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#cassian andor x oc
thescarletfang · 1 year
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Presence
Okay, who do I think I am starting a Cassian Andor series?!
Anyway, this is the first part. Stupidly nervous about this. Cassian is hard to write. Star Wars is hard for me to write. But I like challenging myself as a writer. 
This is “Presence” - part one.
Cassian Andor x RebelMedNurse
This can be read as a reader insert, but fair warning my reader inserts are much more OCs. Minor reader description. TBH I just love writing in 2nd POV, so I will be describing the “reader” a little here and there but overall, keeping it vague! 
Summary: You’re a med nurse on Yavin 4 and you’re terrified of Captain Cassian Andor. His reputation precedes him, obviously. But as you get to know the intimidating rebel leader, you’re surprised at what you find. 
Wordcount: 3.4k
Warnings: slight reader description, swearing, mentions of death, slow burn, angst. eventual smut? maybe? light smut eventually? idk rn. HAPPY ENDING BC LIFE IS HARD AND ROGUE ONE IS V SAD AND BEAUTIFUL BUT I NEED COMFORT RN. all my work is 18+, minors DNI
The first time Captain Cassian Andor comes to you in the medical center on Yavin 4, you’re so tired you can barely keep your eyes open.
It’s not your preferred way to meet the highly respected and incredibly intimidating rebel captain, but a crew got in late the night before from a mission that resulted in more broken bones and open wounds than you could count. You haven’t slept. You’ve been running from bed to bed, making sure the operatives are stable and healing. You’ve applied more bacta than you can remember in recent memory, and your medisensor is going to need a new power pack any second.
So you try not to be too hard on yourself when you’re told to treat Captain Andor for a deep cut across his chest, and you’re humiliated immediately at your state. He’s Cassian Andor, after all. Famous within the ranks of the Rebel Alliance, his reputation precedes him. You’ve heard through the few gossiping nurses in the messhall that he’s a deadly assassin and spy and his body count is unmatched. You remember feeling sick and pushing your caf away upon hearing that last part. 
You know everyone loves (or fears) Cassian Andor, but as you walk into the med room where he’s sitting on a cot waiting for you, you’re nervous. You’re a nurse in the Alliance, after all - your one job is to keep everyone alive. It seems to be in direct contradiction to everything Andor stands for: death for the cause is unavoidable. It is what it is, seems to be the way of men like Andor.
Which is fine. It should be fine, at least. You’re not a fool. You’re not so naive that you expect some storybook version of what is actually happening - you know death is inevitable, especially for the cause. You know that you are as replaceable as any meddroid - sure, organic medical personnel are fewer and farther between than meddroids in the Alliance, but you are not special. You are not worthy of life anymore than anyone else. You are a cog in the rebel machine. You know what you’ve signed up for.
This knowledge doesn’t make things in war easier to stomach, though. 
Since you are a living, breathing human med nurse, you are forced to go into battle. You are on rotation for missions, and you’ve seen the bloodshed and death close-up. You’ve stitched together dying men and women, dying Twi’leks and Rodians, and everything in between.
Loss is embedded in the vey fabric of your being.
It still hurts, though.
So when you look upon Cassian Andor, you are nervous. 
He, however, looks like he’s in a shit ton of pain. 
Andor hisses and cringes as he adjusts the grip he has on his uniform, clutching the front of it where red blossoms out. Along with his chest wound, he’s pretty banged up: there’s a layer of dirt and grime across the bridge of his slightly crooked nose, his hair is going every which way, he has a beard that looks like it needs trimming, and the beginnings of a bruise on his cheek.  You make a mental note to run a diagnostic on his entire person after you’ve tended to the cut that appears to continue bleeding.
“Captain Andor,” you say, grateful that your voice is steady. When his eyes flick up to you, you’re ashamed that your own immediately flick down to the datapad in your hand. You look over his chart. You hate that you’re nervous. “While on your mission you experienced a laceration across your chest? And you landed back on base at 0600?”
Andor grunts a noise of assent and you lift your eyes from the datapad. You’re startled to see he’s looking at you. His eyes are very dark. You have to physically refrain from gulping. 
“The medic in the field couldn’t assist with the wound?” Your question hangs for a moment. You see Andor’s jaw tense.
He does his best impression of a shrug - the most he can do in his current condition. 
“There was no time,” he says and you immediately notice the rasp to his voice. It’s a low voice, his accent lilting, and Maker this man is terrifying, honestly. You tell yourself to get it together. You tell yourself it’s because you’re so tired, it’s like you’re running on fumes. You tell yourself these things to keep from facing the truth: you’re afraid of Captain Cassian Andor.
You nod, setting down the datapad on the counter, and turn to put on your medical gloves. You take your sonic scalpel into your hand and face Andor again. He’s really doing his best to not show how much pain he’s in, and for a moment your intimidation of him is replaced by annoyance. 
Men, you think, internally scoffing. At the end of the day, they’re all the same. 
“I’ll need to sonic your uniform off to access the wound without further disturbing it,” you explain, pulling a stool over and sitting down, knee-to-knee with Andor. He nods. “Can you lie down for me?”
He does as he’s told and you’re grateful. You’re not sure what you expected - maybe him putting up a fight? Demoralizing you? Not letting you do your job? You think that’s not very fair of you, all these assumptions about this man. But - again - all you know is that he’s a ruthless killer and spy. These things make him a great rebel warrior. They do not necessarily mean they make him a great man.
When Andor is lying on his back, you begin to sonic open the front of his uniform. He hisses.
“Sorry,” you mutter, your nerves fleeing once you’re actually doing your job. It’s what makes you an exceptional nurse. You can laser-focus on a task, and everything else becomes background noise.
He clears his throat as you work through the front seam. 
“No need to apologize,” he says, his voice a bit strained. “You’re doing your job.” 
Your eyes flick to his face and you see his are closed, his jaw tense. Another moment and you’ve made it to his waist. You place your sonic scalpel on a tray on the counter. 
“I’m going to open your uniform now,” you say. In your experience, it’s always best to narrate everything you’re doing to a patient. “That way I can see how bad the damage is.”
He nods imperceptibly and your hands take the fabric gently, pushing it on either side of his torso as far as possible. Somewhere, in the very back of your mind, you register that Cassian Andor has a very nice chest. Then, you immediately reprimand that tiny whisper because it’s incredibly inappropriate. You feel ashamed you even thought of it.
The laceration itself is thankfully better than you anticipated. The meddroid who had handed you Andor’s chart - being a droid - had delivered in a monotone, so it sounded a lot worse than it actually was. While it is deeper than a graze, it is not going to leave Andor with any permanent damage.
You hold your hands above his chest and meet his eyes. “May I?” 
“You really think I’m going to say no?” Andor grits out and you can’t help yourself - you breathe out a laugh. You are shocked when you see the corner of Andor’s mouth twitch upwards. Is…Captain Andor making a joke?
You raise your eyebrows at the man. “I don’t know you, sir. Maybe you would’ve.” 
Now it’s Andor’s turn to bark out a laugh and it immediately turns into a groan of pain. You grimace. 
“Try not to…do anything,” you mutter as you brace your left hand on the side of his torso, using your right to reach over and grab the irrigation bulb. You point the nozzle of the bulb at the end of the laceration. 
“I’m going to cleanse the wound before stitching it together,” you continue to explain but you think Andor’s in so much pain that there’s no way he’s listening. “This is going to sting.”
Andor grits his teeth as you cleanse the wound and once you’re done, you notice his (very nice) chest is rising and falling rapidly - he’s short on breath from the pain. You scoot your stool closer to him - you’re in his space. 
“Hanging in there, Captain?” You ask it earnestly but he shoots you a raised eyebrow. 
You think he scoffs but that could also be his labored breathing. 
“I’ve had much worse,” he says and you look at him, in his big brown eyes and you think I bet you have, you scary son-of-a-bitch. 
You clear your throat. You continue your work. Your gloved hand presses down against Andor’s bruised torso and you see his skin jump beneath your touch. You work quickly, quietly, and focused. You know that Andor is a Very Important Person in the Alliance, so you do what you need to do, and quickly. 
You’re almost through stitching him when you say, “This looks worse than it is. You’re going to make a full recovery, Captain Andor.”
He grunts, hissing when you pull the last thread through his skin. You reach over to the scissors, cutting the thread off quickly. You bite your lip as you apply bacta spray to the wound, to seal in the sutures. When you flick your eyes back to Andor, you’re surprised he’s looking at you. 
You swallow. “Yes?”
He just keeps looking at you and it’s disarming. It’s like he’s studying you, like he can see into your brain and you are a little mortified. 
“Thank you for sewing me up,” he tells you and you cannot for the life of you tell if he’s teasing you or earnest. 
“It’s my job,” you point out and he nods and begins to sit up. You reach out to help him, your hands taking hold of his left bicep. You find yourself pushing away another incredibly inappropriate thought - that Captain Andor has a nice bicep. What is wrong with you? It’s so insanely unprofessional, you should be fired–
“I think I’m good,” Andor says and you look up at him and realize you’re still holding his arm and okay, now he is definitely teasing you because despite his bruised face you can see the mirth in his eyes. You let go of him as if he burned you with fire. 
“Of course,” you say, clearing your throat. You stand up quickly as Andor uselessly tries to cover himself with his torn uniform. You avoid looking at him as you grab the datapad. “You will be cleared for combat within 48 hours.” 
Andor grunts and you look over. He’s struggling to somehow cover himself with his tattered uniform. You take pity on the man, pulling a standard black tunic from a drawer. 
“I think that part of your uniform is a goner,” you say. He looks at you and you hold up the med-issued tunic reserved for patients. He takes it from your hands. He winces.
“I can help you,” you say. He looks like he’s about to refuse and you refrain from rolling your eyes. “Stand up, will you?”
He stands and you hesitate for just a moment before you remove your gloves. Tossing them on medical table, your bare hands take hold of the shoulders of his ruined uniform and you slide it off his back. You’re standing behind him and you realize you’re very close to him. When his uniform is off, you throw it onto the cot and Andor turns around to face you.
And now not only are you standing close to the man, but you’re facing him as well and he doesn’t have a shirt on. You curse the slight tremor in your hands. He’s just…he’s so much and there are all these stories about him and you try so hard to pretend he’s just another operative. 
He’s looking at you as he raises his arms and oh my god, are you fucking blushing? It feels like you are blushing. You avoid his gaze as you lift up on your toes to bring the black tunic over his arms. But he’s taller than you so you have to reach as for as you can to bring it over his head. When the collar of the shirt is brought down and his messy, bedhead hair is standing on end, you realize you’re standing even closer and your chests are nearly touching. 
“Careful now,” you say softly, helping his arms through each sleeve. He grunts, the sound either due to pain or annoyance at your instruction, but then the blessed shirt is on but he’s still looking at you, those dark eyes just boring into your own and you have to take a step back because you can feel his body heat radiating off of him and onto you.
Is the corner of his mouth lifting? Are you just imagining that? 
“Thank you…” he says, but trails off. He looks at you expectantly. 
You tell him your name. You don’t know why you tell him your name but it tumbles from your lips immediately. And yes, now he seems to definitely be smirking as he says it back to you. You think your name sounds really nice in Andor’s voice. 
And then he leaves, rapping his fist twice on the doorframe as he exits. He doesn’t look back.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding the second you’re alone in the room. You realize you didn’t do the full body scan like you had planned to. You look around for a moment, flustered. You put your hands on your hips.
You think the scariest part about Captain Cassian Andor is how he didn’t seem very scary at all. 
* * * 
A few days later you are in the messhall in the middle of the night because an operative died on your watch and this one hurt.
She was young. Younger than you by at least five years. She was tiny and small and looked more like a child than you’d ever seen on the field. She’d returned from a mission with a blaster shot through her abdomen. It wouldn’t stop bleeding. You held your hands to her wound as the meddroid buzzed around you, preparing for surgery and then a second later she’d taken her last breath. You swear the blood stains are still on your hands, though you’ve scrubbed them raw. 
You stare down into your long-cold caf and you cannot help it. You try so hard to keep the tears at bay but they will up in your eyes and spill down your cheeks without your permission. And since you’re already crying, you put your head into your hands and you just give into the feeling of utter loss. Your shoulders tremble and your nose is running and you let yourself cry, alone, in this empty messhall. 
You are tired. You are homesick. You are afraid.
And with the sound of a footstep, you realize you are not alone. 
You look up sharply and for a moment you can’t see anything because your tears have blurred your vision. You wipe your eyes and then you see Captain Andor standing in the doorway, his shoulders tense, his hands in his pockets, and he’s looking right at you.
“Sorry, I didn’t–I came for some caf, and you were here,” he explains. He sounds a little nervous but through the fog of your exhaustion and sadness, you don’t register his nerves as strange. You sniffle. You’re mortified. 
“I’ll go,” you mutter and you make a move to get up but Andor steps forward and you freeze.
“No, please, it’s fine.” 
You make eye contact with him and you see how tired he is. His eyes are bloodshot, he has a full beard, and his hair is going every which way. You nod and sit back down, taking a steadying breath. For a moment you think he’s going to leave and you have no opinion on the matter - honestly, all of this feels a little like a dream anyway. You’re not quite sure you aren’t sleeping.
But then Andor shuffles past you, toward the caf station, and you hear him go about making himself a cup. You take this time to gather yourself, and you’re thankful your shuddering breaths have stopped but you can’t control your eyes. They leak tears down your cheeks and you decide to just let them. It’s like your body is begging for release and you’re too tired to fight it.
Once again, you expect Captain Andor to leave but he surprises you. You hear the chair opposite you creak across the floor and when you look up, Andor is sitting across from you. He wipes a hand down his face and lets out a shuttering sigh and takes a sip of his caf. 
He catches you staring at him. You don’t drop your gaze. It’s in the middle of the night in the messhall when most of the base is their barracks - the rules feel different. 
Your voice is scratchy when you ask, “Trouble sleeping?” 
Andor’s fingers tap on his cup of caf. “Always.” 
You huff a humorless laugh. You see the corner of his mouth flick up. 
“You?” he asks. 
You nod. You think it’s the late hour and the lack of sleep and the weight of grief on your shoulders because you say, “Sometimes it just…feels like a lot.”
It’s a grossly inadequate statement and it can’t possibly capture everything that you feel but Andor doesn’t even blink. He’s looking at you and a shadow of understanding passes over his face.
“Yeah, it does,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly and it’s anchoring you, tethering you to this room. You can feel the floor beneath your boots. You can feel the stiff chair against your back. The coldness of the room caresses your wet cheeks. You’re still crying, the tears falling, but you feel calm. You feel present. 
A curl has come loose from your ponytail and you tuck it behind your ear. Andor’s eyes follow the movement. You give him the smallest of grins. Captain Cassian Andor gives a tiny one back.
You don’t say anything for the rest of the thirty minutes you sit together, finishing your cafs. When you’ve taken the last tepid sip, you stand up. Andor follows suit, and you both throw your cups away, making your way out of the messhall and into the moonlight.
“Do you need me to walk you to the barracks?” he asks and it’s such a bizarre question that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. But he seems earnest, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“No,” you laugh, because you can’t help it. Why in the world would you need him to walk you back to your barracks? You think it’s a habit leftover from his life before - walking a crying woman back to her room. But that doesn’t matter here. Not on Yavin 4. Not in a war. 
He laughs back. If the moonlight was a little brighter, you’d see a blush graze his cheeks, but in the darkness you don’t notice. 
“Right,” he says. You stand there, opposite one another, outside of the messhall and it’s awkward for a moment. This is so insane, you keep thinking. You have never been alone with Andor before you sewed him up earlier in the week and now it’s happened twice.
“Okay, well. Goodnight, Captain Andor.”
“Cassian.”
You furrow your brow. “Huh?”
“Uh, just Cassian is fine,” he says, clearing his throat. “Captain Andor sounds like someone I don’t know.”
Your eyebrows raise at this little confession and you feel like you’re seeing this man a little clearer. Like the haze around him is lessening, and he’s a little bit more in sharper focus. 
“Cassian,” you repeat, and he’s looking at the ground with a little grin. He says your name back, still looking at the ground, and you’re taken aback by how charming you think that is.
His eyes flick to you once more before he nods, and heads off to his quarters. You watch him for a moment, the moonlight making his silhouette glow a little, and you realize that your tears have stopped.  
That night - for the first night in a very long time - you sleep soundly.
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Conversation
Jyn: So... who's the big spoon and who's the little spoon?
Sevrina: We're chopsticks.
Jyn: Well... that's cute!
Jyn: Does that mean you two snuggle together perfectly?
Cassian: No, it means that if you take the other away, the only thing the other is good for is stabbing.
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artemiseamoon · 11 months
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Do you trust me?
Cassian Andor x ofc
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Words: 1,237
Warnings: pretty light, an injury, missed bullet, bandaging wounds
Whumpril 2023 masterlist | days: 12,14 & 15
This is a preview * read in full on A03
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Tensions were high as they reached the last leg of the mission. The threat of death was always near, lurking in the shadows or right in front of one’s face.
Still, she’d die for this; getting the underserved what they needed. The wealthy hoarded resources, greedy beasts taking everything in excess, and it left many without, or with far less than they need to get by.
Each mission she took could be Jae’s last, and she was content with that, as long as she was making a difference. Sometimes, it felt like it, other times it didn’t.
As she got her last haul of supplies the ship the team did a final check, someone was missing.
“Dammit, Martrev is mis - “before she could get her words out, gunfire erupted in the distance. “I told you; we didn’t need a newbie!” She shouted back at Millam, then carefully advanced forward, ready to fire.
Jae and the team return fire as the enemies attacked, they’re outnumbered, 9 of them to 4 of her own team. As they fire back, taking cover when needed, she keeps an eye out for Martrev.
After killing one guard, then another, she swung left and was nearly hit with a shot to her left arm, it barely missed her.
“Fuck!”
“Sorry! I - I thou-” Martrev lowered his weapon, regret in his eyes.
“You don’t recognize your own damn team!” she hissed, then glanced at her arm, the suit was skimmed, but no cut. As he reached for her arm, she moved back, “get away from me, get back to the ship!”
Read in full on A03
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More Rogue One (don’t have an Andor list yet)
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@artemiseamoon-updates
A03: artemiseamoon
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sankta-starkova · 10 months
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BURN IT DOWN
030; EPILOGUE
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previous chapter | masterlist
summary: the one where harlow kaz realised that the world was going to end but she decided to try and save it with the people that she cared about, no matter what it takes
wordcount: 1.4k
a/n: this is an alternate ending cassian and Harlow died last chapter but this is imagining what would've happened.
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Harlow looked in the mirror as she finished her makeup, a hand reaching for the necklaces on the table.
She had stacks of them now. So many memories that needed to be remembered, so many tragedies that needed to be told.
One from her parents, one from Nemik, one from marrying Cassian, one from surviving Scarif, one from the end of the war and one for their son.
When the war had ended and they were both free to do whatever they wanted, so they moved to Coruscant, to a nice apartment.
She had gotten a job as one of the coruscnt senators, she specialised in the outer rim and improving their conditions - just like Nemik would have wanted.
Cassian was working at a school, teaching the soldiers to fight and how to look after themselves because even though the war was won, there were still imperialists everywhere.
After they were married officially and had settled in, Cassian had been the one to convince her to have a child.
He had always wanted a family and she was scared but the second that she held him in her arms, she knew that there was no need to be scared anymore.
They had named him Jyron Karis Andor, after his grand father, Jyn, and her best friend. He was a small child, with his father's face and his mother's spirit.
At only six months old, the two shared turns in looking after him while the other was at work but they both cherished the time they spent with each other. 
She finished her look, pulling her coat on over herself to get ready to leave and she left their bedroom, ready to find Cassian.
She looked at a collage of pictures of their little family on the main wall as she walked back, a smile on her face as she was reminded of everythinf they had won.
It was nice to be a normal family for once seeing as they both grew up in turmoil. Jyron was going to have everything they never had.
Harlow walked through the halls when she heard a noise in Jyrons room. She would always be paranoid after everything she's been through, alway worried, always vigilant.
With a hand on her knife which was always concealed in her senators outfit, she approached the room. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw that it was just Cassian hovering over the baby, a smile on his face.
She leant against the doorframe, his back turned to her as he reached a hand into the bassinet.
He whispered something in his native language before shaking his head, lifting him out and placing him in his arms, bouncing him up and down slightly.
"Don't you cry, nothing gonna hurt you here," he said, voice quiet as he probably believed Harlow to still be asleep, "Daddy's always gonna protect you, always,"
She smiled to herself, trying not to cry as she looked at the scene but the second she moved, her foot squeaking on the floorboards, Cassian whipped around, one hand going to hide blaster.
But when he realised it was just his wife, he calmed down, hand coming back up to support Jyron.
He smiled, looking her up and down in her white senators outfit. It was always weird seeing her like that, like she would have been if she had never joined the rebellion.
"Was he crying?" She asked, taking a few steps forward so she could gently rub her hand over her sons back.
"A little, I thought you weren't meant to go in for a few more hours," he questioned and she sighed.
"Yeah, I know," Harlow said, shaking her head, "Leia needed me in, there's been a dispute over the new anti slavery laws in the outer rim, that's my duty so I'm going in early,"
He nodded his head, beckoning his wife into the room. She walked in and he handed the little boy off to her.
He would never be tired of the sight of her rocking their son back and forth, a smile on her face as she brushed the pad of her thumb over his skin.
"You're gonna be good for daddy till I get back aren't you?" She said, voice quiet as she pressed a kiss to his forehead.
When she looked up at the clock, he cursed her job for making her leave and she placed the baby back back in the bassinet.
She walked out of the room with Cassian as they listened to the little boy fall back into his slumber and as soon as the doors closed, Cassian reached for his wife, pulling her to his chest. 
With one hand he reached up and touched the necklaces around her neck. The more you had, the more you had suffered in life and he couldn't imagine the heavy weight she carried.
"Thank you," he said, letting his hand drop back to her hips.
"For what?" Harlow questioned, her brows furrowed but a smile still present on her face.
"For this life, for him, you've given me everything I've ever wanted," he said.
Harlow shook her head, a sad smile on her face, "You saved us on Scarif, if it wasn't for you we never would've gotten off. You gave us this life," she said, a hand coming up to rest on his cheek.
They had both grown with the war, having been born into it and having won it. It showed on their faces, the exhaustion, the scars, the occasional vacant look in their eyes, the tears.
But they were both able to stand here and know that they had given everything to save this world.
There were people they wished could be here, Maarva, Nemik, Clem, Jyn, Melshi. But everyone played their part in saving the galaxy.
"I think we both won this life Cass," she said, leaning in to kiss him.
No matter how many times she kissed him, she'd always cherish it because she knew that any moment this could be taken away.
She pulled away and he just pulled her right back into the kiss, pulling her closer to him.
"Easy Andor, you don't want to end up with another baby," she joked, pulling away again, her hands on his chest.
He smiled at her, forehead pressing against hers, "Would that be so bad?" He teased.
"I think so, we both had siblings and we saw how that turned out," she joked, "You don't know where yours is and mine tried to kill me multiple times,"
He shook his head, pulling away to look at her, "Maybe in the future," he said and she pushed away from him, looking in the mirror to see if her makeup was smudged.
In the mirror, she saw Cassian wiping lipstick from his lips and she smiled, heat rushing to her cheeks, "In your dreams Cassian," she said, eyes meting through the mirror.
He smiled to her, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the exposed skin on her neck, "You're always in my dreams Senator Andor," he said.
She chuckled, turning around and pushing him away slightly. She started to walk away and he followed her, closing their sons bedroom door behind him.
"Remember Brasso is coming round for dinner tonight," Cassian said, handing her an umbrella.
"Of course, tell the mayor of Ferrix that I would love to talk to him about the positive changes our bill has made on the planet," she said, a smile on her face.
After all these years, 6 years after they blew up the death star, they had never lost touch with the people who had gotten them there or the people who weren't able to be there.
"I never thought I'd see you like this," he said, a smile on his face.
Her brows were furrowed as she looked at him, "Like what?" She questioned.
"A politician," he said. She chuckled and shook her head.
"I was always very political when we were in the rebellion," She said, a smile on her face, "And anyway, once I've got this sorted out, hopefully in 3 years, we can move somewhere nice where we don't have to worry about this,"
"I know, I know," he said before pressing a kiss to her cheek,"Be safe yeah,"
"When have i not been?" She joked, pulling her coat over her shoulders, "I love you Cass,"
"Love you too Harlow, don't be late," he said, watching as she walked out of the door.
"You sound like your mother," she called back, a huge smile on her face as she looked back at him.
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cassianandorswife · 1 year
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I'm Home Now | Cassian Andor
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A/N: ah yes I finally wrote something. And also this made me cry
"Your father would be proud of you." The statement was merely a breath from Cassian Andor, almost unheard as the rumbling and breaking of the ground beneath and the shine of the Death Star's blast drew ever closer-- and Jyn smiled.
He meant it-- it was obvious through his eyes, in his voice, the way he'd said the words; but it was still just another breath-- one of his last, as the light began to blind him.
Like the one he had taken when he woke up to the light of Kenari, shaded through the branches of the trees, his sister by his side, face radiant with a smile. "Good morning, Kassa," she would whisper.
Like the one he had taken when his eyes had met for the first time the skies of Ferrix and the red bricks that made the walls, and the tower that Time Grappler stood in, overlooking the town, when the days and night ring their ends and beginnings from the sound of his anvil. When he was no longer Kassa, but Cassian Andor-- the name but a whisper of his past.
Like the deep, trembling breath he'd taken as the soft breezes of Niamos's beaches tousled his hair like his mother would when she had died, and he was nowhere by her side, though as a child, he'd promised to always be with her. The whisper of guilt was louder then than when he had shot the two Corpos on Morlana One.
The breath that led to a cry when he realized, everything he had was gone. That he was a man with nothing to lose and nothing to gain; only the memories to accompany him.Only the whisper of regret.
And now, as the warmth of Jyn's embrace disappeared in flame-- Cassian Andor took his last. The ground disappeared from under him, and he opened his eyes one last time to see everything as it crashed down like meteors around him, becoming both the mixture of darkness and light and the space of nothingness-- and a second later, he was part of it. The agonizing pain was never there.
Only relief.
~
How long was the darkness there?
It felt as if he'd woken up after a good sleep. He blinked-- his eyes were blinded by light. He closed his eyes to clear them, but when they opened once more, he realized it was the world that was hazy, and confusion gripped him.
What happened?
A quick flash of the emerald beam of the Death Star in his mind.
I died. Then how am I still here? 
The burden of life wanted to once again weigh down on his shoulders, but this time, it seemed it couldn't reach him.
There was no ache in his body, no dirt on his hands, and he looked out towards the sea. The beach was clean; the Citadel and all the bodies marring its sands simply disappearing. The sky looked like the Eye of Aldhani, had the storm happened in the day, almost outshone by the sun.
In the short time Cassian had been on Scarif, he hadn't noticed how beautiful the white sands were, or how the waves gently met the shore and darkened the sand ever so slightly. The way the breeze caressed his skin like a dream-- he savored it.
It passed by his ear, and he heard voices, playful and joyous. Turn around, whispered the wind, and something in his heart yearned to answer. But the captain in him was still suspicious, and his hand trailed down to where his blaster was supposed to be, but the cool feel of the blaster's hilt, one that sometimes seemed to ground him in such a morbid way, was not present. Cassian quickly looked down to notice that not even the holster was there, and he furrowed his eyebrows in bewilderment. He let out a breath and turned around, his eyes widening as he took a step forward.
He suddenly recognized the echoing voices as he watched two figures, both children, run around, laughing and breathing heavily, one of them darting into the beyond much faster than the other.
"Cas, wait for me!" 
"Run faster, Bix!"
He needed not to see their faces. The words were enough to shock him to his core. The names. The voices. When had he ever been so blissfully young, so happy and carefree? It seemed as if Kassa was a whole other person. 
And yet, that was him.
"Enjoying the view, my son?" Another familiar voice said from behind him, and his breath hitched in his chest as he turned once more. Cassian simply blinked, and the colors of Scarif faded, and was gone.
He found his feet standing on red stone, a partly cloudy sky above him. But the walls made of brick and the Time Grappler's tower up ahead was not what made him stop in his steps. Nor was it the sight of home--
"This is a dream." He uttered quietly, watching as the face he'd seen over and over again in his dreams step closer with the saddest smile-- looking him over with the proudest expression, tears falling from her eyes as she embraced him. All he needed to know was in the emotion in his mother's eyes-- the visible pride she took to call him her son. There were no words she needed to say, nothing else she needed to do.
"I missed you more than I ever thought I could." Cassian whispered as he tightened his grasp on Maarva, like he was never going to let go of her again, as if not even a blast from the Death Star could separate them once more.
"That's just love, Cas," Maarva said as she broke free from their embrace, taking the time to look over his form once more. "You've grown, Cassian," she chuckled quietly. "And I couldn't be prouder." She stroked his hair back for a moment, and it all still felt unreal to Cassian; the overflowing joy in his heart drowned out everything else. The whispers of regret and guilt faded, and only the tears of joy remained in his eyes, the rain of the storm cloud of emotions that always clouded them.
"Clem, come over here and take a look at your son!" She suddenly called and Cassian turned his gaze forward. It had to be a dream; one of what could have been. He recognized his father's form walking towards him-- this certainly wasn't the nightmare he'd known for his life.
"Cas." The man grinned, and before he could say anything else, he found himself being hugged by the one he called his son. Clem hadn't always thought that-- he was the one to resist Maarva's desire to take him from Kenari. But he truly loved the boy, and the small "father," Cassian had breathed brought back all the good memories they'd had together. "Your mother was right. You really have grown."
They were not father and son by blood, but of the Force.
"There's one more thing we have to show you," Clem smiled, and Cassian recognized it as the smile he had when they had a surprise they knew he would like, and he eagerly followed his parents' gazes as if he were still the innocent, curious child he once had been.
Out of the light came his sister, and there was not a grin on her face-- a sob racked her body and he rushed towards her.
"You said you were coming home, Kassa," she sobbed as his hand brushed over her arm gently. "I was waiting." She sighed, sniffling and wiping away a tear from her face.
"I know, I know," Cassian tried to comfort her and offered her a sad smile, tears springing to his eyes once more. "But I'm home now." 
He looked back to Maarva and Clem as he cradled his younger sister in his embrace, like he used to on Kenari--
"I'm home now."
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iamdesibell · 1 year
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Dune - Cassian Andor x OC fanfic MASTERLIST
Here is the Masterlist for the fic (it's called Dune) Links are to AO3 because apparently, the chapters are too long for Tumblr lol or there’s some kind of isswith it sometimes.
And I'll be updating the Concept art for each chapter here as well (+any additional concept art that comes along).
Characters: Cassian Andor and Original Female Character; other characters from the SW universe may appear
Warnings and tags: Loosely set sometime between Andor and Rouge One; Slow Burn; canon stuff but don't come at me if not accurate; very mature content; Serious Injuries; Implied/Referenced Self-Harm Triggers; No Fluff; concept art for every chapter; artwork; tags will be added as story progresses keep an eye out;
Summary:
Loneliness is an old friend that sticks to the sole of the shoes like mud or more like the slurry of the mess that covers the endless fields of Dessi's home planet. But a crashed pilot is about to change her life forever.
Will he help her figure out who she is, or awake in her something long asleep? Will they trust each other or hide behind their pain masked as skill, fight and means to escape?
Two different worlds clashing into each other and realising they are the same.
Two paths winding, crossing and deviating.
Two damaged souls figuring out their future and themselves.
Are they lying to each other only to gain a moment of peace or is it all true as the cold, as the mud, as the struggle?
Chapter 1: Alone
Chapter 2: The Crash
Chapter 3: What Planet?
Chapter 4: Dantoo Town
Chapter 5. The Razor Crest
Chapter 6: The Great Forest
Chapter 7: The Temple
Chapter 8: Kyber
Chapter 9: The Smuggler
Chapter 10: The Lake
Chapter 11: Monsters
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I'll be taking recommendations here as well if you have some :)
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ladyxskywalker · 2 years
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ao3 fic rec 💌
title: the sun, the moon, and the sea
author: @obirain-remade obirain on ao3
fandom: rogue one, cassian andor
summary 📖 | series link here 💌
After a series of failed missions to the refugee moon Veneskar, Captain Andrew Kaaza and Lieutenant Cassian Andor are the Rebellion's last hope. But their mission begins to sour from Day One. It's salvageable, maybe, by the stern but idealistic Point Runner—if and only if Cassian can convince her to set aside her principles.
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annisthree · 1 year
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Chapter X: Everything back in place
previous chapter // series masterlist // next chapter
Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character
Word Count: ~6.5k
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Explicit language, canon typical violence, mentions of torture, angst, blood, injury, interrogation, deteriorating mental health, mentions of death, surgery (mentioned), drugs, needles
Chapter summary:With the help of other Rebel cells, Cassian and his crewmates set off to take over the Imperial prison Marla has gone to infiltrate.
A/N: Thank you for your patience again. Fair warning: this gets pretty grim at one point. I kept rewriting this chapter (I lost track of how many different versions there were) because the first draft was so bloody dark it was barely readable, even for me. This is a toned-down version, but it's still pretty angsty. However, I also made sure to add something a bit fluffy at the end so that it's not all that depressing.
Trigger warnings for angst, blood, injury, broken bones, torture (indirect), interrogation, nightmares, drugs, needles, surgeries (mentioned) and deteriorating mental health. I mean it, guys.
Oh, and it's the longest chapter so far. Finishing this earlier just seemed... cruel.
Cross-posted on AO3 (same username).
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The hyperspace had never looked this cold and cruel before. Cassian usually enjoyed staring into the infinitely blue blur of stars and planets, letting his mind wander for a while. It was almost meditative, with the constant hum of the engine and the rhythmic beep of one of the controls punctuating his thoughts.
But not today. For one, he was in the wrong seat - he never really piloted the Blackbird, it was Marla's thing, and he didn't mind being a co-pilot. They worked together so well that they barely needed to communicate; Cassian knew when to react to Marla's moves, knew that as soon as she reached for the acceleration compensator he'd need to adjust the engine power down to eighty per cent to compensate for the loss in speed, knew that whenever she entered the atmosphere he'd need to divert some power to the forward shields to avoid overheating. It was an intricately choreographed dance, and they worked in perfect sync.
And when they reached for the hyperspace lever, he would sometimes bump his hand into hers, accidentally, of course. The lever was designed for two people to push at the same time, but it was still relatively narrow, so occasional physical contact was inevitable. Or so he would tell himself each time he felt a gentle brush of her hand next to his.
And when the omnipresent blueness of hyperspace drowned everything in sight, they had this unspoken rule of staying in their seats for a while, not talking, just staring out of the viewport and allowing themselves to be hypnotised by the familiar sight. They would go their separate ways after a couple of minutes, one of them standing up and leaving the cockpit without a word, but those small moments were almost sacred, as if the ritual was somehow going to ensure the success of whatever journey they were embarking on.
But she was not here now, and he was sitting on the wrong side of the cockpit, left alone to deal with the weight of her absence and his guilt.
He never for a second doubted that it was his fault. If only he had been faster, if only he'd gotten to that prison on Scen on time - she wouldn't have had to improvise to find an alternative way of tracking the prisoners. If only he'd chosen her to be part of his team instead of pushing her away where she couldn't distract him - he could have stopped her from doing something this stupid.
If only he hadn't been such a fool, he wouldn't have risked the friendship with the one person he couldn't afford to lose.
But right now, the only important thing was to make sure she was safe. Cassian could - perhaps - bear the pain of losing her friendship, but he had no idea what he would do if something ever happened to her.
'Hey,' someone murmured from behind his back. 'Go get some sleep, kid. I'll wake you up if she gets through.'
'Thanks, Sal. I'm not tired.'
There was concern painted on Salvatore's face, and Cassian realised it evoked a level of frustration he couldn't rationally justify.
He didn't need to be cared for, damn it, nor did he require them to tip-toe around him like he was a ticking bomb. Why were they thinking about him, anyway? They should be concerned about Marla.
'Well, the bags under your eyes say otherwise. Come on. We have a big mission tomorrow. You're not helping anyone by sitting here and staring at the comm receiver.'
Cassian wanted to protest again, but he was indeed too tired to argue. Maybe Salvatore was right. He needed to be on top of his game the following day.
'Thanks,' he nodded and stood up. 'Just wake me up if she- you know.'
'Sure thing, kid. Good night.'
*
After her capture, Marla was thrown into an empty, cold cell and seemingly forgotten about. Of course, that was just part of a strategy meant to break her before they even started asking any questions.
The only thing that occasionally disrupted her otherwise painfully monotonous wait was a regular delivery of food (masterfully dull and tasteless) and water. Every couple of hours - three times a day, she assumed - a small opening in the door was used to slide in a tray with her meal, and then, sometime later, to retrieve the leftovers.
Based on that, Marla had calculated that she must have been there for four standard days. She was tired, cold and aching - she used a torn-off strap of her shirt to bandage her hand in an attempt to immobilise her broken fingers, but it did little good, and there was nothing she could do for her fractured ribs.
But the most painful thing she had to deal with was listening to the neverending screams coming from the other room. With nothing better to do, her mind was constantly coming up with visions of what exactly they must have been doing to these people to evoke such petrifying sounds. She knew that was just what they were hoping for - leaving her waiting and anxious, letting her brain do the torturing for them.
One time, the screams ended abruptly, and then the silence was broken by a loud singing, the most soul-wrenching melody accompanied by a loud buzz of some machinery, chilling Marla to the bone. And then the singing stopped, as did the other sound; but in her head, the music continued until her brain gave up entirely, and she fell asleep.
She was hoping for some rest, for a quiet, dreamless night. Unfortunately, it turned out to be anything but dreamless.
It started with her walking through the prison halls, going down a seemingly endless corridor with hundreds of doors on both sides. It looked exactly the same as she remembered, but it was quiet, so unnaturally quiet; she couldn't even hear her own footsteps.
After some time, the view began changing: she noticed something spilling out from beneath a large pair of blast doors; first slowly, and then rapidly gaining momentum, until the door burst wide open, crushed by the force of waves coming from outside; and before she knew it she was knee-deep in blood, struggling to walk forward, but she knew she had to, she knew she should run, but there was more and more blood until it reached her chin, and she closed her eyes ready to be drowned, but when she opened them, she was no longer in prison.
She was now on the Blackbird - only it was also unnaturally quiet, lacking the familiar rumble of the engine, or the loud conversation between the crewmembers, or the monotonous hum of the hyperspace. She walked up the ramp to the common room and saw Cassian sitting on the sofa, but he was quiet too, quiet and lifeless. As she came closer, she noticed that the sofa was soaked with blood, his blood. She tried to stop the bleeding, but his lips were already blue, and there was  so much blood .
And then someone dragged her away to another room, and she found herself facing General Dodonna. He was calm and composed, the way he always was, but his eyes were full of disappointment. Slowly, he raised his arm and pointed his blaster at her.
You have destroyed everything we worked on. 
She wanted to speak, wanted to assure him she did nothing of the kind, but she was unable to produce any sounds. Even Dodonna's words weren't audible, she heard them in her head, and she realised he wasn't even moving his lips.
You've always had a bad influence on people, but I would never have thought you would do this to Cassian. You did this to him, you made him let his guard down, made him careless and naive. And now he's dead, and it's all your fault. 
And then Dodonna closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.
Marla woke up screaming. It took a moment to realise it was just a dream. As the panic subsided, she noticed the increasing wave of nausea taking over her body - and soon enough, she was bending over in the corner of the room and vomiting profusely.
After a couple of minutes, she walked back to her preferred corner and slid down the wall, resting her forehead on her knees.
The song, the one she had heard earlier in the other room, came back to her, and she couldn't stop herself from humming the melody, rocking rhythmically from side to side, closing her eyes to counteract the sudden dizziness.
*
'Cassian, wake up.'
Cassian sat up abruptly in his bed. His mind was clouded by the residual dread left over from the nightmare he must have had. The details of the dream had already evaded him; the only thing he remembered was that he was bleeding, clutching his side and watching the redness flow through his fingers.
Focus . Someone woke him up. Did that mean..?
'Is it Marla? Did she finally get through? Is she okay?'
The person standing in the doorway was Salvatore. There was a small night light in Cassian's quarters, which gave just enough light to see the apologetic look on the old man's face.
'Sorry, kid. It's the General. We're nearing the rendez-vous point.'
Cassian let out a long breath. He really didn't want to speak to the general; in fact, he didn't really feel like talking to  anyone , or almost anyone, maybe with one small exception.
But he knew what he had to do, and so he dragged himself out of bed, throwing on a jacket on his way.
Everyone else was already in the command room, gathered around the holotable that displayed the projection of General Dodonna. The atmosphere was tense; it had been that way ever since they left Scen. No one openly admitted how anxious they were, but everyone knew it anyway.
'-joining you as soon as you arrive in the system. You are to enter the atmosphere on the far side of the planet to avoid detection and then stay as low as possible until you get to the designated landing zone. Get as close to the facility as possible; there is no time for subtlety. Thanks to our friends from the Phoenix group, we have the right numbers needed for an open assault. The sooner you are done, the better - we don't want to give them time to start killing the prisoners or call for reinforcements.'
Cassian knew the old man had a soft spot for Marla and must have been affected by her disappearance, but he looked just composed and confident as ever. Only a tiny hint of sharpness in his voice revealed his apprehension, which made Cassian feel both comforted - because someone understood his own concerns - and anxious- because if the general was worried, then it meant the danger was  real , not just an exaggerated figment of his increasingly unreasonable mind.
'Whatever happens down there, just remember to stay sharp. Bring them all home. And may the force be with you.'
*
'You probably think you're a hero, sneaking in here, killing four guards, refusing to talk. Well, let me tell you: they all think they're heroes. And then they all end up talking.'
The contrast between her dark cell and the fluorescent lights in the room - lab room? - she was dragged to was hurting her eyes. Marla blinked quickly, trying to register her surroundings.
The floors and walls were covered in identical white tiles. There was a chair in the middle of the room, the one they strapped her to. To her left was a bed, like the one they have in med centres: covered in white cloth, with restraints attached in several places. On a table next to the bed, there was a durasteel tray with some medical-looking appliances: a scalpel, several types of scissors, some cotton swabs, and a small hand saw. And a datapad. Marla made a mental note to try and get her hands on that last object.
'It's disappointing, really. Boring. You'd think at least some of you lowlife scum would provide a challenge, but underneath a thin layer of fake bravado, you are all weak and pathetic.'
The man that was talking to her - at her - was dressed in a white lab coat. His pronunciation was rather odd - Marla noted he was trying to imitate a Coruscanti accent, but it was clearly just an act.
'So. You're not on the prisoner list, which means you came here by yourself. They also tell me you put up quite a fight and answered all questions with a string of expletives.'
Marla eyed the man, trying to convey as much disgust and loathing as possible.
'Not to worry, though. We have just the right thing to make you talk.'
He turned around for a moment, and when he faced her again, he was holding a syringe. For a moment, Marla's mind went completely blank, but then she felt a cold wave of panic creeping into her mind. She started desperately pulling on the straps around her wrists and legs, trying to rip them off, even though she knew it was pointless.
'Not so brave now, huh?'
It was, indeed, pointless. Soon, she felt a dull sting of a needle in her arm.
'Here's what's gonna happen now; you'll stay here for a while, and once you're all good and ready, we'll have a little chat. I have so many questions,' the doctor said with a smile. Before she could react, he took off his protective gloves and walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
At first, nothing felt out of place. Marla figured out she would try and count the seconds to better understand how much time had passed, but after several minutes it became a bit more difficult to focus, and a moment later she completely lost track. She had no idea what they gave her; torture wasn't exactly part of the curriculum at the Military Academy back when she attended it. She wondered if it was now, or if they learnt that later, once they put them in Imperial uniforms and sent them out to fight the  Rebel scum .
She was getting a bit dizzy, and her thoughts slowed down significantly, but she figured it wasn't all that bad. At least so far.
She began thinking through her options. There didn't seem to be a way to get out of the restraints, but she might have more luck while they transported her back to her cell. There were three guards walking her to the lab; she figured she could somehow distract and knock down one of them, hopefully fast enough to grab his blaster. Shooting with tied hands wasn't the most convenient, but it certainly wasn't impossible, either.
Her scheming was suddenly interrupted by a loud noise outside the room. It was a bit difficult to identify in her increasingly hazy state, but the sound was definitely  new , unexpected. Whatever it was, she was hoping she could use it as a distraction.
But then the door opened abruptly, and a tall figure barged in, quickly looking around with a blaster in the outstretched arm.
The drug must have already started working because it took her a while to identify the person. But then she started slowly recognising that face, the same one she saw whenever she closed her eyes.
'Took you long enough,' she said lightly, trying to mask the relief in her voice.
Cassian wasn't wasting any time. He barely acknowledged her, focusing his attention on undoing her restraints.
'Come on, we're getting you out of here.'
'Wait,' she called out, following him outside. The corridor was completely empty; there was no sign of fighting. 'How did you get here? And how do we get out everyone else?'
Cassian stopped and looked back at her. He seemed... irritated? Or was he just so intensely focused on the mission? It was so difficult to tell, with the drug still clouding her judgement.
'We really don't have time. I'll tell you everything later.'
Before she could react, he was already dragging her through the halls, his fingers digging into her arm. Marla wanted to protest, but she was tired, so tired, and talking suddenly felt like such an effort...
'We have to report back to command,' Cassian said, focusing his eyes on the hallway ahead. 'They took your comlink, right? That's fine. Tell me who gave you the orders, and we can debrief them as soon as we're out.'
Maker, she was really having a hard time understanding what he wanted from her.
'Orders?'
'Yes. Tell me who sent you here so that I can reach out to them. We need to report back.'
Marla tried, she  really  tried, but it made no sense. What orders? He must have known why she had come here, and he certainly knew she hadn't been  ordered  to do so. He should be telling her off for disobeying him again. Why was he asking about who sent her here?
And then, somehow, she managed to reach the logical part of her brain through all that confusing haze, just for a brief moment - but long enough to figure out what was happening.
'Where did we first meet?' she asked, stopping suddenly. She was surprised at how much strength she found within herself, even though the walls around her were still spinning in circles.
Cassian stopped, too, but he didn't face her at first - and when he did, his expression told her all she needed to know.
'What? Stop being ridiculous. I told you we don't have time.'
The sound of her own laughter surprised her.
'Nice try. Almost got me there, doctor.'
Marla blinked rapidly, and when she focused her eyes again, Cassian's clothes turned into a white lab coat, and his dark hair became white and thin. She was in the lab again, still tied to the same chair. Her head was still spinning a bit, but she was no longer hallucinating.
The doctor mumbled something with frustration and walked quickly across the room to grab a datapad.
'Fine. It would have been easier for you this way, you know? You could have just said everything I wanted to know while blissfully unaware; it wouldn't even hurt. But fine, have it your way. I'll sign you up for the next round of tests. We'll see how clever you are when you're being cut open.'
Marla's mind went blank again, and she slowly tried to piece together the meaning of the words that echoed through her brain.
The confusion must have been visible on her face because the doctor let out a short burst of laughter.
'Oh, you don't know, do you? Funny, I thought that's why they sent you here. Well then, you'll be delighted to know you have just become part of our most advanced research program. We are the largest government-funded cybernetics manufacturer in the whole galaxy. There's a huge market for prosthetic enhancements, what with the war and all. We specialise in perfecting the body through science, expanding human abilities, improving nature's imperfections.'
A familiar urge to vomit took over Marla's body.
'Thing is,' the doctor continued, his smile even wider, 'you can't just sell things to the military without testing them first; you wouldn't want Imperial soldiers with malfunctioning cyberarms or mechno-lenses. Luckily,' he chuckled, 'there's a surplus of useless lowlifes like yourself that work perfectly as test subjects.'
The walls began spinning again, but it was no longer the drug. Before she could stop it, Marla leaned over one of the armrests and threw up again, accompanied by an amused chuckle coming from the other end of the room.
As nausea slowly subsided, she felt an icy wave of terror creeping into her mind, replacing all other feelings and thoughts. But no, wait, there was something else in there; there was a sound, something she had heard recently. Was it...? Yes, it was the same song one of the prisoners sang earlier, the familiar notes etched into her brain, over and over again, like a nursery rhyme, like a record that got stuck on repeat.
It accompanied her all the way back to her cell, until someone pushed her and she fell on the floor, losing consciousness.
She had never been happier to black out.
*
'What the fuck is this?' someone behind muttered, disbelief mixed with disgust.
Cassian wasn't used to such large operations. With the limited number of soldiers they had available, they usually went in quietly - first sending in one person to scout and disable the security, then having the rest sneak in through some sort of back entrance or crawl through the vents, find their target and leave as quietly as they entered, occasionally blowing something up on their way out.
This was different: for the first time in a while, they had the numbers. There were the Rebels from Scen, who unanimously decided to accompany them on the mission, but there was also the additional unit sent in by General Dodonna as a backup.
Cassian has heard about the Ghost crew, but he never worked with them before. He knew they used to form an entirely separate Rebel cell before joining General Sato's forces. From what he understood, General Dodonna has been in contact with the other cell more and more in recent months, which allowed them sometimes to join forces for larger operations like this one.
Marla would have this , Cassian thought before he could stop himself. 
Focus .
As unusual as it felt to just enter through the front door and start blasting everything in sight, Cassian had to admit they were effective and fast. And time was something they did not have much of, which became even more evident once they got inside and began piecing together what the facility had been used for.
Coming in, they had little idea what they would find inside. They knew there were prisoners, but they also knew about the large shipment of parts and medical supplies, and no one was able to deduce how (and if) these two things were connected.
That is, until they started searching the facility and discovered the massive room filled with screens that displayed security footage. There were over a hundred cells filled with people. Some were lying on the floor, staring blindly at the ceiling. Some were pacing around the cell, screaming, talking to themselves, singing.
They quickly noticed there was one common denominator - all the prisoners had some sort of prosthetic enhancements installed. Mechanical legs, arms, eyes - all kinds of cybernetics.
A further search led them to a research office, where they saw screens filled with different schematics of new prosthetics, along with some notes on reliability and detailed reports from studying the test subjects. They also found a storage room full of parts - presumably the ones they shipped from Scen - and another one filled with already assembled cybernetics.
Cassian had never seen anything like this before. He was deeply familiar with the atrocities the Empire was capable of, but he had never seen anything that could even remotely compare to this. 
But there was no time to think about it.
As they advanced through the halls, the soldiers started to fan out, searching for the part of the facility they saw on the security footage, the one where all the prisoners were held. Cassian moved towards the back of the building, accompanied by part of the Ghost crew: a fierce Twi'lek woman that Cassian identified as their captain and a small but rather chatty droid. 
'They're here!' someone shouted in the distance, and Cassian felt almost physically sick with nerves.
Please let her be okay, please let her be okay, please let her be okay.
*
Marla's head was pounding. She figured it was probably a mixture of dehydration (she was sweating buckets, and they were only giving her just enough water to survive) combined with the effects of coming down from whatever they injected her with. Oh, and the constant screaming from another room.
Over the past couple of days, she has learnt to recognise the voices - there were a lot of new ones every day, but there have also been some frequent appearances: a deep-voiced man who was cursing in Huttese; another man who was clearly trying to say a prayer in between his screams; and a much higher voice that sounded almost child-like - in a feeble attempt to hold onto the last shreds of her sanity, Marla has decided that it was not a child, but simply a representative of some high-voiced species. It felt better than the alternative.
But the best alternative was to pretend that this, too, was a part of some wicked, drug-induced hallucination. It wasn't that difficult; the substance lingered in her bloodstream for a long time, so she occasionally still saw or heard things she hadn't before. And if those things had been a product of her drugged state, then maybe the rest was, too? Perhaps she was still on Scen, lying in her big, comfortable bed, dozing off to the sound of Cassian's breath next to her.
No, surely that had never happened, either.
All that was so incredibly confusing, and the more she thought about it, the less sure she was of anything. Some memories started merging together, some became anachronical, some transformed into a dream she must have had a long time ago.
Was she ever part of the Rebellion? Was that before or after she joined the Academy? Surely, the memory of pulling the trigger and watching the man she used to share a bed with... surely that was just a bad dream, or maybe some melodramatic story she'd read somewhere. The man in her memories constantly morphed, assuming different disguises until she saw it was Cassian, but she realised it too late because she had already pulled the trigger, and there was a loud noise and blood everywhere.
But then the same noise repeated again, and again, and then she finally realised it wasn't a gunshot, but a dull sound of something smashing her cell door. As it continued, she started registering more: someone was shouting something, but not in pain; no, there was a certain urgency in that new voice, and then there was another voice, and then yes, that time it was most definitely a blaster shot.
And then the darkness subsided, and she was blinded by a sudden explosion of light, too sharp to let her see anything else. The voices got closer, but they must have been speaking a language she didn't know; it all sounded so distant and unfamiliar and  unreal .
Slowly, her eyes started adapting to the brightness, registering various colours and shapes dancing in front of her. It was all so fast it made no sense, so she just tilted her head back and closed her eyes again, waiting for the hallucination to be over.
But then she felt a hand squeezing her shoulder, and soon someone was shaking her. She realised she felt like a ragdoll, with buttons for eyes and a silly painted-on smile, and she almost laughed.
'Marla! Hey, it's me. We're getting everyone out of here.'
Now she was really laughing. It hurt her throat a little; she hadn't used her voice in quite some time, since that interrogation, and it was so dry, so irritated. But the thought of annoying her interrogators was as tempting as ever, and so she kept laughing, just to show them how little she cared about whatever they were doing to her.
'We don't have time. Hey, look at me,' another voice, this time female, sharp and full of urgency, but also somehow... warm? Concerned? 'Spectre four, this is Spectre two. We're having a little hold-up here. Try to buy us some time.'
Curious, Marla slowly opened her eyes again and tried to focus on the figures in front of her.
And once she did, she realised it must have been starting all over again, the interrogation, the cruel roleplay that made her see the person she wanted to see the most, and she tried to move away, but the cold wall behind her back was unyielding.
'Hey. It's me.'
She forced a contemptuous laugh, but her eyes were beginning to feel suspiciously watery, and she realised she wouldn't be able to feign indifference for much longer.
'Right,' she muttered quietly, weakly.
Her face became suddenly warm, and she realised someone was cupping her cheeks in their hands. Hands that smelled like jet fuel, powdered military rations, instant caf, and  Cassian .
'Hey. Come one, we've gotta get you out of here.'
She had to be strong; surely, it was just another trick. She couldn't let them break her now.
But Maker,  that smell .
'Where did we first meet,' she tried again, weakly, but with a small glimmer of hope.
'Malastare. Imperial weapon factory. What the hell did they do to you, Marla?'
Her vision got blurry again, but this time it wasn't hallucinations. She wanted to be strong, she needed to be strong, and so she bit down her lower lip to stop it from trembling.
It was him. Stars, it was him.
*
Only when all the weight dropped from his shoulders did he realise how worried he had been. He had been suppressing all sorts of conflicting feelings in the past couple of days, compartmentalising them in his brain, telling himself he would deal with them later.
But now that later came, and Cassian realised just how unprepared he was to deal with all of that.
It started the moment he saw her curled up in that dark cell, when he saw her empty - but, Maker,  alive  - eyes. It was the sweetest and the most painful sight in the world, to see her breathing, but paler with each exhale; talking to him, but with a voice that was barely audible, tired, shaky.
He knew he had to get her out of there before the reinforcements arrived. He heard someone's voice behind him telling him that they needed to go  now . And so he pushed away the rising wave of unidentified feelings, again, leaving them to be deconstructed later.
Cassian helped her up and ensured she could walk - she was struggling a bit, so he draped her arm over his shoulders to support her. He kept his other hand outstretched with a blaster pointing forward, even though he wasn't sure if he'd be able to hit anything at that moment.
But luckily, there were others, and soon someone was waving at him to guide him to the entrance, and someone else was screaming something about explosives, and someone else was carrying one of the unconscious prisoners, and Cassian was so used to looking for Marla everywhere that for a moment he saw her features in that lifeless face, only to realise that she was there with him, alive, and he no longer had to look for her.
As they were approaching the ship, someone offered to help him and take over Marla, and Cassian just sent the man a confused look and tightened the grip on her waist.
It wasn't until they were on the ship that he realised just how many other people they got out, some just scared and exhausted, others barely alive, and the gravity of the mission hit him for a moment.  So many people. 
He stopped the first competent-looking person he saw (probably one of the Scen rebels, Cassian didn't recognise the face) and told them to use the bed in the captain's quarters for one of those most injured, and then he helped Marla get to her own room and gently lowered her to her bed.
She seemed a bit more aware, a bit closer to reality, but she was still silent.
Someone entered the room and told him they would take care of her and that he was needed in the cockpit, and he almost didn't listen, he almost stayed with her to make sure she was really there and wouldn't disappear again.
But the mission wasn't over; someone needed to take them off this rock, and seeing how their primary pilot was now in a state of deep shock, he knew that someone would have to be him.
So he just ensured the man would take care of her and promptly walked away towards the cockpit, almost bumping into several people on his way.
And then they were off the ground, safe in the skies, and he could finally breathe.
*
The last thing they saw before leaving the atmosphere was a massive explosion and flames consuming what remained of the  research facility .
They had split the prisoners between the two ships - the Blackbird was slightly larger but still couldn't fit everyone, so those that didn't require immediate medical attention had been picked up by Ghost. By a stroke of luck, one of the Rebels that joined them after their mission on Scen was actually a retired nurse, and several others were competent enough that they were able to assist with the many injured they currently had on board.
As soon as they entered the hyperspace, Cassian rushed to Marla's quarters. Coming into the room, he almost bumped into a man with a med bag - and a freshly forming bruise on his jaw.
'Gave her some light sedatives. She wasn't particularly happy about it,' the man pointed at his jaw, 'but she should be asleep for a while. That's all I can do for her now; the broken bones will need to be fixed once we arrive at the base; they should also probably hook her up to an IV for a while, she is extremely dehydrated. Although, I wouldn't want to be the one administering that,' he smirked gently and paused for a moment, searching Cassian's face. 'She needs rest, don't wake her up.'
Cassian just nodded and entered the room.
She was lying on the bed, eyes closed, chest rising and falling rhythmically.
It finally hit him, everything that he had been suppressing in the past couple of days, and he had to close his eyes and take a couple of deep breaths before he could look at her again. After a moment, he slowly lowered himself to the floor next to her bed, leaning against the wall and resting his arms on his knees.
She looked so calm.
He knew sitting there was useless, but he couldn't force himself to leave, not yet, not in the moment that felt almost stolen, intimate, and so infinitely precious.
It took a while before he decided to go and finish the mission report. He hesitated a moment as he stood up, but the urge was too strong.
The gentle kiss he left on her forehead meant more to him than any other physical contact he'd ever experienced.
*
'I have just finished reading your report. It's... It's deeply disturbing. Good thing you got there on time.'
Cassian nodded slowly towards the blue holoprojection of General Dodonna. The man looked somehow even older than he was; the wrinkles on his forehead deepened significantly as he furrowed his brows in an expression of concern.
'How is Marla?' the general changed the subject, a hint of softness sneaking into his voice.
'Alive. Currently asleep. A couple of broken ribs and fingers, dehydration and severe exhaustion, but the medic says she should be good as new in a couple of days.'
Dodonna nodded, one corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
'Good. Tell her she did a good job.'
'She disobeyed her direct orders and embarked on a suicide mission without authorisation.'
This time, the general chuckled softly.
'Don't act like you wouldn't do the same thing, Captain Andor.'
Cassian hung his head to hide the tiniest hint of a smile that crept onto his lips.
'You  all  did a good job. Get some rest now, and bring my birds home.'
'Yes, sir,' Cassian's quiet confirmation echoed through the empty cockpit as the blue holoprojection disappeared.
He briefly considered following the general's advice and getting some rest, but his quarters had been transformed into a makeshift med bay, and in any case, he was fairly sure he wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. Instead, he sat down in the pilot's chair and let the blue lights outside the viewport guide him into a familiar state of calmness.
He got so immersed in the view that he almost missed the sound of footsteps, first on the ramp and then approaching the cockpit from the back of the ship.
'Hey, you,' Marla's voice was quieter, more tired than usual, but it was still Marla's voice, and that was enough to steal the breath from his lungs for a couple of seconds.
'You should be resting,' he said as flatly as he could, trying to mask the shakiness in his own voice.
As he turned around in his chair, he saw her standing in the entryway - her face almost grey in colour, her hair tangled and sticking to her forehead, her clothes dirty and ripped in several places - and she never looked more beautiful to him.
'The sedative wore off. Can't sleep anymore.'
Cassian mentally scolded himself for staring and stood up, silently inviting her to sit in the pilot's chair. A small smile crept onto her lips, and suddenly all of that tiredness seemed to wash away from her features.
'Everything is back in place, huh?' she said as she sat down, not looking at him.
Everything is back in place . Maybe, but not entirely. Yes, sitting next to her in silence and looking out at the stars felt so good, so familiar - but there was something different this time, something he couldn't quite define. It wasn't anything wrong or scary, just... different.
Cassian noticed that, for the first time in a while, there was no awkwardness between them, no tension or nervousness. It somehow felt so comfortable, so natural, just sitting together in the flickering lights of the stars outside, letting the silence express everything they weren't able to articulate.
'Yeah. Everything is back in place.'
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ser-rctslcyer · 2 years
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Just My Love & I || Cassian Andor
Pairing: Cassian Andor x Kit Arendale (Sephi! Transmasc! OC) 
Word Count: 1.2k 
Request: Hewwo my love!!!! Can I get Sephicaptain cuddling after a mission!!! Maybe they're finally able to settle for the first time in days!! nuzzling into each other & exchanging soft kisses!!!!! Maybe talks of going on a trip somewhere peaceful when everything is done?
Warnings: Fluff, Domestic Bliss, Cuddling & Snuggling
A/N: i wish nothing but fluffy good vibes for these two (and for you my love @mccnknightstcrdst)
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The landing gear hissed as it hit the ground, making the ship jump a small bit. A sigh escaped Cassian, happy to be back on Yavin 4 and out of immediate danger. He unbuckled his seatbelt, standing up with a groan and giving K-2 a pat on the shoulder. The droid was uncharacteristically quiet, but seeming how their mission went he could probably guess why. He stepped off the ship, greeted with a soft warm breeze, and began making his way to the meeting room. He could make his briefing as short as possible and then he could return to his room and get the rest he needed. Footsteps rushed behind him and suddenly he lurched forward, to arms pulling him back so he wouldn’t fall. He blinked a couple of times, trying to register what happened until he recognized the pale lavender hands around him. 
“Hello to you too, Pointy.” he laughed, fondly squeezing the arms around him. His smile grows wider from the little giggle behind him; the arms retract and he turns to face his lover. Kit grins as his ears flap happily–  almost enough to distract from the dark circles under his eyes.
‘He’s just as tired as I am,’ he thinks, briefly wondering what his mission was like before a pair of lips meet his own. He sighs into the soft kiss, his hands instantly moving to caress his cheek while the other moved to hold his lower back. 
“I missed you,” he murmurs and Cassian hums in agreement.
“I missed you too,” he brushes his nose against the Sephi’s; closing his eyes and letting himself their closeness. It’s perfect and he wants nothing more than to stay like this. 
“I still need to do my briefing,” he sighs, brows knitting but he remains unmoving. 
“How unfortunate,” Kit chuckles, pulling away; his bright blue eyes looking at him cheerfully, “see you after?”
“Always.” he pecks his nose, finally detaching himself from the shorter man before heading inside. He keeps his report as short as possible, leaving before they started plotting their next moves. He could hear about it later; for now, there was only one person he wanted to be with right now. 
He walks briskly through the halls, swerving through people until he found his room. He entered, surprised to see it seemingly empty until he heard the bathroom door open. Kit stepped out, a towel around his waist while he dried his hair with another; a grin stretched over his lips upon looking up to see him. 
“Left some warm water for you.” he steps forward, his hands finding his hips as he looks over his partner. 
“Thank you,” he whispers, brush small half circles enjoying the softness of his skin. He can’t take his eyes off of his exposed self, the few clinging water droplets, and of course his slightly parted lips.
“Cassian.” he warns, already knowing what he was planning but the spy didn’t care. He kissed him passionately, tongue swiping over the inside of his mouth. Kit’s hands claw into his vest, tugging him closer and both of them whine— this affection was long overdue. 
“Shower first, baby.” Kit pants quietly; his tongue darting between his lips.
“It takes so long though,” Cassian grumbles,  pressing his forehead against his,“it feels like I haven’t kissed you in forever,” his complaint earns him a chuckle.
“Dramatic much, baby?”
“No,” he pouts, leaning in again, nipping at his lips before stealing another kiss.
“Starshine,” Kit murmurs, pulling away from his face “shower.” he repeats and Cassian lets out a sigh. 
“Fine, sweetheart.” he lets go him, giving one last peck on the cheek before heading to the bathroom. The warm water is another treat he missed when away as he scrubs away the dirt and grime from his skin. He feels refreshed as he steps out, hair mostly dry and a towel hugging his hips.
“All done?” Kit asked, bunkered down in the bed, wearing his pale tan shirt and some boxers.
“All done.” he hums, putting on his pair before sliding in on the other side of the bed. He welcomes Kit with open arms, tugging him to his chest as he settles under the covers. He keeps his arms around his waist, while Kit’s hands settle in his chest; the two of them laying face to face, their noses brushing against one another.
“So you had a rough time too?”
“Didn’t get any info, and it went down from there.” he whispers, not wanting to focus on all the trouble he just go through.
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“It’s okay, I’m just happy to be back in your arms, starfire.” he kissing the corner of his lips, as his fingers begin dancing along Kit’s lower back.
“Me too,” he pecks his nose, “maker, it’s been a while since we’ve been away from each other for this long.”
“Mhm, it’s awful.”
“I agree.”
“I wish we could stay like this forever.” 
“Me too starshine.” he hums, fingers dancing over his bare skin. They stay like that for a moment, until Cassian gently shifts him into his back, hovering over the smaller man and resting his hand in his cheek. His blue eyes soften as he looks over his face; his lavender hand gently cupping the back of his own.
“Where would you want to go,” he speaks, surprised by the quietness in his own voice but continues, “once this is all over?” he tries to ignore his pounding heart as he peers down at the man below him.
“I don’t know, I never really thought that far.” the Sephi chuckles quietly, a small nervous smile stretching across his lips. 
“Me neither, truthfully.” he admits bashfully, his brown eyes falling away from the sky. He had never pondered this question at all since this war began, knowing all too that his future could easily be just a dream. He never envisioned it but after two years of wanting, he had begun to have hope again he’d finally see the end. Though the silence builds his anxiety, thinking that for the first time, he had asked the wrong question.
“Somewhere quiet for sure,” Kit finally answers and he slowly looks back up at his lover, who’s smile is softer than the clouds he’s flown through.
“Where the wind sings softly and the grasses and trees dance all around us.” his other hand reaches up and strokes his cheek; his soft fingers gently scratching over his stubble.
“Our bed would be so much softer than this one and we’d have our own little fireplace.” he expresses with such conviction, he can almost feel the warmth of the fire in their home.
“The soft crashing of ocean waves echoing softly in our little home, as we’re all wrapped in our love.” he finishes and he can’t help but lean down and kiss him.
“I love how that sounds, angel.” he revels, blinking away the tears from his eyes.
“Did it on the fly.” Kit jokes, earning a chuckle from Cassian. He settles back down on the bed, tugging his lover onto his chest.
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sith-as-heck · 1 year
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Something about him wanted her to bare her soul to him, which she supposed was a good trait to have as a spy. 
“They are just people.”  
“Yeah but people that can..” He moves his hand, in what she assumed was meant to be like a jedi using the Force “Move shit with their mind.”
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waterpancakeao3 · 2 years
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Chapter Seven: Quick and Painless
“You mentioned once you knew a Jyn who ran with the Partisans.”
“You remember that?”
“You’d be surprised how much I remember.” Half deflecting, half flirting, a sliver of truth. It works; her dark eyes flicker away from his, already ceding ground. “Think you could ID her?”
The answer comes too quickly: “She’s dead.”
“You used to be a better liar.”
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// Prologue // Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six // Chapter Seven
The Bridge Between the Stars
A Rogue One prequel, A Rogue One sequel, and a Rogue One Everybody Lives AU all rolled into one! Feelings, smut, Alderaan refugees, and a ton of angsty, poly romance. It even intersects with canon! Sometimes. Occasionally.
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Cassian Andor X Jyn Erso X Bodhi Rook X Female OC, and various combinations therein
We’re officially in the countdown to Yavin IV! Only a few more chapters left in part one.
Headers by the magnificent @mousedetective.
Read the whole thing here!
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candyfloss5000 · 4 months
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Does anyone else make private tiktok videos about their ocs cuz youre too scared that people you know will see them and make fun of them??? Just me??? Okay😭
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Me reading terrible fic on ao3, because I'm desperate for a certain man and I have nothing else left: I'm a survivor. I'm a warrior. I can do this.
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sankta-starkova · 1 year
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BURN IT DOWN
004; WELCOME BACK
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previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist
summary: the one where harlow kaz goes into a new mission with her best friend to help the rebellion but ends up meeting a man who changes her life completely
worcount: 1.3k
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As they walked towards the camp, Harlow could tell that he was nervous as any human would be walking into a situation like
"Don't worry Cassian, I've got this under control," she said, shaking her head, not looking at him, "I mean Clem,"
When they got close, everyone started to crowd around as they wondered who was walking into camp with Harlow.
"Gather up, we need to talk," Vel said and he recognised her as the girl from earlier.
He looked around at the group and listened to Vel as she introduced him, "This is Clem, I mentioned him earlier and luckily Harlow just arrived with him,"
Everybody that surrounded him seemed nervous and suspicious of Cassian and they had every right to be.
"He'll give us critical redundancy in all areas," Vel said before turning to the group, "That's Skeen, this is Taramyn, Nemik and Cinta,"
"Can I speak with you," Taramyn said, his voice clearly angry and she could tell he was mad at both Vel and Harlow.
"Lets get Clem settled in, Cinta, Harlow, can you two go help him out," she said and the two nodded, Cinta looking at her older sister suspiciously.
"Welcome Clem, we appreciate all the help we can get," Nemik said, a smile on his face.
He knew that of Harlow was trusting this guy then he could as well. They had been best friend since they met at school and he had shared his political manifesto with her.
Cinta led Cassian to the hut closest to them and Harlow told him to sit down, watching as her sister grabbed some stuff from a medpack.
"Am I going to get you to take your shirt off now?" She joked, grabbing two canteens of water, one for each of them, from the side. 
"You're funny," he said, trying to keep a neutral face but a smile peeking out from it.
He looked down at her as she knelt down on the floor, "Okay, let me just-" Hatlow said, rolling up his sleeve and taking the bandage off, wincing when she saw the burn again.
"It doesn't hurt that much, really," he promised, looking into her eyes, a slight smile on his face, "And you did a good job bandaging it the first time,"
There was this sort of charm to cassian that she had never seen before and it made her smile, made her look at him in a different way than she'd ever looked at a man before but she ignored it, pretending it was just that she admired him.
She shook her head, pulling the bandage completely off and grabbing a new strip that they had, the old wound had bled through the last bandage and she didn't believe that it didn't hurt that much.
"Cin, can you grab me a bit booster when you're done over there?" She asked.
"That's a nasty burn, remember we need to save our pain meds 'Low," Cinta said before walking to the other side of the hut to grab the pain medication.
He looked over at her and saw that they looked similar, same dark hair, same subtle smile, same mischievous gleam in their eyes.
"That's your sister," He stated and she nodded, looking over at Cinta. She grabbed the syringe, filling it up slightly with some bacta serum before handing it to her sister.
"This is better than the shit last time," she said, "It's going to heal it faster, and it's going to hurt,"
She placed the needle onto his forearm and he looked away, flinching slightly when she pressed the button as it injected him with the small amount of bacta serum.
Cassian shook it off, looking at Harlow and then at her sister. She followed his eyeline and watched as her sister cleaned everything up.
"Yeah, she's barely twenty years old and look at her, running around and getting this all ready," she said, a smile on her face.
She cared about her sister more than anything and had always sworn to protect her so going on this mission meant she couldn't guarantee her safety. 
"And Nemik?" Cassian questioned, having seen the way the two looked at each other the second they got into camp.
"My best friend," She said, smiling, "Skeen and I get along okay and Taramyn will warm up to you eventually,"
She walked over to her sister, looking back to check on Cassian. When she looked back at Cinta, the girl was smiling.
"You're very friendly with the new guy," she said teasingly, watching as her sisters face heated up.
"I got him out of a situation, but that doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head.
Harlow shook her head, looking back at Cassian before turning to her sister and watching the smile grow on her face.
"Really, cause to me it seemed like you couldn't wait for him to take his shirt off," Cinta said jokingly, a smirk on her face.
She was teasing her because she had never seen her sister act like that around a guy before and there was a high chance they were going to die soon so she wanted to figure it out.
Harlow pushed her arm, shaking her head, "Go to hell," She said before she heard someone yelling.
"You go, I'll look after your guy," Cinta said with a smirk.
Harlow walked off, flipping her sister off as she tried to stop the fighting. When she got out of the hut she saw Nemik who reassured her that everything was okay, it was just about Clem.
"There's nothing wrong with Clem, we can trust him," Harlow said, sitting down next to her friend.
They had been best friends since they were teenagers having gone to the same school in coruscant and the same university, that was where they had decided to change the world and not be like the stuffy politicians that surrounded them.
"I know, he seems to have good intentions," Nemik said, narrowing his eyes at her, "How do you really know him?"
"I saved his arse and that's all that matters," she said, taking a bite from the bread that Nemik handed her.
He knew that she was lying and that there was something else going on but let it go, knowing that she'd explain it in  her own time
"He's nice," he stated, looking over at her, he wanted to see his friends reaction.
"Yeah, bit of an arrogant prick though," she said, laughing at her own comment.
"Yeah, looks like it, but he seems like he is dedicated to this cause," Nemik said.
She shrugged her shoulders, "I'm not sure about that Karis, but I know he's going to be able to help this mission," she suggests.
He was about to respond to her comment and scold her for saying his first name when they heard footsteps in the forest.
They both froze and turned to the forest when they heard a yell. That's when they saw Gorn walking towards them.
"Clem, come on out," Vel called and he stepped out of the hut.
He looked over at Harlow for reassurance and she nodded. Cassian walked closer to the man, eyeing him when he noticed the imperial uniform
"This is Lieutenant Gorn, he's our contact at the garrison," Vel explained.
Gorn was clearly angry at the plan and looked over at Vel, "We need to talk about this," he said, eyes narrowed at the man.
"Here's here and that's all that matters," Vel said, the message being loud and clear to the whole group.
Harlow nodded her head. She trusted Luthen with her life and if he believed that Cassian was vital to this mission, then he was 
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cassianandorswife · 1 year
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Since I don't think anyone will be interested in a link from Quotev for a Cassian Andor fanfiction I would like to give you all a snippet of it lol
""I know, Luna." He hesitated for a moment, not knowing whether he should really take it to the next level. It was hardly the time or the place-- in an Imperial transport, evading the sight of the Empire right after they had lost all of their friends. One could even dare to call them family.
What was he doing?
Captain Andor was intelligent. Skilled, in many ways, strategic and efficient. Yet when it came to the matters of his heart, he could not speak. Cassian wasn't new to love-- he'd done so before, the foolish thrill of flirting around and drowning himself in the fake passions. But he'd changed, and suddenly feelings were something he couldn't speak about. They'd agreed, they'd agreed to not give in to their feelings. But he gulped, staring straight forward, then glancing back to Luna-- just to find her gaze already was on him. She lowered her eyes, hand slipping out of his.All his willpower couldn't stop him. "No. Look at me." He tilted her head up til she was staring into his eyes, her face surprised, shocked and there, there was the hint of hope he was looking for. Hidden in the depths, hidden with the memories of stars and the dulled and grayed shine of the light.It felt like the oxygen in the room had vanished, her pulse soaring. It was the most he had ever showed her regarding his feelings, but it was enough to make her heart both swell and break at the same time, knowing she couldn't. The code. The Rebellion. They couldn't do it. Yet still, he leaned in closer and she sighed, feeling his breath against the curve of her neck, close enough to touch her lips but holding back, though she didn’t know if that was for his sake or for her own. His nose skimmed across her jaw and cheek, his mouth pausing to hover mere centimeters from hers.Cassian caressed her cheek, moving in gently, stopping before their foreheads touched. He heard Luna's breath hitch in her chest once again, and he smiled. That time on Luna's first mission. He failed to show it, but he began to feel something for her that night, quickly brushed away with all the rest of his feelings. A simple, small crush was what he'd said it was to himself-- he could'vd controlled it, right? Yet it kept nagging at him, til it brought them to where they were now. He was afraid, and he wondered if she was too. "Cassian," she tenderly breathed out his name. He could almost hear the subtle trembling in her voice, and the way her heart fluttered. But she frowned. "We can't. You know we can't.""And who says?"She remained silent, and the train of thought in his mind crashed, and an overwhelming need stopped and grew in his heart-- or maybe it was time that stopped as his lips finally met hers. The kiss was fiery yet innocent, almost desperate in the most delicate of ways. His lips were chapped, but Luna's heart pounded in her chest, seeming to suddenly skip a beat. All she could feel, all she could focus on was his warmth, and how soft he really was as he moved against her with passion. People had always said that she'd feel butterflies in her stomach, but this felt like fireworks. Had she only dreamed this moment? Were they dead? It seemed to float away-- but the raw emotion in the way his fingers firmly curled against hers-- No, it couldn't be dreamt of. Cassian poured all of his pain, all his love, everything he'd always kept behind his thoughts into this moment. It felt refreshing-- a wave washing over and casting the light upon him. The feeling of relief as he kissed her under the clearing darkness.Reluctantly, they pulled away breathless, eyes sparkling in their own light as they leaned against each other. The transport suddenly seemed brighter. There were no more words needed to say. They both knew that they loved each other, to the deepest meaning of the word."
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iamdesibell · 1 year
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I need fanfic recommendations
Ok, I don't know if anyone will be able to help here, see this, or bother, but I really need help!
I'm obsessed with one fanfic, I found it on AO3 and it's kind of old and not finished which I'm absolutely gutted about but it's brilliant, it's so unique and I want more of something like it! Here's the fic:
It's a Cassian Andor x OC fic and it's a REAL slow-burn and there's incredible world-building and character-building and it's sooo well written and I'm addicted! I can't find it on here but if the author sees this - YOU ARE AN INCREDIBLE WRITER AND I LOVE YOUR WORK!!!
So please, if anyone sees this and can recommend anything close to such a fanfic I'll be so grateful! It would be great if it's Cassian Andor x OC or anything Cassian or anything Din Djarin...
And please no fluffy stuff like "he was her crush" or "she wanted to have his babies" or stuff like that I really need REALISTIC stuff haha
Thank you in advance to anyone who's willing to help :)
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