#cassian core

[cassiandefenseattorney]

A message from Cassian

“You will face all of this, and you will get through it.

It is not too late, not for any of it. And I can’t tell you when, or how, but it will get better. What you feel, you will get through it.

But only if you are willing to fight. Only if you are willing to face it, and embrace it, and walk through it, to emerge on the other side of it. And maybe you will still feel that tinge of pain, but there is another side. A better side.”

Cassian believes you can do it, so do it♥️

[climbthemountain2020]

Cass Drabble for @cassianappreciationweek

This one is a gift for you @c-e-d-dreamer 🥰😂

“Cassian, tell me you're kidding,” Nesta demanded, standing with her hands on her hips in their luxurious, shared bathroom in the House of Wind.

Cassian, wide-eyed and staring and covered in suds, grinned with all his teeth. He was going for a look of charming innocence. “What, babe?”

“Oh, you know what,” she spit out, pointing her elegant finger at him and taking a step forward towards the shower. “Don't play dumb with me.”

“Nes, I would never.” He felt a little exposed in their current situation. It wasn't like it was anything his mate hadn't seen before, but the last few people Nesta had pointed at with that sort of accusation in her voice hadn't fared particularly well.

“Oh, no. You aren't going to charm your way out of this one.”

He wiped a hand over his face, clearing the lather and letting the bubbles drip down his massive body and into the shower drain, the suds making his eyes burn.

“House? Douse him, please.”

“No, Nes, wait! It's always freez–” He didn't finish the sentence before a cascade of frigid water dumped over his head, washing all the remaining lather from him. Nesta stepped forward, nearly stepping into the shower with him while he backed into the still-flowing warmth, gasping.

“You lied to me!”

“I did not lie to you, Nes!”

“You're using dish soap on your hair. You have curls, Cassian. They need moisture,” Nesta yelled. “You told me that you had an 11-step hair care routine!”

Azriel’s voice rang out while he passed by their open bedroom door. “It's about eleven steps to the kitchen from your room, technically.”

A passive rage crawled over Nesta’s face as she understood. “UNbelievable.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

“It's fresh linen scent!” He hollered after her. "I love you!"

[depressedreader209]

so true tho

[vampireghostsart]

[oc] cassian

text: When the turf is thy tower // and the pit is thy bower // thy pale white skin and throat // only sullen worms shall note. // What helpeth thee, then // was all your worldly hope? (translation of Whan the turuf is thy tour)

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[gwandas]

N*ssian stans acting like it’s unreasonable to expect an "I love you" in a romance novel is kinda hilarious honestly.

[andorshitdaily]

tell me in the tags who I missed!

[feyres-divorce-lawyer]

sjm really named feyre, princess of carrion, cassian, lord of bloodshed, nesta, lady death, and rhysand, death incarnate, then said yeah let me pair feysand and nessian…..

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

Bat Boys Core

[adahlenan]

The waiting game.

[cassiandefenseattorney]

"And the taste of him, like snow-kissed wind and crackling embers-" Acosf, chapter 19

[eerna]

... Dare I ask what the hell the velvet wrapped steel joke is. Please tell me the euphemisms in SJM books aren't that bad... Do they get worse??! I have heard about the (ACOTAR or one of those books?) mountain sex scene ... Why are so many romantasy authors using "seated to the hilt". Why... Why do this.

In one ToG book "velvet wrapped steel" means a boner, but in another it's used to describe that same man's (sorry MALE'S) shoulder... So the joke is that this one love interest's shoulder is penis-like. Or his penis is shoulder-like. Because SJM is bad at euphemisms, as you've noticed. There's a bunch of other turns of phrase in those books that make me laugh super hard - if you're interested in a jokey reviews of the series that are mainly about the stupid romance writing, check out this playlist!

[lady-of-tearshed]

Ephemeral

Cassian x Reader

A/N: This fic is really angsty. There are two alternative endings, click on the one you want once you're done reading that first part.

Summary : Cassian asks to be paired with you on a mission. One of his not-so-funny jokes turns into a real nightmare...

Warnings: angst, blood, injuries, (First ending alternative: death, dismemberment)

“Alright. We’re setting camp here for the night.”

You furrow your brows, a look of confusion plastered on your face as you look over the map, spotting the emplacement Cass was currently setting camp at. Lorarey. Lorarey… Your eyes scan over the Illyrian mountain region on the map, the name of the city echoing through your mind. A brief memory crosses your mind, you hum, spinning around to where Cassian was starting to set up the tent, your eyes still fixed onto the map you were holding. “Cass… Didn’t Azriel warn us about this region? The name sounds strangely familiar…” 

You trace your finger on the map, as if trying to remember if, and what Azriel mentioned anything about Lorarey. You sit on the ground, scratching your temple as your mind runs to remember any important information, because obviously Cassian wouldn’t have been the one to remember any kind of information Azriel would’ve told him, too excited to be paired up with you on this mission. 

Rhysand had sent you and Cassian to the Illyrians mountains with the goal of reporting every region advancements on the rules he had newly set for them. Cassian had insisted that you were the one that needed to come with him, so the Illyrian generals would have a better idea of how womens and mens could work as a team, as equals. You hadn’t thought much of Cassian insisting on the fact, almost begging Rhys, that it should be you that went with him. It could’ve been Feyre, Amren, Morrigan, anyone really. But Cassian had asked for you. You start to drift from your previous worry, and now all you can concentrate about is why Cassian could possibly have wanted to be paired on this mission with you, out of anyone else?

Wait…The silence was unusual, you were never able to think or concentrate in peace with Cassian around. He would’ve made a joke about how the way you frown makes you look old…You lift your eyes from the map, and scan your surroundings. Cassian. Where was Cassian? You jump onto your legs, your chest heaves rapidly, your shaking hands reach down to your thigh, unsheathing your dagger, your knuckles white from the tight grip around it, and tears start forming into your eyes. No… No no no no no… This can not be happening… Not when you’ve never told him that-

A pair of large hands pins your arms to your side, making your dagger fall off your hand.Your back is quickly pinned against a broad chest, you wiggle, trying to free yourself from the man’s grip, until you feel soft lips brush against the shell of your ear and whisper. “Boo.” You free yourself of the grip and spin around, your face and ears red and boiling hot. “Not funny at all, Cassian.” You angrily pick up the dagger you dropped and stomp away from this dumb, annoying Illyrian brute. Cassian just bends in half, holding his stomach as his deep, rich laughter resonates. A huge contrast of the heavy silence of the Illyrian mountains. You proceed to pick up some wood, ignoring Cassian teasing restlessly about how he almost made me shit my pants, telling me how I shouldn’t have let down my guards by looking at the map. 

You grumble, starting to assemble the wood in a pile so that you can start trying to light a fire. Cassian clasp his hands together, a proud grin lifting the corners of his lips as he finishes to assemble the tent for tonight. You hear his heavy boots walking towards you, crouching down to where you were trying to make the flame catch onto the wood. “Hey…” He whispers, gently nudging your side. “I’m sorry.” He chuckles, his large gloved hands ruffling your hair, trying to make you laugh. “Well, I’m still pissed.” You answer dryly, not even caring to look at him at this moment. You were mad at him, but even more so at yourself. He was right, you shouldn’t have been distracted by the map. What if someone would’ve captured him for real because of your inattentiveness? What if he would’ve been tortured because of you? What if…

Cassian’s body stills beside yours, and you lift your eyes from the fire, scanning your surroundings. Your Fae ears were perked, twitching at every sound. “Cass-” Your voice was low, shaking. He quickly puts his hand over your mouth, eyebrows frowned. “Not a sound…” He wasn’t joking, his face and tone was clearly indicating to you that he was deadly serious right now. Before you can process anything, a hissing sound snaps through the silence, and Cassian shields your body with his, his wings wrapped protectively around you. A grunt falls from his lips as something pierce into his back, his leathers ripped open, and the smell of an open wound filling up your nostrils. His eyes widen, roll at the back of his head before his body collapses down onto yours. Your head bumps on a log on your fall down to the ground, causing you to fall unconscious. 

—--

Cold… The first thought that came to your mind when your heavy eyelids fluttered open was how cold this place was. How dark… You tried to lift your aching limbs from the ground, begging your eyes to quickly adjust to the pitch-black darkness. The second your body is sat on the ground you feel the world around you start spinning. A qualm rushes through your body, your body shudders as bile rises up in your esophagus. Your body bends over, your shaking hands keeping you from falling into the waves of vomit that were expelled from your body. Breathe, You needed to breath, to ground yourself just like Cassian had thought you multiples of times in training. Your brain needs oxygen to think clearly. Breathing is the key. A distant memory of his advice echoes through your head, and you fight the urge to tear up.

Cassian… where was Cassian? Breathe… His voice resonates once more through the incessant pounding of your head. Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale… You repeat the action for a few minutes, your eyes starting to slowly adjust to the darkness in the meanwhile. Once you start to feel grounded, you start to pat your body, self-examining any potential injuries. Your legs were roughly scraped, there was a nasty bump at the back of your head, and your ankles and wrist were aching from the tight leather restraints. Leather restraints… Lorarey… You try to process the information, when suddenly everything clicks into place. Lorarey ; that was the Illyrian region Azriel had warned you about. He had warned you that a group of Illyrian rebels had been spotted around here recently. A group of barbare Illyrian, who were still stubbornly stuck with their ancient gory culture. They were merciless, and it was impossible to communicate with them, since they were only speaking an old Illyrian dialect. Not that they would have listened to anyone anyway. 

Your heart skips a beat at the rustle of wings coming from your left. Your eyes squint, your nostrils flare, taking in the familiar scent. “Cassian…” You whisper, crawling as close as you can to the limp body sprawled on the cave’s freezing floor. Your hands couldn’t reach his body, the leather restraints wrapped around your ankles and wrist stretched to the maximum. You stretch your neck, your cheek barely reaching his hand.  You gently tug at his pinky with your teeth, dragging his hand as close to you as possible. You rest your cheek on the pulse point of his wrist, sighing in relief at the soft thumping of it against your skin. 

A tear of slight relief rolls down onto your cheek as you nestle your head into the large palm of his hand, begging the Mother to give you a way to get out of here. Both of you. Or at least Cassian. He was the most valuable one of you two. He was the Lord of Bloodshed, for fuck sake. He couldn’t just… perish in a cold cave because his idiotic mission partner couldn’t protect him. Prythian needed him, his brothers needed him, Mor and Amren too needed him… You needed him. You sniffle, burying your cheek deeper into the palm of his hand, ignoring the burning of the tensed leather on your skin. 

Rhysand was too far away for you to reach, and you couldn’t risk lowering your shields in case the enemy had daemati powers. You thought about screaming for help, but the idea quickly vanished at the idea of the enemy risking to kill you both if you didn’t stay silent.You hear Cassian groan silently, his body slightly shivering. “Cass..?” You call for him again silently, internally begging for him to wake up, to fight. He had always been the strong one in these kinds of situations. Cassian would’ve known what to do, how to free the both of you, you would probably already be free and out of this cave if he was conscious at the moment. You bite your lip. You needed- no, you will stay strong for him. Fight. Think. But for now, your body felt heavy, and your head was too cloudy to think, so the only thing you could do was to seek comfort in the touch of his hand against your cheek. “I’m not mad anymore… I’m sorry.” You whisper, your body too weak to stay conscious anymore. 

—--

Help… Help… Help… 

You move your shields up and down, begging for Rhysand to hear you. To come or send someone, anyone, to your rescue. Cassian’s body was shivering with fever, your cheek moist from his sweaty hand. He hadn’t woken up once since you had been captured and dragged into this cave. You were nibbling at the leather shackles on your ankle, pain burning the muscles of your back at the unnatural contortion. The smell of copper filled the air of the dark cave, the metallic taste lingering in your mouth combined with the ache of your gums made you want to give up. But you couldn’t. For Cass, you needed to fight. If no one was coming to save the both of you, you would. 

You felt as if you were losing your mind. How long has it been? Minutes? Hours? Days? You couldn’t tell. The pitch-black darkness of the cave made it impossible to stay oriented. No one had come into the cave, not to your knowledge. Was it their plan, to make you go mad until you perish? At this point, you would’ve probably preferred to be physically tortured, you thought. Cassian’s ragged breathing was the only thing that held the last bit of sanity left in you. Your anchor… He had always been, and you were so fucking stupid to never have told him. You should’ve told him, you shouldn’t have relied on your practically immortal life as a Fae. Life, even as an immortal, could be taken away from you at any given moment. There was no guarantee about anything, even as a Fae, you now realized.

Alternative endings:

They both die

They both live

[depressedreader209]

feyre core

[lucienarcheron]

I love their flirting your honor 😌

[flowerflamestars]

Timeloop au snippet

Smaller human, Nesta had to tip back her chin to the point of lurid invitation, to make contact, nose brushing the notch of his collar bone.   “Spring,” she muttered, making a face, “Roses.”  Curled in his shirt, Nesta’s sure grip pressed to Lucien’s ribs. An ease. Not a push. What could or could not be a request, all for Lucien to decide.   He backed up. Tugged her along with him, until Lucien spilled backwards onto that wide bed he’d grown to hate, russet colors brightened by Nesta sliding close without pause. Her head on his pillow, her searing eyes close, Nesta let out a long breath.   “We,” she announced, nose brushing Lucien’s as he scooted closer, “Have a problem.”   Lucien had a problem- he’d never kissed her human mouth. Breathed in the scent of warm skin instead, under the sear of those heated grey eyes. “A problem that made you cross the wall in twenty minutes. Are you”-  “Five days,” Nesta interrupted, words hissed across his face.   Time stretched, Lucien stared. It wasn’t possible. Shouldn’t have been. Even operating under the undeniable truth that impossible things found Nesta like moth to flame, curses did not alter. Shift. The specificity required for that far a reach of magic was-   “Fucking ridiculous,” Nesta picked right up, like she could hear his very thoughts.

“You’re alright?”   “I’m fine.” A near, fond thing, the roll of her eyes. Nesta sighed. “I’m also more sure than ever I did not start these fucking loops. There is no version of myself that wished to go back to the first time Rhysand foisted Cassian on me.”   The first time- Lucien’s heart seemed to clench. “Nesta.”   “I’m fine.” Softer, a promise, cool fingertips brushing his jaw. “He just”-

“He just what,” Lucien asked, nearly soundless.   Nesta curled forward, boots brushing his calves, moving into Lucien’s body until she was breathing against him, with him. “He was exactly the same. I’m not. He tried to- well, as it turns out, even at mortal strength, a knife through the eye is enough to kill an Illyrian.”   Horrible and wonderful and- Lucien laughed, the sound relief, brightening her face into those wicked lines he knew so well now.   “Bribed a kelpie to carry me over the wall,” Nesta admitted, flat teeth flashing in a distinctly inhuman way. “You’re going to have to help me with the rest of the body, Vanserra.”