#ch. cassius fulgora.

[literatetm]

@mapofthesoulx​

“  now,  now,  lucius . . .  we  know  you’re  a  master  charmer,  but  i  can’t  guarantee  that  you  wouldn’t  be  met  with  a  sword  up  your  ass  if  you  try  that  again.  ”

[stormscngs]

NEC ASPERA TERRENT — cassius & ada: war and wisdom edition for @chaghansuren​ 

let your plans be as dark and impenetrable as the night and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt  — sun tzu.

ft. quote credits & playlist

[crownofwishes]

5 TIMES | CASADA.

five times they were not friends and one time they were.

i. the first time they meet, she’s six and he’s just turned seven. gisèle introduces him as her new best friend.

he’s tall for his age, oozing pride like armour as he towers over ada. he grins like victory, all feral arrogance like even at age seven he knows he was born to wear the crown.

ada instantly dislikes him. gisèle only has one best friend and that’s her.

ii. they’re fifteen next and cassius has just tossed a pen at her from halfway across the room. the one he stole from her two terms ago. the one he promised she’d get back. the one she was starting to think she’d never see again.

ada catches the pen, just. his accuracy is alarming.

he lounges back in his chair, throwing her a smug look.

“see? told you i always keep my promises.”  

ada’s lips curl. “consider trying to keep your brain cells instead. not like you have many left to lose.”

he merely grins.

ada doesn’t understand what gisèle sees in him.

iii. eighteen and ada’s alone for the first time since she met gisèle as a child. the distance is good for them, she knows. healthy. and gisèle is only a skype call away, after all. it’s not like she’s gone. but ada hates it all the same.

she never appreciated gisèle’s extra height while she had it. the book ada wants is a shelf too high and the library’s stool is conveniently not here. she sighs.

“heels not high enough, greengrass? need a hand?”

ada turns to see cassius leaning against the bookshelf, looking smugly amused as ever. she sighs again. of people, in all places, of all the times, it just had to be him.

she grabs the nearest book off the shelf. “not necessary,” she says, her words curt. she brushes past him, ignoring his knowing look. 

when she eventually returns to her desk in the library, the book she’d wanted is there. there‘s no note, but ada doesn’t need one to know how the book got there.

they aren’t friends, no. but, maybe, she’s not alone either.

iv. twenty two and he’s sliding her food across the table, giving her a look she’s come to know well. a cross between exasperated and amused, irritated and maybe just a little fond.

“unsure if you’re aware,” cassius begins, not asking before taking the seat opposite her, “but the meaning of group project does require both parties to, you know, actually be alive? i’m not failing this because someone forgot about dinner. and lunch. and no, coffee doesn’t count as breakfast either.”

ada bites back a smile, making a mental note that next time, she owes him dinner.

the next morning she slides into the desk next to his. she doesn’t look at him when she passes him a coffee ( made exactly how he likes it ), but she sees his knowing smirk all the same.

maybe they’re not friends, but they’re not not friends either.

v. “happy birthday, fulgora.” ada slides a nearly wrapped package across the table. “may age finally bring you wisdom.”

cassius snorts, though he looks pleased, taking the present curiously. the packaging is plain. there’s no ribbon, no birthday card. nothing to suggest ada might’ve gone out of her way to remember his birthday. nothing except the fact she’d text him that morning to meet for coffee — outside of their usual schedule — and when he’d arrived she’d passed him a gift.  

ada watches as he carefully undoes the wrappings. “apparently swords are against university policy — something about them being ‘sharp’ and ‘dangerous’.” cassius makes an indignant sound. “so the actual sword might have to wait until christmas. until then, have this.”

he unwraps it eagerly. it was a bookmark in the same colours as the rare edition of the art of war she’d gotten him last year. shaped like a sword, the hilt had a string on the end you could drape over the spine so the bookmark didn’t fall out. inscribed on it was their favourite quote.

let your plans be as impenetrable as the night and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.

twenty five and neither of them would ever use the word friends, but they have a weekly scheduled coffee date and this is the third year in a row ada’s brought cassius a birthday present. he looks at her pleased. ada can’t bring herself to be annoyed that he’s also a little bit smug.

vi. they’re 28 and ada can’t hide her smile when cassius approaches her. she’s dressed in white and he’s in his suit, looking sharper than ada had ever seen him. he stops to give her a mocking bow, but he’s grinning too.

“may i have this dance?”

“my schedule’s rather busy,” she says, pretending to think on it. cassius merely gives her an amused look. they’ve played this game too many times before. she continues, accepting cassius’ offered arm, “but i suppose i can always make time for you.”

tobias presses a soft kiss to her temple as she disentangles herself from him, allowing cassius to lead her to the dance floor.

“congratulations, greengrass — my apologies,” cassius smirks, “mrs nott. it only took forever for you to realise you were actually in love with nott, but you got here eventually. you’re welcome for that, by the way.”

“remind me why i invited you, again?”

cassius just laughs. when he spins her around, ada can’t help but laugh too.

it might’ve taken cassius and ada a while to get here too, but ada knows there’s no where else either of them would rather be right now than here.

[illiteratetm]

“Sometimes it’s hard to see the lines you’ve drawn until you’ve crossed them.”

[trashforliza-blog]

“Ever thought of the afterlife?”

[literatetm]

@illiteratetm​

“  don’t  ignore  me.  ”

[literatetm]

@ciel1x1s​

“  a  penny  for  your  thoughts,  moon;  if  i  love  you,  is  that  a  fact  or  a  weapon?  ”

[crownofwishes]

we will carry on + casada

“I can’t breathe, I can’t –” | roman demigods cassius & ada for @bloodplums

The sharp brick of the wall dug hard into Ada’s back, but she barely noticed. Gods knew she looked weak, clutching the wall like it was the only thing keeping her standing, lungs aching with the effort to remember to breathe. Ada felt sick. She was a far cry from the Praetor who, just hours earlier, had triumphantly led Camp Jupiter into battle. She hadn’t even changed her clothes. Or what was left of them, anyway, after the blood and dirt was removed.

They’d won — of course they’d won. Ada and Cassius has spent too many months planning to accept anything less than victory. They had made history, the brilliant Praetor and her formidable general. Favourites of the Gods.

The praise tasted bitter in her mouth. Ada didn’t particularly feel like a favourite. She didn’t particularly feel brilliant.

She was pathetic.

Ada dug her nails into her palms.

She was useless.

Her mind was useless. What good was her mind, when it was Gisèle’s body fighting for her life and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it? What good was always having a plan, always being in control, when she had never planned for the possibility of this?

Ada choked, feeling the nausea rise up in her throat. She would have bruises, tomorrow, from how hard she was pressed against the wall.

“ I can’t breathe, I can’t —“

Then Cassius was there, reaching out to steady her. His fingers were bruising on her wrists as he pulled her upright. His jaw tightened when he saw the little red wounds on her palms. Ada hadn’t even noticed.

“Greengrass, listen to me.” Cassius was fierce, unyeilding, leaning down until she was forced to meet his gaze. Ada didn’t have the energy to care how weak she must have looked to him. “She’s going to be just fucking fine. Parkingson’s too fucking spiteful to let a little thing like a fucking stab wound be the end of her. She’ll be back to fucking Matheson in your cabin in no time, making you wish you’d killed her yourself. Trust me, yeah? Besides,” he added, throwing her a grin. It felt hollow, even to Ada. “I think the Gods fucking owe us this one.”  

His fingers dug into her wrists as he spoke, as if saying the words out loud was more than a desperate plea to whatever God was listening, as if to say you owe us, you fucks, as if they would listen, as if they would care.

They would care for the destruction Cassius would rage if Gisèle didn’t make it. They would care for their entertainment, their blood sport. They would care for what Ada and Cassius would do when they captured the one that did it. Maybe they’d even be there, fuelling their rage. But not one of them would care if Gisèle lived or died.

Ada gripped his wrists, half afraid she’d collapse if Cassius let go. He wouldn’t let go, though. She knew that.

She choked a laugh, every bit as hollow as his empty grin had been. But that was what they did, wasn’t it? Pretended everything was fine, because if they didn’t, they’d fall apart and if they fell apart then the Camp would fall with them. If they fell apart, Ada wasn’t sure they could be put back together.

Ada trusted Cassius, maybe more than she trusted anyone, but she couldn’t trust him on this. Oh, she knew she could trust him with war. If anything were to happen to Gisèle,  Ada knew the destruction he’d wage would be devestating, because Ada would be right there waging war with him. He was her General for a reason.

But neither of them had ever been any good at saving lives. Gisèle had nearly died, could still die, because Ada hadn’t been smart enough. Her plan hadn’t been good enough. She hadn’t been good enough.

“It should’ve been me.”

Ada hadn’t meant to say that out loud — not to Cassius, not to anyone. Especially not to Cassius. But the words slipped out, raw and angry and selfish regardless of what she wanted. Ada wrenched herself out of Cassius’ grip. So much for always being in control of her emotions.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Cassius hissed. “Don’t pull that bullshit with me.”

“Bullshit?” Ada whirled back to face him. “It’s my fault she’s - she’s —,” she choked on the words. “She took that knife for me.”

“Yeah, and?” Cassius snapped back, fists clenching at his side. He towered over her, so close she thought he might reach out and shake this out of her. “Anyone in the camp would’ve taken it for you. I would’ve taken it for you. Fuck, I wish it was me. You’re our fucking Praetor, Greengrass. What did you expect she would do? Watch her best friend die? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Cassius glared. Ada dug her nails deeper, squeezing her eyes shut.

No, of course not. There was no universe where Gisèle wouldn’t take a knife for her. Where Cassius wouldn’t. Where Ada wouldn’t for either of them. The thought was ridiculous.

“I can’t lose her, Cassius,” Ada said, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “I can’t.”

“You won’t,” he said with such fierce conviction Ada almost believed him. Almost didn’t hear the unspoken, I can’t lose her either. She was his best friend too. If anyone could make that promise real through sheer force of will alone, it would be Cassius. The thought almost made her smile.

“Now get up.” Cassius stepped back, reaching out his hand to pull her up. “You and me still have a couple of motherfucking monsters to kill and these plans won’t mastermind themselves. Camp Jupiter needs its Praetor.”

He glanced her over, taking in her bloody clothes and dirt streaked hair — it had long since fallen out of its braid —, a ghost of a smirk on his face that had Ada immediately wary. “Oh, and Ada? Take a fucking shower.”

[crownofwishes]

figure skating au + casada

in which cassius and ada still aren’t friends | cassius fulgora & ada greengrass for @chaghansuren

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

“Why would I be trying to bribe you?”

“No fucking idea — you’re the one trying to bribe me.”

Ada put the bag of Chinese takeout on the table, shooting Cassius a withering glare. “Can’t I just bring my client dinner without having ulterior motives?” 

“You don’t know the meaning of without ulterior motives.”

“Maybe I just wanted to do something nice?”

Cassius didn’t dignify that with a response. 

Ada pursed her lips. “Just eat the damn food, Fulgora. It’s not personal. Or poisoned,” she added, noting his suspicious look.

“Personal is the fucking definition of bribery, Greengrass,” Cassius drawled. He peered into the bag, not looking remotely convinced by her assurances about the safety of the food. Then he shrugged, apparently willing to risk it.

Ada waved him off. “Focus, Fulgora. You have your first press conference in 15 minutes and they are going to ask you if Gisèle broke up with Matheson because of you. You’re better with stupid questions after food, so hurry up and eat.”

Cassius paused, chopsticks midway to his mouth. “I thought the rumour was we were dating?”

“I imagine Gisèle shouting something along the lines of and Fulgora has a bigger dick than you when she threw the ring back in Matheson’s face has something to do with it,” Ada said dryly, taking the seat next to Cassius. 

Cassius choked. “Fucking Gisèle,” he muttered, shoulders shaking with laughter. “She’s not wrong though, my dick is bigger.”

Ada pulled a face. “Do not say that in your interview.”

“What if they ask?” Cassius threw up his hands as if to say, what am I supposed to do? “You told me not to lie to reporters because they’re invasive pests and work out the truth eventually.”

“They’re not going to ask about who has the bigger dick.”

“They might.”

Ada gave him a hard look. “Don’t be an arsehole, Fulgora.”

“Fuck you. I am the fucking epitome of politeness.” 

“The epitome,” she repeated dryly.

“The epitome,” he agreed, speaking through a mouthful of food. 

Ada didn’t bother responding.

Cassius swallowed his mouthful, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand. “So, Greengrass,” he said in a tone that immediately made Ada wary, “you expect me to believe you went all the fucking way to the other side of fucking town, which is at least a half hour out of your way, to my favourite takeout place, getting my favourite food, for what reason? Because you fucking felt like it? Because I have pressers today and didn’t have time to get food? You could’ve gotten me food from the shitty little place two doors down if that was all you wanted.”

Ada met his gaze evenly. “Oh, this is your favourite? I had no idea.” Ada shrugged, nonchalant. “I passed it on my way home last night and thought it looked nice. As I said, you’re more tolerable after food.”

Cassius scoffed. Ada raised a brow, daring him to contradict her. 

He didn’t, though his expression told her all she needed to know about how convincing she was.

Contrary to whatever it was Cassius Fulgora thought he was implying, Ada didn’t do things out of the goodness of her heart. She knew how this game worked.

Ada had been Cassius’s pro-sports manager for just over a year now, and they’d fallen into an understanding. His previous manager had quit because he couldn’t handle how relentless Cassius’s ambition was, but Ada could. She knew what it was to set your sights on the stars and strive for them at any cost, to know they were your victory and refusing to settle for anything less. They were a team — even if she wanted to strangle him sometimes. 

Ada wasn’t an idiot. She knew very well that her success was inextricably tied to Cassius’s, so it was in her best interest to ensure he did succeed. If that meant going out of her way to bring him his favourite food before an important meeting or spending long nights talking strategy and ruthlessly negotiating advertising deals, enduring his smug smirks and trying her hardest not to strangle him, she would. It was a mutually beneficial partnership, nothing more.

They weren’t friends.

Even if she knew what his favourite food was and he knew exactly how she liked her coffee in the morning and they had their partnership down to an art form. 

Cassius smirked.

“So you are bribing me.”

“Eat the damn food, Fulgora,” she sighed. “I need you at your best. You didn’t have lunch and I will not have you fainting from low blood sugar at training or eating the press alive because you’re hungry.” 

Cassius snorted. “Says the woman didn’t eat breakfast or lunch and no, six cups of coffee does not count.” He gestured to the food, handing Ada a spare pair of chopsticks. “I’ll eat if you do.” 

Ada arched a brow as if to say, really?

Cassius stared her down, unrelenting.

“A normal person would’ve just said thank you,” she muttered. But she allowed him this — Cassius would sit here all day and simply wait her out if she didn’t. Sometimes, to win the war you had to lose the battle. Getting Cassius Fulgora to do what she wanted was like playing a particularly infuriating game of chess. If she was too blunt with her demands, he became as obstinate as a rock. If she was too subtle, he ignored her.

It was a delicate balance of knowing when to push, when to pull back to restrategise, and when to concede. It kept her on her toes, if nothing else, and Ada always had enjoyed a challenge. 

“I need you at your best, Ada,” Cassius mimicked, throwing her words back at her with a smug smirk. “I will not have you fainting from low blood pressure in front of the press.” 

“Oh, shut up,” she muttered, taking the proffered chopsticks. In truth, she was hungry but she wasn’t going to admit that to him. “The press conference is soon — they’ve been given strict instructions not to ask you about your so-called affair with Gisèle, but they’re definitely going to bring it up.” 

Cassius snorted. Gisèle had been his skating partner for years, and it didn’t matter that both of them were in relationships with other people, the media had assumed there was more than just being skating partners in their relationship. Encouraging the rumours had been their new favourite hobby and this was just fuel on an already chaotic fire. 

Trust Gisèle and Nate to break up in the most dramatic way possible - when the real reason for the break up was simply that they were better off as friends. It was apparently too much to ask that they break up like normal people.

Ada checked her watch and sighed. “Come on, Fulgora. Let’s go dissect your love life.” 

“And establish who has the bigger dick.”

“No.”

Cassius’s laughter followed her all the way down the hall.