#andan/rys

[lavampira]

a couple of disaster asshole agent bfs on taris

feat. andan and @consulaaris's rysandor

[consulaaris]

not to be predictable but ‘rys & love’ pls 🤲

ty dani! <333

not me trying to find a fun snippet i haven’t shared with you yet SHJSJS

rys & love

actual title: on love & lovers

so this is basically a fic that was originally in a 5+1 format but sort of. exploded. it’s got 10 longish parts now, going through the process of my imperial agent (not cipher nine) rysandor as he explores and meets “love” in a variety of forms throughout his life, and its changing meaning for him vs. how he perceives it. probably best described as “this poor man goes through the wringer but at least he gets a happy ending”.

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sadder snippets (nsfw mention in the first one):

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a happier one:

[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)

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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."

[welcometovalero]

Han hade då och då sneglat på henne under hela filmen och det hade nästan känts som att han var arton igen, en sådär lagom spänd stämning av att det här inte riktigt var ett scenario som någon av dem var vana vid men som ingen av dem heller hade något emot. Skönt på ett sätt, att bara slappa, dricka, sitta bredvid varandra och se på en film. Han hade aldrig förväntat sig att det skulle bli något mer än så – visst hade han velat, det var klart, den känslan hade inte ens försvunnit trots att de grälat och knappt pratat under hela veckan – men han hade inte tänkt sig att något skulle hända. Så när Ry i slutet av filmen sedan mötte hans läppar i en lätt puss var han nog mer förvånad än någonsin. Visst, hon hade gett honom en puss på kinden förra fredagen också, efter att de sagt hejdå utanför puben, men det här var ju något heeelt annat. Här satt hon nu, bredvid honom i soffan hemma hos honom och faktiskt kysste honom, rörde vid honom.

Logan förde upp handen till hennes ansikte medan han intensivt kysste henne tillbaka, kände hur hennes hand smekte hans lår och fick det att pirra djupt ända in i maggropen på honom.

Hennes fnitter, tillsammans med kommentaren som följde, fick honom att skratta till,

”Bra att veta att jag i alla fall inte blivit sämre.” han flinade retsamt mot henne men tvingades sedan att hastigt men exalterat dra efter andan när hon plötsligt förflyttade sig till hans famn. Hans händer smekte hennes lår och gled sedan runt hennes svank för att dra henne närmare sig, som om hon inte kunde komma tillräckligt nära. De fortsatte i samma smekande rörelse upp under hennes tröja samtidigt som han försiktigt särade på hennes läppar och lät sin tunga glida in. Herregud, han kunde bara be till gudarna att hon inte skulle sluta, att hon inte skulle släppa taget om honom och bestämma sig för att det var tillräckligt, för det var långt ifrån tillräckligt för honom.

Hans läppar lämnade hennes för att fortsätta ner längs hennes hals, följt av en lågmäld upphetsad suck från hans håll,

”Stämpelkortet…” mumlade han mot hennes nacke utan att dra sig längre bort än att han kunde fortsätta kyssa henne mellan orden, ”…det är mitt nu va?” han vände upp ansiktet mot henne igen och flinade samtidigt som hans händer gled ner till hennes rumpa igen för att åter pressa henne närmare sig själv.

[lavampira]

thinking about some disaster agent bfs <3

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

[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]

6, 27, 42 + andan?

thanks rae! 🖤

[x]

6. laughter

his typical laugh is very soft, often a huffed breath and a headshake, maybe a smirk if he’s particularly amused. his genuine laugh rocks through him - he covers his face with his hands and throws his head back, a muffled and boyish ‘ha ha’ that slips out of him.

27. sleep

sleep is rare for him - he’s a workaholic, and a single dad for a long while (even though his network of friends helping him raise mina helps take off some of that pressure), and then the commander of intelligence, so. moments to rest? few and far between. but he has been known to doze off like an old man when comfortable around his loved ones: holding his daughter while watching her kiddy holoshows, draped over his closest friends’ laps while hanging out with them, clinging to rys at night whenever he gets to see him. he’s a light sleeper, but falls asleep quickly (aside from the bad nights full of all the terrible things he’s done running through his head), and he tends to prefer lying on his side or his back.

42. loss

he tends to double down on not letting his feelings show when he’s grieving, which. in result makes it obvious that he is? at least to the people who know him best; others in intelligence might assume it’s simply the stress of the job, the commander working beneath the sith minister. and for a man who’s normally very pristine and vain about his appearance, he’s a little rougher around the edges, sharper expressions and a gaunt face with pronounced dark circles, much more somber, and just. a facade of someone trying to carry on his day to day. add the extra ‘I never told him I loved him, now I never can, and I’m not fully certain if it was real for him’ in the case of thinking rys is dead, and he is a certified mess pretending to be a functional man.

[consulaaris]

‘whispering ''i love you'' in-between kisses’ OR ‘not being able to unbutton your lover's shirt because their kisses are everywhere’ + andan/rys

ty dani!! <3 i was going to try & combine the prompts but rys said he was taking the narrative wheel from me so here we are akjgsdksg

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"not being able to unbutton your lover's shirt because their kisses are everywhere"

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Rys has, by his very nature, never been good at making smart decisions. It’s not like he doesn’t know he’s self destructive- every action an impulse, an attempt to feel something even as he knows it’s just another bad idea (and another, and another).

Which is probably why he keeps finding himself in Andan’s arms, in his bed. He can’t quite bring himself to call these rendezvouses with one of his closest friends a bad idea though. Maybe just… not a well thought out choice. He’s certainly had worse lovers. And maybe it is sort of nice to be doing this with someone who knows him better than most anyone in the galaxy, and not yet another stranger whose bedsheets he’ll have left cold by morning.

So he’s found himself here again, tangled up with the other man until he’s not sure where Andan ends and he begins. There’s something addictive about Andan’s mouth, his lips, every touch like a fire he just can’t get enough of- kiss after kiss until he’s gasping for air, pressed so tightly together that it’s almost dizzying.

Because despite himself, despite the mantra that it’s all just for fun, he likes the way Andan’s breath hitches when his lips find their way to the other man’s neck, just rough enough to leave marks that he knows will still be there the next day. Likes the way his hands roam Andan’s tanned skin, likes the way he leans into Rys’s touch like it’s magnetic and tangles his fingers in his hair while their lips meet again, and again.

Rys just isn’t sure he wants to think too hard about why.

(Not that he’s able to form much of a coherent thought anyways, with the way Andan’s looking at him from where he’s pressed against the wall, dark hair tousled and lips quirking into a familiar smirk, because all Rys wants to do is kiss him-- )

There are times where this thing between them has been slow, deliberate, luxuriating in each others’ touch. This is not one of them. It’s frenetic, all push and pull and roaming hands, pressed so tightly together it feels like they’d be unable to tear themselves away from each other even if they’d wanted to.

“Just friends” don’t kiss each other like this, and Rys knows it. “Just friends” don’t kiss each other period, but they’ve been blurring that line a little too long for that to matter anymore, if he’s being honest with himself.

Frantically, almost, his fingers find themselves fumbling to undo the buttons of Andan’s shirt, but it’s not exactly easy when the other man is practically kissing him senseless. A noise of frustration escapes him and Andan manages to pull away a moment, an amused expression flitting across his face as he catches his breath.

“If you rip the buttons off my shirt again, you’re paying for them.”

Rys raises an eyebrow, leaning up ever so slightly so that his lips almost brush Andan’s ear. “Is that a challenge?” he whispers, feeling the other man shiver instinctively, although whether at his voice or the slow, teasing movement of Rys’s tattooed hands down his chest as he continues to unbutton the probably-expensive shirt, he can’t quite tell. “I can always go slower.”

He knows, of course, exactly what sort of reaction that’s going to provoke. Warm brown eyes stare back at him, dilated, and an almost-scowl crosses the other man’s handsome face.

“Don’t you dare,” Andan says, eyes narrowing, even as he finally shrugs off the shirt, his hands immediately finding themselves on Rys’s hips again and dancing across his green skin.

Victorious, Rys smirks back at him. “I thought so,” he says smugly, hearing the beginning of a muttered insult that cuts off with a little gasp as Rys’s lips work their way down Andan’s neck again, trailing kisses across his collarbones and lower, lower.

It’s not like he even has a good excuse for how much he’s enjoying this, nor for the strange, fond weakness in his heart when Andan whispers his name like it’s something that matters.

Rys has felt so cold for so long- and really, it’s only what he deserves- but there’s something about the heat of his time with Andan that makes him feel like he’s thawing out, just a little. Not as though he has any other option, because in these little stolen moments- just for fun, just as a friend, he says, although it’s starting to feel more like a lie the more he repeats it- it’s not like he can feel anything but warm in Andan’s arms, feelings he can’t quite bear to admit burning him up from the inside out, but maybe in this moment that’s all he cares about.

[consulaaris]

for rys: when did you start to realize you were falling for one of your best friends?

[ask my ocs some questions!]

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rating: 10 (pre-defection pining stage)

answer:

he whips around. “I am not—“ his tone is furious: rys draws in a shuddering breath, and then another. “I’m not. I can’t be. I won’t be.”

the mirialan’s shoulders then slump defeatedly, but his teeth are bared; he looks a bit like an animal backed into a cage. “but… there was a moment. a lot of moments.” a laugh escapes him, but it sounds forced. “the first time I’d slept the whole night in his bed, how safe I’d felt— when staying at his place started to feel more like home than mine ever did. seeing his softer side with mina; with me sometimes. leaning up against him on the couch or at the bar and realizing maybe that was something I wanted to be able to do more often. it wasn’t… even one big thing. just a bunch of little tiny things that slowly added up and I knew, I knew it but I couldn’t pull away because I’m stupid and selfish and I only know how to hurt the things I care about.” he rakes a tattooed hand through his hair, every word sounding as though it had to be dragged out of him by force and a distressed expression flitting briefly across his face.

“but I’m not falling in love with him,” he whispers again, although this time it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself than anything else.

[consulaaris]

2, 5, or 28 + rys/andan :o)

ty dani!! these guys have been living in my head rent free lately <3 i ended kinda combining two of the prompts here!

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5- feeling their pulse

28- feeling for each other in the dark

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He is drowning in blood.

The tang of it fills his nose, his throat, his lungs; he can’t breathe, can hardly think nor feel anything but the knife that weighs heavy in his hand.

(Rys has had this dream before, and he knows all too well how it ends.)

Nothing he does will change what happens, but Rys can’t escape the sinking pit in his stomach as he looks at the bloody knife clenched tight, buried deep in someone else's chest. Can’t stop as his gaze moves upward- slowly, inevitably- until he sees in painful detail the visage of the person he’s doomed with a fatal blow.

Only instead of Leodi’s accusing face, it’s his own.

With a muffled cry the Mirialan jerks awake, looking around wildly though he can’t see anything in the dark. His breathing is heavy, erratic, and he’s too tangled up in the remnants of the dream to calm himself for the moment. Awareness comes to him in fragmented pieces; the small room, the familiar sheets across his legs, the concerned hand that fumbles to touch his face.

“Rys?” comes the whisper, and though it’s hoarse with sleep he can sense the worry in the other man’s voice.

He can’t reply, doesn’t have the strength or energy to put into words, but he fumbles for Andan in the dark, reaching out to hold him like maybe he can hide in his lover’s arms from the things he’s done. And when Rys touches Andan, he finds comfort; a little piece of solace amidst the raging tempest of his mind. Andan's arms wrap around him in turn, his hands gentle yet firm as he draws him close. He’s shaking, Rys realizes with muted surprise, as if observing it from the outside, and if Andan’s grip tightening around him is any indication the other man has noticed it too. (It still frightens him a little bit, this kind of vulnerability; but even half delirious he trusts Andan implicitly.)

Rys’s hands roam across Andan as a physical reassurance he’s not still trapped in the dream, taking a moment to slow his breathing before he’s coherent enough to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

HIs voice cracks, but it’s all he can muster. There’s so much more packed into those little words that’s left unsaid, and though it chokes up in his throat Rys hopes- knows, in his heart of hearts- that Andan understands.

“Don’t apologize,” comes the reply, whispered fiercely. His throat tightens, accompanying a deep ache that rests itself in his chest; finds himself trying to ignore the little voice whispering in his head that he doesn’t deserve this kind of forgiveness or acceptance.

I’m a fucking mess, Rys wants to say as he pulls Andan closer, burying his face in the crook of his lover’s neck. He can feel Andan’s hand coming to rest above his heart, a silent reassurance for himself that it’s still beating; that this is real. That he’s here, and that even though Rys still feels like more of a fragmented mess than a person, he’s alive. He’s not an easy person to love- a fact he’s painfully aware of- but he appreciates Andan’s presence and affection more than he can ever properly express. His own hand finds its way above the other man’s, holding it tight like it’s a lifeline.

“I love you,” he says instead. Quietly; desperately. Says it like a prayer, like it’s his salvation. And maybe it is.

Andan holds him tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you too.” His voice trembles ever-so-slightly and Rys is unable to reply, barely able to think past the knot of emotions that winds itself up in his chest. But he gently brushes his lips across Andan’s neck, his shoulder, and hopes he’s expressing himself in a way he can understand.

Rys won’t sleep now, he knows. But in the morning he’ll still cling to Andan and the warmth he offers, grumbling at the other man trying to extricate himself to make them breakfast, and- though they never quite leave- with the casual normalcy and affection between them, the night and the horrors of his mind will seem that much farther away.

Maybe even if he’s not okay he is loved, and maybe that’s enough for now.

[consulaaris]

🌹 !!

ty dani!!! 🤍

here’s a bit of a rys/andan piece i’ve been working on when the inspo strikes <3

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And it’s not love, it’s not. (But oh yes it is, the little voice in the back of his head whispers.) And though the ache of the longing in his chest makes his attempts to deny it futile, Rys can hardly bear to face a truth that feels like it’s going to burn him up from the inside out every time he sees Andan’s face, hears the other man’s laughter. Because he knows all too well how this ends- how it always will.

Happiness isn’t meant for people like him.

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[send me a 🌹 and i’ll post a snippet of one of my WIPs!]

[consulaaris]

not to be predictable but: ♫ + rys; mayhaps also ♫ + rys/andan 🥺🖤

ahhh ty dani!! 🥺🤍

(oc music asks!)

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RYS

grave digger- blues saraceno - i sort of feel like this song very much vibes with rys’s sort of fatalistic outlook on his life prior to defecting, and really thinking that he’s going to die an early death at the hands of the empire/that it’ll be deserved because of the things he’s done- but also that sort of unspoken hope that maybe things could be different. (off the top of my head, other songs i associate with him are the wolf - phildel and shoot your gun - 22-20s)

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RYS/ANDAN

storm song- phildel - a lot of phildel’s music seems to resonate with rys i feel? but this song in particular seems to encapsulate the bittersweet vibe when rys & andan are together but still have to spend most of their time apart, but at least on rys’s end considering andan & mina to be “home” and i have some feelings™ about it

(alternatively, i could also see do i wanna know- arctic monkeys and shadow preachers- zella day for them. i need to start a playlist omg)

[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

[consulaaris]

3, 15, 16 + rys 🖤

ty dani!! 🤍

[oc ask meme]

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3. ask them to describe their love interest.

rys starts, as though surprised by the question. “he…” he pauses, shaking his head slightly as an uncharacteristically soft expression flits across his tattooed face. “andan knows me better than anyone else in the galaxy, i think. he’s funny. fiercely affectionate. a wonderful father.” rys’s lips quirk into a rueful smile. “he’s not afraid to call me out when i deserve it, either. i’d be a lot worse for the wear without him. andan is… he feels like home.” the last part comes out quieter, like something’s caught in his throat. and though he frowns then, shaking his head as his face returns to its usual guarded state, some of the wistful fondness is still visible beneath.

[would he be this open with most people about his relationship with andan in canon? likely not but i just think they deserve a little softness. as a treat.]

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15. what would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

hmmm… most artistic hobbies, i think? not for other people though, he doesn’t think they’re a waste of time in general! he loves art and music, and i think he’d actually be a very good artist if he practiced beyond leaving little drawings on notes for his friends. but for himself… he sort of feels that it’d be silly for him to focus on, and feels awkward about pursuing hobbies that aren’t going to aid him in his work as a field agent, however much he might personally enjoy it. tl;dr he struggles to let himself enjoy stuff and that sort of feels like a pointless luxury.

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16. if money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?

i think he’d dress largely in the same style, but probably more brand-name and probably with a couple of really expensive watches! rys has never had a huge closet and i think having a giant one would be a little daunting to him- not that he’d admit it- but he’d definitely be buying more clothes than he currently owns, so that he can have lots of options. as a general rule he’s the type of person who likes to buy things that’ll last for years, and i don’t think that’d change even if he had the money to buy more expensive things! he probably would invest in some expensive/durable earrings too though, and maybe some fancy boots.

[lavampira]

escape, sing, touch + andan?

ty rae!! 🖤

[a-z headcanon questions]

escape: what do they do to destress? how successful is it?

his method of dealing with stress is simply not acknowledging that he is stressed because he thinks he can actually handle everything. he’d rather distract himself - going out with friends to blow off steam, hook ups, throwing himself into work, anything but whatever is on his mind. which, of course, makes him more stressed, and it takes massive effort and convincing from someone close to him to get him to actually relax.

sing: do they like music? do they listen often or sing/hum/play songs in their head?

he’ll casually listen to music and enjoys it, but he doesn’t play anything himself. he has been known to get songs from mina’s kiddy holoshows stuck in his head and hum them while he’s working, too.

touch: how do they handle contact? is their personal bubble big?

he’s not too physically open with others unless he really trusts them, mostly a byproduct of how he was raised and how he was trained. he tries to be extra huggy and cuddly with mina to give her the parental affection that he never had. with his close friends, he’ll also hug them often or like drape his arms around their shoulders and lean on them while out at a club or something, and even more so subconsciously with rys as he starts catching feelings, or purposefully when they’re in a relationship because he’s glad to finally openly have that with him and relieved that he’s there after what happened.

[visionmarred-archive]

11, 23, 41 + izian 🖤

ty Dani!! 🖤

11. Best Friend

his closest friends are Nesren, Andan, Rys, and Marley :') Izian likes to think that he's mature and above nonsense (which he is, for the most part), but the former three just bring out his inner chaos like nobody else can. lol. he loves them sincerely though, and wouldn't trade them for anything. Marley isn't a chaos friend like those three are, but she is his drinking buddy and one of the few people that Izian can relate to regarding familial issues. their stories with Isando and Athamew aren't the same, but similar enough that they know where the other is coming from.

23. Romance

Izian is with Branavio for a while, during the Ilum arc. they'd been friends for a while by that point, they were interested in each other, they decided to give it a try. they did genuinely love each other quite a bit, but they both recognized that it wasn't compatible in the long term, so they broke up. about a year-ish later is when Izian and Nesren become a thing; slowburn friends to lovers realizing they see each other in a new light, lol. Nesren makes Izian laugh, makes sure he doesn't overwork himself, and in turn, Izian makes sure Nesren stays safe and cared for when he goes underground. they're happy together.

41. Memory

one of his worst memories (yes, I'm going w angst here) is the discovery of Isando's force sensitivity. like Iaze before him, Isando was ratted out to the authorities by their own father, and there wasn't much to be done in his defense to keep him on Csilla. the twins knew it was their dad who ratted him out just as he had ratted out Iaze when she was seven and the twins were nine, and it was the last time Izian would see Isando until he received an official transfer to the Empire. informing the authorities of their father's force sensitivity in turn seemed only fair to Izian, and he did it, but he has a lot of mixed feelings about it to this day.