This is not the first Rogue One fanfic I wrote, but it’s the most dear to me. I wrote it over a year ago, and it ended up sparking a loose series that I am still not done with yet.
After rewriting another story I’d written, which @dasakuryo was kind enough to point out had some very problematic implications, I decided to go back and rewrite the whole series, starting with the first story. About a month later, here are the results.
A New Hope
It was strange, Bodhi mused, coming back to his room and knowing that he would find Cassian there. That he would always find Cassian there. That he would still be there in the morning, every morning, without fail. There were no more missions, no more battles. No more sleepless nights spent worrying uselessly. No more mornings waking up feeling guilty for not having worried uselessly.
Cassian was safe. Bodhi was safe. The world they lived on was safe.
It was nice, of course. Bodhi wasn’t complaining. It was just strange. After so many years of chaos and war, he just wasn’t used to calm. The false calm of the eye of the storm, yes. Real calm, no.
Bodhi opened the door to his room, and, sure enough, Cassian was there. He sat on the floor, his back propped up against the bed,
a small purple capsule in his hand.
continue reading on AO3: A New Hope
(Note: You must be signed in to read this story. Trigger warnings for mention of addiction and suicidal ideation.)
Rebellions are built on hope 