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andy-solo1 · 2 years

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Heartache [Cassian Andor x Reader]

Cassian Andor x Reader

Part 1 of a 3 part fic for Cassian Andor x reader.

Warnings: Angst, Andor spoilers, brief mentions of suicide, cannon typical violence, mentions of death, cannon character death

Words: 4,554

Notes: This is the longest single chapter I’ve ever written and I poured everything I had into it. I really hope you all enjoy it.

* * *

“On program!” Kino yells and you quickly place yourself into position. You lost track of the amount of times you’d done this. The days spent toiling away, each passing by in an endless blur just like the day before. Hope was a nonexistent entity. Your only hope on any day was not being the team in last place.

You’d heard the whispers of an uprising. You’d seen the others communicating between floors, trying desperately to find a way out. But you knew it was a hopeless endeavour. There were only two ways of getting out of Narkina 5. By finishing your sentence and being freed, or in a body bag.

The officer on the level above shoved forward the latest poor soul to enter the compound and rode the small elevator down. You studied the new man, his brown eyes blown wide as he took everything in. You knew what he must be feeling, for you’d stood in his place once. And realising that this is what your fate was, was a crushing feeling indeed.

After the guard was gone and Kino gave his speech, the new guy moved in towards his table, the one next to yours as work started back up once more. You kept your eyes glued to the task before you, unwilling to let your group fall behind, to be the last team. Even as you focused on your task you could hear the murmurings of the group next to yours, curiosity driving you to pay some attention to what they were saying.

“What’s your name?” Melshi asked, probably already guiding the new guy into his work.

“Keef Girgo.” The man replied curtly, and that was the last you heard from the group as Kino snapped at them to get to work.

* * *

The flames flicked high into the sky, casting the world around you in a red glow. Your eyes strained to see anything through the flames and smoke. The same smoke that was filling your lungs, making each breath feel like another flame was burning within your lungs.

You screamed, looking all over to try and find your family. You knew they were here somewhere within the flamed wreckage of what had once been a peaceful village.

Someone far off screamed in pain and you thought you recognized their scream. You turned to go towards them when a tight, vice-like grip grabbed hold of your arm. You let out your own wailing scream of despair as the stormtrooper gripping your arm began to drag you out and away from your home.

You struggled against him with all your might, but he wouldn’t let go, rather he tightened his grip upon you. You were strong, working the soil all your life had taught you strength, but he was a trained soldier, he knew how to hold back someone who could be stronger than him. You were left weak and at his will.

The stormtrooper threw you onto a shuttle, a few others were on it with you, fellow villagers. All of them covered in soot and ash, fear blowing their eyes wide open, as you knew your own were.

Silence rang in your ears as the ramp to the shuttle raised and lifted up off the ground. Your stomach sank as the shuttle flew off, away from the fire, away from the remains of your home, away from your family.

You just knew you’d never be back again.

* * *

Keef Girgo, or rather, Cassian Andor, watched the proceedings of the prison in silence. A dull emotion had settled over him, and he wasn’t sure what it was. Hopelessness perhaps. Or, perhaps it was his resolve to find a way out no matter what, which was something he wasn’t entirely convinced wouldn’t just end with him dead. But he was willing to try.

So he observed the proceedings around him during his work shift, and even as he stood waiting in the walkways with the others in his group for the changeover of shifts, he observed. That’s how he saw one of his fellow prisoners making gestures out the window, and looking, he could see one of the other walkways, and a prisoner over there making hand signals back to the man on his side of the glass.

“What are they talking about?” Cassian asked quietly.

“Plans of escape usually, though I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Nobody escapes from here.” You whispered softly in reply. Cassian turned around to see you standing behind him, he froze for a few moments as he took in your features.

“On program!” Kino shouted, walking past the two of you and Cassian snapped back around, falling into position like the others. He knew he shouldn’t push boundaries, at least not on the first day.

“They are organising an escape?” He asked you quietly, keeping his eyes glued before him.

“They attempt to. It’s also just a way to talk between floors.” You replied quietly. “But like I said, nobody escapes, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“What other choice is there if not to try to escape?” Cassian asked. He could tell from the tone in your voice that your spirit was crushed. But he believed that escape was possible, and he was going to die trying if it came to it. He owed it to Maarva to try and get word back to her.

“Keep quiet!” Kino shouted from the front so loud Cassian almost missed your reply.

“Finish your sentence, or die in here.”

* * *

Days blended together for Cassian. He worked, trying to help prevent his team from coming in last everyday, and tried to work out escape plans with his fellow inmates who were already working on plans. At nights, before the floor would activate he would gather with the others and work out plans in hushed tones. Even though none of the prison guards would be listening in, they all agreed they didn’t need Kino yelling at them all for making up foolish plans, as he had a few times before.

Cassian was distracted from the conversation when he saw you walking past. He didn’t know why, but something about you just drew him to you.

Maybe it was the fact, that even though everyone here had a sense of hopelessness to them, especially so with the increased sentence times, you seemed to be so much more devoid of life than any of the others.

Leaving the conversation, Cassian stood outside the opening to your sleeping quarters, the one next door to his. You looked at him, quirking your brow in question.

“Why don’t you want to escape?” Cassian asked you. He’d asked the question of a few others, and mostly he’d gotten to learn that if they could, they’d want out.

“There is no escaping from here.” You replied flatly.

“And what if you could. Wouldn’t you want to?” He pressed. He didn’t know why he was so persistent with you. But he wanted to know you, wanted to know everyone around him really, but especially you.

“Do you have someone at home to go back to?” You asked him instead of answering.

“I do. I have my mother.” He replied. He looked into your gaze, and for the first time since he’d been there, he saw more than just blank despair. He saw pain, raw and true flicker across your features. As you opened your mouth to say something to him, a voice rang out above them all, warning prisoners to return to their cells before the floor became active.

You turned your back on him and he watched you for a few more moments before quickly moving over into his cell just before the lights went dark and the floor went live.

* * *

The shuttle landed down on some planet. You didn’t know where you were. You had never before left your home, never even left your village, and now, here you were, being ushered off a shuttle by stormtroopers, scared and practically alone. The other villagers were with you, but like yourself, they were all silent, fear and anguish gripping their tongues tightly.

The stormtroopers lead you all into a large building and had you all wait in a line before who you quickly came to realise was a judge. The stamping of the sentence tickets rang out in your head, like a guillotine dropping over the necks of everyone she sentenced.

Finally it was your turn on the chopping block as you stepped up before the judge. You repeated your name out to the judge before she read out your sentence, your stomach dropping out from your gut.

“Guilty of rebellion against the empire. Six years.” She stated, and down came the sentence stamp. The clang of the metal being engraved ringing in your ears as your whole body and mind went numb.

You awoke with a gasp in a pool of your own sweat. You could feel it across your back and dripping down your forehead. Standing up you stumbled forward to the edge of your cell, trying to get some cooler feeling air as you tried to shake the memory from your mind.

Your whole body shook as silent tears began to fall and you slid down the wall until you were sitting right on the edge of the floor. You let out a choked sob and you faintly heard the sounds of someone moving on the other side of the wall.

“Are you alright?” You heard someone whisper quietly and it took you a moment to realise it was Keef. You took a long, shaky breath before answering.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” You replied quietly, lying to both yourself and him.

“But, you are crying.” He replied, sympathy in his voice. You were both silent for a few moments after that. You turned your head to gaze blankly at the red lights on the floor as tears still flowed freely down your face.

“Have you ever lost anyone?” You asked, so quietly you weren’t sure he’d even hear you.

“Yes. I lost my father. And I’ve seen the deaths of others around me.” He answered honestly. “What about you?”

“I lost my whole family. I don’t know for sure if they died, but deep down. I know they’re gone.” You replied, voice cracking as fresh tears rolled down your face in heavy waves. “They’re all gone.” You sobbed. “My parents, my brother, everyone. They’re all dead. They’re all gone. I’ll never see them again and it’s all because of this blasted empire.”

You put your head in your hands and cried. You cried until you didn’t think any liquid was left in your body. Keef had been silent so long you’d almost even forgotten about him when he finally spoke up again.

“The empire is the reason my father died. The reason why I was not able to stay with my mother. They’re why I’m here now. I understand loss, but yours is a greater loss than I could know. I am sorry for that.” He said quietly. You knew he meant well, trying to comfort you, but the words fell hollow and heavy on your heart, so wrung through with pain that it surprised you when you felt a small flicker of warmth and appreciation for the man.

“Thank you Keef.” You whispered softly, wiping away the remainder of your tears.

“Cassian.”

“What?”

“My name. It’s not Keef. It’s Cassian. Cassian Andor.”

“Well thank you Cassian. And, your secret is safe with me.”

* * *

Something was deeply wrong. Everyone could feel it. Taga was frantically trying to communicate with the other floors as panic levels rose within everyone.

Panic gripped your heart like an icy vice, sinking its talons in deep and making your blood feel cold as it coursed through your veins.

“What’s going on?” Cassian asked from Taga’s side, looking out at the other floors despite not being able to translate the hand gestures himself.

“Something’s happening on 2.” Taga replied, panic lacing his tone as he continued trying to communicate with the others.

“Everyone calm down.” Kino ordered, though even he had a note of panic in his tone. That was something that worried you deeply. The floor manager never once showed panic or fear, but now. Now you knew things were really wrong if even Kino was impacted.

“What is going on?” Someone yelled.

“I don’t know. Something’s happening on 2 but nobody can say what.” Taga replied, more panic in his tone than before. You could practically feel the fear in the air now. Everyone was on edge and nobody knew what to do.

Suddenly the voice of your captors came over the speakers, calling for all prisoners to get on program or face consequences. Everyone was in too much of a panicked state to process the order at first.

“Get on program, now.” Kino ordered, pulling people away from the windows. Soon they were all complying, standing still with your hands on your heads.

“What happened?” Cassian hissed.

“Be quiet.” Kino snapped, not turning around to look at him.

“They’re all dead. They killed the whole floor.” Taga replied quietly. Shock fell through the group and you felt like you could breathe anymore. Each breath was an effort for you as you followed the others in the lineup towards your sleeping area.

Panic held you tightly in its clutches as your mind ran wild. The only reason you could think of for them killing a whole prison floor was that they found out that they, like those on your floor, wanted to find a way to escape.

Numbly, you barely even registered you were back standing before your cell, taking a few moments to realise where you were. Cassian started to walk past you and you snapped. You were beginning to care for the man, having had other late night talks with him when neither of you could find any comfort in sleep. And now, with these new events, you didn’t want the man to wind up dead, much less bringing all the others to the grave with him.

“You realise why they killed them!” You snapped, moving to stand before Cassian. He looked at you, slightly bewildered at your sudden change in mood and tone. He’d never heard you speak in more than a hushed tone, and definitely not with so much venom in your voice.

“Why?” He asked quietly.

“Because they must have found out they were looking for a way to escape. Why else would they kill an entire floor? You need to stop this, you’re going to get yourself and everyone else around you here killed.”

“We don’t know that that’s why they killed them all. And I’d rather die trying to get free then let them break me in here trying to work for a freedom that may never come.”

The blood was roaring so loudly in your ears that you didn’t hear the warnings for the floor. You didn’t hear Kino yelling for you to get into your cell, now.

The next thing you knew, your arm was being grabbed and you were pulled up against someone’s chest, just as the lights in the room went dark and floor went live.

Your breath came out in ragged gasps, the rage and anguish that gripped you before dissipating as you stared at the spot on the floor where you’d been moments before, the same spot of floor that now ran with an electrical current, set to kill anyone who dared touch it.

Slowly you turned your head to look up at Cassian. He still held a loose grip of your arm, hand just above the elbow. Your chests were nearly touching, but closest of all was his face, his mouth close enough to you that you could feel his breath fanning across you. Your heart thrummed in your chest, and you were certain that he could hear it. For the first time in a long time, you truly felt alive.

However, the moment was over before it could even truly begin as Cassian slowly let his hand fall back to his side and took a step back in the already small space. The pounding of your heart slowed back down and the feelings subsided, leaving you back to your bleak world, as though the colour had been leached back out of your life right after being able to see it again for the first time in a very long time.

“You can take the bed for the night since you’re stuck here.” He offered quietly, and you nodded mutely in response. All the emotions from before and the near death experience as well as the odd swell of emotions from being faced so close to Cassian left you feeling numb.

You lay down on the bed and find sleep a hard thing to come by. The events of the day left your soul feeling raw, and your heart feeling numb. Eventually your eyes became too heavy to hold open and you drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

The dreams were different this time. Rather than reliving the events as they happened, you could move around, and you weren’t sure if that was worse.

You watched as the stranger approached your village, injured and weakened. Your mother, always a kind woman with an open heart for anyone, helped the man into your home. You learned little about him, but it was clear he was hiding from something and despite protests on your part, your mother insisted on keeping the stranger and helping him.

Then they came.

You screamed and tried to stop them as they marched towards your home. They carried on walking, despite all your efforts and you watched helpless as they banged on your door. It was odd, seeing yourself opening the door, watching as your eyes widened in fear and called for your mother just as you had that day.

You disappeared from the doorframe and your mother appeared instead.

“What can I help you with?” She asked politely, calm even then.

“You are harbouring a fugitive of the empire. Return him and the punishment will not be as severe as it can be.” The leading stormtrooper replied.

“I’m sorry. We have nobody here like that.” Your mother replied, lying to the stormtroopers. You closed your eyes, tears falling because you knew what came next.

The stormtroopers searched your home from top to bottom, but found nothing because your mother had moved the stranger next door when reports came to her of the approaching stormtroopers.

The same stormtroopers who returned later that day and began to burn everything down.

You were helpless to do anything but watch as your brother stormed towards the Stormtroopers, begging them to stop and blocking them from getting to a home. The home of his Fiance that he’d so proudly asked to marry him just that morning and you’d all been so happy about. That happiness felt a lifetime away now.

A scream was ripped from your throat as the lead stormtrooper casually pulled out a blaster and shot your brother down. A single shot to the head and the stormtroopers stepped over the still warm body of your brother, smoke curling up from the wound, and began to set fire to the house. The screams from inside the home echoed in your mind as you stared down at the face of your brother, a look of fear and anguish permanently frozen on his features.

Once more you woke, drenched deeply in sweat. You were shaking and tears were rolling freely down your face. You exited the bed, stepping carefully over Cassian who was asleep on the floor and walked to the edge of the cell.

You leaned forward, staring down at the floor. Every nerve and fibre in your being told you to do it. All it would take was just one step. Then you could finally be free from everything. You lifted one foot and started to move forward.

A tight grip on your arm came suddenly and pulled you back into the cell and flush up against Cassian’s chest once more. His breath came in ragged gasps of panic across your face and you could see the fear in his brown eyes.

You broke down sobbing, burying your head against his chest as his arms moved to encircle you. He gently rubbed your back as you cried. He knew to just let you get it out of your system and wait for you to be ready to talk.

“I’m such a hypocrite.” You sobbed against his chest after a while, the tears had resided some, though you were still crying. “I was so mad about a whole floor being killed, but then I-” you broke off into sobs again.

“You are not a hypocrite. Hearing about the deaths of others is always a hard thing. And I don’t know what drove you to this, but I know you must have had your reasons.” Cassian replied quietly. He slipped a hand under your chin and tilted your head back to look at him “But please, promise me you won’t try this again. I care about you, and if that means nothing, then just hold onto the fact that if you can get one person to care, you could get someone who you care about to care too.”

It took you a while to process his words, gazing up into his soft brown eyes, you could see the care he’d come to hold for you in the time he’d been here shining in his gaze. You leaned in closer, heart pounding in your chest in a different way that it had been before. Cassian closed the final distance between the two of you.

His lips were soft and warm against yours as your eyes fluttered shut, leaning into the kiss. You moved your hands up to hold the back of his head while his hands moved to cusp the sides of your face. Everything about the moment was pleasantly warm, and that warmth filled your heart, chasing away the lingering curls of the sadness from before.

Eventually the two of you parted, though still remained close in each other's arms. You opened your eyes to look up at him, and saw a small smile curling his lips. A smile came to your own lips.

“Please, promise me you’ll stay for me.” He whispered softly. “Don’t leave me.”

“I promise.”

* * *

Your heart was racing in your chest as you followed Cassian and Kino through the halls. Adrenaline fueled you and the three of you ran towards the command centre. So far, Cassian’s escape plan was actually working.

Ulaf’s death had spurred things into action and now, now that freedom was so close you could nearly taste it, you actually felt hopeful.

Cassian kept you close to him as you went. He carried a blaster and took out any guards you came across for you. He knew you couldn’t handle killing anyone and he wasn’t going to force you to make that choice.

When you reached the command room you stuck close behind Cassian, listening as Kino made his speech. Everything Kino said set your blood ablaze, giving you a newer will to get free.

When the three of you left the room, you were all chanting, so was everyone else in the building.

“One way out!”

“ONE WAY OUT!”

The flow of people pushing past you was strong. You got separated from Kino and Cassian as people pushed past you, and pushed you closer to the edge of the prison. You didn’t even get your own chance to jump as the waves of people pushed you over the edge.

Hitting the water was a shock on your system, and your head slipped under the water for a few moments. The sudden cold stunned you for a few moments before instinct kicked in and you swam your way up to the surface, gasping for air as you got your head above water. People were all around you, swimming as fast as they could to get away from the building. Your heart tightened in your chest as you looked around in a panic.

“Cassian!” You screamed, trying to find him. You didn’t know if he’d hear you over the sounds of the waves and the people swimming through them but you had to try. “Cassian!” You screamed again, turning around to look the other way.

You were about to give up when you finally saw him, and he was clearly looking around for you too. He looked over and spotted you and he quickly went over to you, Melshi with him as well. Together again, the three of you began to swim, just like all the others.

Away from the prison. Away from the pain. Away from the empire.

* * *

Niamos was a quiet planet, especially now as the sun was setting before you. You stood next to Melshi, watching your first sunset in years. Your new stolen clothes feel so much more comfortable against your skin than the prison uniform ever had. Glancing back towards Cassian, you watched him talking on the phone for a moment, trying to contact his mother to let her know he was okay.

“We might be the only ones who made it.” Melshi said quietly next to you, drawing your attention towards him.

“I still can’t believe we made it.” You replied softly, and he gave a small smile.

“One way out. And we found it.” He replied, before looking to Cassian as he came over to join the two of you. “Everything okay?”

Cassian nodded “Yeah, it’s fine.” You could tell that he was lying, but you weren’t going to press him, not right now.

“We need to let people know about what happened.” Melshi said and Cassian nodded in agreement. “I think we should split up, get the word out. If they were moving prisoners around on Narkina 5 they’re probably doing it in other prisons too.”

“I agree. People need to know what happened.” Cassian said, and he pulled Melshi into a hug. The two embraced before parting. Melshi gave you a hug as well before Cassian gave him a blaster and the two of you watched as Melshi took off on his own.

“My mother died.” Cassian told you, long after you’d stopped seeing Melshi in the distance.

“Oh Cas, I’m so sorry.” You replied, turning to look at him.

“I’m going back to see her funeral.”

“Then I’m coming with you.”

“No, the empire is there. I can handle myself but please, don’t come. If they get me, I can find my way out again. I don’t want to put you through that again though. Promise me you will wait for me.” He says quietly.

“I promise.” You whisper, and he pulls you close in his arms, pressing his lips to yours. Heat fills you once more, and this time, there are no others who could see the two of you around.

Cassian gives you a night of love and passion. And even though your mind is distracted by everything about him, deep down you knew.

You knew in your heart that when you woke in the morning he would already be gone. In his place was a note with just three words.

‘Wait for me’

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the-linaerys · 2 years

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Andor

I wrote about Andor on DW. You can comment there or here.

I loved the original trilogy for its lived-in feeling and vastness, and the story of the little guy against the big guy. Andor takes the starting point of the original trilogy, and gives it weight and depth and takes the questions of rebellion and insurrection seriously in a way that as Abigail Nussbaum says, actually makes Andor the most Star Wars of all the Star Wars properties. It's about organizing and activism, it's a cri de coeur about the power of communities over individuals. It's sharply observed not only about the tenuous alliances between revolutionary groups, but the inevitable weaknesses of authoritarians. It's some of the best writing I've ever experienced in any medium. It tells a story of systems and movements that are bigger than people while showing human agency and allowing people to shine. * Andor is really a writing master class. I love how we're invited to laugh gently at Nemik's zealotry, and his manifesto. Even if we sympathize with it, we know he's going to be disillusioned or killed. And he is. But then when his manifesto is used again in the final episode, it's earned, because we met him early, and we saw Cassian Andor's progression to radicalization, and we, along with him, can hear and feel the truths of Nemik's manifesto in a way we were not capable of before. * The whole prison arc has been rightly hailed, and especially Andy Serkis's work as Kino Loy. Someone else pointed out that we are seeing organizing in those scenes. Good activists identify leaders and use them, and that's what Cassian does with Kino. At the end of that arc, when Cassian gets Kino to talk to the whole prison, and Kino uses his words, it shows that the notion of a singular hero is not what is needed here. This is not Cassian Andor's story, this is the story of the rebellion, of a fight with infinite fronts that can always be pushed upon, and need to be pushed upon by a collective. * Other people have also pointed out that whoever destroyed Kenari was before the rise of the empire, and we're forced to see the Republic as also a perpetrator of colonialization, economic and environmental destruction, and genocide. This is underlined by Mon Mothma and the explicit notion that her liberal trouble-making is ineffectual, it's only useful as a front for more radical fighting. And it's making me want to write fic! Which is weird for such a good show. Often well-written shows don't leave room for anything to be filled in, but Andor leaves a lot of space, while never feeling incomplete. I think perhaps this is because it is in the Star Wars universe, a universe we know is vast. But also, I just absolutely love Stellan Skarsgård as Luthen Rael, and I'm fascinated by the character and by and his relationship with Cassian. I need to read and write a million words about them, slashy and otherwise. I have always loved Stellan Skarsgård's work and always will. In this house we sexualize old dudes especially when they're Stellan Skarsgård, and it is fantastic to see him in a role like this. He's incredibly charismatic, uncompromising, and also portraying Luthen as deeply human. We can see that he hates some of the things he's had to do long before that incredible speech to Lonni, a speech that would have been well written no matter what, but pehaps that could only have been delivered by Skarsgård. I loved how little he has to do in Ferrix besides watch, perhaps, a glimmer of the sunrise he will not live to see. I love how we don't know if he's a hero or a villain, or if those terms can even apply to him—this is a show with many heroes but no one hero, and no one untarnished. I am not sure that what Luthen has done up to this point was necessary and that's part of the point—we'll never know, he'll never know, who had to die, and whose lives he wasted. He has set himself up as the mastermind of many revolutionary cells—will there come a time when he confuses power and self-preservation with the good of the rebellion? Has that time already come? He stands in excellent contrast to Saw Guerrera, and perhaps the best argument that he is necessary is when Saw says, "I am the only one with clarity of purpose." Because you can't have a rebel alliance where only one person is allowed to have clarity of purpose. The entire Andor show is about refuting that idea. Skeen says it best when he says "everyone has their own rebellion," while also proving that his rebellion has outlived its usefulness to The Rebellion. And I haven't even touched on his relationship with Cassian yet, which is different from his relationship with all of his other pawns and allies. But I gotta wrap this up for now. Please point me to your Andor meta, fic, and other people interested in this show! I think I have a new fandom!

#luthen rael #cassian andor #cassian x luthen #andor #andor meta #andor season 1 #andor spoilers #saw guerrera #kino loy #stellan skarsgard #in this house we sexualize old men

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ireallyamabear · 1 year

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here it is, the Cassian/Nemik what if, the Nemik at Narkina 5, from my brain to yours!

(9966 words) Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Andor (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Cassian Andor/Karis Nemik Characters: Cassian Andor, Karis Nemik, Kino Loy Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, What if Scenario, Cassian never joined Luthen, Alternative Meeting, Karis Nemik Lives, for now, Narkina 5, Prison, inmates to lovers, Developing Relationship, love in the time of political imprisonment, Nemik's leftist theory, Political Speeches, Rebel activity, Masturbation, Voyeurism, very slightly, Canon Typical Violence, Original Character(s), Original Character Death(s), Serious Injuries, Blood Summary: Months after leaving the man on the Fondor behind, Cassian found himself in a nightmarish facility, in the cell right across from a curly haired kid who preached rebellion and blushed when he noticed he was being watched.

#andor fic #cassian andor #karis nemik #cassian/nemik #cassian andor x karis nemik #kino loy #narkina 5 #andor au #andor #my fics #mp

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sagegarnish · 2 years

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I hope the person who wrote the ONLY Kino/Andor fic on AO3 is having a fabulous day 🥹

Link: ( x )

#kindor #kino loy x cassian andor #andor #andor spoilers #sagegarnish posts #star wars fic recs

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silver-pieces · 1 year

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prisoners

Pairing: Cassian Andor x fem!reader

Word Count: Almost 8.7k

Synopsis: You never expected to find your soulmate here.

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, smut (unprotected p in v sex, slight breeding kink), physical pain & trauma, depression, nightmares, prison, prison labour, open sea & dark water

A/N: For the prompt ‘Nightmare/Soulmark’ in Andor Bingo, created by @sw-andor This fic features major spoilers for Andor S1. Keef = Cassian. Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics.

“What’s she doin’ ‘ere?”

“I think that’s obvious.”

“Yeah but, she’s a woman.”

“What do they care? Man, woman, we’re all just slaves - ”

“Oi! Table five.” Kino barks from behind you. He stalks over, meeting everyone’s eyes with a glare. “Is there a problem?”

“Yeh’ve given us a woman,” the redhead says. “No offence, love, but why are you here? Shouldn’t you be with the other birds?”

“Shut it,” Kino growls. “It doesn’t matter why she’s here. She is. Now stop wasting my time and get back to work. Unless you want to get fried.”

Your feet shift nervously at the memory. Hot, electric pain. Everyone else stiffens too, a shared sense of dread filling the sterile air.

He takes you by the shoulders and pushes you towards one of the men. “Keef.”

A man with dark hair and even darker eyes looks up at the sound of his name, his gaze falling on you as he pauses mid-crank.

Your lips part, and your gaze lingers on the sight of his sleeves rolled up, his arms tensing with each push so hard, that, in any other circumstance, you might find it appealing.

“Show her the ropes.” Kino lowers his voice to a menacing growl. “And make sure she understands what’s at stake.”

The man gives him a subtle nod.

“You’re down four now, boys,” Kino says, his gaze shifting to you, “... and girl. No more distractions. Let’s get this done!”

They get back to work - a synchronised effort that you struggle to follow, only adding to the chaos happening around you. There are lasers and cranks and drills and pieces of machinery that they have to manually fit together. And the sounds are overwhelming - hardened voices overlapping with the whirring and clanking of the machines.

“I’m Jemboc,” the older one next to Keef says. “This is Ham, Xaul, Melshi, and Taga.” He goes around the table, pointing at each one.

You say your name in return, but it comes out feeble, your throat still not working properly. Xaul, the redhead, pins you with a look. Melshi mutters something to himself, shaking his head.

“Here,” Keef grunts to get your attention, beckoning you to his side. There's a lilt to his voice that pleases your ears. “Watch what I do closely. You have to pull your weight around here, or we all get fried, you understand?”

You manage to nod.

He removes the crank from the machinery and sets it aside, his hands moving deftly from one task to the next. You’re drawn to his hands, the display of skill and strength sending heat down your spine. His brows are lowered, his gaze focused.

Each part requires something different - to pull, crank, lift, reach, press, load. It's heavy labour, but he proves himself more than capable.

"It's easy once you get into the swing of things," Jemboc's voice taking you out of your trance as he steps beside you.

"Right.” You’re not sure you want to get into the swing of things.

The older man frowns at you, but there's a kindness in his eyes.

"Are you getting it?" Keef growls to you as he lifts his hands and backs away from the table.

You nod.

He draws near and ducks his head down, a patient look in his eyes. "Any questions, you can just ask me."

Your heart flutters. Heat rises to your face, though you're not sure why. "Thanks."

With a nod, he turns back to the table and starts loading alongside the others, letting you stand by his side and watch.

No more words are exchanged apart from the occasional barked order from the others - push!, lift!, and hands away!

They get more frantic as time passes. Kino calls something out and your table groans in response.

You realise that they're falling behind.

Get back to work. Unless you want to get fried. Shit. There is no way you're taking that punishment again if you can help it.

Stomach in knots, you step up beside Keef. "I've seen enough, let me help."

He eyes you, a muscle feathering in his jaw, before handing you the crank. As your hand closes around it, he mutters, "Be careful."

A shiver runs down your spine. His voice is low and smooth and it does something to your body that momentarily distracts you from this hell.

Hesitantly, you take the crank from his grip and fasten it to the piece of machinery.

"Table five, your productivity levels are unacceptable. Proceed to the centre of the room and remain on program."

The soles of your feet tingle with each step on the floor. Your head is spinning, heart pounding, mouth drier than a desert.

The others at your table stand with you in the centre of the floor. For a second, you allow yourself a glance over at Keef.

He’s staring straight forward, a dead look in his eyes, but the tiniest shuddering expanse of his chest betrays his fear.

You close your eyes and wait.

No no no no no no no no no -

It slices through your body and your muscles seize with pain. A cry escapes your lips. Your knee hits the floor painfully hard as your legs give way, and the cries of the others violates your ears, inescapable.

It's over in seconds, but it feels like hours.

Your lungs draw ragged breaths. Tears leak from your eyes, and you wipe them away before anyone sees.

Stand. The others are already getting up - you need to follow, quickly, before they decide to punish you again. But your legs are too weak.

A familiar outstretched hand enters your vision.

Your gaze trails up the veins in his forearm, to the sleeves bunched up over his biceps. "Come on," Keef urges softly. "You have to get up."

With all your willpower, you reach up and grab him by the forearm, his hand closing around the inner side of your forearm, bracing you there to help you up.

"Ah!" you hiss, pulling away as a sudden burning sensation flares where his hand touches you.

“Shit!” He grits out, exchanging a confused look with you, and then looks down at his own arm, where you touched him.

Your breath halts as you see it - the symbol burned into your skin, on the inner side of your upper forearm. It’s a simple slashing of lines, but the meaning it carries is far more significant - a soulmark.

He’s staring at the same symbol on his own skin in stunned silence.

“Keef,” you breathe.

Then the deep warped voice of the prison interrupts.

“Prisoners on program. Proceed to your quarters.”

He takes one frantic look at you, and then turns his head forward, following the prison directive and raising his hands behind his head on program. The sleeve, you noticed, he pulls down to hide the mark.

You quickly do the same, assuming the position, even though every fibre of your being is flooded with shock.

As you file through the doors with the others, you can barely hear anything over the pounding of your own ears. Your mind struggles to make sense of what just happened, let alone process everything else that’s happened to you in the last twenty-four hours.

Keef falls in line behind you.

Instantly, you feel his eyes on you, the heat prickling at the back of your neck.

The line of prisoners shuffles along through a long corridor, passing the night shift, stopping and starting up again until you're at your quarters.

"Jemboc, give her the orientation," Kino directs the older man, before leaving you behind to deal with another group of men.

Jemboc turns to you. "Come on, I'll show you your cell."

As he takes you down through the hallway, you see Keef emerge out of the corner of your eye, and when he reaches his own cell, so do you. Directly opposite from each other.

Your eyes meet.

Stars. Finding a soulmate is rare, practically unheard of for most. But he’s here, and the mark is burned into your flesh, still throbbing with fresh pain as you run your fingers over it.

Jemboc starts explaining what the lights on the floor mean, but you can’t seem to take your eyes off of Keef, raking your gaze over his tense form, brown hair mussed and grown out, dark eyes you could lose yourself in, even as you listen to Jemboc listing all the various rules.

“You understand?” Jemboc asks you.

Not really. “Yes,” you reply with a nod, dragging your eyes away.

“What are you in for, anyway?”

“Loitering.” You’ve grown numb to the anger.

“I see.” Jemboc pats you on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay, sister. We all will be, soon.”

“Hey!” The bark of another prisoner cuts him off.

It’s Xaul, pushing past the others, stalking towards you with a deadly glare.

You take a step back on instinct, and Jemboc folds his arms defensively, but it’s Keef who gets in his way.

With a growl, he pushes off the wall, getting in Xaul’s face before he can reach you. “What’s your problem, huh?” he growls. “You’re scaring her.”

Xaul growls, jabs his finger in your direction, and shifts his glare to Jemboc. “Not her.”

They exchange unreadable glances.

Jemboc scowls and takes him by the shoulder, leading him out of earshot from you. The two of them begin talking in low, urgent tones, Xaul shooting you another glare.

Your hands curl into fists at your side.

Hesitantly, Keef turns to you, his head ducked low in sincerity. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice coming out softer than you’ve heard before.

“No,” you say, even as warmth fills you at the concern in his devastatingly brown eyes. Stars, but the sight of him pleases you. “I think we need to talk.”

“Agreed,” he nods, holding his forearm with his other hand, his eyes briefly glancing down, “but we don’t have the time or the privacy in here.”

You draw nearer. “How long is left on your sentence?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “That doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I don’t understand.”

His eyes dart to Xaul and Jemboc. “I wish I could tell you. I - ” he cuts himself off as the floor lights start flashing.

In seconds, the hall clears as the rest of the inmates scramble to get into their cells. Keef pushes you towards yours. “Go.”

With his push, you step up into your cell before the lights can turn red. What was it Jemboc said? Seven seconds when the lights start flashing, then they turn red. And if you’re caught in the red light, you die.

On instinct, you turn back around to see Keef again.

Your soulmate.

He stands in his cell across from you, an unreadable expression on his face, his mouth in a grim line, as the lights begin to dim.

The floor lights turn red a second later.

There is no way to get to him now, and no way of talking across the hall without everyone in the surrounding cells hearing you. That’s not an option.

He lingers at the edge of his cell, and so do you, for a time, struggling with this new feeling inside you - this urge, compelling you towards him. Even if you don’t know him yet, you want to.

So you’re paralysed in silence; staring at each other across several feet of deadly flooring.

The murmurs of the other inmates eventually peter out, and as the snoring starts to rise, you feel your eyes growing heavy.

You curse beneath your breath.

Keef must hear it, because he raises his chin and nods in understanding, retreating from the edge of his cell and into darkness.

Grimly, you turn away from him, towards your bunk.

They're everywhere. They're watching you. They know what you've done. You're going to be punished -

You wake up in a cold sweat, gasping for air.

"Hey, hey, breathe." Keef's hushed voice carries across the cell.

Your eyes dart around until you see him, a broad mass in the shadows, sitting on the edge of his bunk across the way.

The soft sound of the other men snoring in their cells settles over the silence.

"It was just a nightmare," he whispers across the corridor. "I'm right here."

You blink back tears, and push yourself up by your elbows. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You run your hand down over your face. There’s been a lot of that lately.

A few shifts in, you found yourself staring at the ceiling of your cell counting the seconds going by, running your fingers over the soulmark on your arm, unable to stop thinking about him.

You’ve memorised his form and features with almost no effort - the cut of his jawline, occasionally peppered with stubble if he hasn’t shaved, being your latest obsession.

And you can feel when he looks at you, too. Devouring glances out of the corner of your eye that set your cheeks aflame.

It’s like your body is on high alert at all times. Working alongside him throughout the day, barely able to exchange a few words without anyone overhearing, passing by each other, brushing past each other so close your skin hair raises, but not touching, never touching, just savouring the few small moments in his presence and then trying to go to sleep every night knowing he is a only few feet away from you.

But it’s worse, somehow, when you do manage to turn your brain off. That’s when the nightmares come.

It’s relentless and repetitive; nothing but the Empire and memories of pain, torturing you through your sleep.

Keef’s been developing shadows beneath his eyes as well. You wish you could talk to him about it, but he doesn’t seem to want anyone else to know about your soulmarks, and shit, neither do you. It's hard enough to even admit to yourself, let alone have the others staring at you, judging you more than they already do for being the only woman here.

And if the prison ever found out, they could take you away from each other. Your gut clenches at the thought.

Fuck. Trying to drag your emotions out of the gutter before you break is becoming harder everyday. The weight on your shoulders is crushing you, and you can’t see any light at the end of this tunnel.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” you confess, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He stands, coming to the edge of his cell in the low, red lighting. “Don’t say that,” he whispers. “Don’t let them break you.”

You fiddle with your mattress. Don’t let them break you? They already are, and it isn’t your choice.

“Listen to me,” he says, raising his voice to a low growl.

You look up at him, drawing in a shaky breath.

“You had a nightmare, but you woke up from it.” The urgency in his baritone voice calls to you, and you stand, approaching the edge of your cell as he continues. “That’s all this place is. It’s a nightmare. You don’t realise it while you’re inside, but you’re in control. All you have to do is wake up.”

“What are you saying?”

He meets your gaze, an intense, unreadable look in his eyes. “I'm saying, hold on. Just a little while longer. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you breathe, before you realise what you’re saying. You blink and look away from him, frowning. “I can.”

His words paint a picture in your mind, one of you, years from now, out of here. On some beach planet or forest town, enjoying the sun on your face. This place, a distant memory in the back of your mind.

Just a nightmare.

A slight smile finds its way onto your face at the thought. You meet Keef’s gaze again, the fierceness in his eyes amplified by the red of the floor, and nod in gratitude.

“I’ll try.”

His shoulders relax slightly, and he nods. “That’s all we can do.”

You sleep.

There’s a warmth in you when you wake, a buzz from the memory of last night. That was the longest conversation you’ve had yet, and even if you couldn’t talk openly, it still felt real.

When you first open your eyes, you’re drawn to his cell on instinct, drinking in the sight of him every chance you can get.

But it’s like he hasn’t moved all night. He’s leaning one shoulder against the wall at the edge of his cell, arms still folded, and he’s staring at you, his dark brows furrowed, the slight stubble peppering his clenched jaw telling you he hasn’t shaved since yesterday. Movement draws your gaze to his arm, where his knuckles shift back and forth, running over that small mark on his arm.

Heat slowly rises to your face.

The floor is still red. The others are awake too, the few you can see from your cell having breakfast or pacing around their small cell. The slight murmur of muted voices blending together.

“Did you sleep?” you ask him.

He gives the subtlest shake of his head.

Your heart sinks.

It’s not just being around him that you can’t bear, it’s also seeing him suffer and not being able to help. You have to keep holding back these strange, rising urges to comfort him. It doesn’t help that he has those big, soulful brown eyes that could melt you down into the cracks of the floor.

You’re not in love, but he matters to you more with each passing day, and that feeling is killing you.

Damn, you thought you’d grown numb to everything, but suddenly the despair is back with a vengeance, and you have to look away to blink back sudden tears.

“Hey,” he calls to you. “You okay?”

Shaking your head, you blow out a breath and chant in your head, don’t break, don’t let them get to you.

He curses, and then he’s pushing of the wall to pace his cell. His shoulders tense with each breath.

You draw near the edge of your cell, watching him try to walk out the tension in his body, your heart caught between desire and despair.

It’s a vicious cycle of suffering between the two of you.

Then the floor lights shift from red to white.

“On program!” Kino calls out.

Prisoners load out of their cells, slowly getting into their line with murmurs and sluggishness.

Keef is already on the floor when you tentatively step down, enduring that moment before your feet touch the metal with your heart in your throat every time. White lights means it’s safe, but -

He approaches you suddenly, closing his hand around the nape of your neck, tipping his forehead against yours. Warm electricity floods through your veins and over your skin at his touch.

“Keef,” you stutter out, shocked at his public display, even as you sink further into his touch. The sounds of shock and angry voices from the men around you start kicking off, but you ignore them.

“Please,” he breathes, his forehead pressed firmly against yours, his face inches away, “it’s killing me. I know you’re scared - I know. What can I do?”

You shake your head. “I - ”

“What the fuck are you two doing?”

Kino.

You pull him off you and step away.

He shudders at your touch, and you realise with a jolt that you took his arm right at the soulmark. For a brief moment, he cradles his arm, before Kino approaches and the two of you join the others in line.

“Hm?” The man raises his eyebrow at the both of you. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“It was nothing,” Keef responds. “Just making sure she’s okay.”

Kino glances at you, an unreadable look on his face. “Are you?”

“I’m fine,” you say, but even you can hear the shakiness in your own voice.

He blinks, searching your gaze. Then he grabs Keef by the arm and leans in to whisper something in his ear.

As Keef listens, he sets his eyes on you, before giving Kino a firm nod.

Apparently satisfied, the older man steps away and raises his voice to the rest of the men.

“Time to face another day. Everyone, move.”

As you begin walking forward, you turn your head to whisper back to him, “what was that?”

“Don’t worry,” Keef whispers. “He’s on our side.”

The tension is high at table five.

“I don’t think they should be next to each other today,” says Taga, eyes darting nervously between the two of you.

“Why?” Keef growls.

“Does he really have to say why?” Xaul interrupts. “You like her.”

“It could be a distraction,” Ham mutters.

“No.” Keef glares. “She stays by my side. Kino’s orders.”

“Oh, ‘Kino’s orders’? Fuck that. We don’t want to get fried 'cuz of you,” Xaul growls.

Keef turns his ire on Xaul. "And when was the last time that happened? If memory serves, not since she started here, under my guidance."

A mutter goes around the table.

"Table five, get moving," Kino warns as he passes by.

"Let's get this done," Keef growls, and that's the end of the discussion.

The next days feel different, and the same.

You try to hold on, like you promised him, but the nightmares and the sleepless nights are getting worse.

You touched each other for the second time ever, felt the warmth of his hands on you, breathed the same air, the memory of seeing the depths of darkness in his brown eyes up close is carved into your mind, and now the yearning inside of you has developed; a deep ache in your bones.

The others can sense something more is up between you. You feel their eyes follow you; but you can't bring yourself to care whether they notice the way he always rushes to your aid, or the soft exchanges of words, or the way the two of you never move too far apart. You can't fight this growing need to be around him. You're soulmates. Whatever that means.

"Doctor! We need the doctor!"

Your ears prick at the commotion at table two. Everyone keeps working, but out of the corner of your eye you watch as Kino goes over to investigate.

"Is it another panic attack?"

You push down on the drill.

"...he's not breathin'"

You lift it up and inspect the results.

"Shit. I’ll call the doctor."

Your table begins to lift the cog off the table to load it on the rack. You step away, watching them move. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the man keeled over on the floor.

A little bit of your soul cracks.

Keef returns to your side, and it’s brief, but his arm brushes against yours.

He doesn’t even need to say anything - you meet his brown-eyed gaze and all the hurt in your lungs evaporates.

“Unit Five-Two-D on program.”

He flicks his gaze up to the entrance, a gleam in his eyes.

You put your hands behind your head and turn to face them as the doctor is lowered onto the floor.

The man is dead.

There’s a strange anticipation in the air, like the way the air gets dry before a storm hits.

You watch them carry the man away in a bodybag. You catch Xaul and Jemboc exchanging a look. You catch the way Kino nods subtly to Keef as he walks past.

Everyone goes silently to their quarters - not even a whisper.

“Fall out!” Kino yells.

You turn to Keef. “What is going on?”

He pulls you aside, leaning in with his voice down low. “Do you trust me?”

“Why?”

“Tomorrow, whatever Kino says, I want you to follow immediately. No hesitation. You understand?”

“What - ”

“I can’t explain. I wish I could, but - ” His eyes catch on someone over your shoulder, and his mouth closes in a grim line.

You glance back and see Xaul, watching from a distance, arms folded, jaw tense. He’s never seemed to trust you, and you don’t blame him, but the way he watches you at all times is hard to get comfortable with.

“I don’t understand,” you turn back to your soulmate and search his eyes, “but... I trust you.”

An unreadable expression flashes in his eyes, and then everything is swept away as he takes you by the waist, cups your chin, and sweeps you into a gentle kiss.

For a nanosecond you freeze, before the rush of adrenaline fills your veins and you melt against his lips. The soulmark pulses on your arm, and the most amazing feeling overtakes you, of drifting high up in the clouds and watching the sun rise. You pull him closer, threading your fingers through his hair. The bristle of his five-o’clock shadow makes itself known with each movement, desire pooling in your core as you move your body against his. He feels so real, solid and alive, and it’s breathtaking.

The sounds of the world around you only vaguely registers in your head. Men, shouting at you.

Fuck them. Nothing else matters. You’re in the arms of your soulmate and you never want to leave again.

Then one voice, Kino’s, pierces through your haze. “Oi! The floor!”

Your eyes fly open as Keef breaks off the kiss and pushes you towards your cell with a growl.

You barely have time to react. Between the flashing lights, you lunge for the safe zone, leaping up into it seconds before the place is bathed in red.

“Fuck!”

You turn around.

He stands in his cell across from you, panting, his hair mussed from your attention. His eyes are wild, staring at you like he’s waiting for you to drop dead.

The instinct to reassure him overwhelms you. “I’m okay,” you say, stepping away from the edge. “I made it.”

He closes his eyes, running a palm over his mouth, and his shoulders rise and fall with a deep, shuddering breath.

You look down at your soulmark. That heightened feeling is fading, fast, each second you’re not back in his arms. A vision enters your head, of you, throwing yourself across the hall, even though you know that ends in death.

“You two lovebirds have a death wish?” Kino yells from his cell.

Shit.

“I told you they were distracting each other.”

“Gonna get us killed.”

Murmurs ripple down the hall. Heads, poking out of their cells.

Keef shakes his head, eyes swimming with anger. His voice is low, but you still hear it above the din. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken that risk.”

His words should fill you with regret, but a part of you, a small, stubborn part, thinks that maybe it was worth it anyway, just to touch him again, to feel his arms around you, the dominance of his kiss.

You close your eyes, a hand going to your mouth on instinct, fingertips trailing where he had his mouth on yours.

“Enough!”

Kino’s bark gets everyone’s attention instantly. The chatter dies down.

You open your eyes, and Keef is staring at you, a hungry look in his eyes. Heat rises to your face.

“Everyone knows what the plan is. Yes?”

Mumbles of men in agreement echo through the hall. You tilt your head, trying to discern any information you can, but pick up nothing. Nothing except that Keef looking towards Kino’s cell with fire in his eyes - tense, almost like hope, but darker.

Anger.

“Good. Now’s the time to rest. Tomorrow, we fight.”

A chill runs down your spine.

He’s shirtless in the morning.

Instantly pushing yourself up, your gaze locked on his chest, his stomach v, his arms, you catch his attention with the sudden movement.

He snaps his gaze to yours, pausing mid-stretch. His arm pulled across his chest, braced against his other arm to stretch his shoulder, the ropes of his biceps on full display for you.

“Hi,” you say.

Your swear his mouth curves just slightly, a twitch in his face, and he nods at you.

“Hi.”

All the blood in your body has left your brain. You continue to stare at him like an idiot while he does some basic stretches, before the lights flick to white, and Kino yells his daily on program! while Keef slides his shirt back on.

You fall in line in front of him.

He stands closer to you than normal, pressing his up front against you, his breath fanning against the back of your head as he leans in. His lilting voice sounds lowly in your ear, a lilting, baritone sound. “Remember what I said?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation. “F-Follow Kino,” you manage to stutter out.

He hums in approval. “Good girl.”

Your thighs clench together.

He’s getting more bold in front of the others, more playful, and you can’t help but feel excited and nervous by the shift. Why has he stopped hiding?

The line starts moving forward, and you follow the person in front of you to the showers as normal, trying to focus on anything but what he just said.

He thinks there’s a chance you could both escape, you think, and then immediately regret that line of thinking. But it’s too late. That future you imagined - the one that he planted in your mind with his words, shifts, and suddenly he’s there beside you in each vision, relaxing, laughing, grinning like an idiot.

Fuck.

The shift begins, the men exchanging knowing glances that have anticipation and dread growing in your belly. You know what this is by now, you’ve put the pieces together despite their weird reluctance in telling you.

This escape plan is really happening.

The new prisoner arrives shortly after your shift begins, and when Keef returns from the bathroom soaking wet, you barely have time to react before shit hits the fan.

Obeying Kino’s orders, you watch as together the other prisoners hijack the lift and short out the entire system - no more hot floor.

As he reaches the top, Keef turns back to pin you with a wild, furious look in his eyes that fills you with fire. He jerks his head for you to follow him.

So you do.

You climb. You run. You follow.

A guard catches you and tries to pull you away, but Keef is there in a flash of red and the smell of burning flesh, grabbing you by the hand and telling you to run as the man slumps to the ground.

The loading platform ends in a sheer drop to the sea. Your stomach drops as you pull back, glancing around as others begin to jump.

This is insane.

“I can’t swim!”

You barely hear Kino say it over the sound of the wind and the other prisoners, but then he says it again, and there is no doubt.

You step up beside him. “Me neither.”

Keef stares at you in shock.

And then he’s gone.

One of the men drags him off the edge by accident, and a shriek escapes you. “No!” but you can only watch as he disappears from sight.

A second goes by, then two. More men rush past.

There's nothing but the sound of blood pumping in your ears. No matter which way you think about it, if you follow, you're dead. There's no way you can swim that far, and if Keef tries to help you, he'll probably just die with you.

You fall to your knees.

Others race past you still, flinging themselves off the edge one by one. Kino stands by your side, watching them with an empty gaze.

“What do we do now?” you ask, and find yourself subconsciously cradling your arm, the soulmark on it beginning to throb painfully. Follow Kino, he said, but you’re not sure Kino has any moves left. There’s none you can see; no way to survive.

Maybe you should just jump anyway and let fate decide.

“Nothing.” Kino looks down at the gun in his hand. “We’re going out, one way or another.”

You nod and take in a deep breath of salty ocean air. “Agreed.”

He says nothing.

“Ah!” Your soulmark throbs again, and you grip your arm, hissing through your teeth. “Fuck off!”

“Sorry?” Kino growls.

"It’s uh,” you pull back your sleeve to him, “my soulmark.”

He blinks. “Damn. Keef?”

“Yeah.”

“That explains you two then.” He nods, casting his gaze out to sea. “I... I have a family.”

You peer up at him.

“I just wanted to see them again.” He looks down at the gun in his hands again.

“At least you know you tried,” you offer. “Sometimes...” Keef’s words ring true, pouring from your lips even as you hear the memory of his words spoken in your mind. “...that’s all we can do.”

The two of you linger in silence. Below you, the forms of men swimming away from the prison spread out, reaching towards the horizon. The soulmark on your arm is aching something fierce now, calling you to the edge. But it’s the realisation that Keef must be feeling this pain too, that hurts even more.

You hope he is trying anyway, down there, despite the pain.

He’s probably thinking the same thing about you.

Damn.

You stand. “Give me the gun.”

Kino hands it to you without even looking, his eyes remaining fixed on the horizon.

You turn around, facing the inside of the prison, and point the gun at one of the panels of the wall. The sound of the blast almost deafens you.

The panels sizzle where the blast hit, but as you approach, you can see them peeling away from each other at the seam. Without hesitation, you wedge the barrel of the gun in the hole, and with all your strength, try to peel the panel off the wall.

“What are you doing?” Kino growls.

You glance back at him with a half-cocked shrug.

“Finding something that floats.”

Wet.

Cassian’s fingers close around sand. His lungs are on fire, exacerbated by the stinging salt he inhales with each breath. Everything hurts.

A shadow relieves him from the sun. He looks up and for a moment, it’s you, the beautiful image of you reaching down for him tilting this world on its axis. Then he blinks, and Melshi comes into focus.

“We need to disappear,” he’s saying, scanning their surroundings.

Cassian tries to push himself up, but there’s a terrible ache emanating from his soulmark. It was easy to ignore in the sea - everything hurt. But now it spreads through his body, an urging like no other to wade back out into the dark waves - to go back for you.

He wants to punch the man who tackled him off the edge. Whoever it was. But as soon as he hit the water, swimming was the only way to survive.

“Did ya hear me? Keef?”

With a grunt, Cassian sits up and brushes off his hands, wincing when his arm throbs with the movement. “Did anyone else make it?”

Melshi squints. “If they did, they didn’t follow us.”

Yeah, that’s what he thought. Even if, by some miracle, you did make it, you could be miles apart, with no way of finding each other.

It would be enough to know that you survived, but he’s never been that lucky. No. He thinks of you, of your tentatively hopeful expressions that get him through the day, that beautifully trusting look in your eyes right before he kissed you, and has to tilt his head back to prevent his eyes from watering.

His soulmate. Dead.

He thought that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could save you.

“Keef.” Melshi stoops down beside him. “We have to move.”

“What do you know about soulmarks?” he murmurs.

Melshi sighs. “You’re dehydrated, mate. C’mon.” He goes to lift him up.

“No - no!” Cassian resists, pushing Melshi away and scrambling to his feet. He shoves back his sleeve and bares his soulmark. “I need to know! I need to...” He cuts himself off with a grimace as pain pulses through the mark.

Melshi stares at the mark, wide-eyed. “No shit. The girl?”

Cassian can only nod. “She doesn’t even know - my real name.” He chokes the words out past tears. “I thought I could save her. But she’s... she’s probably dead by now.” It feels like he’s separated from his body, like someone else is saying these things.

“Wouldn’t you know?”

Cassian stills. “What do you mean?”

Melshi hesitates.

“What do you mean?!” He grips at his hair, heart thudding in his chest so hard it might burst. “How would I know?!”

“I don’t know! It was just a story, back home - people said the marks are like homing beacons. So if she’s dead, your mark would... stop working.” He cringes, muttering, “it sounds stupid when I say it like that.”

Cassian looks down at it the throbbing, aching mark. He focuses on it, and - there - the throbbing pulls towards the sea.

He looks out at the waves. “She’s alive.”

His legs carry him forward, back into the sea. The sound of Melshi yelling behind him is a distant worry over the beating of his own heart, the very blood in his veins burning to get to you.

Then arms close around him, pulling him back. “You’re insane!”

He snarls and shoves Melshi back. “Get off me!”

“You’ll die!”

“I have to go back!”

Melshi lets him go. “Okay okay, just - just think about this! You’re no use to her dead.”

“You don’t get it. You don’t understand. If she’s alive - ”

“If she’s still alive, she’ll need more than just one man swimming out to rescue her!” His gaze darts down. “Is it getting better or worse?”

“What?”

He points to Cassian’s soulmark. “It’s painful, right? Is it getting worse?”

Cassian looks down at it. “It’s been about the same for a while now.” Fucking painful, but, “...maybe a little less than before. I don’t know!”

Melshi nods. “So she could be getting closer.”

“If that is how it works.” Instinct - the mark - tells him it does, but the panic in his chest won’t go away. He needs to see you. “So what do I do then? Wait around for her to find me? She can’t swim, so how - ”

“I don’t care!” Melshi interrupts. "But if you don’t return to shore with me, I will knock you unconscious and drag you back.” There’s a deadly serious look in the man’s eyes.

The ache within him isn’t going away. He’s not sure how much more he can take. But Melshi is right - it would be a death wish to swim back.

The prison is a blip on the horizon. Could you have really made it, somehow?

Melshi eyes him aggressively, waiting for him to make a move.

Cassian raises an eyebrow. “You really care about me that much?”

“You’ve been a bloody pain in my arse, but you were instrumental in our escape, so I figure I owe ya.”

With a nod, he looks back towards land, skimming his fingers over the waist-high water. “We wait here then.”

“They’ll be sending ships looking for us.”

“I won’t go any farther inland.”

Melshi shakes his head. “Fine.” With a splash, he begins wading toward the shore. “Then we’d better find some shelter for the night.”

It’s midnight. Probably, anyway. Cassian has no sense of time here, except that it's been dark for a while.

He sits with his face tilted up to the stars. The sea breeze is a cool rush of air, swaying the tree above and rustling his hair across his face.

He needs a haircut again.

The mark on his arm has steadied to a slow, aching pulse every few seconds, nothing more than the sensation of a mending bruise.

Melshi is right - he can feel it in his veins that you're getting close.

So he's waiting.

Sleep will not come to him tonight. Like you, it eludes him, and in its place, the unnatural sense that something is missing.

It's subtle, at first. A crashing of waves that don't fit the slow, steady beat he's been listening to all night.

Then, the sound of voices out there. A man's, deep and grating, and yours.

He'd recognise it anywhere.

He peers around the tree, out towards the sea, and sees a shape floating on the water.

“Melshi.” He hisses his companion’s name, getting up. “Melshi! It's them.”

“Huh,” Melshi starts, half awake.

“It’s them. I’m going to get her.”

He groans, shifting his arms up to cover his face. “They’re actually here? Wha’ are the chances? How?”

“I don’t know.” Breathless, Cassian turns toward the sea, towards the place his soulmark has been calling him towards all night. “But I’m going to find out. Come on.”

He runs to the water.

Sand sprays beneath his feet, then water splashes, and then he’s wading, then swimming, towards it. The shape blotting out the stars on the horizon morphs into two silhouettes sitting on some kind of raft. They’re slowly paddling their way towards the shore.

Cassian wants to weep with joy when he hears their voices - first Kino, then you.

“Is that - ”

“Keef? Keef!” you cry out, your voice hoarse.

His palm collides with the raft - a smooth white panel, and there you are, sitting on one side with a salt-streaked, wind-struck, beautiful face, staring down at him in wonder.

“Well shit,” Kino croaks, glancing at you. “You were right.”

Your hand rests over your soulmark as you stare down at Cassian.

Stars. There is so much he wants to say, but none of it seems like enough for this moment. He doesn’t want to take his eyes off you - he can’t.

But as the waves gently rise and fall, Kino clears his throat pointedly. “Much as I love being surrounded by water...”

“Right, right.” Cassian grabs hold of the panel. “I’ll take you to shore.”

The soft strokes of the sea abuts his efforts as he pulls the raft behind him, until the sea floor shallows out and he can put his feet beneath him.

“You should be good now. You can stand,” he says, instantly returning to your side of the raft. “Melshi’s with me, on the shore.”

Kino nods, sliding off the edge. “We should bury the panel.”

“Agreed.”

You hesitantly dip your legs in the water, and Cassian places his hands on your waist ready to help you down. “I’ve got you.”

In the darkness he can barely see your face, but he could swear there’s a heat reflected in your eyes.

It feels good, coming to you aid on instinct. Putting his hands on you.

As he holds you steady, you gently slip off the edge of the raft and collide against him with an oof as you land.

Despite his exhaustion, his shaft hardens. To go from be denied his soulmate for so long, to this...

“Here,” he says, roughly pushing the panel towards Kino, his eyes never leaving your face. “Go see Melshi. We’ll catch up.”

The man grunts something, and begins to wade to shore with the panel, and then he’s forgotten as Cassian is drawn back to you on instinct.

His arms tighten around your waist, and he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He’s struck.

You cup his face, gaze flitting between his eyes and his mouth, your breaths mingling, and then suddenly he’s pressing his mouth against yours.

You let out a cute little gasp against him, and his chest flutters, as you yield to him.

Yes. He burns with the rightness of this moment, and yet braces you against him as he deepens the kiss, like he’s afraid you’re going to slip away. He doesn’t quite believe you’re real yet.

Your fingers dig into his hair, and he likes it, the way you pull him into you with the same hunger and desperation he’s feeling.

“Cassian,” he breathes suddenly, pulling back for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours. “My real name is Cassian.”

“Cassian,” you repeat, and then your mouth curves into a smile - a fucking smile.

He almost groans. His soulmark pulses warmly against you. “You’re alive.”

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding against him.

“You’re my soulmate.”

You nod again, clinging tight to him. “Yes.”

A low, reverent chuckle escapes him, and you let out a light giggle in response; together relishing in the intimacy of this moment.

And then you cant your hips, and his laugh turns into a groan, a new kind of bliss making itself known in the hardening of his length beneath his pants. He thinks he’s never seen anything as beautiful as the look in your eyes. Full of passion - a beautiful, twisting flame, but also, understanding. You barely know each other, and yet it’s like your souls know each other intimately; bound together by something greater than either of you can fathom.

With a swift motion, he sweeps your legs out from underneath you and hitches your thighs around his waist so you're floating in the water, anchored in place by him alone.

You press yourself into him, arching your back and leaning forward to brush your lips against his.

He kisses you with all the fervour and unfulfilled need building inside him. His hands come around your ass and dig in, tugging your crotch against him so you can feel his hardness.

Another heady, submissive gasp escapes you against his mouth, and when your legs open further to let him settle against you, he's done for.

“I know you’re probably tired,” he murmurs, “and we should probably get to shore, but I...”

You're nodding before he even finishes the sentence, making his heart soar with the needy look in your eyes. “Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, yes, please, Cassian, please.”

With a breathless laugh, he drops your thighs and takes you by the waistband of your pants instead.

Together, you work to pull it off of you. It’s awkward, messy, not how he imagined this going, but it doesn’t matter. The mood is playful as you struggle to pull your pants off beneath the water - you, bracing yourself on his shoulders, and him, trying to pull it off your legs and getting splashed in the process.

But then suddenly you’re fully naked from the waist down, and your laughter quietens as you draw close to each other again.

He can’t see your naked lower half beneath the dark water, but he can feel when you wrap your legs around him again.

Slowly, he places his hand on your bare thigh, treating the moment with all the reverence of a ritual, his soulmark tingling in anticipation and sending a shudder through his body.

With his other hand, he cups your face, searching your gaze.

“I’m clean.”

“Same.”

“Birth control?”

Something like pain flickers in your eyes, and you shake your head. “Not since... before.”

“Right. Of course.”

He hesitates.

The two of you just escaped prison, and if he’s learnt anything, this is not the kind of galaxy he wants to risk bringing a child into. He’s not even sure if he’ll survive tomorrow.

“What do you want to do then?”

“We could die tomorrow.” You shift in his arms, pulling yourself flush against him until his hardness presses firmly between you. “Fuck it.”

He tilts his head, a slight grin curling on his face. Stars, when you say it like that... With a clench of his jaw, he pulls you down slowly and impales you on his hardness.

His head falls back. You’re fucking tight. A raw, incredulous groan rises from his throat.

Your reaction has his head spinning - fingers winding through his grown-out hair and pulling desperately against him. He loves little hiss you make.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes flutter open to meet his gaze and his seed almost spills, only holding himself back with the barest restraint. Must savour this moment. Finally being inside you - his soulmate.

He pulls you in for a hungry kiss. Heat rises between your bodies as you give yourself over to his touch, opening your mouth into his kiss and arching your back for him.

It’s too much. Unable to stop himself, his hands grip you by your thighs and he fully impales you, forcing your tight, inner channel muscles to give way and let his shaft thrust full inside you.

You brace his shoulders and writhe in pleasure. “Oh, Cassian, please, m-move - ”

That’s all he hears before his instincts take over, and he uses all his strength to thrust, desperate to wedge himself so far inside you he’ll never leave.

He plants his feet on the sea floor and braces you against him as you cant your hips for him. Your bodies are working overtime to create that toe-curling friction, thrusting into each other with bruising force, the waves splashing and breaking over your entwined forms.

Your mouths clash in a tangle of heated, desperate kisses that burn him from within. The tension is pulled taut between you, soulmarks thrumming in time with each other as you desperately unite your bodies as one.

He rocks his hips up between your open legs and hits home harder and harder with each slosh of the water. His hands grip you by the back of your shirt, fingers scrambling against the fabric to pull your body down as hard as he can.

Your head lols back in the water, a gasp escaping your throat. “Cassian! Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop - oh!”

He grunts in approval. His hunger for you grows, seeing you so vulnerable like this for him, desperate to hold out as long as he can to pleasure you. His thrusts grow even more frantic and sloppy - a fast, brutal jerking rhythm of pounding up into your cunt.

“My hope,” he murmurs in Kenari, barely hanging on to his sanity. “Better than anything I’d ever dreamt of.” He drinks in the sight of you, wet and vulnerable and all his, and his hardness gives a heady warning pulse of heat. He groans. “You’re everything. You’re mine.”

You let out a whimper in his arms, and then you’re tensing, your thighs, clenching around him with newfound strength.

“Cassian,” you moan through gritted teeth, “Cassian!”

The first jolt of pleasure wracks through his body without warning. At the realisation that you’re climaxing, he’s had it - he can’t hold back anymore.

He groans in disbelief. His brows draw together, the deep, intense, deliberate jerking of his body against yours faltering as pleasure takes over. A sound comes out of him, a mix between a desperate plea and praise, and then he’s coming inside you.

Fierce, intense waves of heat pulse into your raw, messy, clenching cunt.

His pleasure deepens as you open your legs even farther to receive his spend inside you. With a growl, he pulls you against him and jerks his hips against you once more, finishing himself off.

“Yes,” you moan, leaning forward and pressing your forehead against his. The change in angle shields your face from the starlight, but the sound of your shuddering, desperate pants of breath are clear as day. You’re high on this shared bliss together.

“Don’t want to wake up,” he murmurs against your lips.

“You think I’m a dream?”

He traces up your arm and wraps his hand around the back of your neck. “You’re too good to be real. I’m not that lucky.”

You chuckle. “You are now.”

“We’ll see.”

It isn’t until the next morning, when he opens his eyes to the first rays of sun and you’re still there, asleep in his arms, that he finally allows himself to believe.

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amywritesthings · 6 months

Text

ownership of mine (4/4)

pairing: kino loy x f!reader ( andor ) word count: 2.2k summary: The Empire has integrated their prison systems, with you as one of the few women now incarcerated at Narkina 5. The unit manager takes you under his wing – but for reasons you didn’t anticipate.

tags: 18+ MINORS DNI! post-narkina arc, peril, presumed character death (he ain't dead gtfo of here), alcohol, angst with a happy ending a/n: this epilogue-ish chapter is dedicated to the wonderful people of next big franchise. without you all, this fic wouldn't have been possible. my many thanks for your laughs and friendship over the last year.

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR

welcome to the tenth day of the twelve days of amymas !!

Seven-hundred days.

It would have been seven-hundred entire days since you last stepped foot on solid earth;

Since your last real meal;

Since you made a vow to keep your head low, to serve, so that you could finally see the sun again.

And you were going to see the sun again.

Your sentence was drawing to a close with little incident.

Kino Loy would leave first, and you would follow.

Your new life was right there.

—but then the prison riots happened, and everything went to shit.

The day Cassian Andor arrived at Narkina 5 is still a hazy one.

You recognized the fire in his eyes right away; a death wish walking on two legs.

Cassian wanted out of here the minute he stepped foot in this place.

(Didn’t he know he had to serve his time, keep his head low, and do what he must?)

He became Kino's new problem and, naturally, yours.

Every day after became a blur.

Kino continued to keep order, to remind everyone of the common goal, even with Andor's poison of fighting their way out.

The floor manager still met you with secret touches, longing stares, and whispered promises to meet you at the showers when the unit was busy feeding...

But then something changed.

Veemoss dies. One hundred men on Level Two get fried.

The final domino was the passing of Ulaf.

Something snapped, and that something — that someone — was Kino.

Because Kino Loy wasn't busy keeping order, no.

The opposite:

Kino Loy was readily agreeing to chaos.

Order was an illusion.

The other floors were frying.

No one was getting out of the bottom of this pit.

One way out.

So your Unit banded together and pushed up.

Up, up, until you took the prison for yourselves.

Up, up, until you saw the expanse of a tumultuous sea.

Then down — off the platform, pushed by the other desperate prisoners.

Into the freezing water, where you fought for your lungs to propel you to shore.

Away from Narkina 5.

All without Kino.

You’d lost the fearless leader of Five-Two-D somewhere in the mayhem.

Kino!

The constant of sweaty hands and bustling bare feet made it hard standing still as you shouted his name.

Kino!

A brief moment of relief passes through your body when you see that familiar head of salt and pepper hair.

Your eyes connect. He looks just as worried as you — until he sees that you're safe.

I can’t swim.

You swear you heard it — Kino’s voice, but it's too late.

One burly prisoner knocks straight into you to dive off the platform, knocking you backwards with him.

You lose your footing.

The world is weightless as you fall to the ocean.

Your back collides with the water, leaving you with little choice:

Either you live or you die.

You can't go back for him.

Too many bodies are falling to the depths, and if you don't move, then you may get crushed.

So you choose:

You swim.

You swim and never look back.

SIX MONTHS LATER

It’s freezing at this outpost.

However, it’s better to be freezing in the Outer Rim than living in fear within the inner cities. That would be a surefire way of getting caught by the Empire.

Besides, you don't hate it here. The people are nice. Everyone mostly keeps to themselves.

You've finally seen the sun, eaten hot meals.

You've built a life.

As you enter your favorite dive of a cantina, you’re met with a swirl of artificial warmth. The bar curls at the center of the tiny establishment. A lone singer, a wanted criminal of the Empire herself, croons gently on the makeshift stage at the far right corner. The air reeks of the seasonal ale.

Scharzi, the Iktochi bartender, gives you a sage nod.

You’re welcomed here, even if you don’t usually speak much.

For the longest time, you spoke with no one.

(Paranoia seeped into your very bones.)

After a few weeks, however, you choose to chat with the locals.

It seems like everyone's on the run from the Empire in one way or another. Fugitives with a past and a present, not looking towards much of a future.

Maybe life is simple, dull, in the Outer Rim, but you all agree on one thing:

At least it’s free.

When you sit and shrug off your coat, you give a bland smile to the bartender and hold up a finger: the usual.

They’ve decorated this hole in the wall better than most.

An assortment of winter decorations, lights and strings, line the low ceilings of this place.

It’s cozier with the added lights. Less bleak and depressing.

Scharzi glances at you briefly as his assistant, a small twi’lek — Phia — earning her keep, smiles at you.

Phia is peppy despite her grave interactions with the Empire, scorned and orphaned, but Scharzi has done the best he can to give her shelter and a place to hide.

To be a ghost, like the rest of you.

“Doing anything for the holiday this weekend?” she asks after pushing a goblet of your usual ale to you.

Glancing up at the eager young woman, you shake your head. “Not particularly.”

“Well, we’ll be open our usual hours. I’m sure Charlie and a few others will be coming around,” Phia cheerfully informs.

She cleans up a sticky circle on the counter as a body takes a seat on the stool beside you.

“Then I guess I’ll be here tomorrow, too,” you tell her, scooting on your bar stool to give the stranger some room.

“You better bring your best holiday wish, then.”

“A wish?”

“Yeah, we always do them here.” Phia glances to the man beside you. “What can I get you?”

He waves her off without a word.

(Not uncommon around these parts.)

“Just tell me when you do want something, alright?” she pleasantly tells him, before turning her back to the wall of liquor bottles to rearrange them. “So? What’s your wish?”

You snort, taking another long gulp of your drink.

"My wish?"

"Yeah! Lay it on me. I promise telling doesn't make it not come true."

“It won’t ever come true, so." You sip again, shaking your head. "I don't particularly feel worried about it not happening.”

“Now that I doubt,” Phia counters, sing-song and light. “C'mon. Try me. Hypothetically, what would you make your wish?”

This is stupid.

Then again, so is trying to survive as hard as you have.

There isn’t a point to it, to any of it, yet you live freely out of spite and spite alone.

(The Empire will not win.)

“My wish. I guess I’d wish for… ha, well, I lost someone.”

You trail off before becoming resolute. Certain.

You see him in your mind’s eyes — the way he ducked his chin while sitting on his knees, staring you in the eye with the promise of a better tomorrow.

You earned this.

Your heart clenches.

“He, uh… I think he passed away a few months back. I don’t really know what happened to him. I hope it didn't come to that, but it was unlikely he survived. I think my wish would be getting to see him again, some day.”

The awkwardness of Phia’s stare makes you down the rest of your ale before giving it back.

“Mind topping me off?”

The twi’lek nods solemnly, taking the ale and disappearing around the semi-circle bar to bring you a fresh pint.

His words linger on your tongue, sticking to the roof of your mouth.

You earned this.

Living.

Breathing.

Being.

“Bloody awful wish if you ask me.”

The stranger beside you speaks up.

Their voice is baritone, low with an unmistakable growl.

You almost drop your drink from the shock.

In a flash, you whip your attention to an older man staring back at you: white curls with a growing salt and pepper beard, shorter in height yet twice as intense in the eyes.

His cheeks and nose are reddened by the cold outside.

Maybe Phia laced the ale with something, because you know you’re not drunk.

Maybe you’re tired. Hallucinating.

Or maybe—

“Should spend a wish on something that’s not so easy to come true,” Kino Loy grunts, setting his hands on the bar top as he regards you.

You can’t speak.

Won’t.

You’re too afraid to blink the illusion away.

The older man stares you down, waiting in silence until Phia brings back your second ale.

“Mind giving me what she’s having?” he asks the young barkeep, knowingly making her take a second trip around the other end of the bar to give you space.

"Sure thing! She likes 'em strong, hope that's alright," Phia chirps.

Kino thumbs at his nose. "I'll do my best to handle it."

You haven't stopped staring. You're sure Phia notices your wide-eye gaze.

It doesn't matter, because no matter how much you blink, Kino is still there.

He keeps his chin ducked while he waits to be alone again, before his voice smooths out the edges.

(Just like he always did, when it was only the two of you.)

“Didn’t bring a bloody bouquet of Queen’s Hearts with me, but—”

“How?”

You hate how much of a bark the question is, but the blurt must come before you’re rendered mute.

Kino’s mouth presses to a thin line of regret.

“Is this real?” you whisper, voice dropping to a whisper of uncertainty. “Because I heard—”

“I know.”

“And I saw—”

“I know,” he repeats with a heavy sigh. “It’s more complicated then what we have time for tonight. I’m not here to relive the past, kid. Maybe another night, but not this one.”

Your brain reels with memories you once swallowed so far down they stuck to the pit of your stomach, now threatening to spill here:

Kino Loy, alive and well, at the very Outer Rim city you’ve been hiding in all this time.

“How the hell did you find me?” you quietly reply, absently tightening your grip on the handle of your ale as you process the scent of him.

Faint cologne lingers, new, but it’s still him.

It’s still him.

Kino mumbles a thank you to the twi’lek bartender who then disappears once she hands him the ale, allowing you the illusion of privacy in this cantina.

“...you’re not easy to find, I'll give you that,” he explains, taking a sip of the ale.

His eyes slip close, relishing in its taste, before taking a second, much bigger gulp.

“Had to ask around, but I remember you mentioning this place. Remember you mentioning a couple of places, figured maybe you chose to hide out on one of 'em."

"And you..."

"Went to every single one? Yeah," he supplies. "I’m not one to waste time. Not when we’re living on a borrowed case of it, so I hit up as many places as I could. Finally found you on this one.”

Kino allows a moment to pass, settling his ale back on the bar top, before he leans in.

You don’t move, mesmerized by the way his chest rises and falls under his gray tunic.

Alive.

Alive, alive, alive—

“I told you once that we’d get the hell out of that shitehole, once and for all, and I’d buy you whatever drink fits your fancy at the nearest cantina.”

The man reaches a slow, cautious hand from the table.

Magnetism draws you in, desperate to feel something stable, something warm.

Eventually his palm connected with your cheek and you’re threatened with a surge of emotion.

Same calluses. Same stroke of his thumb.

Simultaneously, you both suck in a sharp breath — two octaves of the same relief.

It’s as though an electric spark flows between you, and you find yourself nuzzling his palm with a longing that’s propelled you for six straight months.

Kino chuckles under his breath at this, only to move in closer.

His other hand cups your face, cradling your head in his reach.

“Sorry I couldn’t find the bloody flowers,” he exhales. “Not exactly welcome at the pearly gates of Naboo, if you could imagine that.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the flowers, Kino,” you inhale, earning another rumbling laugh from the older man.

“No, didn’t think you would.”

When you slip your eyes open, you see him shake his head as if mesmerized by what’s before him.

You stare right back, raising your hands to gently rest against his.

Kino studies your face in the dim lights of the cantina, Adam’s apple bobbing from a thick swallow.

He frowns briefly, as if plagued by a morose thought, before his shoulders droop.

There’s so much to say.

So many doors have closed…

Yet reuniting with the man who taught you to fight to live feels like a fresh start, all the same.

“I’ll take that drink, though,” you murmur, forcing a tired smile to play on your lips.

The former unit manager’s eyes instantly drop to your mouth.

“Whatever you want, love, so long as you’ll have me.”

The smile on your face grows.

He mirrors, huffing and smiling back — only to drag you in for a searing, devastated kiss.

For the first time in years, hope is within the confines of your galaxy.

#kino loy x reader #kino loy x f!reader #kino loy x you #kino loy fanfiction #andor fanfiction #andor fanfic #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #star wars fic #kino x you #kino x reader #andor fic #kino loy fanfic #twelve days of amymas

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p-paradoxa · 8 months

Text

Andor Appreciation Week

Day Three: Favorite Arc/Episodes - Narkina 5

Melshi observes. For @andorappreciation. Some Melshi x Cassian; warning for brief injury description.

Unit 5-2-D, Table 5. Twelfth—no, thirteenth shift since the new guy arrived. I don’t really keep count, but Keef’s as good a reference point as any.

The room’s not falling behind any longer, Kino says, but it feels like we’re rushing more than we used to. Building up our productivity little by little, pushing our limits further. I think Kino knows it, too, but he’d be damned before he admits it.

There’s some tension on the floor today. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. You get numb to it eventually. But the way that guy at Table Four—Jergen, I think his name is—seized up when they got fried yesterday seemed to rattle the newer blood. It was grim, I admit; the way he went down and his limbs all locked up.

Not all guys take these kinds of things the same way. Most of us just look away. We can't do anything about it. Others—newer guys, like I said—stare and gawk, especially if they haven’t been fried past level one yet.

But I was standing there at the table, across from Keef, and I couldn’t forget his face as Kino called the med tech.

Keef didn’t look rattled. Just angry. A shake of the head, that clenching of the jaw he does, restraining something. It was subtle, but I saw it.

I think he gets it. Gets that this isn’t punishment.

If I were Jergen, I would’ve worked harder for the sake of the table, and to save my own hide. But it’s not as if he did anything wrong. Well, I suppose we’ve all done something wrong. But our captors don’t really care about that. A petty thief gets fried just the same as a murderer. A man with one shift left isn’t spared more mercy than a man with a hundred.

It’s not punishment. It’s cruelty. A slow and calculated torture. They could build machines to do this work, but they won’t. The Empire was born using loads of cheap, disposable lives. It isn't going to stop now just because we don't all look alike. We can’t just drill or weld or build our way out of this.

Jergen’s back to work now. Saw him on program this morning. I can’t see how he’s doing, and I don’t care. All I care about is being able to stand on my own two feet without feeling like I’m walking on cinders.

And I don’t want to see that happen to these guys, either. Especially not Ulaf. I don’t think the old man could take another volt.

It goes well. We’ve hit our goal, and if we get another down, we’ll surpass it. Might even get some flavor for dinner tonight.

We’re screwing on the outer shell, finishing up the device we're working on, when Xaul shouts “Kriff!” all of a sudden.

He drops the drill onto the table and pulls his hand back.

We glance up at him. “You good?” I ask. He looks fine to me; no blood drawn. But I have to be sure.

“Yeah. Just fucking pinched it.” He’s rubbing his right index finger. Must’ve caught it between the rivets. It happens. It’ll heal. We have to move on, though. We're almost there.

Keef decides not to let it go.

“I’ll cover you,” he mutters. He moves in and finishes the rivet Xaul was drilling.

“Like hell you will,” Xaul chides lightly. “Kino’ll have your ass. I’m fine.”

“We just gotta build one more, right? He won’t notice in time.”

We’re ahead of schedule. If we weren’t, I’d say that losing a man would slow us down too much. But Xaul’s taking his sweet time nursing that finger. He’d slow us down, anyway. So I don’t complain. Neither does anyone else.

“Alright,” Xaul relents. “Let's be subtle about it, okay?”

Keef nods. Xaul hovers over him while the last rivets are drilled in. His finger looks a little swollen.

The rest of us have finished our part. I watch Keef finish the job, his eyes trained on the little metal bits. He’s still fresh, still getting used to the motions, but his hands know when to release the switch. He’s good with them. Must’ve been a technician or scrapper of some sort.

I don’t realize I’m still watching until Jemboc motions for us to lift the thing up. It’s already done.

“Melshi, let’s go!”

I push down some lump in my throat and I nod. We lift up the device and get moving. One more to go.

Dinner tonight is syrupy sweet, like chocolate. More of a dessert than dinner, I guess. It tastes painfully artificial, only an approximation of what I remember dessert being like. But it’s a nice change of pace. We haven’t been the lead table for some time.

Kino praises us. He means it genuinely. He likes to see good performance; thinks it reflects well on him, too. Today, I don’t have the heart to tell him that it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t care about performance. I just want to live and eat and sleep. That’s as much as any of us can hope for.

But as I finish up and prepare to collapse into sleep, I realize I’m feeling better than usual. It was probably the food. Being in first place didn't hurt, either.

The lights dim. The floor goes hot. I turn to get into a sleeping position. I see Keef down there, reclined against his cell wall, looking up ponderingly, and my breath catches a bit.

Wrong on both accounts. It’s him.

It’s true. The new guy’s been interesting. He’s skilled and observant. Plus, most other guys ignore my advice. They go on about how much they’re looking forward to getting out, and it just leads to mistakes. The ones who count down the days inevitably slip up, and suddenly their number’s higher. I’ve seen it happen too many times. I wish it wouldn’t.

Keef hasn't been like that. He listens, quietly, and I can tell there’s something boiling beneath. I could see that yesterday.

Then today, I learned a bit more. He’s concerned about himself, sure, but I learned he’s nice. That might put him in a tough spot one day, if it hasn’t already. But I don’t think that would stop him.

I briefly wonder who he is. What he’s done. I never care about that, but I want to know just for the sake of knowing him.

I ignore that. It’s dark, but the soft red light catches in his eyes and I know he sees I’m watching.

I let this feeling hang in the air for a bit, whatever it is. I look away first. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. There’s only the buzzing of the floor and the chorus of familiar breathing. Some guy down the row starts to talk, and another one tells him to pipe down. It goes quiet. It keeps going quiet.

Nothing I could say would change anything about my circumstances. Not here.

I just lie down. Have to stay on schedule. I think I hear a “Goodnight” from the man across the floor, but it could’ve been my imagination.

I take longer to go to sleep, but eventually, I do.

Then it’s the same routine again. And again. I can't know when it ends.

I still don’t look at the number. I never do. But I find myself looking forward to the new day a little more.

#sorry this is late i got carried away #andorappreciation2023 #ruescott melshi #melshi x cassian #melshian #fic tag

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uwingdispatch · 1 year

Text

Babes I made us some treats. These Star Wars x Taylor Swift Spotify shaker keychains are putting me in my feels. First we’ve got Jyn and Cassian:

Jyn’s song is “You’re On Your Own Kid” and Cassian’s song is “this is me trying.” Yes I hurt my own feelings while making these.

Jyn’s shaker has a photo of her, her childhood doll Stormy, and her blaster from Rogue One. Cassian’s shaker has a photo of him, his U-Wing and his blaster from Andor.

And then I made this one for Chopper:

Chopper’s song is “Karma.” Which honestly…just replace every instance of “karma” in the song with “Chopper” ….it just makes sense.

His shaker has him, the Phantom, and a thermal detonator (his favorite).

Finally I did this non-swiftie shaker for the Narkina-5 girlies.

This shaker has “One Way Out - Part 8” as the song. Inside is a photo each of Cassian, Kino, and Melshi.

These are available here. I hope you enjoy them because I have definitely gone off the rails.

#star wars #rogue one #cassian andor #andor #andor series #melshi #ruescott melshi #kino loy #jyn erso #rebelcaptain #chopper #star wars chopper #c1 10p #star wars rebels #ahsoka series #taylor swift #swifties #midnights

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tarrenterror25 · 1 year

Video

✨ Sweet Escape from Narkina 5! ✨

This ended up turning into like a Cassian x Kino bestie clip! Enjoy this silly little thing I put together!

I don’t own any of the footage or the music!

Clips are from Andor and song is Sweet Escape by Gwen Stefani

#andor #cassian andor #kino loy #narkina 5 #star wars #diego luna #andy serkis

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mostthingskenobi · 1 year

Video

youtube

THIS EDIT MAKES CRY EVERY! SINGLE! TIME! IT’S BEAUTIFULLY DONE!

#cassian #Cassian Andor #Andor #diego luna #rogue one #rogue one a star wars story #star wars #star wars rogue one #jyn #jyn Erso #cassian x jyn #jyn and cassian #maarva andor #kino loy #andy serkis #Fiona Shaw #felicity jones

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ladyxskywalker · 2 years

Text

NOV 2022

fandoms featured on this list: star wars, rogue one, andor, moon knight, pedro pascal, triple frontier, multi. fandom

* coffee fund *

thank you to the amazing fic writers for sharing some wonderful stories with all of us ! & to the kind readers for their support. 💙

please assume that all works & the blogs they belong to are 18+ only

mature adult content will be marked with a double asterisk **

be sure to check all warnings & tags before reading, feel free to skip if something isn't for you

& of course, enjoy responsibly

all the love xo A ☕

** I have been taking a little break from the blog, so the Nov & Dec reading list will be a little shorter than usual. There are some really great finds here that I think you will love ! Hope you will stick around xo **

hope you enjoy ! & happy reading ! 🤗

please send me things to read ! favorite fics or something you've written that you're proud of ! 💌

find more monthly fic recs over on my masterlist, Dec 2022 coming soon ! ✨

please let me know if you would like to be removed

✨ new authors & characters added for the first time !

✨ some authors are mentioned more than once throughout the list, check to see if your works are there !

STAR WARS

✨ Anakin Skywalker

Making Out with Ani by @laserbrains (gn!reader) **

✨ Din Djarin

Din Djarin helping with your fear of animals by @archieimagines (cw: fear, anxiety, banthas)

Feel It by @ezrasbirdie (din x cobb) **

Grogu’s Teacher (series) by @firstofficerwiggles (f!reader)

Oceans in the Desert by @wyn-n-tonic (cw: grief, loss)

Ranting to Din while he repairs the Razor Crest by @archieimagines

Shatter Me (series) by @writeforfandoms (f!reader) (a season two divergent series)

Touching Din by @archieimagines (sfw touching, angst)

✨ Fennec Shand

Indigo by @artemiseamoon (modern, cinderella, fairytale au) (prince!fennec x ofc)

✨ Luke Skywalker

Shower/Bath Sex with Luke by @laserbrains (afab!reader) **

✨ Obi Wan Kenobi

Crystal Clear by @hellotherekenobi (gn!reader) (cw: battle, injuries, anxiety)

First Lady by @tropodyn (sith!obi wan) (f!reader) (link no longer available 😭)

Stardust (And Other Varieties) by @wickedscribbles (cis afab reader) (cw: implied age gap, force bone, library, mature adult content) **

Temptation’s Kiss by @hellotherekenobi

✨ Poe Dameron

Alright, That Happened by @dreamlandcreations (cw: hair pulling, kinktober) **

Survive Now, Then Flirt by @flightlessangelwings (cw: mild violence, angst) (gn!reader)

You Are In Love (series) by @alwritey-aphrodite (modern au) (f!reader)

ANDOR

✨ Cassian Andor

Hold Me Through the Storm by @archieimagines

✨ Kino Loy

Hoping Against Hope by @saradika (kino loy x wife!oc) **

✨ Ruescott Melshi

Before. When. After. by @littlemisspascal (a three part prison /narkina 5 au) (f!reader) **

MOON KNIGHT

✨ Marc Spector

Helping Marc Through a Panic Attack by @archieimagines (cw: grief, panic, anxiety, nightmares, DID, ptsd, angst)

Marc Winking At You In Public by @archieimagines

✨ Steven Grant

Asking Steven Out to Dinner by @archieimagines

Complaining to Steven About Work by @archieimagines

Dream A Little Dream of Me by @redahlia-writes (f!reader) (fake dating, christmas time)

I’m Right Next Door by @flightlessangelwings (gn!reader)

I’m Yours by @in-between-the-cafes (f!reader)

PEDRO PASCAL

✨ Ezra (Prospect)

Love you, endlessly by @artemiseamoon (ofc) (read in full on ao3)

✨ Frankie Morales

Seen by @clydesducktape (werewolf au) (f!reader)

✨ Misc. Pedro Characters

How Did You Love (series) by @writeforfandoms

TRIPLE FRONTIER

✨ Benny Miller

A Fall Getaway by @artemiseamoon (f!reader) (read in full on ao3)

MISC./MULTI FANDOM

✨ The Amazing Spider Man

Keeping Secrets by @luveline (cw: blood, injuries)

✨ Black Pather: Wakanda Forever

(** may contain spoilers **)

Namor the Sub-Mariner

My Queen, My Sun and My Sea by @mooncleaver (f!talokan!reader) (cw: death, colonizers)

✨️ The Originals / The Vampire Diaries

An Act That Brought You Joy (series) by Merontheshore on ao3 (elena gilbert x the originals) **

✨ Werewolf by Night

Jack Russell

Night Crawling (series) by @moonlight-prose (f!reader)

#star wars fanfiction #andor fanfiction #moon knight fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #tasm fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #pxk monthly reading list 💌#pxk queue #fic recs 💫

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littlemisspascal · 2 years

Text

The Before

Pairing: Ruescott Melshi x Female Reader

Word Count: 4000+

Summary: There is a story before, when, and after Keef Girgo enters your life. This is the Before.

Rating: M (18+, minors please do not engage!)

Warnings: Prison/Narkina 5 storyline but an AU where woman inmates are assigned to each unit as 'peacekeepers', language, established relationship, non-descriptive smut + references of smut, possessiveness, rough handling, biting, references of violence + blood, non-descriptive suicide (not major character death)

- Reader has no official name and no physical traits described in detail. However, she is picked up twice + is implied to be shorter than Melshi (because I'm a sucker for height differences)

Author Note: So...Idk what happened, I just watched Andor and something about the prison arc really resonated with me. And I really loved Melshi’s scenes and his connection with Cassian (or, Keef, I guess technically lol) so I decided to give writing for him a shot. I am not a smut writer, it’s just not for me, but I wanted to also try to step outside my usual comfort zone a little bit too when writing and thus---this fic was born. Hope someone enjoys it 😊

Special thanks to @beecastle for beta reading and encouraging me 💜

The When

There is a scar across the top of Melshi’s hand that flashes silvery-white whenever the light catches it just right. You’ve been mesmerized by it for almost a dozen shifts now. His hands, in general, have starred in many of your dreams: the sandpaper quality of his skin, thick fingers covered in calluses, how they flex and fidget when he works.

Once upon a time your mind used to torture you by fantasizing what those hands would feel like touching you. If he’d be rough or gentle. How lucky you are now to know reality is better than even your wildest fantasies.

From the other side of the table, where he’s twisting a bolt into place with a hydrospanner, Melshi’s eyes lift to meet yours. The sleeves of his uniform are rolled up, exposing pale skin rippling as his muscles tighten and slacken with every movement. You track the faint blue lines of veins along the tender flesh of his wrists, up his forearms, imagining you can follow them all the way to his heart. The whooshing of blood pumping in your ears is nearly loud enough to block out the ruckus of machinery sounds.

Nearly.

Melshi’s brow twitches, a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it show of concern. An unspoken question only you hear. What’s wrong?

Other prisoners have described this place as hell, but you're not so sure. Hell is pain and anguish on an infinite loop—a fitting description to a T, except for one glaring exception. Narkina 5 has Melshi. So it can’t be hell, you reckon, because Melshi is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. He’s your everything.

Nothing, absolutely nothing can compete with what you have within these walls. Fresh air, sunshine, the smell of the dirt after it rains. You’d trade them all if it meant staying by his side.

You give the smallest shake of your head. Nothing. An even subtler quirk of an eyebrow. Thinking.

There’s more you could say. A whole book of dialogue exchanged in shrugs, facial tics, and flaring nostrils. Melshi would follow along with every nonexistent word.

But you don’t need to say anything else. Melshi understands your silences too.

He winks, sly as a fox.

Back to work, little dreamer.

—

The view outside the window is the same above as it is below, dozens of skybridges full of men standing in lines with a single woman spotted here and there amongst them. You press your forehead against the glass, reminiscent of your childhood days on commercial flights. Behind you, Melshi stands alert, keeping an eye on Kino shouting orders further up ahead, ready to pull you back in line at a second’s notice. He holds your hand, thumb absently rubbing circles.

For a moment, you contemplate stealing his attention. Look, Rue, you’d say, tapping at the window, gesturing to the gaps between the ugly facility where water pours down in torrents, breathtaking in its intensity. And Melshi would turn his head, dark eyes burning like a wildfire, and you’d forget the view immediately, discovering a far more beautiful sight.

But Kino opens his mouth again and you’re tugged back in line and the moment’s gone.

—

One morning, Ulaf gives you a scrutinizing look, his aged eyes dark and full of knowing, and says, “He’s it for you, isn’t he?”

The two of you walk side by side to the work ring, your turn to make sure he doesn’t get pushed around by the other prisoners. Up ahead, Melshi looks back every other step, glaring at anyone who gets too close to you, softening when he catches you smiling.

“Yes,” you say simply, feeling warm all over. “He is.”

—

You’ve hit another milestone. Your sentence is now in the double digits. It’s not the lowest on the level, that honor goes to Ulaf, but still, not everyone lasts this long. All the Table Five guys come up and pat you on the back when they hear. All of them, except for Melshi.

You get it—or you think you do, at least. Because your time together has felt like a bubble, a separate realm from the rest of the universe. This milestone is a ticking bomb threatening to destroy that.

This milestone is one step closer to a goodbye.

“It’s inevitable, dream. Our ending was written from the start,” Melshi says, and goes into his cell. Lights out is near. You’re standing on the floor, arms crossed over your chest, loathing the tense points of his shoulder blades beneath the white and orange scrubs.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? We both know it’s the truth.”

You stomp your foot and Melshi shoots you a look, squinting like he doesn’t recognize you anymore. You meet his stare unflinchingly.

He turns away a beat later, sighing through his nose. “C’mon, get inside.”

And that should be the end of it. You should let go of your churning frustration and join him in bed. Both of you should just keep on pretending everything’s fine, fall back smoothly into the same routines, and when your final shift comes you’ll leave without hesitation, never looking back. Just like the woman who left before you and the woman who left before her.

You’re not like those other women, though. Everyone’s said so—you still smile, still laugh. Still dream. So you remain motionless, even as the buzzer rings out and the floor lights blink.

“Quit fooling around, dream,” Melshi snaps, eyes darting between the floor and your face. His nostrils flare, mouth hard, but you know him better than anyone, see the cracks of worry behind his steely anger. “Either come here or get in your cell.”

Your eyes narrow.

“Dream.”

The overhead bulbs switch off.

“Dreamer.” His fear is blatant now, the whites of his eyes shining.

He’s not the only anxious one. Inmates are leaning out of their cells all along the block, some shouting at you to move, others watching with bated breath for a possible show of sparks and your bloodcurdling wails. You can feel Kino’s gaze drilling holes into you, and you know he knows nothing he says or does will influence you to move.

The only person who has that power is right in front of you.

Melshi.

The floor lights flicker their final warning.

Melshi, who’s snatching you around the waist and hauling you off the floor, all but throwing you into the safety of his cell. Melshi, who’s crowding you against the wall, grip harsh enough there’s sure to be bruises in the morning. Melshi who doesn’t want to say goodbye either.

“There are no inevitabilities with us. All we can depend on is each other, Rue,” you say, tilting your head back to lock gazes. He’s breathing harshly, chest heaving, but his eyes, oh his eyes are shining stars.

Defenses torn apart, emotions ripple across his face, one after the other like skipping stones. Anger, misery, panic, but underneath it all, what has your heart threatening to burst, is understanding. His right hand leaves your waist, seizing hold of your chin, forcing you to stay still. As if you’d rather be anywhere else.

“Don’t you ever do something so reckless like that again,” he says through gritted teeth, accent bolstered by his turmoil. His thumb ghosts over your bottom lip then, belying his temper. “I won’t always be there to save you.”

You lean forward in his hold, and the mere fact that he lets you sink into his personal space, hands winding around his neck, is proof enough of his devotion.

Your lips hover centimeters away from his, noses brushing, and a teasing smirk curls at the corner of your mouth as you peer up at half-lidded eyes dark with desire.

“Liar.”

—

The scarlet beam of a welding laser scorches the tender skin of your knuckles. It isn’t a severe burn—merely a painful inconvenience—but Melshi frets over it the rest of the shift and even afterwards in the sanctity of your shared cell, cradling your hand in his with all the gentleness of handling a baby bird.

“You need to stay focused, dreamer,” Melshi chastens, making a tsking sound with his tongue.

But you’ve been christened your moniker for a reason. Mind frequently drifting into the clouds far, far above, envisioning alternate lives beyond your underwater cage, making a home somewhere even the Empire and all its corruption cannot touch.

You grin back at him. “I kind of like it actually. We match now.”

Melshi glances down at his scarred hand, almost like he’d forgotten the mark was there. Something dark passes over his face, a shadow of a triggered memory. A chapter of his life he’ll never tell you about.

“Just don’t make it a habit,” is all he says.

—

It’s funny, in a way, how certain little elements of prison life start to feel comforting in their familiarness. A fresh set of scrubs every third day. Morning stretches with an ample variety of bedheads. Taga’s signing lessons. The boom of Kino’s voice. Flavorless mush in a tube. Feet padding along on chilled Tunqstoid tiles. The shrill whirs and whines of machinery. Melshi’s fingers trailing heat along your body, breaths and moans blurring together in the dark.

You wish you could reach out and bottle these moments, use them as painkillers on days when Table Five finishes last and the floor threatens to burn holes in the soles of your feet.

Jemboc nudges your arm with his, wondering where you drifted off to this time. You nudge him back, then shrug your shoulders. “Nowhere far.”

—

The guards don’t give two shits about what you and Melshi do after lights out. As long as you hold out your arm for a contraception injection at the start of each month and your “womanly influence” continues keeping the men of Unit Five-Two-D coolheaded, they won’t even care if you fucked a different cock every night.

They don’t need to care what happens to anybody dressed in white and orange—they’re not paid to care, only to press a couple of buttons and announce ominous messages over the intercom throughout the day. And you hate it. Hate them and the entire Empire manipulating the galaxy like a giant puppet on a string.

But you’re also a selfish creature.

What you have with Melshi, your messy and beautiful bond, has not only been allowed to grow in this gaping blind spot, but flourish. It’s like fate intertwined your paths. Like Narkina 5 was always in the cards from the get-go. And in the rare moments where Melshi looks at you with unbridled affection, that selfish part of you will sing joyously because this belongs to you, this is all you need to be happy. Nothing else.

The rest of the galaxy could burn to ashes.

—

You watch Melshi sleep, sometimes. Quiet, lower lip clenched between your teeth, not wanting to wake him up and lose the moment of indulgence.

You know what will happen if he catches you. It’s happened twice before and panned out the exact same way. He’ll give you a bleary-eyed look once he sees you staring. Followed immediately by unintelligible grumbling and a hand pulling you forward, burying your face into the nook between his neck and collarbone. A wordless command to go to sleep.

Holding his hand in the waiting lines and blowing him in the dark for three years, Melshi doesn’t mind at all. But watching him sleep, curled on his side with an arm slung over your waist, marveling at how much younger he looks while he dreams as the midnight hours tick by—that triggers the transformation of your strong and hardened lover into someone shy and wrongfooted. It does something funny to your heart, even funnier to your mind.

Makes you wonder how different he’d be if you’d met Melshi outside of prison, what would stay the same. Would he bring you flowers on your first date? Would he whisper mine in your ear and hold you flush against his chest while thrusting deep inside you?

Perhaps that’s the truth of why you keep watching Melshi sleep, to see glimpses of this alternate persona buried beneath the familiar layers.

You look up when fingers close around your wrist. And for a third time, you find yourself looking into the eyes of a stranger.

—

You first kissed Melshi on your 1,352th shift in the semi-privacy of the refresher, taking his face between your hands and smashing your mouths together.

It was all clashing teeth and needy tongues, and you tried to sink into the experience for all its worth, to let yourself be consumed entirely. But your heart pounded like a wrecking ball against your chest, and a voice in the back of your head screamed stop it! He’ll take advantage of you, for fuck’s sake!

The voice was momentarily drowned out by the wet heat of Melshi’s mouth, a teasing nip against your bottom lip, and a wave of pleasure rolled over you from head to toe, a dizzying and dearly missed sensation.

And then you forced yourself to pull away.

Melshi merely blinked at you, a little dazed looking, lips red and slightly swollen. Oh, Maker…

“Sorry,” you murmured, dragging your eyes away to look at a very interesting spot on the wall over his shoulder. “I-I wasn’t thinking. I just—”

“Liar,” Melshi cut you off, not unkindly. He smirked at your affronted look. “You’re always thinking, little dreamer.”

He wasn’t wrong. Your mind was always thinking, planning, imagining, drifting, analyzing. Still, you huffed and crossed your arms over your stomach. You’d rather he just reject you outright than continue exacerbating your discomfort.

“How often?”

You arched an eyebrow. “How often what?”

Melshi pinned you with a sharp look, like you were being purposefully difficult. He leaned closer then, and your breath caught as he brushed his fingertips over your temple, palm cradling your cheek. “How often do I cross your mind?”

You let out a shuddered exhale. You’d never been touched like that before. Touched like you were worth more than a quick fuck and a fake promise of calling again soon.

“Melshi,” you began only to be silenced by a thumb against your lips.

“Ruescott.”

Something inside of you cracked wide open.

“Ruescott,” you amended, voice barely above a murmur. His breath was hot against your cheeks, sending your thoughts into a whirlwind. “You…”

Maker, why was it so hard to focus?

You felt feverish all over. Every nerve ending ablaze. Melshi’s eyes never left yours. And he must have known. He must have.

“Ruescott,” you raised a hand, tentatively resting it over his, grounding yourself in the physical contact, “you never leave my mind.”

Something shifted in his gaze, a flicker of an emotion you couldn’t identify, and then Melshi lunged, swallowing your startled yelp with his mouth, lips colliding.

The sudden fierce moment had you stumbling backwards against the wall, but Melshi’s hand was quicker, protecting your skull from the hit. And you, you didn’t know if it were possible to pull him in any closer, hands fisted in the itchy fabric of his scrubs, his arousal grinding against your inner thigh, but fuck if you didn’t make an attempt.

Seconds, minutes, hours later—time had no meaning anymore, you were drunk on the taste of him—Melshi was the one dragging himself away with a low groan. You made an attempt to chase after his lips, but his hold on your upper arms was impossible to squirm out of, fingers flexing warningly.

“Not here, dream,” he said before throwing a glance over his shoulder.

Awareness of your surroundings abruptly came screaming back to you.

Oh, shit, you thought, the heat in your core extinguished immediately. Kissing was one thing to be caught doing, but two inmates letting loose their combined pent up sexual frustration in a fit of raw, unbridled fucking was quite another.

“Tonight,” he muttered, an oath sworn with another searing kiss. “Tonight I’m going to take care of you. I’ll fuck you so good every man on every level will know.”

You barely stifled the whimper in your throat. Insecurity bit at you, a parasite you couldn’t squash on your own. “Promise, Rue? You won’t leave me high and dry?”

Or worse, wet and wanting.

“Promise,” was the instant response; no hesitation, no thinking. And then, quieter, infused with such bleeding sincerity you felt the words like individual blows: “I’ll make you a second one, too. You’ll never have to worry about me leaving you.”

At the time you thought him romantic. Now you understand his real meaning: you’ll never know a day apart from him because your sentence is shorter than his.

—

“I love you,” you whisper in the midnight hours. Melshi pulls you closer, lips pressing against the crown of your head. One of his hands rests on the back of your neck, fingertips gently rubbing at your pulsepoint.

“When I…” he cuts himself off, and you can hear the quiver in his voice, the words catching in his throat. “When I dream about a life outside of here, you’re always there. Just you and me, somewhere warm…and...”

There’s a pause, a silence broken only by Melshi’s quiet exhale and faint snores from cells further down.

Your eyes sting, tears spilling down your cheeks. “And?”

“And we’re happy,” he says softly. “We’re so fucking happy.”

—

Group showers provoke warring emotions twice a week without fail.

On one hand, it’s nice to feel clean after sweating through your shifts. (Do you wish it didn’t require being tightly packed like sardines into a room with a bunch of unknown women and sprayed with frigid cold mist? Of course. But who’s gonna listen to your complaints? Nobody, that’s who.)

On the other hand, you’re separated from your group, from Melshi. And it’s like there are thorns digging into your backside the entire time, from the second you’re hustled away by a guard all too happy to leer at you while his hand rests pointedly on his zaprod to the moment you’re reunited with Unit Five-Two-D in the work room. Only when you’re back in their sight again—each of your Table Five boys sweeping their eyes over you, looking for signs of harm, a single hair out of place—you feel like you can breathe easily again.

You were brought here to be a peacekeeper amongst the men—negotiate with them, befriend them, be their punching bag or fucktoy, the method doesn’t matter so long as the conflict is settled—and on other levels you’d be expected to fulfill your duty to the utmost degree, but not here. Not here where Kino’s word is law and the men will suffer worse than a broken hand if they’re inappropriate with you.

Inmates aren’t supposed to think of themselves as lucky, not on Narkina 5 of all places, but you do.

To the guards, you’re a sacrificial lamb in a den of lions. Rumors say more women leave in body bags than by walking. But they have it all wrong in your case. You aren’t a lamb and the men aren’t lions.

You are a wolf, and they are your pack.

—

The odds are in Table Five’s favor today, resulting in a first place victory and flavored food waiting for you all in your cells. Between swallows the men banter and roughhouse like rowdy schoolboys, Xaul telling a crude joke about shaved banthas that makes you laugh so hard your ribs ache. Even Kino cracks a smile.

You lean back against Melshi’s chest, head tucked beneath his chin. Lucky, you think again, committing every detail to memory.

And you don’t know it yet—nobody does, not even the guards—but this is the last good day you’ll have at Narkina 5.

Tomorrow, everything will change.

—

You wake up to shouts ricocheting off the walls, nearly falling off the cot out of alarm if not for Melshi’s fast reflexes. The morning buzzer hasn’t rung yet, floor still electric, but the whole block is an enraged swarm, an overwhelming cacophony of cursing and bellowing. Even more worrying, Kino won’t make eye contact when you look to him for answers.

And then you see it.

Melshi’s number has increased.

There’s a loaded moment where you can’t believe what you’re seeing. You tap at the screen with trembling fingers, thinking it’s a glitch, it has to be, because if it’s not then that means—Oh, Maker, you can’t even finish the thought—but the number doesn’t change, doesn’t flicker. Your insistent taps become slaps, palms aching, and you don’t realize you’ve joined in the shouting until Melshi’s pulling you backwards with an arm around your stomach.

“It’s not just me. Everybody’s tabs have gone up. Even yours, dreamer,” Melshi says hoarsely, holding you up when your knees go numb, sobs wracking your body.

“Why?” you whimper, shaking your head. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Rue. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

Through your tears, Melshi’s eyes hold more worry than you’ve ever seen, and you can’t stand it. You want him to reassure you, to tell you there’s been a mistake and everything will be okay.

He doesn’t. Instead, even worse, his arms tighten around you and he says nothing.

Not one word.

—

Later, you’ll learn there was an attack on one of the Empire’s garrisons (a suspected rebellion strike, but you, along with at least half of Five-Two-D’s men, are still on the fence whether these so-called rebels even exist or not).

Later, you’ll learn the Empire invoked the Public Order Resentencing Directive as a result. The reason why everyone’s numbers spiked overnight without warning. The reason why slight mishaps previously disciplined with a verbal dressing down are now punished with a zaprod to the gut, spine, head—wherever the guards think will hurt the longest.

Later, Melshi will rub your back while you empty your stomach contents into the refresher, the sight of blood gushing from Ham’s busted and charred nose seared into your brain.

There’s tension in the air, every day intensifying a little more, squeezing your neck just a little bit tighter. There are nights where Melshi paces the length of the cell, fists clenched at his sides, and mornings where Ulaf can barely stand from his cot, gritting his teeth against the aches and pains of a weathered body pushed to its limits.

You were brought here to be a peacekeeper. But there’s nothing you can do to quell this amount of rage. A rage you feel simmering beneath your own skin.

There is a bomb in the heart of Narkina 5, ignored by the guards who shield themselves behind their electric floors and weapons. But what the fools fail to realize is it’s not a question of if this bomb will go off.

It’s a matter of when.

—

“We’re never getting out of here,” you whisper, pressed against the cot.

“Don’t talk like that. Not you, little dreamer,” Melshi scolds, breathing against your neck, and you fall silent, shuddering with every touch, teeth sinking into the meat of his shoulder to muffle your moans.

In the morning you’ll trace the bite mark with your fingertips, thinking that the thin line between animal and human has never looked blurrier.

—

You first notice Tress’ twitchiness during the third hour of your shift. Eyes just a bit too wide, gnawing at his lip like he’ll receive a reward if it bleeds. Panic attacks happen from time to time, but usually to newbies who haven’t adapted to the routine yet. Not to longtimers like Tress.

He gets worse with each passing hour, dropping his tools, practically vibrating with an abundance of nervous energy. You’re not the only one who’s alarmed by his strange behavior now. Melshi casts subtle glances in Tress’ direction after every finished droid piece, while Kino stares him down like he’s ready to tackle him in the next breath if Tress does something remotely dangerous.

You lose track of him when everyone lines up to return to the sleep block. No matter how much you twist and crane your neck in either direction, you can’t spot a single glimpse of his blonde curls. Melshi squeezes your hand, and to everyone else he appears indifferent, staring straight ahead while waiting for Kino to give the order to keep walking, but you see the pinch between his eyebrows immediately. He’s just as concerned as you are.

Passing him safely in his cell has you breathing a quiet sigh of relief. Still, you can’t quite bring yourself to fully relax, a sense of impending dread lingering in your bones. You don’t say much during dinner, just sit on the floor of your cell next to Melshi, half-listening to his conversation with Taga—something about a new guard on the third level nearly frying a man to death accidentally—and half-keeping an eye on Tress who looks only marginally less weasley-looking than he did earlier. Marginally.

“Sleep, little dreamer,” Melshi tells you later on in the night, pausing your tossing and turning. His eyes are closed when you look at him, but you can tell by his wrinkled brow he’s hanging onto consciousness by a mere thread. You don’t understand how he’s able to sleep. Doesn’t he feel the wrongness? Like the walls are closing in, stealing the room’s oxygen?

Your mouth opens to ask him just that, but the agonized wail that pierces the silence doesn’t belong to you.

And you know, even before you’ve slid off the cot, before you see the body lying motionless on the floor at the end of the hall, that Tress is gone.

—

The next day, a new inmate named Keef Girgo arrives.

And little do any of you know, he’s going to bring Narkina 5 to its knees.

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