't do anything to her in that state, but he enjoyed the way she was touching his arm, looking at his eyes and lips, laughing at his jokes, but he was sure nothing could beat the way her lips felt on his neck when she laid her head on his shoulder on the car. She kept kissing his neck in a slow, soft and intimate way, but he wouldn't take advantage of the inebriated state she seemed to be even if he was a bit drunk, which he was, but he thought he was more conscious than she was.

So he took her to the apartment building they were both renting in. On the elevator she stopped leaning against him so much and looked him dead in the eye — Wh- why aren't you kissing me? — She asked, she was a bit more coherent and sounded less drunk but more tired.

— 'Cause you're drunk. — he answered, looking elsewhere but her eyes.

— You too. — She crossed her arms as if she was about to throw a tantrum but she only pouted slightly. Two stories before her floor she pressed the stop button grabbed him by the neck of his shirt and pulled him into a sloppy (bitch) kiss. He stood almost frozen for the first few seconds until he got a hold of himself and kissed her back. They pushed and pulled for a few seconds, trying to get closer to the other, before she parted away and whispered — I'm not all that drunk. I want this. — she kissed him again and pulled the stop button so the elevator would start again.

Every kiss he laid on her skin that night was sweet and caring and every time she touched him he could feel his chest tingle and burn at the same time.

They stayed up afterwards, talking, joking, laughing and looking into each other's eyes, getting to know each other. The conversation was easy even if it was hard topics they talked about, they seemed to feel the same about almost everything and Bill had thought that scarred him, he wanted to grow old with that woman. He wanted to love and cherish her, and make her laugh until the day he died, but that terrified him.

And even if that night was amazingly sweet the day after was especially bitter. When she woke up he was already dresses, she knew that wasn't a good start.

He told her good morning and when she went in for a kiss he said — I don't think I'm ready to be in a relationship so soon after my divorce. I don't want for this to be a one night thing, and last night was great, but I'm not ready. — and she understood, divorce was a big deal, a nine year long marriage isn't something one would get over just like that. That she could understand, that she could take, what she couldn't understand was the way he kept his distance for the last days of shooting and how he didn't even said goodbye they were at the wrap party and he left earlier.

She tried not to think much about him but he seemed to always have a way to creep back into her mind. Her brain seemed to be decided to find a connection to him and the world to give her one. Surfing through Netflix she seemed to see nothing but his face or the face of someone he was friends with, people keep recommending things to watch were he was in, and then the Emmys came around and he seemed to be everything everyone was talking about. But then she got a break, distracting herself with a new movie she was working on, he still crossed her mind but not in a heart-stopping daydreaming kind of way, it seemed more plausible to move on.

Well, not until the premiere came. The idea of seeing him again kept making her smile in the middle of the day and she felt ridiculous, it had been one night a year ago but his words kept haunting her. Not ready. That implied that maybe he would be later, maybe he would be ready then.

So she tried to look for a great dress but everything seemed too much, too many sequins, too much lace, too bright, too short or way too long. Until she founded the perfect dress a black cocktail dress that left her cleavage and shoulders uncovered and hugged her body perfectly. She felt confident, pretty and comfortable, just like she felt with him.

On the premiere they seemed like to positive sides of different magnets, unable to touch, to find each other and in that time she couldn't think of anything else but that maybe he never reached out because he didn't wanted to,that maybe the "I'm not ready" was just an act or something he said so he wouldn't have to tell her he didn't want to be with her. And, as that idea started to settle in her brain and she wandered by the Derry theme attractions, she started to feel more and more anxious and stupid, thinking of how awkward that encounter would be and how much she had thought about that stupid dress she was wearing.

She looked at her reflection on one of the many mirrors of the mirror house, she contemplated the option of skipping the movie and the party to go home. She didn't feel like watching Bill's face for two hours. As she was about to look for a easy way out she heard a tap on the glass next to her, she turned to see Bill. He was on the other side of the glass, half a smile on his face and one of his hand on his pants' pocket.

Amy looked at him a bit confused as he mouthed "hey" or maybe he said it but she couldn't hear him, and now all she was thinking about was his voice and how much she wanted to hear him talk and laugh. She smiled back with a sweet and soft "hey"

Without saying a word the both started to look for a way to the other, it was a bit difficult, it was a maze full of mirrors and glasses more than once they saw each other but couldn't meet, until a he took a turn and they saw each other, no glass, no impediments.

— Hey. — she said, taking a small step towards him.

— Hey. — he took a bigger step, nearly entering her personal space — Wanna get out of this damned maze before the clown get to us?

Her face changed, now showing her a bit worried — There's a clown?

He laughed softly, nodding — Yeah, and the son of a bitch already got me once.

— Yeah, let's better leave. — she seemed to be in bit more of a rush, gabbing his hand and walking in a bit of an accelerated pace.

She guided him trough the mirrors, checking on every turn for a god damned clown, who's idea was that? Seemed something Andy would think of. But after one turn she was stopped by a mirror, and she stood looking at herself and Bill, how he was standing behind her, still looking out for the clown, her hand holding his, and she turned around, looking at him, waiting for him to look at her. And he did, his blue eyes looking straight into hers, smiling softly as her eyes drifted to his lips, closing in on the distance she then erased.

It felt better than any of them remembered, softer, sweeter, no hesitation or drunkenness. His hands had taken their place on her neck and waist, holding her body close to him, leaving her hands nothing to do but linger over his hips. When the kiss came to an end they moved slowly apart, eyes still closed, as if they were trying to stay in the beautiful dream they had entered together.

He looked at her with a smile that made her blush and look to the side from were they came from, letting her see— Holy shit!— a creepy fucking clown was standing with a evil smile on his face, or at least the reflection of that fucking clown.

Bill, instead of getting scared, busted into laughter as the clown ran to hide, which only made her laugh at herself, leaving them alone with their reflections in a fit of laughter that lasted more than a few minutes.

— That fucking clown. — she muttered, still trying to calm down her laughter, holding her stomach from the belly ache that laughter had gave her.

Bill grabbed her hand, as she had done with his before, and lead her out of that maze, both still laughing ever so often, keeping each other close.

[toddcowardd]

More Than One Prison

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader

Rating: G/T

Warnings: Death, angst

A/N: i havent written angst in forever!

Prompt/Request/: There's a Churrit quote that he said to Cassian going around, its "there are more than one sort of prison, captain,, and I sense you carry yours around wherever you go." and I cant help but think about his past! and what if,,,WHAT IF, he lost his love or something! SO, i was wondering if you can do a drabble based on that? (and maybe have the love be reader?)

Summary: Chirrut’s comment about Cassian’s personal prison makes the Captain remember his times with you

“There is more than one sort of prison, Captain.” Chirrut grinned somberly, waving his hands slightly.  ”I sense that you carry yours wherever you go.”

Cassian turned to look out towards the room beyond the cell, sighing to himself. The Guardian was right, he was entrapped in a prison of guilt that he’d never escape. Partly from all those years of doing the rebellion’s dirty work but, mostly because of what happened to you.

You.

The love of his life, taken from him before he’d ever have the chance to spend his life with you. Before he’d ever get to tell you about how he felt about you. The thought of you and that wretched day made his heart tighten in pain as his mind raced with memories.

Cassian remembered the day he met you.

You were a bright eyed new recruit fresh from Bespin’s city in the clouds, assigned on a mission to help him get some intel on an alleged imperial outpost on Tatooine. He watched as you approached the U-Wing in total awestruck, murmuring about how you’ve never been in one of these ships before.

“There is about a 57% chance that Lieutenant [Y/L/N] will find you creepy if you keep staring at her like that.” K2 deadpans from the cockpit.

Cassian scoffs at the droid, turning to face him “I wasn’t starin- wait, what do you mean by ‘like that’?”

Kay swivels his head to look to the Captain before swiveling it back. “She’s here.”

Cassian turns once more to see you standing at the front of the U-wing door. You give him a cheery smile.

“Hello Captain Andor.” You greet as you climb on, setting your bag on the bench. The Captain looks at you with an enamored gaze.  To him you were more beautiful than any of the stars in the galaxy. He looks over to the cockpit when you look towards him, pretending like he wasn’t just staring at you for the second time that day.

“So, ready for your first mission?” He says with his best captain’s voice while he shrugs on his piloting vest.

“I was born ready, Captain Andor.” You grin, plopping onto one of the bench seats. Cassian feels a blush creep up on his cheek as he takes his own seat in the cockpit. He loved the way you sounded, eager to hear you speak more. He starts up the ship, ignoring K2’s judgmental stare.

*****************

Much to Cassian’s delight, you both form a close friendship rather quickly. It was nice to be so close and to trust another human being as deeply as he did with you. You presence made mission more tolerable. It kept him relaxed and grounded which in turn gave better results. That’s not to say that he didn’t have his moments of weakness though. Cassian had developed romantic feelings for you that he kept to himself, suppressed deep in the caverns of his soul.

On rare occasions, his feelings for you had a tendency to get in the way of some missions. Opting for a more reckless choice in order to help you instead of doing the safer option that would make the mission go cleaner. Cassian would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the looks of awe and gratitude you’d give him during his reckless moments. He’d be lying even more if he also said that the post mission patching up he’d get from you on the ship back wasn’t his favorite part of those rare reckless moments. The captain loved your soft, gentle touches against his skin as you’d wrap a gaze around a wound.

It was those moments that he realized he’d need to tell you of his feelings soon, no matter how nervous the thought of it made him.

**************************

Cassian had a plan.

After this mission, he’d invite you for a walk in the forest that surrounded the base. Finding a nice secluded spot away from any interruptions and tell you how he felt. Maybe he’d give you a small gift or his Captain’s jacket to wear to prove how serious he was but, he wasn’t quite sure yet.

You approached the familiar U-wing, waving over to the Captain and Kay. K2 waves back before disappearing into the ship as Cassian leans against the doorway.

“I just got briefed.” You remark. “Sounds like this will be an easy one”

“As long as we don’t attract any unwanted attention.” Cassian hums with a smirk.

“I think well be just fine, Cass” You giggle. The sound making the Captain’s heart soar. Yeah he was defiantly going to tell you after this mission.

****************************

A blaster shot flashes in the alley way next to the dingy Hosnian cantina.

The “informant” you two were to meet turned out to be an imperial spy, who was on his own mission of offing any rebel spies he came in contact with. It all happened so fast after you were both lured out of the cantina. He draws his blaster, firing off a shot. Cassian grabs his own quickly, shooting the spy in the chest. He doesn’t watch him fall to the ground, instead his eyes quickly dart to you. You were on the ground as well, the blaster wound on your chest where the spy hit you was clear as day.

Cassian’s blood runs cold as he pulls you into his arms. Your breath was ragged, you were on the brink. Tears pool into his eyes when he looks down to you. You muster up a weak smile, coughing up a small amount of blood. Once more, for the last time in his life, he feels your soft, gentle touch as you cup his stubble covered cheek.

“I-I…” more blood coughed up. “I always loved you, Cassian.” You murmur weakly. Hand falling from his cheek, hanging limping by you side as your last bit of life leaves you.

Cassian holds your body tightly sobbing into your neck. This wasn’t supposed to happen! This was supposed to be an easy mission! He was going to tell you afterwards when you were back on Yavin! Your confession rings loudly in his head. You loved him too.

He pulls away to look in your eyes one last time before closing them. The Captain cradled your body in his arms protectively, afraid of anymore harm that could happen to you. He stands, walking back to the ship and Kay.

Why was the galaxy so cruel to him? Why was it always taking the people he loved most?

********************************

Kay piloted the ship back to Yavin on his own. Cassian sat on the benches, grasping your body close to him as he stared out into the void of space. Your death was not his fault but, that did not stop Cassian from feeling guilt over it.

A small vigil and cremation ceremony was held back on base for you as fellow rebels said their final good byes. Cassian watched intensely watched the fire engulf you. He’d steal every star in the galaxy just to have you back alive for one more day. Once the ceremony was finished, he wipes away the last of his tears and walks to his quarters.

************************

In the aftermath of your death, Cassian took on more dangerous missions. More assassinations, more spying under cover, more high priority and top secret missions, each more dangerous than before. There was no recklessness or assignment partners. He was a colder man, opting to keep everyone around him at arm’s length. Only Kay was allowed to be near him on a personal level.

Many rebels believed he had a death wish, and maybe they were right. After all these missions had a much high chance of death than the ones before you passed. In a way, it was like the Captain was trying to escape his prison of guilt and despair. But he never would, not until he himself passes on.

Cassian presses his head against the cool metal bars of Saw’s prison cell. He gripped his lock pick set tightly as he steadies his breathing, pushing back any tears that could’ve spilled down. That was the last thing he needed at the moment.

He glances over to the Guardians, one meditating and the other staring into the cell over. They’ve clearly moved on to other things while Cassian was wrapped up in his memories of you. He sighs again, looking out to the room beyond the cell. He was, at least,  determined to break out of this prison.

heyoooo sorry if this is not that gr8! I wrote this instead of like,, sleeping?? hahah also sorry for any grammar errors bc i suck and never proof read beyond the lil red squiggles.

Tagging: @madelyne-pryor @reecieking @writing-rogue (i know this isnt the smut! thats coming soon!!) @harringtonmaximoff  andddddd idk if you wanna be tagged in future cassian fics them hmu