#messing with canon

[cassanovablue]

Casanova

Cassian Andor x Reader | Part 1/3

a/n: this is my very first thing i've ever written for cassian AND the first of my writings i've ever uploaded here! shout out to the people who were interested in this - i hope you like it!!

word count: 2.8k

warnings: petty cass (his true self), messing with canon per usual

summary: two of the most stubborn rebels constantly get paired together - what could go wrong?

“Y/N, we need you. I need you.”

“No you don’t,” you replied, eyes fixated on the book in front of you. 

“Y/N-”

“I said no.” You turned around in your chair to face the man before you, giving a glare that made the man wince. 

It wasn’t the first time Luthen had come to you, asking for your assistance in one of his grand schemes. It also wasn’t the first time you had refused him.

It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in the cause, it was more so a general dislike of having to constantly uproot yourself. You liked the home that you had made for yourself on Chandrila and preferred to stay nested within your sanctuary, dealing with the more technological side of things rather than being physically active in it. 

Once you were satisfied that your message had gotten across, you turned back to your work.

Despite the fact that you practically always refused his requests for help, you always caved in the end. Luthen knew it wasn’t because of a weak resolve - you had one of the strongest dispositions out of everyone he knew - but rather an undying devotion to Mon Mothma. He didn’t know the details around the arrangement you two had, but he knew enough to know that she knew something that could put you in danger. He would never pry about it though; he was a foolish man but even he knew better than that.

He sighed behind you as you continued scribbling notes, attempting to decode some Imperial plans that Mon had managed to snag. 

The only sound that filled the study room was the sound of your pencil furiously scratching. The two of you sat in silence for a minute until you couldn’t take it anymore, turning around to meet Luthen’s piercing gaze.

“What is it now?” You dejectedly sighed. He gave you a smirk as he straightened up, happy to have won the silent treatment battle you often found yourselves entangled in.

“You caved quickly this time.”

“Yeah, well I’m tired so hurry up. I promised Leida I’d go on a walk with her later,” you said, leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed, feigning nonchalance. 

“It’s simple this time. I need you to go to Aldhani,” he explained. You rolled your eyes at his vague explanation.

“To do what?” He stayed silent for a beat too long, and he could tell by the way you straightened up that you noticed it. 

“I need you to join a group of rebels to attack the Garrison.” You barked out a laugh.

“Are you crazy? Luthen that’s the most suicidal thing you’ve ever asked of me,” you argued.

“I know that but I’ve already crafted a group of rebels and-”

“Then why do you need me?” You interrupted.

“There’s a new guy on board and I need you to make sure he stays in check,” he carefully explained, knowing that he was treading on thin ice.

“So you need me to be a free babysitter,” you said, getting up from your chair to commence your pacing. This was another part of the routine you two participated in. It was at this stage that he could lose you. It’d happened before, once. And that mission ended terribly, all the rebels who were a part of it perishing.

“He’s getting 200,000 credits out of this,” Luthen gently explained. You paused your pacing and looked him directly in the eyes. 200,000 was a lot of credits, even for Luthen and his schemes. 

“This kid must be the real deal then, huh?” You mumbled, eyes darting across his face for any sign of an explanation. Either this guy was the best damn asset the Rebellion has ever seen or Luthen was convinced he wasn’t making it out alive.

“I don’t know.” You contemplatively hummed. Just the answer you suspected.

“Did you pitch him as a replaceable member to Vel?” You questioned, tossing the man a smirk. You had met Vel Sartha once before briefly in passing, but you knew enough about the Aldhani rebel leader to know that she would be cautious about getting a new guy on this mission.

Luthen let out a half-hearted chuckle. “You know me too well.” You smiled at his admittance. He was a stubborn man; getting him to verbally admit that you were one of the few people who could read him like a book was thrilling.

“What’s his name?” You asked.

“Clem,” Luthen said, his eyes quickly flitting across your desk. You could tell that he was lying and he knew it. He was constantly torn between hating and loving your observance.

“That’s an alias,” you noted. “You’ve given that name before.”

“Well yes, you know I shouldn’t-”

“I don’t care what you should or shouldn’t do, Luthen,” you snapped. “It’s clear that you need me for this to not go entirely south and add more of a death count onto your conscience.” His left eye twitched. It was a low blow on your part, but you were petty and stubborn and wanted to know this guy's name. Besides, if things did go south quickly, the least you could do was tell the guy his real name one last time. 

“What’s his name?”

Luthen let out a defeated sigh.

“Cassian Andor.”

~~~~~

It had been a year since the Aldhani heist, one in which Cassian and yourself had come out unscathed. You hadn’t spoken much after the mission - or during the mission for that matter - but you both knew that your paths would inevitably cross again. You had been intertwined with the rebellion since Mon found you and if Cassian wasn’t interwoven with it before, he certainly was after Aldhani. 

You heard scattered whispers about his whereabouts, but you never gathered enough information to find out where the man truly was or what he was doing. During your time on Aldhani, he proved himself to be an enigma through and through. For someone who claimed to just be in it for the money, he was arguably one of the most passionate people there. You had met your fair share of people who were just in it for the money or who claimed to be passionate, but also just in it for the money. But no one that you had confronted had quite the demeanor that Cassian did.

All you knew was that he was coming to join yourself and the rest of the rebels on Yavin 4 that evening.

Engrossed in your work, you barely noticed the light tap on the door. “Y/N?” The door opened to reveal Mon standing in the doorway.

“What’s up?” You asked, turning your chair away from your beloved work and towards the woman at the door.

“I need all my captains present to welcome the new rebels. There are quite a few this time around, all of who are vital to our cause. I need them to feel like they’re important,” she explained, tentatively stepping inside the minuscule room, letting the door shut behind her. Mon knew better than anyone that there were days where you were a fuse waiting to explode, especially on the days when your fingertips were covered in pencil residue.

You scoffed. “I know I can fly but last time I checked I wasn’t a captain.”

“Well, yes, but you’re quite good at welcoming new recruits and I just wanted to let you know that-”

“This is about Andor, isn’t it?” You questioned.

“Yes, it is. I just wanted to let you know that-”

“He was the one on Aldhani with me. The guy Luthen hired,” you finished with a smug look, relishing in the perplexed expression on Mon's face. Despite your strong allegiance to the Chandrilian woman in front of you, it never hurt to stump those in higher positions.

“Did you always know that?” Mon questioned.

“Luthen told me,” you mumbled. “I told him I wouldn’t do the mission if he didn’t tell me. Didn’t gain me much, but you know how I like to do things.” Mon Mothma let out a breathy laugh.

“Now that I do.” She gave you a small smile. “Well, since you know that, would you like to join us?”

“Might as well,” you said, groaning as you stood up and stretched out your back. “I’ve been hunched over that desk all day trying to figure out the easiest way to break through Coruscant’s communication towers.”

“Some air will be good for you,” Mon mused, opening the door to your quarters and guiding you towards the flight deck.

You felt slightly out of place amongst all the captains and lieutenants. Sure, you could fly - quite well if you were being honest - and you wasn’t too shabby with a blaster either, but you felt the most comfortable nestled in corners around the base with your notebooks and blueprints.

Once the ships had landed and their occupants were safe on solid ground, Mon welcomed the new recruits. Your eyes searched the faces of those standing before you, noting the various emotions that graced everyone’s features. Fear, excitement, and a pair of searing brown eyes you had seen once before.

Cassian Andor.

~~~~~

It had been a few weeks since Cassian had joined you on the Yavin-4 base and, much to the dismay of quite literally every single person on the base, the two of you had been picking petty fights non-stop.

“Andor.”

“I’m on my break.”

“You’re in my spot,” you pointed out, hovering over Cassian. It was stupid, really, but he was sitting in your favorite corner spot and you had a long day.

In total fairness, you both had a long day. Whilst his morning was filled with debriefs, yours was spent continuing to make plans for an infiltration mission Mon Mothma had tasked you with organizing. The afternoon was spent with some flying drills, where you two had spent more time arguing through your COM systems than actually flying.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that we suddenly had assigned seats,” he said, not even bothering to turn around and face you directly. Your face scrunched up in frustration.

“I think the pen marks I’ve left there over the past few months tell a different story,” you retorted, moving Cassian’s strategically placed hand to reveal various equations you had scribbled down over your time on the rebel base.��

It wasn’t a big deal, in all honesty. Sure, you loved your corners - you would swear on the Rebellion itself that they were the most comfortable of places to work - but there were plenty more for you to sit at. It’s just that you were exhausted after a grueling day’s work and wanted to spend some time in one of your favorite spots.

And maybe poking at the pilot in front of you was fun, but you wouldn't dare to admit that out loud.

“Maybe if your brain spent more time in the sky than it does in your skull we wouldn’t be forced to do those stupid lessons,” he grumbled, still choosing to not turn around and face you, which just frustrated you even more.

“So it’s my fault they’re making us train then?”

“I could do it just fine on my own.”

“Right, yeah, okay sure. Let’s blame the person who's been slaving away to try and understand just how these new Imperial ships work instead of blaming the Empire itself. Nice going Andor,” you practically shouted, causing a few heads to turn in the fairly empty mess hall. You could've sworn that you could hear a few of them sigh - a here we go again murmured amongst the tired rebels even - but you were purely focused on the man from Ferrix who sat before you.

Cassian abruptly stood up, finally facing you. His gaze was hard and cold, bordering on terrifying.

It was one of the reasons why you hated Cassian; you were supposed to be the one with the terrifying stares, not him. It was what you were known for. He couldn’t be both the greatest pilot and the greatest “death stare giver-outer”. It wasn't fair.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” he seethed, jaw clenching in an attempt to control his rising anger.

“Well that’s sure as hell what it sounded like,” you retorted, eyes quickly darting across his face before settling back on his eyes. His clenched jaw and hardened eyes indicating that you were really in for it now.

“Forget it,” he exclaimed, abruptly pushing his seat back to leave. “Take your damn chair.” It shocked you a bit, that he didn't keep pressing as he normally did. But you were both tired, so you brushed it off, trying to hide your disappointment that he was backing down so easily.

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it now Andor,” you shouted after him, a smirk donning your features as he flipped you off without so much as turning back around to look at you.

Sitting down in your spot, you let out a sigh of relief. Finally, a moment of peace. You pulled out your notebook to read through the notes informants had provided to you when your pages instantly got cast with a shadow.

“Look, Andor if you’re going to be a bitch about this then I think-”

“You two are worse than children,” Mon's voice rang out. You whipped your head up, giving a sheepish smile in return. 

“Sorry Mon, thought you were Andor,” you mumbled. Mon shook her head, a slight smile gracing her lips as she sat down opposite you.

“I really was hoping that two of our greatest assets wouldn’t be at each other’s necks all the time, you know,” she remarked.

“Someone’s gotta put his ego down a rung.”

“I could say he’s doing the same for you.” You gasped in mock offense. 

“And here I thought you were on my side.”

Mon let out a half-hearted chuckle. “I’m on the side of the Rebellion.” 

“Of course, you have to ruin my fun with your realistic statements,” you grumbled.

“You know me,” Mon said. “Anyways, I wanted to speak with you about an upcoming assignment.”

You groaned. “Again? I just got back two days ago from the last one and I swear this time that I’m so close to figuring out the easiest way to break through Coruscant’s communications systems.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I wish I could give you more time to work your magic but it’s urgent.”

“When do I leave,” you sighed in defeat. You knew there was no way to argue around an assignment, let alone one directly given to you by Mon.

“You’ll find out tomorrow. I just wanted to give you a heads up so you don’t flip out in front of everyone again,” Mon Mothma explained, trying - and failing - to suppress a smirk.

“That was one time!” You exclaimed. “Besides, it wasn’t my idea to pair Andor and I up on a long-ass mission to the Outer Rim.” It was at that moment that Mon made a crucial mistake. Her eyes flitted to the wall behind you, and it was at that second that you connected the dots.

“No!” You shouted, standing up from the table. There was no way you were going on another mission with him again.

“The situation was entirely out of my control, you-”

“I’m not listening to this right now,” you grumbled, slamming your notebook shut and grabbing your belongings. 

Mon sighed, knowing her arguing would be futile. “Get some rest, please," she pleaded.

“Whatever,” you murmured, walking away from the leader. You knew you were being childish, but the exhaustion of the day had caught up to you and you were so grateful to finally be back on base that the idea of having to leave so soon agitated you further. Especially if you had to be with him. 

As you practically stormed towards your sleeping quarters, you passed a confused-looking Cassian who was in the middle of talking with some fellow pilots. 

“Wait up!” He shouted to you. You were too exhausted with everything to argue and let him catch up with you.

You two walked in silence for a minute or so until Cassian spoke up. “Ran out of snarky comments for today, huh?”

“Just quit it Cassian, I’ve had a long day,” you grumbled. He paused directly in his tracks.

“Woah.”

“What now?”

“You called me Cassian.”

“So?” You shrugged. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”

“You always call me Andor,” he pointed out. You never noticed it until this very moment, but you realized he was right. 

“Just tired, is all,” you mumbled.

“Are you sure?” He questioned.

“Careful there Andor,” you lightly chuckled. “I’m gonna start thinking that you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.” You looked at him then and was shocked at the amount of honesty you found in his gaze. You shook it off instantly, blaming it on the exhaustion that evidently radiated off the two of you.

“Yeah right.” You paused in front of your door, turning around to face him. “See you in the morning Andor.”

“Goodnight.”

You closed the door on him without so much as a second glance, instantly flopping onto your bed. 

I can’t believe I have to go on another mission with him, you thought to yourself.

Cassian Andor.

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

thanks for reading this far!! i hope you guys liked it - let me know what you think! this was originally gonna be a one shot and then i was like wait let me cook so i hope you enjoy my yapping <3

i swear they're gonna interact more in the next part gang we just had to do some set up here (i promise there will be WAY more fluff this man deserves some happiness because he's always having a shit time, but it's also cassian so naturally shit has to be complicated)

expect the next part soon!! working on it as we speak :D

next >

[jellisdraws]

Retrospective - Chapter 1 (Destiny 2 Fanfic)

Enkidu materialized into the still quiet of the early morning. The small ghost in his black and gold shell hovered over the curled form of his guardian as the first fingers of dawn pushed their way across the cloud strewn sky of winter.  He bobbed gently in the air, turning to peer again through the narrow window of Mira’s cramped and cluttered hideout within the ruins of the old Tower. His robotic eye blinked, watching the thin strip of  sky above the flowing lights and skyscrapers of the Last City. That view had long been filled by the Traveller, a small slice of enigmatic divinity. It had hung there, the being that had breathed life into him as it died, so he could breathe life into her. Now there was just the foreboding gray of the winter clouds, nearly smothering the light of dawn, but not completely.  

 He returned back down to Mira, gently nestling into the cradle of her body where she curled, breathing deep and evenly in sleep. She looked much the same as the first day they met; her dark  hair a touch longer, some new scars peeking from beneath the heavy coat she was sleeping under, but there was the same careworn face cast in dusky blue, a slight frown that even rest could not dispel. 

They had spent nine years together,  nine years of adventure turned to unending warfare, of existential threats encountered, opposed, defeated. Gods fell beneath her gun, but friends had fallen along the way too, lost opposing the darkness. The Witness. For all that guardians had the capacity to defy fate, they could not deny death. Mira had been dealing death out with an efficacy that appalled even Enkidu at times. She’d been killing since nearly the moment she had been standing reborn as a guardian of the light. There had been danger of course, threats to their safety that required violence to even allow Mira to survive her first days, let alone get back to the City. Thinking back on it as she shifted around him, something clicked against his shell. He didn't have to glance down to know she was sleeping with her sword tucked between her knees. It was a practice that went back to those early days. 

He wished he couldn't count the number of nights they had spent hiding from Fallen and Hive trying to escape old Russia, he could practically fill a calendar with them. Back then she would sleep only when he asked her to, and only if he was present keeping watch. He had told her he was always with her- even when she couldn't see him. It was true: he could act as her comms and see and hear through her eyes and ears. But she liked being able to hold him, or have him bump into her; those little reminders she wasn't alone. Mira was quiet, he supposed it came with what made her a good hunter, but in the beginning she had been almost hollow, machine-like. Not that she was an Exo, she just had a sort of cold flatness to her that shook him from time to time.  Given her stoicism in the early days, it had taken Enkidu too long to learn that something was wrong. It had taken him too long to realize she was in pain. Enkidu knew his guardian was hurting still . She had been hurting since the day he had awoken her. It was a wound he didn't know how to fix.

Day: 5

Chapter 1: We Two Are One

The fire snapped, a shower of sparks jumping into the air and Mira tensed, pulling her rifle close, half ready to dodge roll out of the bombed out section of a parking garage she was taking shelter in and begin running again. Her gaze was sharp and haunted as she peered into the darkness through the scope of her weapon, silent and as still as possible. The moment passed into a minute, and still she was peering, watching, looking, finger on the trigger. 

Enkidu piped up from his place in her hood, “You can relax- I haven’t heard any Fallen comms chatter for days now, and the hive magic readings have dwindled to nearly nothing since this morning. You can rest.” 

“Yeah.” she didn’t move, eyes trained through the scope. 

“Mira,” Enkidu said, as gently as he could while remaining firm, “please rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

“I know…” she sat back heavily against the rust pitted metal of a broken down old van, the gun pulled across her chest tightly as she huddled down.

“Tell me about it again,” she said, her gaze lost somewhere in the dwindling flames, “Tell me about the Last City. The… Guardians, and their Tower.” 

He was happy to do it, his small synthetic  voice cutting away at the silence, telling her of the hope that lay ahead. He told her of the Traveler, a silent god that died in the wake of pushing back an all consuming darkness, and whom simultaneously chose to send the ghosts out to humanity with the vestiges of it's light, to kindle that hope that persisted. He told her of the vanguard. He told her of his many years searching for her. The fire burned down and she curled into the trunk space of the van, a tighter space to sleep in. It made her feel secure he supposed. 

“Did you always know it would be me?” She said around a yawn.

“Yes and no,” Enkidu returned gently, “I didn’t know you would be you. But I knew that I would resonate with you. I always knew you’d be like no one else.”

“Mm.” He thought he could hear the smile in her voice. 

“I searched for you for such a long time… I was  worried. I thought… I thought I wouldn’t find you.” 

“Mm”

“Mira?”

“Mmhm” 

“I’m with you now.”

She groped blindly behind her, fishing the small angular ghost out of her hood as she leaned against the nearly weathered away seat backs, and promptly fell asleep with him tucked to her chest.

“Mira.”

“Mmph...”

She barely felt as though she’d slept before she was jolted awake by Enkidu’s voice. “Mira, wake up! Wake up right-”

An explosion rocked the garage, sending dust and rust sheeting down on her as she scrambled to wakefulness. Enkidu dematerialized, still speaking into her mind,

“Fallen raiding party,” he said, “Probably chasing you. There's not much out here for them to scavenge.” “Probably didn't appreciate the bullet I put into Karrhis’ skull.” she said as she pulled on her helmet, and drew her hood up and gathered her rifle. “I have mapped a possible exit, can you run?”

She nodded. Fallen chatter and scuttling steps were getting closer, fast.

“They're here, Go!” She exploded from her hiding place in the van to the sound of a shrapnel launcher turning the rusted heap of a vehicle into slag. She fired blindly back towards the source of the shots. Heard a gratifying howl as she pierced shields. She sprinted up the collapsed concrete to the top  level of the garage, paused to gauge direction. “West, into the trees! Watch for the skiff!” Enkindu urged

She took off, arc bolts flying by her as the Dregs made the roof. She spun, squeezed the trigger twice, two bodies fell in an explosion of ether one after the other. Still others were coming, filing behind cover to take pot shots, she could feel the impacts sizzling in her shields, draining the energy cells. The edge of the rooftop loomed; beyond it, naught but the tops of the pine forest that had overtaken this town; cover, an escape. She lept, and poured solar light into her hands, focusing her fury into the hand-cannon, into bolts of pure concentrated star fire. She illuminated the early morning in a blaze of light, blasting off shot after shot as she spun to face her attackers mid air. They burst into columns of super heated ash, igniting and burning each other away. As the assault party burned into wayward dust, her solar light faded. As she began to fall, she concentrated on landing without breaking an ankle. It would take time until she could gather her light that strongly again, and she couldn't afford to be slowed by anything, least of all-

A glint through the trees. “NO!” yelled Enkidu The bolt from the wire rifle took her through the neck moments before her feet met the ground with bone shattering force. She was dead before her head impacted the ground, yards from where her body lay. But death couldn't stop a Guardian. 

Enkidu materialized, and expanded, his shell emanating the restorative light of the Traveler. “I’m with you now,” he said again, “ I'm not letting you go.”

Day 3,321

“You’ve been awfully quiet this morning,”Mira said, glancing up at Enkidu over the dust mask she wore as she repainted her new set of armor. Again. “Something on your mind?” She asked, when he didn't answer right away. 

She had taken the morning to tidy her living quarters, dismantling some old weapons and armor into usable components, and had reassembled some of her usual gear into new configurations, testing efficacy, chatting with him about the potential synergies of certain applications of her abilities and the modifications she was testing in her armor. “Not much,” he started, spinning his shell playfully to disguise his low mood. She cocked an eyebrow at him, watching him carefully.

“Just thinking,” he admitted, “ that you've changed.” “Mm?” She glanced at him and sat back, pulling the mask down around her neck and skewing her legs into a tight pretzel, holding her ankles as she looked up at him with faintly glowing golden eyes, “how so?”

Enkidu floated to eye level, and bobbled up and down, separating from his shell slightly- his version of a shrug, “I'm not sure I guess. I was considering it…You're warmer?” “Warmer?” The brow raised again, but her lips quirked too. The shoulders she’d drawn in around her ears relaxed. “I don't know!” 

She laughed and gently poked him, “Well tell me when you figure it out, alright?”

“Of course,” He said, floating up as she started shaking paint cans again, eyeing the white and gold chest armor she’d been working on. There it was again, he noticed, as her smile fell and the mask returned to cover her nose and mouth.  The tightness around her eyes, something she couldn't shake. 

“That's right!” he said. “You figured it out that fast?”

“What- no. Actually, Han and Dusty are back in town,”Enkidu continued, “Ches contacted me. They want to see you.” “No way, really?” She perked up, “It's been ages! Once I finish this we should go find them.”

“You got it, I’ll let them know we’ll see them soon.” He settled into the little nest she had made him on a shelf nearby and watched as she put up her hair, a purposeful gleam in her eyes as she began to paint again. 

* * *

“Yo!”

Most of the day had passed by the time Mira had finished reorganizing and crafting her new looks. Still, she chose her familiar red and black armor and cloak and grabbed the rifle that had scarcely left her hands since she’d pulled it from the Egregore aboard the Glykon. 

The clouds above the wall had taken on an brilliant orange color, as the light of the setting sun painted them in fiery hue, and Mira sauntered up the stairs past the hanger and rounded the corner into the main plaza and transmat hub. Here, Guardians and ghosts hurried about on errands: interacting with frames, collecting packages from the postmaster or checking Eva’s stock. Rahool was lecturing a gaggle of New Lights on the intricacies of decryption, Banshee was fiddling with Telesto, again. Mira slid past it all like a shadow accented in crimson, head swiveling, until a familiar tinny voice pulled her gaze and she hustled through the crowd toward it. She burst from the throng and lept, laughing, into the arms of a massive Exo clad in highly worn  green and orange armor. “Dusty! Holy shit man, I thought you beefed it a long time ago!” She said “I could say the same for you, bird brain,” he laughed, setting her down and tugging at the beak of her helmet’s faceplate, “Still sporting this old thing?”

“ You're the one who said ‘If it ain't broke…,’” her grin was audible through the mask.

A hand clapped her shoulder, and she turned to see the horned helm of Dullahan-12 looming over her, with Chester floating along behind the huge Titan. “Yo!” she said. “Yo,” he said before folding her into a tight  hug. 

“My… ribs” She gasped in jest but she wrapped her arms round him too and lifted him nearly off his feet. 

“It's good to see you, Mira, Kidu,” Dullahan said as she set him down

“You too Han, and I see you back there Ches, You keeping these guys out of trouble?” Mira said, peering past Han’s pauldrons. 

“Unsuccessfully, but I soldier on.” came the prim voice of Dullahan’s ghost. 

“Keep at it, they may even listen one day.” She laughed, and returned to the two titans, “Well fuck guys, it's been a minute.” “It certainly has,” said Dusty, “Drinks? Rumor out in the wilds is Drifter set up a bar on the HELM?” “You aint seen it? Either of you?”

They shook their heads.

 “Been a long time since we were back this way,” Dullahan said. “Then let's go, I’ll cover first round.” She said grabbing 

“Aw you're not gonna treat us all night?” Dusty pouted. “I know how much you two can drink, absolutely not.” Mira said, bumping him with her shoulder, or rather bouncing off of his. “We can take my ship.” Han said

“Or mine!” said Dusty

“Dusty, If I never climb into that rust bucket you claim to be a ship again, it will still be too soon.” Han said, “we can take my ship.” “Don't insult the Interceptor like that! I've solved the fuel line problem mostly! It wont blow up again!... Probably.”  he said defensively

Mira wheezed, “it’s really been too long.” Soon enough they were racing above the skyline in Dullahan's ship, taking in the view of the Last City as they ascended to orbit and shortly thereafter docked with the HELM. They soon found themselves around one end of the bar set up, chatting in the blue light of the aquarium dominating the chamber as Mira pointed out which fish she had caught to add to the collection. There was a gentle buzz of commotion here, Guardians, Awoken, Eliksni and Cabal all stationed on the HELM used this place to unwind, or access the portal to Titan — Though with Ahsa safe and in an extended recovery period, there had been little reason to dive into the methane seas other than for patrols or to study Oryx’s corpse. 

“Sounds like a lot has been going on,” Dullahan said, adjusting the umbrella in his glass before sipping through the straw. 

“It has been, it just doesn't stop. There's always some new fuckhead that's lived for eons beyond eons I need to put a bullet into! And they’re chipping away at us. I don't know. Things came… too close on Neomuna.” She scrubbed the back of her head and tipped her  drink into her mouth. Letting the ice clink against her teeth as she drained a gin and tonic, she emancipated a small chip of ice to chew between her molars contemplatively, before sighing and returning her glass to the coaster on the bar, making sure she placed it precisely back on the ring of condensation left there already. 

“ It feels like I used to have a better grasp of who our enemies were.” She continued.

“Alien. Monstrous. Not… people. Not like us. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we’ve found commonality with them, we need allies and it's important to know some enemies can become friends,” Dusty said, gaze drifting to where a small gaggle of Eliksni had dragged  Crow through the door and were encouraging him to sit and relax for a moment - a nigh impossible task, “Some of them are even good friends! But I can't deny it makes the battle lines a whole lot messier.”

“Yeah. I mean, remember the days of delving into the Hellmouth? The Pit?  I mean it was scary as shit then but it was exciting? And looking back at it, those days of exploring, of seeking new weapons and armor, even heading back to Europa to find where you both came from - that was the first time I really took joy in being a Guardian- and we were disobeying the Vanguard’s directives! I don't know… everything feels different now and the same all at once. And Im-” She caught herself.

“You’re…?”Han prompted

She shook her head, and turned to wave down the Frame tending the bar for a refill. Dusty raised a metallic brow at Han, who shrugged.

“It feels like we’re coming to the end…” She said quietly, more to her glass than either of her companions, “and I'm not sure if we’ll survive what the Witness has planned- but if we do… I’m not sure what I’ll be afterwards. On Neomuna I, well…” The words dried up.

 The two of them hadn't talked about it; she didn't know if he knew, or if he would forgive her. 

Sacrifice. Sacrifice was part of being a Guardian. Sacrifice meant accepting pain and loss so others did not have to. She had always been okay with that, until the sacrifice was no longer hers to make. She could have stopped the Witness from reaching the Veil, stopped it from breaching the Traveler, albeit temporarily. She would have slowed it down, held it back. Given the Coalition more time to mount a defense. And all she had had to do was kill Enkidu as the Witness piloted him towards the Veil. 

The rifle had been in her hands before she knew it, her ghost in her sights. It would be simple to squeeze the trigger. So simple to end the life of her closest friend, her other half, her grace, her soul. The Witness dragged Enkidu higher and higher into the Veil, connected to the Traveler, and she- she couldn't shoot, couldn't speak, couldn't call him back to her. 

It was Nimbus who dragged her ghost away, with the same dramatic flair they brought to life. And when he bobbed back into the air, safe and himself, Enkidu looked to her and the gun in her hands burned like sin. She’d looked away, unable to face him, and made the call to Zavala. They’d lost.

Mira didn't know what to say to her ghost. She’d felt him there, watching her quietly for weeks now. She knew he was hurting. She knew it was her fault. She had created a rift between them, and it was something she didn't know how to fix.

[leafyeyes417]

Jeweled Rage

Danny knew he had been staring too long at the guy, judging by the suspicious glances from him and the two he was with. But really his mind was kinda stuck on how the guy had managed to get some kind of supernatural jewelry stuck in his chest.

It didn’t feel exactly ghostly but he knew it was on the dead spectrum. He just knew that this was the reason Clockwork had given specific (if cryptic, like always) instructions when he was going to meet Jazz in Gotham.

He inwardly groaned as the trio made their way over to him, deciding to confront him for staring.

“Is there a reason you’ve been staring at me?” Jason said aggressively.

Danny grimaced. “Yeah… I have absolutely no clue how to start this conversation but I can already tell you it is not heading in the direction you think it is.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Well that’s not any less suspicious than before.”

Danny sighed. “Look, I was given specific instructions before I came to Gotham by a guy who is cryptic up the wazoo but knows basically everything. I’m supposed to tell ‘the one with the Jeweled Rage’ that ‘The Hellblazer is the answer to ending the Rage.’ And since you are the one with the Jewelry problem, that is your message.”

Dick blinks, turning to look at Tim. “Jewelry problem? Did I miss something while I was working out today?”

Both Tim and Jason look just as confused, turning to look skeptically at Danny, with Tim asking, “What Jewelry problem are you talking about?”

Danny frowned. “You mean you don’t know about the piece of supernatural Jewelry stuck in his chest?” He says, pointing at Jason.

The three freeze before Jason bursts out, “If there was something stuck in my chest how wasn’t it seen by an x-ray?! I know I’ve broken my ribs more than once over the years!”

Danny deadpans. “Unless it was a supernatural x-ray the chances of seeing it is microscopic. Supernatural shit is weird.”

Dick suddenly reaches out, grabbing Danny’s wrist. “You are coming with us while we get this figured out.”

Danny gives a bare minimum of resistance, face resigned, already knowing something like this would happen. “I better be fed while being held hostage or I will ensure you have the worst minor inconveniences for a month.”

[exhausted-undead]

have Mel in her twenties! very roughly inspired by a rococo painting I saw a while back

[zeropro]

After Thundercracker's rejection, Starscream and Skywarp have a run in with Megatron, who proceeds to beat Starscream up. Skywarp finally has enough and jumps in to get them out of there, but gets hit right as he's mid warp and it destabilizes his warp drive, causing him to experience a canon event.

[previous] | [next]

[rocketrrush]

my take on a dark sonic adjacent form for blaze

[dreamweave01]

Part 2 ->

*Penguin waddles into room inconspicuously*

*Drops first half of comic with a pat on the head*

*Jazz hands and mystically teleports into thin air before mob arrives*

[h20milk]

tfw you fall in love with the magicless prefect that keeps running around campus 🤦‍♀️

[thebrainrotsreal]

Was pondering how Mark’s rigid ass mask/lens is prob a Budget Thing (since squishy, bendy lens are pretty much a mandate for all hero animated series, like JL, BTAS, TNBA, Spider-Man, etc), and then I was slapped with a vision of Mark in a more JL/BTAS-ish style and I had to see it through. I am a genius btw.

[flowersdiceandlove]

I am 100% completely convinced that on Mount Yujun when Hua Cheng burst into thousands of butterflies that he did not mean to do that. That man was freaking out so bad at finally finding Xie Lian again and holding his hand and helping him and Xie Lian being right there that when he finally saw just the slightest glimpse of Xie Lian’s face and the thought of Xie Lian seeing him that his nerves took over and he burst into thousands of butterflies. All throughout the walk, Hua Cheng was trying his damnedest to keep it the fuck together (literally) but he just couldn’t anymore. You cannot convince me otherwise. He held Xie Lian’s hand all through the walk, but then he shakes Xie Lian’s hand off the next time they meet? Yeah, he’s scared he’s gonna explode into butterflies again and that would Not Be Cool and Ruin His Image he’s curating for Xie Lian as this cool reliable guy he can come to for help and depend on.

[cassanovablue]

Casanova

Cassian Andor X Reader | Part 2/3

a/n: thank you guys for all your support on the first part!! this was supposed to come out wayyy sooner but fun fact! did not realize that moving houses would be that exhausting that was my bad guys. a very, very belated "may the 4th be with you" to you all. anyways, that cassian and bix scene in s2 ep6 am i right guys

word count: 7.1k (woops)

warnings: some angst cause this guy can't catch a break, i think that's it i suck at this part of it all that's my bad

summary: getting sent on a mission with a stubborn pilot has its perks

“You’re in my way.���

“I quite literally am not.”

“If you two do not stop bickering at this exact moment, I will see to it that you both are grounded for the foreseeable future,” Mon Mothma practically shouted, the frustration growing ever so rapidly in her face. It was early in the morning - the sun had barely risen - and you and Cassian had already begun your petty fights.

That shut the two of you up. Cassian had a constant itch to be in the center of the action (despite his various claims that this itch was entirely false), while you could only go so long being stuck on base before your brain became a literal mush of equations.

Cassian moved a step to the right. You tried to suppress a smirk. You appreciated him practically conceding to your argument in front of the two of you and you loved it when he admitted you were right.

“Good,” Mon let out a sigh of relief. “Are you two ready to act like the civilized adults you supposedly are?” You both nodded as you snuck a glimpse at the man beside you. That permanent frown that seemed to be constantly set in his face stuck out in the dim lighting of the room, the glow emitting from the map on the table highlighting his sharp features. His eyes flitted towards your face, making you instantly turn back to face Mon. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment, already coming up with possible excuses in your mind if he dared to press you any further.

“Y/N, how much more time do you need to break through the towers on Coruscant?” Mon asked.

“Not too much longer, I hope,” you said, fidgeting with your fingers behind your back, wanting nothing more than to go back to your room and check over your work. You had barely gotten any sleep the night before, against your better judgment, and had finally come to a conclusion suitable enough to allow yourself a couple of hours of sleep. “I finished practically everything last night. I just need to physically see the equipment to ensure everything’s alright. If the information that Bail sent back is the newest version, then the Empire hasn’t done as much to alter it as we initially thought.”

“So you’re just assuming then,” Cassian pointed out. You turned your attention towards him, choosing to ignore the soft sigh that came from Mon.

“It’s not assuming Andor, it’s a theory. Besides, with technology as complicated and old as the towers, the only thing you can do is go for yourself to test it out,” you explained, crossing your arms as you stared directly at the man before you. You noticed the bags around his eyes - more prominent than usual - and the way his eyes looked so enticing. God, were you tired.

“Which is exactly why you two are going to Coruscant as part of your next mission,” Mon said. “You’ll both be going undercover to help Y/N break through the tower, which will ultimately make communications between us and Coruscant simpler.” The more details that Mon laid out, the more the nerves began to overcome you. 

It wasn’t the first time you were tasked with a difficult mission - hell, this was easy compared to most of the ones you partook in - but going undercover had never been your strongest suit. Using a blaster and flying complex ships was easier than putting on a facade.

But Cassian, oh Cassian. If there was anything he was known for on the base other than being an outstanding pilot, it was his undercover skills. He could charm anyone with the simplest of smiles, something you were envious of.

“Any questions?” Mon asked, but you weren't paying attention. You felt something nudge your foot, looked down, and instantly looked back up at the man before you. He had a quizzical look in his eyes, a look that held so many questions, but you just looked back at Mon.

You straightened up, “We leave right after this is done, I assume?”

“There will be a ship ready for you two in an hour on the tarmac. I suggest getting all of your things in order quickly beforehand. The ride to Coruscant isn’t long, you know?” Cassian scoffed at Mon’s comment, and you noticed the unspoken conversation between the two. Perhaps there was more to Cassian than you ever thought possible.

“Who are we?” Cassian asked, hands practically itching to go.

“Callum and Wren Carillo,” Mon said, passing identity cards to the two of you respectively.

You scoffed, “Mon, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think that Andor and I look related.”

“God, we’ve got to get you a constant caf supply at this point,” Cassian mumbled. Any fiber of yourself that thought Cassian was being nice to you that morning had vanished with his snide remark.

“Sorry, I was working last night, flyboy - I’ll make sure to let our intel on Coruscant figure out how to easily send sensitive information over on their own next time,” you retorted, turning your body to face Cassian.

“Flyboy, huh? That’s a new one,” he remarked, taking a step closer to you.

“Would you prefer Captain flyboy, oh almighty one,” you scoffed, daring to push him even further by taking another step forward. You two were so close together that you could feel his breath on your cheeks.

“I like the way Captain sounds coming from you, sweetheart,” he smirked. The nickname caught you severely off guard. 

Sure, you gave out nicknames to people like candy. Mon was called mom every time she got on your ass about not properly filling out a report post mission and Bail Organa had been called oregano one too many times when you was ten and carefree. But you were most proud of the repertoire you had come up with for Cassian.

Andor, Cass (although that he had never heard fall from your lips), bastard (a frequently used one in the confines of your room), flyboy, and, most recently, Captain flyboy.

But Cassian had never referred to you as anything but your name. Hell, he didn’t even use your name most of the time. He had called you a pain in the ass once - you took a sharp turn once in a speeder, nearly knocking him entirely out of the vehicle - but most often he just said you, his voice laced thick with emotions that even you couldn’t place.

But sweetheart? That was new, unexpected, and frankly terrifying. You didn’t expect him to have that big of an effect on you, especially with something as trivial as a nickname. 

You sucked in a quick breath, “Well, that’s a new one coming from you.”

“I’m just getting into character,” Cassian said, that damned smirk never quite leaving his face. You scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion, eyes darting across his face to try and read him. 

“Mon?” You questioned, eyes not tearing away from Cassian's.

“He means that you two are married, Y/N,” Mon gently explained. If you had looked over at her, you would’ve noticed the glint in Mon’s eyes at the sight before her.

“Oh,” you whispered, finally tearing your eyes away from the pilot and turning back to face Mon. “That makes more sense.”

Mon let out a light chuckle. “I’ll leave you two to get ready,” she said, taking her leave from the room, leaving you and Cassian alone. 

“What was all that about?” You seethed once you two were the sole occupants of the control room. 

“Like I said, just getting into character, darling,” he drawled. Damn that man. You were quite for a beat too long, and his eyebrows quirked up in amusement. "Do you like that?"

"Andor-"

"Sweetheart-"

“Drop it, Andor, please." Your curt tone caught him off guard, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Noted.” He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. An uncomfortable silence overcame the two of you as you tried to look anywhere but at him.

“I should go grab my stuff,” you said, moving towards the door.

“Right, see you in a bit.”

As you walked back to your quarters to collect your things, you couldn’t help but think about the names Cassian had tossed around. He was just doing his job, proving to yourself and Mon that he truly was one of the best spies the Rebellion had ever seen. You had to start getting more sleep; the less you got, the more you were convincing yourself he felt something towards you other than disgust.

An hour later, you made your way towards the tarmac, clutching the straps of your bag filled with your plans and equations. As you got closer, you let out a smile upon seeing K-2SO handing Cassian cargo. You loved that droid and the way he would go after Cassian, but only with you. If anyone else said anything insulting to his friend, they’d better watch out. But with you, it was different.

“Seems like you two have everything covered,” you said, handing your bag over to Cassian to toss in with the rest of their supplies.

“Cassian has been filling me in on what you two have to do. He said that you weren’t paying attention during the debrief and that it was my responsibility to tell you,” he said rather curtly.

Ok, so maybe he was a bit harsh to you as well, but you could blame that on his old Imperial programming.

“Oh, you know me, always lost in thought, I guess,” you quipped back, shooting a glance towards Cassian that got you a smirk in return. That bastard.

“Anyways, I think it’s rather absurd that they needed two of you for this job,” K-2 remarked, giving Cassian the closest thing to a side eye that a droid could muster. 

“You and me both, K-2,” you said, patting the droid on the back.

“It’s quite simple, especially since you’ve done all the hard stuff Y/N.” Cassian let out a quiet groan as K-2 began another one of his characteristic speeches. “It seems inefficient to send two of Yavin’s greatest assets for something as simple as this. They could’ve just sent-”

“Are we all set?” You rushed, quickly cutting the droid off. If you had turned your attention towards Cassian, you would’ve noticed the appreciative look on his face. But alas, you were too concerned with your favorite “bitchy” droid.

“We should be. Although Cassian mentioned-”

“Get inside, K-2,” Cassian interrupted, moving out of the way to let the droid in. You looked curiously between the two, too tired to try and figure out their silent conversation.

As you began to step onto the ship, Cassian grabbed your arm.

“Here,” he said, passing you a steaming cup of caf. You looked curiously between the man and the cup.

“Did you poison it, flyboy?” He let out a laugh, and Maker, it was the sweetest sound to ever grace your ears. God, you desperately needed sleep.

“Just a smidge.” You smiled back at him, taking a cautious sip. You let out a sigh, allowing your shoulders to relax as the taste prickled on your tongue. “Good?”

“Perfect,” you smiled. Your eyes locked onto his hand, still grasping your arm, before looking back at Cassian’s face. He didn’t make an effort to move.

That is, until the droid stuck in the co-pilot’s seat grew ever so impatient.

“Are you two going to kiss or come inside?” K-2 shouted from inside. Your head snapped up in surprise as Cassian dropped your arm quickly, as if your touch had burned him.

“Just give me the debrief, K-2,” you mumbled, quickly darting inside and taking your seat.

~~~~~

“Do you think leaving K-2 behind was the smartest idea?” You questioned as the two of you walked into the hotel room.

“Are you suggesting he’d spill all of our plans or get himself killed with all of his talking?” Cassian teased, closing the door behind him.

“Both.”

The room itself was of a decent size. There was only one bed, as anticipated, but a comfortable enough-looking couch in the corner that was practically screaming your name. You had arrived on Coruscant early enough, but you were incapable of getting any sleep on the quick flight thanks to K-2 and his extensive debrief - seriously, you could’ve sworn that Mon hadn’t talked for nearly that long when she originally gave you two the information. Despite your early arrival, it took forever to get off your ship - with the Empire tightening security everywhere it was damn near impossible to get through with an Imperial issued droid in the front seat - and you were more exhausted now than ever.

“So, what’s the game plan for tomorrow?” Cassian asked as you flopped onto the couch, sighing as you hit the plush material. You reached into your bag, grasping for the encrypted paper Mon had given you with your schedule.

“Attend one of the galas some random senator is hosting, and then the day after, break into the tower and get out of here,” you said, eyes squinting as the words blurred before you. “I’m assuming there’s someone we’re supposed to meet or cajole into getting us access to the tower.”

“She didn’t leave any names? Or anything that might be of any use to us?”

You groaned. “I don’t have the energy to decipher Mon’s incredibly tiny handwriting at the moment.” You could’ve sworn you heard Cassian let out a soft laugh.

“Do you want any food? I’m gonna go scout out the floor plan in case we need to get out quick,” he said. You turned your head to face him, finding his casual lean against the doorframe annoyingly attractive.

“Sure.” He gave you a small smile, one that made your stomach flip. Oh, the sweet clutches of sleep had never seemed more enticing. A good night’s rest and everything you'd been feeling over the past twelve hours would be resolved.

“Don’t fall asleep on me while I’m gone,” Cassian teased.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, flyboy,” you yawned, nestling your head into the pillow.

The second you heard the door shut, you were out like a light.

~~~~~

“Is she ever going to wake up?”

“K-2!” Cassian whispered, just loudly enough to make it to your ears. 

“What? She’s putting us behind sch-”

“I’m going to make you go back to the ship for the rest of the mission if you keep this up.”

“-edule. Besides, I still don’t get why you had to come along when Y/N, or literally anyone else, clearly-”

“Where is that goddamn off switch?”

“-could’ve done this alone.”

“You two are terrible at being quiet, you know,” you mumbled, eyes still shut tight to block out the glaring sun in the room.

“Well that’s just Cassian’s fault.” K-2 said.

“My fault?” Cassian shouted incredulously. 

You laughed a bit to yourself. You'd deny it if anyone dared to ask, but there was something quite endearing about the way those two bickered.

“Take K-2 back to the ship,” you grumbled.

“Listen to the genius over there”, Cassian said, a hint of relief in his voice. You heard K-2’s protests, but your head was still groggy from what felt like a coma.

Once you heard the door click behind you, you let your eyes open, instantly becoming confused at the fact that your were on the bed. Last you remembered, you had fallen asleep on the couch. Cassian must’ve moved you, but then that met that he must’ve slept on the couch. Oh that bastard.

~~~~~

When Cassian came back to the room, you were, once again, hunched over a desk. You had slept through most of the morning - the wonders of running on caffeine and five hours of sleep for days, and was now triple - quadruple - checking your plans.

“Finally crawled out of bed sleepyhead?” Cassian teased, letting the door shut behind him.

“Ha-ha, very funny flyboy.” You felt him place a hand on the chair and tried to ignore the way that you really - really - liked the way his fingers lightly tapped patterns on your back.

He leaned over you, grabbing one of the papers scattered about. “Are these the plans?”

“Right on flyboy. It’s simple enough technology really. Should just take about five minutes.”

“So you break in, I’ll cover you?”

“Sounds good. Although, I really don't know why they needed the two of us for this,” you mused, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. You turned around then to face Cassian, not realizing just how close you were in proximity. If you leaned forward just a bit, you could clearly count every single one of his eyelashes.

Cassian coughed awkwardly, taking a step back. You felt your heart sink a bit at that. “Maybe that’s why they sent the two of us.” You raised an eyebrow in confusion. “You know, the mission is so simple yet crucial that by sending the two of us it just ensures that we succeed.” You hummed in agreement.

“I guess that makes sense.” Cassian seemed satisfied that you bought his theory. “What’s the contact's name that we’re meeting? I didn’t get a chance to look at the schedule Mon made.”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Did you go straight back to your equations?” You nodded sheepishly. He just laughed. “Organa.”

“Bail?”

“Apparently.”

“Then why the hell did Mon make such a big deal of both of us going to Coruscant if the contact that’s helping us get through is literally Bail fucking Organa.” Cassian shrugged while you shook your head in confusion. “It just doesn't make sense. I’ve known Bail since I was a kid, I could’ve done this on my own.”

“Maybe-” A knock on the door quickly shut you both up.

“Mr. Carillo?” The two of you looked in between each other, sharing a mutual look of slight panic.

“Just a second!” Cassian shouted, helping you to (carefully) shove your papers back into your bag. You quickly ran from the desk, jumping onto the bed to make it look as though you had been there the whole time.

Cassian opened the door, trying to make it look as if he and his “wife” weren’t just discussing Rebellion plans in an area surrounded by Imperial soldiers. “Yes?”

“Your driver will be outside to take you and your wife to the event in an hour sir,” the bellhop said.

Cassian nodded. “Perfect, thank you.” When the door shut, you both let out a sigh of relief. It was at that moment that you realized just how pretty Cassian looked. Sure, the man was attractive overall, and annoyingly handsome in his flight suit, but this? In a fancy get up the man was pretty, and it flustered you so.

“Like what you see?” Cassian teased, noticing how your eyes had been scanning over him for far too long.

“Keep dreaming, flyboy.”

~~~~~

“I don’t think I can do this,” you said, nearly stopping. You had felt confident enough until you arrived at the event, fearing that your cover could be easily blown.

“You’re going to be fine. It’s simple, remember? You said it yourself,” Cassian explained, gently squeezing your hand that was wrapped around his arm.

“Yeah, the breaking through the part of the system, not the undercover part.”

He gave you a small smile, the ones you noticed were reserved just for you, or rather for Wren Carillo. “Do you trust me?”

“Debatable.”

“Perfect. Just follow my lead then.” You gave him a timid nod, tightening your grip on his arm. He maneuvered you two through the swaths of people, avoiding eyes and keeping a pace as to not draw suspicion. 

“Ah, Mr. Carillo!” Bail Organa practically shouted, coaxing you and Cassian over. He shook Cassian’s hand. “And the ever-lovely Mrs. Carillo.” He added with a hint of flair, taking your hand as well.

You let out a fake chuckle, one that made your insides cringe. “You’re too kind, Senator.” 

“Come this way. I want you two to meet my wife,” Bail explained, coaxing you towards a secluded corner. “She’s just here, around the corner. Not a huge fan of all this grandeur.”

“She’s certainly right on that one,” Cassian said, playing the role of Callum effortlessly. If he didn’t look so good at that moment, the jealousy you normally felt would’ve easily overcome you.

Bail led you far enough away from the center of attention to not be easily overheard, but not too far as to raise some eyebrows.

“You look well Y/N,” Bail said, alerting you and Cassian that you were safe enough to drop the names, but not quite the facades.

“So do you. How’s Leia doing?” You had met the girl a few times when she was very little, a baby stumbling around Alderaan.

He let out a chuckle at the mention of his daughter. “She’s good. And how have you been? Mon tells me you two are causing quarrels left and right.”

“I think she’s being a little dramatic,” Cassian mumbled, his arm that was wrapped around your waist pulling you in a little tighter. 

“It’s more on him than anything.” You looked over to Cassian, his eyes meeting yours. There was a slight crackle in his eyes, a crinkle that could’ve been born from nothing other than a smile. The more time you spent near him on Coruscant the more you wanted to be back in your self-made seclusion on Yavin.

“Glad to hear Mon is still managing you as effectively as she did when you were young,” Bail laughed.

“Was she always this stubborn?” Cassian asked. You swatted at his chest.

“More so, if you can believe it,” Bail smiled. His eyes quickly flit around the room, scanning the crowded room. “I believe I am supposed to be aiding the Carillos?” He questioned, quickly changing the subject.

You stood up a bit straighter. “I believe so.”

“You’re going to need to meet with-”

“Who said anything about meeting someone?” Cassian instantly butted in, as you scrunched your eyes in confusion.

“I wasn’t able to get the information out of him myself,” Bail explained, his face instantly setting into the hard lines you remembered the man had. You let out a sigh while Cassian frowned. “Captain Elliot Tripe is your guy.”

“One of us?” You questioned. Bail shook his head.

“Not an ideal situation, but the only way to get the information you need.”

“Why couldn’t you get the information?” Cassian asked in his usual standoff-ish manner. 

“I had full intentions of getting you the plans, but I was caught in meetings all day.” Bail pointed to a man standing across the room, a glass of wine sat firmly in his hand. “I’ve been sending people all night to get him intoxicated enough to the point where he’ll give you whatever you want. His resolve is rather weak.”

“Noted,” he mumbled. You were a little disappointed that the mission wasn’t as simple as you thought it to be but then got annoyed with your disappointment quickly. Nothing about your situation was easy. Rebellions never were.

“Thank you for all your help Bail,” you said, reaching over to shake his hand, a signal to any possible people watching that their conversation had ended.

“May the force be with you both,” he replied, a small smirk gracing his face. With a brief shake of Cassian’s hand, he made his way back into the heavy swaths of people. Once he was far enough away, you let out a sigh.

“You okay?” Cassian asked, turning your body to face him directly, hands grasped tightly within his own. 

“Just getting ready to charm the hell out of that drunken Captain,” you said.

“I think I’m more of a Captain than he is,” Cassian grumbled.

“Oh, is someone jealous?”

“Now you just sound ridiculous.”

“Oh, Maker you are!” 

“Me? Jealous of an Imp? Did K-2 hit you in the head when I wasn’t paying attention or something?”

“Or something,” you said with a smile, enjoying the way your small comment ruffled his feathers.

His eyebrows scrunched up in annoyance, but his eyes told a whole other story. They looked oh so soft and enticing, that you didn’t think about your next action.

You took a step closer to him, leaning over to reach his ear. “If it’s worth anything I think you’re much better looking, Captain,” you whispered, dropping your voice lower strategically on the last move. You pressed a quick peck on his cheek, before stepping back. His eyes were blown wide open in shock, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to suppress a giggle. You turned around to walk back into the group of people, maneuvering your arms to place yours in his.

“I like the way Captain sounds coming from you, sweetheart,” he mumbled under his breath. It was now your turn to be caught off guard, keeping your eyes locked in on the contact before you in an attempt to not get overly flustered. Curse Cassian and his ability to almost make you forget that this whole thing going on between the two of you wasn’t just an act. You heard him let out a soft laugh as you approached the man.

“Captain Tripe?” You asked in a voice so sickly sweet that Cassian nearly burst out laughing.

“And who might you be, you gorgeous thing?” He asked, pupils blown out nearly to the edge of the galaxy.

“Wren Carillo, Captain.” You grabbed his hand out of courtesy, immediately regretting it due to his oddly sweaty palms. He bent down lavishly, kissing your hand exaggeratedly.

This was going to be harder than you initially thought.

“Please, just Elliot is fine,” he said, eyes locked directly onto you, completely ignoring Cassian. You felt his grip on you adjust, his hand leaving your own and choosing to wrap itself protectively around you. 

“I’m her husband, Callum,” Cassian said. Elliot barely spared a glance at the man next to you, giving him a curt nod before turning his attention back to you. You felt Cassian tense up beside you.

“What can I help you with then?” Elliot asked.

“I was wondering if you could tell me a little bit about the communication towers on Coruscant,” you said, instantly regretting it the moment the words spilled from your mouth. You could practically sense Cassian’s annoyance radiating off him.

“Those old things?” 

“What my wife means to say,” Cassian interjected, placing a notable emphasis on certain words that caused an unheard-of effect on you, “is that she is very interested in how these sorts of mechanisms work.”

“Really?” Elliot scoffed. “A pretty little thing like you, interested in how those pieces of shit work?” 

You inwardly groaned, knowing what you were about to do was absolutely beneath you, but the easiest way to get this job done. “Oh you know, it’s more so of an excuse to hang out with you, Captain.” You felt Cassian’s fingers dig into your side as Elliot’s eyes lit up and darkened all at once.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he said, standing up a little straighter, dusting off the ends of his uniform. “Shall we,” he asked, extending his hand outward. Suppressing a grimace, you stepped away from Cassian’s grip as you took Elliot’s hand. You tried to ignore the way your heart dropped a bit when you couldn’t feel his presence anymore.

You let out a fake laugh as Elliot led you away to the bar. You turned around to face Cassian, his eyes speaking a thousand words. He glanced over the side, not far from where Elliot was leading you, as a sign. A sign that he was there and close, should things go drastically south. You gave him a slight nod in return, turning your attention back to the man who had a strangely harsh grip on you.

“So,” Elliot began once the two of you were seated, “interested in the way the towers work, huh?”

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you were about to have.

“I’ve always been interested in the way these systems work,” you explained, politely taking the drink he gave you. 

“Well you came to the right guy then,” he puffed his chest out in pride, and you almost laughed at how ridiculous he looked. “I’m in charge of managing those oldies.”

“Wow, that’s incredible,” you said, letting out what felt like your millionth fake laugh of the night. “Could you tell me a little about them?” You asked, reaching under your layers to grab the recording device, turning on it as you moved it; a spot hidden enough to not be seen but visible enough to pick up the information.

An hour - twenty-seven minutes - later, you had let out your millionth - twenty-first - fake laugh of the night. The conversation about the towers had ended ten minutes ago, but there was no clear way for you to make it out of their conversation. You had glanced around the room for Cassian, but he was nowhere to be found. Now, you were stuck listening to Elliot’s conversations about himself. And nothing but himself.

“That’s when I shot that Rebel scum right in the head,” he said. Your eyes snapped back to his face.

“Wow, that’s, wow.”

“I know, pretty impressive right,” he boasted. 

“Very.”

“Wren?”

“Yes?”

“Could I kiss you now?”

Well, that certainly got your attention.

“What?”

“I asked, didn’t I? That’s what a gentleman is supposed to do.”

“Captain Tripe, I’m very happily married I’m afraid,” you said, rather flustered as your eyes quickly began scanning the room again for any sign of Cassian. Where the hell did that man go?

“If you were ‘very happily married’ you wouldn’t be sitting here with me, now would you?” He said, leaning dangerously close. 

“I’m afraid you simply stumbled onto an inquisitive married woman,” you said, throwing the word “married” in there even though it made no sense. 

He scooted his chair in closer. “Your husband doesn’t have to know,” Elliot whispered, the smell of various alcohol combined on his breath blasting directly into your face.

“Her husband doesn’t have to know what?” Oh, thank the Maker.

“Callum!” You shouted, voice laced with relief. 

“Your wife here was just about to kiss me,” Elliot mumbled, his tone laced with disappointment and frustration. 

“Like this?” Without sparing even a second, Cassian grabbed your face, smashing his lips into yours. Even though you were caught completely off guard, you played along well. You moved your lips against his, nearly forgetting the fact that this was all pretend.

“I can’t have anything,” Elliot grumbled childishly, stumbling out of his seat and back into the thick crowd of people. Once he was gone, Cassian broke the kiss, eyes quickly darting over your face.

“Are you alright?” He questioned, concern laced in his tone.

You nodded. “Just tired.” 

“Should we head to bed then darling?” You just nodded again, head reeling from the combination of a mind-numbing conversation with an Imperial officer and the stunt that Cassian had just pulled.

Grabbing his hand, you squeezed it three times. A signal. You got what you two needed. You could safely leave.

You were both quiet the entire ride back to the hotel.

“Did you get it?” Cassian asked once you were both safely inside. You practically tossed the device onto the bed.

“Yeah, I got it. What the hell was that back there, flyboy?” You practically shouted, turning around to face the man. He looked shocked, and you nearly scoffed.

“What are you talking about?”

“You left me alone, Cassian. I was looking for you for what felt like hours to get me out of there and I couldn’t find you,” you said, teetering on spilling out months of repressed emotions. The alcohol you had consumed with Elliot had made you more tipsy than you initially anticipated it would, and you could feel your words coming out faster than your brain could work.

“I didn’t leave you alone, I was there for you in the end wasn’t I?” He said, looking at you with a wild look of confusion in his eyes.

“Well, yeah, but then you did that stupid, stupid kiss without even asking me?”

His gaze softened. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads up. I just needed the quickest way to get you out of there and that was the easiest option.”

“It wasn’t very fair.”

“Are you seriously angry about that? Y/N, we got the information, it was relatively quick and painless, I don’t see what your issue is,” he said, sounding rather exasperated. 

“Forget it, Cassian, I’m just tired,” you grumbled, annoyed that you were mad at him about something as stupid and minuscule as a kiss. It was just part of your job, you didn’t even like the man. 

At least you thought so. 

You were certain you didn't like him. But that was before the line between fiction and reality started blurring way more than you would’ve liked.

“Y/N.”

“What,” you snapped.

“What happened back there?”

“Nothing.”

“Did he say something to you? Because if I’m missing something then-”

“He didn’t say anything, Cassian.”

“Then why are you so worked up over the kiss-”

“I didn’t want you to kiss me like that!” You shouted.

Oh.

It was out in the open now.

Curse that alcohol.

And, fuck Cassian Andor.

“What?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

He took a step forward. Oh, was that man playing the dangerous game.

“Say it again.”

“Don’t humiliate me any further, Cassian, please,” you begged.

Another step.

“Y/N.”

Curse those puppy dog eyes.

“I’m not saying a damn thing Andor.”

“There she is,” he smiled. The damn nickname. Oh, was he good at noticing things. No wonder Mon sent him on missions like these all the time.

Another step.

“How did you want me to kiss you?” He asked. “Because if that wasn’t good enough I think I’m losing my gift.”

“Cassian-”

“Sure it was rushed, but I didn’t think it was half bad,” he joked.

Another step.

If one of the two of you reached your hand out you would’ve touched each other.

“I wanted it to be you.”

“What?”

“You, you idiot.” He didn’t say anything, giving you a look of pure confusion.

“Cassian. I wanted it to be Cassian Andor. Not Callum Carillo,” you mumbled, absolutely mortified that this whole ordeal was going down in this way. 

He started laughing. Quietly at first, but it quickly grew uncontrollable to the point where you couldn’t help but laugh back. “What’s so funny?” You asked.

“You like me.”

“I do not.”

“You definitely do.”

“You’re the one who was getting jealous earlier.”

“That was different.”

“And how was that different, Captain.” That was his breaking point. Cassian stepped forward, closing the tiny gap between the two of you as he grabbed your face in his hands once again. Gentler, this time, savoring every moment.

Your lips moved against each other in unison, as hands frantically moved around in an attempt to find a prime position. Between little gasps for air, your hands had settled in his hair, tangled within the brown strands. His arms had found a home on your hips, pulling you in impossibly closer. You broke away eventually, leaning your forehead against his own. The two of you laughed, and it was the sweetest noise that could’ve ever graced your ears.

“So you don’t hate me, huh?” He asked, a teasing grin on his face. 

“Shut up, Cass.”

“A new one?” He asked, stepping back to gain a full look at your face. You had never seen him so happy before, and your heart swelled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“Can we just go to bed, please?”

“Gladly.”

The two of you fell asleep on the bed, a tangled bundle of limbs. 

K-2 would never let you two hear the end of this.

~~~~~

The next day was silent.

Literally.

K-2 did in fact let you guys hear the end of it because he never found out.

The two of you didn’t speak a word to each other for the entire rest of the mission.

Your heart ached in confusion. Maybe you were right, the whole thing was just a ruse from the night before. Every time you glanced over at Cassian, his eyes wouldn’t meet your own.

You quickly broke through the towers - the mission was as simple as you expected - and the entire flight back to Yavin was filled with nothing but K-2’s nonsensical yapping.

When you landed on Yavin, you realized you had never felt more relieved to be grounded. You could go back to avoiding Cassian, and any proximity the two of you had would be gone.

You quickly grabbed your bag, moving to step out onto the tarmac as your eyes met Mon’s.

“Y/N, wait!” Cassian called as you made a move to step off the ship.

“Not now, Andor,” you mumbled, leaving the ship and making your way to Mon, stopping every so often to say hi to someone you knew.

“How did it go?” Mon asked, pulling you into a brief hug.

“Fine,” you said curtly. Mon’s eyebrows raised in confusion. “I got through the towers just fine. Bail or whoever the hell wants to can send a signal just fine through them for the foreseeable future.”

“That’s great, thank you,” Mon said sincerely. “But what about Ca-”

“May I be excused? I’m tired,” you said, cutting Mon off. Mon looked at you with confusion once again but nodded.

You made a beeline for your room, feeling a combination of the strangest emotions. Confusion, frustration, relief, and hopelessness all rolled into one giant ball.

Entering your room, you threw your bag down. Once you had showered and changed, you flopped onto your bed, not daring to move a muscle until it was time for the mission debrief the following day. Shutting your eyes, you tried your best to not think about those beautiful brown eyes and that charming smile.

~~~~~

Days - hours - later, you heard a loud banging on your door. Groaning, you trudged your way over to the door. 

Opening the door, you didn’t even bother to spare a glance as to who was waiting on the other side, “Mon, I will swear on everything I hold dear but it is not tomorrow-”

“Hi.”

It was Cassian.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were Mon,” you mumbled sheepishly. 

He let out a halfhearted chuckle, “I figured.” An awkward silence enveloped the two of you, as you scanned his eyes for any hint as to why he showed up at your door. “Can I come in?” You stepped to the side in response, letting him in. You didn’t realize just how messy all of your things were until he had stepped in. God, it was annoying that you cared so much about what he thought.

“What is it now, Andor?” You sighed, sounding drained.

“Maybe the fact that you won’t talk to me?”

You scoffed. “I won’t talk to you? Cassian, you haven’t even looked at me since this morning.”

“Oh, well that’s rich,” he said, his eyes filling up with something that wasn’t quite anger but not quite mirth either.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Y/N, I’ve waited months for a sign from you, any sign that you didn’t hate me-”

“Cassian, I never hated you.”

“-and now when I get that sign you decide to just be quiet. How is that supposed to make me feel?” You could see it now. He wasn’t mad at you. He was just confused, and maybe a little bit scared in the same way that you were.

“I thought that you were mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because you haven’t looked at me once since the kiss Cassian!” You shouted. “You kiss me like I’ve never been kissed before, look at me like I hung all the stars in the galaxy, and then the next day you won’t even look at me! Do you see why I would possibly be a bit confused?”

“Well, maybe I was just scared!”

“Well, maybe I’m scared too! Did you ever think about that, Cass?”

Silence. Well, that got out in the open easily.

“Okay,” he mumbled.

“Okay.”

His eyes were filled with a vulnerability that you had never seen before, and that scared you more than your heated confession of fear had.

“What was the real reason Mon sent us together?” You asked.

“What?” He asked.

“Oh don’t play coy Cass. We’ve all been saying it since we got this assignment; I could’ve done it alone, you could’ve done it alone, literally any of us could’ve done it alone. Hell, practically all I’ve heard from K-2 the past few days is how stupid it was for the two of us to go,” you explained, crossing your arms. It was your turn to start moving forward, and so you took a step.

“I didn’t want you to go alone,” he mumbled, nearly inaudible. 

“Why? Did you not think I was capable of something so simple?” You knew that wasn’t true. But you wanted to hear him say it. That way you couldn’t delude yourself into thinking you imagined this whole thing.

“You know that’s not why. I think you’re the best of us, you know that, literally everybody here knows that I think that.”

Another step.

“Then why did you ask Mon to send the both of us?”

“Do I have to say it?”

“Yes.”

Another step.

“I can’t lose you.”

“Cassian…”

“I’ve lost too many people to this damn Rebellion and I’ll be damned if I lose you to something as simple as an undercover mission in Coruscant,” he admitted, looking almost pained as he did so.

Another step.

“So then why didn’t you just suggest someone else go other than me?” You asked.

“Is it a crime to want to spend time with you?” He questioned, giving off a half-hearted laugh.

“You didn't think it would be easier to just ask me?”

This time he let out a real laugh. “And you think you would’ve been okay with that?”

“Touché.” It was your turn to laugh.

Another step.

If one of the two of you reached your hand out you would’ve touched each other.

“What now?” He asked quietly, giving the floor to you.

You shrugged. 

“Cards are in your hands, Casanova,” you teased.

“Casanova huh?” He smirked, grabbing your hands.

“What can I say, I’m creative,” you smiled so hard you thought your cheeks would fall off.

“Where’d that one come from?”

“That’s a story for a future day, Captain Casanova,” you smirked, enjoying the way he straightened up at your usage of his title. 

“Get over here,” he mumbled, pulling you in for another wonderful kiss.

He sure was a Casanova, alright.

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

we love titles with double meanings here !

anddd once again, thank you so much for reading!! i really hope you enjoyed my silly little nonsense. still debating on how i want the last part to go exactly (oh the beauties of following a canonical rouge one ending or not) but i hope that the finale is worth it hehe

working on the last part right now and i PROMISE it will come out faster (i think, do not quote me on this one i fear)

< prev

[aalghul]

once again thinking about jason as duke’s robin. he’s ~4 years younger than jason, and that puts him at 8-12 during Jason’s time as robin. that’s prime time to get attached to your local kid vigilante before your own life goes downhill.

and if we try to keep duke’s meeting with bruce in zero year + duke’s age (so he can remember the meeting and hold that conversation with bruce), he has to be around 8. if he starts following batman through the news at that time because of the mess that just happened, the robin he sees is probably jason. I’ve literally connected the dots

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Jaing Yanli's bad luck with sauce continues.

[sakuravalenp]

Don't eat anything else - Part 3 - DP X DC

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Masterpost

Sam had somehow fallen asleep after hours of rolling in her bed, so of course, when her phone started ringing, she was just about ready to send the thing flying across the room. She covered her ears with her pillow, hoping the thing would shut up soon enough, and cursed her past self for leaving the phone in her desk instead of plugging it to the socket that was just behind her bed. She could have already shut the thing off then, but no, she’ll have to get out of bed to do it. She was going to maul whoever decided it was a good idea to call in the middle of the night.

With a resigned huff, she got out of bed and went to the desk, stumbling over the chair because of course she hadn’t pushed it back into the space the desk left for it, and snatched the phone roughly, pulling the charger and making her pencil case fall off the desk. The clattering sounds let her know she had also left that open. She groans, and squints at her phone screen, her eyes complaining at the sudden light, she takes a look at the insistent caller: Tucker. She answers while letting herself fall into the chair.

“Tucker, it’s like two am. You better be dying, or I swear to the ancients I’m throwing your beloved PDA into a natural portal to never be seen again!”

“Check the Phantom chat.” Sam blinked. She was expecting some sort of dramatic response. Then her mind caught up to what her friend had just asked.

“Did Danny text anything!?” The call was already being placed on speaker as she took her phone off her ear and started looking for their chat server.

“You’ll have to check yourself, it’s a full text wall, I’ve just read like- the first paragraph. Just- check it out and call me back when you’ve read it all.”

Sam frowned at the beep of the call being ended. She had never hated so much that their server took so long to load. She understood why; a hidden server that went through the infinite realms? Tucker was a genius for creating it. Still, in times like this the waiting was excruciating.

Danny didn’t tell them anything about his life with Vlad. She would say it screamed red flags, but it was Vlad. The moment the man had gotten custody of Danny all the fire alarms were going off in Sam’s head, and they hadn’t stopped since.

They tried not to push much at the start. The Fentons and Jazz’s death was too fresh, so they just checked in, asking how things were going, trying not to prod. But weeks turned to months, and they hadn’t been able to see Danny, and he was not telling them anything.

They had been keeping tabs of what they could get. Danny checked in at least once a day, until he didn’t. There would be days without response, and then Danny would check in again with some vague excuse. When that became common enough, Danny stopped making up excuses and just directly checking in without explaining the absence.

His texts were useless to understand his situation, other than he was well enough to text them, so their next focus was his public appearance. There weren’t a lot of those, but they would be happy with any scraps they could get. 

Vlad had taken Danny to more than a couple of galas and some political events, proudly flaunting his heir, and yet, there were barely any photos of Danny at said events. It was up in the air whether it was due to Vlad avoiding the pictures getting out or due to how difficult it was to get a clear photo of Danny.

Nevertheless, the few pictures they did get weren’t great. He looked emaciated, lost so much weight, lost any brightness in his eyes. Still, Sam had almost cried from relief the first time they got a picture. The mind can be cruel when there's nothing to hold it back, and Sam had about a thousand terrible thoughts of what Vlad could be doing to Danny. At least he was in one piece. 

Her phone vibrated, letting her know the server had finally loaded. There was a bubble beside the Phantom group chat letting her know there were new texts. She pressed on the group chat and was indeed greeted by a wall of text. She scrolled back to find the beginning.

Hey guys, you’ll probably won’t see this until tomorrow but I needed to write this right away before I started doubting. Not that that’s really a choice at this point, not when the Waynes already left with those notes.

The Waynes? Oh, yeah, Danny had mentioned Vlad had invited them to dinner once. First visitors they would be getting. Sam had idly wondered if she would have gotten a chance to see Danny if her parents were more influential. She had never wished for her parents to be richer before. 

So anyway, the Waynes visiting kind of changed things here a bit. I may not have been really honest about how things were going here with Vlad. Though, you probably already knew that, and I’m sorry, but I don’t know if I can tell you guys. I just don’t think I can get myself to tell you, and I’m so sorry, because you’re always there and deserve the truth, but I can’t. So, let’s just leave as things hadn’t been great, and Vlad was more of a monster than we ever thought he could be. 

Sam didn’t like that, it was terribly vague. What had Vlad done to Danny that he didn’t feel he could tell them? Sure they had been dealing with Danny’s silence, but now he was straight up telling them he couldn’t get himself to talk about it. The fact that he couldn’t even explain what Vlad had done meant it was probably worse than what she imagined.

They’d faced their fair share of horrors over the years while combating the rogues, and there had never been a problem verbalizing it. Something horrible had happened. Sam was going to kill Vlad. She didn’t care what the full story was, if it was bad enough that Danny actively refused to tell them, it was bad enough to revoke Vlad’s right to existence. 

The thing is, I can’t keep this up. The Wayne’s came in, and Vlad's plans for dinner made me realize I couldn’t let this keep going. I managed to sneak a note to Timothy Drake-Wayne. Everyone knows the Waynes have connections to the Justice league.

Sam frowned. The Justice League had been shining for their absence from everything involving Amity. That absence still burned like acid. They’d begged for help. Pleaded. Amity had become a warzone more than once, and no one had come. Would they really show up just because the Waynes got involved?

I know they hadn’t been answering our calls, but now it affected the Waynes. Again, I can’t explain how it affected them, but I’m pretty sure the Waynes will make sure the Justice League gets involved. I had to tell them that Vlad isn’t human. It would only end in an apocalypse if they came looking for Vlad without being prepared. They’ll look for you guys. I told them you had the means to combat him. 

Oh shit. Was she really meeting with the Justice League? In friendly terms? After all the ignored calls, Sam had swore it would be on sight if she ever met the assholes. And if they really showed up just because the Waynes were the ones to call, Sam wasn’t sure if she could keep it civil.

I didn’t reveal myself to the Waynes, I don’t know what the Justice League stand on ghosts is, all this is already a big risk, the GIW are bad enough on their own, there’s no way we would survive the Justice League hunting us, but Vlad needs to be stopped. I need you guys to give them what they need to not be possessed, and the ectoguns that I modified, maybe an ectoshield. Nothing more, they have a good history with non-humans, but I don’t know if we can trust them to not start a hunting campaign after Vlad. Try making it clear that this is a Vlad problem, not a ghost problem. I’m sorry I’m leaving everything to you guys, I can’t do anything from this side.

Her breath trembled. If the Waynes were really able to convince the Justice league to finally intervene, they might have days. She and Tucker needed to prep everything.

Ghost attacks had become rare since the portal was destroyed, but sometimes ghosts still came through naturally forming ones. There couldn’t be a ghost attack while the Justice League was there. Not when they needed to convince them that Vlad was the exception, not the rule.

They needed to get the gear and figure out how to lie to the Justice League convincingly enough that they wouldn’t turn every ghost into collateral damage.

Because Vlad might be the monster. But the League could still be the executioners.

Still, despite all the anxiety running through her veins, Sam felt hopeful. Danny had reached for help, after months of silence he had finally reached for help, and for once there seemed to be a chance they'd see Danny again. 

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

They couldn’t continue reading the paper right away. There was no way to do it. Cass was more sensitive to people's deaths than anyone else in her family, and Bruce had focused on supporting her so he wouldn’t have to think about what he had just eaten. He had helped Cass to the bathroom like he hadn’t vomited as well. Tim had mumbled something about needing a shower, a really long shower, and left. Jason had forgotten the pretender had been bathed in that cursed soup.

He did think about taking the paper and finishing reading it himself, but green edged his vision, rage bursting under the skin, and he needed an outlet, which he didn’t have here. The punch he had thrown onto the wall had already left a mark, and this was a house they rented as Waynes, he couldn’t just trash it all.

He had worked through some breathing exercises Dick had introduced to him. He’ll never tell Dick, but they did work somewhat. It wasn’t really a surprise, Jason knew Dick had anger issues. The bastard seemed like the perfect young adult holding it together these days, but Jason was there for his teenage rebellion, and that was supposedly an improvement from how he had been as Robin. So of course the breathing exercises helped, but it wasn’t enough.

He felt like giving the wall another punch from the frustration, but he had been trying to “redirect his anger” in less violent ways lately, and this was the kind of situation where it would be better to clear his head instead of exploding. He could save the explosion for when they had that reprobate on their hands. 

His phone was pinging and Jason knew it was probably the rest of the family asking for an update. The sudden silence probably got them worried the supposed poison had been something serious, and as the only one in commission at the moment, he should be the one reporting, but he was pretty sure he would crack his phone if he used it right then. His helmet took his attention where it resided on the desk, and he made a decision.

You’re not supposed to ride while you're angry, that’s how accidents happen, but that didn’t apply to people like him. Red Hood spent most of the night in his motorcycle while absolutely furious; they knew how to ride without becoming a public safety issue. 

He grabbed his helmet and screamed before putting it on. “You better don’t read the damn note before I’m back!” And then he was on the road once again. 

He rode around the small city, making the same circle over and over again at maximum speed. Harsh changes in direction that made the adrenaline pump in his veins. It was a good outlet. At some point the green receded enough for him to think clearer. He lowered the speed a bit, and connected his helmet to the comms. The questioning screams from everyone on comms came instantly.

“Shut the fuck up. I can’t understand a single thing you are saying.” As expected, that didn’t have any effect, but a minute later the line went dead silent. Babs must have muted everyone's lines. 

“Hood, what’s the situation? Did the antidote work without problem?” Babs asked.

Jason almost laughed. Antidote. They wished it had just been some stupid poison. “It wasn’t poison, or drugs, Batman and Orphan are… physically fine.”

There was a moment of silence, then Jason could hear the crackle of a line joining the comms again. “What does that mean Todd?” Damian finally asked.

Jason could feel the rage try to creep back at the thought of what really was in the food, he pushed it back. He didn’t want to really talk about what really was in the food. Another crackle. “Little wing? What was in the food?” 

Jason sighed. Why should he be the only one in commission to report back? No, he was glad to not have been anywhere close to that hideous concoction that didn’t have a right to be called food. He turned the speed back up.

“Apparently, Vlad Masters is a cannibal. One in the habit of sharing his taste with others.” The silence in the other line was about what he expected, so was the new explosion of voices that came afterward. 

Yeah, no. Report given. They could deal with the news themselves. Jason disconnected from comms and started riding back to the house. Checking the time on the edge of his helmet screen, he saw he had been riding for quite some time. How has two hours already passed? 

He left the motorcycle in the garage. There was no one there, so Jason wandered inside. He found Tim was sitting on the sofa with his laptop in the living room, the note folded beside him. Bruce sat on a chair beside him still looking pained. Jason talked from the door.

“Did you actually wait for me?”

Tim shrugged and without taking his eye off. “Figured it would be better to read once we were all here.”

“Where’s Cass?” He asked, walking to the opposite side of the couch.

“She asked to be filled in later.” Bruce answered. “It’s better we read the rest of the note already. I can’t imagine what else Danny would like us to know.”

Tim sighed, like someone had asked him to be the one to read the letter instead of him being the one to take it upon himself. He took the note, unfolding it again, and Jason could see he was making an effort to ignore the first line.

“I don’t know who the victims are, or where Vlad gets them, but they’re recently deceased. So somewhere there must be people disappearing constantly. It may not be the same place all the time, or it may not even be the same city. Vlad isn’t human.”

“Fucking great. Just what we were missing. What is it this time? A vampire? He definitely has the aesthetic going for him.” The pretender glared at him for the interruption, but Jason thinks the situation fully justifies his reaction.

Bruce sighed. “Language. Please, go on, Tim.”

“He’s a kind of ghost.” Tim raised an eyebrow but continued reading. “I know it may be hard to believe for outsiders, but ghosts are pretty much a common occurrence in Amity Park.”

“I thought that was just a tourist trap.” Jason commented, which gained him another glare from Tim. Jason didn’t bother to acknowledge it, though, inside, he was quite enjoying getting the little shit annoyed.

Tim huffed, and lowered the note a bit before commenting. “There are quite a few claims of ghost sightings, but we couldn’t find any proof of them when we took a look at Amity while searching for a house to rent.” He turned to the computer and started typing something.

“Even then, those reports were not of great importance, mentions of seeing a figure for a couple a seconds in the corner of a room, of a shadow following them around the city, or a pale little kid running around in the cemetery.” Bruce added. “The whole city works around the theme.The biggest school is called Casper High, and most attractions are named after ghost-related puns. We concluded it was, in fact, a tourist trap.”

“So what, the kid is imagining his guardian isn’t human? Making things up to cope with the fact that he is a cannibal? That-”

“Um. Bruce, you might want to see this.” Tim interrupted him.

His eyes were wide, scanning quickly through a webpage. Jason moved close to see the screen, and so did Bruce, standing up from his chair to lean over the back of the sofa. Tim started reading titles while he passed the mouse over them. 

“Octo-Ghost Assists Kindergarten Party and Almost Becomes The Birthday Girl's Pet. First Ghost Attack of the Week in Casper High, Red huntress Captures It Before It Can Disrupt Class. Ghost Known as Lunch Lady Visits Local Restaurant and Asks for a Cooking Battle With the Owner: See the Unexpected Results. Don’t You Miss When Ghosts Would Interrupt Class at Least Once a Day? A ranting blog by Phan_number1. None of this existed when we were checking Amity!”

“How is that even possible? The Batcomputer should have pinged something if there was anything blocking the information,” Bruce says in what sounded like a monotone voice, but any of his kids could tell he’s alarmed by the fact that so much information was successfully hidden from the Batcomputer. “Try sending a link to Babs.”

Tim goes ahead to do that with the ranting blog, but honestly, Jason couldn’t care less if the oh-so-great Batcomputer missed this.

“So the kid isn’t making things up, great. Can you both have your freak-out about the information blockage after we finish reading the note?” If Tim were a super, Jason would have a hole on his front, he’s sure of it.

Babs: Why are you sending me a recipe for making ghost-themed pie?

Tim looks at the message in disbelief, and clicks on the link he had sent. The ranting blog opens, no pie recipe to be seen. Tim takes a screenshot and tries sending it, but a warning message appears, saying the file is corrupted. He tries to send an image of his gallery, it goes without any problems.

“This is weird. It’s not like any kind of blockage we had seen before. It even redirects links to a page that matches the city's theme.”

“Try sending the image through the Bat server.” Bruce says with a voice that it was more serious than Jason expected, which makes him glance back at the man. 

Bruce is glaring at the computer with a dark expression. Realization hits Tim, and he quickly tries to send the image through the Bat server. It goes through, and even Jason feels relieved at the received checkmark. 

“Okay… okay. So they’re monitoring private conversations, but the Bat server is still safe.” Tim murmurs. Then goes ahead and tries sending the link once more, with a message saying it should open the website shown in the image. 

Oracle: All that link opens is the pie recipe Red Robin. If this is some kind of joke, you know the Bat server is not for that.

Tim rolls his eyes at the response and starts writing down a response, explaining the situation to Babs.

“The link must be blocked by IP Address. Tell her to try using a residential proxy.”

“Already on it.”

Jason hates when the old man understands more about technology than he does. Damn his time in the grave. He had been working on getting up to date, and he can do some basic hacking and whatnot. Enough that he doesn’t need external help for every little thing. But he’s still so far behind. 

Oracle: I’m in. You’re also seeing all these things about ghosts?

Red Robin: Yes. 

Red Robin: Somehow they have the city under a blockage that the Batcomputer wasn’t able to detect.

“Okay. Babs can take care of investigating that. We have a note to finish reading, remember?” Jason says, reaching for the paper Tim had left beside the computer, which Tim promptly snatches back. “Hey!”

“You won’t read it outloud for everyone.”

“According to whom!?”

“Kids…” Bruce sighed, “Continue reading, please, Tim.”

The little shit looked smug for a second before going back to the note.

“Please understand that in general ghosts aren’t bad, it’s just Vlad. But ghosts are powerful, and Vlad is really powerful. This can’t be resolved through normal means. I know the Waynes have contact with the Justice League, so I ask you to please get in contact with them, and don’t get anymore involved. I doubt the Justice league is equipped for the type of ghosts we have in Amity park. My friends Samantha Mason and Tucker Foley know where to find specialized weaponry and protective devices. Please, convince the Justice League to go for them first, it would be a disaster if one of the Justice League was overshadowed by Vlad.” That’s where the letter ended.

“Overshadow?” Bruce echoed.

Tim wasted no time putting the word into Google, which, now that Jason noticed, was decorated with little ghosts. Did Amity have its own Google doodle? The definition of the word popped like any other word would, and Jason wondered if that was something else that was blocked outside the city.

“It seems to be how Amity Parkers refer to possession.” Tim said after skimming the definition.

“What do we know about Samantha Mason and Tucker Foley?” Bruce asked, already in work mode.

“Not much, outside of being known friends of Danny. The Masons are a well positioned family in Amity; they’re new money. Izzy Manson, Samantha's great grandfather, invented a machine that twirled cellophane around deli toothpicks, the patent and inheritance placed the family where it is today. Pamela Manson owns a jewelry brand that’s grown in popularity in the Midwestern elite, while Jeremy Manson is a real estate developer. They often attend galas in Wisconsin, and sometimes in other big cities. Samantha Mason is a known teen activist, and has had her fair share of incidents at galas.” Tim said, as he opened the report he had made before coming to Amity.

“Incidents?” Jason asked.

“She has a sharp tongue and doesn’t seem interested in keeping appearances. It’s well known she isn’t fond of the styles her mother gives her for the galas. In any photo she posted on her personal accounts in the last two years, she has a gothic aesthetic.”

“Ah.”

“There’s less about Tucker Foley. His mother, Angela Foley, works as a chef at a local restaurant called “A Ghost's Secret Recipe.” His father, Maurice Foley, is an IT technician for the city government. Tucker seems to take after his father in his interest in technology, and has a history of winning local programming contests.”

“There’s nothing that really screams “I know how to fight ghosts and have ghost weaponry” is there?” Jason comments.

“Well, this is the information we have while searching with the city's information being blocked. Search for Daniel Fenton on the web,” Bruce says, and when Tim enters the name, a lot of news articles come to light. “We should have suspected something when there weren’t a lot of news articles talking about an explosion taking the life of a whole family.” Tim nods to that.

Jason frowns at the screen. “Are you seeing these titles? Local ghost hunters die from mysterious explosions? Something tells me that the access to weaponry has more to do with Danny’s parents than anything about Samantha and Tucker.” 

“What did we have about the Fentons from the investigation in Gotham?”

“They were supposedly part of the tourist industry, “entertaining tourists with street shows about ghost hunting.” We were literally blocked from one of the most important details of Danny’s life.” Tim groaned. 

Bruce sighed. “Let’s try getting some sleep. We’ll try meeting Samantha and Tucker tomorrow in the late afternoon.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Late afternoon?”

“They’re teenagers. I would prefer to interrupt their class time or disturb them too late. They might not even know we plan to meet with them.”

Tim nodded, already starting with the new background check. “I doubt Masters lets Danny have his own phone.”

Jason unceremoniously closed Tims laptop, putting it aside and carrying the kid in a firefighter carry.

“Trying to rest applies to you too.”

Tim protested as he trashed, trying to get him to let go, and if the pretender had actually been serious about it, Jason may have not been able to keep a hold of him.

“I’ll tell Babs to leave the investigation for tomorrow as well. You’ll have time before we go meet Danny’s friends, so let’s rest for some time first, okay?” Bruce said with that voice he always used when he was treating them like little kids. And if Jason found it soothing, that was between his mind and himself.

Tim groans, but relaxes, accepting defeat, and the kid is asleep before Jason even makes it out the living room. Jason wonders, not for the first time, if Tims ability to basically sleep anywhere, anyway, anytime, would go away if the kid actually followed the sleeping schedule Bruce and Alfred tried imposing, instead of taking random naps around the clock. 

He’s sure the little shit will be back in front of the computer in 30 minutes. Whatever. He already did his mandatory older sibling duty by getting him to stop for a nap. 

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Next part

[benevolenterrancy]

I absolutely love just how many time-travel fix-it fics there are in this fandom

[c-kiddo]

from a while ago, transfem cad bathhouse art i mentioned before. i just like drawing people doing simple domestic things i think