seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Russia
seen from China
seen from Bulgaria
seen from Malaysia
seen from Denmark
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Taiwan
seen from Brazil
seen from China
seen from Japan
you ever come up with a scenario in your head with a fictional character and think damn i should make that a fanfic but then you think nah i want this to stay in my head 😵💫
if you asked yourself, is she thinking of Azriel and Cassian you would be correct
THE VOTES ARE IN!! AZRIEL X FEMALE!READER SMUT INCOMING🔥🔥
I've been feeling feral recently and have wrote a few saucy one shots🤭
A few are acotar themed, and a few are au's
Let me know below what smut fic you want to see first🥰
what smutty story do you want to see first?
Azriel x Female!reader
Cassian x Female!reader
Rhysand x Female!reader
Rhysand x Cassian x Azriel x Female!reader
Acotar reading update…
So I just finished ACOSF and while I have my criticisms that I have expressed before… Nessian is so special TO ME.
As someone with PTSD that has presented similarly to how it presented for Nesta… they make me so emo.
Also I am officially Nesta Archeron’s lawyer. Valid criticisms of her are okay but I don’t need my protagonist to be a perfect victim who’s ptsd presents in a way that makes everyone comfy for me to love her.
Bring Her Home
Chapter Seven
Scars and Starlight
Moments |||| (Cassian x Reader)
(Photos courtesy of Pinterest)
Summary: A collection of moments in parenthood with Cassian.
Authors Note: Cassian is so dad girl coded and I am so here for it. Brief mentions of traumatic childbirth below, but nothing drastic. No other warnings. Enjoy! 🖤
Cassian had always been protective, everyone knew that.
He walked on the outside of pavements in Velaris. His hand was always at the small of your back. He memorised every route home. He noticed every bruise before you did.
It was simply Cassian and you loved him for it. Then you became pregnant and somehow he got worse.
Much, much worse.
It started innocently enough. He insists on carrying every bag. Every basket. Every parcel.
"I do have two perfectly functioning hands," you point out one afternoon.
"You are growing our child."
"...I'm carrying a loaf of bread."
"Exactly."
You stare at him. He stares back. The bread disappears into his arms anyway.
Then he starts hovering.
If you stand he's standing too. If you sit he's rearranging cushions behind your back before you've even reached the chair. If you walk one hand is permanently braced against your lower back while the other hovers near your arm, ready to catch you should the completely flat ground somehow betray you.
"Cassian."
"Hm?"
"I'm just walking to the library."
"I know."
"You look like you're escorting a foreign dignitary."
"I'm escorting something much more important."
You playfully roll your eyes at him, but allow him to continue knowing it makes him happy and content to know that you’re safe.
By the seventh month of your pregnancy everyone knows just how protective Cassian has become and it is now a regular tactic used to tease him.
"You know she can still open doors."
Cassian reaches around you and opens it anyway. "I know."
Rhys rolls his eyes.
"I can pour my own tea."
Cassian takes the kettle from your hand anyway. "I know."
Mor watches with poorly concealed amusement.
"You don't have to stand every time I do."
Cassian is already on his feet. "I know."
Azriel raises an eyebrow, sharing an amused look with Rhys across the room.
"You can stop glaring at my stomach."
Cassian looks offended. "I'm not glaring."
"You absolutely are."
"I'm making sure nothing happens."
"...To the baby?"
"To either of you."
The Inner Circle starts placing bets.
Mor gives it another week before someone snaps. Rhys says three days. Amren simply mutters, "Pathetic," every time Cassian rushes across the room because you bent down to pick something up.
It all comes to a head during one of your appointments with Madja.
Everything is routine. The baby is healthy. You're healthy.
Madja smiles warmly. "I'd just like one of my assistants to—"
A young healer steps forward carrying a tray. He can't be older than twenty. Kind-faced. Nervous. Entirely innocent.
"I'm just going to have a listen—"
He reaches toward your stomach.
Cassian is moving before anyone can blink. A large hand catches the assistant gently—but firmly—by the wrist.
"No."
The room falls silent.
The assistant blinks. "I'm sorry?"
"I'll do it."
"You... can't."
"You're telling me what I can't do with my mate?"
Madja pinches the bridge of her nose. "Cassian."
"He doesn't need to touch her."
The assistant tries again politely. "General, I assure you—"
"I said no."
You watch in growing horror as Cassian gently—but very decisively—turns the poor male around by his shoulders and walks him straight toward the door.
"It was lovely meeting you."
"Cassian—"
"The exit is just here."
"Cassian!"
The assistant looks desperately over his shoulder at Madja.
The door closes. Cassian dusts off his hands.
"There." He turns back and smiles proudly. "Problem solved."
Madja simply stares at him.
The following morning Cassian receives a message via one of Azriel's shadows.
Rhys wants to see you. Immediately.
He strolls into the office without a care in the world.
"What's so urgent—?" Then he stops.
You're already sitting on one of the sofas. Azriel stands beside the fireplace, arms folded. Rhys is behind his desk. All three of you look at him.
Cassian frowns. "...Why do I suddenly feel like I'm in trouble?"
"You are," Rhys says.
Cassian looks genuinely confused. "What did I do?"
"I had a complaint from Madja about my General manhandling one of her assistants out of a room."
Cassian has the nerve to look perplexed. "He was touching my mate."
"That's literally his job," Rhys deadpans.
"Well how would you like it if some strange male you'd never met before tried touching Ferye?"
"He was examining me, Cass," you correct gently.
There's a comedic pause where Rhys considers Cassian's words, putting himself in his position before—
"Fair enough."
You snort, deciding to intervene as Rhys was failing to get the message across. You pat the seat beside you. "Come here."
He obeys immediately and you take both his hands as he sits down. They're warm, strong, slightly calloused.
You smile softly. "I know why you're doing it."
His shoulders relax a little. "I just—"
"I know."
"I can't help it."
"I know."
He looks down at your joined hands. "I'm terrified." The confession is so quiet it almost breaks your heart.
He swallows. His thumb brushes absentmindedly over your knuckles. "I've seen too much go wrong. I know what can happen. My own mother—"
Cassian stops and you squeeze his hand in comfort.
"I know," you whisper.
"I keep thinking if I just stay close enough..." His voice catches. "...maybe I can stop anything bad from happening."
Silence.
You smile sadly. "As much as you want to, you can't."
He closes his eyes. "I know."
You reach up, cupping his cheek. "Gently escorting innocent healers out of examination rooms isn't protecting me."
"It felt right at the time."
Azriel coughs into his fist. Rhys hides what is very obviously the beginning of a smile.
You fight one of your own. "Cass..."
"The male had very grabby hands."
"He was a healer."
"He was touching you."
"He was checking the baby's position."
"He could've asked."
"He did."
Azriel finally laughs, a short, helpless sound.
Cassian looks offended. "This isn't funny."
"It is a little," Rhys admits.
Cassian points at him. "I thought you'd understand."
"I do," Rhys smiles faintly, "but when Feyre was pregnant I didn't carry a healer out of an examination room like a sack of potatoes."
You can't stop laughing now and neither can Azriel.
Cassian looks between all three of you. "...Am I being bullied?"
"Yes," Rhys says, "for being an overprotective idiot."
"Rhys!" You scold.
You lean over, resting your forehead against Cassian's shoulder. "You don't have to protect me from everyone."
"I guess you're right."
"You can let people help."
He sighs. "...I'll try."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
A beat.
"...Can I still glare at people?"
You smile. "A reasonable amount."
"And hold your hand?"
"Always."
"And walk beside you?"
"I'd be offended if you didn't."
He brightens immediately. "And if someone looks at you funny—"
"Cassian."
He sighs dramatically. "...I'll try not to throw them out of buildings."
Azriel mutters, "Progress."
You laugh, taking his face between your hands and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
"I don't need the Lord of Bloodshed every second of the day."
Cassian smiles sadly. "I know."
Then he rests one hand over your stomach, gentle, reverent, feeling the tiny kick beneath his palm. His entire expression melts.
"I just..." he murmurs. "I've waited my whole life for the two of you."
Your heart aches. "You've got us."
Another little kick greets his hand, seemingly in agreement.
Cassian smiles so widely it almost hurts to look at.
"...I'm still going to carry you up the stairs."
You roll your eyes affectionately. "I expected nothing less."
The room is finally quiet.
Your daughter's tiny newborn noises fill the space now—little snuffles, sleepy sighs, the occasional protesting squeak whenever she's jostled from person to person.
Madja has finished her examination. The healers have slipped from the room. The Inner Circle had congratulated you with a few tears and awed expressions. Stealing a brief look at the newest member of the family, before leaving to give you some space on the promise of returning later.
For the first time in hours it's just the three of you.
You lie propped against the pillows, utterly exhausted. Every muscle aches, but you've never felt lighter. More complete.
Across the room, Cassian is still standing exactly where he'd been since your daughter was born. He hasn't moved. He's simply staring at her, like he still isn't entirely convinced she's real.
"You know," you murmur softly.
His eyes immediately flick to yours. "Hm?"
"You can hold her."
"I know."
He doesn't move.
You smile. "Cass."
"I'm just..." He laughs quietly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "...I'm nervous."
Your heart squeezes.
"You've fought armies, faced Hybern, literally stared death in the face and you're frightened of a six-pound baby?"
His smile is wonderfully sheepish. "...Terrified."
You laugh softly. "Come here."
He does slowly, almost cautiously. As though one wrong step might somehow disturb the fragile little bubble surrounding the three of you.
Madja had already shown him how to hold her - support her neck, keep her close. He'd done wonderfully.
But now...
You pat the chair beside the bed. "Sit."
He obeys without question. You gently lift your sleeping daughter from where she'd curled against your chest. She makes the tiniest little noise and Cassian freezes.
"I woke her."
"You didn't." You smile. "Take your shirt off."
His eyebrows lift. "Now? Sweetheart, you just gave birth..."
"Cass!" You snort. "It's for skin to skin."
Realisation washes across his face. "Oh." He nods quickly. "Right."
His hands suddenly seem far too big as he hurriedly pulls his shirt over his head. The moment his chest is bare you carefully place your daughter against him. She squirms, one tiny fist stretches out before she nestles herself against the warmth of his chest with a content little sigh.
Cassian stops breathing as he looks down. At the impossibly tiny girl resting against the broad chest that had faced down monsters without flinching. She barely reaches across one side of his pectoral.
Cassian makes the smallest sound you've ever heard him make. His shoulders begin to shake ever so slightly.
You frown. "Cass?"
He doesn't answer. He just keeps staring as your daughter yawns. The tiniest, sleepiest yawn, before she settles even deeper against him.
His head bows and that's when you see it. A tear. Then another, rolling silently down his cheeks. Your breath catches. In all the years you've known him...
Battles. Loss. Victory. Pain. You've seen Cassian angry. Laughing. Bleeding. Heartbroken. You'd even seen his eyes glisten once or twice, but never this. He isn't sobbing or making a sound, but the tears simply keep falling one after another.
You reach for his hand. "Cass..."
His laugh is watery. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"I'm crying."
"So?"
"I didn't think..." He swallows hard. "I didn't think I'd..." Another tear slips free. "I can't stop."
Your own eyes sting.
He looks at you then, really looks. "I almost lost you." His voice cracks. The memory is still too fresh, the fear still too raw.
"There was a moment..." He looks back down at your daughter. "...where I thought I might have to choose."
You know exactly what he means. Madja had warned both of you prior on the dangers of an Illyrian pregnancy - if things went wrong choices might have to be made. There was a moment when your little girl had become stuck and for hours you had pushed and struggled. Nothing.
Madja was becoming concerned and your baby distressed. Your scream had rattled the windows on your last attempt before drastic measures would need to be taken, but by some miracle you had managed to push her out before that decision needed to be made.
Cassian paled at the memory.
You squeezed his hand in comfort. "But you didn't."
He nods shakily. "I know."
Another tiny fist presses against his chest as she squirms again. Cassian instinctively cups a hand around the back of her impossibly small body. Protective and gentle, like he'd been born to do it.
His voice drops to barely a whisper. "I made it."
Your brow furrows. "What?"
"I made it." His smile trembles. "I have a family."
Your heart breaks and heals all at once. "You do."
He lets out another shaky laugh before he leans forward and presses a reverent kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”
He brushes one finger over your daughter's impossibly soft hair. She sighs in her sleep and without opening her eyes, she turns her face slightly, nuzzling against him and seeking his warmth.
Cassian completely falls apart. A quiet sob escapes him before he can stop it. "Oh, gods..."
You reach across the space between you, laying your hand over his cheek.
"You know," you whisper with a teasing smile through your own tears. "I think this is the first time I've ever seen the Lord of Bloodshed cry."
He lets out a breathless laugh. "Don't tell anyone."
"It's a little late for that."
He blinks. "What?"
You nod toward the doorway where the door is slightly ajar. Cassian looks up and standing there trying very hard to pretend they haven't witnessed the entire thing—
Rhys, Azriel, Feyre and Nesta.
Rhys clears his throat awkwardly. "We were..." He gestures vaguely. "...checking if everyone was alright and if you needed anything."
Cassian hastily wipes at his face. "I wasn't crying."
Azriel looks at the tears still very obviously running down his cheeks. "Mhmm."
Nesta smiles, a real one, soft and full of affection. "I've never seen you look so small."
Cassian glances down at the sleeping baby tucked safely against his chest. He smiles too.
"I've never felt so big..." He kisses the top of his daughter's head with impossible gentleness. "...or so lucky."
No one teases him after that, not even Rhys. Some moments are simply too precious. Instead, they quietly leave the room again, pulling the door closed behind them.
Leaving you to watch the strongest Illyrian warrior in history sit in a chair far too small for him with a baby even smaller curled against his heart.
And tears of pure, overwhelming joy still slipping silently down his face.
You had known this day was coming.
You'd just hoped it would come when your daughter was perhaps twenty, maybe thirty. Certainly not when she was only three.
"Cassian."
He looked up from where he was crouched in front of your daughter, carefully unfastening the tiny leather straps that helped keep her little wings comfortably tucked while they strengthened.
"Hm?"
"She's a baby."
"Exactly, and today..." He smiles, "...our baby is going to learn to fly."
You looked at your daughter. She looked impossibly small. Her tiny Illyrian wings fluttered excitedly behind her, far too energetic for someone who'd only just learned how to properly brush her own hair.
She bounced on her toes. "Daddy! Daddy! Can we go now?"
Cassian chuckled. "See? She's excited."
"I see a toddler."
"I see a future flier."
"I see someone who still asks me to cut her apples into stars."
Cassian snorted. "I was already flying for miles by the time I was her age."
The House of Wind's roof suddenly seemed far, far too high. You followed them outside anyway, mostly because there was absolutely no chance you were letting your husband throw your three-year-old off a mountain without supervision.
Cassian lifted your daughter effortlessly onto one hip. She giggled, immediately grabbing one of his wings.
"Ready?"
"Ready!"
He looked at you. "Are you ready?"
"No."
He laughed. "You don't actually have to come."
"Oh, I'm coming."
"You'll only worry."
"I'm already worried."
You reached the edge of the roof. Cassian set your daughter carefully on her feet then knelt in front of her with a serious expression on his face
"So, what's the most important rule?"
She thought hard. "...Don't fly into chimneys?"
Cassian blinked. "...That's actually a good rule."
Your daughter beamed proudly up at you.
Cassian smiled before gently tapping the tip of her tiny nose. "But if you ever get scared..."
She immediately answered. "Daddy catches me."
His smile softened. "Always."
She threw her arms around his neck. "I love you."
"I love you more."
He kissed the top of her head before standing and scooping her into his arms once again—
—and then stepped clean off the edge of the House.
You lunged to the edge so fast your heart nearly burst from your chest. "CASSIAN!"
Your daughter squealed with delight as the wind caught them. Cassian's powerful wings carried them effortlessly, gliding a short distance beneath the roof. One arm remained firmly around her little waist.
"You remember what Daddy taught you?"
She nodded enthusiastically. "Flap!"
"That's right. And if you get scared?"
"You catch me."
"Always."
Your stomach twisted. "Cassian..." you warned.
He looked up at you with infuriating calm. "I've got her."
"I know you've got her!"
"You don't sound convinced."
"Just be careful!"
He laughed. Then very, very carefully he loosened his hold, one hand still hovered barely an inch from her back. Ready. Watching. But no longer holding her.
"Come on, sweetheart."
Your daughter's tiny wings fluttered uncertainly. Once. Twice. Then harder. For one glorious second nothing happened. Then her little body lifted completely from his hold and she drifted forward, barely three feet.
The world's tiniest, wobbliest flight. Her arms stretched out instinctively for balance. Her wings beat with all the determination a three-year-old could muster.
"Daddy!" Her delighted giggle echoed around the mountains. "I'm doing it!"
"You are!" Cassian laughed.
"Keep flapping!"
"I'm flying!"
"That's my girl!"
Your heart was somewhere around your ankles. "Cassian!"
He didn't even look at you. "I've got her."
She made it another foot. Then another. Wobbling. Tilting slightly to one side. Immediately Cassian matched every tiny movement, flying so close that his hand remained only inches from her back. Never touching, but always there. Ready.
You watched another three seconds. That was enough.
"Right!" Both of them looked up. "That's enough."
Your daughter frowned. "But Mama—"
"No."
"I can do it!"
"I know you can."
"No, you don't," Cassian muttered with a grin.
You ignored him completely. "You've flown and I'm very proud of you."
She beamed.
"But now we're finished."
"Awww..."
Cassian sighed dramatically. "We've only been out here two minutes."
"And those have been the longest two minutes of my entire life."
He chuckled, gently scooping your daughter back into his arms. "I think someone is overreacting."
"I think someone is encouraging our toddler to throw herself off mountains."
"It's called flying."
"It's called giving your mother grey hairs."
Your daughter wrapped her little arms around Cassian's neck. "I wanna do it again."
"Tomorrow," he promised.
"No," you said immediately.
He looked at you. "Next week?"
"No."
"Next month?"
"No."
"Our daughter will be forty before you let her leave the roof."
"I can live with that."
Cassian laughed all the way back to the rooftop.
The moment his boots touched the stone, you hurried over and plucked your daughter straight from his arms, hugging her tightly against your chest.
She giggled. "Mama, I wasn't falling."
"I know."
"Daddy would've caught me."
"I know."
"I was flying!"
"You were." You kissed the top of her head. "And you've done enough flying for one day."
She pouted dramatically. "But Mama..."
"Nope."
“Oh come on, love,” Cassian said, coming closer and wrapping his arms around you, effectively cocooning you both. “She’s got to learn eventually.”
Your daughter nodded in agreement as you grumbled in disagreement.
Cassian only winked at her, before whispering conspirationally. “Even if Mama says no, we’ll still practice.”
Your daughter squealed in excitement.
You glared at him. "You are a menace."
He slipped an arm around your waist as you all headed back inside, still laughing.
"You know," he said, "she really did brilliantly."
You glanced down at your daughter, who was already enthusiastically telling you every single detail of her three-foot flight. Your smile softened. "She did."
Cassian looked impossibly proud. "I've never seen anyone so excited to fly three feet."
You nudged him with your shoulder. "I've never seen anyone so excited to watch someone fly three feet."
He looked down at the little girl between you. "I waited my whole life to see that."
You reached across your daughter to take his hand.
"...You get today."
He grinned. "And tomorrow?"
You looked him dead in the eye. "...We'll discuss it."
His laugh echoed through the House of Wind. He knew that in the battle between fearless Illyrian father and overprotective mother neither of you was ever going to win.
And secretly, he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
It's the tiny knock that wakes you.
Not loud. Not urgent.
Just...
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Beside you, Cassian doesn't stir.
You barely crack one eye open, the room still bathed in moonlight.
Another knock.
"Mama?" The tiny voice is so quiet it almost breaks your heart. "...Mama?"
You smile sleepily. "Come in, sweetheart."
The bedroom door creaks open just enough for a tiny face to peek around it. Messy dark curls. Sleepy brown eyes. Little wings drooping sadly behind her. She clutches her favourite stuffed pegasus so tightly its poor little wing is almost bent in half.
Cassian is still asleep.
Your daughter looks between the two of you, her bottom lip wobbling ever so slightly. "I had a bad dream."
Immediately, every trace of sleep leaves you. "Oh, sweetheart." You pull back the blankets on your side. "Come here."
She wastes no time. Tiny feet patter across the room before she clambers carefully into bed beside you. You tuck her against your chest, immediately wrapping an arm around her.
She sighs. A long, relieved little sigh. You kiss the top of her head.
"What was the dream about?"
She whispers into your nightshirt. "A monster."
"Oh?"
"It chased Pegasus."
You glance down at the well-loved stuffed toy still clutched tightly in her hands. "Did it?"
She nods solemnly. "But Pegasus got away."
"Well, that's good." You smooth a hand through her curls. "The monster can't get you in here."
"No?"
You smile. "No."
She nestles even closer. "...Because you're here?"
Your heart melts. "Yes. And Daddy."
She wrinkles her little nose. "Daddy's sleeping."
You snort quietly. For someone who claims to always be awake and alert, Cassian is a very heavy sleeper and always has been.
For a few peaceful moments the room is quiet. Your daughter's breathing begins to slow. You think she's drifting back off, so you allow yourself to begin to fall back to sleep.
Then—
Her little forehead wrinkles and she sits up slightly, looking over your shoulder.
"Mama?"
"Hm?"
"...Daddy's noisy."
You glance behind you. Cassian is still sound asleep, completely unaware of the extra little person in your bed. He's still snoring. Not loudly enough to wake anyone else, but loudly enough to offend one very sleepy four-year-old.
"He does snore a little."
"A lot."
You bite your lip to muffle your snicker.
She stares at him for a moment, then makes a decision. She carefully untangles herself from your arms. She crawls across the mattress, over one of his enormous arms, then onto his chest.
He doesn't stir, so she pokes his cheek. "Daddy."
Nothing. Another poke.
"Daddy."
Still nothing. She leans closer.
"Daaaaaddy."
Cassian snorts awake with a confused grunt. "Huh?"
He blinks blearily. The first thing he sees is a tiny face only inches from his own. He smiles immediately.
"Well..." His voice is thick with sleep. "What are you doing here?"
She looks deeply offended. "You were snoring."
Cassian blinks. "...Was I?"
She nods firmly. "Too loud."
You laugh quietly into your pillow. Cassian looks over at you. "I don't snore."
You simply raise an eyebrow.
He looks back at your daughter. "...Do I snore?"
She nods with great seriousness. "A lot."
He looks personally betrayed. "I've been slandered in my own bed."
Your daughter pats his cheek comfortingly. "It's okay. You still my Daddy."
He smiles. "Well, that's a relief."
She shuffles awkwardly between the two of you. "I wanna go in the middle."
"Of course you do," Cassian chuckles. "Why aren't you in your own bed?"
He still lifts the blankets and shifts over without complaint. You do the same. Your daughter wriggles happily into the warm little space you've made for her.
She flops onto her back. "I had a nightmare." As if that was explanation enough, which it was. Then she reaches for your hand, then she takes Cassian's too. With great concentration, she places both your hands over her tummy.
"There." Apparently satisfied, she gives one decisive nod. You and Cassian just watch her in clear amusement. "Now no monsters."
"No monsters," Cassian agrees.
"No monsters," you echo.
She closes her eyes. Then immediately opens one again. "Daddy?"
"Hm?"
"You stop snoring now."
You burst into laughter. Cassian looks utterly scandalised. "I wasn't snoring."
"You sounded like Uncle Rhys' fireplace."
Cassian turns to you. "...She's mean."
Your daughter giggles so hard her little wings flutter against the blankets.
Then, as quickly as it started the excitement fades. She shuffles closer until one cheek is pressed against Cassian's shoulder while her little feet find your legs. She lets out one tiny yawn.
Cassian lowers his voice to a whisper. "Think she's asleep?"
"I don't know."
He carefully looks down.
A small voice mumbles sleepily, "I'm not asleep."
The two of you freeze. A beat passes, but within seconds, her breathing evens out. Cassian looks down at the tiny girl nestled between you. One of her little hands is still wrapped around his finger. The other around yours. He smiles so softly it almost hurts to look at.
"I've got approximately four inches of mattress."
"I've got three."
He sighs dramatically. "...Worth it."
Your smile softens.
For a while, neither of you says anything. You simply watch her sleep. The little crease between her brows has disappeared. Her stuffed pegasus has slipped from her grasp and is now squashed between the three of you. She looks so unbelievably peaceful that it almost hurts.
Cassian watches her for another few seconds before carefully rolling onto his side. Slowly. Carefully. Making sure not to wake her. His arm slides around your daughter's little body before reaching you too, pulling both of you against his chest until you're tucked safely beneath one broad wing.
"Comfortable?"
"Mhm."
Cassian presses a kiss into your hair before looking down at the little girl safely cocooned between you both. "If any monsters are stupid enough to come in here tonight, they're going to have a very bad evening."
A laugh escapes you. "Very heroic."
"I know." He gives you an exaggerated nod. "I'll protect both my girls."
You lean up and kiss his cheek. "My brave General."
"Damn right."
His wing curls a little tighter around the two of you.
After a beat, he adds in a whisper,
"...Although, if the monster wakes her up again, you're dealing with it."
"No."
You looked up from chopping vegetables. "No... what?"
Cassian stood in the kitchen doorway, arms folded. "No."
You sighed. "You've known about this dinner for two weeks."
"I've had two weeks to think about it."
"And?"
"I've decided I don't like it."
You smiled to yourself. "Our daughter is nineteen."
He looked genuinely offended by the passage of time. "She's just a baby still."
He changed his shirt. Twice. Ran a hand through his hair no fewer than fourteen times. Asked if he should wear his siphons. You had very firmly told him no.
"But they complete the outfit."
"They scream 'I have buried people before.'"
"I have buried people before."
"Yes, but you don’t need to prove that point tonight."
He opened his mouth to argue again, but you beat him to it. "No siphons."
He sighed dramatically before placing them back. You chuckled at his obvious nerves, stepping towards him and tenderly brushing an imaginary crease from his shirt.
"Our daughter is bringing someone she likes home—."
"I know,” Cassian sighs as if it’s the worst news he’d ever been told.
"—so be nice."
"I'll be lovely."
"You just said you wanted to sharpen Truth-Teller."
"I was joking."
"You don't own Truth-Teller."
"I was going to borrow it."
"Cassian."
"I'm joking…mostly.”
The knock came just as the food was ready. Your daughter appeared in the doorway first. Older now. Confident. Still wearing that same crooked grin she'd inherited from her father.
"Hi!"
You immediately pulled her into a hug. "Hello, sweetheart."
She hugged you tightly before stepping aside. "Mum, Dad, this is Rowan."
A young male stepped forward. Polite smile. Straight-backed. Obviously nervous.
He offered Cassian his hand. "It's really nice to meet you—"
Cassian looked at the hand. Then at him. Then back at the hand. His eyes narrowed in obvious assessment.
There was a very long silence.
"Dad,” your daughter practically hissed.
Cassian finally shook it. Firmly. Very firmly. The poor boy's eyes widened slightly.
"Cass." You shot him a look.
He smiled innocently. "What?"
Dinner actually started remarkably well.
Rowan was polite. Funny. Clearly adored your daughter. He complimented the food. Asked thoughtful questions. Laughed at your stories.
You found yourself relaxing. Cassian did not.
"So…”
Rowan looked up.
"You ever been thrown off a mountain?"
You almost choked on your mouthful of food. “Cassian."
Rowan blinked. "...No?"
"Hm." Cassian nodded thoughtfully. "Builds character I always thought."
Your daughter buried her face in her hands. "Dad."
"What?"
Five minutes later—
"So what are your intentions?"
"Cass,” you gasped.
"What? I’m just making conversation.”
Rowan nearly choked on his drink. "My intentions?"
"With my daughter."
"Dad!"
He looked genuinely confused. "It's a reasonable question."
You reached across the table and gently nudged his shin with your foot.
He glanced at you. "What?"
"Eat your dinner."
"I am."
"You are interrogating our guest."
"I'm getting to know him."
Your daughter groaned. "I'm never bringing anyone home again."
Cassian brightened. "Wonderful."
"Dad!"
Regardless, as the interrogation conversation continued and as the night continued to progress something changed. Rowan was describing how he'd met your daughter at the library. How she'd spent nearly twenty minutes helping him find the book he'd been looking for.
"She wouldn't let me leave until she was sure I'd found the right edition."
You smiled. "That sounds like her."
Rowan laughed. "She said I looked completely lost."
Across the table Cassian had gone very quiet. He was just watching her. Watching the way she laughed. The way she nudged Rowan's shoulder. The way she'd grown into this confident young woman without either of you noticing.
His little girl. The one who used to climb into your bed after nightmares. The one who'd flown three feet and declared herself the greatest Illyrian in history. The one who used to insist he braid her hair despite being spectacularly terrible at it.
She wasn't little anymore.
You reached under the table. Found his hand and gave it a squeeze. He squeezed back. Hard. Without taking his eyes off her.
"You alright?" You asked quietly while your daughter and Rowan carried empty plates into the kitchen.
Cassian laughed under his breath. "...No."
"No?"
"My little girl has a boy."
You smiled softly. "She does."
"I don't like time."
"I know."
"I was teaching her to fly yesterday. She was sleeping between us because she'd had a nightmare."
"I remember."
He rubbed at one eye. "...Now she's introducing us to someone."
You leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You've done a good job."
"We both did."
When the two returned Cassian was himself again, unfortunately for your daughter.
"So, Rowan."
Rowan visibly braced himself. "Yes, sir?"
Cassian pointed a fork at him. "If you ever hurt her..."
"Dad!"
"...her mother will be very disappointed."
You looked at him in surprise. "That's where you're going with that?"
He nodded solemnly. "I've matured."
You snorted into your drink. Your daughter rolled her eyes. "I cannot believe either of you."
Rowan, to his credit, smiled. "I'd never intentionally hurt her."
Cassian held his gaze for a long moment. Then he smiled. "Good answer."
Your daughter's shoulders visibly relaxed.
After Rowan had gone home, your daughter hugged you first.
"Thanks, Mum."
You kissed her forehead. "He's lovely."
She smiled. Then she looked at Cassian. "...Dad?"
He opened his arms immediately. She walked straight into them. Still your little girl no matter how tall she'd become. He hugged her tightly.
"So..." She smiled into his shoulder, holding her breath. "What do you think?"
Cassian eventually sighed. "I think..." He kissed the top of her head. "...he seems like a good male."
Her entire face lit up. "Really?"
"I do."
She squeezed him tighter. "Thank you."
She disappeared upstairs in a flurry of excitement. The moment her bedroom door clicked shut Cassian turned to you.
"Right."
You already knew that look.
"Next dinner..." He counted on his fingers. "Rhys. Azriel. Maybe Nesta."
"No."
"Amren?"
"Absolutely not."
He nodded thoughtfully. "Definitely Rhys and Azriel."
You laughed. “You've already decided you like him. So why do you need backup?"
Cassian folded his arms. "I don't."
"Then?"
He looked entirely serious. "...I just think the poor lad should know what he's up against."
You burst out laughing. "You are impossible."
"I'm thorough."
Just then, a voice drifted down the stairs. "Dad?"
Cassian looked up. "Yes?"
"...I can hear you."
You covered your mouth to stop yourself laughing. Cassian didn't even have the decency to look embarrassed.
He simply called back, "...Good! Tell Rowan to come hungry next time."
A beat.
Then he leaned closer to you and whispered conspiratorially, "And tell Rhys to wear his High Lord face."
You shook your head, laughing so hard tears pricked your eyes. "Cassian."
"What?"
"You're unbelievable."
He slipped an arm around your waist, watching the staircase with the same soft smile he'd worn when she'd been three years old.
"No," he murmured quietly. "I'm just a father."
You rested your head against his shoulder.
"I know."
He smiled. "...She's still my little girl."
"And she always will be."
Cassian nodded once.
Then, after a thoughtful pause, added,
"...I'm still inviting Azriel."
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Food for thought regarding a difference between Nesta and Feyre:
Feyre saw a monster in the Ouroboros, she fully embraced it - shared without doubt this image with her mate and was accepted unconditionally.
For on that painting, I’d shown him what I had not revealed to anyone. What the Ouroboros had revealed to me: the creature inside myself, the creature full of hate and regret and love and sacrifice, the creature that could be cruel and brave, sorrowful and joyous.
I gave him me—as no one but him would ever see me. No one but him would ever understand.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, voice still hoarse.
Nesta on the other hand, in her happy end is left to earn this feeling of being unconditionally accepted.
and though she might not have deserved it then … She would do all she could now to earn it. To deserve not just his love, but that of those around her. Of Cassian.
Some days might indeed be difficult, but she’d do it. Fight for it.
----
But if she did fall … he’d be waiting for her at the top again. Hand outstretched. She didn’t deserve it, but she’d endeavor to be worthy of him.
----
“You are everything I have never been, and will never be good enough for. Your friends know it, and I have carried it around with me all this time—that I do not deserve you.” […] “I do not deserve you, and I never, ever will.”
The times she shared her sorrows and doubts it was met with either a very hypocritical acceptance after she was punished at his initiative with a five days hike for saying the wrong thing to Feyre, and it ended with sex. The Solstice scene ended with him not responding in any way to her doubts, but making sure she is bound to him(through sex), and vanishing for a week because he wasn't able to reciprocate the honesty.
Or the cherry on the pie:
“Because with that one word, the last scrap of my humanity goes away!” She didn’t care who saw them, who heard. “With that one stupid word, I am no longer human in any way. I’m one of you!”
He blinked. “I thought you wanted to be one of us.”
“I don’t know what I want. I didn’t have a choice.”
“Well, I didn’t have a choice in being shackled to you, either.”
Nesta isn't really allowed to be a creature; she never accepted herself because everyone was telling or showing her she was somehow wrong. Cassian is one of these people, telling her she's a bad sister from their first meeting, that she's unlovable when he knew how bad her state was post-war, and that everyone hates her when she was rightfully lashing out at the person controlling her life, who by coincidence was also his brother. After feeding her self-loathing sentiment, he's also there talking about acceptance and healing.
This fully explains her need to earn love. If she acts wrong, she'll be punished; if she participates in missions, is in a relationship with Cassian, or sacrifices herself for others, she'll be accepted.
I don't think there's a solution to fix this, I don't think Cassian is the right person for her because in the same breath he'll tell her there's nothing to fix, she just needs healing but when he's angry with her it will "I'm shackled to you". He can be a good partner only when he's not blinded by his own righteous sentiment and anger at Nesta. And we're in another series and we still see the same image.
And coming back to Feyre, she's not spending time to evaluate when she was wrong, she could feel sorry for the moment but she easily moves on. Nesta on the other hand is drowning in guilt for things less severe I'd say. It's interesting what relationship with her self will be shown for Elain.
