#andan vicari

[lavampira]

[autisticlaezel]

30 or 49 + marley and andan

This is a mess but I wanted to write them today, so a mess it shall be

-

There's something to be said about these moments.

They're in their apartment–well, his, Marloveigh supposes; she doesn't technically live here. She still has her own penthouse not too far away, but most of her stuff is here. Most of her life is here, with what's become her family in a frighteningly short amount of time, all things considered. Marloveigh had never fancied herself a family woman. She's too driven–too career-focused and unemotional for any of this to come naturally to her. And yet here she is, living with her closest friend, helping him raise a child, and she's the happiest she's been in her life.

Strange, how these things work out sometimes.

She's reading through a mission report from one of Moff Drasko's scouts. (She truly had taken the attention to detail displayed by her colleagues in Intelligence for granted, but at least she has a job, in spite of the Dark Council's impulse decision to dissolve the agency entirely). He's making caff, absently humming to himself–one of Mina's favorite lullabies.

It's not long before he joins her on the couch, not even bothering to try to look put together after weeks without getting a full night's sleep. She'd express sympathy, except she's in the same boat; her usually pristine and meticulously planned outfits have been abandoned in favor of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts.

"I brought you a mug," he offers her a smile–small but genuine. "Thought you might need it. She's fussy today."

"Thank you," she moves closer to him subconsciously, a habit developed from the need to offer comfort. A silent apology for what she's about to tell him, "I know you asked me not to try to track down Seline."

"Marley–"

"And I promise you that I didn't. I wouldn't, but one of the Moff's agents spotted someone matching her description while out scouting–well, while out scouting. I shan't tell you her location if you don't want to know," she sighs and shakes her head, "but l didn't want to keep it a secret."

"Thank you," his voice is quieter than before and she almost regrets telling him, except keeping it from him would be worse. They don't keep secrets from each other. Never have.

"Do you," she pauses, trying to figure out how to word her next question without offending, "do you ever regret it? Not Mina, never Mina, but her."

He sighs and shakes his head, "Do I regret it? I don't know. I'm not sure it matters, but I think I would do it again regardless."

"I suppose the end results were worth the obstacles," she wraps her arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer, "she's a good kid."

"She's perfect," he agrees, closing his eyes. "Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Ever regret putting your life on hold to help me sort out this–mess?"

"Do I regret it? Yes," she snorts, clearly joking, a feeble attempt to lighten the mood. Her voice is much more serious when speaks again.

"Would I do it again? Probably. Definitely. You're my family, Andan, you know that, right? The only thing I truly regret is that I wasn't here earlier."

"Marley–"

"Anyway, you need a shower and a nap. Don't argue. I'll take care of Mina when she wakes up," she leaves no room for argument in her voice, and he doesn't try to contradict her when he reluctantly detangles himself from her and leaves behind his caff.

Yes, there's something to be said about these moments. About the strange and overwhelming bursts of love she feels for this man who shares half her soul. About the happiness she never thought she'd find in the mundane. About the peace that people like them aren't supposed to have–aren't supposed to even want.

About the quiet rebellion of putting something before her duty for the first time in her life, and not being able to find the will to regret it.

[visionmarred-archive]

2, 7, or 72 + calculated chaos squad

thank you Dani! :D I hope I got the boys right sdkgkdg. @consulaaris bc it's her boy too <3

7. “We’re friends. We’re friends, right?” (from this prompt list)

---

The radio silence really is to be expected, Izian concludes, given the circumstances surrounding his friend, but expectation doesn't diminish his concern for Andan. Nor, he found, did it diminish Rysandor's. The two men had arrived at Andan's apartment complex at roughly the same time, having made plans to meet there after a short series of messages inquiring if either had heard from their friend, and confirming that neither had. They stood outside the door, waiting for some sort of answer after knocking a moment before.

"You look like hell," Rysandor said in lieu of a more traditional greeting when Andan opens the door. Izian would have chosen something perhaps a bit more tact, but he can't disagree with the sentiment when he takes in Andan's appearance. His friend, normally so immaculate and well-dressed, was the picture of exhaustion; face unshaved, clothes that had clearly been slept in, shadows under his eyes. (Not that the latter wasn't common for an Intelligence agent, he supposes. Such was the nature of their work.) Even more telling of Andan's exhaustion is his lack of a response to Rysandor's quip, and Izian clears his throat before speaking, tone gentle. "May we come in?" He can hear a shrill cry from the apartment, and he sees the way Andan reflexively flinches at the sound. "Suit yourselves," he finally replied, taking a step back to allow Izian and Rysandor entry into the apartment. The source of the cries was apparent when they stepped inside, and Izian stepped over to the dining table, setting down the bag he'd brought with him and digging through to empty it of its relevant contents. "Mina?" "Trying to get her to take a nap. She hasn't slept... a few hours. I don't know. She's fussy." Andan sighed, turning his attention to what Izian was doing. "These?" "I was unsure what you already had and what you were lacking. So I thought that I would cover all my bases, as it were. Formula, diapers, a blanket. Other items for her care." Izian answered, lifting a wrapped container and setting it down. "And something to eat, as well. I was unsure what you have in your fridge." The casserole was a dish that his mother had taught him on Csilla, before he began his training for a life in espionage. Izian didn't have much time for cooking these days, but it seemed as appropriate a time as any to use his neglected cookware. "Brought this for her, too," Rysandor said, setting the stuffed animal down on the table, and Izian can't resist a slight smile of his own when he sees the semblance of a positive emotion on Andan's face - the first he'd seen in a while. "We thought we'd come lend you a hand for the night, Vicari. If you can put up with us." "You two don't have to, you know," Andan said quietly, "but... thank you." "Of course we do. We're friends. We're friends, right?" Izian said, tone gentle, smile on his face. It was less of a question and more of a reminder. One that Andan had needed, judging from the way a smile of his own crept on his face. "Right." "We can handle Mina if you'd like to get some rest, Andan." "Or a shower," Rysandor said. "You really DO look like hell, you know." Andan barked out a laugh, a mixture of offense and amusement evident, and Izian couldn’t resist a slight chuckle of his own. It was good to see. "I'd like to see you do better."

[autisticlaezel]

24, 48, or 52 + marley & andan

I hope I did your boy justice :D

-

"What if I moved in?" she asks without taking her eyes off of her reflection, applying her mascara with the same precision as she does everything else in life.

"You already live here," Andan replies distractedly, adjusting his shirt collar.

"What if I moved in permanently," she clarifies, finally turning to look at him. "That's a good color on you. You're going to wear it with the burgundy blazer, right?"

"I was thinking the mahogany one, actually," he grabs both blazers off the rack and compares them with a slight frown, "and I thought you already had. You've lived here for over a year, Marley."

"I still have my own apartment. Most of my clothes are there, not that rent is a problem but–" she scrutinizes the two blazers with him, "you're right as usual. The mahogany one is better."

"I suppose I'll have to make room in our closet, then. The things you do for friendship," he holds a hand over his heart after carefully putting the burgundy blazer back on the rack, and she can't stop herself from letting out an undignified snort.

"Your sacrifice shall be remembered," she replies solemnly, knowing full well that he's already made room in his frankly massive closet for her stuff ages ago.

"It better be. I truly do not know what I'll do without the empty shelves built specifically to display your shoes," he inspects his chosen blazer for creases before seemingly finding it satisfactory and putting it on.

"Sometimes," she pauses to apply her lipstick–mahogany, they always match–before continuing, "I think… no, I know that you're the only one who gets me, Andan."

She's not talking about shoes or closet space anymore, and she can tell that he knows by the way his face softens ever so slightly.

It's unlike her to let herself express such vulnerable things, but Andan Vicari is one of the few people she's comfortable taking off her emotional armor around.

He's the one person she can always count on to have her back. The one person she'd give up everything for if required. Her best friend. Her family.

The other half of her soul.

It's ridiculous, really, to make such declarations in their closet before a dinner party, but somehow, the moment had felt right.

"You too," he smiles and loosely wraps an arm around her, careful not to mess up either of their outfits. "I really am happy that you're here, Marley."

They finish getting ready in companionable silence until Izian, who's been assigned babysitting duty for the evening, arrives.

Marloveigh cannot help but think about how lucky she is as she watches her best friend repeating the same instructions over and over again, clearly nervous to leave his daughter behind for even a few hours.

[autisticlaezel]

Prepare for for trouble! Make it double

Marley and @lavampira‘s Andan took a detour to the Brentaal Star on their way to Dromund Kaas, which ended about as well as you’d expect when two evil spies are given semi free reign

Never thought one of my ocs would be part of evil Imperial space team rocket, but here we are

[lavampira]

Thief meets spy? 👀

ask me about a wip

this one started out as dabbling in the backstory of how one of my poor little meow meows SW spy ocs became a single father before his eventual tenure as second-in-charge of the intelligence agency but it's spiraled into a whole thing about the dynamic of his 'relationship' with a thief from the time they'd crossed paths on a mission :o)

[under a cut for descriptive violence]

[lavampira]

wip friday??? ig

I had a little scene between the vicari siblings stuck in my head so here we are :o)

-

“Are we ever going to talk about it?” Ana Maite asks, a frown at his detachment in the attempted conversation obvious in her tone. “Andan.”

He sighs, rising enough to see her over the speederbike. “What?”

She nods at the infant still being gently bounced in her lap. “Mina. If she turns out to be Sith.”

The words ring hollow in his ears, forcing his entire body to tense, enough that the knuckles of his hand still holding the oily rag and spanner have gone pale with their grip. Dread takes hold of him and sinks into his chest like a horrible weight. Andan is distantly aware of his sister staring at him in that peculiar way that she does, trying to get a read on him. He knows that he needs to be careful with what he says—no matter how far they’ve come since Ilum, even if Ana Maite is his sister, she’s still a Sith herself. And he is just an Imperial, the pariah of a once prominent Sith line.

Andan sets the spanner on the nearby bench, using the rag on his hands as an excuse not to face her. “Then I’ll do what I have to do.”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t ask me things you’re not going to want to know, Ana,” he returns, meeting her gaze again. It’s a big risk admitting even that much to a Sith, he knows. Especially one as cunning as her. Drawing a shallow breath, he adds, “I’m not going to put expectations about it on my daughter. If it happens, then I’ll deal with it.”

Ana Maite simply nods. Something in the way her brow pinches makes him think that his underlying ‘she deserves better than the hand I was dealt from our father’ is heard. Perhaps even understood, judging by her brief silence.

But as he reaches again for the spanner, he hears her say, almost comically quiet as if someone might overhear her in the privacy of his garage, “Whatever happens, whatever you want for her, you have my word that I’ll help you. Both of you.”

[lavampira]

a couple of disaster asshole agent bfs on taris

feat. andan and @consulaaris's rysandor

[lavampira]

thinking about some disaster agent bfs <3

[rys belongs to @consulaaris + andan belongs to me]

[lavampira]

pretty sure I’ve already mentioned before that andan’s nickname for mina is ‘mimi’ but I’ve also figured out that mina refers to andan as ‘apá’ rather than papá or dad or whatever else

[lavampira]

andan has the covert stalker now thanks to the mounts sale on the CM and I’m thrilled at how much it actually looks and sounds like what I’d imagine for a space motorcycle

[lavampira]

something clicked for me about ana maite and her background that explains some of her behaviors/habits and I’ve been feeling things about it

the idea is that the vicaris are a very old and powerful but failing sith line, making them desperate and ambitious, willing to do whatever it takes to not only maintain but achieve greater notoriety and power. their first born child is force blind; he’s arranged to get into a prestigious imperial military academy and be wed to a moff’s daughter to broker an alliance into their powerbase, only he refuses to follow their plan and joins imperial intelligence, cuts off contact from them, and likely only gets away with it because they still had their budding sith prodigy in their second child.

ana maite gets the brunt of their hunger for prestige and power and doubled down when her older brother leaves, training her from birth to be a living weapon and finding her the best tutors in their powerbase, strict about all of the facets of her upbringing; she’s not strong with the force in the sense of wielding it, but she can harness it to make herself into a faster, sharper, deadlier weapon. but it’s also that sheltered training that makes her a little inept in her interpersonal skills, which explains why she tends to make such dramatic and grand gestures, why she tears herself apart trying to live up to expectations, why she’s desperately seeking approval while resenting the thought of being used by anyone as a weapon, why she’s confused when anyone doesn’t want to use her.

and it’s unfortunately when her homeworld is devoured by yet another person who used her as a weapon and sought to control her that she realizes what a mistake it’s been, but after the outlander is frozen in carbonite, she starts to build up the founding network of what will eventually be the alliance through her own allies and contacts that she’s made over the years, and it’s finally a cause of her own choice.

(despite all of this, I’ve also been considering the massive death flags that she’s given me and how much narrative sense it actually makes at the end of kotfet: the wrath, a symbol of vitiate’s empire and personal executioner blinking out along with him; the founder of the alliance fading with the cause that she believed in as it begins to merge into the republic, no longer needed as a power on its own anymore. but it also hurts me so not a single detail has been settled there).

[lavampira]

(i’m sorry andan ily i promise </3) but! for andan: what was going through your head when you thought rys had died? and/or when he contacted you again?

[ask my ocs some invasive questions]

rating: 10 (depictions of grief cw)

andan freezes, his entire posture locking up as if willing himself with every fiber of his being to remain still, and his normally so carefully guarded face betrays him, a flash of visceral agony flitting across his brown eyes. he swallows hard around a lump in his throat, brushing a tan hand through his dark hair. “you know that saying about one’s life flashing before their eyes?”

he turns away for a beat, his jaw tense as he grits his teeth. an onslaught of memories rise back to the surface faster than he can stifle them back down again—thundering rain on the expansive windows of his kaas penthouse, a chilling public broadcast that made his stomach roil worse the longer it replayed in his mind, how cold he felt even with the arms of one of his closest friends wrapped around him so tight as he shattered in her grasp, pointless confessions of ‘I loved him’ to no one in particular that sounded disconnected and hoarse to his own ears.

“that’s what was stuck on a loop in my head,” andan grinds out, folding his arms across his chest in a feint at seeming relaxed, though it appears more like a desperate attempt to hold himself together than anything else. “just… moments. glimpses of nights spent with him at the bar, mornings with him still in my apartment. the sight of him playing with my daughter. his laughter in my ears, his touch on my skin. how stupidly sweet he drank his caf. everything I’d never said to him, how he’d never know how I felt, and that some part of me had died with him.”

[lavampira]

andan vicari ✧ ziost

“More of you already? I suppose I should be flattered.”

[lavampira]

items in their pockets + andan?

ty rae!!

[character headcanons]

some items that can often be found in andan's pockets: holocomm; wallet or whatever people use to carry their credit cards and ID in the gffa; tin of mints; a few data spikes; elastic hair tie in case mina, rys, or marley ever need one; a spare knife or two (not including the ones hidden in his boots and other places on his person); and packets of hand towelettes

[lavampira]

the terrible stabby dad finally got his title 🖤