#cassianweek2025

[froggybogwitch]

Cassian has been a protector, a shield, for a long *long* time, to many different people, but his brothers were the first.

(also, pretty unrelated, i think cassian should use chain blades. Bc they're SICK)

@cassianappreciationweek

[inkedinshadows]

Savior at the Market

Pairing: Cassian x f!reader

Summary: While out at the market with Cassian, you have an unfortunate encounter with your abusive ex.

Warnings: past toxic relationship, possessive and violent ex

Word count: 1k

A/N: cliché trope, I know. But as I said, I didn't have much time to write something more elaborate. Nor ideas for other drabbles tbh. Anyway, the fic originally planned for today will come in the next few days.

Main masterlist | Week masterlist | Cassian masterlist | AO3

@cassianappreciationweek

The morning was going just fine. You and Cassian were strolling through the streets of Velaris, hand in hand as you browsed the market stands, not really needing anything but looking at everything. People bustled all around you, buying and selling or simply lounging at the cafés lining the street while children chased each other and darted about.

“Look at these!” you said suddenly, tugging on Cassian’s hand and stopping in front of a stall selling old, vintage books. “Oh, they're beautiful…”

The volumes were ancient, some in worse condition than others, but they all had yellowed, crinkled pages that smelled of old ink and history when you picked one up.

“I thought you preferred books that are new and intact,” Cassian commented as he leafed through one.

“Well, yes,” you conceded. “But only if they're recent books. If they were written centuries ago like these ones—” You gestured to the small display “—then I prefer they look their age.”

Cassian hummed. “Got it.”

But as he set down the book, you could tell his attention was already elsewhere. Following his gaze, you noticed the daggers and pocket knives on sale a few stalls down the street. It brought a fond smile to your lips. Of course. Leave it to him to focus on blades and to you to focus on books. You weren't even surprised anymore.

You both spoke at the same time.

“Do you mind if I—”

“Go on.”

You exchanged an amused look, and then he smiled and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Whoever finishes first catches up with the other?”

You nodded, and Cassian walked to the other stall, his wings rising above people's heads, making it impossible to lose him in the small crowd.

Turning back to the books, you began studying a few of them.

Everything was fine. Until someone called your name.

You turned around to find the last person you wanted to see standing there.

Your ex.

He smiled, but there was something crooked in it—an edge that had always been there, but that you hadn't noticed until it was too late. Until you had fallen for him and he thought that meant you were his. His property. His toy.

You sidestepped his hug when he approached you with his arms open. Something shifted in his eyes.

“What?” he scoffed. “You won't even greet me properly now?”

“What do you want, Axel?” you sighed.

He straightened. “I saw you standing there. Just thought I'd come say hi.”

Your eyes darted around. The bookseller was talking to a client, and you spotted the tips of Cassian’s wings further down the street, still standing at the blade stand.

Axel stepped closer. “Worried, angel?”

You recoiled at the old nickname, at the wicked grin on his face, as if he not only knew your reaction, but also enjoyed it.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to stand your ground. “I told you I didn't want to see you again.”

“You did,” he said with a shrug. “But that was a year ago. I thought maybe you’d changed your mind by now.”

“I haven't,” you answered, though your voice shook. The people around you didn't seem to notice your distress, too focused on their purchases. “Never again means never again.”

He stepped closer again. You stepped back.

Before you could try to turn and leave—before things could escalate, since you knew he'd try to grab your hand—a faint scent of sandalwood and embers surrounded you.

An arm wrapped around your shoulders, its weight familiar and welcome. Soft lips kissed your temple.

“Here you are,” Cassian said, his voice calm and laid-back, curling a wing around you. “Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?”

Your body relaxed slightly, leaning into his side.

Axel’s eyes narrowed. “We were just talking.”

“Were you?” Cassian pushed. “Because it didn't look like she wanted to talk to you at all.”

Not knowing what to say, you just nodded. Axel could be violent—you had learned that the hard way. And though it had been a year and Cassian was now by your side, you'd rather not risk making things worse.

But Axel didn't take the hint. And as if Cassian's arm around you wasn't obvious enough, he spat, “What's it to you anyway? Who are you?”

You tensed as Cassian smiled amicably, but he simply said, “I'm Cassian. I'm her boyfriend.”

Axel froze. He scanned Cassian head to toe, taking in the wings and the Siphons on his hands like he hadn't noticed them before. You saw the realization of who was standing in front of him dawn on his face, and his eyes widened.

Cassian’s smile was gone. His expression was unreadable, though you could see a flicker of anger in his hazel eyes.

“That's right, buddy,” Cassian said, voice low and dangerous. “You know who I am. So I suggest you get lost and never bother her again before I make you regret ever looking in her direction.”

Your heart thundered in your chest, and you held your breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Surely, Axel wouldn't be stupid enough to challenge Cassian. Because you know he'd stay true to his words and hurt your ex.

Maybe the promise of violence should have scared you, horrified you even. Instead, it only made you feel loved and protected.

Axel hesitated. He scowled, glared first at you, then at Cassian, and finally turned on his heel and left without a word.

You let out a sigh of relief only once he had disappeared from view. Cassian turned to you, pulling you closer, wings unfolding to shield you from the passersby.

“Thank you,” you murmured, sliding your arms around his waist and holding him tight.

Cassian cupped your cheeks with gentle hands, tilting your face up to look at him. “Are you alright?”

You offered a small smile. “Yes. Thanks to you.” Rising on your toes, you pecked his lips. “My savior.”

He smiled back, kissing the top of your head and pulling you against his chest. “Anytime, sweetheart. Just let me know if he ever bothers you again.”

“I don't think he will,” you replied, face buried in his shirt. “I think you scared him enough to stay away.”

His tone was smug when he spoke. “I had to. But that wasn't the scariest I could be. I kind of want to show him the real thing.”

You chuckled quietly. “Hopefully, you won't need to.”

And fortunately, just like you thought, you never saw Axel again.

*divider by @saradika-graphics

Taglist: @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @arialovesyou @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34 @yesiamthatwierd @lreadsstuff @littlest-w01f

[alicenchanted]

Settling the Score

Cassian X Valkyrie!F!Reader | Cassian Week 2025

Summary: After a brutal day of training- and a deliberately torn pair of leathers- you track Cassian to the steamy Illyrian bathhouse, ready to confront him. What begins as tension and banter quickly melts into something far more intimate as the cocky General reveals a softer side.

Word Count: 1,531

AN: Hey guys! This is a short little smut, but I wanted to get something out there for day 4 of Cassian Appreciation Week. Today's prompt was 'lover.' Thank you to the lovely mods, @cassianappreciationweek for running the event!

If you guys wanna see more Cassian smut, drop me a req!

Tags: Bratty reader, sex in the bathhouse, dry humping, reader is a virgin, valkyrie reader mentions, banter

Read on Ao3

The ripped leg of your leathers itched. Yeah, he was going to pay for that. 

Cassian was hard on the Valkyries. You and the girls could handle it. Of course you could. But Cassian was still an asshole, going out of his way to torment you. His blade had shorn the edge of your pants just shy of the skin, which was totally on purpose. 

Sometimes, you felt Cassian targeted you specifically. He pushed you, parrying every blow of your blade until you were pinned down beneath him with no way to escape. 

After ruining your training clothes, Cassian had left early. Conveniently, he was far too sore to settle to score.

You walked in through the entrance to a steamy bathhouse. Sconces of dim, warm fae light flickered like living fire, guiding you back to the simmering pool of warm water that poured off the edge of the Windhaven mountains. 

You knew you’d find Cassian here. Illyrian males loved to come here after practice to boast being bruiseless. 

You were in luck tonight though. As you entered a steaming room, only one pair of wings were laid out on the cool tile. Cassian hissed in pleasure, sinking into the hot water as he rested his wings. 

“General.”

He turned, brows raising in surprise, but curiosity glimmered in his eyes. “Are you lost?”

“Am I not allowed in here?” you folded your arms over your chest indignantly, but he only snickered, turning around to lean against the tile. His big arms gleamed with dew, flexing as he settled.

“You’re allowed of course, but this is typically the side for males.”

“I was looking for you.” You glanced at the slice of bare skin on your leg, and he followed your gaze down.

“Ah, come to get your revenge?” You huffed, and he went on. “I’ll play with you more tomorrow. Maybe after a night of beauty sleep, you’ll finally land a hit on me.”

You growled at his cocky tone and Cassian looked you up and down. Would he truly stare at you in such a way? 

“You didn’t even bring a dagger?” 

Oh, no, he had just been searching you for weapons. That was all. You straightened up your shoulders. “You wouldn’t be able to see it if I did.”

Cassian grinned. “Ah, if . So you didn’t. What exactly did you plan to do once you found me here, naked and defenseless?” 

A flush crept up your cheeks. “You’re naked?”

“It’s a bathhouse, sweetheart. Of course I’m naked.” He stood up straight and droplets ran down his pecs. It came up just above his belly button, the water obscuring everything below, but your cheeks grew even hotter. You knew he was bold… but not this bold.

“I thought maybe- uh…”

“Thought what,” he drawled, hands propped on his trim waist. He was daring you to look. 

You kept your eyes on the ceiling. “I thought you would be wearing boxers or swimwear.”

“I wasn’t expecting the company of a female. But you don’t have to be shy, I’m sure you’ve been with a male before… right?”

Infuriating. Your jaw tightened, but you had no clever comeback. Nothing to snap back with. “If you must know, I haven’t”

Cassian’s face went slack, his mouth dropping slightly. “You haven’t”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry- I'm just…”

“A judgemental prick?”

He crossed his own arms back at you, wrinkling his nose. “No, I was going to say surprised.”

“Well it’s true.”

“I’m sure it is,” he said, wading closer to where you stood at the edge of the pool. “You can’t even look at me, sweetheart.”

“I’m trying to be respectful ,” you bit out. You could feel his heat from where you stood. It took everything to keep from looking down, from allowing your eyes the pleasure of sweeping over his deliciously muscled figure. Agh.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be.”

“What?” Your breath caught. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be respectful. Maybe you should come join me, and let me show you what it’s like.”

Cassian’s words were filthy, but his face was open, encouraging. You had seen him with the priestesses in training, and you knew there was a side to Cassian that was warm and gentle. What would that gentle touch be like on your body…? 

A smirk crossed his chiseled features as he gave you a knowing look, sensing your interest. “I do bite sweetheart, but trust me, they feel good.”

Shaking your head, you tried to step back from the water, but his hand grabbed your ankle. He tugged just enough to make you unsteady, and a bright red cord of magic coiled around your arm, making sure you fell forward instead of on your ass. You yelped, taking an anticipatory breath, but Cassian caught you easily. 

Instantly, your leathers soaked through. They clung to your body like a second skin and yes, Cassian was staring. 

“My leathers will be ruined,” you grumbled.

“I’ll get you new ones,” he murmured. He looked at you until you finally made eye contact with him. Locks of wet black hair framed his face, his jaw, his cheekbones.

For some reason, the openness in his face was scarier than his spunk. It was foreign to you. Now that you were in his arms, he had changed, cradling you in the water like you were precious. 

“Do you want to?” There was only one thing he could mean.

“I don’t know.” Answering that question was hard. You wanted something, but maybe not everything.

Cassian startled you from your thoughts with a soft brush of his thumb against your cheek. “Whatever you want.”

“What I really want is to get rid of these wet leathers... No, not like that-”

“Aww,” he whined, “I was hoping.”

“Well…” you sucked in a breath. “Maybe- maybe I actually do want to.”

“You don’t sound like you’re sure.” Cassian cupped your face. “You know,” he said softly, “there’s much more pleasurable things than just sex.”

“Like what?”

“Like sharing a kiss with a beautiful girl.” He tugged you closer, his smile contagious. “May I?”

What was the point in fighting it? Coming here for revenge seemed silly now, an excuse to be close to the General in a way the other Valkyries weren’t. It was a way to be alone. Holding your breath, you nodded.

He leaned in, holding your hips lightly as he brushed his lips to yours. You had shared kisses before, but never with someone like Cassian, someone who knew how to treat you. His touch was light and barely there as he waited for you to escalate. The pace was yours to set, always.

You kissed him with a little more force, a proper one, and he groaned at the feeling. His tongue swept against your bottom lip and you parted your lips for him. He was not sloppy, only slowly coaxing your mouth with his own.

Running on instinct, your hands found their way to Cassian’s hair, tugging on the wet locks until his grip on you tightened. You could feel every inch of him against your tight leathers. Every inch. Somehow you had forgotten he was naked. 

“May I?” his broad hands gripped the hem of your pants, his thumb hooking underneath to tug. You nodded, and he peeled them off of you. Tunic, pants, and everything underneath.

The water felt good. It was perpetually steamy and warm in the bathhouse, kept that way by strange old magic. Cassian carefully set your leathers on the tile to dry. A kind gesture considering they were already ripped and likely ruined. 

Cassian closed in again, pinning you to the tile with his arms braced on either side. You bit your lip, but he carefully pulled it free with his lips, kissing you again. And again.

He kissed you until you had no breaths left for him to swallow. Cassian’s muscled body pressed tighter to yours, and you felt it. He was hard, and thick. Bigger than you had imagined in your mind. He moaned softly, pressing his cock firmly to your thigh. “Fuck, I have to take care of this…”

“I-”

“No, sweetheart, you just stay still…” His face nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to your misty skin as he began to roll his hips. His cock rubbed against your thigh, cradled at the apex of your hips, and you gasped as he thrusted. 

“Fuck… feels so good sweetheart.” A chorus of panting and grunting echoed through the spacious chambers of the bathhouse as Cassian rutted into your soft thighs. His lips caressed your neck sweetly, kissing between shuddering moans. “You’re gonna make me spill so fast.”

You pressed your thighs together and he bit his lip, sliding his dick between them and resuming his thrusts. Within minutes he was grabbing you, possessively squeezing every curve of your body as he came. His eyes rolled back, one last thrust pushing between your legs before he pulled back a bit. 

“That was hot…”

His lips curved and he laughed. “Yeah? Why don’t you let me touch you now, sweetheart?”

“I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night. But… maybe we can kiss again?”

“Absolutely.”

[c-e-d-dreamer]

"There's two things I do really well, sweetheart, and playing hockey's the other one."

.

Sometimes, 'Shield' is you blocking the puck to prevent a goal like a good defenseman does, am I right, @cassianappreciationweek? 😉

A very big shout-out and thank you to the_megabee33 on Instagram for bringing everyone's favorite slutty hockey man to life! This art is, of course, based on my NHL AU fic, Top Shelf Love

🚫 Please do not repost without credit and do not feed into AI programs

[illyriassweetheart]

Under The Mountain

Day Three: Atonement ⚔︎ Right, wrong, or indifferent, Cassian carries guilt for many things in his life. How does he show his remorse to the people closest to him? @cassianappreciationweek

Cassian x reader // words 2.2k // Cass feels guilty, because he should have gone under the mountain instead of YN. After 50 years she's back and he tried to do anything to help her adjusting back into her life.

Cassian

She was gone for so long. We’ve lost so much time together.

About 50 Years ago Rhysand was called to an audience along with the other High Lords and he wanted me to come with him. But things in Illyria worsened and I asked YN to go with him instead. She hadn't even celebrated her 30th birthday but she quickly became close with us and a member of the IC. She was bright and clever and her heart was made of gold. That day, she told me she had a bad feeling about going with Rhysand but I talked her into it and begged her to go.

It was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.

YN and Rhys were taken by Amarantha and pulled under the mountain. Az and I had been secluded in Velaris. Whatever we tried to get out of the protective shields, the city wouldn't let us go. We had no information about what happened to them. Did Amarantha oblige them to serve her? Were they held in a dungeon and tortured? I couldn't even let the thought in about what they could have done to YN – if they passed her around and sold her like a– that thought pulled at my heart every time.

Over the 50 years they were gone I haven't slept properly. I turned the library upside down to find a way out and help my friends. There were nights when Azriel had to pull me away from the city’s shield, where I clawed at the protecting bubble like a feral wolf, my siphons empty and swords dull or broken around me.

Half a century had gone by and the will to live exceeded my body. Until Feyre Cursebreaker defeated Amarantha and Rhysand winnowed them back home immediately. 

I will never forget the look on YN’S beautiful face when I saw her again. Her white wings looked even paler than before. Her body did not fill her clothes like they once did. Before she left, her eyes shone brighter than the stars themselves, but when she stood before me, that light had died. 

I stormed towards her and embraced her, not ashamed at the tears that dropped on her shoulder as I hugged her. Time ticked by and I just couldn't let her go. I was afraid that she would disappear the moment my hands slipped from her. That also was the moment I realized that the crush I had on her when she was taken had grown into so much more when she was gone. Not lust nor obsession – it was pure love. I would have traded her place anytime with mine. All I wanted was her to be here in Velaris…safe and cared for. 

She’s been back for three months now and she’s getting back into her old life. She’s been helping Madja in her hospital, had been with me in Windhaven or had her nose deep into a book while she sat in the garden. I was always around, even if she didn't know I was there. I couldn't help it but have an eye on her constantly, making sure she was there and okay. 

Whenever she brushed past me in the hallways of the House of Wind and her hands grazed mine I tried to avoid her touch. I flinched away from her like she would burn me. Even if she seeked comfort after dinner while we all sat in the lounging chairs by the fire. She tried to cuddle into my side but all I did was stiffen under her touch. I was a coward. I wanted to be near her for so long but I never deserved her affection. I was unworthy of being close to her, because I let her down.

 But that didn't stop me from protecting her. One night, she had a discussion with Amren. The old biest said something slightly too harsh for me and I exploded. I pulled YN behind me and held her hand, brushing my thumb over her hand soothingly, the only contact I allowed me to have. Then I towered over Amren with my wings spread wide and shaking from my anger, telling her to leave YN the fuck alone. She could argue with anyone that way, but not with her. I called Amren out to the point where Az and Rhys had to hold me back from punching her in the face over what she threw at YN. Then I felt YN’s hand on my arm and the anger evaded me, she was the only one who could calm me down after I threatened Amren.

The weeks after, I left little trinkets for YN. Stones that I found while I wandered around Velaris that reminded me of her eye color. When I found a book at the library that she might like, I left it on her night stand. I placed fresh flowers on her vanity every week. Preparing her favorite breakfast was regular for me, oatmeal with fruits and my personal touch was fairy dust on it. She always liked glittery things. 

We spent more time together, I brought her to her room every evening. When I was sure she dozed off I peeked in to check if she was still there, still okay. She looked so peaceful. The door closed behind me with a soft squeal before I returned to my room. I sat at my desk, pulling out the liquor and a glass from the hidden compartment. Then, my eyes fell to the neatly folded papers. I hoped that she would never come to my room when I wasn't there…if she would never look into the drawers of my desk, she would find the stacks of letters that I wrote to her every week when she was gone. Writing to her kept me sane – it gave me the feeling of being connected to her…being near her. 

She even wanted to get back to training. Too soon for my taste but I was past denying her. I started to train her like I did it once before. She was kept for so long that even her muscle memory had forgotten about our training. 

My voice remains soft and calm as she repeats the figures, the complete opposite of how I train my Illyrian warriors. Her breathing is laboured and beads of sweat run down the sides of her reddened cheeks. “Come on, YN. Try it one more time. I  know you can do it.” I encourage her.

She squints her eyes and her slim arm summons all her remaining power to raise her sword. It doesn't work, not even with two hands but she’s not giving up and tries to yank it up, but it doesn't move. She’s too weak.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You did so good. I think it’s enough for today. Let's try tomorrow, we’ll take a step back and–”

“Take a step back and what?” She snaps. “You want to hold the sword for me like you did last week or you want me to do it with a wood dagger again, huh?” she glares at me with rage in her eyes. I tower over her but I feel so small right now.

“YN, I just want to help you. We need to start slowly with your training. You could collapse if you trained too hard too fast.”

“That’s not the way the general trains his army, isn't it? Stop babying me!”

“I’m not–”

“Yes, you are!” She lets the sword fall with a clunking sound. “You’re sneaking up on me all the time! I can feel your eyes on me even when I think you’re not in the same room with me. You wouldn't let me do the smallest thing on my own like I'm a fragile puppet. Why are you treating me like I’m weak and every small gust of wind would bring me down?”

“Because it was supposed to be me! I sent you there, under the mountain. I chose not to go and I…you lost 50 years because of me. I’ll never forgive myself. All I’m trying to do is making up for the time that I robbed from you.”

“Cass–” the anger is gone and her voice is soft as she takes a step closer to me, reaching out to cup my face. But I flinch back, I don't deserve to be soothed by her. 

“You were captured because I talked you into going instead of me and I swore to myself that I have to make it up to you for the rest of my life. You were so young when Amarantha got you and being held does irreparable things to people. All I want is to help you get back to being yourself. I only want you to be as happy as you were before.”

“Cass, look at me.” she begs and reaches out again. I let her touch my cheek and her small hand is so warm against my cold skin. My eyes snap to hers and my anger melts at her words. “It was not your fault.” her eyes glaze over as she whispers and her thumb brushes circles, “It was my choice to go with Rhysand. I replayed how it happened so often in my head but me switching places with you was never something I was upset about. She did a lot of bad things, especially to Rhysand. If you had been there too, she would have done the same thing to you. I would have never forgiven me if I’d let her do that to you. I was happy that you and the others were safe here.”

“But I was supposed to protect you. I was supposed–” My voice breaks and I swallow a raw sound. I feel the sting of tears in my eyes and I look away, clenching my jaw. 

“Cass,” she whispers again, hand still on my cheek. “You protected me every day.”

My words come out in a harsh breath. “Not when it mattered.”

“It still matters. You still matter. You were with me all the time inside of my heart. You didn’t fail me.”

She’s so wrong. I shake my head. “You were just a girl. So full of light. I let that light be blown out. I dreamed of you under that mountain. I imagined all the ways I could’ve stopped it. If I’d gone instead, if I’d fought harder, if I hadn’t asked you to go. Fifty years, YN. Fifty years of your life. Do you know what that does to a male who…” I stop myself. My chest heaves and I just can't bring the words out. 

“Who what?” she whispers and frowns up at me. 

The sound of her soft voice makes me look at her again and everything that I buried comes back to the surface. “Who loved you even back then.”

Her breath catches and she doesn't move. She’s waiting for an explanation.

“I never said anything. You were so young, so bright. I thought I had time. I thought we’d have time. And then you were gone. And all I could do was survive with the guilt of knowing that I chose to stay behind.”

Tears line up in her eyes and the corner of her mouth dips up into a small smile “Cassian I–”

“I don’t want you to love me out of gratitude. Or pity. I just want you to be okay. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

She cups my face with both hands now, forcing me to look into her eyes. “Then hear me when I say this. I am okay. I’m healing, piece by piece. And do you know what helped me most?”

I swallow heavily. I’m too afraid to hear the answer.

“You.”

My lips open and close. All words evade me.

“You were my hope in the dark. When I thought of home, I thought of you.”

I can’t stop the tear that slips down my cheek. She brushes it away gently.

“I don’t love you out of gratitude. I love you because you’re everything I ever wanted…before and after the mountain. I adore how you took care of me when I came back and I lied when I said you should stop babying me. Actually it helped me a lot growing back into my old self.”

It breaks me. All my walls crumble and I lean forward to place a soft kiss on her forehead. I never thought that I would hear those words from her. 

“I love you,” I whisper with a husky voice. “I’ve loved you from the moment you looked up at me with that spark in your eyes and told me I was flying wrong.”

She unfolds her white wings and mocks me as she imitates the posture of my wings back then. But a tear slips down her cheek and I kiss it away. 

“Then we both held on to it,” she says. “All these years. Even in the dark.”

I nod and pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her, planning to never let her go again. My mind is foggy as I smell her shampoo mingling with her perfume, a smell that I dreamt of for so long. “I’m still angry,” I murmur into her hair. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you harder than any pain we went through.”

“That’s all I want.”

[carlotta-art]

@cassianappreciationweek day 3 : Atonement

For this I offer two possible interpretations:

1- Cassian carries guilt for not being able to save his mother; I imagined that during difficult times, she is there to comfort him and give him courage.

2- Cassian has just returned from a difficult assignment, having to break the news to the soldiers' families that they will never see their loved one again. Haunted by the guilt of not being able to do more for them, The Mother tries to offer him comfort.

Which one do you prefer?

For more pathos I recommend listening to "Eternity"

[grimseverity]

Cassian Week 2025: Day #3 "Atonement" (both art and fic by me)

@cassianappreciationweek

“Pack your things.” Nesta flinched at the sudden order, Cassian bellowing it as he entered through her window and marched to the closet. Standing up, she reached out a hand, only to put it back as he wrenched clothes and a small leather pack.

“Cassian. What happened?” There was no response from him, just more fabric shuffling and the violent clack of hangers ringing together. “Cassian!” she demanded, forcing him to face her. His left eye was swollen, his lip and nose split and oozing twin trails of blood, and Nesta felt anger surge and thunder inside of her chest. “Was this Rhys?”

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Cassian countered, reaching for her hand, “Considering…I left him unconscious in his office.” Nesta’s jaw fell open.

“But…why?”

“Because I’m sick and tired of it, Nes.” Cassian pushed past her, stuffing the bag in a frenzy. “Of the fights. Of Rhys constantly badgering and belittling you over and over! Of having to choose between him and…you.” He sighed, dropping the clothes he was holding. “I told him that he needs to start respecting you, that he can’t expect me to just stand by while he hurls threats and…” Nesta tried to look at him, but Cassian turned his head away. “He tried to pull that High Lord dominance and I…kind of lost it. Mor had to pull me off of him, and I came straight here.”

“Cassian.” Nesta grabbed the sides of his face, forcing him to her, “I can handle Rhys. You didn’t need to do that.”

“It’s more than that, Nes,” he replied, his voice low and cold, “I know you can handle him, but I’m tired of him thinking I’m only good for one thing. I’m tired of feeling like I’ll forever owe him, that I—we, have to live our lives by his rules. He may be High Lord, but I’ll be damned if he is going to say one more word about you, make one more threat, without suffering the consequences.” Cassian sighed, trembling as the words just kept on spilling out, words that had surged in his head for months and months, along with the guilt and shame. “I’m so sorry, Nesta. I’m sorry for everything. I can’t stop thinking about it. The hike, laughing at you when you fell on the stairs, the sex…” Cassian pressed a fist to his lips, “I was supposed to be taking care of you, and I fucking took advantage of it.”

“Cassian,” Nesta called, trying to calm him down, “We both agreed to do that.”

“But you were in my care! I was supposed to help you get better, and I knew that sex was something you used to…cope. I couldn’t just put aside the bond, wanting to be with you, for one second. I practically leapt that the chance and it…” He sighed once more, “It doesn’t matter. I can’t change what happened, but I can stop listening to Rhys, stop thinking that he knows best when I know in my gut what he’s doing is wrong.” Casein’s hands rose to cup both her cheeks, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m choosing you, really choosing you this time, so we’re done here. Let him Rhys with the Illyrians himself.”

Nesta swallowed, “What about Feyre?”

“We have our own lives, Nesta. Me, Az, Mor? We’ve all lived with each other for way too long. We need space, to find ourselves, to actually remember what it’s like to want what we want, and be who we truly are.” Nesta let his words sink into her, truly absorbing what he had said. She had many of the same feelings, but frankly, it was more trouble to fight and claw back against the Night Court than it was to just sit back and let it wash over her. She hadn’t realized just how light Cassian’s new perspective made her feel, that he was trying to make a change.

“How are we going to get out of Velaris without him knowing?” At that, Cassian gave an actual smirk.

“Because I have another brother, and he’s been feeling very much the same way.” As if to punctuate his words, the shadows of her room peeled apart, and Azriel shunted in through a winnow. He turned to Nesta and gave a small nod, turning to Cassian.

“Everything’s ready.” Nesta blinked.

“What’s ready?” 

“I have a cabin,” Azriel replied, “A small place, remote but well-outfitted. It’s stocked and it’s far from here, and I made sure that Rhys doesn’t know about it.” The sound of a buckled strap made Nesta glance back to Cassian, his bag over his shoulder.

“I just want some time away from all of it, Nes. Some time of just…me and you, without all the pressure and the bullshit. For us to see, what life is like if we can just…be together.” Cassian stepped forward and kissed her, brushing a hair back over her ear before continuing. “Let me make it right. Let me prove myself to be a mate worth having. I can be better. I want to be better. But not while we’re here. Not while Rhys sees us as political pieces and not fucking people.”

Nesta took a deep breath, then gave a playful smile, her arm hooking around Cassian’s shoulder.

“Then steal me away.”

[tessville]

For Cassian Appreciation week, a short treatise on my History of Drawing Cassian.

The first Cass I ever drew in a delightfully music-and-beer-fuelled nine hour drawing session that covered the entire table with pictures. Based on a random guy watching some sort of sports-ball game. I don't hate him but he's far too saintly looking. Someone called him Sexy Jesus. Fair. It's not Cass.

2. Same loud, beery drawing frenzy. Seven Lessons Baby Cass in Windhaven. Thank you Henry Cavill for your stupidly impressive bone structure, you are the Swiss Army Knife of drawing references (@mistandmemories I think you said that once and how right you were).

3. Did I even use a reference for this one? Can't remember. Anyway he's getting a bit of Cass's cheekiness so things are improving but the anatomy's off and it's always irritated me. Only time I bothered with even a nod to his tatts. Too much detail for lazy me.

4. Random fast scribble because I think about his arms way too much but this nose is allllll wrong and he's giving super redneck Caucasian vibes somehow. I like his right elbow though?

5. Clean shaven for a change. I like to think of this Cass as a post-Nova version trying to be all sharp and courtly for his new love but not quite managing it. Started out as a little exercise in drawing from a lower angle but oops, turned into a Cass. I do like this guy, he's still on my wall.

6. The one at the top of this post. Probably my favourite to date because he looks so full of affection and humour. Can Yaman as reference. Here's how he developed:

So basically he never looks the same twice but I do enjoy rolling him around in my imagination. Anyway, thanks Cass. I appreciate you. X

@cassianappreciationweek

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