#andor negativity

[andorerso]

"I don't understand the Maarva hate" the woman literally kidnapped a child. a white woman literally kidnapped an indigenous-coded child. for a fandom who likes to talk about the ~nuances~ and ~small details~ of the show, some of you are sure fucking blind to the colonialism and white savior parallels here.

[antianakin]

My main problem with the idea of either non-Force sensitive people becoming Jedi or the whole "everyone is actually Force sensitive if you try hard enough" thing isn't that Force sensitivity is what makes the Jedi interesting, it's that this is what makes them JEDI.

There are TONS of characters in Star Wars who, if they were Force sensitive, would make excellent Jedi and I love quite a few of them. Just for a few quick examples off the top of my head: Bail and Breha Organa, Beru and Owen Lars, and Hera Syndulla (the Rebels version, not the Ahsoka show version). Sabine Wren, by the end of Rebels, would count on this list, as well (but not the Ahsoka show version). Jyn Erso and Bodhi Rook, especially by the end of Rogue One (Baze and Chirrut obviously would fit on this list, too, but they are already a part of their own religion that they might have chosen regardless of whether they were Force sensitive or not and I am choosing to respect that). Bix Calleen and Brasso from Andor. Greez from the Cal Kestis games maybe. And there's probably more that I am missing.

But the point I am making here is that none of these characters (bar Sabine in the Ahsoka show) are ever assumed to be Jedi. I don't think a SINGLE fan would ever try to argue with me that they ARE Jedi. And obviously it does not make any of them less interesting or enjoyable as characters to not be Jedi.

So if you're going to come at me with the accusation "How boring do you have to be to think the only reason the Jedi are interesting is because they're Force sensitive" then my rebuttal is this: Do you think all of the non-Jedi characters in Star Wars AREN'T interesting because they don't bear the title of Jedi? Does Sabine Wren suddenly become MORE interesting of a character when she's (theoretically) the exact same character, but now she gets to call herself a Jedi? Would Bodhi Rook or Brasso suddenly be more interesting characters if they called themselves Jedi but nothing else about them changed?

How boring do YOU have to be to think that the only interesting characters in Star Wars are those who call themselves Jedi? Personally, I really love that there are all of these characters out there with a bunch of different narrative paths open to them specifically because they AREN'T Jedi. Cassian Andor, Luthen Rael, Saw Gerrera, and Mon Mothma get to be REALLY intricate and morally ambiguous characters specifically because they are not Jedi at all. All the characters I listed above get to be these really lovely heroes for the little guy that showcase that you don't need to have cosmic powers and a laser sword and a fancy title to make a difference. There's a whole sort-of underlying side story within some of these stories about how the galaxy relied on the Jedi to solve all of their problems and how they're forced to step up and defend themselves for once after the Jedi are destroyed, leading to the introduction of all of these non-Force sensitive heroes, some more grey than others.

The Jedi are beacons of hope within the narrative, a model of selfless compassion to constantly strive towards. They are characters who consistently become their best selves through hard work and dedication. This is one of the MANY reasons I love them so much.

But I ALSO love that there are characters who AREN'T Jedi, characters who have no additional cosmic powers or knowledge, and have to figure out how to make the right choice instead of the easy choice ANYWAY, even when it's hard, even when it requires sacrifice. I love stories about the little people in the galaxy learning how to step up and emulate the Jedi when the Jedi are no longer there to be a bulwark between them and their own darkness. The beautiful tragedy of this entire side story lies in the galaxy learning the lessons the Jedi were trying so hard to teach them only after the Jedi themselves are gone due to the galaxy's selfishness. This is the bed the galaxy made for itself and now they have to lie in it. But they do! Eventually, person by person, they do.

And eventually, after many many years, just like their selfishness bore consequences, their selfless efforts also ultimately bring rewards in the form of the Jedi returning. And it's only once the Jedi and the people of the galaxy start fighting TOGETHER, the way they were always supposed to, that they're able to defeat the darkness. THAT'S the story. The Jedi and the people of the galaxy are in a symbiotic relationship with each other, a theme that doesn't work if you go for the concepts where everyone gets to be a Jedi. The Jedi are a specific group of people, they are the Force made manifest, they are beacons of hope, they are an ideal to work towards. This doesn't work with the "Jedi can also be people without Force sensitivity" or "everyone has Force sensitivity" concepts. It just doesn't.

So of course there are plenty of characters who aren't Force sensitive who follow Jedi philosophies or act in a way the Jedi would approve of. These people are the ones choosing to be in balance with the Jedi, which in turn is what brings balance to the entire galaxy.

If this interpretation of Star Wars and the Jedi comes off as boring to you, then, well, that sounds like a you problem and you're more than welcome to find a different corner of fandom to go spend time in and leave me to my corner.

[tremendouskoalachild]

i acknowledge the unreasonably long wait probably has something to do with it but i thought that trailer was extremely underwhelming. dare i say straight up bad

[ct-hardcase]

I fully acknowledge that I’m overly sensitive about this but I wonder if the general minimization of many of Andor’s female characters in the trailer is to pander to the reactionaries who threw a shitfit at the Acolyte for daring to center Osha and Mae

[sun-dari]

i have finished watching andor and it's really good, it's well written, had things to say and made me cry a couple of times

is it a perfect show? not really. it's not free of some dumb nonsense and tonal dissonance. like, when the show cuts from a somber scene to a couple of morons exchanging hats i'm not thinking about what it's trying to say about police and military worship, i'm thinking that the show just undercut its own emotional impact

is it the best star wars property, as i've seen it being referred to? hard to say, at least in part because it's very different, as much down to earth as any star wars could be. i also love that it doesn't have any cameos of any of the big name characters whatsoever (the antiques guy turned out to be original character, to my surprise), despite having many opportunities to include them. thought, as any star wars, the show created an extremely endearing robot character, no notes

my thoughts overall: i loved it, will be waiting for the second season

[luminescentturtle]

lmao do you guys remember when star wars was good

[jewishcissiekj]

I still think that Andor is the straightest show for the sole fact that it has too many straight couples (even though it’s not focused on the romance) and Velcinta has not much screen time. Hopefully they will change it on season 2

good point and I do hope we get much more velcinta in s2 but also I liked the way the romance in Andor was done as opposed to hating almost everything in those Acolyte scenes lol. also it's been a while since I watched Andor and The Acolyte ep 6 was very aggressive with the heterosexuality so that biased my opinion

[across-stars]

can't exactly put my finger on why the Ahsoka finale felt so different to me compared to the Andor finale, even though they both set up the character's places in the story while leaving things fairly open...

the Andor finale transformed a show that had been a bit of an emotional rollarcoaster for me into my favorite show ...and I mean genuinly an emotional rollercoaster, my opinion of the show changed every few episodes, especially the prison arc made me rather anxious and I had to force and drag myself through watching it, but precisely because the show engaged frankly with what the characters are experiencing it resonated emotionally with me and touched complicated feelings

but the Ahsoka finale has left me largely dissatisfied, and to put it succintly, cemented for me the feeling that in the end the series is less than the sum of its parts ...it seemed to hint at much more depth when it comes to the characters and their dynamics, but ultimately seemed to shy away from really exploring them, with the notable exception being ''the fallen warrior'' episode, which made the difference only more jarring

in all fairness, there was a fair bit of hinting in Andor as well, but it was done in a way that made me believe there was actually something there, like cues that can be extrapolated from to make more sense of the characters when you just look closer, while the Ahsoka show makes me feel naive for imagening there is more to the characters than what is shown directly on screen

[potatoesandsunshine]

“this show was made for the biggest star wars nerds—” oh it’s so over. it has never been more over

[superfan44]

Don't Be Quick to Judge the Acolyte (A Star Wars Opinion Piece)

I have always loved Star Wars. Ever since being introduced to the original trilogy as a kid, I have been a massive fan of this legendary sci-fi franchise. From one of my all-time favorites The Clone Wars, to the more recent shows like The Mandalorian, I always get a sense of joy and excitement whenever a new piece of Star Wars media is introduced or announced. Of all the related projects set to come out this year, the one that has intrigued me the most, is the live-action series "The Acolyte". First announced back in 2020, all of the details that I have heard regarding this series I find fascinating. A mystery thriller set during the High Republic Era, with an emphasis on showing the perspective of the Sith and drawing influence from martial arts movies. Some of these details are the things that really drew me towards it. Aside from its main space opera trappings, Star Wars has been known to explore various sub genres, especially in some of their most recent projects. These details alone have me both excited and curious to see what this series will bring to the table.

However, while I wait in anticipation, I noticed that not everyone seems to share the same feelings as me. On the internet, there has been plenty of negative discourse towards the series, mostly towards a few of the casting choices and the creatives involved in the series. It honestly still kind of baffles me as to why people are so quick to be so judgmental on a series that isn't even out yet. I guess what I'm trying to say is that maybe we shouldn't be so quick to judge this series.

As someone who has seen a lot of movies and TV shows, I always like to approach everything with an open mind. I don't judge something based on what I want it to be, rather I just take it for what it is, regardless of how it ends up turning out. The same can certainly be said for Star Wars. I've been aware of the discourse surrounding the controversial sequel trilogy. Though I didn't outright hate them like some people did. When I saw each one in the theater, I just took them as they came, paying no mind to the nitpicks or flaws unless some people point them out afterwards.

When it comes to a massive IP such as this one, you're bound to have some people who will dislike or disagree with some of the narrative choices you make. Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but that doesn't mean that we should say hateful things just for kicks, nor should we let some people influence how you feel about something. I've heard some people say that there is a fine difference between "good" and "fun". I don't want to name names here, but I will say that even if some parts of Star Wars aren't perfect, it can still be fun to watch. Sometimes there are even parts of Star Wars that are both good and fun, the original trilogy being an obvious example.

Look, if I'm being honest, I don't like trash-talking Star Wars because, at the end of the day, it does still mean a lot to me. Plus, to their credit, some of the newer stuff under Disney have had some hits here and there. The best example I can bring up is Andor, the prequel/spin-off to Rogue One. I remember when it was first announced, people weren't really as enthused about it, some even saying things like "nobody asked for this!". Then, the trailers dropped, and it began to draw people towards it. When the series officially dropped, it turned out to be a big hit with both critics and audiences.

With all that being said, I believe that the same thing might happen with The Acolyte. I have a feeling that the show might surprise us when it drops and turn out to be a hit. Of course, we don't know for sure, but until then, I say we should at least give this one a chance. Let's not be so quick to judge it.

[andorerso]

The thing is, Cassian is Cassian in Andor and Rogue One, they’re not different characters. If people don’t like him in his show they simply don’t like him at all. There’s not how time progression works, the man from Andor will become the man from Rogue One and everything we see in the show is used to build his character and give substance to his actions in the movie. If they are “angry” at Cassian because of who he is, they just don’t like him.

I don't know if I agree in this instance. Rogue One came first. Yes, Andor is a prequel, but that doesn't change the fact that we already knew and loved Cassian from Rogue One. Then Andor came and changed core traits of him, and I'm not just talking about the backstory. It feels like Cassian but not *quite*, like a funhouse mirror version of him. We've had 5 years with RO Cassian, and just because it's a prequel that doesn't automatically make it good. You say it's a progression, except that a lot of us feel it doesn't quite add up to who he becomes at the end. You're allowed to like Cassian from RO and be upset and feel that they messed up his backstory.

[e-the-village-cryptid]

Stop putting Bixcassian negativity in the Andor tag, this is so tiring to see. If you don’t like their relationship and want to talk shit about it all the time DON’T TAG THE SHOW OR BIX we have enough hate from the rest of the fandom. There’s no reason to hate them and it’s not “problematic” or anything, just keep these takes away from the Bix and Andor tag

I have put exactly 2 posts in the bix tag in which I even mentioned cassian, and only 1 that expressed a negative opinion about their relationship— and even that one was mainly about not wanting to see their relationship used as a way to "fix" bix, but rather wanting to see her recover through community and her own strength. (The other was about being disappointed with the writers abandoning Bix's character in the last 3 1/2 episodes and removing all her strength and agency so Cassian can finally come and save her— if you interpreted a post about bad damsel in distress stereotypes and sexism in the writing as negativity about their relationship, I really don't know what to tell you.) I agree that putting these posts in something like the bixcassian tag would be incredibly rude, but I didn't do that. I am allowed to tag a show and character to talk about how much I love that character and how I'd like to see her arc develop. Saying "you can't tag a show with opinions about the show that I don't like" and "you can't tag a character if you don't ship her with the same person I do" is incredibly entitled. Those tags are for all of us who are fans of Andor and Bix to share. If you want to see pure bixcassian positivity, you can go to the tags for that ship.

[heart-0f-a-rebel16]

what’s a polite way of saying that discourse (an utterly meaningless word) around saw gererra annoys you greatly because no one is ever gonna get the nuance they want out of his character because his primary appearances are in children’s shows meaning that he’s always going to be portrayed in a negative light bc shows made for children have simple morals that can’t really account for the nuance of the necessity of far-left action and/or terrorism and also his character was made by a company that has military contracts meaning that he will also always be portrayed negatively because the concept of a radical partisan is frighting to the status quo regardless of how politically adept Andor might seem but no one ever includes that nuance when discussing his character so everyone argues in circles until the sun burns out and we all hate each other

[raikiriwolfwrites]

Bitterness, Sweetened by Your Lips

Lucanis is struggling after Weisshaupt. Emotions boil over and Rook is there to offer long needed reassurances.

Enby RookxLucanis

Warning for allusions to Caterina's A+ parenting and panic attacks.

Chapter 6 - Catharsis

Read on AO3

Lucanis landed heavily against the stone, jolting upright with a wince as Ghilan’nain screamed in disbelief at the blood trickling from the cut on her face.

He’d missed.

The tap of Caterina’s cane echoed in his ears, moving closer, ready to chastise him for his failure. He was ready to throw himself back at Ghilan’nain, prove he could complete the job, when Rook’s shout made him pause. The rhythmic sound of a cane on stone morphed into Rook’s heavy footfalls as they ran up to him, gloved hand a vice around his bicep to pull him back.

“Let’s go!”

“Give me another shot!” He tried to twist out of Rook’s grip, but they held firm.

“Too late, back to the eluvian.”

He wanted to keep fighting, fix his mistake, but writhing walls of blight were building up around Ghilan’nain and spreading fast as she raged. Logic won out over anger. Rook was right, the window of opportunity was gone. He hesitated for one final second, watching his target disappear from sight behind a grotesque, fleshy, barrier of blight, before pivoting on his heel and following after Rook and the others.

Rook shouted to Holden as the team drew together in their sprint for the exit. “Is it working?”

The ethereal glow of the eluvian seemed as strong as ever as they approached. The familiar floating islands of the Crossroads just visible through its shimmering surface. “I hope so.”

“Best odds all day.”

One by one they ran through to the safety of the Crossroads beyond.

-----

They all went their separate ways in the Lighthouse, agreeing to meet up in the dining hall once they’d all cleaned off the blood, sweat, grime and blight of Weisshaupt.

Lucanis mechanically cleaned up and redressed in his casual clothes. Leathers and blades were wiped off, checked over, and put away. Dust and sweat cleansed from his skin with a cloth and warm water. His body followed the familiar motions of fastening his waistcoat and heading to the kitchen to start preparing coffee while his mind whirled. He couldn't tell where his agitation ended and Spite’s began over the loss of their kill. They twined together, a negative feedback loop of emotion buffeting him from the inside as he desperately clung to his routine, and the familiar rich scent of Andoral’s Breath, to keep himself grounded. He tried taking deep, controlled breaths to reign the emotion back in, but it felt like trying to empty the Treviso canals with a coffee cup.

He doesn’t quite remember everyone else arriving, or sitting down at the table, but the next thing he registers is the solid presence of a chair beneath him and at his back. A press of warmth at his knee from his left draws him away from himself and he looks up from the coffee mug clutched like a lifeline between his palms.

Rook isn’t looking at him, they’re watching everyone settle in their seats, but he shifts his leg under the table to return the pressure, grateful for the contact as people start talking. He sips his coffee as the conversation washes over him, the words barely skimming his consciousness as he focuses on centering himself with even breaths.

Harding is the last to take her seat, with a missive in hand. “Evka sent word. Last of the civilians made it to Lavendel. Janos and his people held the line long enough for them to escape Weisshaupt. And the Wardens are in Lavendel, too.”

“What’s left of them, you mean. Over a thousand…that’s how many fellow Wardens I had. And now…One god. One Archdemon. That’s all it took to nearly wipe out our entire Order.”

“I promise you Davrin. We’ll make Ghilan’nain pay. For every Warden she killed. Every child left alone. There will be a reckoning.”

“How? We all saw what she did. That’s beyond…”

“We killed her Archdemon, though. That’s something, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. After it turned into a snake monster with too many heads! Are all blighted dragons going to do that? I don’t know how to fight that!”

“Well, at least we’ve made Ghilan’nain mortal.”

“Mortal or immortal doesn’t matter if we can’t get close enough.” The feeling of eyes boring into the side of his skull grates on his senses enough to pull his focus back to the table. Davrin’s look of disdain is aimed right at him as he continues. “We had our shot at her. And we missed.”

Spite’s anger is a writhing mass behind his eyes, melding with and feeding off his own frustration. The unsubtle jab, salt in a wound he was already picking the edges of raw. But he manages to keep his voice level to reply. “Say what you mean Davrin. I missed.”

“Nobody blames you for that, Lucanis.”

He held back a scoff. Harding may not, but she should. The target of his contract was there, he’d had his chance, and missed.

“Yeah? Maybe I do. This Crow has a demon inside him, right?”

Davrin’s words sank like hooks into the open wounds of his failure and he relished the sting. He needed to be better.

“Now that’s not–“

Davrin had found the target for his righteous anger and Harding’s interruptions weren’t going to stop him.

“How do we know we can trust him? Maybe the demon pulled his punches.”

Spite railed at that. He was clenching the mug in his hands tight enough he worried it might shatter as he fought back against Spite clawing for the reigns. But the porcelain held, as did his control, if only barely.

“Okay. Hold on. Now we’re getting–“

Between Davrin’s words, Spite’s vicious tantrum thrashing behind his eyes, and his own swirling temult of emotion, his patience and temper were fraying and he couldn’t help but snap back. “And you, Warden? What about the blight that runs through your veins? The same blight that Ghilan’nain commands so effortlessly.”

Even Emmrich’s deep well of patience seemed to be running dry as he attempts to settle them all down again. “Just a moment, please–“

“Enough!”

Rook’s deep voice cuts sharply through the bickering like a knife. A rare thread of anger steeling their voice enough to make everyone instantly fall blessedly silent and listen.

“Stop arguing. We’ve got no chance if we turn on each other. Chaos helps the gods, and hurts this team. It will get us killed, one by one.” They looked round the table as they spoke, meeting everyone’s eyes in turn. Lucanis gathered himself enough to meet them with a veneer of calm contrition as they finally reached him. Everyone looking suitably calm or chastised, they continue, addressing the whole table. The frustration has faded, but the hard edge to their voice remains, brooking no argument. “So get it together. We need to figure out how to defeat them.”

Emmrich is the first to break the tense silence. “We’re all in agreement on that point, Rook. But the question remains— how? We barely survived against one of the gods.”

Lucanis picks at the memory, trying to find the loose thread, where the job went wrong. He was so close. He cannot keep the bitterness from his tone as he mutters, “I nearly had her.”

“Nearly. But you and Spite are not of one mind, Lucanis. Fighting for control…it’s no wonder you missed such a rare opportunity.”

Emmrich’s words aren’t meant to be an attack, he knows, but still they fall like a lash on his back, another brand woven into the tapestry of failure across his skin.

Rook’s voice anchors him in the present and he clings to the comfort of it as it cuts through the turbulence in his mind. He feels the brief reprieve of the eye of the storm as he locked on to their words.

“We’ve all been distracted, but we’re not in this fight alone. We have allies and friends in all sorts of places. We reach out to them and eventually someone will find something that will put us on the trail of the gods. There’s so much going on that we can’t control, but the least we can do is help our allies, help each other. We can’t afford distractions, but we have time to prepare. For now though, we need to rest and cool off. We killed an Archdemon today, and we all made it out in one piece. And when the time comes, we make the gods pay for the ones who didn’t.”

Everyone read the silent dismissal in Rook’s words and started to slowly trickle out of the room, the tension between them not quite gone, but certainly lessened. Lucanis was the last to rise as Rook watched the door shut behind the others from their seat at the head of the table.

In the subsequent quiet, his own thoughts become loud again, he feels raw as his mind is pulled in every direction at once, an unrelenting force pounding behind his eyes.

But he has to keep it together. He can’t let Rook see how close the threads holding him together are to snapping. Rook deserves better than a patched up shell of a man, straining at the seams. He needs to be better. He needs to work, and prove that he can fulfill his contract.

The mask of collectedness doesn’t slip into place as easily as he would like but he manages to hold it together enough to try and reassure Rook. He hopes it’s enough for them to leave him alone to scrape together enough of the scattered pieces of himself; to build them back into something resembling Lucanis Dellamorte, the Demon of Vyrantium.

Rook reaches up and catches his forearm in their calloused palm as he rounds the table, concern clear in their expression.

“I’m fine. I just need some time alone to get my head on straight.”

They seem reluctant, but unwilling to push after the day they’ve had. They let him go, voice soft. “Whatever you need to do.”

He misses the warmth of Rook’s palm as he pulls away but he can feel the mask slipping. He can’t let Rook see. They have the whole team to hold together, they don’t need the added stress of holding him together, too. The roaring in his ears is starting to build again and his focus tunnels in on the pantry door, so much so that he doesn’t register Rook’s voice, talking to the empty air beside them as he firmly shuts the door behind him.

-----

He doesn’t even make it into the pantry fully, managing to close the door before the dam breaks and he collapses back against it. The thick wood doing more to hold him up than his own trembling limbs.

His back muscles twitched, besieged by a phantom ache, the memory of pain awakening as if fresh. Every thought, every doubt, every recollection of his failure compounding, layering over each other like the crack of Caterina’s cane on his bare flesh. His back itched and tingled where the scars mapped his skin. Each a lesson. One he thought he had learned well, paid for in sweat, blood and bruises seared deep into his bones.

He can faintly hear Spite, feel the brush of his sharp magic as his manifestation rages around him, but it’s distant, muffled. His mind sunk so deep into the maelstrom of his own feelings that even Spite’s can’t quite get through to him. His hands come up to clutch at his hair, the sting of his harsh grip a penance. Caterina’s firm hand always followed sharply on the heels of mistakes and failures. Until he learned not to fail. That pain had moulded him into the Master Assassin he was lauded as, made him stronger.

The ‘Demon of Vyrantium’ never failed a contract.

His family was nearly all gone. His home was under occupation. He had lost a year of his life to pain and darkness, only to escape with a mind and body that wasn’t even his own any more.

If he couldn’t even complete a contract, what did he have left.

What use is he to Rook.

His breath shakes, chest aching. One hand claws at the chain at his throat, ripping it off along with his cravat. The top button of his shirt falls victim to the harsh rake of nails and is sent flying, clattering across the floor alongside the crow skulls and chain. The hand returns to its tight grip in his hair and he closes his eyes to fight off the black encroaching at the edges of his vision, back sliding down the door until he meets the stone floor with a heavy thump. It should feel cold beneath him. He feels nothing. Disconnected from the sensation, and too entrenched in the depths of his own mind to notice.

The crumbling stone walls of the Ossuary close in around him, crushing the breath from his lungs. The trickling of water through the cracks becomes a flood. The water slowly rises up around him, engulfing him in its numbing embrace. He rakes blunt nails across his scalp to feel something other than the oppressive weight closing in from all sides.

The pressure builds, a vice around his ribs as his heart tries to break through them from the inside.

The dark nothingness he falls into is a relief.

-----

Spite growls and rages around the pantry as Lucanis shuts the door behind him. He throws his spectral form into the shelves, thrashes at the food, candles and other objects littering the pantry. But nothing budges.

He wants to break.

Kill.

But without Lucanis’ form he can’t.

The Lighthouse is the closest thing he’s felt to the fade since he was ripped from it, forced into a vessel not made to fit.

But he. Still. Can’t. Touch. Anything.

It’s part of the Fade, but disconnected somehow. Or maybe it’s him that disconnected. Forced into a mortal shell, not even a mage who can access the Fade. Only a tenuous link where the veil is weak allowing him to pull things through to help Rook.

His fury returns to its primary target.

Zara.

It’s. Her. Fault.

In the Fade the world would bend to his whims. With enough determination, anything was possible. But now be’s trapped. And Lucanis isn’t keeping his side of the deal.

He whirls back to where Lucanis is hunched by the door, surprised that he hasn’t been told to be quiet or wrangled back into the dank cell of the Ossuary in his mind.

Lucanis is ignoring him.

He stalks closer.

“Let. Me. OUT. We make them PAY. For what they did to. US.”

He was shouting in Lucanis’ face now but his eyes were screwed shut and he still wasn’t listening.

“You. Keep. Us. TRAPPED.”

He seethed, inches from Lucanis’ face, chest heaving from his outburst despite not needing to breathe. Still nothing. His anger simmered down as he looked closer at Lucanis.

Something was wrong.

The sour notes of distress permeated the air. The tangle in his mind where their emotions met was a turbulent mess. Feelings old and new knotted together and tore where they caught on sharp, unhealed edges. He prodded at the divide between them and was met with damp stone.

He couldn’t reach Lucanis.

The body before him was trembling, breaths thin and short. He watched it slide down to the floor.

He prodded harder at the link between them only to be met with a jolt of pain. No. That was Lucanis’ pain.

Lucanis was hurting.

He needs Lucanis.

But how can he make it stop.

He flitted about, unsure, but unable to do anything. He kept niggling at their bond. The mental wall keeping him out started to crumble as the body before him curled in tighter on itself. It collapsed, but there was only silence beyond. It felt like in the Ossuary, when Lucanis retreated into his mind, closed off from all feeling to escape the pain.

With the mental barrier gone, he was thrust into control of Lucanis’ body, catching it before it dropped sideways onto the floor.

It felt wrong. Like the adrenaline of battle coursing through his veins, but instead of adding strength, it left limbs shaking and weak. His chest felt bruised, heart beating too fast, finally starting to slow back to normal.

Lucanis needs help.

Rook.

Rook helps.

Rook, who’s magic feels like home. Who always listened, helped people who ask, and those who don’t. Who is kind but doesn’t hesitate to cut down those who stand in their way. Rook’s presence is a comfort to them both.

He forces shaky legs to stand and leaves the pantry with one goal in mind.

-----

Rook collapses onto the chaise with a heavy sigh. Weisshaupt had gone poorly yet, somehow, that meeting had been worse. Post battle adrenaline had made tempers short. They had done the rounds, checking in on everyone afterwards, and thankfully the team seemed to have settled down again. They have some time while their allies gather more intel, time they can use to help get everyone back on task and focused.

Lucanis was the only one they hadn’t spoken to. He said he needed some time, and they had to respect that, as much as they wished to be there by his side. They could see he was taking it hard, Davrin’s misplaced frustration not helping matters. They breathed out another weary sigh and dropped their head into their hands, rubbing at their eyes.

Maybe a short nap, and then drop by and see how he’s doing.

The rattle of the door handle lures their head from the cradle of their hands. The sight as it swings open has them jumping to their feet and rushing to the door.

“Lu- Spite!” The purple glow in place of dark brown is familiar, if unexpected. But the state he’s in sends a surge of panic through them.

“Rook.” Spite’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, a subtle tremor to it that makes Rook’s heart ache.

It’s the most dishevelled Rook’s ever seen Lucanis. His clothes are rumpled, cravat, collar pins and chain gone. They can see faint red welts across his neck where the shirt gapes open without the top button holding it closed. There’s a faint sheen of sweat across his skin and an unsteadiness to his limbs that contradicts the usually precisely controlled movements of the master assassin. Even without being able to read his eyes past the purple glow, his face looks lost and unsure. That more than anything, so unlike how Spite normally carries himself in Lucanis’ body, sends tendrils of anxiety racing through them.

Their hands flit over him, trying to find the source of the problem. Finding nothing obvious they move back up to gently cradle Spite’s face between their palms, smoothing their thumbs slowly across his cheeks. “Spite? What happened?”

Spite surges forward and buries his face into Rook’s neck, inhaling deeply, and their arms wind around him securely. They reach one arm out to shut the door, locking it behind them as they gently steer Spite towards the chaise.

They take a seat, pulling Spite down beside them. He clutches at Rook, face buried back in their neck as they settle. Lucanis’ body seems to lose some of its tension at the contact.

“Spite? What’s going on?” They probe gently, but receive no response except for deep breaths into the hollow of their throat. “If you can’t explain it, can I have Lucanis back to talk?”

The hair on his head tickles their chin as he shakes his head in a violent ‘no’.

“Lucanis hurts. Old and new. Then he hides.”

There’s a tightening in Rook’s chest, a deep regret from leaving Lucanis to dwell alone. Spite’s resonant growl over Lucanis’ voice vibrates against the skin of their neck with a wash of warm breath. But he pulls back to look at them, hand clutching at Rook’s shirt.

“Rook helps.” It’s both a statement and a plea.

The warmth at being trusted to help wars with the pain of knowing Lucanis is hurting, that Spite is hurting and confused. “Anything I can do, please, just ask.”

Spite shakes his head again.

“Rook. Safe.”

Rook blinks, confused, but reaches out to take Spite’s hand, running a thumb over his knuckles as they wait for him to elaborate.

“WE. Are safe. With Rook.”

Oh.

“Can’t reach. Lucanis. But he comes back…when it’s safe. Rook. Safe.”

They felt a surge of affection, they knew how hard it was for Spite to articulate through Lucanis. The effortless trade of thought and feeling between spirits in the Fade impossible to translate into inelegant syllables, especially in a body he had to fight to contain him. But he came to them. He and Lucanis needed help and he trusted them, explained where Lucanis could not.

“Thank you, Spite.” They pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “If you need to be here with me, you should at least be comfortable then.”

They set to removing Lucanis’ boots and waistcoat, setting them off to the side as Spite watched on.

“Come here.” Rook beckoned softly, guiding Spite down to lay along the chaise, head resting in their lap. They started running a hand soothingly through his hair and he nuzzled his face into Rook’s stomach, melting into the comforting touch with a rumble of contentment.

“I think you need rest too, Spite. I’ll be here as long as you and Lucanis need.”

They kept up the motion of smoothing their hand through his silky hair until Spite stilled fully, body relaxed. They kept caressing his hair gently, and they waited to see whose eyes would greet them when he woke up.

-----

He came to slowly, warm and comfortable, sighing softly at the gentle scratch of fingers against his scalp as fingers combed through his hair. He pressed his face deeper into the warm, soft fabric against his face. A soft chuckle jostled him slightly and he turned his head enough to slit an eye open. Rook was gazing fondly down at him. A myriad of emotions flickered across their face, he was still muzzy from sleep so couldn’t place all of them, but he thought he caught a shadow of concern mixed in with the affection.

Rook’s hand slipped from his hair to cup the side of his face, rubbing soothing circles at his temple where a headache was starting to make itself known.

“Back with me, Lucanis?”

The ache behind his eyes and throughout his limbs brought back a flood of memory. He winced, he hadn’t wanted Rook to see him like this. He can’t quite muster words to explain so he decides to hide his weakness away in Rook’s shirt once more, letting out a deep, shuddering sigh of defeat into their stomach.

“Lucanis? Please talk to me. Let me help.”

There was an edge of desperation to their voice. The thought of causing Rook undue upset outweighed his shame. Schooling his expression he levered himself upright, out of Rook’s lap. Rook didn’t let him go far though, pulling him into their side as he sat next to them.

He tried to think back, rubbing his eyes to ease the dull throbbing behind them, but everything after he closed the door to the pantry was a dark smudge in his memory. The loss of time always made him wary.

“How did I get here?” He asked quietly, voice rough from disuse.

Rook reached out to clasp his hand. “Spite was worried. He brought you here.” He could see them turn to him out the corner of his eye, feel the weight of their gaze, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet it. That first bit gave him pause though.

Worried?

Spite had control, and he came here?

Spite was there, quiet in the back of his mind. He tried to reach out but Spite stayed stubbornly tucked away, almost sulking.

“I know you took Weisshaupt hard. I’m sorry I didn’t come and check on you, but you said you needed some time alone-“

“No.” He couldn’t stand for Rook to blame themself over this. “You did everything you could, for everyone. I just l…didn’t want to you to see me like that. You have enough to deal with without my failures.”

The arm around his waist tightened. “You didn’t fail, Lucanis. We fought a god. We killed her Archdemon, wounded her, and we lived to tell about it.”

They didn’t understand.

“You shouldn’t go easy on me, Rook! I had her. She should have never gotten away from me. This was our contract, Rook. I don’t fail my contracts.”

“Ghilan’nain was a giant face in the clouds, Lucanis. I asked you to stab a cloud.”

“And I missed the damn cloud!”

“My point is: That was impossible, and you still almost did it. That’s not small. Things always go wrong, we learn and we grow. No one is infallible. You’re human, Lucanis.”

He chokes out a bitter laugh. “Am I?” Rook tenses beside him, but he cuts off the protest he can feel forming. “I thought I still had this. Whatever else I am, I’m a professional. After the Ossuary, I thought at least I could still take out a target. I need to work.”

Rook’s presence was a tether keeping him from spiralling like he did before, but he could feel the frustration building up behind his eyes and they stung with unshed tears.

Rook coaxes him to turn towards them with a soft grip on his jaw. He relents to the pressure. There’s a steel in their eyes “And you will. Next time we go in prepared, and we will succeed. Together. For now, forget about Ghilan’nain.”

“But that’s why I’m here. If I can’t do this, what use am I to you.”

“Lucanis…I’m just happy you didn’t get killed out there. Yes, we hired you for your reputation. But you have saved my life, the lives of everyone on this team, more times than I could count. You look after us in and out of battle. I’ve seen you buy gifts based on a throwaway comment that no one else even remembered. But you listened, and you did.”

There’s a strange ache in his chest, not like the one from before. He wants to look away, but Rook holds firm, willing their words to sink in.

“You don’t just cook for us, you go out of your way to make sure everyone gets a taste of home. You give them comfort in a world that has little to spare right now. Of course we value your skills, you’ve trained hard to be as good as you are, but that isn’t all we care about.”

He could see tears shimmering at the corners of their eyes, felt matching ones trying to escape his own. They took a steadying breath before pressing their forehead to his, voice deep and sure.

“You could fail a thousand contracts, and you would still matter. Especially to me.” They hold Lucanis’ face, not letting him break eye contact, even as they lean back to put a few inches of space between their faces. He’s subjected to the force of the full, open, honesty on their face, their eyes shimmering wetly with every ounce of emotion laid bare. Their words struck deep beneath years of knotted scar tissue. Unravelling something deep in his chest.

Caterina had honed him as a weapon his whole life. He didn’t know what he was beneath that. If there was anything left once Lucanis the Crow was stripped away. But Rook made him want to find out. Rook saw Lucanis, demon and all, and saw someone worth caring for. Liquid gathered unbidden in his eyes as his walls started to crumble.

“You are more than your blades, Luca.”

He broke.

Buried his face in Rook’s shoulder and clung to them like a lifeline as decades of pent up emotion washed out. Strong arms pulled him into their lap fully and wrapped around him, holding him in place. They made no comment on the wetness spreading on their shirt, only clutching him tighter, hands stroking soothingly wherever they could reach as they pressed their cheek to the top of his head. A shield to keep him safe from the outside world as he fell apart.

-----

Lucanis didn’t know how long he had been curled up in Rook’s lap, but they had stayed like that in comfortable silence as the tears dried on his face. A weight lifted from his chest as he relaxes into the hold. He slides his head away from the damp patch of shirt to nestle more comfortably against the warm skin at the crook of Rook’s neck.

Pressing a kiss to the skin he mutters a quiet “Thank you.” into it. Their response is simply a low hum as he feels a kiss returned to his hair. His throat is dry, the tear tracks have left his cheeks feeling tight, and he there’s a sense of contradictory lightness and exhaustion deep in his bones. He thinks he might end up stiff staying like this for much longer but there’s a layer of peace blanketing them that quashes any need to move.

He wraps his arms around Rook to sit in a more comfortable embrace against them and they shift to accommodate him easily. He allows his mind to wander in the quiet and something Rook said came back to him. He leaned back to lay against the meat of Rook’s shoulder so he could look up at them curiously.

“You called me Luca.”

The statement caught them off guard, and they blinked at him for a second while they processed, before smiling down at him apologetically.

“Ah, sorry. Do you not like it?”

“No, it’s…” he looked down at his hand, fidgeting with the worn fabric of Rook’s shirt. “My mother. I don’t remember her well, but I remember she called me that once. When I was young.” He looked up into Rook’s eyes, smiling softly, and pressed a hand over their heart. “I like being Luca to you.”

The kiss he was pulled into was gentle. The faint hint of salt still stained his lips but made the kiss no less sweet.

They traded soft kisses for a short while before relaxing into a comfortable position to lounge together, trading idle conversation into the night.

And some wholesome post chapter art

[supervisormeero]

At some point... will Grand Admiral Thrawn be appearing... in this show

Don't mind me, just putting on my clown shoes (believing we actually see Thrawn tonight)

[colleybri]

Cassian x Bix and Rebelcaptain: Please let these ships be friends !

I ‘ship’ Cassian x Bix AND Cassian x Jyn. I see there has been some conflict in the past when the “new woman” was first brought in with the series, some that remains now, and I’m both saddened and bemused by that.

Rebelcaptain for me is a canon relationship… to a certain extent. I have no doubt that these brave heroes would have ended up together had they lived. That’s why I love it… the whole beautiful tragedy of what might have been, and the loyalty that binds people together when making a sacrifice like this. Were they actually in love, in canon? For me – no. Not yet. And that’s important for my personal enjoyment of Rogue One, especially its ending. As the novelisation stresses, Cassian dies without knowing Jyn as “There wasn’t the time”. And I simply don’t believe you can love someone without knowing them . But I enjoy the idea of exploring what would have happened had they lived. They are a perfect loyal “battle couple”, definitely my favourite fanon SW couple and great to imagine together. I see Rebelcaptain also as a way of giving them the happy ending they deserved. Oh - and the chemistry between Felicity Jones and Diego Luna on-screen is absolutely electric. In short and again: I have no doubt that they would have fallen in love had they lived and would have been perfect for each other. And they are a perfect fanon ship.

(^^ And I I think this is the exact moment in canon when they both acknowledge the loss of what might have been. It’s just heartbreakingly beautiful… )

Cassian x Bix - I don’t even think of it as a ‘ship’ per se as it is a 100% canon relationship, and one that is currently ongoing as we wait for Andor S2.. It’s fascinating to me – 17 years of friendship that has occasionally blossomed into a romantic/sexual relationship. It’s a genuinely unusual set up too. I’ve read a few takes that they are “over each other” by the time of the start of the series, to which I want to say … watch again, closely! They certainly have moved on to date different people, but it’s also very clear from their interactions (especially in the intense scene in Ep 7) that there is still a lot of extremely deep feeling between them – even if some of it is very negative. In the S1 production notes, the show’s creator Tony Gilroy says that they “are meant to be together… but it’s been impossible all these years. Now, she’s done with him … he’s burnt every last bridge .” Why? The series also provides the answer – Cassian is in many ways an absolute mess at the start of the season and Bix was quite rightly fed up with him as a boyfriend. He’s completely unreliable, likes short-lived affairs (often with married women - so no risk of commitment!), isn’t working regularly and has debts all over the place. This largely stems from his “unresolved childhood trauma”. He has a fear of “leaving people behind” and despite having a lot of love to give “ is so scared of being loved”. But he and Bix nonetheless prove to be incredibly loyal friends and their love in this platonic sense clearly runs very deep indeed. They have known each other since he was 10 so she is also something like a sister figure. Bix is still very protective of Cassian and takes personal risks for him… and he finally comes to appreciate this and pay back his metaphorical debt to her in the finale. The question now is what season 2 holds for them, if anything.

(^^ I love the way she is using her fingertips to push his hand off, as if to avoid the risk of too much touch. The gesture and look that says “Please don’t try and get close to me again because we both know how bad that is for us… but I’m such a total idiot when it comes to you that I will still very unwisely go out of my way to help you, especially when you look at me like that so please just don’t”)

Does loving their messy and complicated relationship mean that I want Cassian and Bix to ‘end up together’ ? No, and the obvious additional point is that they don’t! They are both going to be very different people at the start of S2 and over the following years of the story . Bix has been traumatised; Cassian has been radicalised. And that’s just the start. Perhaps they quickly drift apart. Perhaps some kind of betrayal is involved. Perhaps one or both of them will want to commit again to a relationship, but it’s impossible because of the demands of the rebellion (like Vel /Cinta). Perhaps Bix “ends up with” someone else (Brasso, ideally, especially if they both survive the season). Perhaps they will get back together at least for a while and enjoy a little last happiness before inevitable heartbreak. Perhaps all, some or none of these. But none of that stops me from loving and appreciating what they do have, what they have had up to now, and the intriguing dynamics of when they do interact on screen. Bix x Cassian attracts me as a fanfic ship because it’s all about exploring what is there and how it came to be, which is why I currently don’t write them beyond the present time of season 1. I’m waiting to see what happens next in Canon, as it were, because that to me is an important part of writing them. Meanwhile, I’m enjoying analysing the relationship by imagining them in the past.

So for me Bix x Cassian in no way impacts on Jyn x Cassian or vice versa, especially if you apply… real life principles rather than the ideals of fandoms: “soulmates” and OTPs. Many people – most people – will have a beautifully intense and loving relationship with more than one person at different times of their lives. I’m old – trust me on this one.

^^ Both relationships in these two scenes go way beyond romance. In the first - many years of close and loyal friendship. In the second: a bond created through brave and selfless sacrifice together. And for both: Cassian’s absolute hatred of being “someone who leaves people behind”: the quality that I love best about him. And saving each other. Literally and metaphorically.

And oh… it’s beautiful. Both moments are beautiful.

Edit: here we go - another lovely link! Battle couple vibes and Cassian working with a strong woman. Perfect shipping material! I mean, they have to take a little time off from fighting fascists sometime, right? Riiight?