#cassian didn't grow but his ego did

[extremely-judgemental]

Cassian is ugly and his arc is messier. The more you look into his past and his chemistry/dynamic with other characters, his behaviour doesn’t corroborate with his words, and it becomes harder to see him as the goofy, sunshine guy SJM wants us to believe.

(response to this by @flat-neines. I agree with everything you pointed out and I didn’t want to hijack your post, so here we are. This has been in my drafts for months and I didn’t have the mental capacity to put them in a coherent order, and it’s a LOT (also because I didn’t want to dedicate another post to this mf, really). So, have an open mind and take it with a grain of salt. If anyone doesn’t want another long rant, you should read that one lol.)

Cassian is devoted to Rhysand.

For a bastard who’s constantly dismissed in his life, Rhysand is the first one to give him the validation he craves. Of all the boys, he was the chosen one and his life turned around when he was basically adopted (I’m not gonna repeat this again, you can read it here). Because of this, he is more loyal to Rhysand than his people, his title, his armies, or even his court.

Cassian doesn’t see Azriel as his equal.

He’s been enjoying this new life for a whole year and only befriends Rhysand after Azriel comes into the picture. They both are bastards. They both are underprivileged. Cassian’s unwarranted aggression towards an already abused boy, who doesn’t know how to fly or fight, outside their training can imply that he saw him as a threat to his status with Rhysand. So, he put him in his place.

There are two other instances where his sense of superiority comes through. First, in the dinner scene in MAF where he boasts about giving Azriel hell and he doesn’t hesitate to share about his captivity. There’s no emotional cue in the conversation that indicates he truly feels bad for either of those. Morrigan has to interrupt the guy who is supposedly emotionally so capable of reading the room that he gets Feyre’s trauma during their training better than anyone and ‘knows’ what Nesta needs to heal.

Second during Eris’s seduction in SF. Cassian is jealous only when Eris is dancing with Nesta. Azriel can keep up with her too, but he isn’t bothered by it. It’s dismissed because they are friends and he trusts his friend. But Cassian’s insecurity is that he’s a brute through and through and it’s why Nesta sees him as less than. And Azriel is well-mannered compared to him in every way. He’s polite, he sings and dances, and also he has a way with people which is noted in his interactions with the Archeron sisters and the priestesses. But his mannerisms don’t bring out these fears in Cassian. (Insecurities don’t understand if you’re their friend or foe.)

If, instead of being a bastard, Azriel had been a true son of a lord, their dynamic would’ve been so different. 

Cassian doesn’t love Morrigan.

Both are bastards, but Morrigan, the second woman he encounters in his life, is drawn to Azriel and not him. Cassian knows Azriel longer, he knows how much he’s been deprived of love, and he knows his reservations around people. He still chooses to hurt him and only realises his mistake when he sees the look on his face, but he already knew his brother is in love. The reason that makes sense is Morrigan validates him by sleeping with him, proves that he isn’t at the bottom of the pyramid, there’s someone else beneath him—Azriel. Once he got that, he moved on. It’s why he’s not bothered by her endless partners which clearly affects Azriel. Which is why he still flirts with her because he doesn’t regret it.

And now, he still doesn’t love Morrigan. He’s infatuated with the idea of the 17-year old big-eyed girl who saw him as a saviour. With the sexual element thrown in, she became the standard against which other women in his life are measured.

Cassian doesn’t want a mate.

His dream is to have children—not specifically a mate—so that he can be a better father. He only mentions ‘mate’ because he knows he has one. Mating bonds are rare and the one he witnesses is the worst of the ‘mating bond gone wrong’ cases with Rhysand’s parents. His desire for a mate is not as woven into his identity as it is for Azriel. He wants a woman to bear his children—like the other Illyrians, and for him, it’s convenient that she’s already chosen. Even without a mate, Cassian would have settled with any woman as long as he could parent someone. This also shows in the way he treats Nesta. If he yearned for such a bond, he wouldn’t disrespect it as much as he did and definitely wouldn’t prioritise Rhysand over it.

The second bond he witnesses is between Rhysand and Feyre. Since he doesn’t know what happened UtM, all he sees is Feyre knowing the ‘bad guy’ act and still falling in love with his best friend, Feyre supporting him and going along with his every decision. Given how Cassian idolises him, he wants to replicate their relationship even to the point of breaking Nesta to his will. He wants someone to be his Feyre.

His treatment of Nesta in SF is more than his loyalty to Rhysand. The first and only woman to nurture him is Rhysand’s mother. She took him in, fed him, clothed him, educated him. She cared for him in ways his mother should have and couldn’t. Cassian wants an amalgamation of Rhysand’s mother (the ideal mother for his children) and young Morrigan (his dream standard). But he’s stuck with Nesta who is neither ‘motherly’ to anyone nor does she admire him. When Cassian says ‘he’s shackled to her’, he means it. So, he moulds her into someone who is in awe of him, puts him on a pedestal, and makes him feel like a superior male.

Cassian’s arc is fake and forced.

The beginning of SF is quite strong with Cassian doubting himself. He is a War General and yet he struggles to earn the respect of his people because of his status. He’s thrust into the role of a courtier and he questions himself more and more as he’s not a high-born, nor is he trained to handle such diplomatic situations. 

Cassian is no Jon Snow.

His insecurities stem from the fact that he’s a bastard born to an unnamed father. It’s rooted in his core identity. However, Cassian’s situation is not so unique. Of course, he lost his mother because of his birth and that’s an incomparable trauma but it’s also common among his people who breed women. Every boy is thrown into the camps and trained, and only rightful ones are allowed in the Blood Rite. They don’t even live with their families and the only exception is Rhysand. Not to dismiss his trauma, but his insecurity falls flat and undermines the narrative when we factor in Illyrian culture.

All this could have been fixed if Cassian had tried to earn the respect of his people instead of the courtiers who were never going to anyway. Though he’s a War General, he doesn’t share camaraderie with his soldiers, he doesn’t live with them, and he has no respect for them. He does nothing to change his own beliefs or prove to others that he's more than a bastard. Instead, he uses a ‘you have no right to judge me’ attitude while constantly looking for approval everywhere.

Instead of addressing it where it counts, he’s comparing himself with Lucien and Eris, but not Vassa (a human queen) and Jurian (a renowned human War general). Why does an Illyrian who yearns for respect from his people compete with a select few who are only high fae and are of royal blood?

Nesta is his cure-all.

There’s one instance that truly marks Cassian’s supposed growth—where he sees his real ‘worth’—when Nesta admires him for his wits and apologises. In the same conversation, he admits his act was inspired by her. This is meant to be a ‘We make each other better’ moment but it fails miserably as Cassian spends the entire book tearing her down. He shows little to no concern for her wishes or needs. He assaults her in her room, stalks her, dismisses the bargain, and coerces her into an imbalanced relationship. For someone who cares so little about Nesta and her opinion of him, his fears being wiped out in a single conversation is laughable. For someone who doesn't believe he's smart, he sure seemed quite smug about outdoing an evil witch instead of it being pointed out by others and coming to the realisation being a bastard has nothing to do with being a hero.

(This could also be seen as his jealousy which leads him to fuel her self-loathing and fears so that Nesta never realises she deserves better than him. Which is quite similar to what he does with Azriel. The only ones he allows to surpass him are Rhysand, Feyre by extension, and Morrigan since he already got what he wanted from her.)

On the other hand, the one whose validation he truly seeks is Rhysand. Cassian's inner monologues clearly suggest his attempt at embodying him during the different meetings. Despite this imitation, he says the aforementioned to Nesta which can only be seen as a manipulation tactic.

I don’t even think this conflict was even in the OG Cassian character. SJM slapped it on him just for SF because it’s convenient and he needs an arc in his book. But she doesn’t want to fix Illyria or even give it a spotlight, so she stuck with Cassian trying to beat Eris. His insecurities aren’t even resolved. He still hasn’t come to terms with him being a bastard. His healing requires acceptance from himself first and also deep self-reflection. Nesta is only a supply for his ego and an emotional punching bag. Honestly, Cassian disgusts me more than Rhysand.

[littlest-w01f]

Chapter Six

Series Masterlist

Cw: None

The room was silent, as a young Fae sat in front of her empty wall, an empty wall where the map of Prythian was painted, the Night Court, her home, covered in marks and strings, the places she'd been in, covered in those markers.

Rheana held a book in her hands, a book with green and gold binding, open on her lap. Her brother had made a new friend, Tamlin of Spring, and she might have bombarded him with questions about his court, wanting to know everything about his lands.

The male had simply sneaked her a book of his court history, which she had read in a few hours. From the book she wrote down what she learnt about the Spring Court, the book was thick enough to need multiple bindings, and a gentle hand to keep it together.

She'd been meaning to ask Tamlin to let her visit Spring but how Cassian and Azriel had reacted to the male, his family might not react well to her either.

Rheana sighed, looking at the map of her world, her father never let her go anywhere, he always either took her elder brother or her younger sister, Rheana was too wild of a daughter, in his words.

She had given up trying to get her father to like her after she'd begged her mother to take her with her and Rhysand to one of the Illyrian camps.

Windhaven was exciting for her, a new place she wanted to know everything about, her own people she wanted to know a lot about.

Even if her father didn't care for them, he had threatened them to let her train, not because it was what he wanted for her, but because they would threaten his authority if he couldn't make them train her, if their misogyny was more powerful than a High Lord's order.

And Rheana had suffered hardships for it, having to prove herself over and over again to the males who would never think them equal.

She had been beaten up and gotten back up again, every day was a new opponent, and right now, it was knowledge.

"So, you can grow flowers by your magic right?" Rheana asked, sitting beside Tamlin, the book he had given her in her hand, she didn't miss how much taller she was than him, although it fed her ego, he too would one day hit puberty and skyrocket in height, just how Rhysand had, just how Azriel and Cassian had. The males were training and she had stopped just for a moment, covering in sweat, her leathers sticking to her

Tamlin turned to her, flinching slightly at her wide endless violet eyes, he frowned, flashing his beast-like eyes at her, but she smiled in fascination at him changing parts of his body, changing back to green after a moment, "Well yes, that is Spring magic."

"Nice..." Rheana nodded along, eyes on a few dandelions growing along the field they were in, "Could you multiply them, then?"

Tamlin pressed his palm on the ground, "Sure," his body hummed with magic as the dandelions multiplied in the soil. Rheana smiled, she could feel his magic in the ground from her bare feet that were in contact with the ground.

Rheana was fascinated, "That's so amazing..." She whispered in awe, seeing another form of magic work.

"Rheana, you're next!" A voice called, Rheana and Tamlin looked up, an Illyrian male was in the rink, and Rheana got up.

"Are you sure you can take him, Rhea?" Tamlin whispered, Rheana knew it was just concern, not him being condescending, since the male in question was almost twice as big as both of them combined.

Rheana was fast in adjusting her clothes, turning to Tamlin with a smile, "Well, you don't really grow if you pick fights you know you can win, do you?"

As she reached the rink, Cassian and Azriel were cheering for her, she extended her wings out, bigger than what most had, as many females did, and her eyes landed on a young female behind the rink, she was working on dishes, she smiled at the female her age, but frowned instantly when she didn't earn a smile back.

For a moment her eyes were black after she turned to focus on the Illyrian male, taking the male by surprise, with a gasp and a surge of power her eyes returned to normal. The Illyrians whispering about her.

Strega oscura, the Illyrian called her, "Dark witch". Rheana stood in Windhaven, hair braided tightly, in training leathers, the war camp still looked the same after five centuries, just minor changes that would go amiss at first glance, the first of which was the ban on wing clipping, and then the laws that allowed females to take over family businesses, among many other things that Rhysand and Rheana had done to make the lives of females better in all of Illyria.

Till now things were moving slowly, the males didn't wish to train the females so Reana had taken it upon herself to do so, some families still believed in clipping their females, and Rheana wished to make it stop.

She smiled at a young child, and the young female smiled back wide, putting the clothes away as she rushed for Rheana. The half-Illyrian was soon surrounded by the females she trained.

"You're back," Elira smiled, one of her oldest friends, the mother of the female she looked at, "Drita always misses you."

"I already come at the crack of dawn, do I need to show up earlier for you, huh, little warrior?" Rheana smiled at the female who was smiling and looking up at her.

Drita, the female barely ten nodded, almost jumping up and down, "Look, I can punch properly now!" Rheana chuckled as Drita dragged her to one of the training dummies, she watched the child stand in the proper stance.

"Kness bend, weight between both legs," Rheana almost laughed, watching Driti repeat what she had taught, landing a perfect punch on the dummy.

Rheana smiled applauding the female's punch, "Good, that's the first thing down now." There was pride in her tone that made some other young females jump to prove their punches worth her praise.

Rheana walked in a circle, correcting any missed steps that happened, "Give me 60," She said to those who landed a perfect hit.

Rheana watched them work, she could feel Devlon's glare on her too, but there was nothing he could say to stop her, her word was more powerful than his.

"Again!" She ordered one of the females who misstepped, "Watch your back leg."

"And you old females don't think I forgot about you." Rheana turned to the females she'd been training for decades, "Pair up," The females stood in lines in front of her, "Enter the rink one by one, Elira is the judge."

"Wait what?" Elira turned to look at Rheana in surprise.

Rheana nodded, "Yes, you, my brother has called me for a meeting today, so we don't have as many hours today, I want to focus on the faelings. You females are doing plently good on your own, if you have doubts clear them with me." Rheana smiled at her friend, the female she had befriended while she was young and learning, the first person she had ever taughed, the one who showered her that she could teach others too.

"fiftey-eight, fiftey... fiftey-nine, SIXTEY!" It had then them quite long for one of the females to finish with their punches, they would mess up at times and Rheana would tell them to restart court.

"We did it, miss Rhea..." One of her younger students raised a tumb up in her direction, breathing heavy. Rheana laughed at some of them leaning against the dummies that were punching.

"Good. Rest up then we move to legs." Even if they whined about how she was torturing them, Rheana knew the young Illyrian females liked it, especially when their male counterparts were being taught the same.

Rheana stood in the House of Winds balcony of her room, looking down at Velaris, eyes on the star-like lights of the city of Starlight. She was wearing a pair of comfortable leggings and a simple top, hair open, waving slightly from the tight coils they had been in earlier, she had just returned from Windhaven and Ironcroft, and Kallos stalked around her room, rubbing against her leg.

The wall in her room still had the map of Prythian on it, and in five centuries, she had filled it in pretty well, and visited most places in the world, the only ones that remained spotless were Spring and Autumn.

She had marked the Spring palace on her map when she had brought Feyre from there, despite how she felt for their High Lord, visiting the Court for the first time. Spring was a beautiful place, just like she'd been imagining it to be.

The Night Court's relations with Autumn were horrible at best, Rhysand rarely did business with them, and Rheana didn't mind not going to that place, none of her family could stand Beron nor Eris for how they had left her sister to die until Azriel found her while he was spying on them.

Azriel stepped through the shadows of her room, making her turn on her heel and pin him against the wall, her violet eyes completely black, darkness seeping from her skin, his shadows melting into her darkness, "You shouldn't try to sneak up on me, Azriel."

"One day, I'll manage to," Azriel choked out with a laugh, rubbing a hand over his throat when she let him go. He smiled, "I'm here to bring you to dinner."

"Rhys is coming," Rheana nodded, Rhysand had slipped into her mind to tell her of it, "He's bringing Feyre."

Azriel nodded to the door, walking in front of her, "So, how are things in the camps?"

"It's wonderful, the females are really learning fast." She gave him a smile, going down the floors to the main halls, "And I love teaching them."

"I heard from Cassian you're giving the males a hell of a time." Azriel smirked, "I would love to see you put them on the ground over and over again."

"Well, you could always join." Rheana offered, "I'm sure they would love a few more nice males around."

They reached down just in time for Feyre to walk in beside Rhysand, the three of them could feel Feyre's discomfort when Cassian decided to break the tension, "Come on, Feyre. We don't bite. Unless you ask us to."

Rheana barely covered her chuckle when Rhysand retorted, "The last I heard, Cassian, no one has ever taken you up on that offer." But Azriel didn't feel the need to cover the snorting.

"Welcome to the House, Feyre." Rheana smiled, hoping to soothe her.

"Rheana," Feyre walked to her, and behind her, Rhysand smiled watching them, "Oh, thank god, I know someone here."

Rheana gave Feyre a comforting look as Feyre stood by her side, moving to hug her half way. Rheana accepted the hug, arms around the Cursebreaker's shoulders as she wrapped hers around Rheana's waist, standing with little distance between them. Thank you for saving me, Feyre opened her mind to say.

"It's good to see you up, Feyre." Rheana pulled away from the hug, "Also, it's nice to have another female around. Mor and I were nearly done with these males."

Rhysand and Cassian started to talk over each other, while Azriel just rolled his eyes at her comment

{General Taglist- @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

{Flames and Darkness Taglist- @anuttellaa @tuggboatfishin @inloveallthetime}

[gccdstories]

Azriel exhaled, waiting for his father to snap back. To correct him or something else. Sebastian only tilted his head, stepping back.

"You're not going to give me a lecture on how wrong I am?"

Sebastian shrugged, slid his hands in his pockets. Azriel noted his movements were jerky, stiff. Odd.

"You seem to see things well, those shadows of yours don't lie so what can I say to counteract it?"

He turned and winnowed away. Azriel gritted his teeth, why did his victory still feel hollow?

He turned away from where his father had stood, moving to falling back into with Rhysand and Cassian.

Perhaps the war camps were worth it, it had give him enough courage to say his things.

------

Sebastian slipped down and down, his mind filling with noise. He'd done everything he could be to not have his sons have this opinion on him.

Had he not done enough?

Did the others think the same thing?

He stopped in front of the tavern, the music tugging at him. He stepped toward it, gritting his teeth.

Aelin and Aedion were still young enough to need him, they had routines.

He should go home.

He walked inside, ordering a drink and another.

He got home enough, put them to sleep.

He should stay up for Natalia's message.

But he didn't have the energy for it. She was probably too busy to remember anyway.

Lumnos was reeling with an unknown Queen. His head spun, he should sleep this off.

*I'm tired, talk you to you tomorrow. Love you*

The words felt hollow even as he ascribed them to appear on her mirror in her suite.

He didn't have the energy to change it.

Maybe some sleep would help.

@siderealxmelody

Azriel thought little else of the matter as he went with Rhys and Cassian for the rest of the night. While it hadn't quite gone like he'd thought it would-- he'd thought his father might have said something, argued with him or tried to explain away his actions, perhaps--

It made him confused for a bit, at first, but Azriel quickly put it out of his mind.

Focused instead on spending time with his friends...

~

Natalia didn't like spending so long away from him, from any of them. And she had hoped the evening would have ended far sooner than it had, as the night had gone on... and on... and on. Exhaustion weighed down on her shoulders as she made it to the rooms set aside for her, but she hoped to at least speak with her mate.

Hearing Sebastian's voice was one of the small things that helped keep her sane--even if she'd not outright say so. It'd only make his ego grow, and Natalia was not about to do that.

But she frowned, seeing the message. While nothing immediately told her anything was wrong, it was... short. Brief. And there was a tickle in the back of her mind that told her there might be more than what Sebastian had revealed.

Of course, she was tired, too. Exhaustion hit them all at times, so maybe she could... let him sleep tonight. Maybe she would too. It wasn't like there was urgent news that needed discussing right this very moment.

I hope you sleep well, my love, Natalia whispered softly down the bond, in case slumber had already claimed him. Dark shadows slipped through their connection, a cool touch in his mind. I hope to return soon... I miss you, Sebastian.

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Deck My Halls

Nesta Archeron x Cassian

Nesta and Cassian decorate for the Holidays. Excessive amounts of fluff.

Written for @talkfantasytome for ACOTAR Secret Santa @acotarsecretsanta. Happy Holidays! 🎄🎁 Prompts: “There's something missing when you're not here with me.” & “We need to stop dancing around it. All it's doing is hurting us both.”

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Wintery Collection

Warnings: Language, Very Light NSFW

3429 words

*******

“I hope you’re in the holiday spirit, sweetheart, ‘cause I just picked out the perfect tree,” Cassian told Nesta confidently, holding his phone between his head and his shoulder. He had just finished buying the soft, sweetly scented tree and was attempting to attach it to the roof of his truck.

It was large—a few feet taller than him, and once it settled and the branches leveled out he guessed it would be wider than him, too. A feat in itself because, as his girlfriend often said, he was built like a tank. She loved it. He loved that she loved it.

It had been his thoughts of Nesta standing in front of this tree and helping him decorate it, that ultimately made his decision to buy it.

“Really?” She teased. “You finally found one that lived up to your standards after scouring that shop for over an hour?”

Cassian grinned, he loved hearing Nesta’s easy-going words, despite being on the receiving end of her teasing. Not just anyone had the privilege of seeing—or in this case, hearing—her joke around.

“Picking out the right tree is an art form, Nes. It takes a calculating eye and patience.” He explained as he knotted the rope around the tree.

She snorted. “Then how did you manage it on your own?”

“You’re hilarious.” He deadpanned, rolling his eyes. “A real comedian.”

Huffing a laugh, she replied, “Well then see, I told you I didn't need to go with you. You figured it out all by yourself” She said again in that teasing tone, but she sounded a bit distracted, and he could hear papers shuffling in the background.

“Sure, but Nes, there's something missing when you're not here with me." He groaned into the phone he struggled to keep it pressed between his shoulder and his ear.

Cassian grinned again as he heard her sigh over the speaker and mutter something along the lines of romantic bastard. He chose to ignore the insult and focus on the exasperated fondness of her words instead.

“That I am.” He chuckled as he finished tying the tree to the roof of his truck, cracking the stiffness out of his neck from keeping the phone in place. He grabbed it in his other hand and brought it back towards his ear. “But I stand by what I said.”

She huffed, but Cassian knew she’d be trying not to smile. “You saw me a few hours ago.”

“So?” He got into the car, turned the heat up all the way, and pulled out of the parking lot. “You could’ve come with me to pick up the tree. I know how much you love watching me lift heavy things.”

Nesta scoffed, the speaker doing nothing to lessen the mocking sound of it. “I get enough of that with you and your ego.”

His laugh filled the car as he drove back towards his apartment.

“And you know that I need to finish editing this manuscript by this afternoon,” She replied, and Cassian could just make out the sound of her nails tapping away at her keyboard.

“Fine, get back to being a boss babe so you can finish and come over.”

The typing stopped. “Please don’t ever call me that.”

He huffed a laugh, picturing the way her lips were probably pursed in distaste and brows furrowed as she gave her phone her full attention. “But you are.”

“Sure, Cass,” she said in that sharp voice of hers. “And I’m also planning on coming over to your place once I’m done, but if you call me that again then I’ll spend my night with a glass of wine and a hallmark movie instead.”

He rolled his eyes at the empty threat. “Please. Like you would rather spend your night watching a movie about a hunky holiday guy when you have your very own just a short drive away.”

Her silent pause made his grin grow wider.

“I also have wine.” He added unnecessarily. She knew he had bottles of wine at his place because he’d made sure to always have her favorite on hand. “And Christmas cookies. And a tree that needs decorating.”

The sigh she let out was half exasperated, half amused. “Then you’d better let me get back to work if you want to see me anytime soon.”

He chuckled. “Text me when you leave; the roads are icy and it’s starting to snow.”

She hummed in confirmation. “I will.”

“See you soon, Sweetheart.”

As soon as Cassian hung up the call, he turned on his holiday music and belted out the lyrics to Jingle Bell Rock all the way home.

***

Not two hours later, Cassian had managed to get the tree up to his third-floor apartment—if the stairwell was littered with pine needles, well, he had no idea how that could’ve possibly happened. He’d secured it in the stand and made sure it was filled to the brim with water. Then he went down to his storage space and brought up massive bins filled with tree decorations. He had decorated the rest of his apartment as soon as he and Nesta had returned from their Thanksgiving dinner with their friends.

After pulling out all the lights, ornaments, and garland, he set to work on the next important task. Cassian preheated the oven before grabbing the box of holiday-themed cookie dough and placing them on a tray so they’d be ready as soon as the oven was.

It was then that his phone buzzed with a text from 🥵HBIC😍 that read,

>> Just finished editing. I swear some of these authors wouldn’t know a three-dimensional character if one materialized in front of them. I’ll be over in fifteen.

Cassian huffed a laugh, but before he could respond the oven beeper went off. He put the cookies in and when he grabbed his phone again, a second message from Nesta was underneath the first.

>> Please tell me that you weren’t lying about the wine and cookies.

He grinned as he hopped up onto the counter and wrote back,

<< Those are two things I’d never lie about, sweetheart. There’s a glass with your name on it, and the cookies are already in the oven.

The three dots sprung up on her side of the text chain before she sent,

>> I love you.

His grin softened as he repeated her words back to her and added a note to drive safe. Then Cassian busied himself with untangling the Christmas lights as he waited to either hear the oven beep or his girlfriend’s key in the door.

***

Even before Nesta stood in front of Cassian’s door, she could hear the faint sounds of Christmas music echoing through the hall. Shaking her head, she stifled a smile as she pulled out the key he had given her a few months ago, and hoped none of his neighbors were bothered by the music.

Nesta carefully set her bag down on the bench near the door and hung up her coat of the hook above it. It was like walking into a holiday store. She immediately took in the massive tree in the corner of the room, the piles of lights, and the organized ornaments on the coffee table and couch. Nesta also smelled sugar cookies baking and was hit by the full volume of the music blaring from the speakers on the kitchen island.

Cassian, who hadn’t heard her come in, was belting along to Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You. Nesta smirked as she leaned against the wall and watched as her boyfriend used one of the decorative candy canes as a microphone.

“'Cause I just want you here tonight,” He sang, “Holding on to me so tight.”

Cassian spun around, eyes closed and fully engrossed in his performance. Nesta couldn’t hold back any longer and a laugh escaped her, a smile stretching across her face as Cassian’s eyes flew open, startled. His momentary shock quickly dissolved, and he stalked across the living room, his eyes lighting up as he looked at her.

“What more can I do?”

When he stood right in front of her, Nesta craned her neck up to look at him. He smirked as his large hands wrapped around her hips and pulled her against him. Her hands landed on his chest as he dipped his face down and sang directly to her, “Oh, baby, all I want for Christmas is you. You, baby.”

Then he was kissing her. Nesta snaked her hands up around his neck as his fell down to her ass, giving a light squeeze before they pulled apart. With his arms still around her, he offered her a crooked smile that showed off one of his dimples. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Mmm, me too. How could I miss being serenaded with Mariah Carey?” she quirked a brow as her fingers tangled in the long tresses at the base of his neck.

Cassian snorted, “That better not be the only reason, ‘cause you’re only getting that show once.”

“Of course not,” she told him, pulling back and saying in all seriousness, “I’m here for the cookies. And the wine.”

He rolled his eyes but huffed a laugh as he unwound his arms from her waist. Before he could get too far, Nesta gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him back down for one more bruising kiss. When she pulled away, she wore a soft smile reserved only for him. “Hi.”

Cassian pressed one more soft kiss to her forehead, murmuring, “Hi.”

He stepped back taking hold of her hand and pulling her into the living room as he pointed out all the organized piles. She listened as he showed her the different sets of lights, the multitude of ornaments, and the varying strands of shimmery garland.

“I’ve got something else for you, sweetheart.” He grinned at her in that way that made her think he was up to something. He reached around the side of the sofa and presented her with…a pajama set? “These are for you.”

And that’s when she noticed his pajamas—bright red with little cartoon snowmen and Christmas elves, interspersed with snowflakes and reindeer—a matching pair to the ones he was holding out to her. She snorted, and asked drily “Really?”

The smirk he wore only grew as he dropped them into her arms. “Hey, you’re more than welcome to forgo the pajamas entirely.” He winked. “but I gotta insist you change out of your work clothes. You can’t be hanging ornaments in jeans.”

“Says who?” Nesta rolled her eyes but looked at the soft clothes now in her hands and felt the constriction of her denim more than she had a second ago.

“Says me, the guy who’s baking you Christmas cookies.”

She felt her lips quirk up involuntarily. “These look ridiculous.” But she was already walking towards his room to change.

“Like I said,” he grinned and followed her, “you don’t have to wear them. I think I still have a few bows for wrapping in there,” he jerked his head behind her towards his room and winked. “You could just put on a couple of those instead.”

When she crossed the threshold to his room, Nesta spun on her heel and smirked, arching one perfect brow. “You’ll have to wait until Christmas morning to unwrap me.” She said smoothly, winking at him and shutting the door in his slack-jawed face.

“Nes.” He called through the door. “I really hope you’re joking. Nes, that’s like two weeks away.”

Her laughter echoed in the room and despite himself, he smiled at the sound. He was still leaning against the door frame when Nesta emerged a minute later, donning the same pajamas he was wearing, albeit making them look far more appealing on her.

She hummed, “We’ll see.” The twinkle of amusement in her eye softened the threat. She tried walking past him, but his hand encircled her wrist, pulling her so her back was pressed up against him.

“You wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me for that long.” He breathed into her ear as his arms snaked around her waist.

When she chuckled, it sounded breathier than she intended. “You’re the one who can’t seem to keep their hands to themselves.” She wasn’t wrong. One of his large hands trailed up her torso, barely grazing the underside of her breast.

“Can you blame me?” he asked, sliding his hand back down her side as the other drifted lower and drew light circles on her thigh. “You’re making those pajamas look like they should be on a runway.”

Nesta snorted but her breath caught as his hands kept moving. Before he could touch anywhere too exciting, however, the oven beeped loudly and made them both startle.

“Damn oven,” he muttered nuzzling his face into the side of Nesta’s neck.

“Uh uh, stop that.” She untangled his arms from around her but kept one hand in hers as she walked them to the kitchen. “You promised me cookies.”

Cassian groaned but followed his girlfriend towards the sweet smell of sugar cookies. “Yes, ma’am.”

It didn’t take long for them to eat half the batch of snowmen-covered cookies, keeping the rest as a treat for once the decorating was done. As Nesta poured herself a glass of wine and Cassian a glass of whiskey, her boyfriend made sure his holiday playlist restarted from the beginning, arguing that they need the full ambiance bestowed by the music to properly decorate.

She helped Cassian encircle the tree with lights, standing on the opposite side as they passed the string back and forth, wrapping it up until the branches glowed in the soft light. During that time, and while they did the same with the shimmery golden garland, Cassian pointed out each ornament he’d laid out and explained their significance.

“This one,” he told her, carefully holding up a pair of cloth bat wings that looked like they had seen their fair share of Christmases, “is from the first Christmas after Rhys’ mom took Az and I in. She gave one of these to each of us.” Nesta stood behind Cassian with her arms wrapped around his middle as she tilted her head to look over his bicep. He flipped the ornament over and she ran her fingers over the stitched C on the back. “It was my first ornament.”

She was quiet for a moment, her fingers still on the cloth, before saying softly, “It looks like it was made with love.”

Cassian’s hand squeezed hers where it rested on his stomach. “It was.”

After he placed the bat wings back down on the table, Nesta moved to the other side and pointed to an ornament that looked very expensive—and very broken. The once spherical bulb had a large, jagged hole in the bottom. Lifting it up, she raised a brow in silent question. When Cassian noticed what she held and her expression he choked on a laugh.

“What’s this one?” She asked, careful not to cut herself as she twisted the broken bulb.

His grin widened and some of the heaviness that had just been in his eyes faded as he laughed. “That one I was forced to buy after it accidentally broke on Az’s head.”

Nesta blinked. “After it broke on Az’s—” she leveled him an unimpressed look. “You threw it at his head, didn’t you?”

His roguish grin was all the confirmation she needed, and Nesta rolled her eyes as she set the ornament back down.

“In my defense, he threw one at me first.”

She snorted. “And did he have to buy a broken ornament too?”

Cassian scoffed, reorganizing the table to clear the couch of ornaments, giving them a place to sit down. “No. No one saw him throw it.”

Pressing her lips together, Nesta tried to keep a straight face but eventually couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up at the image of Cassian and Azriel having an impromptu ornament fight in the middle of some store.

They took a break from decorating as Underneath the Tree by Kelly Clarkson began playing. Cassian pulled Nesta close and began singing horribly off-tune, grinning as she snorted at his terrible rendition of the song. It was hard to dance much, given that most of the floor was covered in boxes and ornaments, but they made it work.

Even as Cassian spun Nesta out she had to hop on her toes to avoid crunching an old set of burnt-out lights. And when he pulled her back in and dipped her, he had to shift them so her head wouldn’t hit the wrapping paper rolls hanging off the side of the sofa.

At some point, the music turned from a fast, poppy song to a slow, old-fashioned one.

Nesta rested her head on Cassian’s broad chest as one of his hands pressed against the small of her back and the other held her hand in his as they slowed their dancing to a steady sway.

They tried their best to keep moving, but with each step, they were trying not to crush or snag any of the decorations littering the floor. They jerked as Cassian brushed into the side of the tree, his neck getting scraped with the soft needles. By the end of the next song, they both had marks from the tree on their skin, and stubbed toes from the boxes on the ground. Yet, neither wanted to ruin the peaceful moment they’d created.

Nesta winced as another prickly branch scratched her face as they tried to avoid a particular set of ornaments on the floor. They kept swaying in time with the music. When Cassian moved a little too far to the right and scrapped his entire forearm against one of the tough branches, Nesta finally stopped him and huffed, “We need to stop dancing around it." She narrowed her eyes at the offending tree, the lights and tinseled garland making it shimmer. “All it's doing is hurting us both." She finished, eyeing the fading red marks on Cassian’s skin.

He reached his hand up to brush along her check, directly over the spot where she’d been scratched. “Who’d have thought a Christmas tree could be so dangerous?” he mused.

Snorting, Nesta pulled away and took a few steps closer to the couch. Cassian was paying too much attention to her as he followed to notice the long, heavy bin jutting out from underneath an empty box of lights. He lost his footing, stumbling forward, grabbing hold of Nesta in time to twist them around so that he wouldn’t crush her, landing on his back against the sofa cushions with Nesta on top of him.

They stared at each other for a second before they both started laughing.

“You can’t keep your hands off me for two seconds.” She teased, scooting up his body to place a chaste kiss on his collar bone.

“Why would I want to?” he asked incredulously, pulling her flush against him as he rested his hands on her round backside, squeezing for good measure.

“Good question.” She admitted, brushing her lips against his.

Dozens of ornaments, a couple of glasses of liquor, and a few handsy detours later, they had finished decorating the tree. All that was left was the star.

“Here, you put this on.” She handed him the tree topper. “I can’t reach that high.”

“I have a better idea,” Cassian argued, giving the star back to Nesta. He squatted down and wrapped his arms around her thighs, keeping her close to his body as he lifted her up above him, and laughing at her surprised yelp as her free hand flew to his shoulder to steady herself.

“Gods,” she muttered, turning her torso towards the tree, “give me some warning before you do that.”

His response was to unwind one of his arms and land a smack on her ass as he smirked into her chest.

She grumbled something along the lines of brute, but she reached up and placed the golden star on the top of the tree and patted his shoulder. “Done.”

Unsurprisingly, he took his time slowly letting her go, allowing gravity to slide her down his body. As her toes touched the floor Nesta couldn’t stop the small grin on her face. “Merry Christmas, Cassian,” she whispered.

“Merry Christmas, Nesta,” he breathed, dipping his head and smiling into the soft kiss as the smell of pine and sugar cookies floated in the air.

*****

Special shout out to everyone who helped with Nesta's contact name, all your suggestions were fantastic

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