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#thank the force for Andor
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Star Wars has always been about fighting fascism but it just feels so real now.
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juicyspacesecrets · 2 years
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Happy Saint Valentine’s Day!
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merrysithmas · 1 year
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no offense but Luke THEE Skywalker should be the one doing everything filoni makes his OCs do
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kalikoris · 1 year
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HAHAHAHAHA THIS IS INCREDIBLE.
"This base is big enough for the both of us(please be mine)"
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david-talks-sw · 6 months
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I got a good feeling about "The Acolyte"
Not even kidding. Like, I've spoken before about why I'm wary of it.
George Lucas' Star Wars is something that intentionally has black and white morality, rather than shades of gray. Those movies are meant for kids and projecting a "gray" morality onto them then proclaiming it was George's vision all along is doing so in bad faith.
The narrative of the Prequels doesn't frame the Prequel Jedi in as negative a light as Leslye Headland, Dave Filoni, etc etc do.
See here for more details, but bottom line: yeah, a show that has a darksider as the underdog is bound to demonize the Jedi (who are the actual underdogs in the Prequels), and obviously that rubs me the wrong way.
BUT.
The trailer looks fucking cool. It really really does.
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And more importantly? I've done some research... and Leslye Headland is ticking a lot of good boxes, in my book.
1. The Acolyte won't be a 10-hour movie.
I've criticized Disney Plus shows before, explaining that a big source for most of their issues is that these series are being structured as "long movies" rather than, y'know, actual shows.
But in this interview with Collider, Headland addresses that: it'll be a series. Not a long movie that you need to watch across four weeks.
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Thank God. You have no idea how much that comforts me. Finally a showrunner who's, y'know, actually running a show.
And this goes hand in hand with what she told IGN, here, about how she's going about building suspense.
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Yes! Exactly! That's how it's supposed to be!
Like, compare this to Baylan Skoll's storyline in Ahsoka.
In no possible way was that emotionally-fulfilling. For 8 episodes we had no idea what he was after, and the season ended where we still don't know. What does he want? What is he after? Your guess is as good as mine, it's something Mortis-related.
So yeah. Maybe getting the Emmy-nominated trained screenwriter on board to run this was a good idea.
2. Maybe the Jedi will not be as demonized as I originally thought.
Don't get me wrong. 80% of what she says about the Jedi makes me cringe. It's the typical fan's interpretation and y'all know I disagree with that interpretation.
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It's painful to see her refer to the Jedi as an institution (not how the Prequels' narrative frames them) and to see her frame "Balance" in the "oh there's so many of them and just two Sith, that means the Force is out of balance" meaning... but at least she acknowledges the Jedi are a benevolent institution.
They're not an "elitist force hiding in their ivory tower" as others have described the Jedi.
Moreover, there'll be a variety of Jedi POVs, many personalities.
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Yord Fandar, is described as a strictly by-the-book Jedi Knight and guardian from the Jedi Temple, is an overachiever and a rule follower.
The question now becomes: will the narrative frame him as "your typical Jedi" or is it just this one guy? I'm hoping it's the latter.
I also like how her reasoning goes re: Jedi drawing their lightsabers.
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Which explains the hand-to-hand combat seen in the trailer.
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This teenager is coming at Carrie-Ann Moss with a dagger, of course the Jedi won't draw her saber.
3. She's a fan of Star Wars... but a screenwriter first.
You can tell in the interviews she's a fan. She's using words like "BBY" and "EU" casually. In the above-linked interviews she's bringing up the Nightsisters, Timothy Zahn, The Clone Wars, she mentions she has a tattoo of Ralph McQuarrie's concept art of Leia, the High Republic books, etc.
She's done her homework. She's a fan.
But the vibe I'm getting from these interviews is that she's weaving in these various lore-elements in a more organic way, rather than in the "fan-servicey" way Dave Filoni has been doing in his shows.
The references and Easter Eggs will be there, but the narrative won't bend over itself just so you can get it. Crafting a good story comes first, and Andor is a beautiful illustration of why this is true.
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Which is why I was never bothered about one of the writers never having watched Star Wars before getting the job. You need those fresh eyes when you're tackling something of this scale.
That makes sense to me. Maybe it's because of my own screenwriting experience, but yeah. That out-of-the box perspective is precious.
And like, obviously, that writer watched the films eventually, but for some reason everyone who bitched about Headland omitted that detail and opted for a more bad faith interpretation.
Hm. Wonder why.
Maybe it's the same reason that months ago this clipped audio circulated socials without context, in which she debates whether Star Wars only came from George Lucas and only Lucas is the key.
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The FULL context of that interview reveals that she's actually:
debating the "autheur director" myth and positing that it was achieved by a collective of excellent filmmakers and craftspeople that George was skilled and smart enough to recruit...
the studios now think it's a simple as hiring one guy and throwing money at him, because they have no idea what the fuck they're talking about. See Napoleon (2023) for example.
Yes, she also does a jab to the Prequels, which speaks to the generation of fans she's a part of... but overall she's giving Lucas props whilst also stating an ideological difference, that's it!
George is a proponent of the "autheur" theory, Leslye isn't.
However, guess what, in like half the talks George gave post-selling Star Wars? He's giving shoutouts to everyone who helped make the first film, even remembering their names.
So I'm not even sure he'd vehemently disagree with Leslye, in fact they'd prolly have a conversation about it and immediately bitch about how stupid studio executives are :D
But that's not as incendiary, is it? Again, the more I do the research, the more it feels like the reason most of these influencers are hating on her is purely sexist.
I mean, on IGN she's even acknowledging that she does plan on taking stock of fan reactions for Season 2.
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It's not a guarantee that she'll incorporate the feedback, but at least that's more consideration than, say, JJ Abrams or Rian Johnson gave the fandom.
She's even bringing the moral ambiguity that the Gray Jedi-loving edge-lords love so much.
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"No, she's a woke feminist! Anything she does is evil! Eww, girls!"
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Needless to say... I'm gonna give it a shot.
I think it's gonna be a good show, I think it's gonna be a solid story.
I'm crossing my fingers that they won't as biased against the Jedi as it seems they'll be. Even if they are... if it's still an enjoyable experience, I'll gloss over it.
As @gffa states in this post:
Worst case? It's not a story from George. I can dismiss it from my headcanon without a moment's hesitation :D
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colleybri · 9 days
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Cassian Andor taking on an Imperial garrison…
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The subtle use of echoing lines in Andor (frequently right through to Rogue One) is so well done, and one example shows Cassian’s character development very clearly…
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When Cassian is first being briefed by Vel about the heist on Aldhani, he reacts with horror at the news about there being an Imperial garrison nearby. Luthen didn’t mention it, and you get the sense that he might not have agreed to take on the job had he known about this extra danger . But of course, he commits and the heist is a success – of a kind.
But afterwards… he doesn’t want to do anything like that again. He wants to “win and walk away” to “somewhere warm and easy” . The irony is – his actions have helped to inspire Maarva, who refuses to leave Ferrix - while praising the actions of the “brave” “heroes” of Aldhani. She’s just indirectly praised him, and you can see that he’s delighted by a split second little spontaneous smile of pleasure that he quickly suppresses. Ouch. He’s finally done something she could be proud of, but he doesn’t want to give her a reason to stay so he has to stay quiet.
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^ Awww 😞
But what’s really interesting is the editing in this masterful and moving scene. On Maarva’s words ‘If there are heroes brave enough to take on a whole Imperial garrison I’m brave enough to stick it out here” we see the flashback of 13 year old Cassian approaching the Troopers with a cudgel, revealing at long last the details of the assault that landed him in youth prison for three years and Mimban after that. The horrifying execution of Clem combined with the injustice and pain of his own punishment has not just traumatised the adult Cassian, it’s also made him somebody who will now avoid a conflict – and therefore the Rebellion– wherever possible. 
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‘It’s all useless… it’s better to live!’ is what he told Luthen before Aldhani, but the precise placing of the shot here is very telling.
Cassian is starting to subconsciously associate that act with bravery rather than recklessness. He hates the Empire for what they did to Clem but it has so far translated to trying to ‘live’ and ignore them as much as possible; but his teenage self wanted to fight, to get revenge. Nonetheless it was an emotional response, an impulsive act that was not thought through. This is in total contrast to the calm methodical shots of Wilmon Paak preparing the bomb at the start of Episode 12. Wilmon is balancing emotion with rationality in planning his own revenge, in an arc which otherwise is like a replay of Cassian’s own.
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Later in Episode 12 Cassian hears from Brasso his mother’s last words for him - all proof not just of how much she loved him but of how much she knew him too. He does indeed now ‘know everything he needs to know and feel everything he needs to feel’. His reasoning and his emotions are now able to work together to be that ‘unstoppable force for good’. He won’t be making emotional but futile attacks like rushing armed Troopers with a stick anymore. He will think, plan, observe and react. But he will act. He is not going to walk away any more. And he’s not going to leave loved ones behind if he can help it…
…Because in a final bit of lines-linking brilliance - immediately after hearing these words of his mother, Cassian prepares to go into the hotel, via the tunnels she checked were open, to rescue Bix.
Incredulous, Brasso says: “Are you going to take on a whole garrison?”
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And Cassian doesn’t verbally reply. The look says it all. ‘I’ve done it before, twice, l’ll do it again, and I’m doing it now.’
It sums up Cassian’s arc so well. From oppression, to fighting back, to running from the fight, to taking up the fight again (now an even more exact mirror of Jyn Erso’s arc too). But this time… having learnt from experience. One lesson being: teamwork matters…
…Because thanks to Brasso and the riot the Troopers are ordered out of the Rix hotel, which is the Empire’s base. Making it possible for Cassian to extract Bix, with the “Imperial garrison” deployed elsewhere. A technique so effective, it will also be used on Scarif to give Jyn, K2SO and himself a chance to reach the data files.
“Light it up …
..Make ten men feel like a hundred “
And that’s how you make a realistic hero. Cassian is somebody who learns and grows despite some bitter experiences.
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Better deploy that garrison, because Cassian Andor is taking it on.
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r-osehips · 2 years
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another thing I love. LOVEEE. about Andor is that over and over it demonstrates (and with Nemik’s manifesto outright says it) that rebellions, uprisings, are the work of thousands of people.
it’s completely against the “great man” theory of history, the mindset that any successes of a mass movement are thanks to a few brave heroes who stand head and shoulders above “normal”/lesser people. and if you’re not one of those heroes then you don’t make a difference.
Andor and Rogue One illuminate the fact that it’s not just Luke who brings down the Death Star — it’s not even just Luke, Han, and Leia. it’s Cassian and the Rogue One team too. it’s Luthen and the Aldhani crew, including the ones who never made it off Aldhani. it’s the nameless kid in the crowd who throws a bomb at the Imperial soldiers; it’s the marching band and Maarva and the people of Ferrix. it’s the prisoners of Narkina 5 who are forced to build parts to the Death Star but while doing so become radicalized and deal the Empire one of the many blows that will eventually bring it down.
it’s people whose names we’ll never know, not because they’re unimportant — they’re essential — but because there are billions of them across the galaxy and it’s impossible for one story to name them all but Andor never lets you forget that they’re there, never fails to honor their efforts and their sacrifices and their triumphs.
it’s the same in real life. a mass movement is a MASS movement. and it’s beautiful to see a show that not only acknowledges that but celebrates it and makes it a central, foundational theme.
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dameronscopilot · 1 year
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PLEASE can I please request Cassian x fem reader that involves thigh riding and the use of „good girl“ because I‘m a slut for this man
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cassian andor x f!reader
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summary: in which a tight space and Cassian's firm thigh lead to an inevitable outcome. so maybe you don't hate him quite as much as you think you do.
word count: 1.1k
18+
content: NSFW, smut, enemies to lovers vibes, thigh riding, oral fixation, coming untouched, coming in pants, dirty talk (mentions of: unprotected sex, creampies, masturbation)
a/n: i haven't written Cassian in so long, but this idea literally tackled me to the ground and held me hostage the moment i read this ask. thanks nonnie!
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Cassian Andor is the bane of your existence. 
Between his arrogant, reserved nature, his do-or-die attitude, and every stupidly handsome hair on his annoyingly pretty head. 
Fuck him. 
Fuck him and his cocky little smirks and the way he purposely let his beard grow back in just to drive you halfway out of your mind. 
Fuck the way he thinks he can show you up in every flight and blaster drill, only to still have the audacity to give you something akin to bedroom eyes when you pass him on the base late at night. The way he sometimes tilts his head when he looks at you from across the mess hall the next morning, a small smile tugging at his lips—as if he knows the muffled little sounds as you fingered yourself in the privacy of your quarters were his name. 
Over and over and over and—
Fuck his assumption that you’ll let him in, just because you’re as broken as he is. Maybe a little bit more, really. 
It’s these thoughts that are playing like a mantra in your head as you find yourself in a precarious position: wedged in a narrow, inconspicuous trench on the outskirts of an Imperial camp. With nowhere to run and your cover nearly blown in broad daylight, the two of you had no choice but to backtrack and slip into the small, overgrown, and undoubtedly long-forgotten hiding spot to wait for the safety of nightfall. 
And it would be fine—frustrating, but fine—if it weren’t for the fact that the trench was clearly made for one person.
…which is why you’re now awkwardly wedged in Cassian’s lap, straddling one of his thighs and forced to stare at his infuriatingly handsome face far closer than you’d ever allow yourself to on a normal day when you life isn't at risk.
Faced with the option of entirely wrapping your legs around his waist or plopping your ass in his lap, this had initially seemed like the safest choice. But as Cassian groans quietly at the discomfort of the hard dirt beneath him and shifts his body slightly, you quickly realize that this was a losing battle from the start. 
Cassian may look like he’s of average build on the surface, but fuck if he’s not a wall of solid muscle underneath his clothes. In your attempts to avoid eye contact with him, you find yourself distracted by the tendons in his neck, so you’re already mentally scolding yourself when you feel it—the firm, unforgiving press of his thigh against your core. 
Fuck. 
Memories of the way you’d spent the night before leaving for this mission flow into your mind unbidden, despite your best attempts to clear your head. 
Your legs spread wide across your bed, slick arousal painting the inside of your thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you. The delicious stretch of the toy as you eased it into your dripping entrance. 
—how hard you came when you closed your eyes and imagined it was Cassian’s cock splitting you open, legs trembling and fingers shaking as you screamed his name into the pillow. 
Cassian grunts, moving again, and a small gasp escapes your lips at the pressure of the material tugging against your clit. 
“Can you sit still?” you snap, heart fit to burst out of your chest as it treads a frantic beat. 
He’s silent for a moment before moving again, ever so slightly, leaving you helpless but to exhale a sound caught somewhere between a moan and a growl. 
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asks quietly, his breath hot against your ear as you tuck your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. 
Later, you’ll blame it on the fucked up adrenaline rush from the danger surrounding you. How goddamn lonely you’ve been since you joined the Rebellion. The unfair way the rough caress of Cassian’s voice sets each and every nerve ending in your body alight. 
You can think about how much you’re going to regret this later, when you’re not trapped in a trench with a man who you’re convinced you can’t stand. A man that you spend a whole lot of time thinking about…considering how much you swear you hate him. 
Your response is a pointed cant of your hips, warmth curling in your abdomen at the feeling of your cunt freely dragging across Cassian’s thigh, your folds sliding through the slick arousal pooling in your underwear. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs, carefully bringing his hands up to grasp either of your hips. The calluses on his thumbs scrape against your skin at the waistband of your pants where your shirt’s ridden up. “You’re stunning, you know.”
“But,” he adds in a low tone as you let out a choked out whine when he tightens his grip and guides your next stroke, “you’re really gorgeous like this, when you loosen the slack on that silly leash you keep yourself on.”
“Cassian,” you gasp out when he presses his hot lips to the exposed skin on your neck, kissing and nipping his way down to your collarbone.
“I know,” he whispers, “Riding my thigh isn’t enough. You need me to fill that pretty cunt.”
You whimper, fisting a hand in his hair, and he chuckles, one hand slipping under your shirt to tease at your peaked nipples. 
“I’ll fill every tight little hole of yours with my cum for when we get back to the ship, if that’s what you want.”
“Please,” you nearly cry out, almost forgetting the Imperial troops stationed nearby. 
The hand currently squeezing and kneading your breasts slips away and clamps over your mouth as Cassian gives you a warning look, and you nod, continuing to chase the pleasure building between your legs. 
His pants are probably soaked with your arousal, too, at this point. And the thought makes your cunt throb. Another desperate sound crawls up your throat ahead of your impending orgasm, and Cassian slips two fingers into your mouth. He hums in satisfaction when the only muffled noise left is the wet slide of you eagerly sucking on his fingers, a sloppy trail of drool sliding down your cheek.
And then your climax hits you so hard your vision goes white, your entire body shaking with waves of pleasure that leave you boneless.
Cassian grasps your chin as you make no secret of the way you adjust yourself to sit fully in his lap now, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You reach between your bodies, surprised to find the hard outline of his cock slightly softened now. Amusement rumbles in his chest as your fingers glide over the sticky area where he came in his pants. 
“There’s plenty more where that came from,” he assures you, eyes sparkling with mischief before he leans in to kiss you once more.
Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!
» CASSIAN ANDOR MASTERLIST
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queen-breha-organa · 2 years
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Listening to the Empire talk about the Dhani, was such a horrifically moving moment.
I’ve heard words like that directed at my people before, horrific words spoken by horrific colonizers.
The Dhani walk up the mountains, their faces solemn as they make a sacred journey, and voiced over we hear the Imperials speak: “They’re a simple people. They breed a sad combination of traits that make them particularly vulnerable to manipulation.”
The Empire has been wearing down these people over and over until they hardly have the strength to stand. The Empire have been “leasing” their land, but only to slowly conquer the Dhani from within. The Empire have set them up for exhaustion and failure, displacing them so far away from their sacred sites that the journey is nearly impossible. They have preyed on the Dhani’s need to survive, and they have manipulated them into a corner.
So many indigenous individuals have heard words just like that before. So many of us have been pushed off our scared land and forced to travel to our sovereign sites as if we are tourists, and not the grounds sacred keepers. So many of us are forced to eat the table scraps of our once thriving traditions. So many of us have been manipulated by colonialism, forced into a corner where there are no winners.
It made me so sad to see that represented in Andor, but it also made me feel so understood, and seen, and heard.
The storytelling in this show is beyond phenomenal, the details, the symbolism and the parallels to real life make this series so well developed and engaging and most importantly, it makes people feel less alone in their stories. To see stories like yours told, to see people like you tell them, especially in such a mainstream media, that is a rare gift.
I’m just so thankful for this show.
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markantonys · 4 months
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What is your ideal Gawyn show intro?
tick tock, it's gawynposting o'clock!!! i love being enabled, thank you :')
okay, so here's what i'm thinking. 3x01 focuses on catching up with our established characters and setting up the main storylines for the season. 3x02 is time for our caemlyn crew to make their grand entrance; the episode title seems to be "a question of crimson" (though this isn't guaranteed) which would be perfect for an andor & elaida intro episode.
3x02 cold open. scene: caemlyn palace nursery 20 years ago. baby elayne (there was allegedly a baby needed on the caemlyn palace set) is snoozing in her cradle with a nurse (lini cameo!) keeping an eye on her. 10ish-year-old galad is there playing with toddler gawyn. elaida enters the room and takes gawyn over to elayne's cradle and explains to him what it means to be her first prince of the sword, then makes him swear the oath we famously hear about in the books, the oath he swore over her cradle when he was just barely tall enough to look into it, "my blood shed before hers, my life given before hers". the audience goes "wow! this is a pretty fucked up thing to do to this 2-year-old" and thus we learn something about both gawyn (was psychologically fucked up at age 2 by being taught to see himself as a tool to protect other, more important people) and elaida (cares a lot about protecting the royal house of andor and has no problem psychologically fucking up 2-year-olds to do it). and there can be other stuff in the scene to tell us a bit about galad and morgase maybe, depending on how big of a role they're going to have in s3.
this is where i would put the opening credits IF I HAD THEM. (hashtag bring back the opening credits in every episode not just the finale you cowards.) now we go to present-day caemlyn, where the fam is discussing their worries that elayne is missing. gawyn in particular is upset about it and is blaming himself (and being blamed by elaida, and maybe even morgase makes some queenly Harsh But Fair remarks), and the audience goes "yep, sure enough, that 2-year-old has grown up to have Issues." and thus, right away, we've been given a point of connection with and sympathy for gawyn as well as an important insight into why he is Like That. this toddlerhood oath-swearing scene is buried in his narration in the books and i think a lot of people miss it or miss its importance, but it is THE formative moment for his character and the key to understanding why he is Like That, and i'd die if it was portrayed directly onscreen via flashback cold open.
meanwhile, elayne, nynaeve, and mat have set off for tanchico from falme, but the rest of the gang is headed for caemlyn (either as a stop on the way to the waste, or as their intended final destination but shenanigans later force them to flee and only then do they decide to go to the waste). perrin goes out and about in the city and hears rumors of trouble in the two rivers, setting him up to branch off from the group by the end of 3x02. egwene heads to the palace, having been tasked by elayne to deliver a letter to her family assuring them she's well, and rand tags along.
but the guards won't let these two hooligans in, so instead they go around back and break in over the garden wall, falling off the wall at gawyn's feet and setting off the biggest bi crisis of his life. egwene has a whole flirty meetcute with a handsome prince while rand, with whom she officially broke up in 3x01, has to bear witness to the whole thing (and this shows the audience that egwene is also moving on, thus soothing them about rand getting new love interests this season), but gawyn is friendly to rand too and defends both of them from galad's bitch ass and all the guards galad tattles on them to.
rand and egwene are hauled off to an audience with morgase and elaida, and gawyn defends them again but obediently shuts up when morgase and elaida tell him to (showing us that he has a good heart but is easily influenced by authority figures, especially elaida - seeing that gawyn tends to obey elaida is a surprise tool to help us later). whole tense convo here where egwene and rand both get to meet their mutual future mother-in-law as well as their mutual future kidnapper, and egwene delivers the letter but then elaida has her ominous foretelling of rand, which calls his and egwene's integrity and thus the veracity of the letter into question. morgase lets them go (against elaida's advice) but doesn't trust the letter (at elaida's advice) and continues to worry for elayne's safety. so, elaida sets off for the white tower to get answers, with gawyn in tow because, as we learned at the very start of the episode, protecting elayne is quite literally his life.
there we have it! a gawyn intro that sets up a ton of important stuff for him (his oaths to elayne, the way he ties his self-worth to his ability to protect people he deems more important than him, his fucked-up mentor/mentee relationship with elaida, his crush on egwene, his friends-to-onesided-homoerotic-rivals arc with rand, his relationships with morgase and galad), gets the audience to understand and sympathize with and maybe even feel fond of him right off the bat, AND doesn't violate any of the handful of tidbits we know about s3 so far. a win-win-win!
this is my ideal version. but there's a couple other possibilities, such as a) we meet gawyn in caemlyn, but rand & co don't go there, so gawyn does not meet egwene until a future season, or b) elaida and morgase have a one-on-one convo in caemlyn (both actresses were leaked to have been on that set, but no word on if the brothers were there) and gawyn isn't introduced until a later scene arriving at the white tower with elaida (and so doesn't meet egwene until a future season).
i'm leaving galad out of the white tower trip for now because i remember musing a while back how it could actually be more effective if it's an elaida-gawyn duo and galad stays home with morgase. both women are important to both brothers' stories, but elaida is more important to gawyn and morgase is more important to galad. gawyn can be alone with elaida doing all the coup stuff, and galad can be with morgase watching her start behaving strangely, not understanding why, and starting to turn to the whitecloaks (because he blames the aes sedai for elayne's disappearance, because he's afraid morgase is losing her grip and starting to do andor harm, and maybe because morgase was compelled to treat him cruelly and kick him out a la bryne* in the books and he feels he has nowhere else to turn to). gawyn/elaida/tower + galad/morgase/whitecloaks feels like two logical groupings, and in that regard keeping galad in caemlyn could allow for more efficient storytelling than sending him to tar valon. and the galad/morgase/whitecloaks storyline could be held until s4, leaving galad and morgase as just 1ish-episode characters in s3, or it could be another s3 subplot if they want to speed things along. there's also a chance galad could already be a whitecloak and is in the two rivers storyline with dain, but i would prefer that not be the case because my opinion is it's important to his character for us to see him start normal and then get radicalized into the whitecloaks. plus, galad has SO little content in the books that the show is absolutely fine to stretch his stuff out a bit, they don't need to rush to have him already be a whitecloak at the start of s3.
*i've also made these theories with bryne being cut, since i have elaida take his place in gawyn's oath-swearing and galad take his place as the big bridge burned by compelled!morgase. i have no idea whether he actually WILL be cut or not (though i'm 99% confident his romance with siuan is off the table even if he's in), but he feels like a character where it's easy to divvy their stuff up among other more important characters. mat and bashere have us covered for Great Generals, thom has us covered as morgase's ex with whom things ended badly, and egwene could get soldiers from another source (or could even have her army simply be aes sedai and warders).
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shanastoryteller · 1 year
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HAPPY MONTH OF PRIDE!!!!! Poe and/or Andor from Star Wars please? (Thanks for the twofer last time 🥰)
a continuation of 1 2
They get lost.
Ben isn’t at all surprised, because this is exactly what he said would happen if they started trying to actually solder wires together instead of using the tried and true method of bubblegum and a prayer.
“How is this even possible?” Poe moans. “We’re going to die out here and then my mother is going to kill me. How does your dad get anywhere in this thing?”
“The Force, mostly,” he says, because Dad has been insisting he’s not Force sensitive his whole life and from where Ben’s standing, it’s pretty much total shit. Uncle Luke says to just let him live in his delusion.
Poe brightens. “So you can get us out of this, then? You use the Force, right?”
“Maybe?” he says. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’ve shorted several important components and if we don’t replace them it won’t matter if we know which direction to go since the ship will lose propulsion halfway there and we’ll be stuck floating in dead space until we starve to death.”
Poe glares. “You’re not funny.”
“I’m hilarious,” he says. “Come on, follow that that star thirty seven degrees to your right, we should hit a junkyard planet on the way that we can scavenge from. Hopefully.”
“Great,” Poe says, adjusting the controls. Ben can definitely get in contact with Uncle Luke if they actually need to get bailed out, but there’s no reason to tell Poe that.
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gffa · 1 year
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The latest ending of Ahsoka really made me realize one of the big problems with Felony's writing and why so much of the Masndo-verse and Felony's modern writing falls flat compared to OWK and Andor. Shock value. A BIG twist cliffhanger that leaves us all mouth open and HYPING up the next episode in hope and filling the forums with discussions in anticipation. Understandably, he can't write what we wrote in our heads for 7 days and top that. 1.
2. But once that shock is gone when the story has moved onto the next big thing, or you watch it again when you know what it pays off in, or watch the whole series or season again, it just doesn't hold up. It's empty. Vapid. Because it's all about the shock. The twist. The discussion. The hype fodder. It's not saying anything or adding anything. OWK and Andor was a lot better at that, without the use of the nostalgia baiting that Felony relies on. 3. It becomes an endless circle of low lows and high highs, while OWK and Andor both slowly built up to the crescendo of discussions and speculations and both have stayed in the fandom consciousness alot longer thanks to that. And because they have something to say, both to the world and to the viewer. While with the Felony and the Fraudrou verses, it's just a constant barrage of oh wow, moving on, what's next? ehh, it's over, let's move on.
I feel like one day I'm going to do a longer analysis on why exactly Filoni's writing feels weak to me (where I try to be more fair than I'm usually feeling about his writing), because I don't think he's without a lot of talent and there's certain things he really does get about Star Wars, but I think so much comes back to that he's a writer who is caught in a difficult position--playing in someone else's sandbox but has to now establish his own new corners of that sandbox and I'm not sure he's strong enough to be a big picture kind of guy when he works better in smaller focus. His work on TCW and Rebels is content that we do come back to again and again for analysis, during my rewatches of both those series, those shows hold up! But I think they're ones where he had stronger guardrails up, and he was forced to stick to things in one place. I think live action has been bad for Filoni's writing because of the way so much is structured, that there are multiple series going on and I feel like his writing doesn't have the patience to actually tell a story in a single space, that's why we get Grogu's story being split between The Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett, that's why we get Mandalore's story being splintered across Rebels, The Mandalorian, The Book of Boba Fett, and now Ahsoka. We still haven't even seen half of the events that happen in the Mandalore bigger story! And you're right that he and Favreau both lean too hard on the cameos and echoes/rhymes for nostalgia's sake. And those reference points are often extremely fun in the moment! And I'll grant that the Luke episodes are ones I go back to fairly often, because I think there's some really good content in there about what attachment actually means. But I don't think it's that surprising, looking back, how quickly the Favroni shows fell apart for us and how it doesn't feel like they're establishing anything that can support a bunch of books and comics. I suspect that Disney's not allowed to have books/comics/etc. based on Favroni's shows because they want creative control over those characters while they're still actively writing for them, but also I look at the OT and the PT and look how much was built off those movies+TCW as a foundation, I look at how much you're able to still watch those and find new things to analyze, and I just don't feel that with Filoni's writing anymore, not since Rebels, not to that level, anyway. (I'll grant that I've been a lot more excited about the Ahsoka series and what we can say about it/find in analyzing it than I expected, I expected nothing but shitposts like we did with Mandalorian s3, but I've had fun with serious meta in Ahsoka! I was genuinely excited to come on-line after episode 4 and talk about themes and structure and how well Filoni did with that there!) Ultimately, I think Filoni (and Favreau) both have a lot of talent, but I think they're being pushed too hard to make too much too quickly and that it shows that they're making this up as they go along, rather than that they had a vision they've been crafting for years and any kind of idea of where they want the end goal to be. Like, yeah, Lucas wrote some stuff on the fly, he changed his mind about things along the way, but he had an end point in mind for his story, so the echoes/rhymes felt more resonant for me. Favroni don't feel like they have any idea where they're going and so much winds up feeling like shock value and self-reference for nostalgia bad for me instead of something that's Going Somewhere.
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elwenyere · 23 days
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Just thinking...about Andor Inception heist au...and who would be what role...
Ohhhhhh what a terrific question, my friend!!! Thank you so much for this. <3<3<3 Here are some initial thoughts, and I would love to hear what other people think as well.
Cassian and Luthen both strike me as incredible forgers. They're super adept at reading people, and they have very flexible, intuitive relationships to identity. I feel like they could observe, impersonate, slip in and out of roles as needed, and seize very quickly on the most essential emotional/relational pressure points in any problem set in front of them. If you want to incept someone, you want a Cassian and/or Luthen there: someone who can read the emotional terrain and modulate their performance to become exactly the kind of figure who can leave you thinking something they suggested was your idea all along.
I think Cassian would also be a great extractor, for some similar reasons, as would Dedra, probably, if we're including the show's villains. They both have a sense of how and where to apply force to encourage people to reveal what's most important to them and of how to use the emotional power of larger events to their advantage (thinking about the different ways they both attempt to use the Rix Road funeral as an opportunity to extract a person of interest).
Kino and Kleya would both be stellar point people, I think. They're thorough, meticulous, competent, loyal - able to see the full scope of a process and get the right people and weapons to the right places. They might not have the same kind of theatrical imagination as Cassian or Luthen, but they have a terrifyingly sharp grip on how to make a team of people work together, where to direct energy and resources, and how to solve problems in a pinch.
Nemik and Melshi seem like architects to me. They're both idealists (in their different ways) who also have very pragmatic grasps of how systems of navigation and crowd control work (Nemik builds the model of the Aldhani garrison and handles navigation on the way out, and Melshi handles the demolition pragmatics on Scarif and sees right through the operations on Narkina). And they both seem like characters who would dive into dream architecture in particular: they strike that balance between understanding how a structure is put together in the real world and having the divergent urge to bend the laws of accepted physics to imagine something more daring and beautiful that could exist.
I'm less certain about chemists, but my first thoughts are Mon Mothma or Bix, for different reasons. Mon demonstrates that she has a sense for what levers need to be adjusted to influence people's patterns of thought and behavior, though not in quite as dramatic or improvisational a way as Luthen or Cassian: her interventions are subtle, intellectual, precisely calculated. And Bix is a mechanic and a salvage specialist. She knows how to spot substances of value and how to reformulate and recombine them in creative ways that will enhance their effect for particular audiences and purposes.
This was a very fun thought experiment!!! I hope folks will feel free to chime in with more possibilities.
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frostbitepandaaaaa · 9 months
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It's You That I Hold On To - a rebelcaptain secret santa fic
hello @rebelrainfall! it is i, your rebelcaptain secret santa! i hope you are having a lovely, restful holiday, and that you enjoy this silly little fic i wrote for you! <3 also tagging @therebelcaptainnetwork
PREVIEW
“Hey,” Cassian greets a bit breathlessly as he breezes past her to deposit his shopping on the little tiled counter. Normally, Jyn might tease him, because she can tell he came home with more than just the groceries— one of the bags is topped with what looks like assorted droid parts of some kind and this is certainly not the first time this has happened (turns out Cassian Andor, hero of Scarif and ruthless intelligence officer, is something of a pack-womprat). But she can’t seem to bring herself to open her mouth, to even greet him back, to do much at all except stand in the middle of the kitchen and try to take it all in.
“Cassian, you’re dripping all over the floor,” Kay scolds, placing his own packages and parcels on the living room table.
“I know, I know,” Cassian sighs, “and so are you, I might point out.” He turns to her, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek before stopping short. His dark eyes narrow, look her over in concern. “Jyn?”
She shakes her head, dismissive, and she feels maybe just a bit foolish that her eyes are burning. That such a normal scene should affect her so much. But Cassian knows, doesn’t need her to spell it out, thank Force, because he understands. She knows he does— she’s caught the way he looks at her sometimes— like she is a mirage that he cannot bear to lose sight of.
So he simply steps forward and hugs her and even damp and chilled with rain, he feels so warm. Safe.
She relaxes into his arms, everything melting into a warm slag at the bottom of her belly as she breathes him in— smelling of silt and stormcloud.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs.
“It’s okay,” she repeats, muffled against his neck.
read it on ao3!
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Rebels rewatch liveblog: Season 1, Episode 4: “Fighter Flight”
I love how Ezra immediately tries to flirt with Sabine - it’s very realistic for a 15 yo boy. I like that they just ended up as friends/siblings though, it shows both of their character development and maturity
Thank god Chopper never met the 501st because his little shit instincts would have overdeveloped
Kothal on Lothal? How on earth did they get that?
We really don’t give a lot of credit to Hera, she deserves more 😭😭
Okay but why does the Empire need meilooruns?
Usually when characters speak to themselves it sounds odd and sort of like a video game, but in Rebels they do a good job of making it sound natural
Zeb’s insistence that Ezra and him need to be even makes me wonder if the Lasats had a life-debt culture? It’s canon in other cultures such as gungans, so it wouldn’t be that much of a stretch…
I love Hera and Sabine’s dynamic
“THE KIDS”?? “THE KIDS”?? You are correct sir, you and Hera and the exhausted parents, Zeb is the older brother, Sabine is the cooler older sister that everyone is intimidated by, and Ezra is the disaster youngest who’s the parents favorite and no one can stay mad at. (Honorable mention: Vodka uncle Chopper)
Rebels s1 shows the Empires day to day, which I love. Sort of like Andor but with much lower stakes - of course they’re taking farms, of course they’re buying meilooruns at a local market.
I love the reference to a new hope ❤️❤️
Ezra’s absurdly powerful for someone who’s only trained with the force for like?? a week?? Like he’s already sensing obstacles and pushing buttons. Speaking of, i think that it would have been interesting to explore the idea of Ezra using the force before he met the Ghost crew - not knowing what it is, just knowing that it helps to convince storekeepers to give him food
“You did all this for fruit” stormtrooper you will always be famous
Ezra it’s YOUR backpack 1. Why do you not know what’s in it?? And 2. Why do you have a WRENCH?
Brother brother bonding time by killing stormtroopers and hiding stolen vehicles <3
Zeb trying to show that he cares by giving Ezra the helmet, only for Ezra to dismiss it is so sad, but it probably speaks volumes for the social skills that Ezra couldn’t develop on the streets (he took it tho <33)
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imagineyourworld · 2 years
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As Long as the Stars Allow
Cassian Andor x Duchess!Reader  Warnings: Talk of death, canon typical violence, sexism, smut (including oral, PiV, and slight choking and orgasm denial, thigh riding), possessiveness (from both Cassian and reader) Summary: I honestly don’t have a summary... It’s kind of an enemies to lovers, friends with benefits, fake bodyguard, soulmates story.
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Nothing could ever shake your unwavering loyalty to the Rebellion, or at least that’s what you thought before you met him.  Cassian Andor. Infamous rebel spy, ladies man, fighter to his core, and the one person in the Rebellion you hated almost as much as the Empire itself.  For quite some time now you have wondered how it was possible for you to get along with every single other rebel, and then you met Cassian and all that went out the window.  It wasn’t exactly hate at first sight, in fact the first conversation the two of you had had been good. He was reserved and held back, didn’t tell you anything about his past of his motivation to join the Rebel Alliance, but he was polite, nice, almost flirty. Well, the next time you saw him all that had changed.  Cassian had single-handedly managed to make you question whether taking down the Empire was really worth spending time with him. Until said Empire committed another atrocity that is and you realised that as annoying as Cassian might be, it was worth it. For you, your loved ones, your people, and the entire galaxy.  “Your Grace, Bail Organa requests your presence in his office,” the voice of your trusted lady drew your attention away from your brooding thoughts.  You turned away from the window, the millions of stars outside it, and nodded your thanks to her.  You had expected to be called into someone’s office sooner rather than later, after all you had already spent more time on the starship than you liked. Every second you spent with the rebels, even worse on one of their ships, was a risk. You could gather intel at meetings, read classified reports from the Empire only community leaders had access to, help the Rebellion in many little ways, but actually being with them for an extended period of time might draw the wrong kind of attention and blow your cover of neutrality.  Your lady following behind you, you made your way to Bail’s office, the doors of which opened the second you halted in front of them.  “Please wait here for me, Mira.”  With a small curtsy your lady told you that she understood and you entered the office, the doors closing behind you again.  Bail Organa stood with his back to you, another human male next to him, and an all too familiar Togruta facing both of them and thereby you.  “Y/n, I’m glad you could join us,” Ahsoka said with a smile on her face.  You returned the gesture, focusing all your attention on her so as not to stare daggers at the other man in the room, who out of the corner of your eye you had by now recognised as none other than Cassian Andor.  “The pleasure is all mine. I didn’t know you’d be here,” you told her as you walked across the office to give her a hug.  Despite a ten year age difference you counted Ahsoka to your closest friends, one of the few other women in the Rebellion and someone who had been through more than you could ever imagine.  “You’re more beautiful every time I see you,” Ahsoka told you, looking you over. You knew you looked your best today, your white dress flattering your body shape and your hair styled in the newest fashion with a flower native to your planet braided into it. “Doesn’t she?”  The last words were directed at the two men in the office, forcing you to stand beside Ahsoka and look at them.  “Beautiful like a midnight flower, your Grace,” Bail said with a smooth kiss to your hand.  Cassian, on the other hand, didn’t even acknowledge you. Instead he kept his gaze focused on the holopad on the desk.  “Enough with the pleasantries now. Please, let’s get to business. What is so important that we had to meet here?”  Finally, Cassian looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours in a cold stare. “Why? Did your Grace have somewhere more important to be?”  Out of his mouth the honorific sounded like an insult. It was only due to years of education and dealing with condescending politicians that you managed to ignore him and instead focus on the two people in the room you actually liked.  “I know what you risk by meeting us here, Y/n, but there was nowhere else we deemed safe,” Ahsoka said. “What we’re about to tell you could change everything.”  Her words made you look at the datapad, which displayed a map and a long list of names next to it. It took you a moment to recognise some of them. Bail was on that list, as was his wife Queen Breha and even their daughter, though only just a teenager. Ahsoka, deemed dead by the Empire, wasn’t on it, but you spotted a few other familiar names, friends, other rebels you had only spoken to briefly. Cassian.  You looked up from the list and met his eyes. He knew he was on the list, of course he did, maybe that was the reason he was here now, and though you should have expected him to be on the list, especially with what little you know of his past, it somehow shocked you that the Empire was really after him, that one day he might not return from a mission.  “Cassian here managed to secure this list a couple of weeks ago. It’s names and last known locations of people the Empire knows or thinks might be a danger to it. Spies, rebels, gang members, everyone who for some reason or other isn’t happy with the Empire.”  You looked at Bail as he talked, an unspoken question in your eyes.  He shook his head. “You’re not on that list. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t others on which you might be.”  You nodded. It had always been a risk to work for the Rebellion, you knew that one day the Empire might find out and you would have to face the consequences.  “What’s the plan? Do you want me to hide those people on Kamaanti?”  It was somewhat of a rhetorical question, you knew, and everyone else in the room did as well, that you might have been able to hide a few people on your small planet but not an entire list of enemies to the Empire, at least not without getting yourself on that list as well, and getting people killed in the process.  “You’re invited to the Empire’s annual masquerade ball, right?”  Another rhetorical question. As Duchess of Kamaanti you were invited every year, forced to dance with Imperials, listen to their ideas and how they thought they were the greatest beings to ever walk the galaxy, and in an admittedly clever way kept away from any known rebel sympathisers at the event.  “I am.”  Bail nodded.  You remember, years ago, when he and his family had been invited to the ball as well. That’s where you first met, where you found out that Bail, in his days as a republic senator, had been quite close with your own parents before their untimely death, where he had begun to give you hints of a group of people who weren’t exactly on board with the Empire.  The last couple of years the Organas were still invited, as the royal family of Alderaan they had to be, though be it on paper only. Everyone knew that they weren’t exactly welcome, other than you they had never kept their political opinions exactly quiet.  “And it is still held in the Great Imperial Ballroom on Coruscant?”  You confirmed.  “And do you know what lies beneath the ballroom?”  You turned away from Bail to look at Ahsoka, who had spoken for the first time in a while.  “I don’t,” you admitted after a moment of silence. “But you do, don’t you? You were raised on Coruscant.”  Just like with Cassian, you knew only a little about Ahsoka’s past. You knew that she, like Bail, had known your parents before their death, that she was raised on Coruscant, that she kept many secrets she wouldn’t even tell you.  “What is now known as the Great Imperial Ballroom wasn’t always a ballroom. It used to be a training facility, which is quite useful since both a ballroom and a training room require soft flooring, big spaces, speakers for music. What are now the guest suites used to be dormitories, and underneath the ballroom, where there used to be storage, are now secret offices. Offices where the Empire does things they don’t exactly want the public to know.”  You nodded along with her words. Things they don’t exactly want the public to know, such as writing up lists of enemies of the Empire, basically kill lists.  “And you want me to, what, sneak into the basement and delete the list?”  It wasn’t exactly madness, but almost equally as insane. Sure, you had an invitation to enter the building, a suite reserved for you just a few floors up, but you had no experience with breaking and entering whatsoever. You were an informant, you could help out with sensitive information, hide a few people if necessary, donate a star ship every once in a while, but you couldn’t break into a top secret office, at least not without... help.  Your eyes flitted over to Cassian. That’s why he was here. You were the way in, he was the one to actually do the job.  “Delete the list, see if there are any others, and if so delete them as well,” Bail confirmed your earlier question.  You nodded along, barely registering his words.  Why Cassian? There were dozens of others who could to the job, people you didn’t hate, who didn’t hate you. Why did it have to be him?  “I’m sure you’re wondering what Cassian has to do with all of this,” Bail continued after a moment of silence.  You scoffed. You liked Bail, you really did, but sometimes he, like most other men, underestimated you simply because of your pretty face and your fancy clothes.  “I know exactly why he’s here. I’m the looks, he’s the brain.”  Now it was Cassian’s turn to scoff. He glared at you with fire in his eyes.  “I wouldn’t exactly say that you’re the looks. More like I’m the brain and the looks and you’re just our way in.”  Charming, you thought, rolling your eyes at him.  “Have you really thought this through, Bail?” Ahsoka asked, mirroring your thoughts exactly.  Bail shrugged. “It’s an important mission and we need our best people on it. I’m sure they can cease acting like children for at least a little while.”  Somehow his words struck you. You really were acting like children, weren’t you? Bail was right, this was an important mission and you couldn’t risk it by arguing with Cassian every time he opened his mouth or even just breathed in your direction.  With an audible sigh you reached your hand across the desk, offering it to the spy.  “Truce?”  After a moment of heavy silence, and raised eyebrows from both Ahsoka and Bail, Cassian returned the gesture, enclosing your hand in his.  The warmth of it, even in the slightly cold office, took you by surprise, as did the calluses against your soft skin. And yet his hand somehow fit in yours, not quite like a puzzle piece but it didn’t repulse you as much as you had anticipated.  You squeezed his hand once, giving him your most dazzling smile, before letting go and turning back to Bail.  “So, what’s the cover story? How am I going to get Cassian past security?” 
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You were scared.  It was a week later, you were on your way to the masquerade ball, and you were scared as fuck.  This, though undeniably for a good cause, wasn’t what you had signed up for when you agreed to work with the Rebellion. This was espionage, you were used to sitting behind a desk, typing up neat reports to send to the Rebellion via paper, something that left little to no digital evidence the Empire could trace back to you.  “You’re nervous,”  It wasn’t a question, Cassian, sitting beside you in the traditional clothes of your personal guard, was simply stating a fact.  And yet you couldn’t admit it, not to him.  “I’m not.”  You glanced over to your driver, the same woman who piloted your starship whenever you needed to leave the planet, who flew you from useless appointment to useless appointment. You trusted her, at least on the basic level you trusted most, if not all, of your employèes, but you couldn’t risk her overhearing anything.  “You’re quite observant,” you told Cassian in your most regal voice, the one reserved for strangers and people you didn’t like. Or at least people other than Cassian you didn’t like, he somehow brought out a version of yourself you rarely showed, one that at the same time made you feel unlike yourself and more yourself than you were at any other time. Maybe he just agitated you so much that you lost all sense of self.  “I’m your guard, it’s my job,” Cassian replied, the hint of warmth his voice had held earlier gone, replaced by the same professionalism you tried your best to conjure up.  You silently cursed Bail for the idea to have Cassian pose as your guard. Admittedly, it clever since it would explain why the two of you would stick together the entire evening, and it was one of only two ways of getting Cassian inside the building. The other being having him pretend to be your date, your boyfriend or even fiancè, which everyone agreed wouldn’t be believable and likely end in injury or death for one or both of you.  Moments of silence, in which every single way this mission could go wrong, crossed your mind, until finally the shining lights of the ballroom came into sight.  “We’ve arrived, ma’am,” your driver announced.  From the way Cassian almost choked beside you, you could tell that he was trying his best to hold back a scoff. A small smile found its way to your lips, it was quite fun seeing Cassian having to deal with all of this. You were raised from birth to one day inherit your mother’s title of Duchess of Kamaanti, to understand, and even appreciate, the protocol that came with the role, the responsibility. But all of this was new to Cassian, and for the first time in quite some time, the first time since he let it slip how he came to leave Kenari, you felt for him.  “Let’s go, Cassian,” you said in a soft voice, hoping neither he nor your driver would misinterpret it as anything more than it was, a friendly way to encourage Cassian to get out there and face whatever the evening had to offer.  You could hear him take a deep breath before he exited the ship and opened the door for you, allowing you to face the flashing lights and people lined up to watch the guests enter the ballroom.  Cassian followed just a few steps behind you as you made your way up the stairs to the main entrance.  “There are more witnesses than expected,” he whispered into your ear just as you reached the top step, the one spot where you were unlikely to be overheard by either guards or spectators.  His warm breath his your ear and for a moment it made you forget just how cold you were in your beautiful, but quite thin, dress in the Coruscant night air.  “That’s just outside, inside there’ll be way less people.”  You continued to walk up to the Imperial officer in charge of greeting the guests, one you knew you had met at a previous event but couldn’t for the life of you remember the name of.  “Your Grace,” he greeted you with a stiff bow, his expression telling you just how much he despised showing his respect to a woman, especially one so much younger than himself.  “Lieutenant, “ you return, guessing his rank based on the medals gleaming on his chest.  Cassian stood behind you, no doubt noticing every detail about the grand entrance hall and the man in front of you, taking note of every exit, surveillance camera, and blaster in the area.  “And who is that with you?”  Despite your best efforts the lieutenant’s question threw you off guard. You weren’t used to having your actions or the people in your company questioned, at least not openly though of course you knew that people talked behind closed doors, not even at an Imperial event.  “This is my personal guard. I was assured that you were told he was accompanying me.”  Cassian stepped ever so slightly closer to you, something you could only tell by the heat radiating off his body intensifying against your back. You had a feeling that if you played close enough attention you could be able to feel his breath hitting the back of your neck where your hair was pulled up.  “You didn’t bring a guard with you last year, or the year before that.”  It wasn’t a question but you nodded nonetheless, trying to hide the unease that you felt at realising that among hundreds, if not thousands, of guests the Empire paid close enough attention to you for even the lieutenant to notice a change in your company.  “Due to the political climate my head of security thought it wise to have some extra protection.”  You didn’t mention the Rebellion, didn’t say that this ball would be a perfect target and it would only make sense for someone as high ranking as yourself to have personal protection. You didn’t need to, the officer, if he knew what was good for him, would let you pass, opting to admit that the situation with the rebels was getting dangerous rather than risking angering you.  “Of course, your Grace. An extra room in your suite for your guard has been prepared prior to your arrival.”  You nodded, playing the part of snob nobility and not granting him a real answer, as you rushed past him, your skirt flowing behind you as you made your way to where you knew the lifts to be located.  “Room 4215,” the lieutenant called after you.  Only as the lift doors closed behind you did you dare to let out the breath you’ve been holding. All of this, lying, deceiving, pretending to be someone you were not, wasn’t your area of expertise, and for the first time you really came to admire Cassian for managing it all so effortlessly.  “Well, that didn’t go as well as I expected,” you started but before you could say anything else Cassian coughed once, then twice. Your agreed upon singal to tell the other that you were being watched.  You turned to face Cassian, who was standing behind you in the corner, trying to get a good look of your surroundings in the process. And there, in the top right corner, was a small camera, almost invisible to the untrained eye.  Cassian looked at you as you pretended not to notice the camera, to not let the Empire know that you were well aware that you were being watched.  Though this was you in your natural environment, embodying your role as duchess of Kamaanti, you were as tense as he had ever seen you. Granted, he hadn’t spent all that much time with you, but the few times you did see each other you always looked more relaxed.  Thinking of the easy smile, comparing your clenched shoulders to your usual posture, brought back memories of your first meeting, and the time directly after it.  It was hot, hotter even than the usual scorching temperatures of Jakku, and Cassian longed to get back to the slightly cooler Yavin, or even just a shower to wash off all the sand and dirt clinging to his sweaty skin.  He was here to meet an important informant, one he had been told couldn’t risk meeting anywhere other than the middle of nowhere.  Wiping sweat from his brow Cassian first thought that the girl he was seeing, probably a few years younger than he himself, must have been a hallucination. There was no way a girl like that, with glowing skin, shining hair, and a radiant smile.  “Stars above, it’s a long way from home,” you said as you jumped off your speeder.  Those were the words, the signal, that told Cassian you really were the one had was supposed to meet.  “Not as long as a desert day,” he replied, telling you that he was the rebel you were told would be waiting for you.  You walked closer to where Cassian was sitting in the shade of a giant rock, just as he jumped up to meet you.  Up close you were even prettier, despite the sand clinging to your hair and your lips chapped from the dry air, you were a vision.  Cassian wasn’t usually one to be at a loss for words when talking to a pretty woman but there was something about you.  “I’m Y/n,” you introduced yourself.  He repeated your name, trying to get used to the unfamiliar sound. It sounded pretty, sophisticated, like the name out of a fairytale.  “Cassian.”  You sat down in the shade, pulling a water bottle from your backpack and talking a sip before offering it to Cassian.  “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”  He chuckled, a sound that had almost become unfamiliar to his own ears. Laughter was hard to come by in the Rebellion but somehow, sitting on this hot as hell planet with you, it came easy to him.  “I could ask you the same thing, you don’t look like a rebel. Far too pretty,” he was quick to add before you could say anything.  You laughed, a sound he longed for more than a cold shower. How he could feel like this only minutes after meeting you, knowing nothing about you but your name, he didn’t know. Cassian wasn’t a stranger to women, he had a healthy sex life, knew how to make females (and the occasional males) swoon over him, but never had he been so captivated by someone as he was by you.  “I’m not exactly a rebel, just an informant.”  You pulled a stack of papers out of your backpack and handed them to him. Cassian flipped through them, finding names, locations, reports, and an envelope filled with credits among them.  You pocketed your water bottle again before getting up and brushing the sand off your trousers.  “Feel free to buy yourself something pretty, Cassian. We all deserve beauty amidst this darkness.” You made your way back to your speeder, leaving a stunned Cassian behind. “And if you’re ever on Kamaanti, feel free to drop by.”  And with those words you were off, leaving Cassian to wonder who exactly you were.  He didn’t have to wonder long though, once he returned to base Mon Mothma answered the pressing question on his mind.  You weren’t just an informant, you were a duchess, nobility, someone who had the power and the money to change the course of the war and yet sat comfortably in your palace, tossing the Rebellion a bone every now and then, probably just to ease your conscience.  Cassian didn’t usually blame people for not joining the Rebellion, everyone had their reasons to fight or to lay low, but if someone held the power you did, and yet did little to nothing, he couldn’t help the burning anger.  Never mind that you were pretty or funny, inside you were little better than the Empire you didn’t stand up to in favour of your own comfort. 
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You exited the refresher wearing your ball gown, your hair and makeup done by the stylists who have left just a couple of minutes ago and your handbag, shoes, and mask waiting for you to complete the look.  Cassian, dressed in a smart suit rather than the uniform he had been wearing earlier, sat in the armchair next to your bed, staring at the datapad in his hand.  “Careful, I heard they bite when you glare at them like that,” you tried to joke to lighten the mood.  His tense shoulders didn’t relax, if anything they clenched up even more as his eyes lifted and he looked you up and down.  “How do I look?”  The superficial part of you couldn’t resist the question. You knew you looked good, and you knew that if Cassian even tried to deny it he would be lying.  But Cassian didn’t deny it, instead he looked you up and down, a sudden heat in his eyes you had never seen there before.  You cast a quick glance to the mirror on the other side of the room. Your skin hadn’t magically turned green, not a hair was out of place. The dark blue dress hugged your upper body, hiding all your insecurities in the process, before flowing out in a long silky skirt with a slit up one leg just long enough to be sexy but not too long as to be indecent for the ball.  “What’s the matter, loth cat got your tongue?,” you joked as you slipped your shoes on. You bent down to fasten the ties but before you could Cassian’s voice finally sounded through the room.  “Let me.”  In one smooth motion he got out of his chair and slid onto the floor in front of you, his warm hand gently holding your ankle while the other busied itself with the fastening.  You couldn’t deny that Cassian looked good in his suit, just like your dress it brought out his best features, though you did think it was a shame that he had gelled his hair back, suddenly realising just how much you had grown to like the casual hairstyle he usually had. But there was something about him kneeling in front of you, wearing this suit, that had heat racing up your leg from where he touched you right to your core. A tingling sensation all too familiar, yet one you had never experience with Cassian Andor of all people.  “Is everything alright?,” Cassian aksed, his voice slightly rough, his accent more pronounced, though you blamed it on him concentrating on securing the overly complicated clips and bows around your ankles.  “Fine,” you choked out, a second too late realising that he had been talking about the upcoming evening, the mission, rather than the fact that having him on his knees in front of you did unmentionable things to you.  Finally, he let go of your leg and got up, though he was now standing a bit too close for comfort, his face only centimeters from your own.  “What do you do if we’re being watched?”  You rolled your eyes. Same old Cassian was back, always testing you, believing you to be incompetent.  “Cough twice.”  He nodded, his dark eyes never leaving yours.  “And what do you do while I extract the files?”  You crossed your arms in front of your chest, managing to put a bit more distance between the two of you in the process.  “Stand guard outside the door.”  He nodded again.  “And-”  You uncrossed your arms again, scoffing as you grabbed the mask from the bed and slipped it over the upper half of your face before tying a bow behind your head to fasten it.  “And if someone comes I’ll pretend to be drunk and that I couldn’t find my way back to my room. I know, Andor. I might not be an infamous spy like yourself but I’m not an idiot either.”  You tried your best not to frown, not wanting to smudge your makeup, and instead settled for glaring at him.  Cassian sighed, putting on his own mask.  “I never said you were an idiot, but you spend all your time worrying about where to find money for more of those pretty dresses you always wear.”  Now that made you see red. Was that what Cassian really thought of you? After everything you did for the Rebellion, everything you sacrificed, did people, did he really believe that all you worried about were your looks?  “Listen here you arrogant bantha shit,” you hissed between your teeth, walking over to Cassian until you were chest to chest, your voice dangerously low. “I worry about money, alright, and yes, sometimes I use that money to buy ‘pretty dresses’ but that’s because it’s what’s expected of me as a duchess. You know why I also worry about money? Because I need that money to pay my employèes so they can feed their families, I need that money to fund schools and universities, to give to those who need it, to buy weapons and supplies for your precious rebellion.” You took a deep breath before continuing, glad that you had managed to stun Andor into silence. “I don’t give a fuck what you think of me, whether you like me or despise me as you so clearly do, but don’t for one second think that I only think about myself. I may not be a rebel in the same way you are but make no mistake, I’m no Imperial either.”  You took a step back, refusing to look at Cassian again as you grabbed your small handbag and looked in the mirror one last time before exiting the room, your head held high and expecting Cassian to follow you like the duchess you were.  The ride down to the ballroom was awkward, filled with an unknown silence and tension, neither of you daring to say anything. But as soon as your arrival was announced and you entered the ballroom all that disappeared and you were in your element. This, even if you hated every single person in the room, was what you were born and raised to do. You may not exactly enjoy it, but you knew what to expect. You knew what people would ask and how they would answer your questions before they even opened their mouths. It wasn’t like it was with Cassian, who never said what you expected him to and would probably rather eat his own shoe than listen to you. Here, with those sharks and piranhas, you could prove your worth to the Rebellion.  “Your Grace, you look stunning,” a young Imperial you didn’t recognise greeted you. He lifted your hand up to place a kiss on the back of it.  “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” you said, at the same time indirectly asking for his name and trying to remind him just how unprofessional it was to just approach a duchess, even as a high ranking officer, without being introduced by a mutual acquaintance.      “Captain Flak Romeis, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”  His blond hair gleamed under the light as he looked you up and down in what you were sure he thought to be an inconspicuous way.  “The pleasure is all mine, captain,” you purred, knowing full well that Cassian, who was standing only a step behind you, held the same title as the slimy Imperial in front of you.  “Duchess, it would be a great honour if you granted me a dance.”  His overly formal words in combination with the way he still looked at you send icy shivers down your spine, a stark contrast to the heat Cassian had ignited in you just hours before.  Speak of the devil, before you could reply to Flak’s request, Cassian’s hand closed around your wrist, tugging ever so slightly in a manner that was no less unprofessional than the Imperial’s behaviour.  You turned around to face him for the first time since your argument, his hand still holding your wrist in a firm grasp.  “I don’t think it would be wise to dance with him, your Grace,” he whispered just loud enough for you to hear, to smell his minty breath and close your eyes to regain your composure.  “And why is that? Surely he doesn’t pose a threat to my safety.”  You blinked up at Cassian, urging him to play the guard, not to blow your cover over a simple dance and some nasty looks.  “Just one dance,” you said, lowering your voice. “And then we can do what we came here for.”  You pulled your hand out of his grasp, placing it on the Imperial’s arm so he could lead you to the dancefloor.  “I hope I didn’t just pull you away from your husband,” he said as you got into position, placing one of your hands in his and the other on his shoulder while his other hand founds its place on your waist.  “Husband?” You couldn’t help but laugh. Both of you were piss poor actors if people believed that Cassian was your husband. “He’s my personal guard. A bit overprotective maybe, it’s the first big event he’s accompanied me to.”  The music began to play and the Imperial took the first steps, leading you into the dance as Cassian watched from the side.  Maybe the playing pretend finally got to him because he felt a wave of protectiveness rise up as he watched Flak’s hand drift lower just a hint, as he pulled you closer, as he made you laugh.  Cassian knew that you were playing a part just as he was, that there was no way you were charmed by an Imperial, especially one as slimy as Captain Flak Romeis. Though you didn’t believe it to be true, as your little speech earlier had shown, Cassian did think highly of you, or at least of your dedication to the Rebellion. He knew what you were risking, that if you were caught it wouldn’t end well for you, that the Empire would make an example out of the unfaithful duchess.  Still watching you float across the dancefloor, Cassian noticed another guard, an actual personal guard, approach him out of the corner of his eye.  “You’re fucking her, aren’t you?”  The question, and the way in which it was asked, managed something only few people ever managed, it made him lose his focus.  Cassian turned to face the other guard, a Twi’lek, dressed in a suit so much like his own.  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” he continued. “I’m hooking up with my charge as well, though she’s nowhere near as good looking as yours. She really is something else. Is there any chance you’re willing to share?”  Though Cassian was no stranger to hooking up with women, sometimes women he had only seen as briefly as the guard had seen you, he did believe that everyone was owed respect, regardless of gender or looks, and you especially.  Yes, Cassian himself had difficulties tearing his eyes away from you in that dress, and a fantasy of ripping it off you had crossed his mind, but hearing someone else talk about you like that made him forget your argument earlier, replaced any anger he had towards you with angers towards the guard.  “You either leave right now and never look at her again or I’ll find you on whatever backwater planet you live on and break your jaw so you won’t ever talk about her like that again, understood?”  The guard didn’t even have a chance to reply before you suddenly appeared in front of Cassian, and as he looked to his side the Twi’lek was gone.  A few strands of your hair had fallen out of place and Cassian’s fingers twitched to push them behind your ear.  “May I have another dance before the night is over?,” the Imperial captain asked, calling Cassian’s attention to the fact that he was standing right there beside you.  Like a bucket of ice water it reminded him of why he had to stay away from you, you were a distraction. A beautiful distraction, but a distraction nonetheless.  “We’ll see, Captain Romeis, I tend to retire quite early.”  The statement was a polite a ‘no’ as you could manage and luckily succeeded in driving him away, leaving you and Cassian alone.  “Are you ready to go exploring, your Grace?” 
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The hallway you were walking through was freezing cold, a stark contrast to the stale air in the ballroom, and something that made you appreciate Cassian’s body heat next to you a tiny bit more.  “I was sure your heels would give us way but now I’m beginning to think it’s your clattering teeth,” Cassian whispered under his breath.  You were about to throw him an annoyed comment about how you dressed for a hot ballroom filled with hundreds of people, not an abandoned hallway that even a droid would catch a cold in, when you felt a sudden warmth around your upper body.  You had been too distracted with trying to come up with a witty comment to notice that Cassian, in an act that was as unlike him as dressing up in bright pink would be, had placed his suit jacket around your shoulders.  “I-,” you started before abruptly shutting your mouth. Cassian had just done a nice thing for you, now wasn’t the time for sarcasm. “Thank you.”  A small grunt was all the reply Cassian gave you. You rolled your eyes at his hot-and-cold behaviour, an act that, as childish as it was, saved your asses.  You coughed once. Twice.  Cassian looked at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to follow your line of sight without being too obvious.  You saw the recognition in his eyes as he spotted the security camera in the corner.  “It’s an IB24, it doesn’t record sound,” he told you, his monotone voice didn’t give you any comfort, but it didn’t give you reason to panic further either.  “Doesn’t mean it’s safe to talk, does it? Whoever watches the footage could still read our lips.” You put your hands in the pockets of Cassian’s jacket, trying to busy yourself so you wouldn’t begin to freak as another thought settled in your head. “They don’t just see two people who aren’t supposed to be here. Cassian, they’ll recognise us, recognise me.”  Your partner scoffed as he reached for the blaster previously hidden by his jacket and shot straight at the camera.  “Listen to you, all concerned about your own kriffing wellbeing.”  You didn’t waste your breath explaining to him that you, being a duchess and not a spy who made a living by staying hidden, were simply more recognisable.  “You’re one to talk, the great spy who doesn’t even see a security camera.”  Cassian, who had already taken a few steps towards the camera to knock it down and destroy the chip inside, turned around and came to stand right in front of you within a few quick strides.  “Listen, mi duquesita, you cannot fuck with me right now. I need to concentrate if this mission is to be successful, and you’re making that damn difficult.”  Though his voice was low, his breath hitting your lips, and his entire being surrounded you in a way that could go south within seconds, you weren’t intimidated.  “Trust me, the last thing I want to do is fuck with you. Or fuck you, for that matter.”  Cassian leaned impossibly closer, one hand reaching up to cup your chin and lift your head so you couldn’t look away from his dark eyes with a dangerous fire burning within.  “Are you sure about that?”  The sheer arrogance in his tone brought you to your senses. How dare he? Who did he think he was, who you were? Did he expect you to fawn over him just because he treated you like an equal for a couple of minutes?  You took a step back, letting Cassian’s hand fall from your chin, breaking the strange hold he had on you even further.  “Let’s just get this over with so we can go upstairs and I go to sleep and dream of being far away from you.  With a chuckle so soft you were sure you must have been imagining it, Cassian finally removed the chip from the camera, stuffing it in the pocket of his trousers before tossing you the broken camera.  “Hold on to that, will you? Can’t leave any more evidence of our visit than absolutely necessary.”  And the rest of your mission really did feel like a visit, like a walk in the park. You found the correct door, Cassian broke in, leaving you standing guard outside, and within a few moments he was back out again, a small smile on his face.  “All done, mi duquesita.”  There was that nickname again. You wouldn’t grant him the satisfaction of admitting that you didn’t know what it meant, by asking for a translation. You spoke three living and two dead languages fluently, so what if you didn’t speak Cassian’s damned language (both metaphorically and in the actual sense)?  “Let’s get out of here.”  You began to walk back the way you had come, glad that for once everything seemed to be going quite well, when you turned around, noticing that Cassian wasn’t following you.  “You coming?”  With a shake of his head he hurried to catch up to you.  “Are you in such a hurry because you can’t wait to dance with Captain whatshisname again?”  There was an unfamiliar venom in his voice, one you could have sworn was unlike anything Cassian had ever directed towards you.  The chance to annoy him further was right there and the words were at the tip of your tongue, but you decided to tell the truth. Partly because Cassian had been a good partner today and you didn’t want to anger him the one time the two of you got along, but mostly because you were simply too exhausted to tell another lie.  “I’ll be glad if I never have to see that guy again,” you admitted, pulling his jacket closer around your body as you tried to stifle a yawn. “I was telling the truth when I said that I just want to sleep.”  From the corner of his eye Cassian looked you up and down before nodding.  “Then let’s take you to bed, your Grace.”  You managed a nod, despite the fact that from his mouth the formal words sounded more like dirty talk than anything else.  The doors to the lift, which you had reached some time during your conversation, opened and you sank against the wall with a relieved sigh.  “I can’t wait to take these kriffing shoes off,” you muttered.  Cassian, from the other side of the lift, smirked at you, one eyebrow raised.  “Foul mouth for a duchess.”  If you only knew, you thought, and you were just about to say it as well, to try and test what it would take to make him lose his cool, what flirting with him would get you, when the doors unexpectedly opened.  The second the gap between the two doors was wider than a centimeter, thereby allowing whoever was outside to actually look inside the lift, Cassian jumped away from the wall until he was face to face with you.  “We have no idea who’s about to enter this lift,” he whispered.  You nodded in response. “Correct.”  “We’re on the ballroom floor, whoever it is knows we didn’t just get on, that we’ve come from downstairs.”  Another nod. There was no need to interrupt him, not when Cassian was clearly trying to come up with a plan to get you out of this situation.  “Do you trust me?,” he asked before quickly correcting himself. “Nevermind, I know that you don’t. But will you play along?”  You barely had the chance to nod before Cassian placed his lips right beneath your ear, kissing you softly.  The gasp you let out was anything but fake. It was a surprise reaction, and one of unexpected pleasure. His lips were soft, a welcome contrast to the rough hairs of his beard, and his hands, that had found their way to your waist, felt good, great even.  As if on autopilot your own hands wandered up his back, settling in his hair, which you finally managed to rough up a bit, bringing it from its combed back style to the wild curls you were used to.  “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything.”  Your eyes flew open at the new voice, too distracted by Cassian’s lips on your hot skin to have noticed another person entering the lift.  Shit, shit, shit, shit. Kriffing shit, ran through your mind. Once again you found yourself on autopilot as you pushed Cassian away from you, ignoring how much you missed his hands, his lips, on your body the second they were gone, as you looked at the other man.  “Grand Moff Tarkin, I am so sorry.”  You cursed yourself, this ball, the entire galaxy, that the person you had to be trapped in a lift with was Tarkin. You would have even preferred Darth Vader himself, at least he would have put you out of your misery instantly.  “Duchess.” Tarkin was too professional to look you up and down in what you presumed to be a dishevelled state, or to really look at Cassian, which you should be thankful for. “I noticed you were arriving from the basement, care to explain why?”  “I-,” Cassian began to explain, but for once he actually shut up when you shot him a pointed look.  “We were heading back up to my suite, must have pushed the wrong button in a hurry,” you were quick to explain. The lie slipped off your tongue easier than expected, especially considering you were lying to one of the most powerful men in the Empire while standing next to a leading member of the Rebellion.  “Yes, I can see that you are in quite a hurry.”  Tarkin’s dry tone didn’t give you any hint as to whether he suspected that something was amiss. Cassian, despite his experience in situations like this, must have been feeling the same way, since his arm once again sneaked around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.  His hand sneaked lower, from your waist to your hip until it rested right on your ass, an act alone that made heat curl in your stomach, but when he gave it a soft squeeze you couldn’t help the small yelp.  Well, as embarrassing as this was in front of Tarkin, at least now you had a better chance of actually selling your story.  As you tried to think of a way to reciprocate Cassian’s action, and coming up short due to his hand still firmly placed on your ass, the lift dinged. Your breath caught in your throat, fearing that even more Imperials would get on, but luck seemed to be on your side as Tarkin, his eyes like ice, looked you straight into the eyes.  “Goodnight, your Grace, sir.”  He left without uttering another word and only once the doors closed behind him did you dare to take a deep breath.  Though he visibly relaxed, Cassian’s hand never left your body. Instead he leaned closer to your, whispering into your ear in a voice that was nothing if not sinful.  “Tell me to stop any time and I will.”  Before you could ask what he was talking about he once again caught your chin between his fingers, turning and lifting your head until he crashed his lips against yours.  If you had thought his kisses felt good against your neck, they were no comparison to having his lips on yours. They were warm, soft, and as your hands once again found their way to his hair and you gave it a single instinctatious tug, they opened for you, allowing you to let your tongue roam freely across his bottom lip and into his mouth, where his own tongue met yours with enthusiasm.  You pressed your body closer to Cassian, needing to feel more, to feel every part of him against every part of you. At the same time his hand left your ass, moving all over your body, leaving trails of hire in its wake, until one hand found its place on your waist, pulling you even closer, and the other began to caress your neck, applying just a tiny hint of pressure.  Your eyes, though firmly closed, rolled back in your head as your hips moved towards his, needing more, more, more.  Suddenly the lift came to a stop, bringing you out of your haze and reminding you that you needed to breathe.  As the doors slid opened Cassian slowly leaned away from you, though nothing more than a sheet of paper would have fit between your bodies even with the newfound distance.  “Wanna finish what we started, pequeña?”  He didn’t have to ask twice. The fact that the man in front of you was Cassian Andor, the person you hated almost as much as the Empire itself, who got on your nerves and never let an opportunity to show you just how inferior he thought you go by, never crossed your mind. Or at least not in the way that it should. Of course you knew that you had just made out with Cassian, but somehow it didn’t bother you as much as it should. Maybe it was because the entire day he had been decent, if not even friendly, towards you, or the fact that there have been heated looks and touches all day that had seemingly only lead to this, or that you were actually beginning to like him when his mouth was occupied with something other than frowning.  “Lead the way, Captain.”  The title simply rolled off your tongue, but as you saw the way Cassian’s shoulders tensed as he exited the lift before you, you noted to use it more often.  As soon as the door to your suite closed behind you, Cassian turned you around, pressing you to the closed door, as his lips found yours again.  The kiss was less heated than that in the lift, more sensual, slower, allowing you to notice all the small details. How soft Cassian’s hair was between your fingers, the scar along the back of his head, the sharp sting as his teeth sank into your bottom lip only for it to be soothed by his tongue. And his hands.  Oh, his hands would surely be the death of you. They roamed all along your body, caressing and squeezing, pushing his jacket, that you still had wrapped around you, to the ground, giving him better access to your neck.  You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you as he kissed from your jaw down your neck all the way to the beginning of your dress.  He leaned back a bit, making your hands fall from his hair, as he just looked at you.  Though a moment before you had been sure that Cassian wanted you as much as you wanted him, doubt suddenly began to creep up.  “What is it?,” you whispered into the dark room, illuminated only by the city lights outside the window.  Cassian shook his head, licked his lips, and shook his head again.  “Nothing.” He stepped closer to you again, placing his hands on your waist, his thumbs slowly stroking your sides. “I just can’t decide whether I want to finally take this dress off of you or fuck you in it.”  The contrast between his soft caresses, his low voice, and his filthy words, made you clench your thighs together. You were insatiable when it came to this man. “Why not do both?” You bit your bottom lip at the possibility, at the thought of simply feeling more of Cassian’s skin against yours. “Or can you only go one round?” Your bold words shocked you, and it wasn’t until you heard Cassian chuckle that you stopped wanting to take them back. From his earlier actions you had presumed that Cassian would prefer a more submissive partner in bed, and you were happy to take that role, but apparently your banter would have a place inside the bedroom as well as out of it.  “You have no idea what I can do, mi duquesita.” His lips found your neck again, gently sucking on the vulnerable skin. “I don’t just plan on fucking you with my cock, I’ll make you come with my tongue first. I’ll have you begging for me.”  You rolled your eyes, playfully this time, as you looked at him with a smirk. You had to admit that Cassian really knew how to build tension but you wouldn’t beg for anyone, anything.  Instead of giving him an answer your hands reached out for his shirt, beginning to unbutton it to grant you access to his skin. Cassian, for once deciding that helping you would be in his best interest, loosened the tie he was wearing around his neck before pulling it over his head.  Finally, you managed to rid him of the bothersome shirt, and get a good look at him. He was well-built, defined but not overly muscular. Scars littered his skin, some large, some small, as well as what seemed to be a rather new bruise. Though you knew that Cassian was in constant danger, that he had probably escaped death more than once, seeing it with your own eyes brought a sense of protectiveness over you you hadn’t experienced before.  You lifted your hands to gently stroke across his shoulders, down his chest, lingering a little longer on each scar. You stepped closer as Cassian watched you carefully, taking note of every slight change of expression.  “Cassian, I... you’re beautiful.”  The words, maybe the truest words you had ever spoken, slipped past your lips. He really was beautiful. Not just because he was handsome, though of course he was, but because his scars told of his struggles, his dedication to the Rebellion, his willingness to risk his life for the good of the galaxy. With soft touches you stroked along every inch of his skin you could reach, hearing his breath stutter as you lips began to follow your fingers. His skin tasted different than his lips, saltier, earthier, but also truer, not altered by anything he ate or drank.  You placed a soft kiss just above his heart, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.  It was that simply action that broke the spell Cassian was under. He bent down until his lips met yours in another kiss, tongues battling for dominance, until he broke the kiss only to fall to his knees in the next instance.  “What are you doi- oh, oh fuck, Cassian,” you exclaimed as it dawned on you.  Cassian, on his knees and his eyes focused solely on his task, took your ankles and gently pushed them to the sides, allowing your legs and thighs to spread further.  “I told you I’d make you come with my tongue,” he said with a smirk before lifting your skirt and diving underneath.  You could barely see him, with most of his upper body hidden beneath your dress, which somehow made it even hotter, leaving you to anticipate his next action, his next touch.  Gently he stroked up your legs, alternating between kissing each of your thighs, sometimes adding a little bite to the mix, until he reached your center.  One hand placed firmly on your waist he took the finger of the other hand to stroke up and down your covered slit.  “Shit, pequeña, you’re soaked.” His finger found your clothed clit and applied gentle pressure, which turned your insides into lava and made your knees buckle. You needed him.  Cassian slipped his finger, still just the one finger, underneath your panties until it rested on your skin, right on your lips. He pressed a soft kiss to the skin just above your panties, not moving his finger.  “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he reminded you, not giving you a chance to reply before he finally, fucking finally, slipped his finger inside you.  The groan he let out at the contact was almost as loud as your own. He moved a bit, trying to get a feel of you, trying to resist to overwhelm you but overcome with desire to feel more of your tight, wet heat at the same time.  ”I’ll buy you a new pair,” he said more to himself than to you, and before you could ask what he was talking about you heard the telltale sound of cloth being ripped apart. Cassian had just torn you underwear from your body.  Slowly, ever so slowly, he moved his finger, and just as he entered your pussy his mouth came into contact with your clit, sucking once, twice, as his finger began to thrust into you.  You had heard talk around the rebels that Cassian had game, that he wasn’t a stranger to taking other rebels to bed or even seducing informants to get what he needs, but you had never really believed any of it. Sure, maybe he had a one night stand every now and then, but so did most people in the Rebellion, you had been so sure that there was no way that Cassian Andor could be as good as the talk suggested.  That was until he brought you to a mindblowing orgasm within an embarrassingly short time.  “Ca- Cass- Fuck,” you stuttered pressing your thighs against his head, trying to draw him closer as waves of pleasure swept over you.  Cassian hummed against your core, taking everything you would give him, still sucking your clit while his hands, though slowing down, massaged your tight walls.  As the last of your orgasm ebbed away, Cassian finally crawled out from underneath your dress, and looked up at you still on his knees, wetness coating his mouth, making his beard seem darker than usual.  “You ready for me to make you beg?”  Despite how quickly he had managed to make you come, and the fact that seeing him like that made you wet all over again, you shook your head.  “In your dreams, Andor.”  He chuckled as he got up, leaning close to you as his mouth found the shell of your ear.  “How did you know what I dream about?,” he whispered, his hand sneaking up your back until you suddenly felt a gush of cold air against your skin.  Cassian had, in one smooth motion, pulled the zipper of your dress down. He looked at you, waited for your slight nod, before pulling at the fabric, making the dress fall off your body until it pooled around your ankles, leaving you in nothing but a bra and shoes.  “Eres mas hermosa que la luz de las estrellas,” Cassian breathed against your lips. His hands found their way to your breasts, squeezing and massaging, and twisting your nipples just right.  “Wait, Cassian, stop,” you gasped as he took one nipple in his mouth through the thin fabric of your bra, sucking in a way that made you see stars. What gave that man the right to be so kriffing good with his mouth?  He immediately let go of you, putting some distance between your bodies, though his hand itched to touch you again, even if just to soothe any harm he might have caused.  “What is it, pequeña? Did I do something wrong?”  He had tried his best to be gentle, to take it slow, not to let his desire overcome him. This was a step in the right direction and he didn’t dare do anything to jeopardize it.  You shook your head, your hand reaching out to take Cassian’s, who let out a relieved breath.  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just... Don’t you want me to... You know...,” you said, suddenly shier than Cassian had ever seen you as you motioned towards the obvious bulge in his trousers.  Yes, his dick was aching for relief, but he knew that this might be his one chance with you and he wouldn’t blow it by making this all about him and his pleasure.  He shook his head. “Not right now.”  You raised an eyebrow, waited a moment, as if to get him to admit that yes, he did want you to get on your knees for him as he had done for you earlier. But he didn’t say anything.  “Just lay on the bed and let me make you feel good, alright?”  It was a question, nothing like the commands he usually spat out at you, and yet you followed more willingly than you had ever done before.  Sex with Cassian wasn’t like you had imagined it, not that you had imagined it a lot, but when you heard talk around the rebels you couldn’t help but imagine at least a bit. Also whenever you looked at him before he opened his mouth to snap at you, or when you caught him looking at you like he was right now, as if he was seeing you for the first time. Not to mention the instant crush you had developed after actually meeting him for the first time, one that quickly burned out after your second meeting.  You got on the bed, lying down still in your bra and shoes, as Cassian crawled over you, his naked chest meeting your clothed one. You didn’t wait to see what he would do, instead hungry for more, you leaned up, capturing his mouth with yours, returning to the heated kisses from earlier.  He returned the kiss with just as much eagerness, licking into your mouth as his hands once again found their way to your breasts. Your own hands wandered across his back, relishing in the feeling of his skin, feeling every inch of softness, contrasted by rough scars.  Despite his earlier insistence on wanting to focus on you, Cassian couldn’t help himself and began to move his hips, agonisingly slow, against yours, making your still sensitive clit rub against the fabric of his trousers.  Your hands found their way to his ass, using the new leverage to push him further down, to give you more contact where you craved it most.  “Cassian, I need you,” you breathed against his lips, trying your best to hold back the ‘please’ that sat on the tip of your tongue. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of begging.  He nodded slightly, moving one of his hands from your breast to rub slow circles onto your clit.  Your entire body felt like fire, like ice, you couldn’t focus on anything but Cassian’s hands on your body, his lips gracing your neck, his erection pressing painfully hard against your core.  Your hands were forced to leave his ass as he sat up on his knees, quickly pulling his trousers and underwear off in one motion, before returning to his position above you, pressing hungry kisses to your lips.  “Are you sure about this?”  Instead of an answer you moved your hips up, giving Cassian delicious friction as his cock met your wet pussy for the first time. The moan he let out was sinful, pornographic, and you could have almost come from the sound alone.  You reached down, feeling his erection in the palm of your hand, giving is a few good strokes before gently placing the tip right at your entrance.  “Show me what you got, Captain,” you told him with a smirk.  Cassian bottomed out in one swift stroke, not giving you the chance for another witty remark, instead making you moan as he filled you just right. It was a stretch, but not an uncomfortable one, as if he was meant to be right there.  You began to move your hips, trying to get Cassian to move as well, to give you more, when he pushed you down with a heavy breath, making you halt your movements.  “Shit, pequeña, give me a moment. I need- need to-,” he groaned as you ignored his request, moving your legs this time, wrapping them around his waist, pushing him impossibly deeper into your heat.  Cassian looked at you with new fire in his eyes. “You wanna play dirty?”  He didn’t give you a chance to respond before he pulled out, leaving only the tip inside of you, and slammed back in with newfound vigour. You didn’t have enough air in your lungs to moan, to even breathe, all you could do was think that you wanted more, needed more, that maybe he’d have you begging for him after all.  He set a rough pace, slamming in and out of you again and again until you were finally able to adjust and move your hips in sync with his. Your hands wandered up to his head, pulling him down in a bruising kiss, biting his lips, licking into his mouth. What had started as sex, as making love almost, had quickly turned into fucking, but by the stars it brought you closer and closer to the edge.  As you felt yourself nearing another orgasm, needing just a little bit more to push you over the edge, you removed one of your hands from Cassian’s hair with the intent of giving some attention to your aching clit.  Cassian, however, quick as a whip, caught both your hands in one of his, pinning them above your head with a shake of his head.  “Not so fast. I told you I’d have you begging.”  You couldn’t think of a reply, could barely even shake your head, with his fast pace, the way his cock hit that spot over and over again.  To hell with your pride.  “Please, please, Cassian, make me come. I need it, Captain, I need you.”  You felt his cock twitch inside of you, grinning as you had seemingly found his weak spot. Nevermind that begging was something you were usually too proud to do, especially with a man in the bedroom, if it brought Cassian that close to the edge you could use it to your advantage. Add to that your newfound knowledge of how much he liked being addressed by his title and you knew you could tease him for the rest of his days.  “You fuck me so good, Captain. Please let me come,” you whispered in his ear.  The hand around your wrists began to shake ever so slightly, telling you just how much you were really affecting him. His other hand finally found its way to your clit, rubbing slow circles that rapidly began to increase in speed. You had him right where you wanted him, and he still thought he was the one in control.  “I knew you’d beg,” he grinned, supposed victory obvious in your voice.  You came. Your vision went white, ecstasy burned through your veins. You couldn’t remember having an orgasm like this ever before.  Cassian continued to fuck you through it, his pace never slowing down as he began to near his own end. He began to stutter just as you calmed down, making him lose control for a moment, just long enough for you to gather all your energy and twist your bodies, making you end up on top of Cassian, who suddenly found himself on his back.  “Wha- what are you doing?”  You grinned down at him as you sat up on your knees, slowly beginning to bounce on his cock.  “You didn’t think I would be the only one to beg, did you, Captain?,” you asked in a sickly sweet voice before leaning down again, pressing your tits against his chest, pushing your hips down at the same time as your lips reached his mouth. “I bet you sound real pretty when you ask me to make you come.”  Cassian could do nothing but thrust his hips up, unable to regain control as you clenched around him, bringing him ever closer to the edge but not close enough.  You continued bouncing, clenching, stroking your clit with one hand while the other was placed firmly above Cassian’s racing heart. You truly were a vision to behold, tits bouncing, face twisted in pleasure, mouth open in a silent scream. Cassian was sure that in that moment he could die a happy man, or almost happy at least, he still needed to come. The thought of releasing inside of you, of marking you where no one else would see it, made him go feral, push his hips up further, faster. And just as he was about to come, you halted your movements.  “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?,” you laughed. The hand above his heart wandered along his chest, up his neck where it came to rest. You squeezed gently, not enough to make him lose his breath, just enough to tell him that you could, to remind him that you were now the one in control.  You began to move again, clenching even tighter around his dick, telling him that you were about to come again while not giving him enough to join you.  “Shit, mi duquesita, you want me to beg? Fine, I’ll beg,” Cassian grunted, no longer caring that you were using his own tactic against him. “Please, I beg of you, let me come, make me come. I’ll do whatever you want.”  The image of Cassian on his knees flashed before your eyes again. You supposed that having him eating you out once more before you’d have to leave in the morning would be enough to grant him an orgasm right now.  Your hand around his neck tightened, as did your walls around his cock. Your bounces became faster again, deeper, as Cassian pushed himself up to meet you halfway. Just as you felt yourself nearing another orgasm a hot rope of cum caught you by surprise, leading you to quickly give way to pleasure again.  Coming together with Cassian was almost poetic, your moans, the wet sound of skin slapping against skin, and heavy breathing filled the air before you finally fell down on top of him, utterly spend.  Your head came to rest on his shoulder, his now softening dick still buried deep inside of you. Cassian’s hand stroked up and down your back, every now and then playfully squeezing your ass.  “That was...,” he began before stopping. There were no words to describe what that was. It was unlike any sex he had ever had.  “Yeah,” you admitted, relaxing even more against him.  You felt your eyes beginning to drop, your breathing to even, and maybe you had fallen asleep for a little while when you suddenly felt yourself moving.  Opening your eyes again you realised that Cassian had carried you over to the bathroom. He put you down, holding you a moment longer to make sure that your feet would carry you, before nodding in the direction of the toilet.  “I’ll leave you to it.”  He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in the bathroom, alone with your thoughts.  You slept with Cassian Andor. The Cassian Andor, the one you couldn’t stand, who you were pretty sure couldn’t stand you either, and it was good, great even. You let out a sigh as you went about your business in the bathroom, shaking your head as you flushed the toilet and grabbed a clean cloth to at least try to clean the bed enough to sleep in it tonight.  But as you re-entered the room you were caught by surprise once again. Cassian had stripped the bed, leaving nothing but the bare mattress, blankets and pillows. He handed you a bottle of water as you stepped closer.  “I think it might be best if we both sleep in my bed tonight,” he said as you drank almost the entire bottle in one go.  Too tired to argue, to explain why that would be a bad idea, you simply nodded your head, following Cassian to the other room and sitting down on his slightly smaller bed.  “Do you need anything else?”  You shook your head as you sank down onto the bed, burying your head in the soft pillows. You were fast asleep before Cassian could even turn off the lights. 
-------
The next morning Cassian woke to your soft snores next to him.  Though he had placed his arms around you last night, you had drifted away from him in your sleep, giving him a good view of your face. You looked younger in your sleep, peaceful, less troubled. Looking at your innocent face now Cassian couldn’t understand how he could once have thought you to be an enemy, someone who only gave the Rebellion just enough to get your own gain. Over time, but especially last night, he had come to realise that he had been wrong about you. He now understood that though you didn’t do as much as you maybe could, it was for a good reason, you couldn’t risk gaining unwanted attention, putting everyone you laid your life on the line to protect in danger.  His eyes drifted away from your sleeping face towards the clock on the nightstand, which made his heart race for a whole other reason.  You were late.  Quickly he got dressed, threw the essentials into a duffle bag, and shook your shoulder.  “Wake up, we need to catch the next ship out of here if we’re to deliver the list in time.”  You blinked, lights rapidly attacking your eyes, only to see Cassian, already dressed, standing over you. It took you a moment to remember the events of last night, how you had ended up naked in his bed, but once the memories returned, so did your usual anger at him.  Was he really about to pretend that last night hadn’t happened? Go back to business as usual?  Without another word you threw on your underwear, a pair of comfortable trousers and a simply blouse before taking the bag Cassian offered you and sneaking out of the room together.  You tried your best to act as if the man next to you was nothing more than a guard once again, putting on an act for any Imperials who might be watching.  “Are you leaving us already?,” the same lieutenant who had greeted you last night asked as you were about to exit the building.  You nodded. “There are urgent matters I need to attend to back home. No rest for the wicked and all that.”  He seemed to believe you, to not notice the uncertainty in your voice, and let you pass to hurry to the waiting speeder.  The journey to Yavin 4, the rebel base you had only visited once before, was uneventful. You and Cassian barely shared more than a few words, though admittedly you were always surrounded by either your staff oder Imperial border controls, which did make speaking about last night rather difficult.  Finally at base, having sent all but your most trusted staff ahead to Kamaanti, you turned to face Cassian for what felt like the first time in an eternity.  He looked at you, an expression on his face that you had never seen before. His brows were drawn, his lips pressed into a thin line. If you didn’t know any better you would have said he seemed uncertain, nervous almost.  You opened your mouth to speak, wanting to set the tone for the conversation. On the way over you had planned it all out, you were going to say that though you didn’t regret anything, and though the sex was great, it didn’t change things between you, it couldn’t.  “Captain Andor, Mon Mothma wants to speak to you,” a Togruta woman you didn’t know told him in passing.  Cassian’s eyes scanned your face as if to anticipate your reaction.  “You should go,” you told him, trying your best not to sound disappointed. Right now you were prepared to have this conversation with him, you didn’t know if you’d be as prepared later. “We’ll talk later.”  With a nod and one last look at you over his shoulder Cassian made his way to give the mission report. You’d still be there when he came back, he would only be gone a couple of minutes and it seemed as if you wanted to talk just as much as he did, you wouldn’t run.  But ‘later’ turned into days, weeks.  By the time Cassian returned from the briefing you were long gone, needed for an emergency on Kamaanti, ironically the same excuse you had given the Imperial lieutenant earlier that day.  Cassian couldn’t reach you, he didn’t know how to, the only people in the Rebellion who could actually reach you were Ahsoka Tano and Bail Organa and it wasn’t like Cassian could just go over to either of them and tell them that he needed to talk to you.  It wasn’t until almost two months later that he heard from you again. He had just returned from a mission, rather short and easy compared to what he was used to, when he ran into Ahsoka on the way back to his room.  “Captain Andor, there you are,” she said more to herself than to Cassian, though he still heard her.  “Is something the matter?”  The Togruta shook her head, lekkus moving with it. “No, everything’s fine. The Duchess of Kamaanti was just looking for you earlier.”  The words caught Cassian off guard. By now he had convinced himself that he wouldn’t hear from you again, that he should put what happened between the two of you in the past.  “Where is she?” He knew he sounded impatient, probably shouldn’t talk to Ahsoka like this, but he needed to see you, to finally have that talk he had been waiting for for months.  A small smirk found the way to Ahsoka’s lips at his urgency. “She left, she was only here to drop something off.”  Cassian nodded, forcing down a sigh. Of course you had slipped through his fingers again.  Yet another month went by until he heard from you again.  Cassian was called into a meeting early in the morning, earlier than usual that is, and he was just about to close his eyes for a second, just one second, after yet another sleepless night staring at reports and mission plans, when he heard your name.  “-and Klieml will attend the dinner, during which there is sure to be talk.”  Cassian cursed himself internally for not paying attention that very second. The meeting, though important,  didn’t really concern him, not when he had so many other things to do, and some much needed sleep to catch up on. What had they said? Why would they send Janna Klieml on a mission with you instead of him?  “Because, Captain Andor, this is an important mission and we cannot risk either of you messing it up with that little feud of yours,” Mon Mothma said matter of factly, making Cassian realise that in his sleep deprived state he had actually asked his questions out loud.  Cassian couldn’t do anything except nod. He could argue, try to convince Mon Mothma that  he should be the one to accompany you, later when there were less people around. Though even then he had no idea how to convince her, how to explain to her that he didn’t hate you anymore, probably never hated you but only your title and that it was one you actually did your best to use not only to your own, but the Rebellion’s, advantage.  “As I was saying,” Mon Mothma continued. “The Duchess will hopefully get valuable information during the dinner while Klieml will try to get General Truks’s staff to talk.”  The rest of the meeting went by quickly, Cassian tried his best to pay better attention, to not let your upcoming mission consume his thoughts. But as soon as everyone else left the room he walked straight over to Mon Mothma.  “I think I should be send on this mission instead of Klieml. I accompanied her to the masquerade ball a while back, Imperials have already seen the two of us together, if would be less suspicious than having her show up with a new personal guard.”  Mon Mothma looked him up and down, clearly trying to asses the situation, to find out Cassian’s motivation for asking for this mission.  “Andor,” she finally said. “We both know that the Duchess has a big staff, multiple guards, and that it wouldn’t be suspicious for her to have another guard accompany her, a female guard at that, especially to this dinner. So if you want to convince me to give you this mission you’ll have to give me the real reason you want it.”  Cassian, skilled spy that he was, knew that lying would be pointless. Not only would Mothma be able to see through any lie, it wouldn’t get him what he wanted anyway.  “I need to speak to the Duchess, we have unfinished business. I also know her better than Klieml, we’ve worked together before and had to come up with plans on the spot. Despite our differences we’re a good team.”  He looked her straight in the eyes, not knowing whether he had given her enough to convince her.  “I’m going to give you this mission against my better judgement, but know that if you fail there will be consequences, not just for you, but for the entire Rebellion.” Cassian nodded. He had anticipated that much, after all, what mission was without consequences? But if that meant he’d have the chance to talk to you, even if just to make sure that your relationship hadn’t taken a turn for the worse, he’d take it. 
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Cassian came to regret his decision as soon you he laid eyes on you.  He had been waiting in your personal library for you to show up so he could accompany you to the dining room, where you would greet your guest. Finally the door opened and you walked through. It wasn’t your dress that caught his attention, though it was of course stunning, but rather the look in your eyes. “Cassian,” you said, clearly trying not to let any emotions show.   He didn’t know what to do other than to repeat your name in the same astonished voice. He cleared his throat. Once, twice.  “I don’t think right now is a good time to talk,” you finally said after a moment of silence.  “We should talk,” Cassian said at the same time.  You stepped closer to him, closing the door behind you, looking the two of you into a room with nothing else but a thousand books.  Cassian could smell your perfume in the air, the same scent you had worn that fateful night, the same scent that reminded him of your moans, the taste of your skin. He had to get this off his chest now, otherwise he knew he wouldn’t be able to fully concentrate on the mission.  “We have a dinner, a mission, we-,” you stopped talking as Cassian stepped closer, as he placed his hand on your cheek.  He began to stroke the soft skin of your cheek, relishing the touch of your skin against his, longing to place his lips on yours once more.  “We have enough time for one conversation, mi duquesita,” he insisted.  You nodded your head, unable to stop yourself. Deep down you knew, same as Cassian, that you needed to get this out of the way now in order to be able to concentrate during the dinner.  “I wont apologise for what happened on Coruscant, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Cassian stated, making you shake your head.  You hadn’t been looking for an apology, weren’t going to issue one either.  You had spent countless hours thinking of your next encounter with Cassian, planning every single word ahead of time, only to now find yourself speechless in his presence.  “I think that maybe it’s good that it happened, that we did what we did. Maybe it was what we needed in order to release some tension.”  Cassian could only nod along with your words. He had been thinking along the same lines. As soon as he kissed you for the first time all the tension, the hate, that usually floated between the two of you had disappeared. Maybe that was what your relationship was supposed to be like, heated tension building until you could release it in a physical way.  “Maybe we should keep it going,” you suggested, your voice wavering ever so slightly as you spoke again.  Though this was something Cassian himself had thought as well he was somewhat surprised to hear it out of your mouth. He gently stroked along your cheek with the hand that was still holding your face. He knew, as did you, that it would be a good arrangement, it would help you release not only the tension between the two f you that endangered neither your own lives nor the Rebellion, while at the same time giving you an outlet for all the stress said dangerous lives led to.  “Just casual sex?”  You nodded, confirming the deal. “Nothing more. Enemies with benefits, so to say.”  Cassian leaned closer, resting his forehead against yours as your hands found their way to his hips.  “Are we enemies, mi duquesita?”  His low voice and that nickname made you clench your thighs. It brought back memories you really shouldn’t think about right before an important dinner. That’s what was so great about this, you didn’t have to think of Cassian, not the way you would think of a romantic partner, while going about your day to day life, while behind closed doors you could indulge in all the sinful ways he could offer you pleasure.  “We’re not friends.”  A small smirk found its way to Cassian’s lips as he leaned impossibly closer, letting his breath ghost over your own lips.  “No, we’re not friends,” he repeated in a teasing voice that brought a smile to your lips, the first genuine smile all day. “And I don’t think we ever will be.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, chaste and almost sweet, but the moment you tried to deepen it he pulled away again.  “We’re something else entirely,” he whispered.  And just as you were about to reply a knock on the door and a quiet voice from the hallway told you that your guest had arrived. 
------- 
While a lot could be said about the dinner, it wasn’t boring.  General Willem Trusk had recently been promoted and was now an Imperial officer of great standing, highly trusted by Tarkin, and it was rumoured even by the Emporer himself. He was also surprisingly funny and good looking for a ruthless fascist, which you had known before, this being your fourth meeting and second private dinner with him, but it shocked you every time.  “I must admit, there is never a dull moment with you, Duchess.”  You shook your head as you lifted your wine glass to your slips, trying to hide the small smile on your lips. Sure, he was a terrible person, but he was still a good looking man your age who had just complimented you.  “Please, I think we’re way beyond such formalities. I would like for you to call me by my first name.”  Other than you Trusk didn’t even try to hide his smile. You knew you had him right where you wanted him. It took every bit of self control you had not to glance over to the corner of the room where Cassian stood, once again wearing the uniform of your personal guard.  You knew Cassian would have to leave soon, to mingle with the staff Trusk had brought with him and try to get information out of them, but right now you took comfort in knowing that he was here, and that you had come to an arrangement about your relationship.  “You have been kind enough to invite me for dinner twice now, I think it is about time I repaid the favour, though of course I don’t have a palace as grant as yours. There is however a very nice dinner party for high-ranking Imperial officers soon and it would be an honour if you were to accompany me,” Tusk said, looking you straight in the eye while he spoke as if searching for awe in them. “Usually only spouses are allowed to accompany officers but I’m sure they’d make an exception for the Duchess of Kamaanti.”  The words echoed in Cassian’s brain as he made his way through the servants’ hallway to the kitchen. Another guard, an actual guard this time, had taken his place, and he was now supposed to get any information he could gather out of the General’s own staff. One was a pretty Twi’lek girl, one he would usually flirt with until she gave him what he wanted, but right now, whenever he thought of a pick up line or anything else to say to her, your face kept popping up in his brain.  He finally reached the kitchen, which was almost quiet now that dinner and desert had been served, and it only took him a moment to spot the Twi’lek girl he thought to be his best chance to get information.  Cassian grabbed a piece of bread and some cheese from an abandoned plate before making his way over to her. He casually leaned against the whole, breaking off half of his bread to offer to her.  “You must be hungry.” Not the smoothest way to start a conversation but better than nothing.  But the girl just shook her head. “I was given a good dinner. The Duchess is very generous.”  Cassian just nodded. He had barely managed to keep you out of his head for a few moment and yet there you were again.  “You’re lucky to be working for someone as kind as she is,” the girl continued and it took all of Cassian’s strength not to roll his eyes. Of course he just had to have chosen the one servant who didn’t enjoy gossip.  “Though if all goes to plan of course I will be working for her as well very soon.”  This finally managed to catch Cassian off guard. He tore off another piece of bread, quickly chewing before asking whether she was going to quit her job with the General to come working for you.  The Twi’lek shook her head with a laugh that seemed genuine, almost as if she was laughing about Cassian.  “I meant that surely the will combine their staff once they’re married. I supposed the General will move to Kamaanti to be closer to his wife and-”  Cassian held up a hand, interrupting her before she could say anything else. His brain was working so hard there might as well be steam coming out of his ears. Were you engaged to that Imperial? How could no one have told him? Why didn’t you?  “I had no idea they were that serious,” he finally said, trying his best to swallow the last bit of cheese despite his suddenly very dry throat.  She laughed again and this time the sound was beginning to anger Cassian.  “They’re not. Not yet at least, but the General is going to propose very soon. He needs a wife, all the high ranking officers have one and the Duchess is the perfect candidate. She’s powerful, wealthy, beautiful, and he actually seems to like her, something that cannot be said for all married officers.”  She spoke matter of factly, as if expecting Cassian to already know all of this. If he really were working for you he probably would, but Imperial marriages weren’t her area of expertise.  “Rumour also has it that the General is going to be given some big secret task, so maybe he wants to settle down before that, to have someone to lean on if he is given more responsibility,” she added, and before Cassian could say anything else, try to get any information out of her regarding said task, a young servant boy entered the kitchen, saying that the General was leaving and that you were asking for Cassian. 
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Cassian slammed the door shut behind him, making you jump from where you sat at you vanity, applying moisturiser.  You turned around, a deadly look in your eyes.  “You were supposed to be here half an hour ago,” you started. “And don’t slam doors again.”  Cassian couldn’t even look at you, not now that he knew that those same eyes had just looked at an Imperial as your potential husband, that those lips had smiled at him, maybe even kissed him. Rage took over his body, rage that he had worked his entire life to keep under control, and yet you somehow brought it out without saying a single word. Or maybe because you didn’t say a word.  “When were you going to tell me that you’ll marry him?”  The words were out before Cassian could stop himself.  You looked him up and down and Cassian couldn’t tell whether you were thinking of what to say or waiting for him to continue.  “I wasn’t aware that my personal life was any of your business,” you finally said, getting up from your vanity and pulling on the robe that had been hanging over the chair.  Cassian didn’t pay any attention to the soft silk adorning your nearly naked body, nor the thin pyjama that covered very little and even then was almost see through. How could you not see how dangerous a game you were playing?  “This isn’t personal, it’s about the Rebellion. What do you think your husband would do if he found out? Do you think he’d be merciful?”  You scoffed. With slow steps you walked over to Cassian until you were standing right in front of him, your naked feet touching the tips of his shoes, your chests almost pressed together.  “Of course it’s about the Rebellion, what do you think why I’m doing this? I don’t love him, I don’t even like him, but he’s more powerful than I could ever hope to be.” A sad smile crossed your lips. “Can you imagine the information he has? What I could get my hands on as his wife?”  Cassian could. As the General’s wife you would have the highest ranking Imperials over as dinner guests, would be part of the inner circle and gain knowledge you simply cannot right now. The rational part of him knew that it was a good plan, and yet he disliked it.  He lifted his hand, slowly stroking along your cheekbone with his index finger before cupping your face in his hand and leaning his forehead against yours.  “Please, be careful.” He took a deep breath, the words flowing freely from his mouth. “I’ve lost so many friends, good friends, I cannot lose you too.”  You lifted your hand to run it through his hair, a gesture so soft it made Cassian sigh due to the comfort it brought. He didn’t remember the last time someone had touched his as gently as you did, the last time someone made him feel as at home as you did.  “I wasn’t aware that we’re friends,” you whispered, your lips now ghosting over his own. “Just a few hours ago we weren’t, and until a couple of weeks ago we were basically sworn enemies.”  Cassian opened his mouth but before any words could get out you pressed your lips against his, capturing them in a heated kiss.  “You’re right,” he panted as he pressed sloppy kisses down your neck, pushing your dressing gown out of the way to gain access to all the skin your pyjama showed. “We’re not friends.”  The way he said it set your whole body on fire. In the end if didn’t even matter what you called yourself, all that mattered was the way Cassian made you feel with a few whispered words, with his lips and tongue and fingers. And his cock.  You could already feel it pressing against your lower stomach, hard and firm even through the tick material of his trousers.  You hadn’t had the opportunity last time but now you were dying to taste him, to bring him pleasure with just your hands and mouth. You no longer wanted him to beg for you, you wanted own him.  Just as you were about to sneak a hand to the button of his trousers, Cassian began to suck on the soft skin between your neck and shoulder, a place so obvious and visible you would for sure have to cover it tomorrow.  “You’re mine,” Cassian said, his voice loud and clear, as he leaned away to fully look at what you were sure was a hickey that would stand out for days to come.  His words made you clench your thighs together, you were sure that by now you had soaked through not only your underwear but also your thin pyjama shorts.  The way he looked at you only underlined his words. It wasn’t the look of superiority and ownership with which Trusk had regarded you earlier, it was a look that spoke of belonging, of wanting to protect what was yours, of desire.  You didn’t know what to say so you did the only thing that felt right. You unbuttoned his trousers, pulled the zipper down with a loud noise, but your hands didn’t go straight to his cock, which by now you were sure must have been aching. Instead you let your hands roam free under his shirt, feeling his soft skin against yours, running your fingers over every ab and scar before settling one hand on his rapidly beating heart.  Cassian, whose hands had fallen to your waist, looked at you. He didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything, he just looked at you.  Reluctantly you removed your hands from his chest. You leaned up to press a quick kiss to Cassian’s lips before making quick work his the bothersome shirt, ripping it more than unbuttoning.  “Someone’s a little eager,” Cassian finally said.  You looked up at him from beneath your eyelashes, trying your best to look innocent, as if you hadn’t just ripped the clothes from his back.  “Just trying to get a look at what’s mine.” The words had left your lips before you could stop yourself. Only once you saw Cassian’s soft smile did you realise that you were glad you had said it. Maybe the two of you were nothing more than fuck buddies, but right here, right now, Cassian belonged to you.  You finally pushed his shirt out of the way and Cassian did the rest of the work, getting it off and throwing it somewhere, neither of you caring where the bothersome piece of clothing had landed.  You looked at Cassian, at how the soft lights in the room reflected in his eyes, on his skin, making shadows appear darker, casting him in an ethereal light.  You let out a breath you’ve been holding, the air escaping from your lungs ghosting over Cassian’s naked chest, making goose bumps rise up in the process. You fought the smirk threatening to rise to your lips. It was a unique sort of power, knowing that you could make Cassian feel like this by something as simple as breathing. It had you wondering what else you could to do him.  “Take off your clothes,” you whispered into his ear, your voice as seductive as you could make it sound.  Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. He kicked off his shoes and socks before quickly pulling down his trousers and underwear in one swift motion. Within seconds he stood before you, no clothes to hid behind, baring it all to you.  You pressed a quick kiss to his lips. one of your hands finding his cock at the same time and giving it a few strokes. Already you could feel precum at the tip. You wondered whether Cassian was this eager with everyone he slept with or if you really did hold some unique power over him.  His own hands wandered to the bottom of your top, slowly lifting it inch by inch.  “Your turn, mi duquesita.”  But you only shook your head. You had something else in mind, and a favour to repay, he wouldn’t get you naked this easy.  Gently, but firm, you took his hands in yours, removing them from your top and instead leading him over to a gigantic armchair in the corner of the room. This was where you usually curled up with a book, or sometimes with reports late at night when you couldn’t sleep.  Cassian understood without needing to be told. He sat down, his knees just far enough apart to allow you to stand between them. You settled yourself on one of his thighs, leaning forward to trail kisses all over his exposed neck, up to his jaw, where his beard tickled your lips in an almost familiar way. Cassian twisted underneath your touch as one of your hands found his dick again, swirling the leaking precum around the tip and giving it a few strokes just as your lips captured his in a heated kiss. He let out an almost needy moan as your tongues met just as you squeezed his cock, a sound that you knew you would do your best to hear again and again.  Before you knew it you had swung one of your legs over his thigh and involuntary begun to move, rubbing yourself on his leg, giving much needed relief to your aching clit.  You opened your mouth in a breathless pant as Cassian removed one of his hands from your hips, where he had put them to steady you and move you along his thigh at the same time, to sneak it through the bottom of your shorts and panties to your clit. He didn’t circle it like you had expected, instead he gave it a soft squeeze, almost painful but too pleasurable to really notice the ache.  There was nothing to be done to muffle your scream.  “That’s it, let me hear you.”  You continued to move your hands and your hips, your orgasm building quicker and quicker as Cassian caught one of your clothes nipples in his mouth, wetting the material with his tongue before biting down ever so softly, only to soothe it with this tongue once more.  In the end you weren’t sure whether it was his leg beneath your pussy, his fingers on your clit, his mouth on your breasts, or the filthy encouragements he whispered that had you unraveling. There was no holding back the moans as you finished, nor did you want to hold them in, not when you could feel Cassian’s dick twitching with every sound from your mouth, with every bit of wetness leaking through your clothes.  “That’s it, that’s my good girl.” His lips ghosted over yours, barely touching, just taking comfort in sharing this moment, sharing the same air. “I bet Trusk could never make you feel like this.”  And the moment was gone.  You sat up straight, tried your best to look as if Cassian hadn’t just rocked your world, as you looked him in the eyes. There was something of defiance in them, as well as something darker, something buried deep inside, that you couldn’t quite identify.  “Way to ruin the moment, Andor.”  Your hands slipped from his still hard dick and in the next second you got up, suddenly feeling dirty and wanting to be as far away from Cassian as possible.  You walked over to your window, wrapped your arms around yourself, as you looked over the darkness outside. A few lamps were illuminating the park beneath your window, in the distance you could see small lights, probably servants smoking. You refused to look at your reflection, instead straining your eyes to focus on anything else, even if it was something as simple as a tree.  You had been so focused on ignoring Cassian, expecting him to get dressed and leave the room, that it took you by surprise when you felt warm hands on your cold body. It was only when he wrapped his arms around you, one around your waist and one around your shoulders, and pulled you against his chest that you noticed that you had in fact started to shiver in your thin pyjama.  “I didn’t mean to offend you.”  You looked at Cassian’s reflection in the window, only to see that he was already looking at you. His grip tightened as he noticed your gaze, almost as if he was afraid you would pull away from him.  “We should get away from the window,” you finally said after moments of silence. “Someone might see. It isn’t proper.”  You felt Cassian’s chuckle against your back before you heard it. His lips attached themselves to your neck once more, peppering soft kisses along it.  “Nothing about our relationship is proper.”  You didn’t say anything. Didn’t correct that there was no relationship between the two of you. Instead you looked at him, at his soft brown hair that you had run your fingers through, the small scar above his eyebrow that was probably the result of some daring tale, his beard, that had felt so good against your skin. You knew that you had never truly hated Cassian, had only ever reflected his negative feelings towards you back at him, but now you were beginning to wonder if you reflected all feelings back. Ever since you had last seen him you had thought of your relationship, of when it all went wrong after a first meeting that had left you wanting to see the handsome rebel again. You knew that something must have happened between your first and second meeting and that whatever had changed Cassian’s opinion on you had once again shifted.  “Cassian, why don’t you want me to marry Trusk?”  It was a simple question, one that you thought you deserved to know the answer to.  Now it was Cassian who avoided looking at you. He pressed a kiss to your head before resting his forehead against your shoulder, breathing in your scent, grounding himself in the moment.  “I have given so much to the Rebellion,” he whispered into the dark. “And I was glad to give everything I had. I would give my life and do so willingly, but I won’t give you.”  You turned around in his arms, forcing him to lift his head and look at you. One of your hands cupped his cheek, just holding him.  “I am not yours to give, Cassian.”  He leaned into your touch, closed his eyes and nodded slightly.  “I know.” He was silent for a moment and you didn’t know what to say either. After what felt like an eternity he continued. “I know it doesn’t make any sense but when I first met you I thought there might be something there, something we could build on. I found myself wishing that we had met under different circumstances, in a different time. And then I got back and I found out who you were, that you carry a title that stands for everything I have spend most of my life fighting against.”  You didn’t know what to say. You had always suspected that your title was the reason behind Cassian’s changed attitude towards you but hearing it out of his mouth was something else, it twisted something inside you. Did he still feel this way?  “It felt like a future was being ripped from my hands, a future we likely wouldn’t have had to begin with. I thought that you were only helping the Rebellion to ease your conscience, tossing us a bone every once in a while to keep us hooked. And yet I couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. I wanted to hate you, tried to make myself hate you.”  You nodded. You had felt the same way. At first you had hoped to find a friend in Cassian but even after a short conversation you could tell that there was a chance the two of you could become something more. And then he changed, he seemed to despise you, and you tried to mirror his behaviour, his feelings, and yet you mourned for what could have been.  “I realised that I was wrong the night of the ball, and that I had wasted so much time in trying to hate you. Time we could have spent together.”  The look in Cassian’s eyes made your insides melt. He was being honest, vulnerable, putting his heart in your hands.  “We don’t even really know each other. You don’t know my mother’s name, I don’t know your favourite colour. Who’s to say that we would even work?”  Cassian twisted his head, pressing a soft kiss to your wrist. That simple gesture, the way he made your heartbeat quicken, told you that you would burn down the entire galaxy to find a way for your relationship to work. Cassian Andor had a way of turning off the logical part of your brain.  “But I know how you make me feel, how I make you feel. I know that you’re my home, you’re the one thing in the galaxy that means more to me than the Rebellion. I’ve been a fighter my whole life but with you I’ve found peace.”  You stepped impossibly closer to him, removing your hand from his cheek in order to wrap your arms around him as you rested your head on his chest, taking comfort in the steady beating of his heart.  “We agreed to be casual just a few hours ago, Cassian.”  You breathed in his scent, relished in feeling his skin under your hands, your cheek. You’ve heard tales of soulmates, of people bound together by what you parents used to call the Force. They had grown up in a different time, in a time where it was still easy to believe in fairytales and true love, in knights guided by a higher power. You had never hoped to find what they had, the love the two of them shared, had always known that your marriage would be a political one. There was no love under the Empire, only loss.  And yet, maybe that was what this was between you and Cassian, maybe feeling drawn to him, knowing that you could easily love him if only you let yourself, meant that you were soulmates.  “That was before I knew that I could lose you.”  You thought about his words. Yes, you could marry Trusk and be out of Cassian’s reach, but you could also be the one to lose him. He risked his life every day, the scars all over his body told of how often he had only narrowly escaped death. You had seen his name on the Empire’s kill list with your own eyes.  “I can’t promise you forever. I can’t promise not to marry Trusk if it’s what’s best for the Rebellion. But I can promise that I’ll be yours as long as the stars allow.”  You lifted your head from Cassian’s chest to look at him, only to find his eyes already focused on you. He moved a hand to the back of your neck, gently tracing his fingers through your hair.  “As long as the stars allow,” he repeated, whispering the words against your lips, against your neck, as his lips moved down.  And even if the stars, fate, the Force or whatever power controlled the galaxy were to decide that Cassian was ripped from you the very next day, at least you were allowed one perfect night together. 
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Ok, this was honestly a mess! Not only was it my second (and first published) time writing smut, I also had no idea where the story was supposed to go and it ended kinda weird. I might one day write a part two to make up for that, we’ll see. 
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Thanks to @blue-ties-and-green-eyes for helping with the Spanish! 
Taglist (I’m just gonna tag everyone who liked the Sneak Peak):  @ducktruffles  @fandom-switch @fanofverymanythings @moonlightfoxs-blog  @leonkennedyslefthand @marvelbros-oneshots @starstriker027 @queenbillie1637 @mushyluvr99 @wwesarahjaneroszko @iovesaint @luthienpallanen  @multifandom-loser @gothamincorrect  @lunarisnightmare @spectors-film @brittney22  @beautifulfreaklawyercroissant @hiddlebatchedloki @jessi55555  @noeliaxvpelluz  @skyemaria91121  @theblondeone-029  @juliette151  @chocogato777 @skyewardsherlock221b 
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