#cassian andor x oc

[thescarletfang]

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.

#cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x you #cassian andor fluff #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one #cassian andor x reader

[sporadically-writing]

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.

#sevrina scripps #in honor of my rewatch of rogue one today #star wars oc #star wars x reader #star wars x oc #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x oc #rogue one oc #andor oc #andor x oc #andor x reader #incorrect oc quotes #my oc stuff

[artemiseamoon]

Do you trust me?

Cassian Andor x ofc

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

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

More Rogue One (don’t have an Andor list yet)

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A03: artemiseamoon

#cassian andor #cassian andor x oc #andor fanfiction #whumpril 2023 #last one of the day #time to unplug now

[sankta-starkova]

BURN IT DOWN

030; EPILOGUE

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.

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.

#burn it down; cassian andor #cassian andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor fic #cassian andor x fem!oc #cassian andor x kaz!oc #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x reader #diego luna #star wars #cassian andor fluff #cassian andor fanfic

[cassianandorswife]

I'm Home Now | Cassian Andor

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."

#star wars #angst with a happy ending #sorta #cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #rogue one #captain cassian andor #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x you #andor series #star wars andor #andor spoilers #im crying #this was torture to write

[ladyxskywalker]

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.

#cassian andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x oc #rogue one #rogue one fanfiction #pxk fic recs 💫

[annisthree]

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).

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.'

#cassian andor x original female character #cassian andor #andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x oc #star wars fanfiction #rogue one a star wars story #rogue one fanfiction

[ser-rctslcyer]

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)

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.

#cassian andor fic #cassian andor fanfic #cassian andor fluff #star wars fic #cassian andor x transmasc!reader #star wars x transmasc!reader #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x transmasc!oc #rct fic

[sith-as-heck]

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.”

#Help I love them #Ship: Casszena #OC: Azena Zok #cassian andor #cassian andor x oc

[candyfloss5000]

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😭

#Star wars #Star wars oc #OC #orignal character #Doctor who OC #Sarah jane adventures #Doctor who #Anakin Skywalker x reader #Obi wan Kenobi x reader #Tenth Doctor x reader #Fourteenth Doctor x reader #Eleventh Doctor x reader #Cassian andor x reader #The doctor #Ninth Doctor x reader #Twelfth Doctor x reader #Thirteenth Doctor x reader

[so-far-frogs-and-oscar]

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.

#it was disgusting for 50% of time but i tried for the rest #fanfics #fanfiction #x reader #x oc #loki #lee scoresby #matt Murdock #remus lupin #severus snape #din djarin #helmut zemo #cassian andor #kylo ren #marvel #doctor who #jaime lannister #bucky barnes #steve rogers #steven grant #tony stark #bruce banner #jack russell #killian jones #rumplestiltskin #thor #morpheus #sandman #dream of the endless #jack the lamplighter

[sankta-starkova]

BURN IT DOWN

004; WELCOME BACK

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

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 

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x kaz!oc #cassian andor x fem!oc #burn it down; cassian andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor fic #cassian andor fanfic #star wars cassian #cassian andor fluff #cassian andor angst #cassian andor #andor series #star wars andor #andor fanfiction #andor #star wars series #star wars angst #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars #diego luna

[cassianandorswife]

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."

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #andor series #im in love #hes my husband #i need motivation #so please help me #Did i say i love him so much #fanfiction #quotev #star wars #star wars fanfiction #cassian andor #rogue one #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one x reader #cassian andor x oc #cassian andor x female reader

[taska-rokanh]

Masterlist

Hello! This blog is named after the main character of my Star Wars fanfiction, Shattered Stars, but I have plenty more to offer. I am a die-hard science fiction fan, so I'll be sticking around! Asks and requests are open if you happen to like my work.

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#masterlist #drabble #one shot #oc x oc ship #obi wan kenobi x reader #platonic obi wan #tcw #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #clone trooper oc #jedi oc #the clone wars #clone oc #jedi #sw oc #gender neutral fanfic #star wars #original work #long sw fic #cassian andor x reader

[annisthree]

Chapter XI: We stand together

previous chapter // series masterlist

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Word Count: ~7k

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Explicit language, canon typical violence, hurt/comfort, alcohol use

Chapter summary: Back at the base, Marla is recovering after being held prisoner, and a new chapter in the Rebellion's history is about to begin.

A/N: This is it. I can't believe it.

If you had told me half a year ago that I would be back to writing after more than ten years, I would have never believed it. It's been such a fantastic journey, and I'm so happy to be doing this again.

Once again, thank you all for the amazing, AMAZING support. I was honestly surprised that anyone even read it, but seeing the continuous outpour of kind words was insane. I mean it.

Now, for the future: there's definitely another part coming, but I need a bit of a break to figure out the details. And maybe write a short drabble or two before I jump into something longer again. I'm guessing I should be back with the second part sometime in January, but it's hard to say.

Again: I LOVE YOU all. Writing this has brought me so much joy; it's surreal.

(Oh, and remember when I said that the last chapter was the longest one? Well, seems like I lied.)

Cross-posted on AO3 (same username).

'Captain Andor. Your presence has been urgently requested in the med bay.'

Cassian rubbed his eyes ,  looking at the medical droid that had woken him up in the middle of the night. The intensity of the last mission was still weighing on him, and he was hoping to finally get some sleep in his warm, comfortable bed on the base. 

Clearly, today was not the day.

'Why?' he practically moaned, deciding he didn't have to uphold his highest professional standards for a medical droid. To accentuate this decision, he let out a long, dramatic yawn.

'It's Lieutenant Reid. She's-'

Cassian felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of cold water on his head.  Of course it's about Marla, idiot. Why else would you be needed in the med bay? And if they're requesting your presence, does that mean that something is-

'Is she all right?' 

'Oh,  she is  all right. Visibly regaining her strength. The problem isn't  her  well-being; it's the well-being of our medical personnel. Sir.'

Cassian was amazed at how quickly he was circulating through different emotions, 'Could you... could you elaborate?'

'You might be aware of the doctor's recommendation to have her receive IV therapy to aid the loss of electrolytes stemming from dehydration. Well, it wasn't a problem when she was under anaesthesia, but as soon as she woke up, she began... protesting . Quite emphatically. She is currently refusing to be subjected to further treatment, and her refusal is manifested in a rather forceful way. I was sent to find a mediator.'

The droid has finished the report and tilted its mechanical head to the left, awaiting further orders. Only now did Cassian realise that the droid was in somewhat worse shape than it was standard. Sure, most of their droids had some sort of issues, most were patched up with different scratch parts, but this one looked... beaten up. For starters, one of its arms was detached and held in the droid's only remaining hand. There also seemed to be a noticeable dent in its core area. 

Cassian rolled his eyes, returning to his default state of tiredness.

'Why me?'

'I have already spoken with the rest of your crew, captain, but they all said you are the only person capable of negotiating with the lieutenant. Sir.'

Somehow, he really doubted that. Still, he was her superior (a fact he should probably remember more often, he noted), so he was responsible for keeping her in check. Or at least attempting to do so.

'Great. Lead the way.'

The droid emitted a series of beeps, then whirled around in place and began energetically stomping forward, occasionally waving its detached arm in the air.

There were so many women on the base, Cassian's sleepy subconsciousness noted. So many beautiful, smart,  emotionally stable  women. 

Why did he always get himself into such a mess?

*

The corridors of the ancient Massasi temple were almost empty at that hour, apart from a couple of pilots spilling out of the hangar bay and towards the sleeping quarters at regular intervals. Overall, however, the base had gained some improvements over those couple of weeks when they were gone - the electricity had clearly been extended everywhere, which meant they finally didn't have to rely on their glowsticks not to end up flattened against a stone wall. There was also a faint hint of music somewhere far away - was it the hangar bay or the mess hall?

As they walked towards the med bay, Cassian realised the reappearance of that familiar nervous energy humming through his body. He hadn't seen Marla since they arrived on base - she was immediately snatched by a team of medics, together with the rest of the prisoners, and transported to the med bay. He went in to check on her right after the mission debrief, but he was informed that they administered more anaesthetics and declared they would keep her asleep for a couple of days to help her regenerate. It also made it easier to take care of her multiple bone fractures and all the smaller injuries that required attention.

He would never admit it, but he was relieved to have a couple of days for himself. Not that he was tired of Marla; far from it, he was, in fact, still very much affected by her imprisonment, and he would be lying if he said he didn't miss her presence. There were many moments when he walked right up the med bay door, only to turn around with resignation at the last moment.

It was just... easier this way. They still never addressed what happened that night before the attack, and then the only other interaction he had with her was right after her rescue - and talking about their feelings wasn't exactly very high on their agenda at that moment,

But sooner or later, they would have to talk about it and agree on some sort of strategy. And for the first time in his military career, Cassian had no idea what  strategy  would work best.

*

The past couple of days had been a blur. Marla remembered a bit from their journey back to the base - the memory of the rescue itself had been a bit hazy, but then she remembered waking up in her quarters on the ship. Luckily, someone had left a night light on - whether that was a deliberate attempt to make her feel safer or not, it definitely helped her immediately recognise where she was. Or, more specifically, where she wasn't. And that alone made her feel a thousand times better, even if she was still hurting in every possible manner.

Her first instinct then had been to go to the cockpit. She had to pass a number of heavily wounded people on her way and had to try very hard not to look at that one man who was having his malfunctioning cybernetic prosthetic re-amputated - but once she made it, she could finally let out a breath of relief. She was home. She knew it because she was on her ship, because she could see the stars outside of the viewport, and because Cassian was there.

She must have fallen asleep in the pilot chair because the next thing she remembered was getting out of the ship, supported by someone she didn't recognise. As soon as they landed, they got swarmed by medics, nurses, and people who had nothing to do with medicine but were recruited to help. Someone was coordinating the efforts - they must have made a list of the most injured on their way back because it was surprisingly organised. At one point, someone approached her with a stretcher, but she just let out a short laugh and began limping her way inside the base.

Cassian caught up with her in no time; of course he did. And just as sure as the sound of his footsteps and his arm reaching out to support her, she felt the familiar warmth spreading over her entire body, in a way that was both beautiful and terrifying.

But she didn't dare say anything, and neither did he, and once they got to the med bay, there were so many people bustling about, so many med droids pushing her towards an empty bed, so many sounds and people and eyes, and soon enough he slipped away and disappeared. Moments later, she felt a dull stab of a needle in her forearm, and before she could react (somehow, she wasn't thrilled about needles, not after her last encounter with them), she fell asleep on the squeaky hospital bed.

The next few days were swathed in a thick fog of blurry awakenings and immediate returns to sleep. She would only regain consciousness for long enough to open her eyes and get a very vague understanding of where she was and why, before a med droid would roll over in her direction, fiddle with something above her head, and suddenly she would be out again.

And that suited her very well, because as soon as she realised she was in a med bay, as soon as she saw the medical equipment, and the hospital beds, and the people in white scrubs that looked too much like lab coats - there was always a cold wave of irrational panic creeping in from the back of her head. The place looked nothing like the lab in that Imperial research facility - it was too busy, too colourful, and too  warm . Still, she couldn't help but check for restraints every time she woke up.

The one time she stayed awake for a bit longer, she had just begun registering her surroundings again when a med droid appeared out of nowhere and unceremoniously grabbed her forearm, clearly attempting to hook her up to some sort of an IV. Still hazy from the days spent under anaesthesia, she jumped up and unthinkingly pushed the droid away. A bit too forcefully, perhaps, seeing how the surprised helper ended up crashing into the next bed with a loud thump.

'Lieutenant Reid. Good to see you're awake. You seem to be doing much better, but we're gonna need to keep you with us for just a couple more days to help you regain all the strength.'

The person talking turned out to be a young man with a calm, almost apologetic smile and a datapad in one hand.

'I'm feeling fine. I don't need to stay here. And I definitely don't need whatever this little fella was trying to give me.'

'The med droid,' the man started, eyeing the battered droid that was still knocked down a couple of metres from Marla's bed, 'is going to administer the IV fluids. They will help you feel...'

'Like hell he is,' she protested loudly, sitting up on her bed and gathering the strength to stand up. The sudden change of position made her see stars for a moment, but she was determined not to let it show.

'Lieutenant, I'm gonna have to ask you to lay down. I promise this will help.'

Marla snorted cynically, sending the man a hateful look. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and began standing up.

'Lieutenant-' the man reached out a hand in her direction, and that was definitely his mistake. Grabbing the first thing she spotted, which happened to be a durasteel IV stand, Marla moved to a defensive position.

'I don't think so,' she seethed. It crossed her mind how ridiculous she must have looked, still in her dirty and ripped clothes, with bacta patches around her hand and ribs, swinging an IV stand with manic desperation in her eyes. Still, she was not going to let them get near her. She was fine, for fuck's sake.

The doctor looked tired as he took a step back.

'Look, if I were to fight every patient who thinks they know better, I would be doing nothing else all day. You are free to do whatever you want, but I must inform you it is my duty to report any incidents to the command.'

'Great. I'm sure they will be delighted to see my name again. Thanks for the heads up, buddy.'

She lowered the metal rod and started towards the exit, only to have her way barred at the last moment.

'Cassian. Hi.'

'Lieutenant Reid. I was asked to escort you back to your hospital bed.'

If she was happy to see him for a split second, all of that evaporated immediately at the sound of his words.

'Well, I'm sorry you have been troubled for nothing. I'm fine, and I'm leaving. Now, if you excuse me...'

She took a step forward and almost bumped into his chest. He was clearly not moving anywhere.

'Don't think for a second that I wouldn't fight you,  captain .'

She was staring him down with all the defiance and intensity her tired body could muster. They were silent for a while, each waiting for the other one to stand down.

Finally, Cassian sighed and looked over her shoulder towards the doctor.

'Doctor. What's her status?'

'I told you I'm-'

'She is recovering quickly, but she needs to keep resting for another couple of days. I have also prescribed a set of tonics to combat the side effects of dehydration.'

'Noted. Can this be administered in her quarters?'

The doctor paused for a moment, visibly undecided.

'I mean- technically. But she would need to stay in bed-'

'For fuck's sake, I'm right here.'

'Got it,' Cassian was visibly set on ignoring her input. 'I'll have her set up in her quarters. You can send over one of the droids in ten minutes. I'll see to it that she receives her treatment.'

'You will do no such-'

'Do you want to stay here?' he retorted with irritation evident in his voice, finally acknowledging her existence. She rolled her eyes but stayed silent. 'Good. Let's go.'

Cassian was visibly tired and even more visibly annoyed, but there was a hint of gentleness in his touch as he grabbed her by the arm to support her. Marla wanted to be mad, she wanted to tell him off for trying to order her around, but the mixture of exhaustion and a slight surprise at the contact with his warm hand subdued her frustration just enough to have her keep her mouth shut for the rest of the way.

'I think I liked you more when you were unconscious,' Cassian murmured gravely, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly when she looked at him. Marla realised she hadn't seen him smile in a longest time.

Fine, she would take that stupid IV.

*

Quite soon, Marla realised that she liked herself more when she was unconscious, too. It prevented her from thinking about all those things that were suddenly much scarier than all of the Empire combined.

She had been happy to see Cassian in that Imperial facility, his face being the first real thing to have emerged out of the cold and damp darkness in days. She had been happy to see him in the cockpit of their ship on the way back to the base, him and his tired, concerned face that was stained with someone's blood. And she had been happy (although she would never admit it) to see him in the med bay, where his presence once again reassured her that she was  home , and those constantly beeping monitors and needles and scalpels were there to  help  people, not to experiment on them.

She was happy to see him, she really was, but that happiness was tainted with the memory of how his skin had felt under her fingertips and the petrifying adoration in his eyes that was both the most treasured accolade and a fatal curse, or a poison, one that would slowly weaken them both over time.

But how does one turn their eyes on an exploding star, when all the colours dance their final dance, when the destruction of something so beautiful and life-affirming evokes this unstoppable fascination and yearning, yearning to become part of the luminous spectacle, even if getting closer means your ship burns and melts and joins the grim cluster of cosmic debris.

And so she gave in and told herself - yet again - she would be able to pull up at the last minute, she would avoid being trapped in the gravitational field, she would just look a little bit longer.

Cassian walked her back to her room and helped her take off the bacta patches she had around her ribs - keeping all the professional distance a captain should. It was funny to see him like this, so careful not to let his fingers linger for too long on her skin, so intent on being as mechanical and impersonal as possible. As if he hadn't already seen all of her, both physically and emotionally.

He waited patiently as she took a shower, her first one in a week. Marla knew he must have noticed how the door to her refresher had been left slightly ajar, just enough to let the steam out, but apparently not enough for him to read it as an invitation. Or maybe he did, but decided now was the time to begin acting all gentlemanly.

Or maybe he was no longer interested, now that her body was covered in fresh scars and his hands had already claimed every square centimetre of her skin. What was there left to explore, what was there to want, when he had already taken everything she could give him and more?

He was still waiting in her room when she finished the shower, and looked as casual as one could when she circled around the room in an oversized t-shirt that was drowning her in a way that couldn't possibly have been doing her body any favour.

After a while, she located a hairbrush and began combing through her dripping wet hair.

'How long exactly are you planning to act as my security guard? You must have realised by now that you can just rig the door panel if you really want to make sure I don't escape.'

'Crossed my mind,' he said flatly, watching her struggle to braid her hair with one good hand. 'May I?'

Marla had no idea what invisible force was looking over her that day, but somehow she managed not to drop the hairbrush at the last moment. And not to suffocate from forgetting how to breathe.

The way he had said it made it sound like the most natural thing in the world, so logical - she was injured, doing one's hair with one hand was challenging, he had two good hands ( and a very skilful set of fingers)  - of course, it was only natural to offer help. She was sure she would have done the same for anyone else, for Aevie, for that Mandalorian girl who supposedly helped get her out of prison, even for Salvatore, if there had been anything left on his head to braid.

And yet she was absolutely dissolving at the sound of these words, the same ones she'd heard before; only then they had been an interlude to something she would be wise not to think about at that moment.

Somehow though, he looked as casual as one could. Stupid spy with his stupid poker face.

'Yeah. Thanks. They said I'm gonna need to wear the cast for a couple more days,' she mumbled somewhat apologetically.

He crossed the room to reach her, and suddenly it felt like the cruellest déjà vu. He was carefully running his fingers through her wet hair, and she was staring right into the core of a burning sun, praying for a quick and painless death.

The closeness, the gentle touch, the barely registerable huff of his breath on her shoulder - it was so much, almost too much, but it also felt so good. She shut her eyes tightly as he continued down the length of her hair, trying to focus on anything else than the opportunity she had within her grasp. Seconds turned into minutes, and she wasn't sure anymore when was the last time she breathed.

'Hey,' he said quietly, placing one hand on her shoulder, and she realised he had finished quite a while ago, and she was still there, struggling to breathe and tense to the limits. 'You know you're safe here, right?'

How could he even... Why? Is it because she was so tense? Did he think she was afraid-

And just like that, all the repressed pain, uncertainty and fear that she tried so hard not to let in when she was in that cell by herself - all of that somehow came back in that moment, triggered by the softness and concern behind that one question. He didn't deserve to think he was anything less than the only thing that kept her sane through those long, scary nights when her only companions were the screams of tortured prisoners and a throbbing pain in her skull. He must know the only way she had survived was by detaching herself from everything that was happening, and taking her mind to the one place where they wouldn't ever find her: in her imagination, she was on her ship, sitting in the pilot seat, and staring in the stars outside of the viewport, and Cassian was always there with her, sitting right next to her, and he was telling her she would be all right over and over again until his voice in her head drowned out even the loudest of screams.

He deserved to know these things. But then, how do you tell someone all that and not make it sound like a promise? She couldn't afford to make any promises, just as he couldn't afford to accept any. They were at war, and the Rebellion always had to come first. They had no right no make any promises. Hell, they had no right to have any other feelings apart from those directed at the Empire and the Rebellion.

She wanted nothing else than to tell him how much it meant to be around him, to have him care for her, to have that one treasured memory of how his lips felt on hers.

But she also wanted to do the  right thing , and so she did the exact opposite of what her body was telling her to do and took a large step forward to build some distance between them. When she then turned around to face him, she could see the concern in his eyes, and she hated herself for the cold and casual tone she somehow managed to muster.

'Yeah. I know.'

There was no way in hell he believed that, and he was now probably more worried than ever. He seemed to think that she was afraid of him, that it was somehow his fault, and she wanted to grab her blaster and shoot her stupid useless heart for not letting her tell him how wrong he got it.

Of all the things she wanted to tell him, none sounded good enough - or safe enough. 

So instead, she gritted her teeth and sent him a fake smile.

'I should be going,' he muttered flatly after a moment. 'The med droid will be here any minute. Just stay in bed for as long as they tell you, okay?'

His voice was seemingly emotionless, but there was an undertone of defeat, and she wanted to yell at him, tell him that he was the only source of warmth in her frozen body - but the door was already closing behind him, and all she could do was do bite down on her lip and try not to scream.

*

She had planned to follow the doctor's orders; she really had. But then she spent two days without leaving her room, having only a med droid (who checked on her several times a day and sometimes delivered new tonics or bacta patches) as a thought partner, because after their last meeting Cassian had decided to make himself scarce. She didn't blame him; in fact, as painful as it was, she also knew it was necessary and needed to help them recover from that brief moment of blindness, of madness, of selfishness, or whatever the fuck that was.

Still, sitting there by herself inevitably led her to  thinking , and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

So, she did the only thing she could think of, something as pathetically  Marla  as possible - she sneaked out and went to check on that makeshift cantina they had put together with the rest of the crew before leaving for Scen.

The last time she was there, it was just their crew and a bunch of crates with alcohol they had  borrowed  from an Imperial restaurant on one of their previous runs. Entering the place again, she didn't expect to see it bustling with activity. There were at least twenty people inside, they had constructed something that resembled an actual bar counter, and someone even spray-painted the Rebel sign and the words "The Drunken Bantha" on the wall.

'Marla!' she heard a friendly voice, and soon she spotted a familiar face sending her a warm smile, 'Wait, aren't you supposed to be on bedrest?' Zafe asked, his loud and cheerful voice clearly indicating he'd already had a couple of drinks.

'Maybe,' she gave him a wide grin and sat by the table. Someone handed her a bottle of something unidentified and pungent. 'Not much of a secret hideout anymore, huh?'

'Yeah, turns out trying to keep a secret on a base filled with thieves and scoundrels isn't really that easy. Especially if that secret involves alcohol. This is nothing, though - you should have seen this place yesterday when everyone was still here...'

'Sounds like I'm missing out on some action. Whose ass are we kicking this time?'

'Not really,' Zafe made a face. 'It's some sort of a show of force. Someone's making some important speech on the holo net, and we were asked to send ships to show our support. Supposedly, we're an  Alliance   now.'

'Alliance, huh?'

'Yeah. Apparently, we weren't the only ones who managed to successfully enlist a bunch of local rebels. Everyone's been busy negotiating and agreeing on things and, well,  allying . You've met the Phoenix squadron - that's just a part of it; we will now be becoming a central hub for all Rebel activity. All sorts of important people coming to our little moon.'

'Well, that's what we wanted. If it means we can finally do some actual fighting instead of sneaking around, then I'll drink to that.'

They took a moment to clink their bottles, Zafe leaning back in his chair ( where the hell did they get chairs? ).

'Don't get me wrong, I'm all for having the numbers. It's just... I'd prefer these numbers not stationed in my formerly single quarters. You know, I've already grown used to not waking up to someone's snoring.'

'Wait. They are bunking us up again?'

'Oh, right, you wouldn't have heard. That's probably because a certain captain has fought the command to let you keep a single room until you are no longer on bedrest. But there's already a bunk waiting for you,  riiiight  above mine,' he winked, grinning widely.

Marla tried her best not to think about Cassian defending her single room in front of the command, but it was too late, and the redness had already crept onto her cheeks. Luckily, no one seemed to have been paying attention to her. Besides, she could easily justify the blushing with the alcohol.

Plus, she was sure Cassian would have done it for anyone. Nothing special.

'Why is it that I always end up bunked up with you, sergeant Caius? Have I not suffered enough?'

'Hey, you should be thanking me. You could have ended up with a bunch of strangers.'

'Maker,' she sighed dramatically, 'is there any way I can sign up to be moved back to that Imperial prison? At least they gave me a single cell...'

'Sorry, Lieutenant. Strangely enough, it kinda exploded after we had left,' he said with a proud grin, and Marla couldn't help but return the smile. She was teasing him, but in all reality, it actually wasn't that terrible of a solution. She had spent so many years sharing her quarters with other people, she could probably tolerate it a while longer.

'Okay. Who else is in our lucky bunch?'

'Aevie and Sal are on the other side of the room; there are also a couple of random folks from that group from Scen, don't really know them. But I guess we  will  get to know them, very intimately and very soon.' Zafe delivered with a smirk.

Marla groaned loudly, but then her brain registered one name missing from that list. Zafe was quick to read her. 'The command still has single rooms. Anyone with the rank of a captain and above, to be specific,' He winked at her knowingly.

'No way. No. Fucking. Way. Not fair,' In reality, she was praising the Maker. The last thing she needed was bumping into half-naked Cassian on her way to the bed. Or better yet, bumping into  someone  rolling out of Cassian's bunk in the morning.

Stars.

Yes, she could take roommates, as long as Cassian wasn't one of them.

*

Marla spent some time catching up with Zafe, but eventually, he stood up and stumbled drunkenly towards the exit, advising her to do the same. And, indeed, every muscle in her body was telling her she should do just that - she was feeling much better than days ago, but she was still weakened, and the alcohol definitely didn't help with regaining strength.

But it was so nice to finally not be confined to four naked walls, to see people, hear them chatter and laugh. And as much as her body would probably benefit from staying in bed, her soul was devouring all the stimuli around her and healing with every second of her being around others.

So she let her legs carry her forward, through the dimly lit corridors, towards the hangar bay, where the familiar smell of jet fuel tingled her nostrils.

She could indeed see more ships than when they had left for Scen, and if Zafe's account was correct, there were even more, currently cruising through hyperspace to show up in support of the new Rebel Alliance. She was rather happy no one had asked her to be part of that mission - she was never particularly good with grand speeches and theatrical gestures. But then again, she imagined the view of hundreds of ships frozen motionlessly in space must have been quite a sight. An unsung song of hope. An alliance, at last.

She took a long swig from her bottle and started towards the outer landing pad. She was painfully aware of how slowly she was walking and how unsteady her steps were, but it felt too good to give up.

As soon as she was outside and felt the warm air caressing her skin, she realised what a luxury it was not to shiver from cold, not to see your own breath and not to have your fingers freezing off within seconds of stepping outside. Even with all its humidity, Yavin IV always had a calming effect on her. It was so reassuring to see the same stars shining brightly in the sky, casting a delicate, ethereal light over the dense forest and the ancient structures scattered around the area. 

Marla took a moment to appreciate the view, leaning over a supply crate left outside. In her quiet awe, she almost didn't hear the footsteps approaching from the base.

'I wish I could say I was surprised,' Cassian's voice reached her from behind.

She wasn't ready to face him, damn it. Especially not in  these  circumstances, slightly intoxicated and looking at the stars. Way too poetic and cliche. Way too many scenarios in which this could go wrong.

She took another long sip from the bottle and decided not to turn around, instead fixing her gaze somewhere beyond the vastness of the jungle.

'Are you saying I'm boring?' she retorted, trying to hide the slight hint of panic in her voice.

'I wouldn't dare,' he said with a slight chuckle. She loved the lightness in his voice. Somehow, it transported her back to her early days with the Rebellion, when  the cause  and the Empire were her only problems. Seemed like a lifetime ago.

'The speech is about to start. They are gathering in the hangar bay.'

Oh, right, the speech. As much as Marla disliked politics, she had to admit she was rather curious; the whole base seemed to be buzzing with anticipation.

She decided to turn around towards the base - and towards Cassian. The light from Yavin's three other moons spilt over his features, casting a warm glow over his face and making his eyes look almost silver.

Somehow, she felt a bit more woozy again. Damn jet juice. She should have known better than to trust Zafe's choice of drink.

'Yeah, let's go inside,' she said, a bit more weakly than she would have wanted to.

There was that investigative look on his face again that she knew so well, and for a moment, she had the uncomfortable feeling of being dissected into small components. Worst of all, she understood he could read her like a book - she could see him raise one eyebrow and take a breath to say something, but he stopped himself at the very last second.

Marla did her best to put a brave face on, but her body wasn't still fully cooperative. She was slow and dizzy, and she saw Cassian hesitate and bite back yet another remark. He knew how much she hated being pitied, so he didn't say anything, instead accompanying her in silence, adapting his pace to her limping. 

Finally, they made it inside. In the middle of the hangar bay, there was a droid - an old R1 series. At least two dozen people of different ages and races were gathered around, chatting excitedly.

Cassian stopped somewhere at the back - at a distance that would still allow them to see everything but that placed them away from attention. That's what he did best - hiding just out of sight. Getting close, but not close enough.

She saw him stop next to a wall and turn around to wait for her. She hated how pathetically incapable she was at that moment, but he didn't seem to mind - or, at least, was doing a very good job at pretending he didn't. Meanwhile, Marla made a painful realisation that her legs were beginning to have a mind of their own, barely able to sustain her weight anymore - but she was so close, she would lean against the wall soon and rest, just a couple more steps...

Before she could register what was happening, Marla felt Cassian grab her by the arms, and she realised he had caught her at the very last moment, most likely saving her from falling flat on her face. 

Good job, Marla. If he wasn't pitying you before, he surely is now.

As she was trying to get her head to stop spinning, she felt him support her weight, help her with those last couple of steps, and then assist her with sitting down against the wall.

'All right?'

Cassian knew her well enough to know he should hide his concern, but  she knew him well enough  to see through it immediately. And her mind began reflexively defending against that concern - until she looked up and saw his face in front of hers, and suddenly the need to hide behind protective walls evaporated completely.

For the first time since she could remember, she didn't feel the need to prove how tough she was, to prove that she could handle anything bad the world threw at her. It felt strange and new, but also  freeing . Like a restrictive garment you were forced to wear that you could now tear off; like screaming after days of silence; like falling asleep in her own bed after a long battle. It was warm and natural. And she'd only ever felt that way around Cassian.

And he was right there, his warm dark eyes telling her he  knew , he recognised her and her fear, and yet he was still willing to accept all of it, all of  her .

His eyes, Maker, she could drown in them; such a perfect way to die. And they were getting closer, too, and so was the rest of his face as he slowly leaned towards her. And soon enough, she could feel his breath fanning over her face, his lips just centimetres away, hesitantly making their way towards hers, emanating heat and anticipation and-

Suddenly, a loud sound came from the centre of the hangar bay, and they both bolted up in surprise, immediately regaining safe distance and desperately avoiding eye contact. After the longest couple of seconds in her life, Marla saw Cassian move away to her side, sitting down by the wall and fixing his gaze forward, on the blue projection that was now being displayed by the droid.

Right, the speech. Suddenly, Marla couldn't care less - but there it was, anyway.

'This is Senator Mon Mothma.' 

Well, thank you, Senator Mon Mothma, for ruining a perfect moment. 

'I have been called a traitor for speaking out against a corrupt Galactic Senate. A Senate manipulated by the sinister tactics of the Emperor.'

The woman speaking was wearing official senatorial attire, but her voice had the determination and spark Marla has never heard in any other politician. And there was something in her eyes, too - she had the eyes of a leader, but there was also kindness, compassion and a hint of warmth. 

'For too long I have watched the heavy hand of the Empire strangle our liberties, stifling our freedoms in the name of ensuring our safety. No longer!'

Marla couldn't help herself and quickly glanced at Cassian. His eyes were sparking, too, but with a different kind of fire - one that could only burn inside a soul of a man who has seen and done things no high-born Senator would ever even want to imagine.

She felt a sudden need to lift off some of that weight, to offer shelter from the raging fire - but she knew her own scars and burns were running just as deep.

'Despite Imperial threats, despite the Emperor himself, I have no fear as I take new action. For I am not alone. Beginning today, we stand together as allies.'

The Senator's voice was now echoing between the walls, powerful, determined, full of purpose. 

So there it was.  A Rebel Alliance.  They really did it. 

'I hereby resign from the Senate to fight for you, not from the distant hall of politics but from the front lines. We will not rest until we bring an end to the Empire until we restore our Republic!'

A wave of excitement ran through the hangar bay. People began chattering, cheering; some were even clapping. 

'Are you with me?'

It felt like a battle cry. It felt like an explosion, a lightning bolt, a maelstrom; it felt like all the elements at their most powerful combined together. It felt like hope.

The projection ended, but the people gathered in the hangar bay remained in place. Only now, instead of quiet focus, there was an atmosphere of victory. Someone jumped on top of a crate and started singing something in a language Marla didn't recognise; elsewhere, a group of people initiated something that was a weird mixture of a very uncoordinated dance and a very sincere group hug. Everyone else was just talking; dozens of people chattering simultaneously, in different languages - but you didn't need a protocol droid to figure out the general sentiment.

It was good to have a reason to celebrate, at last. Even if just for that one evening.

Marla was a bit more cautious in her enthusiasm, but she would be lying if she said the triumphant atmosphere hadn't rubbed off on her.

Maybe there is some hope for them after all. For the Galaxy, for the Rebellion, for her.

A wave of warmth began spreading through her body, and she suddenly remembered what the speech had interrupted. But for some inexplicable reason, she no longer felt the awkwardness or shame that had been so overwhelming mere minutes ago. She didn't quite know what it was, but something about that experience, about the shared enthusiasm and about Cassian's warm body next to hers - something about all that made her believe in the impossible for just a short moment. And for that moment, she let herself forget about all of her fear.

And so, freshly stripped of everything that had been weighing down on her before, she rested her head on his shoulder. Slowly, hesitantly, but with a determination known only to those who realise how fleeting this kind of clarity can be.

As her temple made contact with Cassian's shoulder, she heard the slightest hitch in his breath, but he immediately relaxed back again. And then, he tilted his own head to rest against hers, and she could swear she felt his lips gently brush over her hair.

Neither dared to move or say anything, afraid to destroy the sacredness of that moment. They sat quietly, away from the joyous cheering and singing, entangled in a small celebration of their own.

And even if it were just an illusion created by a perfect conjunction of unrelated elements, even if tomorrow she would wake up troubled by the same doubts, and a cruel reality check set them apart again - they would always have this moment to cherish, that moment when they felt unstoppable and fearless and  whole  again.

Maker, she felt like she could take the whole Empire on by herself. What chance did a Galaxy full of darkness stand against the light she was now carrying in her chest?

'I really hope this works out,' Cassian's quiet voice rang in her ear, the air vibrating and tickling her forehead.

She didn't know if he was talking about the alliance or… something completely different. But it didn't matter. Or maybe it did, but she didn't have to think about it now.

She didn't need certainty, she needed... this. Precisely as it was at that moment. With his head leaning against hers, a gentle buzz in her head and the promise of a galaxy that could hope again.

#cassian andor x original female character #cassian andor #andor #cassian andor fanfiction #cassian andor x oc #star wars fanfiction #rogue one a star wars story #rogue one fanfiction

[ser-rctslcyer]

The Stars of Your Heart

- After narrowly escaping the empire, Cassian and Kit are left trying to fix up their wounds but emotions are high and feelings are revealed. [part of the seires, The Stars of His Galaxy series]

Just My Love & I

- Cassian and Kit reunite after a long while away and look towards the future. [part of the seires, The Stars of His Galaxy series]

Wanna Join? *Andor Era*

- [kinktober special] Dirty Talk with Cassian

Silver Tongue Devil *Andor Era*

- Meeting a stranger at a bar can lead to many things— like being the getaway driver. Lucky for you, said stranger is a little more than happy to pay for your expenses. 

Lead The Way Captain *Andor Era*

- during a heist, he can’t help but to marvel at you.

Andor Ships:

Cassian/Bix:

Late Morning Laughter

- She had decided this was the morning she was going to ask– and she would bring breakfast to help soften the blow. 

#rct fic #cassian andor imagine #cassian andor fic #star wars imagine #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x oc #star wars fic