#rancher!cassian

[azsazz]

In Storm

Rancher!Cassian x Reader

Summary: You want a baby and Cassian looks all too good in his flannel.

Warnings: Conversation about having a baby.

Word Count: 1,098

Notes: The Cassian era is era-inggg

_________________________________________

Rainy mornings are your favorite.

The sky cracking open and letting her feelings loose means that you get to sleep in, that your husband’s warm body holds you tightly as rain patters the windows in pretty songs. It means gentle calloused hands roaming your curves, soft breaths as he mouths against your skin. It means a slow and sensual fucking with a steaming hot bath following, where you can lean back into the comfort of Cassian and rest the day away.

But rainy mornings are not his favorite.

You find your husband standing in front of the large windows of the living room, staring out into the expanse of land you get to call yours. Yesterday’s flannel hangs loose around his broad shoulders, unbuttoned from when he’d hastily thrown it on to examine the conditions of the farm under the onslaught of rain. His hair is tousled, not yet thrown up into a haphazard bun the way he does when he works up a sweat from milking the cows or fixing the fence. His feet are bare, just as yours are, the hardwood flooring holding a chilled bite to it as you near his side.

Stepping up next to Cassian, you gaze out the window as well. The weather hadn’t called for a storm but the springtime is unpredictable. The horses graze in the pasture, seemingly unaffected by the drizzling skies. Their coats are dark with water but they’re getting on with their days as if the sun is shining brightly. 

Lightning cracks the sky and Cassian grunts, displeased. You can see it in the downwards slope of his mouth that he’s unhappy with the fact that he hadn’t brought the animals in yesterday, when he knew he smelled the metallic tang of a storm creeping in.

“They’re animals,” you try to soothe, “They should be used to it.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the stallions,” Cassian responds, not even sparing you a glance as he stares at the horses. “But my mares shouldn’t be out in this storm. Especially not Carrington. Ol’ girl can have that foal anytime now and she’s only out in the rain because you were adamant she needed ‘fresh air.’” His voice pitches at the end in a terrible impersonation of you and you scowl.

“So now it’s my fault?” you ask, incredulously. Cassian lets you sidle up to his side anyway, slipping between the opening of his flannel and his bare chest. You nearly growl with delight because he’s so warm. Turning your head, you press your lips to his pec. “You’re grumpy when it rains.”

“‘M grumpy because there’s chores that need to be done,” Cassian sighs, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I should go out there.” 

Out there looks miserable. The trail leading up to the barn is muddy, puddles of rain scattering the path. The rain has kept its steady pour since you’d come down here to find your husband, and if you think he’s grumpy now, you know he’d be absolutely miserable after working out in the rain all day.

“Or, you can stay in here and we can spend a little time together,” you drawl, trailing your fingers along his chest. His muscles clench the closer to his waistline that you get. 

His hazel gaze cuts down to yours, “Last night wasn’t enough for you?” Cassian muses, eyes sparkling in the way that you know you have him. 

“Won’t be enough for me until I look like your best girl Carrington out there, nice and full with child.” 

Cassian’s fingers still from where they’re tracing patterns on your hip. “You really want one, don’t you?” He asks softly.

You shrug. It hasn’t been something you’ve talked about much, a child. Cassian is busy running the ranch and ever since Rhysand and Feyre moved closer to the hustle and bustle of the city to raise Nyx, you haven’t had anyone to really talk to besides the mares. And they just whinny and snort at everything you say. 

“It would mean extra hands around the farm,” you try to play off, cheeks heating. You slide from his side, eager to dispel the conversation your husband surely doesn’t want to have at this very moment. Not while Carrington is getting rained on, Gods forbid. “What do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? An omelet? I just gathered the eggs yesterday morning so they’ll be nice and fresh.”

“Hey,” Cassian calls gently, snagging your hand as you try to dip away. He tugs you back to his chest, bushing some of your sleep mussed hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear so he can caress your cheek. His hazel eyes search yours, and the frown tugging his lips downward makes your heart ache. “Don’t walk away from me, sweetheart. You want a baby?”

Your eyes well with tears the longer he stares at you. His brows are pulled tight as he waits patiently for your response. The emotion in your throat is thick, but you nod, voice coming out raspy with it when you answer. “More than anything.” 

Cassian nods a little, taking in your answer. His throat bobs but he’s agreeing, nodding firmer. “Then let’s have one.” 

Your entire body locks up at his words. You didn’t think it would be so easy to convince him. All you had to do all of this time was ask? Surely, that is not the case.

But Cassian would be so wonderful with a child in his arms. He’d love them just as perfectly as he loves you, as he cares for the animals of his ranch. You’ve seen him with the foals and chicks and lambs. How he holds each one with care and parades them around the ranch, kissing their little heads and talking to them in soft voices. He’s made to be a father, even if he doesn’t know it himself.

“We’re trying to have a baby,” you breathe, clutching onto him. An all-consuming feeling rushes through your body, nerves perhaps, because holy shit, you and Cassian are going to try for a baby. “We’re trying for a baby!”

Cassian grins, mirroring your excitement. He pulls you into his arms and you lock your legs around his waist immediately, diving down to capture his mouth against yours. The kiss is exhilarating, hot and sensual as they both of you settle into the feeling that maybe this time next year, it could be you giving birth instead of Carrington.

You could not be more excited for the adventure you and your husband are about to embark on.

[xxvalkyriesxx]

Flying Changes - Chapter Two

A Nessian Equestrian Fic

Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

Read on AO3 or below!

CW: discussions of food/eating, withdrawal symptoms of alcohol, PTSD (Nesta), and Cassian being an ass.

Sleep found Nesta before she noticed as she settled into the bed that would be her’s for the foreseeable future. Out of habit she cuddled a pillow to her chest, reminding her of the times growing up when she cuddled with stuffed animals that provided a little comfort in her darkest hour.

Her breathing was slow as the stars were still lit in the sky. The AC blew cold air into the room. Nesta snuggled deeper into the pillow when suddenly the door to her room slammed open. Nesta bolted upright, screaming.

Standing in the doorway was Cassian with his obnoxious smirk. His hair was in the same style as it was last night.

“Good morning, Sweetheart. Rise and shine. We’ve got feeding to do.” His voice caked in honey that just felt vile.

“What the fuck are you doing?? Did you ever consider knocking??”

“My house, my rules, Sweetheart. And knocking is a privilege not a right. Hop to it. The horses can’t wait forever.”

Nesta growled, throwing the covers off her before marching to the door. She slammed the door shut, however Cassian stuck his foot in place at the right time.

“Five minutes. Anything more than that and I will purposely bring you to the barns with you over my shoulder.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Nesta snapped.

“Try me, Sweetheart.” Cassian answered with a smile full of teeth.

The rancher pulled his foot out before walking down the steps, whistling a tone. Nesta fought the urge to yell before she closed the door. She mumbled about living with a caveman. Quickly she changed into a set of jeans and an old tshirt before grabbing old barn boots.

When she came home from the courthouse yesterday, she found that Elain had already packed most of her belongings. Feyre and Rhysand must have given her a heads up before she returned home.

Leave it to Elain to pack everything. Nesta shook her head before making her way downstairs.

Nesta made it to the ground floor when the strong smell of bacon hit her. She hoped she wasn’t drooling when she walked from the staircase down the hall. Finding her way into a decent size kitchen with Cassian sitting at the table reading some book. Nesta took a closer look at the spine.

War A Memoir by Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius. So other than being attractive, he has nothing else going for him. Nesta thought to herself before grabbing two slices of bacon.

“Oh look, you’re here. You know I can still throw you over my shoulder if you want.” Cassian placed his book down.

“As if I want you to touch me like that ever.” Nesta countered 

“Are you always this fresh in the morning?” 

“It’s for whenever you’re rude to me, I’ll swing right back.”

Cassian held up his hands in surrender.

“You’re gonna need more than just two strips of bacon in your system, Sweetheart. Grab some of the waffles and fruit too for yourself, but eat quickly. Once we’re up, we’re not stopping for a while.” 

“I can’t eat all of this.” Nesta gestured to the food on the counter.

“Sweetheart, something you’ll learn here is that we’re a food family. Everyone here loves to eat. We work all day. And to do the work we do, you gotta have food to keep you going.”

Nesta crossed her arms over her chest. Ultimately she didn’t want to put too much in her stomach right now. Not with withdrawals on the horizon. 

“Listen if you don’t want to eat it right now, fine, but know that leftovers are scarce here. If someone finds these waffles in the fridge later they might be gone when you want them.” 

In response, Nesta bit into an apple.

“Suit yourself, Nes.” Then Cassian walked off. Nesta stormed after him. 

“Do not, call me that! My name is Nesta.”

“You’re a court appointed volunteer until you have 375 hours of community service here. I’ll call you whatever I want.” Cassian began to walk away but poked his head back into the kitchen.

“Needless to say, red is a good color on you.” Nesta’s skin flushed.

“Come on, Sweetheart. You’ve had your breakfast, now the horses need theirs.”

**

“And here is the therapeutic barn. It leads to the indoor arena we mainly use.” Cassian said, as he opened the barn doors.

“There’s another barn on site then?” Nesta asked.

“Indeed. It’s where my family and mine horses stay. They’re not therapeutic trained so we tend to keep them separate.”

About ten horses peered from their stalls. Their ears perked up at Nesta’s presence. Cassian smiled at them.

“Good morning, everyone.” The horses all neighed in return.

“Are you some Disney princess or something?” Nesta puzzled, an eyebrow raised.

Cassian laughed and for some reason Nesta wanted to hear it again. Cassian went on to name every horse and pony in the barn as they stood by waiting for their breakfast. She couldn’t tell most of the breeds by their heads, but she spotted at least two Terrasen Cove Horses.

“And this old fellow is Cylde. He was the previous ranch manager’s horse.”

A chestnut with a grayed face hung his head out his stall window. His ears perked at Cassian. The man stroked the horse’s muzzle gently.

“What happened to him? The ranch manager I mean.”

“Her. Rhys’ mom owned and ran this place until the day she died. She died along with her husband several years ago in a car crash. She adopted Azriel and me when we were younger. So we’ve always been a part of the family business.”

Nesta recalled when she first met Rhysand several years ago, Feyre had thought they would get along because they both grew up around horses. However as Nesta loved being an equestrian, Rhysand was more or less tolerated horses.

“Oh…I’m sorry for your loss.” Nesta commented, her tone a bit softer. 

“Thank you. We had to shut down the House of Wind for some time after that. Rhys took ownership of the ranch and hired people to take care of the horses. I was still serving in the military then.” He paused to sort the feed for the morning breakfast before continuing.

“And when I got honorably discharged from the AirForce last year, I attended veteran therapy with horses. From that experience, I knew that I wanted to bring this ranch back to life.” Cassian said before turning to Nesta.

Nesta stood with her hand over her arm. It had been several years since she’d been around horses. Her nails dug slightly into her skin, hoping to keep her emotions at bay.

She could hear Cassian call out for her, but Nesta stopped short when she saw a bay gelding near her. Her heart beat increased as anxiety flooded her veins. This…no this wasn’t Flame. Flame was dead.

Because of her.

All because of her.

Then suddenly she was slammed back into time.

Bright lights, white walls, an alarm for her heart. Nesta stayed in her coated darkness hidden behind closed eyes.

Muffled voices echoed around her in her dreamscape.

“I’m sorry, Miss Archeron. We’re going to have to wait to see if your sister pulls through. She took a nasty fall breaking several bones and getting a concussion. We hope to have her wake up soon, but we can’t promise anything.”

“Nesta…Nesta please forgive me. We had no choice.” A voice whimpered. She felt her hand being held but couldn’t tell who it belonged to.

Where was Flame? Her horse but more importantly he was her best friend. He had been through most of the traumatic events in her life. But where was he now?

She tried to call out his name, but her voice seemed so small, how could anyone hear her? Her breathing grew faster trying to find him, or anyone else. Where was everyone?

“Nesta.” A smooth voice called out to her, erupting her from the dream.

The woman looked up to Cassian. He stood in front of her. A look of worry crossed his face. He made no movement to touch her. Water stung her eyes as she quickly wiped her face with her hand.

“I don’t want to work with the horses. I’ll do whatever else. Just not the horses.”

“Oh uhm, you’re sure? I mean you’re the one with the Olympic medals.”

“Yes. I do not want to work with horses.”

Cassian bit his lip looking around before turning his gaze back onto Nesta.

“That’s…that’s fine. The arenas need to be mucked up and some of the posts around the site. Is that fine?”

Nesta nodded but then turned back to Cassian.

“Shouldn’t I have the keys to a gaiter or something?” Nesta asked but Cassian just chuckled.

“Well sure, however Sweetheart your license was suspended for 1 year starting yesterday. You’re not driving anything even a golf cart.”

“Are you being fucking serious? You don’t need a license for that!”

“Don’t care, Sweetheart. You’re the criminal here out of the two of us. I’m not getting my ass handed to me because you couldn’t move a wheelbarrow.”

She rolled her eyes as she mumbled curses under her breath. Spotting the wheelbarrow in the corner, Nesta walked over and took it. She wheeled out of the barn into the arena, a heavy sigh escaping her as she stood surrounded by sawdust and several droppings of manure.

Jail would’ve been easier than this. It would’ve taken Nesta away from the outside world. From the equestrian world she grew up in. Every scent, sight, and touch felt like it was any other day before the fall three years ago.

Suppress it. We don’t need to think about this now.

Taking a deep breath, Nesta grabbed the rake and wheelbarrow and went to work.

An hour or two later, Nesta finished the arenas. She breathed heavily as she hadn’t been regularly exercising for a long time. She took the wheelbarrow outside, leaving it not far from the gate of the arena. Sweat dripped on her brow, making her huff. It wasn’t terrible outside as they were located in the mountains.

Nesta leaned against a tree trying to remain in the shade for a little while longer to keep herself out of the sun. Mentally she felt a small haze, almost fog like. Her hand wiped more sweat off her as it shook slightly.

 As she looked up, she recognized Cassian’s statue not far from her. She groaned.

There goes the rest of my break.

As Nesta began to walk back to duty, she collided with someone else walking near her. The woman made an oof sound as Nesta’s body hit hers. Nesta looked up to see a woman slightly taller than her with copper red hair with her skin decorated in millions of freckles.

The woman stared at Nesta. “Sorry about that, but you must be the new ranch hand that Cassian mentioned.”

Nesta stared back at her. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

She crossed her arms. “I’m Dr. Gwyneth Berdara. But most call me Gwyn.”

“Aren’t you a little young to be a doctor?” Nesta asked, tilting her head slightly.

The woman, Gwyn, scuffed. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m older than you…you…I’m sorry, Cassian never mentioned your name.”

“It’s Nesta.”

“Well, Nesta. It’s not really any of your business how old I am now is it?

Oh she has a mouth for sure.

Nesta opened her lips to bark an insult, but she soon closed them. “I’m not wasting my time on this. Besides, you won't like how I continue speaking to you. Most don’t anyway.” 

Gwyn wore a daring grin. “Try me.”

Nesta growled “Go fuck yourself.” 

“Oooh you’re good. Well, Nesta I best be off.”  Gwyn laughed before walking off to the barn.

Nesta stared at her, unsure what exactly happened. Before she could question further, Cassian stood in front of her. His hair was fully up in a bun from how she last saw it that morning. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Pieces of hay stuck to his clothes. 

“So you met Gwyn. Thoughts?” Cassian asked.

Nesta blinked at the unexpected question. “Uhm, I mean, she seems nice? I think she’ll be good for future patients.”

“Patients?”

“She’s a doctor?”

A chuckle left Cassian. “Gwyn has her PhD. She’s actually the patient.”

It was a rich sound, like if chocolate cake were to laugh.

What the fuck does that even mean?? Nesta shook her head before relying on the information Cassian gave. She stood dumbfounded as his words sunk in. 

“Wait, she’s the patient?? How the fuck..?”

He shrugged. “I’m not sure about all of the details. She lives right near the ranch. She emailed us a month ago asking if her and her therapist could come up and see the horses. This is her second time here. Although, something isn’t clicking with her, but her therapist swears she knows what she’s doing.

“And you believe that?”

“Absolutely not. But she’s not handling the horses so I don’t want to argue too much. I mean she could run her mouth and really put us into jeopardy and…”

His voice trailed off as Nesta shifted her stance, three times in a row. Her left wrist twitched. The sweat felt like it was drenching all over her clothes, down her back.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Her breathing became rapid.

Are you okay? Nesta? What’s wrong? The voice was muffled. Nesta couldn’t respond. Her mouth was tied and dried out. She felt her body move, but she didn’t know how she was walking and sitting on something. A gentle voice, the same one as above, was still speaking.

It’s probably the withdrawal. Been down that road before and I do not envy you. Although thankfully for you, you’re not quitting in the middle of a war zone.

Weight rested on her neck, but it was gentle. It felt nice. Her skin felt clammy and weird, however Nesta’s breathing began to slow. 

There she is.

“Sweetheart?”

Nesta looked up to see hazel golden eyes staring at her. The weight of a hand on her neck, and the other on her cheek. She blinked. Once. Twice. Then suddenly she pushed Cassian off her, causing him to fall on his ass into the dirt.

“Shit!” He looked up, offended.

She stood up taking a few deep breaths.

“Nesta.” Another voice called out to her. She groaned at the voice. Turning, Nesta found Eris standing there with her appointed probation officer.

“Oh lovely. The withdrawal look really brings out your eyes.” He said coolly.

She glared. “Fuck you.”

Eris held up a hand. “That won’t be necessary. Come along now. We need to start our meeting.”

He came up behind her, eyeing her up and down. Eris had been her lawyer for years now, since the first arrest three years ago for public intoxication. Had seen her on the worst of her days, so his behavior wasn’t new to her. In a weird way, she almost preferred it. It wasn’t sugar coating anything. He was blunt.

The officer she didn't recognize, but he stood several inches taller than Eris. The lawyer turned his attention to the ranch manager getting off the ground. Cassian dusted the dirt off the backside of his jeans, glaring at his boots.

“Thank you for trying your best at calming her down. Do you have a private room we could use?”

Cassian clenched his jaw for a moment before pointing to the other barn behind him. That was the private barn that he mentioned earlier on in the day. The horses there were all owned by Cassian and his family.

“There’s a tack room first door on your right. Should be a table with some chairs. Meet there.”

A twitch of guilt weighed down Nesta. She didn’t mean to push him away that hard. She began to speak, hoping an apology could be formed. However Cassian simply ignored her. Then he stalked off in the opposite direction.

Eris sighed. “What a bunch of dramatics. Let’s get this show on the road. Come on, Nesta.” 

Nesta didn’t move. She kept looking at Cassian. 

His figure blurred into the background as Nesta’s eyes blinked, before she fell.

Tag List (let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @chairofchaos @blueunoias @velarisdusk @c-e-d-dreamer @jsmelodies @inkedinshadows @wolfnesta @lilah-asteria @highqueenmorrigan

[misaligncd]

i realized i am lacking things for my male muses. its time for me to fix that! so this is a one liner starter call for the muses below. please reply in the comments which muse(s) you'd like one from! muses are listed below the cut.

elias ward. twenty seven. artist. jacob elordi fc.

wyatt dearden. thirty. rancher. mike faist fc.

colton marshall. fifty five. former arms dealer. jeffrey dean morgan fc.

cassian payne. twenty six. drug dealer. hero fiennes tiffin fc.

elijah holt. thirty four. mechanic. austin butler fc.

atlas vizer. thirty three. trust fund kid. oliver stark fc.

mariano videla. forty nine. carpenter. pedro pascal fc.

luciano gil. twenty seven. tattoo artist. aron piper fc.

[fulcrumstardust]

ajdffhknhn but why is two tubes looking so good???

I feel like it's a crime I never watched this masterpiece. I'm gonna hazard Cassian, K, and Baze are three hardworking ranchers fighting to save their family business from the greedy corporation that wants to bulldoze the land to build condos. Jyn has to be a ruthless morally bankrupt lawyer who loves to stick it to everyone. Her boss is afraid of her so they always make sure to never get in her way -until- they try to fuck her over a six figures deal, so she decides she might as well switch side and start helping the rural dickheads to keep their horses. She might also decide to save a horse and ride a cowboy, for fun. Two Tubes is the mole inside the walls. How did I do??

[dinluke-ao3feed]

Wild Hearts Cant be Tamed

Read it on https://archiveofourown.org/works/54426142 by MayukiCrystalQueen When Din’s boss Nia signs her ranch over to her nephew Luke Din expects a lot of things. He expects Luke to know how to ride a horse, how to run a business, and to uphold the deal to eventually sell him the ranch like he promised. He doesn’t expect to be attracted to him or for Nia to make a bet with him that he won’t get together with Luke by the time a year has passed. Now Din has to teach Luke how to ride, how to cut cattle, and try not to fall in love all while sharing a house with his new boss. Yeah he’s screwed. Words: 3718, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, M/M Characters: Din Djarin, Luke Skywalker, Grogu | Baby Yoda, Ezra Bridger, Kanan Jarrus, Original Skywalker Character(s), Hera Syndulla, Cassian Andor, Jyn Erso, Sabine Wren, Ahsoka Tano Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger & Luke Skywalker, past Ezra Bridger/Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker, Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Western, Ranchers AU, Pregnancy, Boss/Employee Relationship, Betting, Good Parent Din Djarin, Good Parent Luke Skywalker, Top Din Djarin, Bottom Luke Skywalker, Pregnant Jyn Erso, Getting Together, Human Grogu | Baby Yoda, Razor Crest is a horse, Bisexual Din Djarin, Gay Luke Skywalker, Heartland AU?

[ghostofskywalker]

alright friends, i have a 12 hour playlist of taylor swift songs, a drink that is basically the alcoholic version of a liquefied jolly rancher, and the rare motivation to write, so i'm going to write some little blurbs!

please send me an ask with your character and prompt! they can be short dialogue prompts, single words, or just vibes, but i don't plan on any of these to be super long, so just keep that in mind.

characters:

marvel: peggy carter, wanda maximoff, natasha romanoff, maria hill* bucky barnes, sam wilson, loki laufeyson

star wars clones: crosshair, hunter, tech, echo, wrecker, rex, jesse, kix, fives, wolffe, cody, fox, howzer, thorn

star wars: obi-wan kenobi, anakin skywalker, padme amidala, din djarin, cassian andor

other: harley quinn, dieter bravo, elizabeth swann*, will turner*, lucifer morningstar*

for maria hill, nothing with secret invasion please (i haven't watched it). for the potc characters, i've only seen through dead man's chest, and for lucifer i've only watched the first season so i'd prefer something more general for him rather than specific episode stuff.

i think that's it :)

[dustjacketmusings]

Cassian lifts her on a horse and there's cheddar the cat??? If I stayed in a hot ranchers house for three days and there were kittens I would just never leave

Ugh, I don’t wanna go to bed at a reasonable hour and be an actual functioning human being again tomorrow.

Will you tell me a bedtime story to help me fall asleep?

How about a little Montana!Cassian under the cut?

Nesta was in hell. 

Who got married in Montana? Montana seemed like the sort of place you exiled people to die in lonely misery. She didn’t give a fuck about all the open sky, the clean air, or the nature that quite literally ambled up to her rental car looking for a snack. Nesta wasn’t built for this sort of life and maybe it said something about her that she couldn’t imagine anyone else who was.

She’d made a mistake, though. When she’d rented her airbnb, she’d just assumed it was an actual home, like the pictures had depicted, and not some ramshackle hovel with a literal hole in the ground for shitting.

For fifty dollars a night, she supposed she deserved that. Nesta thought that maybe she also deserved her twisted ankle. Heels on a gravel road had been an obvious mistake—was she supposed to go barefoot? She hadn’t brought anything else. Nesta emitted a soft scream of hatred for this new, cheerful place before propping herself up on the hood of her car to look at her swelling ankle.

All this for a wedding. The minute Nesta managed to get back into her car, she was going to book a flight home and block this friend forever. Why was she even trying to have friends outside of Gwyn and Emerie, besides? Nesta maneuvered her phone from her black skirt pocket only to find that of fucking course she didn’t have service.

She screamed again, irate with the whole endeavor.

“All right, ma’am?” a masculine voice called. Nesta whipped her head to the side of the long, gravel drive, intending to give that busybody man the middle finger for his trouble.

She hesitated. To start, the man in question was astride a large brown horse. She had no quick comeback for a man who was pulling towards her shiny black sedan like he’d stepped straight out of eighteen forty six. 

He swung one of his long, powerful legs off the creature with ease, revealing himself to be at least six foot five. Nesta had never considered herself a small woman, standing at five nine without heels but as he approached, his rough stubbled face hidden beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, Nesta felt positively dainty. 

He swept his hat off his head and Nesta wished he hadn’t. Holding it against the blue and green flannel of his shirt, he was like something out of a magazine ad for country living. Warm brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders was a lethal combination on this man. His chiseled jaw, the stubble grazing his cheeks, and his rough features made Nesta think he had no trouble picking up women.

And that irked her, even as she swallowed with desire. He was absurdly stunning, the absolute dream of anyone hoping to marry a cowboy from a long forgotten age. Those eyes of his, framed with ridiculously long lashes, swept over her, and then her surroundings.

“Tricked, huh?” he asked in a rich, deep drawl. “You wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last.”

“Someone should burn this place to the ground,” she hissed, one hand still gripping her hurt ankle. 

He chuckled. “I don’t think that would stop someone from tryin’ to sell it. You hurt?” he added, his eyes falling on her ankle. 

“I twisted my foot,” she admitted. He knelt, the sight emptying out all of Nesta’s thoughts. She could only stare at his thighs, bulging in his tight jeans. His hand was large enough to wrap fully around her ankle and ever so slowly, he pulled her foot from her scuffed black heel.

“This is your problem,” he said, holding up her shoe with a frown. 

“Well I know that now,” Nesta hissed, “you must be a psychic.”His eyes flashed. “Can you drive?”

“No,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, I wouldn’t go around insultin’ the only person who can help…but that’s just me,” he replied. 

Nesta hesitated. “Are you a doctor?”

He snorted, rising to his feet again. His large, muscular body blocked the bright sun the way a tree might and Nesta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful.

“Cattle rancher,” he replied, “but I know a thing or two about tapin’ up a sprain. We’ll get you iced up and bandaged and on your way Miss…”

She sighed. “Nesta Archeron,” she half grumbled.

“Miss Archeron—”

“Nesta. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He smiled, setting her heart racing. “Miss Nesta, then. I’m Cassian, and I’m walkin’ towards you real slow because I don’t want to spook you.”

“Why would you—put me down right now!”

He shook his head. “And let you finish breakin’ what you started? No offense, darlin’, but carrying you is a lot safer than letting you hop on the horse—”

“Why can’t we drive?”

He looked down at her, his amusement plain. “And what would I do with Bryaxis?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nesta breathed, gripping Cassian’s neck until her nails dug into his skin. “I’ve never been on a horse.”

“He doesn’t bite,” Cassian replied. “I’ll be right behind you.” She couldn’t help her squeal as he hoisted her up into the fine leather saddle. Nesta’s bare thighs touched the material, spreading her legs obscenely, though Cassian didn’t seen to notice or care. He merely swung himself up behind her. He put one hand on her hip, the warmth seeping through her silken skirt, before reaching for the reins.

“What were you doing out here, anyway?”

He nodded towards a saddle bag. “Needed a few things in town. “And you took a horse?” she replied, trying to imagine where he’d even park it.

Cassian’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Where are you from, Miss Nesta?”

“Chicago,” she replied, well aware she was proving every city slicker stereotype true. “Have you ever been?”

She felt him shrug. “Nope. I’ve been to cities before, but not so far south.

So far south. Nesta didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re not missing much, honestly.”

“No? Is Chicago not home sweet home?”

It was Nesta’s turn to shrug. “It’s where I live.”

If he had thoughts about that, Cassian kept them to himself. That was just as well—Nesta didn’t want to fight some stranger when she was currently on his horse, unable to even run. He’d left her shoes on top of her car and her suitcase in the trunk. Nesta was literally at his mercy, given the small, two lane road they were currently traveling down had no hint of civilization besides the two of them. 

She’d done such a shitty job picking an airbnb. 

“What are you doin’ up here, then?” he asked after a moment. His voice had the most pleasant gravel, deep and dark like a star flecked sky. Nesta knew she was leaning against the broad plain of his chest and found she didn’t care. 

“My friend is getting married,” she said. “I guess her fiance grew up out here.”

“Oh yeah?” he replied, an obvious smile in his voice. “Married on a ranch?”

Nesta twisted in her saddle. “Don’t you dare—”

“Lots of people rent out my barn on the edge of the property. You can stay up with me, if you need a place. I’ll charge you a real fair price.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”

“You ever mucked out a stall, Miss Nesta?”

She poked him in the ribs, turning back to face the endless expanse of cloudless blue. “Is that your thing, then? Humbling the city girl by making her clean up shit?”

“Maybe I think you’d be real pretty with a little mud on your face.”

Nesta swallowed. “I don’t do mud,” she said, looking at her immaculate nails.

“What do you do, then?” Why did he sound so suggestive? Nesta’s hands were clammy–nervous. When had a man ever had that effect on her? 

“Law,” she told him. “Corporate law.”

He made some soft, noncommittal noise that was, honestly, a lot better than a lot of the finance men she dated. Cassian acknowledged he’d heard her without feeling the need to cut her down in service of his own ego. 

“I don’t know much about that,” he finally admitted. Nesta could have kissed him for it, though she wouldn’t. 

“It’s pretty boring,” she said, earning another of his soft noises.

“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he replied. “You don’t strike me as the type to spend your time sufferin’.”

“Well…I do get to humble really rich men with a fair amount of regularity,” she admitted with a smile. His grip on her waist tightened. 

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his breath fanning against the back of her neck. She shivered, unintentionally leaning further into him. She was acting like a cat in heat over a man she’d known for fifteen minutes.

“I’ll pay,” she breathed. Behind her, Cassian went stiff.

“Pay?”

“For a room,” she clarified, wondering what he was thinking. “If you were serious about your offer, I’d pay you for it.”

“Oh, darlin’, there’s no need for that. Just a little hel—”

“I told you I don’t do dirt,” she snapped. “You can have money or nothing at all.”

“I’m not takin’ your money,” Cassian drawled. “Just keep after yourself and don’t disturb the cats.” Her heart stuttered. “Cats?”

“Yeah. My girl just had kittens and she’s real skittish, so if you see her, be real quiet and soft.”

Nesta could have died. “What's her name?”

She wanted a cat so badly. Her landlord expressly forbade any animals at all, and Nesta was too much of a ruler follower to risk a secret cat. The thought of spending three days surrounded by a mama cat and her little kittens seemed like heaven.

“Cheddar,” Cassian admitted ruefully. “She’s orange. Dad must be black, though, because half her little beans are black, too.” A soft squeak slipped from Nesta’s throat. “Do they have names?”

“Not yet. Maybe you’ll help me out with that,” he added with what sounded suspiciously like hope. 

She didn’t dare unpack that. Not as Cassian pulled off the road, steering his steady horse down another gravel path. Untouched grass stretched for miles in every direction until the sky met mountains in the distance.

[aviangrian]

have nothing planned out for the rogue one story yet besides when the final fight on scarif happens instead of anyone dying, grian and scar get split up again

going completely off memory but cassian gets shot at some point but he finishes the mission w jyn and ultimately, they die

instead i’d have grian as cassian where he’s shot and rather than that whole showdown w krennic where both of them transmit the death star plans to the rebels, scar forces grian on a ship to safety

back to splitting up in times of danger but tbh scar just doesn’t want to see him die and wants him to get medical attention.

as grian’s safe on the ship, he watches the death star enter orbit. scar manages to escape before the planet is destroyed but grian doesn’t know that

haven’t figured out the rest but grian doesn’t see scar until all the rebels are back on base and they’re counting their losses, etc. but it ties back to the idea of “thinks the other dies but actually survives :D”

besides this tho i have no other ideas on how to change rogue one to fit them 🥲

[snelbz]

The Ranch {19}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

Nesta stood in the paint department and looked at the wall of samples in front of her. She wanted something light, but something that stood out, too. She didn’t want anything like her father had chosen back in the nineties and-.

She shook her head, trying to free her head of the deja vu that washed over her and chuckling quietly. She had been here before, had done this before. Things were just...a little different this time.

As if she wanted to remind her mother of this fact, Nesta felt a sharp pain against her ribs and she inhaled sharply through her teeth. Beau looked up at her, brown eyes wide. He hadn’t left her side since the beginning of her third trimester and Nesta had learned to love the constant, comforting presence.

“Your sister is using my ribs as a punching bag,” she told him, regardless of the fact that he couldn’t understand her. He opened his mouth in what Nesta swore was a smile and his tongue hung to the side.

He always smiled when they talked about the baby.

Nesta was floored as she realized how different her life had become in twelve months. A year ago, she’d been deciding whether or not she should give up everything she’d ever wanted, to move home and run her father’s crumbling dream of a bed and breakfast. Now she was about to have a baby, her perfect, little girl, and she was going to marry the man of her dreams, the man who gave her the gift she never thought possible.

“Nesta?”

She froze, recalling how someone had called her name the last time she’d been here, who it had been when she turned. But it wasn’t Tomas, just Azriel standing in his old, torn jeans and black hoodie. Out of all of them, it was Azriel who looked the least the part of a rancher, but he sure as hell knew what he was doing.

“Cass said you were running into town, but this was the last place I thought I’d see you,” Azriel said, when Nesta said nothing. 

Nesta, collecting her thoughts, gestured to the wall of paint samples. “Nursery color.”

“Ah,” Azriel said, huffing a laugh as he stopped next to her and looked at the wall. Beau brushed up against his leg, and he gave the pup a loving scratch behind the ears. “What about purple?”

Nesta frowned, looking at the endless samples of purple. She had gone over the lavender hues ten times already. “Too predictable. Pink, too. I’ve ruled them both out.”

Azriel chuckled. “Fair enough. Cass wants to paint it green.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. She had to admit that she had her eye on a neutral olive color, but it didn’t seem right, it wasn't special enough.  “So I’ve been told. I told him no, though.”

It was true. In fact, the night before they’d had a heated debate over what color the nursery would be. It ended in them making love on the nursery’s carpet, but that was irrelevant. 

“How about blue?” Azriel suggested, picking up a few different swatches. “There are a ton of different shades of blue, surely there’s one you two can agree on.”

It was her favorite color, but it limited her decorating choices. Both the camouflage and rodeo nursery ideas were nixed last night as well, and Cassian was still pouting about it.

“I’ve been leaning towards a softer yellow or orange.” She lifted a buttery yellow card from its slot. It was too bright, too rich. She added it to the stack, knowing it may look different away from the fluorescent lights. “Like the sunrise. First light.”

Azriel was nodding. “Why don’t you ask Feyre to paint the sunrise?”

Nesta was going to blame her stupidity on pregnancy brain as her eyes went wide and she said, “I hadn’t even thought of that. She’d love that.”

Azriel just smiled, softly. “Feyre would be honored, if you asked her.”

Nesta nodded, slowly, then picked out a couple different shades of yellows and oranges. “Since you’re here, please take me to get some tacos. I’ll buy. Might even bring some home to Cass, if he’s been good this morning.” Azriel’s grin widened as they began walking toward the exit. “A little cranky, I must say, but I think that’s just because he’s hungover.”

Nesta snorted. After their fight over paints, he’d indulged himself - one beer too many, perhaps. “It doesn’t take much to be hungover when you wake up at five a.m.”

“True,” Azriel agreed. “I could do tacos, though.”

“Good,” Nesta said, putting the paint swatches into her purse as she and Azriel walked out onto the sidewalk, Beau close behind. 

It wasn’t until they were down the street at a taco vendor’s food truck that Nesta asked, “So, when the hell are you going to ask my sister to marry you?”

The bite he’d been in the process of taking nearly came back out. Nesta didn’t even flinch. She’d spent so much time throwing up in the past eight months that partially chewed food didn’t even phase her. She blinked and waited for him to collect himself before he took a drink of the Corona in his hand.

“You just go straight for the balls, don’t you?” He laughed.

She raised her eyebrows. “Have you met my fiancé?”

“Fair enough,” he laughed, but he sighed. “You want the honest truth?”

Nesta suddenly realized she wasn’t sure. She was meddling and the only person who hated meddling more than she did was Elain. But she nodded.

Az took a deep breath and said, “I’ve had the ring for almost six months.”

“What?” Nesta’s eyes must have nearly bulged out of her head, because Az backed up a step. “And why exactly haven’t you proposed?”

His smile was soft but proud, as he said, “I don’t want to take this time from you, or from Cassian. You’re having a baby. Like, Nesta, you’re growing a literal human inside of yourself.” He chuckled and smiled fondly. “Did you know that even when we were in high school all Cass wanted from life was to rope and have a family. You’re giving him one of those things and I can’t ever thank you for making my brother so happy. And I don’t want to take that spotlight from y’all. I want you to have your moment, so that when the time comes, Elain can have hers.”

Nesta hated Azriel for making her cry over her taco, and yet, tears were sliding down her cheeks as she set her taco back down onto her plate and observed him. Eventually, she cleared her throat and said, “Elain is a lucky woman.”

Azriel just shook his head as he took another bite. “That woman deserves the world. If anyone’s lucky, it’s me.”

Nesta found herself completely overwhelmed. A year ago, she hadn’t believed love existed, but now? Her and Cassian, Elain and Azriel, Feyre and Rhysand...this type of love was rare, Nesta was sure of it, but somehow they all ended up in a fairytale romance. Her sisters were happy, she was happy...it was perfect. 

“Don’t tell your sister that I made you cry,” Azriel went on, shoving the last of his taco into his mouth. “She’ll kick my ass. She’s scary when she wants to be.”

She shook her head, dabbing at her eyes with a scratchy napkin. “She’ll understand when you knock her up. I cried yesterday during a Christmas commercial.” Azriel waited, knowing that was somewhat common. “A commercial for cattle feed.”

He nodded. “I believe you. Doesn’t change the fact that your sister will punch me in the dick if she finds out I was the cause of your tears.”

They both laughed and Nesta smiled. “Thank you for making her so happy.”

Az gave her that full smile that so many rarely saw. “It’s my pleasure.”

Nesta finished her tacos and ordered some for Cassian for the road. “Word of advice,” she said, getting into her car. Beau already patiently sat in the passenger seat. “Don’t ask her on a holiday. Girls don’t want to share their special day.”

Azriel’s eyebrows raised. “I...hadn’t thought of that.”

Nesta chuckled. “You were going to propose on New Years, weren’t you?”

He nodded once. “Yes, I was.”

She laughed, full and bright, and said, “How about this? You tell me when it’s time, I’ll plan a family dinner and voila, you’ve got yourself a fiancée.”

“Really?” Azriel asked, stopping in front of the driver’s side of the truck’s door.

“Of course,” Nesta said, crossing her arms, the bag of Cassian’s food hanging on her arm. 

“Thank you,” he said, and she knew by the look in his eyes that he meant it.

Although they were going to the same place, they said their goodbyes and Nesta drove home, slowly. By the time she made it back home to the ranch with her paint swatches, Cassian was mowing the lawn. He was shirtless, of course, and was chugging a bottle of water as he rode the lawn mower across the grass. As Nesta pulled into the driveway, he was waving and putting it in park. 

He was covered in sweat, but Nesta still didn’t stop him as he pressed his lips to the side of her head. “The grass was long.”

Nesta nodded. She had wanted to ask him to mow, considering she was too pregnant to do so, but hadn’t wanted to interrupt his daily plans. “I brought you tacos.” 

“Mmm, that’s exactly why I’m marrying you,” he said, pulling her onto his sweaty lap and opening the box in her hands.

She squirmed out of his arms, as best as she could at eight and a half months pregnant and said, “I’m going to go hang the swatches on the wall, come see when you’re done?”

He nodded, shoving an entire taco in his mouth.

She chuckled, but shivered as a brisk wind blew by. “Cass, I know the sun is straight on you, but it’s forty-five degrees out. Don’t you think you should put a shirt on?”

He finished chewing and said, “How else will I keep my tan year round?”

She shook her head and said, “I’ll be inside, call me if you need me. I love you.”

He smiled at her, those hazel eyes sparkling from the joy he felt inside. “I love you too, darlin’.”

She turned and started up the porch steps and heard, “Hey.”

Nesta looked back at him and he asked, the sparkle replaced by his usual mischievous glint, “You got any green swatches in there?”

Nesta rolled her eyes as Azriel pulled the truck in next to her little car. “No.”

She continued up into the house, laughing when she heard Az ask why the hell he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She pulled the swatches out of her purse, including the couple of greens she’d snagged on their way out, along with her phone and she and Beau made their way up to her old room.

The room that she grew up in was the same room her daughter would too.

As she was taping swatches to the room, in various lighting, she called Feyre, putting her phone on speaker.

“Hello?” her sister answered a second later.

“Hey,” Nesta said, looking around the room. “I have a favor to ask.” “Ask away,” Feyre said.

Nesta admired the swatches she had chosen before clearing her throat. “Would you mind...helping me paint the baby’s nursery?”

There was a slight pause, then Feyre’s quiet voice came through, “Of course.”

“I was thinking the sunrise,” Nesta continued, trying not to cry for the tenth time that day. “Bright, cheery, calming.”

“I can do that,” Feyre breathed. “I can come by this weekend?”

“Perfect,” Nesta agreed. There was a few seconds of silence before Nesta said, “Thank you.”

“Anything for my niece,” Feyre said, then added, “And anything for you. And that idiot fiancé of yours.”

Nesta peeked out the window where Cassian was still mowing without his shirt on. He always acted like it was spring, even in the winter. Although their town stayed pretty mild, winter-wise, there was still a little chill in the air. “Idiot he is, but he’s my idiot.”

Feyre chuckled. “Still on for dinner tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Nesta promised. “I’ll see you then.”

They said their goodbyes before Nesta was left alone, in the silence, observing the room around her. Five minutes of planning in her head passed before heavy boots padded up the stairs and Cassian appeared, now wearing a hoodie, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. “Can I help with anything?”

She was admiring the colors in the direct sunlight. “You can tell me which of these you like best.”

“Hmm.” He came up behind her, pressing his big hands against her belly. Even as round as she was, even at over eight months pregnant, his hands still covered most of it. But then they slid upwards until he was cupping a breast in each hand. He made a show of weighing them and squeezing them gently, and said, “I don’t know, I think I’m pretty partial to the left one.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing, and pushed away from him, walking towards the wall. “I meant color, baby.”

“Oh, well that’s easy,” he snorted, coming in closer as well.

It turned out that it was, in fact, not easy.

After forty-five minutes of arguing and an almost silent quickie with the door open to make up, they had narrowed it down to New Spring Chick and Frosted Tropical Apricot.

They would let Feyre make the final decision in the morning.

“Don’t you have to get back out there?” Nesta asked.

Cassian shook his head. “For now, Az has it covered, it’s been an easy day. I was thinking you and I could go out to dinner, though.”

Nesta lifted a brow. “Dinner?”

Cassian nodded, then gestured to her belly. “We only have so much more time before baby comes. We should have a date night while we can.”

Nesta watched him for a moment before saying, “Okay, fine. But does this mean I have to get dressed up?”

Cassian grinned. “You could wear fucking sweatpants for all I care, but I’m taking you out.”

She wouldn’t wear sweatpants, but she also didn’t plan on wearing another real pair of pants until after this baby was out of her.

Cassian pressed a soft kiss to her stomach, which he did every chance he took, and left to go take a much needed shower. Nesta got ready, slipping on a pair of comfy black leggings and a baggy sweatshirt. Cass ended up dressing nearly identically, except he did wear sweatpants.

They hopped in the “play truck” and right before they left, Cassian said, “Shit, I’ll be right back.”

Nesta sat straight up, hands forming a protective cage around her stomach. “What? Is everything okay?”

He jogged into the house and came back out a minute later, backpack tossed over his shoulder. Climbing back into the truck, he tossed it in the backseat and put it in reverse.

“What is that?” she asked. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“This,” Cass replied, putting his free hand in Nesta’s and rubbing soothing circles into the back of her hand, “is our emergency bag. It’s got everything we’ll need in it in case you go into labor. Clothes, insurance paperwork, phone chargers, snacks.” He began a smooth back and forth motion. “Diapers, binkies, onesies, little socks and blankets, and everything else our precious girl is going to need.”

She blinked, and hated that tears were, once again, rolling down her cheeks. “You have truly thought of everything, haven’t you?”

Cassian shrugged. “You’re literally growing my child inside of you. As your baby daddy, it’s my job to take as much stress off of you as possible.”

Nesta leaned over the center console and pressed her lips to his cheek. “Thank you.”

He grinned, fully satisfied with himself, as he pulled onto the road and headed into town. They drove to a little Italian restaurant because Nesta had mentioned she could use a plate full of breadsticks. Cassian ordered it to go, though, and hopped back into the truck before driving a mile down the road to the old high school. He parked in the parking lot before hopping out and putting down the truck bed.

“Come on, babe,” he called, already taking the boxes of pasta out of the bag. When Nesta came around, he helped her onto the back of the truck before joining her there, his thigh brushing hers.

She ate her alfredo happily, indeed chowing down on an insane number of breadsticks that Cassian swore he didn’t count.

He was rubbing her feet when she asked, voice quiet, “Are you scared?”

He looked at her, at how she was staring off toward the football field, pretending not to notice him staring at her. “Am I scared of doing something stupid? Yes. Am I scared it’s going to be a lot more than we’re expecting? Yes. Am I scared we’re going to get in over our heads? Yes. Am I scared that there’s about to be a miniature version of you running around? Hell yes.” He turned her face toward his, forcing her to look at him. “But am I scared to be a father? No. Am I scared to meet our daughter? No. Am I scared to do this with you? Absolutely not.”

She whispered, “Quit making me cry.”

But he shook his head, softly. “I love you, Nesta. And yeah, I am scared, but I can’t wait. This little girl already has me wrapped around her finger and she’s not even here yet.”

A tear slid down her cheek that he quickly reached up and brushed away. “Are you scared?”

Nesta took a moment to think about it, but then she sighed. “Yes, and no. It’s complicated.”

Cassian chuckled, in full understanding.

“I’m scared because I don’t know what to expect,” she said, after a minute. “I’m not sure how to handle the not knowing.”

“That’s why we have each other, sweetheart,” he kissed the top of her head. “Come on, let’s get home. I have a shitload of furniture to build tonight.”

The egregiously overpriced infant's bedroom suit that Nesta had seen online had been delivered that afternoon. Cassian couldn’t understand how Nesta could justify spending as much as some people spent on a vehicle on furniture that was just going to get covered in shit and baby barf.

Not to mention that it had been shipped from overseas.

They packed up their trash and got back in the truck, heading for home.

“While I carry all of the boxes upstairs, why don’t you take a nice bath, baby?” He asked. “And then when you’re done, you can read me instructions that I won’t listen to while I figure out how to put it all together.”

Nesta shook her head, unable to stop herself from chuckling. “At least you’re honest.” 

He took her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles. “I am that.”

Nesta had to admit that the thought of a bath sounded incredible, though, so she didn’t argue. Once they got home, Nesta was making her way, slowly, up the porch, inside, and up the stairs while Cassian got to work on gathering the boxed nursery furniture. They had a changing table, a bookshelf, a dresser, and a crib, all of which Nesta had bought from a small French boutique that had always caught her eye in Paris. When Cassian asked why they couldn’t just go into town and buy something that was already assembled, Nesta’s answer was simple: she was getting what she wanted, and she wanted the modern, white, sleek furniture she’d on her walk to work every day.

Cassian didn’t argue. 

While she was soaking in the tub, she could hear Cass moving around in the other room. She’d hear a thump as a box was dropped or something would start dragging across the floor. At one point, she heard a loud bang followed by Son of a bitch!

Nesta laughed quietly to herself and smoothed a hand over her belly, which stuck out of the water by a considerable amount. “Daddy’s getting your room put together, sweet girl, and then we’re ready for you to get here whenever you are.”

She leaned her head back against the cool, porcelain tub, sighing happy. Life had become so crazy lately, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be stressed about it.

Her phone vibrated on the small table by her head and when she leaned up to glance at it, her hand slipped on the slick surface. The table knocked against the tub and Nesta gasped as her phone fell into the water.

“Shit,” she breathed, grabbing it out and tossing it onto a nearby towel. She decided that was the end of her bath and got out drying herself off and getting dressed.

She tried to power her phone back on, knowing she shouldn’t but hoping it hadn’t been in the water long enough to do any damage. The logo popped up in the middle of the screen then it went black and began to make a whirring noise.

“Damn it.” She sighed and made her way downstairs, throwing it in a bag of rice to see if it could be salvaged. Otherwise, it looked like she’d be going into town the next day for a new phone.

Cassian was padding down the stairs a moment later, his brows furrowed. He took one look at Nesta and froze, then looked down at her phone in the bag of rice. “Your phone take a bath, too?”

Nesta’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.” With a deep sigh, she leaned back against the counter. “I’m pissed.”

“Me too,” Cassian mumbled, throwing open the fridge and grabbing two beers. “I’ve decided that I hate France. Or at least French furniture. Fuck France and their fancy furniture.”

Nesta snorted and came up behind him, attempting to wrap her arms around his waist, but over her giant bump, she hardly managed to reach around his sides.

Cassian's body shook with silent laughter as he turned to face her. “Bump in the way?” He asked, before setting one of his beer cans on the top of it, which only made Nesta roll her eyes.

“It’s not a table,” she laughed. 

“Seems pretty convenient to me,” he shrugged, popping open a can and chugging it down. He brushed his hand over her bump, and just when he touched, baby girl kicked wildly from inside, which only made Nesta groan. 

“That either means that she loves me, or that she’s telling me to fuck off,” Cassian said, which made Nesta laugh. After he kissed her forehead, then the bump with the wild, little Nazari inside, he said, “Alright, baby mama, come upstairs and watch me struggle.”

She smirked and headed for the stairs as he tossed the empty can in the trash, opened the second and grabbed a third to take upstairs. “I already do that on the daily. What’s so different about building furniture?”

She heard him mimic her words in a mocking tone and she laughed as she topped the stairs and made her way into the nursery.

It looked like a styrofoam factory exploded. There were pieces everywhere and screws littering the little catch-all tray he pulled from his tool box. She sighed, realizing it was going to be a long night.

But when she looked out the window, into the starry, cloudless night, and screamed Cassian’s name, she forgot all about furniture and messy packing materials. She forgot all about her phone lying useless on the kitchen counter. She even, for a moment, forgot her own name.

Because the stables were catching on fire.

Cassian was instantly behind her, his eyes wide as he swore violently. “Stay here,” he ordered, and then he was gone, pulling out his phone on the way out the nursery door. 

Nesta could only stare in horror as Cassian's dark figure, only outlined by the light of the moon, sprinted down the path that led to the stables.

It was quickly going up in flames, all consuming, raging flames. Nesta didn’t understand how it could have happened.

Only moments ago, she had been down in the kitchen and the stables were fine.

Then, the thought that had her heart stopping entered her mind. It hadn’t been an accident, couldn’t have been an accident, but that didn’t make any sense. 

A slow panic crept into the pit of her stomach, she was breathing heavier, her heart beating wildly as she sobbed, holding onto her bump, the only thing that allowed her to keep her sanity.

Nesta remembered that Az had told her he’d put the horses in the pasture this morning, since it wasn’t supposed to rain, and she was thankful to whatever god whispered in his ear and told him to do so.

She needed to call someone, needed to get the fire department here. Needed to call her sisters, to call Az. Without thinking, she turned and ran from the room, carefully making her way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Her phone wasn’t on the counter where she’d left it and she frantically looked around the kitchen. 

She plunged into near darkness as the lights went out and a frightened scream burst from Nesta, followed by a sob.

She needed Cassian.

She screamed his name, her voice full of shaking terror as she reached around, trying to find something to hold onto. Eventually, her hands found the edge of the counter and she told herself to breath, in and out. Stress wasn’t good for the baby, panic wasn’t good for the baby.

But she couldn’t help it, and as if the infant in her womb knew that something horrible was happening, she kicked wildly.

Nesta felt the need to puke but she couldn’t move, not in the darkness, not as far from the city as they were. Even as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she couldn’t see through the endless tears.

She tried one more time to scream Cassian’s name, but her voice came out broken, terrified, and it was no use, he was too far away.

She thought she heard a door open and close across the house and she froze. Her voice cracked as she called, “Cass?”

There was no answer.

Something was wrong, something was very, very wrong. She held onto the counter as she quickly ran for the back door - only to find that it was jammed shut, a two-by-four under the doorknob preventing it from opening.

She began to hyperventilate as she realized that this, all of this, was deliberate. The fire still blazed outside, and Nesta heard a creak from the old, wood flooring in the other room. Her blood chilled as she realized that she wasn’t alone in the house.

She ran for the front door, finding it stuck shut as well. “Please, please, please!” She sobbed, pulling on the door as hard as she could. There were unmistakably footsteps from the dining room and she cried, “Please, I’m pregnant, please.”

She hurried back to the kitchen as quietly as she could and silently opened a drawer, pulling out a large knife. She held it out, blindly as she took shuddering breaths.

Then he appeared, in the doorway, wearing a dark hoodie, the hood pulled up. He was tall, his shoulders broad, but slim.

She knew who it was.

She would be foolish to convince herself it wasn’t him. He hadn’t gotten what he wanted from her, had stalked her for months without saying a word. He didn’t come any closer.

Nesta did not lower her knife.

She tried to convince herself to look unafraid, to sound calm, but she couldn’t help the tears that continued to stream down her face.

Inside of her womb, the infant became utterly still.

Nesta swallowed and lifted her chin. “Leave,” she ordered, the demand echoing in the silence. “Or I will kill you, and I will not hesitate.”

Even as she said the words, she wasn’t convinced they were true.

Cassian couldn’t breathe. There was smoke in his eyes, it was unbearably hot, and he couldn’t stop coughing, but then he was out in the fresh night air, his back hitting the soft grass.

He knew that Az had led the horses out before he left today, had watched him take them out one by one, but he had to make sure. He had to verify that there wasn’t one down somewhere.

He found nothing, not a horse or person inside.

Except the overwhelming smell of gasoline.

This fire wasn’t natural, it was intentional. This fire was set.

He’d called Azriel before his feet had hit the landing of the stairs telling him what was happening and asking him to call the fire department. He didn’t know what else to do. It’s not like he could turn on the garden hose and put it out. With as much accelerant was used, it would burn all night.

He knew exactly who it was, he didn’t try to delude himself into anything else.

A truck door slammed and Feyre and Rhys were running toward him.

“What happened?” He asked, helping him stand. Cassian saw that his arm was covered in soot. “I have no idea. We were building baby furniture and the barn was fine, came down to the kitchen so I could grab a beer, and when Nes got back upstairs it was in a blaze.” He coughed, but continued, “Smells like a damn Mapco in there, there was so much gasoline dumped.”

“Gasoline?” Feyre asked, covering her mouth in horror.

Cassian nodded. “Tomas did this.”

Rhysand stilled as Feyre’s face paled.

“I have to go to Nesta,” she breathed, backing away from the fire, even though she wasn’t close to it. She glanced back at the dark. “Is she down at the cabin?”

Cassian’s face fell as he glanced up at the big house, then, he was sprinting.

If Tomas had done this, which Cassian was sure he did, he would still be close. He ran without stopping, without a breath, until he was up the back porch. The door was wide open, a piece of wood sitting off to the side.

Cassian was inside of the kitchen before he screamed, “Nesta?!”

There was no reply in the dark house, no movement or creak or whisper. He frantically flicked the light switch, nothing happening.

“What’s going on?” Feyre called, catching up and coming up the stairs.

Cassian opened his mouth to reply, but there was a banging from the front of the house. “Nesta?!”

He was running through the dark house immediately, finding Azriel and Elain on the other side of the front door. It was jammed closed as well. “Move!”

They did as he said and he put all of his weight into the motion as he tried to shove the door open. On the second try, it gave way.

Elain was already crying when she and Az ran in. He said, “Fire department is on the way.”

Cassian was about to say something when Rhysand’s shaking voice called out from the kitchen. “Cass… come here.”

The sound of his voice chilled Cassian’s blood. He hurried back, could see from the glow that either Feyre or Rhys was using their phone’s flashlight function.

He stumbled into the kitchen, nearly tripping over himself and ran to the other side of the island.

He froze.

One of the kitchen knives was missing from its spot in the open drawer, but it laid on the floor, just a few feet away.

There was so much blood.

She was gone. He took her. By taking her, he took them both.

Cassian heaved over the kitchen sink, everything within his stomach emptying out. He knew he was crying, but he didn’t care. He knew he was sobbing, but no one tried to comfort him. Knew no one was sure how.

Nesta was gone. His baby girl was gone. Tomas had taken them. They were gone, the only hunch of where they had gone written on the kitchen floor: a long kitchen knife and a puddle of blood. 

Cassian was ready to set the world on fire.

“I have to find her,” he breathed, he cried, as his face fell into his hands next to the kitchen sink. “I will find her.”

“Cass-.”

“No,” Cassian interrupted Rhysand before he could even say a word. “He’s out there, and he has my fucking fiancée and child!” 

But Rhysand only shook his head. “I know. I’m coming, too.”

“Me too,” Azriel agreed, then looked to Elain, who nodded.

“We'll take care of things around here,” Elain promised. “Go to the police. Now.” 

Cassian was already near the front door, just as a fire truck pulled onto the grounds. 

“I’ll go talk to them,” Feyre said, and kissed Rhysand quickly on the cheek before hurrying out the back door, Elain close behind. 

Cassian was looking around the house as he walked, even though he’d already searched the entirety of it. Rhysand and Azriel were on his heels as they exited through the front door.

Rhysand’s truck had the most room, and they knew letting Cassian drive wasn’t the smartest. The first logical place to go was the Carlson ranch, only to find it deserted. Cassian looked at the window, where he’d hurled the brick back at him.

“Where would they go?” Azriel asked, kicking something aside as they searched through his workshop.

Rhysand’s phone rang and he answered it. A quick conversation took place, and Feyre said the police needed to talk to Cassian.

They loaded back up into the truck and went back to the ranch. The police were there, along with the fire department and an ambulance, and the second Cassian’s feet hit the ground, questions were being asked.

“What happened?”

Cassian replayed the situation, from the second Nesta had noticed the fire blazing up until the point he realized they were missing. 

“You have to find her,” he told the police, after he told his story. “She’s thirty-eight weeks pregnant, nearly ready to go into labor, you have to fucking find her.”

“We will do everything we ca-.”

“Find her!” he yelled, grabbing the cop he’d been talking to by the shoulders. No one reacted, everyone stayed calm, even the cop that was being grabbed.

The young cop simply took a deep breath before saying, “We will look for her, adamantly, starting now.”

Cassian released his shoulders and nodded, and said in a quiet voice. “Thank you, just… I have to get them back.”

He looked over to where the stables once stood. Now it was a smoldering pile of wood and cinders, all that time put in, all those memories. Gone up in a blaze.

They told Cassian he couldn’t stay in their house that night, that they’d be combing through it for any evidence.

He asked a passing officer, “Will you please, please tell me if that’s her blood?”

The dark red hair, the amber eyes. He was a Vanserra, no doubt.

He nodded. “As soon as we know something, we’ll let you know.”

They let Cassian go in, accompanied by Elain, to get what he would need for the next few days. 

Elain did most of the packing, although she cried the whole time. Cassian couldn’t stay focused though, couldn’t concentrate on anything other than her.

All he could think about was Nesta and their baby, where they were, what he was doing to them.

But per the cops request, Cassian went home with Azriel and Elain to wait for further word.

But he didn’t sleep, didn’t rest.

And he wouldn’t until he found them.

Nesta, and his baby girl. 

[theladyofdeath]

The Ranch {12}

An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.

Collaboration: @snelbz​ x @tacmc​

Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.

Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.

The Ranch Masterlist

Nesta looked around at all she had done in the last few months. She had taken the run down B&B and turned it into something polished and classy - ranch chic, she kept referring to it, which only made Cassian roll his eyes every time she described the ranch in his presence.

But she liked to think that he secretly liked the term.

After making sure all the rooms that were being used that day were organized as they should be, she wandered into the kitchen, where the caterers were setting up, and peeked out the back window. Chairs were being lined up with the help of Cassian and Azriel in a long semi-circle, all facing the wooden arch draped with flowers and greenery.

When Feyre and Rhysand’s venue had to cancel weeks before their wedding due to bad flooding from the bad storm the month before, Nesta had suggested the ranch before the panic could settle in. She and Elain promised they would take care of everything. It was the least Nesta could do after being a shit sister for a decade.

Now, the big day was here and everything was going smoothly. Perhaps it was the nerves of having so many people on the land or the fact that the grand opening of the B&B was quickly approaching, but Nesta had been nauseous and nervous all morning.

Damned anxiety.

“Nesta!”

Her sister’s frantic voice sent her running back up the stairs, coffee mug in hand.

Feyre sat at the vanity in her old bedroom, while Mor curled, pinned and perfected her hair. She was drinking a mimosa through a straw, careful not to mess up her lipstick.

“Everything alright?” She asked, setting the cup in front of Mor who mouthed thank you, before continuing to work.

“I forgot my hairpins at the apartment.” She could see Feyre’s eyes welling up with tears and knew Mor would go ballistic if Feyre’s makeup was messed up for a second time, even though the bouquet of roses Rhys had sent as a surprise were gorgeous.

“Don’t cry,” Nesta said, voice calm. “Let me see what I can do.”

Feyre sipped from the straw and nodded, blue-gray eyes wide and teary.

Nesta opened the door to the master bedroom, the one room she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do anything to, and entered the large walk-in closet. She’d decided she wasn’t going to rent the room out, would keep it for family and in case she needed to stay in the house for any reason. Or if she and Cassian just couldn’t make it to one of the other houses.

She blushed, thinking about how he’d taken her against the banister the night before while they were cleaning. Sometimes the man just couldn’t be stopped. Not that she was complaining.

She located the jewelry box tucked in the back of a shelf, and opened it. She knew what she was looking for, but wasn’t even sure if they were in the box, much less if they were even still in the family. But nestled in the bottom, she found the intricate, jeweled pins.

Their mother was a rancher’s wife through and through, but she was never able to give up her love of beauty. A former pageant queen, her hair and makeup were always pristine, even when she was helping breach a calf or roll out a bale of hay. And Nesta has always loved these pins.

She locked the bedroom door as she left and hurried across the hall.

“How about these?” She held them out for Feyre and Mor to see.

Mor nodded and looked at Feyre for confirmation. Feyre didn’t notice though, as her eyes were locked onto Nesta’s outstretched hand.

“Are those...mom’s?” She asked, voice soft.

Nesta nodded. “I found them in her jewelry box. If you don’t like them, I can-.”

She shook her and cleared her throat. “No, they’re perfect.”

Nesta couldn’t place the emotion in Feyre’s voice. She’d been young when their mother passed, didn’t have as many memories with her, and none were particularly fond.

Nesta set down the pins on the vanity so Mor could continue to work her magic.

“Anything else?” Nesta asked, still trying to gauge Feyre’s emotions she slowly backed out of the room.

“No,” Feyre said, downing the rest of her drink. “Actually, another mimosa sounds nice.”

“Okay,” Nesta said, hesitantly, but she wouldn’t argue with the bride. But when she got to the kitchen, Cassian had stepped inside and was standing on the rug, staring longingly at the fridge.

Nesta blinked, crossing her arms as she entered the room. “Problem?”

“Beer,” he said, pointing to the fridge. “My boots are dirty.”

Considered they had spent the entire day before scrubbing the house, Nesta had to admire the fact that he thought about such things.

Laughing under her breath, she went to the fridge, retrieved a cold beer, and walked in back to him on the mat.

“You could’ve just taken your shoes off,” Nesta said, handing it to him.

“I could’ve,” he agreed, voice light, as he pulled her into him by her outstretched hand. He kissed her, softly. “You look tense.”

She shrugged one shoulder, resting her head against his chest, careful not to mess up her hair which had been intricately braided off her face. “I wouldn’t say tense. I just…” She glanced out the window again, to where everything was coming together now that Elain was adding greenery and flowers on every spare surface. “I want everything to be perfect. It’s the least I can do after-.”

“Hey.” He interrupted her, but his voice was gentle, the words were firm. It was a conversation they’d had dozens of times by this point. He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Your sisters love you. They have forgiven you for leaving, even though you were doing what was best for you at the time. You don’t have to keep atoning for it.”

She nodded and Cassian pressed a kiss to her forehead. He pulled back and looked at her, resting the back of his fingers on her cheek. “Are you okay? You feel clammy, baby.”

She shook her head. “I’m okay. Just nervous for...everything.”

He smiled softly and nodded, understanding immediately.

The B&B would be officially re-opening in two weeks and they were booked all the way through the holidays. Nesta was worried she was getting in over her head, but on the nights when she awoke in a panicked, cold sweat, Cassian would pull her into his arms until she could breathe again.

He’d sleepily ask her what her “stupid ten step process for success” was and he’d listen quietly while she listed them. Then he’d ask her what she was specifically worried about. Sometimes she had a reason and they’d talk it through. But more often not, when she admitted that she didn’t know, he’d kiss her and rub her back until she dozed back off.

No one had ever loved her the way Cassian Nazari loved her.

Instead of making her feel like a burden for her anxieties, he wanted to help her work through them. When she’d snap at him after a long day, he’d make some smart ass response, often angering her further, but she’d soon realize he was just trying to distract her. She’d find him and wouldn’t even have to say anything before he’d wrap her in his arms and press a kiss to the top of her head.

He embraced all of the things she hated about herself and he loved them for her.

“Have a drink,” he suggested, cracking open his beer. He grinned as she rolled her eyes, and kissed her one last time before taking his can with him back out onto the porch.

“I’ve got to get ready,” he said, looking back at her as he meandered back into the warm sunlight. “Or else the bride will have my balls.”

“True,” Nesta laughed, leaning against the doorframe as she watched him walk away. “Use the lavender soap, you stink.”

“It’s my natural musk,” he protested, boots thudding down the porch steps.

Nesta chuckled, watching him jog while chugging his beer, heading down the long dirt path to his cabin.

She sighed, as a cool breeze kissed her face and she smiled. She never stopped being amazed that someone like Cassian could be hers, that he chose her over everyone else. 

Her phone vibrated in her back pocket and she checked it.

You were looking at my butt, weren’t you?

She looked down the path, where he had disappeared before replying. Obviously.

She had taken a step back into the kitchen, where the caterers had vacated. She had told Feyre that she’d love to cater, but she hadn’t had enough hands for the 150 guests they had invited. Besides, Feyre had protested, claiming that she wanted her sister to not have to worry about a thing, as she was now a very important part of the bridal party. 

Which she really had to finish getting ready for. Mor had already done Nesta’s hair but she was going to do her own makeup alongside Elain, who would be back any second with the bouquets. 

Her phone vibrated, once more, just as she was about to get Feyre’s mimosa refill. 

Well now I’m turned on, damn it, come shower with me.

Nesta snorted at the words on her screen. She sent him the middle finger emoji as the image of him in the shower flashed through her mind. She let that image linger as she filled her sister’s mimosa request.

“Sorry I’m late, I’m here!” Elain blew through the backdoor, a whirlwind of white lilies and lavender cosmos, scaring the shit out of Nesta and making her jump, sloshing orange juice across the counter.

Elain set the vases holding their bouquets on the table and asked, “How’s Feyre holding up?”

Nesta was wiping everything down with a damp paper towel, and held out the glass. Elain took it from her as she said, “This is her fourth mimosa.”

Elain sighed, “Oh, that’s not so bad-.”

“Since lunch,” Nesta added, pulling two more champagne flutes from the cabinet.

Elain muttered, “Oh, gods.”

“Exactly, so,” Nesta said, pouring two more glasses of champagne, and topping them with orange juice. “Go give that to Future Mrs. Lunasa and then come meet me in the bathroom so I can do your makeup while Mor finishes her hair.”

“Deal,” Elain said, and followed her sister’s directions. Nesta took one more quick look around the grounds, making sure everything was going as it should, before meeting Elain in the bathroom. While Nesta did Elain’s makeup, she confessed that she thought Azriel would be proposing any day. He’d been dropping little hints, so Elain thought, and Nesta had to admit that she saw it, too.

It was nice to see her sister so happy, being loved by such a gentle, genuine soul. 

“And if he does propose?” Nesta asked, finishing the pink stain on Elain’s plump lips. “Do you already have it all planned out? Your wedding?”

“Of course,” Elain said, smiling brightly. “Same wedding I planned when I was ten.”

Nesta laughed as Elain looked in the mirror and beamed. She turned, fishing through her makeup bag for her concealer.

“What about Cassian?” Elain asked.

The question brought Nesta up short. She froze, blinking a few times as she processed what she’d just been asked. “What about him?” She asked, applying the concealer and blending it.

“Things have been going well,” Elain prodded, wanting Nesta to give her the saucy details like Feyre was so prone to. “Have you thought about whether he might…”

Nesta raised an eyebrow, raising her glass to her lips. She needed something stronger than champagne. “Might what?”

“Might ask you to marry him, of course.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Nesta nearly sprayed orange juice and champagne all over the bathroom. “We’ve only been together for three months!”

“Officially three months,” Elain corrected. “You’ve been sleeping together for four.”

Nesta rolled her eyes as she mixed highlighter into the concealer and dabbed it onto her cheekbone. “So romantic.” Elain stared at her in the mirror. “It’s only been three months. We’re not talking about this.”

“And?” She said, crossing her arms. “You’re perfect for each other.”

“That doesn’t mean we should rush into a marriage!”

Elain’s smile was soft but her eyes were full of mischief as she said, “Whatever you say.”

“Whatever I say?” Nesta repeated. “You better not bring this subject up to him.”

“Why is that?” Elain asked, looking at herself in the mirror one final time. “And that isn’t something I’d do at all.”

“That’s exactly something you’d do,” Nesta muttered. “And I’m fully aware that he calls you for every little thing, so don’t be getting any ideas of trying to persuade him into a proposal.”

“Oh, Nesta,” Elain sighed, shaking her head as she picked up a blending sponge to assist her older sister. “It’s cute how you think he needs persuading.”

Nesta closed her eyes and sighed, fully intending to say something snarky back that Cassian would have been proud of, but when she opened her eyes, she clamped a hand over her mouth, and rushed to the toilet, emptying the contents of her stomach.

“Oh shit,” Elain cried, rushing over and pulling the length of Nesta’s hair over her shoulder, and holding it back. After she heaved another two times, and was clear there wouldn’t be a third, she asked, “Are you okay?”

Nesta nodded, grabbing some toilet paper and wiping her mouth and flushing the toilet. “I’m fine, I just need to brush my teeth. I’ve been a wreck over the opening and knowing everyone will be here today…”

Elain’s face softened. “Oh, honey. You should have told us you were nervous. We’ve been available to help with whatever you need.”

Nesta shook her head. “You’ve been so busy with Feyre’s florals and she’s been busy with everything else, Cass and I have taken care of it all.” She made her way to the sink and quickly brushed her teeth. After rinsing her mouth and making sure she hadn’t somehow wrecked her hair, Nesta continued, “Besides, there’s nothing I’m specifically worried about. It’s just me, overthinking things, as always.”

Elain’s eyes softened. Nesta could tell she wanted to say something more, but she just nodded. “Well, let me get you some water, at least, and when I come back I’ll finish your makeup. Okay?”

“Thanks,” Nesta breathed, and when Elain left, she fell down in the chair they had brought into the middle of the bathroom floor. She closed her eyes to try and tame her racing heart, but it did no good. She pulled out her phone to see if Cassian had texted, which he had, but there were no words.

Instead it was a picture of Beau, the ring bearer, wearing a bow tie hooked to his collar. Nesta chuckled to herself before putting her phone on the counter. Once Elain came back, she tentatively sipped from the water bottle she’d brought as Elain finished up her makeup.

Then, the announcement came.

“Alright, bridesmaids!” Mor called from down the hall. “Come see the bride!”

They hurried back into her bedroom, where Mor was pinning Feyre’s veil into place.

“Feyre,” Elain breathed, a hand over her mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

And she did, with her smokey eye and loose waves, her dress shimmering like the stars with every movement she made.

She was about to cry and Feyre, emotions fueled by the mimosas, bless her heart, was already tearing up.

She turned and looked at herself in the mirror. “I’m about to get married.”

Mor pressed a kiss to Feyre’s cheek and quietly left the room, giving the sisters a moment of privacy.

Nesta watched as Elain moved and embraced their sister. Feyre hugged her, but her eyes lifted and connected with Nesta’s identical pair. She smiled softly, and Nesta returned it, stepping closer.

“Sort of makes us look bad, you know,” she said, gesturing to Elain and herself, sitting on the foot of the bed. “The youngest getting married first.” She winked and Feyre laughed, while Elain hurried down to the kitchen where she’d left their bouquets.

She came back a moment later, bouquets in hand.

“Here,” she said to Feyre, handing her the most extravagant one.

For a moment, as Feyre turned to the mirror, once more, they all just stared in awe and wonder. Then, Nesta looked at the clock.

“Thirty minutes,” she announced, quietly.

Feyre bounced impatiently in front of the mirror as Nesta and Elain put the finishing touches on themselves and slipped into their midnight blue dresses. Thirty minutes later, the three of them were standing in the kitchen, Feyre and her bridesmaids.

“Ready?” Nesta whispered.

“Yeah,” Feyre breathed.

Elain and Nesta would walk down the aisle on their own, since Cassian would be walking with Feyre.

Nesta glanced out the window, watching for Rhys to step out of the stable door and stand next to Kallias, who would be officiating the ceremony. When he appeared, she looked over to Feyre and said, “It’s time.”

Nesta was the first one down the aisle, and though this day was not for her, she enjoyed seeing the faces of old friends and people from her childhood and high school days she had all but forgotten about. But there were also some unexpected faces in the crowd.

That of Tamlin, for instance, the one serious boyfriend Feyre had had aside from Rhysand. As far as she had known, they’re split was less than amicable, so his presence today was shocking.

Elain followed, smiling at Azriel, who stood next to Rhysand, the entire way down. Then they all stood and turned to face the main house, where Cassian waited just outside of the kitchen door. He held out his hand, and Feyre stepped out, her long, lace train trailing behind her as she walked out onto the back porch and looped her arm through Cassian’s.

The sight made Nesta breathless. 

He looked so proud, so happy for Feyre as he walked her forward, down the aisle. Their parents couldn’t be there. Their father couldn’t walk her down the aisle. But Cassian loved Feyre like she was family, of that she had no doubt, and was honored to fill the position.

The ceremony was short, but it was personal and exactly what Feyre and Rhys had always wanted. They cared more about the fact that they were finally, finally married, and that it was time to celebrate with their friends and family.

The stables had just been completed a couple weeks beforehand, and rather than immediately moving the horses in, they decided to use it to house the reception. The doors were opened to reveal long tables set for an elegant feast. Lights were strung around, and it looked like something from an ethereal garden.

Nesta stood just outside as the guests milled about, mingling in small and large groups, dancing and laughing, finally able to let out a breath after hearing their praises.

Cassian met her there, just outside of the doors as the sun sunk low behind the distant hills.

“Hey,” he smiled, softly. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how beautiful you look.”

Nesta shook her head as he took her hand and pressed his lips to it. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Oh, I know,” he crooned, nodding politely to those who greeted him in passing. “You did great, you know. This place looks amazing. I’ve been hearing people talk about it all night and there’s a lot of night left.”

“I did great?” She laughed, gesturing to the building in front of them. “I decorated and bought some overpriced furniture. You… Cassian, you built this.”

“For you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I built this for you, for us.”

“I love you,” she said, leaning back into him.

 He pressed a kiss to the hollow of her neck. “I love you too.” They quietly observed as their friends and family celebrated Rhys and Feyre and their love for each other. They watched as he spun her around the dance floor, Elain and Azriel swaying slowly off to the side. His lips were by her ear when he asked, “Do you want to go in?”

She just wrapped his arms around her tighter and said, “I think I’m fine right here for now.”

They waited outside the open doors, watching the guests flow in and get comfortable, then get served. She was certain Cassian was starving, but he never strayed from her said, and Nesta’s day had been so anxiety-filled that the nausea from earlier lingered and food was not yet her friend. So they remained until the cake was cut and they were called in for speeches. Cassian made one, making everyone laugh, which was no surprise. Then Elain made one, making Feyre cry, which also wasn’t a surprise. And while everyone finished up their desserts and sipped from their alcohol-filled glasses, Feyre and Rhysand were called to the dance floor to begin the festivities with their official first dance, though they’d already been dancing together all night.

Rhysand took his bride into his arms and planted a kiss on her mouth as the slow song began to play. They swayed back and forth, and it was such an intimate moment that Nesta could hardly contain the whirlwind of emotions that swept throughout her body. She leaned back into Cassian's solid frame as they watched.

Until a figure appeared on the edge of the parquet floor, looking for all the world like he would run at the happy couple. The fact that he slowly strolled to them in the center of the floor was almost more unsettling, so casual and cool. Rhysand’s back was to him, and Feyre was so focused on the way Rhys was looking at her that she didn’t notice him until his hand was gripping her elbow.

Cassian stiffened, his arms tightening around Nesta protectively. “What the hell is O’Brien doing here?”

There wasn’t time to answer, though, because Tamlin had pulled Feyre out of Rhysand’s arms and had sloppily pressed his mouth to Feyre’s. The older guests were appalled while everyone else was generally confused. 

Cassian was moving toward the dance floor, as was Azriel, but there was no need because Rhysand had grabbed Tamlin by the collar and was hauling him off his wife.

Then Rhysand’s fist met Tamlin’s jaw.

It was a whirlwind of shouts and insults, Cassian grabbing Rhys, while Lucien appeared out of nowhere and stood in front of his friend, disappointment written all over his face. Azriel had put Feyre behind him, blocking Tamlin from making another move, but also keeping Feyre hidden from his sight.

“She was mine!” Tamlin’s raised voice was slurred and the way he leaned on Lucien left no doubt that he was plastered, no doubt thanks to the open bar they had provided. “You couldn’t stand me having her, so you took her from me! You’ve always taken everything!”

“Tamlin, this isn’t the time,” Lucien mumbled, trying to steer him away from the commotion, but he was too strong.

“You wore my ring first!” He said, a finger pointed at Feyre, who’d run to Rhys, clinging to his arm. “This was supposed to be our day.”

The words were sad, empty. There was no anger on the faces of their family, only pity.

“I left, Tamlin,” she said, her voice small, but firm. “He didn’t take me, I left. Just like you need to leave now.”

“Fuck you!” His words were like a lance to her heart, even after all these years, but the cold chill that went down her spine replaced the anguish at his next action.

Tamlin pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at Rhys.

Everyone in the room stilled.

Nesta felt like she was going to vomit. Cassian’s hand still rested on Rhysand’s shoulder. She could tell by the look in his damned hazel eyes that he wanted to jump in front of his friend, but he didn’t move, no one did, scared that any sudden movement would set Tamlin off.

But Tamlin was set off, anyway.

With a shaky hand, he pulled the trigger, and the shot went off. The loud bang rang out through the stables, and Feyre cried out with a miserable, horrid scream. 

But Rhysand hadn’t been hit.

Tamlin had missed as the gun fell from his hand, unexpected recoil jarring him. Lucien quickly scooped up the weapon as Tamlin stared wide-eyed at his shaking hands, as if he was surprised he had really done such a thing.

It took Nesta a second to realize, though, that the bullet hadn't missed everyone.

Cassian’s knees hit the floor, breathing already shallow as he pressed a hand to the red splotch blossoming from his chest, stark against the white of his shirt.

Nesta didn’t realize the cry she heard had come from her until Elain was wrapping her arms around her, supporting her as she tried to run for the dance floor.

Azriel took off after Tamlin’s retreating form, already half obscured in the darkness of the woods surrounding the property. Rhys helped flip Cassian over on his back and he was trying to keep him talking while tending to his wound, ripping the shirt away, his EMT training kicking in.

Nesta was frozen in place. She pushed Elain off of her and went to Cassian’s side, kneeling beside his head.

“Hey,” she breathed, taking his face into her hands. He looked up at her with wide, frantic eyes. “You’re okay, just talk to me.”

“Ambulance is on their way,” Feyre announced, phone held up to her ear. 

“Doesn’t hurt that bad,” he muttered. “Do I look tough?”

Nesta tried to laugh, but she just started crying harder. His eyes were shimmery, focus fading in and out.

“Cass, don’t you dare go to sleep,” Rhys said, tearing the shirt to pieces and pressing it into the wound. Cassian swore as Rhys applied pressure, and when red started coating the fresh fabric, he cursed as well.

Cassian’s eyes started to flutter closed as Rhys breathed, “It's so close to his heart, I don’t know if it hit an artery or-.”

Azriel burst back through the crowd. “I lost him. I think he left the property.”

“I’ll go with you to the police station,” Elain said, softly, face pale as she watched Cassian.

Azriel nodded and they were off. 

An ambulance pulled onto the property a moment later.

Helion was out the door, a crazed look in his eye. He and his partner ran over to where Cassian and Rhys were on the ground, the former nearly unconscious.

“Man, when I said I wished I could come to your wedding, this isn’t what I meant,” Helion said, barely registering Nesta’s presence as he felt for Cassian’s vitals.

Rhys' hair was falling into his eyes, but his hands were coated in his best friend’s blood, so he shook it away. “I figured you’d need a dramatic entrance.”

“Is this really the time?” Feyre asked, kneeling next to her sister, dirt and blood soaking into her pristine wedding dress. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Just trying to keep it light,” Helion mumbled. He raised his voice. “Cass. Hey, man, need you to stay with me.”

Cassian’s eyes fluttered open, hazily looking around him. They settled on Nesta and he tried to say something but his eyes rolled back in his head and he was gone.

“Cassian!” Nesta cried, feeling so utterly helpless, she didn’t know what to do.

Helion glanced at Rhys. “I can’t tell if the bullet grazed his heart or if it’s in an artery, but he’s lost a lot of blood.” He looked around at the wedding guests. “We need to clear these people out, to wait for the police, but we have to get him to the hospital. Now.”

Cassian was loaded into the ambulance, Rhysand going inside with him, but Nesta was still frozen in place, sitting in her blood-soaked gown on the ground. 

“Come on,” Feyre whispered, helping Nesta to her feet. “I’ll drive.”

They hadn’t driven for more than ten minutes, but the ride from the ranch to the hospital felt like it took forever. The entire time, Nesta’s heart was racing, her hands shaking as the worst case scenario constantly flew through her mind.

“Did you…” Nesta’s voice sounded far away, even to herself. “Did you invite him?”

Feyre cleared her throat. “No, of course not. I know you weren’t around, but I’m sure Elain filled you in on the details.”

Nesta shook her head. “We didn’t talk much.”

Feyre glanced over at her. “It...wasn’t pretty.”

Nesta knew she should be asking Feyre how she was doing. Nesta’s boyfriend may have been shot, but the gun was pointed at Feyre’s husband, on her wedding day. And yet, as her mouth opened, nothing more came out. So Nesta reached across the middle console and took her sister’s hand. Feyre’s fingers wrapped around Nesta’s, tightly.

After that, neither of them said a word.

Once they parked, Nesta and Feyre were hurrying across the parking lot. They saw Rhysand outside of the ER once they arrived.

His suit was drenched in Cassian’s blood.

Feyre ran into his arms as Nesta blurted, “How is he?”

“Breathing,” Rhysand answered, but his face was pale. “They’re doing what they can. They just rushed him back.”

“How did he-.” A sob finally broke from Feyre, cutting off any other words, after she’d been so strong on the way. Rhys just wrapped her up in his arms and held his new wife as she began to cry into his chest. He buried his face in her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Nesta quietly entered the hospital, giving them the private moment they needed. She hadn’t realized she lost her shoes until she felt the cold tile under her feet. She didn’t know how much of Cassian’s blood was on her, hadn’t had a chance to look in a mirror, but it must have been a lot. The second she entered the waiting room, two nurses rushed to her, asking if she was okay, if she was injured, if the blood was hers.

She shook her head and when she said, “Cassian Nazari,” recognition dawned.

“He’s in surgery,” the younger of the two said, keeping her voice gentle. “It could be a little while before we know anything.”

Nesta silently nodded and walked to the chairs in the corner, her long gown swishing as it skimmed the floor. She sat down, letting her head fall into her hands.

When she pulled them away, she noticed they were still coated in Cassian’s blood.

Nesta could no longer stop the sob that broke from her. She stared at her hands as she cried, caught the tears that had streamed down her face, peppering the dried, crimson blood that coated her skin with wet, light pink spots. She knew she was a mess, knew she looked like she had lived through a horror movie, but she didn’t care. She would stay in that chair until he woke up. 

And he would wake up.

Because if he didn’t…

No, she wouldn’t think of the alternative.

Nesta cried until the nausea brewing in her stomach overtook her, and she dropped to her knees by the closest wastebasket and hurled, the heaves wracking her body.

“Are you okay?” She glanced up and found the same sweet nurse a few feet away. She nodded, but heaved again. The nurse hurried away, returning with a water bottle and a few wet paper towels. She gave her the water bottle and when Nesta took it, the nurse took her hand and began to wipe it down with the warm rag. “What’s your name, honey?”

She cleared her throat and answered, “Nesta, ma’am.”

She smiled at the manners, and reached for the other hand, which Nesta willingly handed it over. After a moment, all that remained of Cassian’s blood was under her nails. “Nesta Nazari or…?”

She shook her head. “Archeron. Cassian is my boyfriend.”

She gently patted the back of Nesta’s hand. “You’re Feyre’s sister.” At Nesta’s surprised blink, she said, “I’m Viviane. Kallias is my husband. He’s in good hands, honey. I promise.” She reached for the small trash can, seeing it was empty, despite Nesta retching in it multiple times. “Have you eaten today?”

The thought of food nearly had her ripping the can out of her hands and heaving again. She shook her head and without another word, Viviane was heading for the desk.

She came back a moment later with a consent form and a pack of crackers. 

“I know you’ve been through a lot,” Vivian said. “And tell me to mind my own business if you wish, but I think you may be dehydrated and I’d like to bring you back and get you fluids. You’ll still be waiting, and I’ll still let you know as soon as there is word on your boyfriend...but, if you haven’t eaten all day and you’ve been getting sick...I’d like to help.”

Nesta nodded, jaw locked. It had been a long day of nausea, and if Nesta passed out when Cassian woke up...she didn’t want to miss it. “Okay.”

Viviane asked her a few questions before escorting her back to a room. She helped Nesta out of her bloody bridesmaid dress and into a hospital gown. After Nesta sat on the cot, she was hooked up to an IV machine and getting fluids pumped into her. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” Viviane said. “Press the button on the remote. I’ll be back to check on you soon.”

She nodded, unsure of her voice and stared at her bare legs hanging over the edge of the bed. She heard the door click shut and sat there in the silence. She glanced over at her IV, watching the slow drip. She wondered if they’d given her some sort of sedative as well, because she knew she must have been hysterical in the waiting room.

All at once, she realized she didn’t have anything. She didn’t have her purse, her phone, her keys. She needed to call Elain, needed to let her know where she was.

She turned, seeing the remote attached to the back of the bed. Swinging her legs up and laying back, she reached for the remote in its cradle. The IV tugged and Nesta sucked a sharp breath in through her teeth. She couldn’t reach the remote, not without possibly blowing her IV. She sighed and settled back into the pillows, waiting for Viviane to return so she could ask her to let Feyre know where she was.

As she laid there, her eyelids became heavier and she let out a soft, quiet sob as the day's events dragged her into a fitful sleep.

Nesta woke hours later in a panic, but she wasn’t alone. Elain laid on the couch, sleeping soundly on Azriel’s lap, who was using the back of the couch as a pillow.

Nesta pulled herself up and whispered her name. “Lainy?”

Elain was instantly alert, eyes wide as she saw her sister. “Thank goodness.”

But Nesta was shaking her head. “Cass?”

Elain hesitated. “Out of surgery, but still not awake. Rhysand and Feyre are sitting with him now.”

“I want to see him,” Nesta said, feeling her eyes well up with tears, once again. She threw the thin blanket that was covering her - Viviane, no doubt, bless her heart - and moved to get off the bed.

Elain was up, gently grabbing Nesta’s shoulders and making her sit back down. “Nes, wait, you need to rest.”

“I need to see Cassian,” Nesta said, a little louder than before. “Let me go see him.”

“Just wait a few minutes, okay?” Elain said, attempting to reason with her. “It’s the middle of the night.”

Nesta shook her head, trying to stop the tears from running down her face. “I don’t care what time it is, he needs me.”

“We need to tell you something, Nes.”

Both women stopped struggling to look over at Azriel, his head tipped back, voice still deep from sleep.

“What?” Nesta asked, voice full of panic. “What happened? What’s wrong with Cass?”

Elain’s eyes softened as she took her sister’s hands in her own. “Nothing. I told you, he’s unconscious, but steady.”

“Then what is it?” Nesta asked, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “I’m not following, I don’t understand. Is it Tamlin?”

“Just…” Elain’s words trailed off as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Azriel was watching them both wearily. “They took tests when they first brought you back here, right?”

Nesta nodded, slowly.

“Well, the results came in while you were asleep,” Elain said, words coming out quickly as she nibbled on her bottom lip. “Nesta, you’re pregnant.” 

[azsazz]

Thinking of rancher cass 🤠

Oh you mean grumpy Rancher Cassian who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman for years?

Rancher Cassian who drives his beat old pickup into town one last time before the storms set in for the winter and he’ll be unable to make it into town until the snow melts in spring? The rusted out truck with over 300,000 miles on it? It was his fathers and as long as it runs he’ll drive it.

That’s how Rancher Cassian is. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. The shutter is hanging on by one bolt? He’ll wait until it falls off because there’s too much for him to do around the ranch. The chair has a crooked leg? He’ll sit in it until it collapses under his weight, then, out of spite, he’ll eat his dinners leaning up against the counter as he glares at said chair, sitting broken on the floor.

Rancher Cassian who is at the mercantile, freshening his supplies for the winter. Maybe he grabs a candy bar and shoves it under the pile of things he carries to the register because god forbid someone sees him with a colorful candy bar in his hands. He nods to the women who greet him and shakes the hands of the men who know him, trying to joke with the grumpy rancher about how maybe they’ll see one of his purebreds up in the state rodeo come summer.

Rancher Cassian who’s not one for conversation. Ignores the women who tend to leer without knowing, staring at the jeans that fit tightly around his muscular thighs, the stretch of his flannel across his broad shoulders, the large boot prints from his brown, worn cowboy boots on the dusty road he leaves behind, the always fresh looking cowboy hat that sits atop his flowing hair that he hasn’t bothered to get around to cutting. He’s sure he’ll find the time when he’s snowed up on the farm, between braving the winter storms to check his herd and whatever else needs tending. He doesn’t care about anything more than he cares about his mares.

Rancher Cassian who hears an unladylike curse coming from up the street, where you stand, arms crossed over your chest and accentuating your breasts as you glare at the car that’s decided to break down on you without warning.

Rancher Cassian who tosses his things into the bed of his truck before approaching you like you’re a wild stallion he’s trying to rope down. Your eyes are red with frustrated, unshed tears, and normally the emotion would scare him away, have him jumping into his truck to get back to his ranch, but you’re too gorgeous not to.

You’re not from around here, and Cassian knows this not because he knows everyone in the small town he’s never left in his life, but because of the clothing you wear. Where did you come from, wearing that of all things? 

Rancher Cassian who tips his hat and asks, “Do you need help here, ma’am?” He watches the way your eyebrows pull together and your lip lifting in a grimace. 

Your eyes rake hot lines down his body, branding him like he does his horses, a hot iron red with heat against his heart, and he’s gone before he ever really knows it. 

“(Y/N),” you respond flatly, piercing eyes snapping back up to meet his. “Not ma’am. (Y/N).”

His eyes narrow a little but he doesn’t respond, tight-lipped and waiting for your answer to his question. 

You wait him out, a stubborn little thing you are. He reckons he could pull you right up into his chest and swallow you whole, that’s how small you are compared to himself. But there’s that fire in your eyes, you don’t want to relent, but the sun is quickly setting in the sky and the brusque breeze turns colder, causing you to shiver.

“Yes, please.” 

Rancher Cassian who looks at your car and tells you the bad news. “Part will take weeks to get here, but I can let the repairman in town know. He can get your car towed over there tonight. I’d suggest checking out the inn at the edge of town. It’s not much, but there’s a storm coming in and you’re going to want to have a place to stay.”

You groan like you cannot believe your luck, and he gets it. No one wants to stay in the bum fuck of nowhere in the small town that houses barely over a hundred people. Cassian doesn’t mind the seclusion, though, up on his ranch with his horses and the beauty of the nature surrounding it, it’s serene. 

He doesn’t know why he does it, if it’s the tears lining your eyes or your defeated posture, but he offers up his own truck. “It’s not much, but it’ll get you where you need to go,” he promises. “I just need a ride up to my ranch and you can bring it back when your car is fixed.” He doesn’t say that he knows it’s going to snow badly soon, or that you’ll be unable to return it to him before the snow melts. 

You really look like you could cry now, with how nice he is. It makes him uncomfortable, shifting on his feet as you hastily wipe your eyes, accepting his offer with a thanks that is so sincere it makes him question what you’re running from. 

Of course, by the time he helps you get the car towed to the auto shop and he’s pulling into the drive, the snow is coming down in droves. The both of you race into his house as the storm rages on. Cassian shows you to his spare room and sets you up there, then goes to start a fire in the fireplace. 

Come morning the snow still hasn’t stopped and it’s so thick he can hardly make out the barn from the kitchen window, but there are chores to be done and you haven’t shown your face yet for breakfast, so he leaves the coffee pot on and bundles up, heading outside.

He knows that he should’ve forced you to stay at the hotel in town. He should’ve told you about the storms and how there’s no way you’ll be able to make your way back into town in these conditions. He’s an asshole for keeping quiet, but there’s a selfish part of him that wants to keep you trapped up here with him, so that he can get to know you.

i love rancher cassian gdamn

[incognitajones]

📓

(last one!)

Okay, so this is totally, 100% inspired by the genius headcanon based on Cassian's official Spotify playlist:

Jyn is an ex-con trying to get across the country for a fresh start when her crappy used car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, southwest USA.

Cassian is a farmer? rancher? who pulls over in his dusty pickup to give this stranded motorist a ride into town before she gets heatstroke. He winds up getting his head bitten off for his trouble yet can't help but like her. For handwavey reasons (her car can't get repaired right away, or she has to earn enough to pay for it), Jyn ends up having to stick around for a few weeks during which they fall for each other. But she's determined to make it to the coast, and Cassian is tied to his land and can't leave...

I hadn't figured out all of the other roles in this one but Kay was the small town accountant, and Bodhi was an Air Force vet with PTSD.

Thank you!

[sassysnowperson]

February Ficlet Challenge: 28 Days / 28 Pairings

Day 27: Fairytale!AU 

For: @ladililn

There was a princess, a tower, a dragon, a knight.

There was also a spy, and that changed things up a bit.

The knight issued his challenge, the dragon roared in response, and Cassian rolled his eyes. If the knight was so eager for a toasted death, Cassian was going to take advantage of the distraction.

Cassian carefully scaled the outside of the tower. His fingers were shredded by the rough stone but he pressed through the ache, eventually reaching the window. Cassian tumbled through it, eyes darting around as he came to his feet. He needed to know where—

There was a blade at his throat, whisper-bright line of pain as it bit against the skin.

“Well if it isn’t the fairweather Captain Andor?”

“Princess Leia,” Cassian answered carefully. She could kill him.

She had every right to kill him.

(Continued past cut)

“Oh come off it, Andor, we both know you’re no loyalist. Is your new master trying a new tactic in our showy stalemate? Sneaking in won’t count, you do have to actually slay the dragon to claim my hand.”

“Palpatine grew tired of your exaggerated deference to tradition. He knows you’re leading the Rebellion from here. He decided to do away with your dragon, paid your supplier to dose cows with arsenic.”

The blade jerked against his neck and Cassian continued, “He asked me to arrange it. I did, then took the evidence and released it to the public. The rancher is disgraced, the people are frothing over the attempt at drawing short the courtship. Palpatine won’t try that again.”

“Why?” Leia asked.

“Why?”

“Why are you here? Why save my dragon?” The blade faltered, then Leia’s eyes flashed and it was steady against his pulse again. “Why did you open the gates? My parents trusted you!”

“I am here,” Cassian began, “because you alone have the right to decide my fate. I saved your dragon because the charade needs to continue long enough for the Rebellion to gather forces. And I opened the gates…” Cassian’s mouth went dry as he remembered the screams of that night. “…on your mother’s orders. So that, when the moment was right, I could ensure Palpatine’s plans failed.”

The sword clattered to the floor. “No.”

“He was too strong. He was going to break through the walls. It would be a massacre. If someone let him in…many could be spared.”

“That…sounds like her.”

Cassian closed his eyes, head bowed by the guilt of that day. “Regardless, my actions lead to their deaths. My life is yours to claim.”

He heard Leia pick up the sword. “On your knees.”

Cassian fell to his knees, eyes still shut. The end would be quick, at least.

The flat of the blade laid against his shoulder. Cassian’s eyes flew open.

“I name you Sir Andor the Faithful.” Leia proclaimed.

Cassian’s eyes went wide. “I am not worthy of—”

“Mine to claim,” Leia snapped. “I’m claiming it Now rise, Sir Andor, and…welcome to the Rebellion.”

[sarahjtrash]

Not That Religious

After reading Wings and Embers, I’m pretty sure that most people want Cassian to pummel Tom-ass Mandray (myself included), but I thought it’d be a little fun to let Nesta deal with him. And it’s super random, but this is a Western!Au. Enjoy!

The stranger had hiked himself through the door like he owned the place, every day for the past two weeks. He strutted in at noon, tipped his hat at noon o’ one, and sat himself down at the bar in the back at noon o’ two. It took him a whole two minutes to walk across a room that was maybe twelve meters long. The arrogance. Nesta Archeron every day at noon, for the past week and six days, had found herself in the stockroom. By noon o’ three, she found herself leaving the kitchen from the door on the far end of the bar from the stranger. She twirled herself with her large tray, so the man only saw her back. He’d offered his name two weeks ago, but other than to watch out for it, Nesta willed her thoughts far away from it. From the spurs on his boots to the clean white hat on his head, the man screamed dangerous and clueless. Honestly, what kind of man kept a perfectly white brim in the desert, then advertise he’s a cowboy? Not one that Nesta has ever heard of that’s for sure. She carried the tray stacked with two mugs of ale over to another man by the front. With his brim pulled low over his eyes, Nesta was not sure whether he was awake or not. Every day he entered the bar, sat in the same flaking booth, never said a word, and pulled the mugs off the tray. No one ever learned his name, he just adopted that of “Ian”. When the mugs hit the table, Nesta turned back towards the bar to see Feyre taking the man’s order. The smirk on the man’s face made her skin crawl. It mirrored the one he gave her two weeks ago. She didn't intervene, though, because Feyre’s glare already buried him six feet under. Years ago, their father opened their saloon for wayward travelers and ranchers alike who found themselves in the middle of nowhere. Although they were surrounded by harsh, barren land on all sides, there were a few men in town who managed to make a decent living raising cattle and horses on their respective properties. There were virtually no women in town, save for the Archerons, and this translated in their incredibly gender slanted patrons. When the man at the counter had entered the first time, Nesta assumed that he would be the same as every other male in these parts: near silent, but never disrespectful. She had been incredibly wrong. He had walked, making his traditional slow procession, though unlike now, Nesta approached him before he even hit the seat. “What can I get for, ya?” she asked in a voice that was unnaturally optimistic, but usually earned more tips. He set his hat onto the bar, and slowly dragged his eyes over her body. “I’m not really sure, but I’ll take whatever you offer.” Nesta hid her glare at his look and the words. “Well on special, we got two types of stew and a meat pie. We got almost any type of liquor you can imagine migrating its way into these parts.” Meaning their selection was small, incredibly so, but this man already knew that.

“I’d like whatever’s your strongest. Two glasses. And one of those meat pies.” Nesta turned to fill two glasses with clear spirits, shouting into the kitchen about the food. When she turned to slide the glasses towards the man, he quickly slid one back at her.

It took her a moment. “I don’t drink on shift, nor do I drink things from strangers.”

He smirked. “Well that’s a damn shame because I really can’t hold my liquor.”

“You’re still going to have to pay for it.”

He shook his head, out of surprise for her response. “If you won’t take the drink, fine. But tell me a little bout yourself.”

“Ain’t much more than what you see here. I’ve been working here as a waitress for a few years now. My sister even longer. This town usually feels too small. I don’t think there’s much else. Yourself?” She heard a huff come from a patron near the front.

“I’ve been a traveler for the past few years now. I got no siblings who’ve been doing it longer. Catch work when I can. A little here. A little there. I like to think myself a cowboy.”

“What brought you through here?”

“There’s work on the other side of the desert, and this was the fastest way through.”

“So you travel by yourself?”

He nodded. Before she could say anything more, his meat pie appeared on the serving counter which Nesta promptly received and gave to the man.

“Sounds pretty lonely,” she admitted.

“It can be. But, every now and then I meet a kind soul like yourself, and I believe everything’s gonna be alright.”

“I don’t think a lot of people would describe me as kind.”

They were quiet for a few moments. He scarfed down his meat pie, and Nesta just watched him.

“May I ask what your name is?” she inquired.

“Sure. If the pretty lady will go out with me tonight?”

Nesta nodded. “Tomas. Tomas Mandray.”

Reaching out her hand to shake his outstretched one, she responded, “Nesta. Nesta Archeron.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Her father called from the bar.

Trying to be subtle, Nesta planned her date in the late evening, almost early morning hours. Her dress was the fanciest she owned, for instead of it being gray or brown, it was a subtle lilac color. It cost her almost everything she had ever saved, and she kept it sealed inside her closet to hide it from any dust. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe that an opportunity would present itself where she could wear it. She also never dreamed that her father would try to stop her if the situation arose.

“Out,” she replied coyly.

Her father looked at her, but he never tried to stop her. Though, she never thought he would.

She raced through the door, eager to find Tomas. Even though she knew she was early, she thought he should have at least attempted to put his best leg forward. The wait wasn’t long, but Tomas still showed about five minutes late.

“Hey hon,” he drawled, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Hey stranger.” It served as both a description and a nickname. “What have you got planned for us tonight?”

“Seeing as we very well can’t go out to eat at this hour, I thought we could ride through the city.”

Nesta would never admit that she had not ridden a horse since she was a child, but she did admit, “I did not wear this dress just to ruin it while ridding a horse in a dead end town that I could walk through blind folded.”

A smirk grew on his face. “We can walk if that’s going to save that dress.”

“No, we’re riding the horse. You’re just going to take me to the limits so that I can see something I’ve only seen a handful of times.”

He had noticeably stilled. “What’s that?”

“An undisturbed horizon.” He didn't say anything.

“I will take myself there on your horse if I have to, now that the thought of the outskirts is in my mind.”

Although Tomas was noticeably quieter, he led her to his dusted brown horse. Surrounding themselves in silence as they left the town, Nesta rode side saddle, taking in the scenery around them and the way Tomas arms lightly brushed against her sides. When they arrived, the geography took Nesta’s breath away.

The full moon shone enough light to trace the horizon. She could see for miles. They sat on the horse, watching the distance for what was both ample time and not enough. Nesta always knew that she wanted to leave this town and their saloon. However, she always thought she'd do it alone, but Tomas had presented a way out when he entered her town.

“When you leaving?” she voiced aloud.

He drummed his fingers against the sides of the horse’s neck. “Probably sometime soon. I really need to rake in some money, but I may have taken a little detour.” His arms squeezed her sides.

“I don’t really jump onto the first man that enters the town. I got higher standards than that.”

“You callin’ me low standards?”

Nesta squinted her eyes and peered over her shoulder. “No, I’m telling you what you should know. Right now, leaving this town—“

“I never said you could come with.”

She huffed a sigh. “Well, you said that you’re on a detour. I thought that when you jumped back on the regular path, you could take me with you.”

His chuckle rolled down Nesta’s back. “We’ll see about that, but let's just sit here a little longer. I’ll stay a few days and ask you again if you still wanna come, how bout that?”

She relented a nod, and the pair waited a little longer before striding back to town. Never had she felt quite as foolish as she did when she asked him to take her away. A day. They had know each other for a day. Maybe it had something to do how no one had ever looked at her like he did. There may have been mostly lust there, but she thought she saw a little admiration too.

Silence weighed around them like it had the whole evening, but Nesta was seeing that Tomas was just trying to dazzle her with his bravado from earlier. He was probably just as nervous as she was. But, if there was one thing that was not going to happen tonight, it was a kiss. Nesta already decided on this, and his indecisiveness as to whether to take her along sealed their fate.

Jolting her out of her thoughts, the horse came to a stop.

“We’re here,” Tomas claimed as he swept off the horse. He offered no hand to Nesta.

“I’ll help you put your horse in the stable out back.”

Again, they moved without words, and as he finished closing the stable door, she said, “Listen. I know that inside you really don't want to take me with you. So let’s be fair, call it off, and go our separate ways.”

“I am going to stay in town a little longer,” he argued.

“And that’s fine, but if the whole point of that is to get in my skirts that’s not happening. You seem nice enough, but I’m not interested in that right now. Anyway, I got a shift in the morning. Don’t be a stranger now come the next few days.”  She offered a small smile and turned to walk away.

“Like hell you are.”

Nesta was not quite sure what had happened, but one moment she was walking towards the tavern, and the next the wind was knocked out of her as she laid on the ground.

There was a sharp tug on the back of her dress as she tried to crawl away, kicking and screaming. His hands found purchase on her bodice. She spun, trying to drag herself away, but the crazed look in his eyes screamed he wasn't letting go. With her arms caught in his, she tried to holler to anyone who would listen, looking around like a trapped animal.

Why did she want to see him in the dark? Her feet kept slipping on the floor below. Her dress made an incredibly loud ripping sound. She couldn’t reach the knife on her thigh. There was no stable equipment around. Her feet kept slipping, slipping, slipping, and Tomas was  getting closer, closer, closer. There was no way out. He was a breath away.

Not this, anything but this. On one final attempt, she found enough purchase to drive her knee between his legs and bolt.

She never stopped running until she was back in her room, door locked and breath huffing. She slid down the door slowly, tears welling in her eyes, and she didn't sleep the entire night.

That stranger, at least to Nesta, really seemed to take more than what was offered when he showed up the next day. And the next. And the next for those two weeks. Her favorite dress, which was incredibly torn, was now embers. She’d burned it in her fireplace.

None of her family knew what transpired that night, not that she was going to tell them. Nor did anyone else notice that the only colored dress in town was ripped to shreds and burned in the mantle. The only reason she let that man come back every day was because they were incredibly poor and needed the money. He also had the decency to be polite and hands off with her sisters.

That never stopped Nesta from watching him like a hawk.

So, it was no surprise when she watched him graze his hand on the inside of Feyre’s wrist that Nesta stormed across that room faster than winds in a sandstorm.

“What can I get for, ya?” The exact same words that left her mouth the first time Nesta spoke to him.

His eyes dragged over her body yet again. It was almost the exact same situation as last time. “I was just offering the lady here a night.”

Nesta, noticing that Feyre’s arm was swiftly tucked behind her back, replied, “I think that kind of attention is going to go unreciprocated for right now.”

“Nesta. Honestly, everything’s fin—“ Feyre tried to cut in.

“Yeah, Nesta,” he dragged her name across his tongue, “Everything’s fine.”

“I really don’t believe that,” Nesta said coolly, “Feyre, you can go.”

Her sister meandered away form the bar, a scowl on her face no doubt from the tip she was about to lose. “Listen Hon. You really need to calm down.” Nesta turned from where she watched her sister walk away to look at the man sitting in front of her. Everything about him that initially struck her as charming, exotic, or expensive seemed cheap and cocky. From the thinning threads on his vest to the way his smile stretched just a little too thin, this man was anything but a man. His entire appearance depended on a doe-eyed girl, too blind for her own good.

“No.”

He cocked his head at that.

“I am not going to calm myself down because there is no need to. You, partner,” she drew the name like an insult, “are going to find somewhere else to eat dinner.”

No reaction.

“I said,” she repeated, “you can get up and leave, but more importantly why the hell are you still here? If you’re really looking for work on the other side of the desert, this is the calm season, so why don’t you try and mosey your way right out of town.”

“I think you really need to calm down. I think you’re taking the other night much too seriously—“ he stood up then—“And you need to loosen up a little. Your sister over there seemed like she could teach you some lessons.” Their eyes were now level, and their faces were extremely close. “You know what I think?” she challenged. He just breathed back in her face. “I think that you like to travel to these layaway towns and take advantage of any willing female. But more importantly, I think that people like yourself are pretty Goddamned keen to preach about how others should live their life, but you wanna know something about us around here?” Without breaking eye contact, her knife found its way into the wooden bar, nicking his finger slightly. “We ain’t ever been that religious.” She watched him make his way through the bar followed by the sound of a horse running off.

The next day when Nesta gave Ian his drinks, his hands had flecks of dried blood on them.

“Where those from?” she nodded towards his fingers.

He turned his hands over. “A foreign preacher.”

[invaderhogtwopointohno]

The RebelCaptain Appreciation Week 2017

Day Seven: Free Day (Wild West AU)

Miss Jyn Erso watched her entire family killed by highwaymen. Desperate for money and food, she offers herself as a mail-order bride and goes to Rebel Ranch, where a young ranch hand named Cassian Andor offers to marry her to provide her safety. The two begin to fall in love and have to fight together to protect the ranch from raids by angry southern ranchers.

[separatist-apologist]

i'm all for lumberjack lucien but my dream is "wear the hat, ride the cowboy" elucien

You mean save a horse, ride a cowboy? And best I can offer is Cassian.

Nesta hesitated. “Are you a doctor?”

He snorted, rising to his feet again. His large, muscular body blocked the bright sun the way a tree might and Nesta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful.

“Cattle rancher,” he replied, “but I know a thing or two about tapin’ up a sprain. We’ll get you iced up and bandaged and on your way Miss…”

She sighed. “Nesta Archeron,” she half grumbled.

“Miss Archeron—”

“Nesta. Don’t be ridiculous.”

He smiled, setting her heart racing. “Miss Nesta, then. I’m Cassian, and I’m walkin’ towards you real slow because I don’t want to spook you.”

“Why would you—put me down right now!”

He shook his head. “And let you finish breakin’ what you started? No offense, darlin’, but carrying you is a lot safer than letting you hop on the horse—”

“Why can’t we drive?”

He looked down at her, his amusement plain. “And what would I do with Bryaxis?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Nesta breathed, gripping Cassian’s neck until her nails dug into his skin. “I’ve never been on a horse.”

“He doesn’t bite,” Cassian replied. “I’ll be right behind you.”