kat crying

4

clary’s reaction to finding her mother’s body

Jyn had turned to [Cassian] from the control panel looking like the last survivor of a war, and she’d smiled in a way he’d never seen before. It hadn’t been a smile predicated on anticipation or courage, or one touched by sadness or doubt; just a smile so ordinary it seemed to change Jyn from a hero out a myth into a woman he might have known and understood.

He hadn’t known her, didn’t know her, of course. There hadn’t been the time.

—  Rogue One Novelization (P. 311)

carr-crashh-heartss  asked:

Super cool of you to offer the drabbles! I'm thinking either 'I thought I lost you', or the first time they said I love you. Either is good, I'm easy! :)

Here’s “I thought I lost you”!! My heart starting hurting when I read that, so hopefully I was able to put that into the fic well :) Thank you so much for following and for sending in this prompt!

I’m sorry to everyone because I’m getting slightly behind on these prompts, but I should have time to crank another another couple in the next 24 hours… So if you’re still waiting for yours, know that it’s coming ASAP!

Thank you for 2.5k followers! Send in a prompt so I can say thank you :)

AO3


Three weeks. Three weeks had passed since Cassian checked in. Even Draven was starting to lose hope of hearing from him again.  

His assignment shouldn’t have taken more than a few days. Cassian’s last words to her – whispered into her hairline in the early morning dark of their room – echoed through Jyn’s mind on loop. “Just reconnaissance. It’s unlikely I’ll meet any Imperials. No need to worry.”

“No need to worry.”

“No need to worry.”

“No need to worry.”

It’s a useless phrase, Jyn growled to herself. She and Cassian rarely bothered lying to each other; they didn’t need K-2’s strategic analysis to tell them of the significant chance each meeting would be their last. Why had he bothered to reassure her this time? Why had he bothered to lie? His body could be rotting on a planet she didn’t have the clearance to know, and his last words to her would be instructions she could never follow.

Her frustration – frustration at Cassian’s prolonged absence, at the helpless feeling eating away at her gut – had led her to the shooting range on base. Firing blaster bolts into sand filled dummies, emptying power pack after power pack traditionally calmed Jyn’s nerves, focused her mind away from whatever bothered her.

Today, no such luck.

Her mind morphed the dummy – tan and lifeless – into the back of Cassian’s normal fatigues; the scorches from her blaster bolts suddenly looked much more lethal; the complacent way it fell backwards looked like a body (Cassian’s body) falling. With pained cry, Jyn dropped her weapon, her hand desperately rubbing her eyes, but the image of Cassian falling from a Stormtrooper’s shot was burned into her mind, never to be scrubbed away.

Not that the image was new; it was merely resurrected.

The door to the firing range opened suddenly, pounding against the wall with an echoing bang. Jyn bared her teeth as she turned, ready to dig her claws into whatever rebel wanted his or her turn at the range.

Bodhi Rook received the look and he backed away from her on instinct, hands raised. “Jyn,” he said, his rushed words tripping over each other, “I was just in the control tower. It’s him – Cassian’s back.”

Jyn was on her feet in an instant, rushing for the door. Bodhi jumped back another step, as if Jyn was rushing at him rather than past him; she paused for a second, clasping the pilot on the shoulder, giving him a quick, “Thank you,” as she passed. She would actually thank him – for being in the control tower, for hearing the message, for coming to get her – later. After she’d seen Cassian.

Any and every thing in the corridors – droids, generals, spare X-Wing parts – was an obstacle in Jyn’s path, and she shoved past every one of them. Other would be coming to see Captain Andor – General Draven would want a debrief, medical would be coming to inspect for injuries, flight crews would come to check out his U-Wing – so Jyn needed to move quickly if she wanted a second alone with Cassian. The man who’d promised to come back. The man who almost hadn’t.

Jyn watched, without patience, as flight crews ushered the familiar U-Wing back into the hanger. She knew, logically, the steps Cassian needed to take in order to land the ship and that they would take several minutes.

But it had been three weeks, and Jyn wanted him off that ship now.

Several agonizing minutes later, the ramp of the ship lowered and Cassian, his face sporting new purple bruises and his arm in a sling but alive, appeared. His eyes swept across the hanger, scanning from left to right in quick succession, and as Jyn stepped closer, they stopped on her. Cassian’s desperation bled through the stare he fixed on her, the hungry way his eyes devoured her presence; Jyn’s desperation shot her legs forward, crossing the hanger and running straight to him. Her arms locked around his neck and his good arm around her waist. His grip on her shirt and his face in her neck reminded her of the beaches of Scarif – No, she firmly commanded herself, do not go there.

“I thought I lost you,” she whispered into his collar.

Cassian pulled back from the embrace to grab the side of her face, to gaze so deeply into her eyes Jyn was sure he could see into her soul. He didn’t respond, but his eyes spoke volumes. He wouldn’t make her another promise – “No need to worry” or “I’ll always come back” – that he couldn’t keep. But he’d treasure this moment, just like she would, allowing the glory of the returns to overcome the fear of the departures.

It’s become fashionable in some quarters to claim Jyn Erso went to Scarif intending to die a martyr – that she realized she had lost everything and chose her path by its inevitable end. I will dispute this claim until my own dying days. I think Jyn fully recognized who she was and sought a way to channel her best and worst impulses, her darkest moments and her brightest toward a cause worthy of her true incandescence.

In a kinder universe, she would have walked away from Scarif. I cannot imagine who she would have become, but I think she would have been extraordinary.

—  Mon Mothma, “Unpublished Reflections on Jyn Erso’ (Rogue One Novelization Pages 321-322)